IPOD
RADIO
Today's ruling is "a return to our fundamental values. That return marks a high-water point. It shows that we can't be scared out of who we are."
Commander Charles Swift
Commander Charles Swift
Summer Sleaze and a bit of Cheese
1. Father Figure - George Michael
2. Going Down/Love in an Elevator - Aerosmith
3. Bad Babysitter - Princess Superstar
4. Shake Your Dix - Peaches
5. Oral Contraception - Woody Allen
6. This Is Hardcore - Pulp
7. When Doves Cry - Prince & the REvolution
8. Hey Girl - Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley
9. Rump Shaker (Wicked Mix) - Wreckx N Effect
10. Frank Sinatra - Miss Kitten
11. Ignition - R. Kelly
12. Fucking on the Dance Floor - Dirty Sanchez
13. Veruca Salt et Frank Black - Vincent Delerm
14. Buenas Tardes Amigos - Ween
15. Landslide - Smashing Pumpkins
16. I Can Hear the Sex Noise - Electric Eel Shock
So yeah, that's about where I'm at.
1. Father Figure - George Michael
2. Going Down/Love in an Elevator - Aerosmith
3. Bad Babysitter - Princess Superstar
4. Shake Your Dix - Peaches
5. Oral Contraception - Woody Allen
6. This Is Hardcore - Pulp
7. When Doves Cry - Prince & the REvolution
8. Hey Girl - Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley
9. Rump Shaker (Wicked Mix) - Wreckx N Effect
10. Frank Sinatra - Miss Kitten
11. Ignition - R. Kelly
12. Fucking on the Dance Floor - Dirty Sanchez
13. Veruca Salt et Frank Black - Vincent Delerm
14. Buenas Tardes Amigos - Ween
15. Landslide - Smashing Pumpkins
16. I Can Hear the Sex Noise - Electric Eel Shock
So yeah, that's about where I'm at.
"I have to say - I am very saddened and I hope you are OK. I will always love you. -b."
I sent this message tonight to convey concisely what I feel. I think I did a fine job. I truly am saddened.
Good to be back. I hope all those I have met are well.
Brian
(fun smile in respect of my happy happy, on occasion complicated, soul)
<oh yeah, you've given us one. Thank you SG.>
I sent this message tonight to convey concisely what I feel. I think I did a fine job. I truly am saddened.
Good to be back. I hope all those I have met are well.
Brian
(fun smile in respect of my happy happy, on occasion complicated, soul)
<oh yeah, you've given us one. Thank you SG.>
I'm going to Disneyworld and the rest of Orlando tomorrow morning (or, I guess, in a few hours) for the first family vacation in many, many years. I've decided to bring a Dante reader and Anna Karenina, along with Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet to reread and make notes (you know, during breaks). I truly hope I will read one of the two that I haven't yet read, so I will not read anything else the entire vacation. I wonder if the experiment will work. It's been a bit since I disappeared into a novel in the longest, Russian sense of the word.
Oh yeah, and I'm (truly -- without any irony, barring something I don't know that all of you do know) pshyched to ride the movies.
Oh yeah, and I'm (truly -- without any irony, barring something I don't know that all of you do know) pshyched to ride the movies.
A Tight Stanza and the rest
She is the fire in firewood,
The footprint of a party
Stumbling through the snow.
She's wet sand, the sun abaft the clouds
and a wick; an unstruck match
that smells of smoke.
She is the fire in firewood,
The footprint of a party
Stumbling through the snow.
She's wet sand, the sun abaft the clouds
and a wick; an unstruck match
that smells of smoke.
WELL, the weekend has certainly let the wind out. I awoke Saturday full of vinegar, prepared to finish the week and get on with the rest. A breakfast of sausages and a pot of coffee, three cigarettes and a shower and I was out the door to wander a bit before work.
Although there is a lake just out my window with winding paths and a nice spot with trees, I find myself drawn to the clamor of the boulevard. Perhaps it is the passive anonymity of the crowd, the mass that washes past; one by one, two by four, each vectored slightly askew to keep the whole machine running not running into each other. I think it also has something to do with the girls in springtime skirts.
