| Did you motherfuckers hear me? |
[Sep. 28th, 2006|10:10 pm] |
| [ | output |
| |  content | ] |
I said that Major Tom never died.
This is important, assholes, pay attention! |
|
|
| Major Tom didn't die in the song |
[Sep. 28th, 2006|03:19 am] |
| [ | output |
| |  contemplative | ] |
| [ | input |
| | David Bowie - Ashes to Ashes | ] |
"The song is often interpreted to be about self-destruction and estrangement from humanity. Major Tom's cryptic last message, "Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles / I'm feeling very still / And I think my spaceship knows which way to go / Tell my wife I love her very much (She knows!)", suggests that he is still alive and well and chooses to kill his circuit to ground control.
Bowie seems to confirm this interpretation with his 1980 follow up to "Space Oddity", "Ashes to Ashes", where Ground control eventually receives a message from Major Tom: "I'm happy, hope you're happy too". " |
|
|
| Bless my fucked up luck! |
[Aug. 31st, 2006|11:04 pm] |
| [ | output |
| |  awesome | ] |
| [ | input |
| | Matt Pond PA - Green Grass | ] |
I get to program the two-hour Indie Wake Up Call at CFRC this year! On Tuesdays! At a regular goddamn time!
Man my life is stupid! |
|
|
| Er, hmm |
[Aug. 31st, 2006|10:34 pm] |
| [ | output |
| |  drunk | ] |
| [ | input |
| | Muse - Sing For Absolution | ] |
<3's QC
Sven reminds me of me, somehow. Not that I'm a womanizer. Er. We look alike. A little?
|
|
|
| Almost, Almost |
[Aug. 31st, 2006|09:33 pm] |
| [ | output |
| | contemplative | ] |
| [ | input |
| | Feeder - Turn | ] |
I move back to Kingston, into my very own place, on Saturday. To say that I've been looking forward to this every day and night for the past six months would... well, it'd be accurate, but it wouldn't quite convey what relief and exultation I'm feeling. For quite some time, I've been thinking about putting to words a thorough examination of the sheer mountains of shit I've been a conduit for since January. An inventory of malaise, so to speak. Let's see what I've lost and gained in what I will, for years hence, describe as The Worst Time Evar.
Gained
~
Hatred of rain
Prediliction for barefeet
Love of Tom Waits
Estrangement from nearly all of my friends
Alienation from the intarweb
Loathing of the police
Ten pounds
Detailed knowledge vis a vis being a human wastebasket I.E. middle management
Years worth of debt
Incredibly deep bonds to my painting friends
Phobia of soffits and their many nooks
The ability to murder insects of all kinds with my bare hands
One wicked farmer's tan
Inexplicably high alcohol tolerance
Ability to paint well
Disillusionment with capitalism
Mad driving without looking at the road for minutes at a time skillz
Notches in my legs where ladder rungs go
I'm serious. Honest to God, notches!
The ability to identify paints by taste
Lost
~
All respect for The Business World
A wallet with all vestiges of my identity; stolen
Family ladder; stolen
Two thousand, five hundred dollars
Respect of my family
DFA79
Hopes for a comfortable future
Hundreds of hours of sleep
Any fear of heights
My favourite shorts
Touch with my father
My ambition
Sound in my stereo's rear speakers somehow
Concern for spelleeng
Any sexual or substance inhibitions I once harboured
I think there's more, but I've been drinking a pint of very stiff beer while writing this and I can no longer remember things. |
|
|
| We have such fun |
[Aug. 27th, 2006|12:07 am] |
| [ | output |
| | good | ] |
| [ | input |
| | Tom Waits - Earth Died Screaming | ] |
(j is for jess) says:
if i'm not responding.. that doesn't mean i'm doing something else
(j is for jess) says:
i actually have your window open and am just.. staring at the window
(j is for jess) says:
yup
Josh says:
you have the vibrant personality of a wooden spoon
Josh says:
you can.. dig things. and may be used as tinder
(j is for jess) says:
bitch. |
|
|
| Just kidding |
[Aug. 13th, 2006|11:51 pm] |
| [ | output |
| | accomplished | ] |
I'm over it. I get a little choked up when I play You're A Woman, I'm A Machine, but I think I'm going to be okay.
Alex, expect the best letter evar in your mail box on Wednesday. Who else wants real, tactile mail? I like writing these things. And I haven't used a pen in so long I could barely write my own name. |
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builtonfire's journal
cranky