You were supposed to grow old. Reckless, unfrightened, and old, you were supposed to grow old.

today i was reminded why i like to write...or at least, why i like to write on the interwebs.
this meanders. i haven't posted in so long, that i'm just going to go with the flow here. there is a main theme, but the "structure" of this thing is going to be tangents inside of schisms of asides. it'll be tender buttons w/far less repetition...or homosexuality...and with nouns and no sex (mmmm...i could go for some alice b toklas ice cream from Marianne's)

seriously, this one goes all over the place and as always, it's easy to see where the music sits...feel free to scroll down unless you've got a few minutes and like me an inordinate amount.

i had taken to listening to my ipod on completely random.
normally, i use my playlists to filter an insane quantity of music down to something manageable. not too many months ago, i got a new computer....a beautiful, beefy laptop on which i'm writing now. in the xferring of music from old computer (still up and running...though solely for dangerous/chancy surfing) to new, i managed to lose my playlists. now, many of you know that i am an enemy of apple, and a self-loathing owner of apple products (including my new iphone, which is pure sex.) the primary reason for this hatred isn't geek posturing, but the s-load of proprietary roadblocks that apple stacks in their very shiny products. some of you may know that it is impossible to remove files from ipods and put them on your computer through apple-approved methods. this is a pile of horseshit (i love that firefox doesn't correct the spelling on horseshit!) when one pays a ton of money for an external drive that can play music, once should be able to use it like an external drive. period...end of story. eff you apple...right in your stupid a.

in order to be truly happy, i need my playlists, so i couldn't sync my ipod for the last few months (the old ones would have been deleted upon syncing...effing stupid crap...the music is MINE, regardless of the fact that i stole most of it), which gave me little reason to surf for new music. of course i could manually put the new songs on the ipod, but every time i thought about how apple was cramping my style, i just got angry.

a few weeks ago when joanna abandoned me for a day, i decided i was going to solve my problem through any illegal means necessary. super-duper-over-long story short, i finally came upon yamIpod, which appears to be the greatest freeware out there for hijacking your ipod. specifically, it is the only one i found that allows you to remove playlists themselves. awesome. these playlists that i need to be truly happy.

however, i had taken to listening to my ipod on completely random.
since i am constantly listening to music, tons of forgotten songs popped up, until i had a nice list, sufficient for a blog.

however, as you may have noticed, i don't really blog anymore.
but, apparently, i do.

a few things have led me back to blogging.
i may have mentioned, in paren, that i got a sexy new phone. if i hadn't already named my snowboard vera, then i guarantee that the iphone would get that name. well, now that i have internet at my fingertips all the damn time, i have started reading cvjm's blog again. thus, i started commenting and bouncing to other blogs as well (as a former blogger, i know how rad those comments feel.)

you may have noticed that my last post was actually a repost. (oddly, i've never received so many comments before...maybe i should just cycle through my best posts every few months?) the cause of that repost should be fairly clear from the (now censored) rant its beginning. however, despite my displeasure, i enjoyed revisiting that past post, and i LOVE that, through no further work of my own, i was able to hit a few souls who missed it on the first time around. that post is one of the few that is close to my heart, and one of the very few that strays into anything but pure frivolity. for those that didn't catch it, or don't feel like taking the step back, it was largely concerned with memory.

i used to meditate a good deal on memory, i think in large part because mine is so poor. i physically hold on to absolutely everything. every time i cleaned my room as a kid, i found new places to squirrel away junk. you should have seen it circa the end of high school....probably half of my 12x12 room was filled with random shit. because i've never had to move everything out of here, i've never done the massive filtering wherein i toss all of the childhood crap, though i've certainly pared down over the years. i still have a few big boxes--at least--of flotsam that connects me to moments/feelings from my childhood (i wonder if the exes would be flattered or creeped out by the scrap piles.). you see, i don't think everyone out there can relate to having an atrocious memory for the past: i legitimately CANNOT dredge up a lot of these memories without the trinket that sends me there.

the other day, i inherited a new desk which led me back to blogging.
now, the one i had was truly an inheritance: it belonged to my grandfather. i believe, though we've talked about my memory, that he was a salesman of office furniture when he brought his family here from holland. it was a nice desk. however, it was too big for my little room, and when my sister was tossing her little ikea number, i did the switcheroo. i knew that the (giant) top drawer of the old desk had served as a catch-all for years, but i had no idea what i was dipping into. i'd had that desk for maybe 17 years, but there were items in there from well before that time period. there was a pencil that i won in cub scouts. there were micro machines from third grade (yes, i remember specifically which year that was because we played with them every day for a while there, out in the sandbox, making marble madness style runs for them to go down.) there was a small section of my rock collection; a stone cross i wore in my devout (more like passing) days as well as a yin-yang i wore for a spell in between (not to mention a playboy pendant that i probably bought at the fair and wore far far before i ever kissed a girl); my ex gf's high school id along with a bracelet and shoelaces from my hs gf; years of gifts in the shape of pigs which my mom gives me to "celebrate" my chauvinism. there was a paper from gamestop on which i wrote up my manager for using *CENSORED* and faxed it to his gf (whom i had never met.) KOME stickers. KSJO keychain. my charcoal pencils from the period when i wanted to be an artist like my mom. years and years of STUFF, none of it junk...all of it important enough to save for one reason or another.

