I've been searching for a simple place - don't know if it exists

I've been working on a night train
Drinking coffee, taking cocaine
I'm out here on a night train
Trying to get us safely home

Well in a little country station
Somewhere out in the midwest
I see the people out there waiting
Heart beating in my chest

And I'm thinking about a woman
Who I would put no one above
I'm not looking to replace her
Just need someone to love

Well I'm out here on my night train
Drinking coffee, taking cocaine
I'm out here on a night train
Trying to get us safely home

And I'm living in the city
Where the noise, it never stops
How much pounding on the pavement
Whizzes from traffic cops

Nobody looks you in the eye here
Walking around with clinched fists
I've been searching for a simple place
Don't know if it exists

There's a sunrise out there calling my name
I can see her moving, I can see her moving

Well at a certain time of night, now
I'll become one with the wind
Where there isn't a beginning
And there is no end

Oh when everything is flowing
Everything is on time
And I know that we're all going
To the end of the line

Well I'm out here on my night train
Drinking coffee, taking cocaine
I'm out here on a night train
Trying to get us safely home

Well I'm out here on my night train
Drinking coffee, taking cocaine
I'm out here on a night train
Trying to get us safely home
Trying to get us safely home
Trying to get us safely home

—Amos Lee, Night Train

Good words.

Need some new reading?



If the sample poem on his blog is an example of the rest of the book, pre-order it now.

Yes, please!

Alarm Clock Wakes You Up With Bacon

And just so you know . . .

I have bitten the inside of my lip repeatedly over the last 24 hours. It has now become impossible to not bite it when eating (read: devouring) something. Wah. Boo. Poo. It hurts like a mother.

(What does a mother hurt like, you ask? Your Mom.)

I'm a hero . . . and I still hate yours.

SCORPIO [October 23 – November 21] You've been on a hero's journey, Scorpio, ever since you first realized that your destiny is unlike anyone else's, and that you have specific tasks to master as you pursue the long-term dreams that are uniquely meaningful to you. But like the rest of us, you sometimes lose sight of the big picture for months at a time. You may even be fairly happy as you focus on the daily details without any thought of where you'll be years from now. If that's the rhythm you've been in lately—and I suspect it is—it's about to change. Your immersion in the next major phase of your hero's journey will soon begin. —Rob Brezsny, Village Voice

a poem

a girl with the sun of her youth
at her back
and the shadow of her womanhood
before her on the stones
is approaching with a delicate
clip clop clack
her sandals full of toes
that i suppose are headed home

it's early in the evening
and up and down the river
people begin to gather
pearls of laughter
on a strand
i thought solitude would save me
it was pious
it was grand
but the monk that walked beside me
just let go of my hand

—ani difranco / clip clop clack

Well, that just blows.

My favorite pair of flats have died.





Tis a sad, sad day. Let us all take a moment.









Private services to be held. In lieu of flowers, the family asks that donations be made to Muggins Shoe Drive, Inc.

Thank you.

Good Knight.

Penguin becomes a 'Sir'

I really wish I this had happened when I was at the Edinburgh zoo this summer . . . to meet Sir Nils Olav would have been a treat.

Home's anywhere you are too

Just beautiful . . .



Oh my son look at what I've done
But I am learning still
Learning still
Know that I am learning still
And oh my wife you are my life
And I am burning still
Burning still
Know that I am burning for you still

And all, all, all of my light is for you
And home, home's anywhere you are too
So take this one fallen man on his knees
Saying please forgive me

Oh my God how you make it hard
Not to pick the apple
Pick the apple
And Lord I long to give it back

And I was on shakey land
Lost and unsure I opened my hand
And she held it like sinking sand

And all, all, all of my light is for you
And home, home's anywhere you are too
So take this one fallen man on his knees
Saying please

All, all, all of my light is for you
And home, home's anywhere you are too
So take this one fallen man on his knees
Saying please forgive me
Forgive me
Forgive me

—Missy Higgins / Forgive Me

AAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAAAAAHAHAHA

AHAHAHHHHHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA

(phew . . . breathe)

HAHAHAHAHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA



Google StreetView Sees Man Passed Out Drunk On Mother's Lawn

fo sho.

