| Good Music |
[Dec. 19th, 2007|10:04 pm] |
a man walks out of his apartment it is raining, he's got no umbrella he starts running beneath the awnings trying to save his suit trying to dry but no good
when he gets to the crowded subway platform he takes off both of his shoes he steps right into somebody's fat loogie and everyone who sees him says, ewww
but he doesn't care cause last night he got a visit from the ghost of corporate future the ghost said, take off both your shoes whatever chances you get especially when they're wet he also said,
imagine you go away on a business trip one day and when you come back home your children have grown and you never made your wife moan, and people make you nervous you think of the world as ending and everybody's features have somehow started blending and everything is plastic and everyone's sarcastic and all your food is frozen, it needs to be defrosted you'd think that the world was ending right now
well, maybe you should just drink a lot less coffee and never ever watch the ten o'clock news maybe you should kiss someone nice or lick a rock, or both
maybe you should cut your own hair cause that can be so funny it doesn't cost any money and it always grows back, hair grows even after you're dead, and
people are just people they shouldn't make you nervous the world is everlasting, it's coming and it's going if you don't toss your plastic the street won't be [so blasted?] and if you kiss somebody then both of you'll get practice the world is everlasting put dirtballs in your pocket put dirtballs in your pocket and take off both your shoes cause people are just people people are just people like you
the world is everlasting is coming and is going
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What I dream I had: Pressed in organdy; Clothed in crinoline of smoky Burgundy; Softer than the rain. I wandered empty streets Down past the shop displays. I heard cathedral bells Tripping down the alley ways, As I walked on.
And when you ran to me Your cheeks flushed with the night. We walked on frosted fields of juniper and lamplight, I held your hand. And when I awoke and felt you warm and near, I kissed your honey hair with my grateful tears. Oh I love you, girl. Oh, I love you.
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The Mississippi Delta was shining Like a national guitar I am following the river Down the highway Through the cradle of the civil war I'm going to Graceland, Graceland In Memphis, Tennessee I'm going to Graceland Poor boys and pilgrims with families And we are going to graceland My travelling companion is nine years old He is the child of my first marriage But I've reason to believe We both will be received In Graceland
She comes back to tell me she's gone As if I didn't know that As if I didn't know my own bed As if I'd never noticed The way she brushed her hair from her forehead And she said losing love Is like a window in your heart Everybody sees you're blown apart Everybody sees the wind blow
I'm going to Graceland Memphis, Tennessee I'm going to Graceland Poor boys and pilgrims with families And we are going to Graceland And my travelling companions Are ghosts and empty sockets I'm looking at ghosts and empties But I've reason to believe We all will be received In Graceland
There is a girl in New York City Who calls herself the human trampoline And sometimes when I'm falling, flying Or tumbling in turmoil I say Oh so this is what she means She means we're bouncing into Graceland And I see losing love Is like a window in your heart Everybody sees you're blown apart Everbody feels the wind blow In Graceland, in Graceland I'm going to Graceland For reasons I cannot explain There's some part of me wants to see Graceland And I may be obliged to defend Every love, every ending Or maybe there's no obligations now Maybe I've got a reason to believe We all will be received In Graceland.
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Wandering properties of death Arresting moons within our eyes and smiles We did rest Amongst the granite tombs to catch our breath
Worldly sounds of endless warring Were for just a moment silent stars Worldly boundaries of dying Were for just a moment never ours All was new Just as the black horizons blue
Then along the bending path away I smiled in knowing I'd be back one day |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 9th, 2007|06:35 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | We Are the Champions//Queen | ] | I BEAT SAFEWAY DRIVING!!! |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 16th, 2007|06:43 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Penny on a Traintrack (live at ACL)//Ben Kweller | ] | Been listening to a lot of Paul Simon lately, both with Garfunkel and solo stuff. Man, he's a brilliant guy!