this kind of drawer makes me melancholy. always. these happy memories are rendered sad by their distance. i'm totally old. all this stuff that was so important. all this stuff i've forgotten. i don't relish it, or celebrate it, i mope about it...but i'm completely unwilling to chance the alternative: forgetting.

so, a few things have led me back to blogging.





Ted Leo. Timerous Me. Lyrics.

the song i most wanted to share is one that i used to sing along with, w/o really listening to the lyrics. i admit to doing this shamefully often...especially given my snobbery surrounding words.
today, when i finally decided that i was going to write about it, i did some digging for an online mp3 of the song so the DMCA butt-puppets wouldn't erase my post (i was warned not to post more music or my blog would be shit-canned.) while digging, i circuitously found that i had even less of a handle on the topic of the song than i thought. while searching for "timory", i came upon the story of an OK Go song called "return" about a girl named timory hyde (lyrics of return. the end of that thing is pretty sad.)
this rabbit hole goes on and on, and it's getting more daunting to write this every time i stray away to look for more. song after song is written in remembrance of this girl, but the short version is that timory hyde died while at brown university, on her bday, when a friend hugged her and the window she was leaning on gave out, sending the pair three stories down to the driveway below. she was an artist and musician herself, and appears to have been beloved by all who knew her, and even a few who only knew the twinkle in her eye, as is evidenced by this song.

of all the random things i came across about this girl's death, this post moved me the most. i don't know if roberta is a mom, or a sister...but, talk about cleaning out a desk:

Roberta wrote:

I don’t know what made me do a Timory Hyde search but I found this. Thank you, Elliot, for writing it. I’ve finally been cleaning out Timory’s room because I know what I want to do with it and I know she would like it. I’ve tried to reach you through emails but they must all be different. I haven’t written but I should. Laziness overcomes me. Maybe emotion as well. I miss hearing from you. I’m going to try to find Leo’s cd. I’m looking forward to being “frozen” and also to the nice feeling that Timory drove another to song. She’d like that….. R
Wednesday, August 13, 2003 at 5:43 pm

i rarely print lyrics in their entirety, but, it's just such a perfect end to the post, and poses all the right questions. deep and melancholy food for thought...that's what my blog is.


Timorous Me

Me and Johnny sittin' in the green grass -
I don’t remember too much from that far back in the past,
But man, oh man, was Johnathan a laugh
In those days.
Apparently he was my very best friend -
We spent warm summer days wishing they would never end -
But I only know from photographs I look at
Every now and again.

And J-J-Johnny -
Ooh, ooh, all he left us was an apple tree,
And ooh, where'd he go, and ooh, why'd he leave,
And ooh, why do I grieve?

Now I don’t ever see Johnathan no more,
But my life rolls on just like it did before,
And I only wonder what it is
That I even miss him for.

Me and Timory holdin' hands -
I was shakin' hers, ‘cause she said she was a fan,
There was an awkward pause, and something that should’ve began
Just passed us by.
But I watched her sing along with every word,
In the prettiest voice that I never heard,
And I still see her dancing, wearin' my shirt:
Right there.

And t-t-timorous me -
All Timory left me was a memory.
And ooh, I was blind, and ooh, now I find
That I can’t see.

Now me and Jodi spend a lot of our time
Just sittin' in silence, driving late at night,
And maybe even wonderin' what’s on each other’s mind
This time.
But I know she’s like me, so I let it ride -
She’s dwelling in that quiet space left behind,
Where only peace can answer why,
And you abide
The birds must fly.

um....not "the gaze of love is the gaze that isolates"

Monday, September 17, 2007

"the gaze of love is the gaze that isolates"

(Editor's note: DMCA asked me to take down the links. If you send me an email, I will happily send you the music.)


so, when i was in, like, FOUR foreign countries, i got a chance to catch up with a TON of listening i have been planning to get to.i had this great idea that i would earmark a whole bunch of songs for the blog and that this would make it way easier to be good little blogger. however, since i have been feeling pretty anti-blog recently, i have decided to handle this a little differently. i am posting the entire list (copied out of the back page of my battered copy of "the book of laughter and forgetting" that i read for what must be the 15th time) all at once. this makes for a pretty schizophrenic playlist, but i'm listening to it right now, and it is actually quite good. since most of this playlist was assembled while i was actually traveling (meaning, in a car/bus/train/airplane) i was a in a pretty similar mood for most of the picking. public transportation always makes me introspective and a little sad.these links will only be good for 7 days or 100 downloads, whichever comes first. this means that those loyal readers who follow the blog closely will be rewarded with a very fine assortment of songs. the rest of you will have to beg if you want them. though the order of the songs was all mixed up, some of you might notice that all of the artists have names beginning with one of the first 9 letters of the alphabet. this is not by chance. that's as far as i made it through the 900 song playlist i was working from.