So . . . I’ve been messing with my blog layout/design today. One would think that I would have some original action going on with this thing, being a “designery sort” and all . . . but no. That’s just too much work. And I’m rather lazy.

I still don’t like what’s going on here but I thought I’d go plain, plain, plain until I decide what to do with it/figure out which template I want to use. Not that I hated my old one . . . weird stuff just happened to it when I “upgraded” in blogspot. Or whatever . . .

None of this fucking matters. I’m just bored as hell.

Check back later for what is sure to be something spectacular.

(And every time I look at the song lyrics below, I want cheese on toast. Damn you, Miss. Nash.)

Dancing at discos, eating cheese on toast

Watching me like you never watch no one
Don't tell me that you didn't try and check out my bum
Cause I know that you did
Cause your friend told me that you liked it

Gave me those pearls and I thought they were ugly
Though you try to tell me that you never loved me
I know that you did
'Cause you said it and you wrote it down

Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy
But you obviously, you didn't want to stick around

Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy
But you obviously, you didn't want to stick around

So I learnt from you
Do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do
So I learnt form you
Do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do

I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone
I can watch a sunset on my own

I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone
I can watch a sunset on my own

Sitting in restaurants
Thought we were so grown up
But I know now that we were not the people
That we turned out to be

Chatting on the phone
Can't take back those hours
But I won't regret
'Cause you can grow flowers
From where dirt used to be

Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy
But you obviously, you didn't want to stick around

Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy
But you obviously, you didn't want to stick around

So I learnt from you
Do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do
So I learnt from you
Do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do

I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone
I can watch a sunset on my own
(do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do)

I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone
I can watch a sunset on my own
(do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do)

—Kate Nash, Merry Happy

And now it's too late for a soliloquy, it's way too late for dignity

Two great recordings . . .





Yesterday he said my eyes
Were fading fast away
I said well what do you expect
You asked me not to stay and if it had all been for the best
I wouldn't feel this way
And he said

Oh he said it's crazy
How love stays with me
You know it hurts me
Cause I don't wanna fight this war
It's amazing to see me reading through this scene
Of love and fear and apologies

My love is like a blanket
That gets a little bit too warm sometimes
I wanna wrap somebody in it
Who can hold me in his arms
Cause when it got a little too hot in there
He was always stepping out for air and he froze
Oh he froze

He said it's crazy
How love stays with me
You know it hurts me
Cause I don't wanna fight this war
It's amazing to see me reading through this scene
Of love and fear and apologies

Yesterday he looked at me
With a tear in his eye and said
I'll always tell you you're my friend
I hope I don't have to lie
Cause it's clear you love another man
I said you're damn right

And he said
He said it's crazy
How love stays with me
You know it hurts me
Cause I don't wanna fight this war
It's amazing to see me reading through this scene
Of love and fear and apologies
He said it's crazy
How love stays with me
You know it hurts me
That i didn't figure it out before
And now it's too late for a soliloquy
It's way too late for dignity
It's time for apologies

—Grace Potter & The Nocturnals / Apologies

I know it's not a huge deal but . . .

This makes me sad: Rolling Stone Shrinks Down to Standard Size

The Derek Zoolander Center For Kids Who Can't Read Good And Wanna Learn To Do Other Stuff Good Too

Great cause but . . .



How can we be expected to teach children to learn how to read if they can't even fit inside the building?



OK, so the guy is from the SPRING AWAKENING cast but still . . . dude needs to chop that shit off. And work on his Blue Steel.

I have to say it . . .

I'm not a Jack Johnson fan. He bores the hell out of me.