Started back on my photography sessions on Saturday and got some of my film processed, but no prints developed yet. I came in with three rolls and when I looked through the drying rack for my film, I could only find two rolls that I recognized at all! It's pretty weird! Anyways, I'm glad to say that one of those rolls was from my little toy Fisheye camera with only one aperture/shutter speed, and sense most of them were taken outside they turned out pretty well it seems. I really wanna see how the prints come out!! Anyways, there's this new advisor for the group, and he told this one girl and I about how those pictures of water splashes frozen in midair and bullets about to hit things are taken. There is no shutter speed physically fast enough to capture something as fast as a bullet so what they do is set up their equipment in a room that is completely light-tight, no cracks under the door or anything that will let light in, they turn off the lights and just have their camera open the shutter indefinitely (there's no light so the film isn't getting any exposure). So there they are in the dark with their camera's shutter completely open, and then (through setting up the flash in such a way that when it goes off so does the gun, or water drop or some other really fast object) they set off the flash, and since nothing is faster than the speed of light, the film is imprinted with that one still image of the split second of light reflecting off of the really fast bullet/whatever. I think that's fascinating!
And also I went to a Rob Landes concert! My mom asked me this morning if I wanted to go, so I decide why not! He's a very gifted jazz pianist, who in this concert, played a bunch of George Gershwin (an early 20th century composer who wrote songs mostly for Broadway, like Cole Porter) songs. His fingers moved with a precision which, even more bluntly to me since I'm attempting the piano right now, seems utterly unreachable. He was also a very nice man, very well worded, making jokes to the audience in between songs. Unfortunately I couldn't take any pictures of him =( But it was still worth it to go... since it was free and all. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 2nd, 2007|08:30 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Rock & Roll//Velvet Underground | ] | Jenny said that she was five years old there was nuthin' happenin' at all. Everytime she puts on that radio, she says there's nuthin' on at all. No, not at all. One fine mornin' she puts on a New York station and she don't believe what she heard at all. She started dancin' to that FINE FINE music, you know her life was saved by rock n' roll!
Post about the trip when the pictures are developed! |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 2nd, 2007|12:23 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | happy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Where Do They Make Balloons//They Might be Giants | ] | Marmalade's from Scoland, Rugs from Pakistan, Mexico has jumping beans, And cars are from Japan. Clowns are from the Circus, Barking comes from dogs. Eggs come from chickens, And log cabins come from logs, But where, where do they make balloons?
New York has tall buildings, New Jersey has its malls. Piza has a leaning tower; Will it ever fall? The ocean has some fishes, London has a tower. In Holand they have windmills, Lots of bikes and pretty flowers, But where, where do they make balloons?
Spaghetti comes from China But Italians make it best. Ants can make an anthill And monkeys make a mess. Hungary isn't hungry, French fries aren't from France. Turkeys aren't from Turkey, They can't fly but they can dance! But where, where do they make balloons?
What a cunundrum! |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 27th, 2007|11:48 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | creative | ] | If I ever become a musician, I want to make a concept album about Flowers for Algernon. That book is perfect for musical interperatation! I'm thinking about all the possibilities: the first song would be very, forgive me, lo-fi with a toy piano and a happy melody to go along with Charlie's initial innocence, and the music will get progressively more complex and more instruments will be added etc. |
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| So It Goes |
[Apr. 14th, 2007|08:16 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Hearing Aid//They Might be Giants | ] |

It's all in your hand now Mr. Vonnegut.
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 25th, 2007|11:06 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | jubilant | ] |
| [ | music |
| | I Wander As I Wander//The Choral Scholars | ] | Happy Birthday to my dog, Hobo, two days belated post :D

 THEY GROW UP SO FAAAAAAAAST
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 6th, 2007|01:05 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | accomplished | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Stove By a Whale//Ted Leo + Pharmacists | ] |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 11th, 2006|11:35 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | happy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | David Letterman Late Show Theme | ] |
When people don't get the parts they want in school plays and the 'winter' weather is in the mid-seventies, it's nice to know that there's at least some justice in the world:
I love my friends love :D |
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| It's not intended to be pretentious, really! |
[Dec. 7th, 2006|10:28 pm] |
I've been thinking in terms of relativity lately, as in when I was talking to Eric about how every way of viewing life is not completely correct or completely incorrect. To have your own personal view of life is to carve your little niche in existence, defining your humanity I guess. So if my view of life is just aknowledging every other view of life as truth, does that mean I'm denying myself humanity? For a long time I've believed that whatever you think happens when you die, happens (Christians go to Heaven or Hell, Jews go to Heaven's waiting room, Hindus are reincarnated until the reach the ultimate truth) but, in that respect, what happens to me, who sees all of them as truth? Do I experience reinhelleavenaitingroomination? Is there such a thing? Well I've thought of it so now there is. Maybe my embracing every idea is kind of running away from a reality where philosophy is futile, and there is no truth, just stuff and how people percieve stuff. Am I intelligent for asking these questions or am I just well-worded, and everyone has been through this just not as eloquently? But then revelations wouldn't make sense: why have a feeling of understanding if there's nothing to understand? If I give this to Mr. Brown will he have an answer? It won't be worth anything if he has an answer if what I believe is true since there are infinite perceptions of things and infinite truths, or will it be worth everything?