"Disc" 1:
(Link Expired)

Seabear - A.R.C.
Daedalus - Just Briefly
Bishop Allen - Flight 180
Belleruche - Minor Swing
Flanger - How Long is the Wrong Way
General Miggs - Broken Hoof
Hollowpaw - Cinders
Grizzly Bear - Knife
Feist - Mushaboom
Bowerbirds - In Our Talons
Benoit Piolard - Patter
Caribou - Melody Day
Harlan T Bobo - Stop
Goyte - Heart's a Mess
Detektivbyrån - Nattöppet
Gavouna - Three
Doveman - Cities
Beirut - Postcards from Italy

"Disc" 2:
Link Expired

Bibio/Richard Roberts - Marram
The Coral - Dreaming of you
Irma Thomas - I Need Your Love So Bad
Flying - Minors
Dispatch - The General
DJ Shadow - Organ Donor
Clue to Kalo - The Just is Enough
Chris and the Other Girls - Let Go
Frankenixon - Impasse
Fischerspooner - Kick in the Teeth
Casey Dienel - Tundra
Four Tet - Spirit Fingers
Hot Springs - Gotta DJ
CocoRosie - Ohio
Deceptikon - Sometimes You Hear it Coming
Chris Thile - Laurie De'Tullins
Cloud Cult - Chemicals Collide


Skip this if you don't want to hear a pretty sizable ramble:
i love my copy of "laughter and forgetting." it's this old translation that i prefer to the newer one. anyone who has read kundera will love the following and understand the perfection of the following:
when i bought it, it had an inscription in it, signed with love. whoever received this book traded it into a used book store where i bought it and wrote an inscription in it, signed with love. when i broke up with the girl i gifted it to, i kept the book (not only is it my favorite translation, it has an essential interview w/kundera in the back.) so here's this kundera book with two different pledges of love, at least one of which has totally been rescinded.

for those of you who aren't familiar with kundera: a) fix it. b) sorry that the irony, and the reason for my joy, are lost on you. here is an explanation:

this book has gone backpacking twice and has been in 6 countries. at some point during it's most recent trip, the cover actually fell off, erasing my note. it's only a matter of time before kevin's note to bessie meets with a similar fate. so, two different boys used this book, which is largely about forgetting, as an artifact showcasing their eternal love. both of these specific pledges were likely voluntarily forgotten, but didn't vanish with this act of forgetting; there was still a record of these words and sentiments. there is a chance that these inscriptions are the ONLY record left of these words and sentiments (in my case, they aren't) and that all proof of this love will disintegrate with the book.

we all have things and periods in our lives that we would like to forget. have you ever thought about the artifacts and records that remain, or did you burn all their photographs? what about the times in your life that were beautiful and priceless: have you ever thought about the incomparable sadness of those memories slowly leaving you? as kundera says in the interview, "what terrifies us about death is not the loss of the future, but the loss of a past." it is our past that makes us us, and every thing we forget is a small kind of death. or not.i could easily write a good paper on this subject (as opposed to an unfocused ramble, i suppose) but i'll shut up now. if any of you made it this far and would like to read what i consider to be the second greatest book i have ever read, feel free to contact me for a copy.

i hope you like the songs...there is an awful lot of good music there to be had.

sharks season tickets kick in tomorrow and soccer starts soon!!!

discussion continues below and in comments both!


1. adam. 9/17/07
I burned all the photographs. With the letters.

Good memories fade on their own; I've found I have to forcibly purge the bad ones from my memory. Songs I associate with a particular memory are played on repeat while doing something new and interesting, or otherwise noteworthy.

In the end, the memories come back no matter what you do, but this way they're shadows of their former selves. Which is one step away from oblivion.

The antithesis of love (and hate) is apathy, and apathy begets forgetfulness.

Okay, enough being bitter... Hook me up with the second-greatest book you've ever read. I'll download the music tomorrow after class.

And woot for season tickets!


2. ali.
okay, the music is safely stowed on my computer. Thank you for that.

I've kept photographs, letters, ticket stubs. To any prospective beau, I'd have to say fooey on you if you didn't respect and acknowledge the fact that those are the relationships that have made me who I am today. You can love me more today because they loved me [and maybe hurt me] before. I keep everything. I'm still not quite sure what to do about the music though. The ones that are specifically tied to memories of someone else. I've tried not to play them, but I find that just makes me sad, since the music was so wonderful at the time. For others, I've listened back on the music and realized there was nothing inherently special about it except for the memory attached to it. I've noticed that my music collections are heavily influenced by the person that I'm dating. not good. not bad. just interesting.