Perhaps Pandora isn't giving me the best selection?? I dunno . . . I'm not getting it. Thumbs No.

I will be your solid ground [very mucha]

I will be the answer
At the end of the line
I will be there for you
While you take the time
In the burning of uncertainty
I will be your solid ground
I will hold the balance
If you can't look down

If it takes my whole life
I won't break, I won't bend
It will all be worth it
Worth it in the end
Cause I can only tell you what I know
That I need you in my life
When the stars have all gone out
You'll still be burning so bright

Cast me gently
Into morning
For the night has been unkind
Take me to a
Place so holy
That I can wash this from my mind
The memory of choosing not to fight

If it takes my whole life
I won't break, I won't bend
It will all be worth it
Worth it in the end
'Cause I can only tell you what I know
That I need you in my life
When the stars have all burned out
You'll still be burning so bright

Cast me gently
Into morning
For the night has been unkind

—Sarah McLachlan, Answer

Little laugh.

Thank you, Guardian.

And I think I am just as torn inside

Thank you, Pandora. (My bank account hates you.)



I don't know what I've done
Or if I like what I've begun
But something told me to run
And honey you know me it's all or none
There were sounds in my head
Little voices whispering
That I should go and this should end
Oh and I found myself listening

Cause I don't know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
Cause she will love you more then I could
She who dares to stand where I stood

See I thought love was black and white
That it was wrong or it was right
But you aren't leaving without a fight
And I think I am just as torn inside

Cause I don't know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that i should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
Cause she will love you more then I could
She who dares to stand where I stood

And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call
You meant more to me then any one I've ever loved at all
But you taught me how to trust myself
And so I say to you, this is what I have to do.

Cause I don't know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
Cause she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
She who dares to stand where I stood.

—Missy Higgins / Where I Stood

And all I find are souvenirs from better times

Random day.



The glove compartment isn't accurately named
And everybody knows it.
So I'm proposing a swift orderly change.

Cause behind its door there's nothing to keep my fingers warm
And all I find are souvenirs from better times
Before the gleam of your taillights fading east
To find yourself a better life.

I was searching for some legal document
As the rain beat down on the hood
When I stumbled upon pictures I tried to forget
And that's how this idea was drilled into my head

Cause it's too important
To stay the way it's been

There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade
And now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all
And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide
Lying awake at night

There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade
And now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all
And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide
Lying awake at night (up all night)
When I'm lying awake at night.

—Death Cab For Cutie / Title and Registration

We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year.

Um, weird "video" but whatever . . .



So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

And did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

—Pink Floyd / Wish You Were Here

The unbelievable kindness of strangers.

I read this article this morning because the title caught me:

In harm's way: The tragedy of Rakan Hassan and the impossibility of a Hippocratic Oath for journalists

So I then read this:

Part one: Rakan’s war

Part two: As healing begins, a painful decision

Part three: Restless patient, agonizing choice

Part four: At homecoming, a gift elicits wonder

And . . . The end of Rakan’s war

I am close to tears (read: in tears). PLEASE read all of this when you have a chance.

Also, Kevin Cullen is an amazing writer . . . man.

Well, that was quick.

Norway beats US in opening game

But, apparently, Norway takes soccer quite seriously: Soccer mom berserk

Simple. Perfect.

Baby I want you
Baby I want you
Baby I do

Darling I love you
Darling I love you
Know that it's true

Don't leave me here
out on my own
Don't you know how I
hate to be alone
I just want to be a
part of your home

Baby I want you
Baby I want you
Baby I do

Darling I love you
Darling I love you
Know that it's true

Don't leave me here
out in the cold
Don't you know that
it's your hand I
want to hold
As these days fly
past and unfold

Hey hey hey hey

Baby I want you
Baby I want you
Baby I do

Darling I love you
Darling I love you
Know that it's true

—Amos Lee, Baby I Want You

When do you get home?

I miss my BBBBFFFFFFFFFFF.