Baudelaire wrote of the flaneur, an idler and passionate observer, and this notion grows ripe in the sun of a spring afternoon. "The flaneur surrenders to the intoxication of the community around." Alas, Mssr. B. found himself slave to his revolutionary times and tied this noble idea to the material, to commerce. He didn't realize, it seems, that to define one's disobedience in terms of the material, even in rebellion against it, is to subjugate all further decisions to that same artless rationale, reducing the stock of life to a demi of absurdity. Still, his spirit fills me this spring afternoon.
I like to combine flaneur with voyeur, not least because I get to purse my lips twice. It is a small step from passionately observing the entirety of the crowd to focusing on girls in skirts and girls in tank tops and girls in shorts with "Bucky" on the back. The humming symphony pauses and the strings emerge. And so I continued my promenade, falling in love seventeen times. Flah-neuurr. Vwah-yuurr.
AS I worked my way up and back down State Street, I noticed a flash of red to my right. Always bemused by the chance of a bauble, I turned toward it and into three girls walking the opposite direction. I lowered my headphones and smiled, apologizing for my clumsiness, all the time scanning the crowd across the street for that splash of color. The three walked on and I stood at the curb, each face across the way one form with the next and not a drop of red. I idled on.
A block further down, I paused to look in a shop window. Two mannequins sat at a low table, one holding an empty martini glass. To the side was a small love seat on which another mannequin sprawled out, a Champagne bottle leaned against her leg. The table held an ashtray complete with cigarette butts, a wineglass stained with lipstick and a small square mirror topped by a rolled up bill. Each wore a somewhat plain sweater set in the grays and browns of a tony suburban office. In the glass of the window I saw it again. The red, reflected from behind, with a streak of white cut right beneath. I turned as quickly as I could, but it was gone. The crowd followed by the crowd after the crowd, but not a stroke of red. Realizing I had fifteen minutes before work, I turned in that direction and walked.
AFTER work, we went out for a few drinks and soon it was bar time. My week over, I was not yet prepared to return home and I sought out a co-worker, Ellie, who was busily dialing her phone. A couple jokes and a bit of lingering as the others left and we were soon on our way to an apartment building near campus. "I'm not sure what to expect," she had confided. "They said they have a case of Champagne and weed, so I think it will be fun."
The apartment was in a new building of the type sprouting up with some regularity these days. A few stores on the first level, balconies on each unit. They likely advertise high-speed internet access as cable television is so 1999. After a short elevator trip we were at the door, and soon we each had our own bottle of bubbly. We bounced around, meeting new people and laughing and laughing. It was quite nice.
The music seemed to get louder as the evening wore on. Thumming rock turned to thumping dance music and the general demeanor of those in attendance rose with the beats. I believe Britney Spears was screaming out over the speakers when the door opened and I saw a bright swatch of red cut with white as two people dressed as the University of Wisconsin mascot entered the room.
I had drunk a good amount by this time, and I must admit I was rather high, so I burst into giggling and stepped back to the wall. The two badgers threw their arms into the air and bounced into the center of the room, Britney giving it her all as they began to dance. Soon girls from the party were dancing with them as those of us on the perimeter met each other's eyes to confirm this was all real. Time lost its hold of us as the surreal spectacle played out. The Buckies were booty hopping, the Buckies were booty stopping, the Buckies were dropping and doing the booty wop. One girl found herself between the two Buckies on the ground, one beneath her as the other slapped her ass and ground into her. There were Bucky kisses.
It was around this point that time seeped back into the apartment. I stepped outside to the balcony and caught up with Ellie, who had begged off one of the Buckies when he approached her. "Do you know these guys?"
"No." She began laughing again.
"This is fucking awesome. Thanks for bringing me."
Two of her male friends wandered over. The taller one leaned in, "Um, this is starting to get a little out of control. Who are these guys?"
"I don't know," I spoke up. "But the girls don't seem to be fighting them off."
"I don't like it. I think we need to do something."
I lit a cigarette. "I don't know. I'm just gonna stand out here and smoke my cigarette and keep watching."