I don't think it's coincidence that Kundera has played such a role in each of our perspectives on love. For me, it was "The Unbearable Lightness of Being." I haven't read the one you wrote about. I haven't read a lot of good books. Maybe its because I don't have time for it. Maybe it's because I don't make time for it. The only thing was that ULB affected me to such a high degree, and left my ex-beau so un-fazed that he couldn't focus on reading past the 6th chapter. oh well. ULB sits safely on my self of favorite books. Maybe I'll read it again.

yay for hockey.
2b. response to ali.

i'm totally a packrat. i have an embarrassing amount of swag from my serious relationships. as for people getting butt-hurt about keeping this stuff: there are guys (and girls) out there who like to pretend that they are boldly going where no man has gone before, but i think most of them grow out of it...i know that all of my jealous tendencies that reared their heads when i was a youngster have long since gone the way of the buffalo.

as for the music: there isn't much that i associate with anyone anymore. since i was in a five year deal, there was a time that EVERYthing could be tied to her in one way or another, but that has long since faded. even when i listen to mixes that i made specifically for her, there is hardly any residue (those are some fantastic mixes too!) it's also worth noting that i am usually the one in any relationship who does the introductions to new music, so i think that also helps with the lack of associations.

as for kundera...one of my life goals that has not been accomplished yet is to read UBL and LAF in prague. i absolutely love UBL. the first time i read kundera was in the most brilliantly crafted course i have ever taken. i ordered it offline and it arrived the day i had a paper due. i had to read it cover to cover (there shall be no skimming of kundera, please!) and write an essay in one night. luckily, it was one of the best books i've read.
i could very easily speak or write for hours about kundera. since that shotgun reading of UBL, i have read all but two of the remainder of his library, with LAF emerging as the most shockingly brilliant (ok...i managed to mistype both shockingly and brilliant, which feels ironic.) it is a lot harder to swallow than UBL, but it is so daring and awesome and put me there, in prague, in a magical way. i also believe that it can change lives.
as for his views on love...i'm surprised to hear that he has so profoundly affected your's, but i suppose that, in all truth, i don't know you very well. he usually offers such a clinical, often bleak, view of love and i guess i always pegged you as a romantic. but, one of the wonderful things about kundera is that he writes truly philosophical novels. by this, i mean that he rarely offers answers when he can offer a question. what i think of his take on love can not be objectively correct...he doesn't allow for it. as the man himself says, "The stupidity of people comes from having an answer for everything. The wisdom of the novel comes from having a question for everything." he never paints tereza as stupid or truly weak, regardless of what she and tomas think...that decision is left up to the reader.

i have to go to school (before i look over what i wrote...i hope it makes sense...i usually do) but thank you for the response ali. if you send me your address, i'll send you a copy of LAF.

and yes, yay for hockey.


3. Nick.

how can I obtain a copy of these discs, the arists are awesome! once again, your blog is awesome and so insightful to music that I love, but can never find it.


3b. response to Nick.

i only have a handful of those complete albums.

i was actually working from a playlist of songs that i downloaded from other blogs, so i only have one or two songs from many of them.

amazon is always a pretty good place to start when looking for music, but for many of these artists, the record label is going to be the only place that has the discs for sale.

4. Moneer.

How exactly does one maneuver with a .rar file? I'm sitting here wondering when I'll get to peek into the sounds of each song and enjoy their momentary realism but I cannot find where the big red button should be that let's you play .rar.

If you haven't noticed by now, I'm lazy as a lifestyle choice and although I haven't lost any memories, most of them are lazily drugged, bound, and gagged and in second place right now; the reptile brain is winning- confronting memories (the good, the bag, and the ugly) just makes me feel old and crazed. "What the hell did I do that for? OMG...I can't believe that was me...it wasn't me! never mind..."

I'm in love with my artifacts though, because without them my memories take on silly personas and start acting out- without them I have no evidence of my humble origins, with them I can connect to the "then" and I can sense it "now"

900 songs !! love your playlists btw, consistently divine thanks so much


4b. Response to Moneer.

here is a list of downloads for unpacking .rar files. ignore the fact that they say "trial"...i've had mine for a couple of years now. if you are on windows, use winrar, if not: good luck and buy a real computer ;)

what on earth is a "bag" memory?


4c. reply from Moneer

hmmmmm....wish I knew.

Maybe it's like the bag that you put your garbage in or something...should be a heavy duty bag though...wouldnt want it to rip if you put a razor-sharp memory in there (like a can of worms tossed in it or so)

gotta have the heavy duty bags...


4d. and back again.

i have a couple that no bag could hold...