YesireeRob

SCORPIO [October 23–November 21] Don't just shamble down to the pizzeria and gobble a slab of greasy cheese, tomato sauce, and dough. Instead, arrange for someone to home-deliver a pizza lovingly prepared by a gourmet chef. For that matter, Scorpio, don't tolerate mediocrity in any area of your life. The Season of the Peak Experience is here—a time when you have a sacred duty to give your best, commune with the highest, and ask for excellence. —Rob Brezsny, Village Voice

I've been dreaming of you darling, in case you'd like to know...

Well you call again,
as if I don't know what you're going to say...
So let it ring,
I can count the cracks in the ceiling all day long.

I guess the birds they just went south,
but I've got no where to go,
it's 31 and falling,
I've been dreaming of you darling,
in case you'd like to know...

God damn my wasted time,
ringing all the bells.

If I could hold my tongue,
just long enough to get me through the door
then you won't know...
rewind the tape while your back is turned,
fold my arms and pull the curtains closed,
bury the roses in the backyard
and darlin' never mind what I might have said, before, before,

God damn my wasted time,
ringing all the bells...
I've got half a mind to lie to you
half a mind to tell you everything I have to tell, to tell, to tell.

I've been wasting my time I know I know better,
and I'm tired of waxing sentimental,
I'm tired of saying please, please,
tired of waiting,
I'm tired of waiting.

You call again,
as if I don't know what you're going to say...

—Chris Pureka, 31 and Falling

Loudly we contort our exchanges

The thing is, how friggin' cool and talented is my sister?

Best Poem

Naked

As the open eye, these windows are
without curtain or shade. When night dilates
and the irises close sliver-thin

around their stamens, light spills out
from within. We burn the bulbs
inside the lamps, meter spinning

a frantic carousel in its pan,
and the street outside becomes audience
to our show of limbs.

Loudly we contort our exchanges
and large expressions, because
we know what’s expected

in the performance. It’s made us
different, to believe
someone’s always watching.

We are less you and me; more them,
shadow actors moving
and speaking when directed.

Still, there are moments
when our old selves appear
and the absence of curtains or shades

proves less significant
than being here, quiet
and a breath apart, barely touching.

—Sarah Kain Gutowski

I want you between me and the feeling I get when I miss you

I want you between me and the feeling I get when I miss you
But everything here is telling me I should be fine
So why is it so, above as below,
That I'm missing you every time

I got used to you whispering things to me into the evening
We followed the sun and its colours and left this world
It seems to me that I'm definitely
Hearing the best that I've heard

So throw me a rope to hold me in place
Show me a clock for counting my days down
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Cause I feel alone

And whenever you go it's like holding my breath underwater
I have to admit that I kind of like it when I do
Oh but I've got to be unconditionally
Unafraid of my days without you

So throw me a rope to hold me in place
Show me a clock for counting my days down
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Whenever I'm falling you're always behind me
Come back and find me
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Cause I feel alone

—KT Tunstall, Throw Me A Rope

Would be funnier if it wasn't so true.

Want to see . . .

I read about this movie on the bus this morning. So I looked up the trailer. And NOW I want to see it. See how that works?



But do I read the book first? Decisions decisions . . .

Goooooood morning.

Some people are just so effing talented.

I have spent the last hour looking thru all of Julia Nune's stuff on youtube: jaaaaaaa's channel

She's awesome. Very talented. Very funny. Very worth all the good stuff happening to her.

I'm actually thinking about going to see her at the Knitting Factory this weekend. Anyone? Anyone? Hahlao?

Well, that's something.

Lauren, you're on the list. And THANK YOU for the following:

Dude, fascinating what peeps can do on youtube, eh? . . .





. . . there are just so many more.

Fascinating.

Plant me in the garden, don't you let me roam.