"We should take their heads off," Ellie proposed and reached a hand out for the buttons on the Bucky who had backed up to the balcony door. "Come here, you!" She was laughing again and grabbed my cigarette. The bucky dove back into the center of the room.
"Yeah, come here." The tall guy followed.
I turned toward the skyline downtown and leaned on the railing. Stars are more visible in Madison than in any other city I've visited. I took a breath and leaned out further. Ellie leaned out next to me. "So are you having a good time?"
"Oh yeah. Thanks again. This is definitely more than I'd imagined."
"Good. I'm glad you're having fun."
She smiled and touched my hand as I heard a crash behind us followed by a girl screaming.
"Kevin, what the fuck are you doing?!" Another scream.
We both turned around and went to the room. The door was open and only one Bucky remained. He was splayed on the floor in the entrance way and a foot was in mid swing toward his ribs. The taller guy stood just behind his regular-sized friend who was delivering the kick.
"What the fuck, Kevin!" The girl who maybe lived in the apartment pushed the tall guy. "Paul, stop him! He's being an asshole!" Bucky was pulling at the carpet, trying to right himself. The girl grabbed a glass on the counter and splashed the last bit of Champagne in it on the three. "Get the fuck out of here!"
Bucky made it to the door and fell forward, trying to run before he was up. He hit the wall and steadied himself, then turned down the hallway and fled.
Ellie grabbed my arm. "I think it's time to go."
Although there is a lake just out my window with winding paths and a nice spot with trees, I find myself drawn to the clamor of the boulevard. Perhaps it is the passive anonymity of the crowd, the mass that washes past; one by one, two by four, each vectored slightly askew to keep the whole machine running not running into each other. I think it also has something to do with the girls in springtime skirts.
Baudelaire wrote of the flaneur, an idler and passionate observer, and this notion grows ripe in the sun of a spring afternoon. "The flaneur surrenders to the intoxication of the community around." Alas, Mssr. B. found himself slave to his revolutionary times and tied this noble idea to the material, to commerce. He didn't realize, it seems, that to define one's disobedience in terms of the material, even in rebellion against it, is to subjugate all further decisions to that same artless rationale, reducing the stock of life to a demi of absurdity. Still, his spirit fills me this spring afternoon.
I like to combine flaneur with voyeur, not least because I get to purse my lips twice. It is a small step from passionately observing the entirety of the crowd to focusing on girls in skirts and girls in tank tops and girls in shorts with "Bucky" on the back. The humming symphony pauses and the strings emerge. And so I continued my promenade, falling in love seventeen times. Flah-neuurr. Vwah-yuurr.
AS I worked my way up and back down State Street, I noticed a flash of red to my right. Always bemused by the chance of a bauble, I turned toward it and into three girls walking the opposite direction. I lowered my headphones and smiled, apologizing for my clumsiness, all the time scanning the crowd across the street for that splash of color. The three walked on and I stood at the curb, each face across the way one form with the next and not a drop of red. I idled on.
A block further down, I paused to look in a shop window. Two mannequins sat at a low table, one holding an empty martini glass. To the side was a small love seat on which another mannequin sprawled out, a Champagne bottle leaned against her leg. The table held an ashtray complete with cigarette butts, a wineglass stained with lipstick and a small square mirror topped by a rolled up bill. Each wore a somewhat plain sweater set in the grays and browns of a tony suburban office. In the glass of the window I saw it again. The red, reflected from behind, with a streak of white cut right beneath. I turned as quickly as I could, but it was gone. The crowd followed by the crowd after the crowd, but not a stroke of red. Realizing I had fifteen minutes before work, I turned in that direction and walked.
AFTER work, we went out for a few drinks and soon it was bar time. My week over, I was not yet prepared to return home and I sought out a co-worker, Ellie, who was busily dialing her phone. A couple jokes and a bit of lingering as the others left and we were soon on our way to an apartment building near campus. "I'm not sure what to expect," she had confided. "They said they have a case of Champagne and weed, so I think it will be fun."