5. Jules.

I like to think of it as my own personal 'love metric'... from the two relationships that have meant the most to me, I have an amazing collection of memories captured in words (letters, notes, emails, book notations)... from those that passed leaving little trace... well. That about says it!

: )


6. Lo.

So funny that I haven't visited your venerable blog for many weeks and the one day that I do is the day that I'm both re-reading UBL and struggling with the increasing ambiguity of love and past and willful forgetfulness. It makes me happy to know that others (you) are reading this and getting the same heartbreaking truths out of it. God, I love Kundera. I am dying to go to Prague, in fact. I loved your story of the BLF, I think it's so apt to everything he's saying. Isn't it funny when life parallels art, perhaps because of what it is. Truth. Plain and simple. Another really strange coincidence (or maybe not) I just picked up a new copy of Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters, and I thought of you.

Also, on the music side of things, are you an Alexi Murdoch fan? I'm listening right now. The song, I think, is just called "12" and it is wonderful, but there are many more where that came from on this album. Hope you're well:)


7. Ronnie.

I know this is a bit of a delayed response but this is the first time I've sat down and really read/listened to your music blog so here goes... (Comparatively sizable ramble ahead)

I am coming to terms with the fact that I am now very much in love in the new sense that the end game of our relationship is a question mark. I should explain... With every relationship I've ever been in, me being a calculating man (which is considered contemptible by the samurai code for those of you who have read Hagakure), I have always almost immediately envisioned the point where the relationship would inevitably end. With some I came to this realization with greater accuracy than others... I have even been surprised and caught off guard a couple times with timing of the end. Nevertheless, the relevant fact is that I always envisioned it ending.

I don't know if 'scared' is the right adjective to use to describe the fact that I am currently with the woman who I could maybe someday hypothetically perhaps potentially be able to commit to spending the rest of my life with but it's something close to that word. For those of you who don't know me very well, the previous sentence should be a pretty huge indicator that I have commitment issues. I do know right now she is the only one I want and I am very happy with that.

Maybe it is that I'm afraid that it will go away like so many other failed declarations of love that I have witnessed or experienced, or maybe I'm more afraid that it won't go away which is usually my easy resolution of any adverse issues that may arise. I keep being reminded of the impermanent nature of love and human beings in general. If you are into Zen philosophy, like the cherry blossom, impermanence is an integral part of love's beauty. On the other hand, Yuko Mishima would argue that true beauty, to be preserved throughout all eternity, must be struck down at its height, because time inevitably deteriorates everything.

So maybe I'm afraid of the loss of love, or worse, the slow deterioration of love. I agree with Kundera when he says that it is the loss of our past, not our future, which terrifies us about death. I am terrified of losing what I have right now. I have an amazing group of close friends, an amazing relationship with an amazing girl who wants nothing more than to be with me and live our lives together, an awesome home, ultimate potential to pursue anything I want, and go anywhere I want.

I'm not necessarily in agreement with Mr. Mishima about the best course of action; however he does pose an interesting philosophy. I hope that Mishima is not correct in his assertion that I should end this before it becomes something less than perfect. I prefer to think of love as evolving and growing, sometimes dying, but ever continuing.

Anyways, I've been doing a great deal of thinking about the philosophy behind and nature of love lately and I happened to read this particular blog at this particular moment and it really spoke to me. I desperately want to read Kundera now, however I cannot promise to do so before I graduate in December because so much of my efforts are concentrated on school right now.

Deric, I don't know if I've told you this but I love and appreciate your style of writing. Write a book already! Furthermore you have awesome taste in music, a complement that I rarely give. It seems most people are either lyrics people, or instrumental people, but you are both. I have not had the time to keep up with new music in a while but I have subscribed to your blog and will shamelessly promote it. If there was a man who I'd go gay for, which there isn't, it would be you.

P.S. To those of you reading this who are my close friends, seriously you guys are awesome. I've hung out with other people's groups of friends, and they suck by comparison.


4b. Response to Ronnie.

there is certainly a certain amount of wonderful fear involved in that sort of love for us analytical folks. it is easily the best and worst thing in the world. i recommend that you just hold out your arms and float in it, enjoying the simultaneous lightness and heaviness of it all (gotta keep the kundera thread alive)...like when you are drunk and you close your eyes and the wold starts spinning and you have the choice to fight it or hang on for the ride.

as for zen philosophy, i am woefully ignorant. i can't remember what movie it is in (and i can't even find it using google, which i can't understand, unless i'm actually thinking about a dream of mine, in which case it would make sense that it's not on google...if it turns out to be a dream, then i am even smarter than i thought...especially since i may actually be paraphrasing MYSELF!!! how smart [or narcissistic] do you have to be to start paraphrasing yourself?) when they quote some philosopher's view that the perfect love affair would involve being madly in love with a girl in the peak of her beauty and having her die so that all of the piss and shit and lies never have a chance to appear (it sounds existential...perhaps sartre?) i take it that this is pretty similar to what mishima is saying. for my money though, there are so many different sorts of love, each of them triggered by such disparate situations and i'd like to believe that i will one day get to wade through many of them with someone amazing. like you, i manage to be some weird sort of jaded romantic.

