A Collection

Work continues on the thesis (done save for some revising) and the various jobs I’ve got in the interim while I look for another for-reals day job. I have set my sights high and am shopping my resume (and winning personality) around Washington. We’ll see what happens.

I have seen friends and taken care of sick animals, as well, but now everyone is on the mend.

Oh hey, we elected Barack Obama president! In case you missed it.

In short, I’ve had a couple of weeks or so where I felt like I haven’t had much to say other than tiny snippets that wouldn’t make any sense on their own. Now I’ve got enough of them, I guess, to make a collection. So! First, I always hate blog entries that are just emo song lyrics, so it makes no sense that I’m doing this, but I never listen to music as much as I’d like to anymore and I’ve always been a sucker for lyrics, copying them down in notebooks or notes or books long before the interweb was more than AOL and my email address was <random number string>@compuserve.com

Top 5 Best Song Lyric Snippets from the Last Week

  1. There’s a wicked wind still blowing on that upper deck
    There’s an iron cross still hanging down from around her neck
    There’s a marching band still playing in that vacant lot
    Where she held me in her arms one time and said, “Forget me not.”
    - Senor (Tales of Yankee Power), Bob Dylan
  2. I saw Sam Cooke
    And Ian Curtis
    At the door
    Of His golden realm
    They sang His name
    Sweet Lord in Heaven
    And then the Lord
    He let them in
    -  Sweet Lord in Heaven, Mike Doughty
  3. Oh
    can’t anybody see
    we’ve got a war to fight
    never found our way
    regardless
    of what they say
    -  Roads, Portishead
  4. Does the man who makes the shoes own you, clown? You can’t
    Even pry the name plate off, now can you? Fix it
    With your tiny fist there – James
    Van Der Beek
    and them sisters from Sister, Sister
    The only one that’s ever felt this is you
    The forces forcing you
    To feel like
    Busting up a Starbucks
    - Busting Up a Starbucks, Mike Doughty
  5. I don’t wanna go
    to Sunset Strip
    I don’t wanna feel
    the emptiness
    Bold marquees with
    stupid band names
    I don’t wanna go
    to Sunset Strip
    Sheep Go To Heaven, Cake

Top Five Things I’ve Been Doing Lately In My Free Time

  1. This
  2. This
  3. A little of this
  4. This other thing
  5. and this, every night

Top Thing I Wrote This Summer That Didn’t Turn In To A Whole Piece

It is hot these days. It is the kind of heat that immediately stupefies you, that displaces you from your regularly ordered senses, that makes you wonder where the time went or what that buzzing sound is in your ears. If this heat were sweetness, it would be cloying. If it were fear, we would all be nightmare-paralyzed from the waist down.

If it were love, it would be suffocating.

2 Comments

  • This reminds me of one of my favorite lyrics off one of my favorite albums: From the Drive-By Truckers’ Southern Rock Opera Disc 1, “Highway 72 (This Highway’s Mean)”:

    Seems like it’s always hot down here, no matter when you come
    It’s the kind of heat that holds you like a mama holds her son
    Tight when he tries to walk, even tighter if he runs
    It’s a mean old dusty highway
    But it’s the only one that’ll get you there
    That’ll get you there

  • I like that. Which is appropriate, as I just recently learned that my favorite genre of music is either ‘Southern Gothic’ or ‘anti-folk’. Labelled!

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