The apartment was in a new building of the type sprouting up with some regularity these days. A few stores on the first level, balconies on each unit. They likely advertise high-speed internet access as cable television is so 1999. After a short elevator trip we were at the door, and soon we each had our own bottle of bubbly. We bounced around, meeting new people and laughing and laughing. It was quite nice.
The music seemed to get louder as the evening wore on. Thumming rock turned to thumping dance music and the general demeanor of those in attendance rose with the beats. I believe Britney Spears was screaming out over the speakers when the door opened and I saw a bright swatch of red cut with white as two people dressed as the University of Wisconsin mascot entered the room.
I had drunk a good amount by this time, and I must admit I was rather high, so I burst into giggling and stepped back to the wall. The two badgers threw their arms into the air and bounced into the center of the room, Britney giving it her all as they began to dance. Soon girls from the party were dancing with them as those of us on the perimeter met each other's eyes to confirm this was all real. Time lost its hold of us as the surreal spectacle played out. The Buckies were booty hopping, the Buckies were booty stopping, the Buckies were dropping and doing the booty wop. One girl found herself between the two Buckies on the ground, one beneath her as the other slapped her ass and ground into her. There were Bucky kisses.
It was around this point that time seeped back into the apartment. I stepped outside to the balcony and caught up with Ellie, who had begged off one of the Buckies when he approached her. "Do you know these guys?"
"No." She began laughing again.
"This is fucking awesome. Thanks for bringing me."
Two of her male friends wandered over. The taller one leaned in, "Um, this is starting to get a little out of control. Who are these guys?"
"I don't know," I spoke up. "But the girls don't seem to be fighting them off."
"I don't like it. I think we need to do something."
I lit a cigarette. "I don't know. I'm just gonna stand out here and smoke my cigarette and keep watching."
"We should take their heads off," Ellie proposed and reached a hand out for the buttons on the Bucky who had backed up to the balcony door. "Come here, you!" She was laughing again and grabbed my cigarette. The bucky dove back into the center of the room.
"Yeah, come here." The tall guy followed.
I turned toward the skyline downtown and leaned on the railing. Stars are more visible in Madison than in any other city I've visited. I took a breath and leaned out further. Ellie leaned out next to me. "So are you having a good time?"
"Oh yeah. Thanks again. This is definitely more than I'd imagined."
"Good. I'm glad you're having fun."
She smiled and touched my hand as I heard a crash behind us followed by a girl screaming.
"Kevin, what the fuck are you doing?!" Another scream.
We both turned around and went to the room. The door was open and only one Bucky remained. He was splayed on the floor in the entrance way and a foot was in mid swing toward his ribs. The taller guy stood just behind his regular-sized friend who was delivering the kick.
"What the fuck, Kevin!" The girl who maybe lived in the apartment pushed the tall guy. "Paul, stop him! He's being an asshole!" Bucky was pulling at the carpet, trying to right himself. The girl grabbed a glass on the counter and splashed the last bit of Champagne in it on the three. "Get the fuck out of here!"
Bucky made it to the door and fell forward, trying to run before he was up. He hit the wall and steadied himself, then turned down the hallway and fled.
Ellie grabbed my arm. "I think it's time to go."
Right Said Fred
They beat electroclash by ten years and made an electronic dance music #1, not a bad achievement... I'm listening to Miss Kitten right now and when I hear her say "keessing your sheek" or when I view Gunther's "Ding Dong" video I can't help but think "I'm too sexy" will be viewed as a seminal single. I guess Ru Paul
fits into this theory as well, and then of course there's Serge Gainsbourg
and glam, but it's still interesting...
Dancie Dancie
They beat electroclash by ten years and made an electronic dance music #1, not a bad achievement... I'm listening to Miss Kitten right now and when I hear her say "keessing your sheek" or when I view Gunther's "Ding Dong" video I can't help but think "I'm too sexy" will be viewed as a seminal single. I guess Ru Paul
fits into this theory as well, and then of course there's Serge Gainsbourg
and glam, but it's still interesting...
Dancie Dancie
FEBRUARY 2007
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
JANUARY 2007
DECEMBER 2006
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
NOVEMBER 2006
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30