So I did go out and purchase Bon Iver’s new album 22, A
Million. This is actually the first Bon Iver album in my
collection. I gotta say when I put it on it was like music to my
ears. That’s because it is music. But I did and do find it to be a
very compelling piece of work. It encourages many returns, I wanna swim in
it for a while, really get to know it. It’s a cold album, detached, just
how I love. I always forget how strong an album is Let’s Take it to the Stage
by Funkadelic, great slab of sweaty funk and soul and damn but that last song
really trips me out sometimes though not quite as much as the last song off
Pearl Jam’s 1995 album Vitalogy. Wow, Vitalogy, what a great piece of
work! Summer of Sam is on the television while I write all this
crap. One of my favorite films ever. Spike Lee is such an inspiring
artist. One of the greats. I watched a little bit of baseball at
some point today. Athletics game. Baseball is my life. I just
learned that I’ve been pronouncing Bon Iver’s name wrong this entire time,
likely due to the face that I’m a filthy degenerate. I heard a recent
review which made a comparison of their most recent album to Peter Gabriel’s
discography but I gotta say I don’t hear it. Not yet anyway. And
I’m a huge Gabriel fan! I love self-titled and melt and Security and So
and Us and the score to The Last Temptation of Christ is gorgeous!
Fucking gorgeous says I! This new Bon Iver does not sound like any of
that stuff to my ears but maybe my musical palette just isn’t refined enough to
identify this or perhaps it is more in the lyrics (which I have not yet really
investigated having only had the album for less than a day). I will say I did
not notice until after the purchase the rampant occult and Masonic symbols
adorning the cover and lyrics book (and the first music vid from what I
hear). That definitely gives me some pause! Not really sure what to
think. Yet. Those old Peter Gabriel albums though, man what great
tunes. Modern love can be a strain (incidentally, David Bowie also has a
song called Modern Love which I prefer to the Gabriel song though Gabriel’s
tune is also great, stormy and atmospheric). Could Last Temptation be Scorsese’s
finest work? Probably not THE finest but I would rank it up there. Or
maybe it would be THE finest! What a film! It’s interesting how
many non-Catholics slam Catholicism yet endorse Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the
Christ which is a very Catholic vision. Many people love wallowing in
their own filthy ignorance. That is no insult toward Mel or his film however
which I find to be a tremendous piece of art. I’m not Catholic either
though I take no umbrage with Catholicism.
The washing machine is haunted! It’s hard to tell who’s who through the collective pale veil of all these white women! October is here at last and that can only mean marathons of the most horrific variety. I had oatmeal and black coffee for breakfast, make no mistake. Oatmeal has the best of my love.
Pleasures of the flesh. Temptations run rampant all around us. I suspect absolutely no one is capable of being entirely faithful. Am I wrong? Is it luck? My socks sometimes match my shoes. There’s a serial killer on the loose, running rampant through the streets and all you can fucking think about is getting your rocks off! We’re all standing around on metaphysical street corners, waiting to take our pick. Good grief, modern rock is shit.
I keep waiting for that moment where I am naked and on my hands and knees, utterly confused with palpable terror setting in very soon. I look up and then around and the horrors begin to break down what little remains of my mind. Please don’t touch me oh God please don’t touch me I can’t get out of this. What are we gonna play? I make a fist and then I don’t have the strength to even do that. I am opened up. A moment late I’m on a city bus and everyone looks normal and ugly and then in the next second everyone looks otherworldly and terrifying and I start to laugh. We are all in for one great big surprise and I don’t think anyone is going to like what’s in store for us.
The last song I listened to before I fell asleep last night was The Electrician by The Walker Brothers. That one speaks to me on a deeply personal level. I’ll probably smear butter all over my body at some point before getting into a fight with a group of heavily armored men. When that happens I hope someone will be blasting The Eletrician somewhere in the background. It’s all about control you see. Relationships and love make people stupid. So does religion in many ways. We are all weak minded simpering idiots. I’ve been dipping my toe into the waters of Frank Zappa lately. Tis exciting to get into a new (albeit old) artist, especially one with such a massive, confusing and unwieldy discography!
Why do we have to live
in so much pain? I think I’ll fashion a
pair of wings out of some construction paper and then leap from the roof of my
posh flat! I like to imagine the wings
catastrophically failing and myself plummeting to the earth where I collide with
a hotdog stand with the impact being so great that my body is rendered
indistinguishable from the hot dog matter.
Then I like to imagine a few stray dogs coming over and gingerly licking
the red pavement and nibbling at my splattered flesh, guts and brain while a
few nearby sensitive old ladies kneel over and toss their cookies. Before I do all that though I’ll probably
drink a glass of tea (Earl Grey, hot).
Nothing closer to heart than a good cup of British char. I take it dark, no sugars.
Let’s all ruminate on
life’s inherent emptiness for a while, eh?
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