I'm a ship, I'm a ship, I'm a ship
Out on the sea
None of my love
Floating wild come back to me
So I write you a letter, I'll write you a letter
With this here pen
Don't make me wait, don't make me wait
Cos I'm your friend

I'm in love with the garden
That is down the street
And the earth is a warm thing under my feet
And the earth is a warm thing under my feet

Oh long streams of light
Lift me, from this dirty town
Cuz I'm losing stain, soak me yeah with rain, rain, rain, rain

I'm a ship, I'm a ship, I'm a ship
Out on the sea
And all these clouds flying by so fast
Well they confuse me
And the long leaves in the tall trees
Pale in the sunshine
And I was twistin' and turnin'
In the cool sheets past bed time

Plant me in the garden
Don't you let me roam
Cuz love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Plant me in the garden
Don't you let me roam
Cuz love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Plant me in the garden
Don't you let me roam
Cuz love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Love is a feeling like a warm dark stone
Love is a feeling like a warm dark stone

—The Be Good Tanyas, Ship Out On The Sea

Just so you know,

I am not a morning person.

I wish I could be this relaxed all the time.

Sometimes I feel I know strangers better than I know my friends

(This is always coming up on my Pandora station . . . tis a lovely song. Sad, but lovely.)

I could have treated you better
But you couldn't have treated me worse
But it's he who laughs last
Is he who cries first

Sometimes I feel I know strangers
Better than I know my friends
Why must a beginning
Be the means to an end

The stones from my enemies
These wounds will mend
But I cannot survive
The roses from my friends

When the last word has been spoken
And we've bared witness to the final setting sun
All that shall remain is a token
Of what we've said and done

When all we've had has been forsaken
Distant church bells no longer ring
Thats the sound of a heart taken
And the story of tears from a king

The stones from my enemies
These wounds will mend
But I cannot survive
The roses from my friends

This may be the last time I see you
Forgive me for holding you close
This may be the last time that I see you
So of this moment I will make the most

This may be the last time I see you
But if you keep me in your heart
Together we shall be eternal
If you believe
We shall never part

The stones from my enemies
These wounds will mend
But I cannot survive
The roses from my friends

—Lenny Kravitz / Roses From My Friends

Perfect combo.

Two videos of Chris Pureka covering one of my favorite songs, Wagon Wheel.






She's at Highline Ballroom on July 16, supporting Jay Brannan. Think I might just go and support her . . . and ask why she isn't headlining her own show. T'would be more than worth it, is all I'm saying.

You can hear the angels fallin'

(Crazy pixelated but good sound.)



Good good good:



Like there was any doubt . . .

No eyeball! He's much bigger than you!

My eye hurts. And I paid a doctor $10 to tell me that I have a non-specific inflammation of the eye. Which isn’t very specific. I’m to drop a steroid liquid into my eye every two hours.

It follows that my eyeball is going to start picking fights and taking names in a day or so. Watch out.

I'm going to need three of those little blue ones.

So, I just spent the last half-hour looking over old posts in this here blog. I've come to a very clear conclusion about myself.

I'M A FUCKING LUNATIC.

Sweet Jesus. Sweet. Jebus.

Seriously . . .

Go get the new Coldplay album. I could paint my little pictures (per Sarah) all day to this shit.

Tonight! Concert! Yay!

He best be singing this tonight or so help me . . .

Tis so simple and lovely.



You know it ain't easy
For these thoughts here to leave me
There's no words to describe it
In French or in English
Well, diamonds they fade
And flowers they bloom
And I'm telling you
These feelings won't go away
They've been knockin' me sideways
They've been knockin' me out lately
Whenever you come around me
These feelings won't go away
They've been knockin' me sideways
I keep thinking in a moment that
Time will take them away
But these feelings won't go away

—Citizen Cope, Sideways

Just to set the record straight.

You know what I love? Cherries.
You know what I don’t love? Work.

I really have to start blogging more. I have a feeling I help people.

My favorite on the album thus far.