I kind of wanted to type something here relating to an actual event or something to balance out the abstract questions with something, but I can't really think of anything... OH, THE NEW ZELDA FOR GAMECUBE IS FINALLY COMING ON TUESDAY!!! |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 21st, 2006|11:48 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | cranky | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Myself//Kara's Flowers | ] | Six random facts about myself
1. I sing so louldly in the shower that my grandpa can hear me in the livingroom over the TV when he's watching the news. 2. The first horror movie I saw was I Know What You Did Last Summer. 3. My first scar is the result of a skateboarding accident. (uncoordinated 6 year old + skateboard + steep driveway = bloody face) 4. The only bone I've broken is my left wrist, which was fractured when I was roller blading outside of my dad's apartments. I told my sister to push me so I would go faster, and I ended up falling in a way that thrust all of my body mass on my wrist. 5. I've never had cancer. 6. I created my LiveJournal icon on paint. I put my Mission Hill DVD into my DVD-ROM drive, used screen capture, pasted the picture on paint, and then added the words. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 6th, 2006|01:00 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | good | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Packing Blankets//Eels | ] |
I came up with an idea for a short movie: there's this middle aged guy who owns a bank and who has spent his whole life working to be at the position he is now. Now that he's at the top he's just realized that his whole life has been leading up to just getting money and material possessions (his job as a bank owner is symbolic of this), and how horrible it is to have your life be tangible. He tries to talk to some of his fellow workers but they don't have any idea what he's talking about, so he gets kind of depressed. He wakes up one day and on an impulse, decides to buy a go-cart and he spends the whole day skipping work and riding up and down the streets, dodging in between cars on his go-cart. At the end of the day he realizes that this is what he's been missing. He starts doing thins like that more often, like kite flying, and walking on stilts, and rafting in the city bayou, and one day he meets some people on the street with a simalar sense of creative fun and they become friends. They start creating art-ish things (like a statue made out of tires or a giant sidewalk chalk drawing that glows in the dark) and I'm not too sure where it goes from there. It's kinda cliche I guess but I still want to make it!
I had another good idea the other day: to have some candy. Such ideas can cause one to become excited, as I did, and in my excitement I ran towards the living room (in which is housed candy). I was too distracted by my target to notice the small puddle a few feet from the threshold of the living room door, and thus slid a ways across the floor and then smashed my left foot against a wall. It hurt alot :o I think I jammed my index toe into its socket because I can't really bend it upwards without excrutiating pain. This makes it a bit hard to walk, as you may imagine, having the flexibility completely removed from one of your toes. Quite inconvenient.
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 26th, 2006|06:28 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | pleased | ] | My piano repertoire as of 6:29 PM, September 26, 2006 consists of Jingle Bells, the opening from Largo, Merrily we Go Along, When the Saints Go Marching In, Ode to Joy, Aura Lee, Rock-Along, the Mexican Hat Dance, Au Claire de la Lune, Tisket a Tasket, Rockin' Intervals, Good King Wenceslas, My Fifth, and Brother John. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 28th, 2006|12:04 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | sleepy | ] |
IIIIIIIIIIIIII'MMMMMMMMMMMM SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 10th, 2006|11:13 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | ecstatic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | We Are The Champions//Queen | ] | I GOT A ONEHUNDREDTWELVE ON MY HISTORY FINAL!!! I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO FAIL!!! BUT OBVIOUSLY I DIDN'T!!! |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 28th, 2006|04:41 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | pleased | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Birdhouse in Your Soul//They Might be Giants | ] | My street's fire hydrant sprung a leak and partially flooded the street :D.
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 28th, 2006|01:04 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | ecstatic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Orange Freezes//Real Lunch | ] | Out of all the lollipops in the store, Mr. Silberman chose the one made by possibly one of the only people I know of that thinks the "t" sound in Schwartz is implied (FAO Schwarz??)

Oh well, I am still extremely happy to finally have something from the store :D (hapiness exhibited below)

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