send me your address and i will mail you a copy of BLF.

also, i've always dug your writing too. i've thought many times how lucky it was that chas managed to land such great roommates and how i have completely reaped the benefits as well. i'm for it. i would absolutely list you and mike among my best friends. being as i don't even refer to most of my acquaintances as 'friends', the term 'best friends' carries an awful lot of weight from me...here's to ssu!

also, the mesh on my golf bag looks scarily like olmec and i can't stop staring at it.


4c. RonnieExtra kudos for the Spanish guitar music. Especially Stairway. That is the first and only cover of Stairway that I've ever heard that I will endorse.


4d. Me

same here.

rodrigo y gabriella are awesome. i tried to show them to you at your house one time, but you were too drunk to focus.


4e. Ronnie 1 year, two months later.

It is ironic that my post to this blog has become a sort-of sad tribute the last blissful shred of my ignorance, at least with regards to that situation. Particularly given the topic of saving old pics, ticket stubs, mementos, etc. It also seems to tie in with Kundera, The Book of Laughter and Forgetting. Maybe it's time I revisit Kundera, or read some of his other books.

It would be easy to look at myself at the time of the above post and call myself stupid. However, I don't think that was necessarily the case. I was apparently aware of the risks, and the outright probability that things wouldn't work out. I suppose the fact that the risks of living are great and that life can be scary should not deter one from experiencing everything that life has to offer. The good and the bad.

"True beauty, to be preserved throughout all eternity, must be struck down at its height, because time inevitably deteriorates everything.

So maybe I'm afraid of the loss of love, or worse, the slow deterioration of love."

The slow deterioration of love was definitely the most painful part now that I think about it. Perhaps my desire not to be serious about anyone but myself for the next decade really stems from my fear of being hurt again. I know that it's going to be years before I can trust anyone that much, at least among those who haven't already earned it.

A wise music blog proprietor recently said, "How sad would it be to get to the end of your life and not have any scars to show for it?"

Now that is probably paraphrasing, and I know it is taken out of context. However, sometimes those little random bits of wisdom stick out and resonate with you even if that's not how they were originally intended.

I'll end with the following quotation that also has resonated very well with me lately.

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."
-Teddy Roosevelt

Yes, it would be a terrible shame to reach the end of your life and not have any scars.

Do not count me among those who have never / will never taste victory or defeat. I strive to achieve victory, I will accept and overcome defeat, but I will not settle for leading a mediocre life.

the cure for the uncommon warmth?

april!? it's been since april?

wow.

well, there is no doubt that i'm terrible about updating, but if it helps, i feel like i just posted that last one (though, i suppose the sharks would still have had to be in the playoffs, huh?)

the story is this. i've been playing a game online which has nearly 100% taken the place of searching for music. however, i've started to drift back. i thought i'd share some of the newest and an older one.

i would feel bad if i didn't give credit where credit is due and admit that the first couple come from Aurgasm, one of my three favorite music sites on the interwebs.





Enur feat. Natasha. Calabria.

i am really hard to please w/dance music. i know it pisses people off too...they are all stoked and swaying and i am such a damn killjoy, but you all know that i don't lie. for some more honesty, i suppose this is how i feel about most music (prince and MJ come to mind as dancy artists that people seem to appreciate who i can't stand...don't even come at me w/gwen and say that her albums are useful for anything but sticking below a table's leg to stop it from tipping)
however, when people manage to make dance music that i like, i listen to it for years, as anyone who has ever taken a road trip with me can attest.
this is the latest dance song that i totally dig. it's even more repetitive than most that grab me, but i'll tell you what, it conjures something for me. it conjures oppressive heat on a street w/squat buildings and condensation on a glass of water.
did i mention that it's terribly hot in the real world right now? if this song doesn't make you enjoy the heat for a few seconds, move to the pacific northwest already.




Ben Sollee. A Change is Gonna Come.
Ben Sollee. How To See the Sun Rise.

well...the fine gentleman from Aurgasm tried to classify this as "cello-pop/acoustic folk" which is sorta fair, i suppose. it certainly points you down the road toward what Ben is doing. however, i can't escape the jazz/soul/70's rock vibe that is not just included, but central in my eyes. he may be classically trained, but his upbringing in the south takes the fore.
this is more warm-weather music....but cool warm weather music.
seriously, you'll like it...what a debut.




Rogue Wave. Eyes.

i forget how much i like rogue wave. this happens to me a lot. i do have quite a lot of music, and i really only listen to a few playlists based on what mood i'm in, and for some reason, none of these playlists contain rogue wave.
thankfully, commercials come along and jog my memory sometimes.
i've heard this lovely song in at least two commercials and a few shows too.
if you dig DCFC and the shins, you'll love it.
it is such a pretty song...remember when your parents read fantastical stories to you to you when you were a child? that's what it sounds like.


nothing fancy tonight. just songs.
oh...songs and the information that i'm not on fire and neither is my house. watsonville is on fire. there is something very creepy about driving past a place that you have driven by thousands of times before...only this time it's on fire. so strange. houses. trees. there were hundreds of firemen doing their thing and a few choppers dropping water about 50 ft from our car. if you know a fireman, say thank you for me.

She's all states, and all princes I

i'm actually going to do a rare thing and start w/words, not music. however, it's pretty easy to figure out where my lucid dreaming stops and where the music begins.

with the exception of one or two other posts, i never go into them with any plan or purpose. i never have any idea where they will go and i don't usually edit. i put on whatever music i want to share and write as i listen to it. "why are you staring into outer space" has always been the finnegan's wake of music blogs (one of the most brilliant people i've ever met said that the only way to read ulysses was in a hot bath with a minimum of one bottle of red wine...i'd appreciate the same criteria for my blog.) as though this paragraph could lead to anywhere else, this one is slightly different. i'm going to try to take my time while i sip my wine.

a few days ago i filled out an online survey on which i answered the question, "where is your favorite place in the world?"

in the whole wide world...hhhmmmmmmmmm...

since the survey was sent to me by a sj sharks buddy, who had answered, "the shark tank," i followed in her footsteps. however, the stupid little question nagged at me in a way that a silly little myspace repost survey answer never should.
i thought and thought and came up with a handful of moments where i felt perfect and complete and just right. they were pretty diverse moments. watching my sister play santa on xmas, and handing a present to mom that she totally didn't see coming. i've been to a couple of concerts that were nearly transcendent...joanna newsom comes to mind. there are those moments with my favorite boys, when the love in the room makes strangers uncomfortable (the segovia's field...slave ship...bubblegum on a bbq?) seeing one of my defenders score her first varsity goal in the playoffs, in the last game of her high school career. watching chas read his vows and grin like an idiot through his first dance.

and then there are those moments with girls. one or two of those stand out. ..but no one wants to hear about all of that.

and on and on and on...i hope everyone has an insanely long list like this.

but see, all these memories that came to mind were moments...not really places. so, back to the drawing board.

(now, i'm a good enough writer to understand that i could turn any of those into places...but that doesn't really seem to be in the spirit of the question...now does it?)

so...places. my answer of the shark tank is a good one and would make any list...there is no feeling like screaming in pure ecstasy with 18,000 other people, i literally almost made myself pass out twice this season from screaming so hard...seriously, i almost pitched forward both times. the top story of MOMA in ny. pt lobos and mavis lake. dog beach when it's packed.

but--to be perfectly frank--none of these really did it for me. however, the survey didn't matter at all, and i was tired of hammering the thing half to death (though trying to recall one's happiest moments isn't the saddest way to spend ten minutes) so i left my original answer of "the shark tank."

but, later that day, i was listening to my ipod on random...and the answer was given to me. the simple and simplistic answer:





The Decemberists. Of Angels and Angles.
There are angels in your angles
There's a low moon caught in your tangles
There's a ticking at the sill
There's a purr of a pigeon to break the still of day

As on we go drowning
Down we go away
And darling, we go a-drowning
Down we go away
Away

There's a tough word on your crossword
There's a bed bug nipping a finger
There's a swallow, there's a calm
Here's a hand to lay on your open palm today

As on we go drowning
Down we go away
And darling, we go a-drowning
Down we go away
Away

There are angels in your angles
There's a low moon caught in your tangles



i'm very aware that my interpretation of this song's meaning may have very little connection to colin's intentions....and i can see the darkness in it if i wish. but, for me, this is a song about the calm perfection of laying in bed in love. this isn't a message to a coy mistress, quite the opposite! it's a celebration of the blissful isolation of love beneath sheets, that place where the outside world has no dominion. a place without modestly or shame. a place where only two exist and even their imperfections are completely perfect. a place where the outside world not only has no dominion, but where it can be completely and truly forgotten because....maybe....just maybe...the world extends out in all directions from that bed.

and so, that is my answer. that is my favorite place.

it is a place where i haven't been in so many years. i've been close though...

ps...
y'all should hope that i don't fall in love again...otherwise you may never see me here again ;)
(ed note: HA! how true that was...3/23/11)

omg! a totally awesome and fun and seaworthy bonus song for those of you who made it to the bottom. see, the blog hasn't gone completely emo on you:

The Decemberists. The Mariner's Revenge Song. Lyrics.

With so many lovers singing soft...

as nearly always, music up front, personal stuff at the end.

i'm not going to apologize for how long i've been away. you can just deal w/it. stuff happens. we all go through periods where we'd rather play nerdy online games w/no moving pictures than write public messages to no one in particular. you shouldn't think that i don't appreciate you...or that i want you to stop reading. i just fell out of the pack a day music habit i had for roughly two years there. i went a little cold-turkey and frankly, i'm probably still not back on it...but i'll do my best to do right by you.




Farryl Purkiss. Times Like These.

this first one is a dedication to a friend of mine from down southways who has a penchant for mopey acoustic music (and yet only had dashboard's new, terrible, albums.) i have a couple of songs by this good looking gentleman, and in both of them, it's the pretty dual guitar parts that grab me. his lyrics are fine (though they are kinda hum-drum) but i would listen to this song as an instrumental. i loves me some acoustic guitaaar. so, hope you enjoy it.




Teitur. Catherine the Waitress.
Teitur. We Still Drink the Same Water.

I thought i'd also include someone who's been on my blog before as half a duet, but never by himself. Teitur (tie'tor) surprised me with the following tracks as i only knew him from his duets (some of which are with some pretty big names.) who knew there was a little pop star in him (probably everyone who actually knew anything about him...unlike me)? those of you who are long time readers are sure to know that i love songs that could be described as ditties. "Catherine the Waitress" is a ditty. the second song is something of a bonus and is much closer to what i figured his new album would contain. it's playful yet a little melancholy, and something like sparsely orchestral. deal with that.




Little Dragon. Twice.

now...this is the heart of the post. this is the one song that has managed to pierce my musical apathy over the last few months. this is totally my favorite song right now. i was talking w/a friend just last night about how this song can be put on repeat for ever! i appreciate this of unobtrusive songs. songs that can easily be thirty minutes long if you so desire. truth be told, i find just once through to be disappointing with this precious gem of a song.
i'm not completely in love with the album, though i find it fascinating. i hear albums described as unclassifiable pretty often...though i almost never agree with this assessment. however, Little Dragon borrows and improves and kicks ass with pieces of this and that, living in none of them. i hope you love this one more than most.




i had plans to party in a hangar tonight, but i decided to pass them up in favor of a good night's sleep. of course, anyone who knows me, knows that a good night's sleep is never a sure thing with or without military mixers.

the pitiful truth of the matter is that i could have used the distraction tonight. the last short period of time, i've felt a little bit like that poor baby Gibson and Walk tortured all those years ago (eff you psych 1a!...you didn't think i'd remember anything, did you?!?!), poised to crawl out into the unknown a little bit, except i'm going for it. new things starting, meeting old things not restarting, meeting a handful of old stuff going away. in fact, my current wish is to change almost everything about my life, minus you wonderful folks. wish me some luck please.

if anyone is left in sonoma, i'll be there this weekend. call if you want a visit as i have literally nothing in my life to rush back for.

muah!

so pick your risk and take it...

i know that i'm a terrible blogger. i really do.

this is actually the second or third time i've tried to write for you...so i haven't forgotten you completely...i have high hopes for this one actually emerging completed since i've got two songs to share (if i had even one drink in me, i'm pretty sure this would be the spot for a tangent about what happens to a blog deferred...alas: soberness.)





Katie Dill. The Body's Only Rental.

Oh God. i love little girls w/ukeleles more than anything...even cinnamon rolls...and i will continue to feel that way until the song ends.
it's karmic and lovely and wiser than it lets on.
two of the last four weddings i have attended have been luau themed. i think the IZ version of somewhere over the rainbow has played at three of the four. as a result, hawaiin music sounds like love to me at this point.
how could this song possibly come from newark?
more importantly, how are you going to use your gentle today?





Elliott Smith. Place Pigalle. Lyrics.

i straight up ripped off this idea for a post from one of the most successful indie music blogs on the net, and one of my favorites: I Guess I'm Floating. go there and read what he has to say about everything. i played the song and decided that you all needed it in your lives.

elliott likely needs no introduction. he shouldn't.

he is famous for tragedy and for beauty...unfortunately not in equal parts.

if john lennon had died ten years earlier, i would have insisted that he and smith shared a soul, and that we should watch for another genius coming our way in 13 or so years. alas, a tired comparison is all we get.

for those of you who are already smith fans, this song was intended for figure 8. in fact, the album was originally to be called "Place Pigalle" [for further trivia...it should be noted that the title track, "Figure 8", a school-house rock song, didn't make the album either, but was included on a single instead.] at least we can eternally be thankful that elliott never seemed to have gone a day w/o recording a wonderful b-side for us to find years later. it must be disheartening to some that smith might be the best act out there, posthumously. this must be how rappers feel about tupac.

if anyone is interested in more of his b-sides, let me know...i'd be happy to post links.



thanks for stopping by folks. i'll try to update more often, but no promises.