Just because I'm losing
Doesn't mean I'm lost
Doesn't mean I'll stop
Doesn't mean I will cross

Just because I'm hurting
Doesn't mean I'm hurt
Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserve
No better and no worse

I just got lost
Every river that I've tried to cross
And every door I ever tried was locked
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off...

You might be a big fish
In a little pond
Doesn't mean you've won
'Cause along may come
A bigger one
And you'll be lost

Every river that you tried to cross
Every gun you ever held went off
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the firing starts
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off
Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off . . .

—Coldplay / Lost!

When the future's architectured by a carnival of idiots on show, you'd better lie low

Really digging the new Coldplay album.



Was a long and dark December
From the rooftops I remember
There was snow
White snow

Clearly I remember
From the windows they were watching
While we froze
Down below

When the future's architectured
By a carnival of idiots on show
You'd better lie low

If you love me
Won't you let me know?

Was a long and dark December
When the banks became cathedrals
And the fog
Became God

Priests clutched onto bibles
Hollowed out to fit their rifles
And the cross was held aloft

Bury me in honor
When I'm dead and hit the ground
A love back home unfolds

If you love me
Won't you let me know?

I don't want to be a soldier
Who the captain of some sinking ship
Would stow, far below

So if you love me
Why'd you let me go?

I took my love down to Violet Hill
There we sat in snow
All that time she was silent still

So if you love me
Won't you let me know?

If you love me,
Won't you let me know?

—Coldplay / Violet Hill

A favorite.

I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
till the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love
Can the child within my heart rise above
Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life

Well, Ive been afraid of changing
cause Ive built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
Im getting older too

Oh, take my love, take it down
Climb a mountain and turn around
If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well the landslide will bring it down

If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well maybe the landslide will bring it down

—Fleetwood Mac, Landslide

Rain it on down

I never made time
You never made much sense
We never stood a chance
If we're honest

You were not the first
And I won't be the last
But if it makes it better
Well you can call me what you will

Get Home late
No-one's here
Pace around the house
And sit in my chair

And if you think of me
It doesn't mean a thing
So why don't you just tell me what you really think again?

I don't care what you call me
Oh I
I don't care what you call me
No I
I don't care what you call me
'Cos it won't hurt any more

I know I let you down
And Christ you let me know
Every time and time again

Just another afternoon
Get drunk and disappear
So call me what you will

Rain it on down
What else can you throw at me?
I haven't heard before

And tear me on down
I am unforgivable
So why don't you just tell me what you really think again

I don't care what you call me
Oh I
I don't care what you call me
Oh I
I don't care what you call me
'Cos it won't hurt any more

Rain it on down
What else can you throw at me?
I haven't heard before

And tear me on down
I am unforgivable
So why don't you just tell me what you really think again

Scream me on down
I am so forgettable
Yes I know

Shoot me on down
Don't you think this isn't killing me
So why don't you just tell me what you really think again

I don't care what you call me
Oh I
I don't care what you call me
No I
I don't care what you call me
'Cos it won't hurt any more

—David Ford / I Don't Care What You Call Me

Off limits.

Oh, for fuck's sake. I'm all for live blogging but . . . but . . . at a funeral?? Come. On.

Live-Blogging Russert Memorial

Here comes the clout.

SCORPIO [October 23–November 21]: Now that we're at the halfway mark, Scorpio, one of the most important things I hope you're doing is increasing your effectiveness as a communicator. What do I mean by that? While it's true that you gather information more skillfully than any other sign, you aren't necessarily as blessed when it comes to sharing information. In part, that's because you believe that keeping secrets enhances your personal power. And, in part, it's because you sometimes forget that other people aren't as clued in to what's happening below the surface as you are. Your mandate in the coming months is to overcome those challenges as you learn to express yourself with ever greater candor, clarity, and clout.
—Rob Brezsny, Village Voice

I'm still married to it all

Take everything that we've had
Take it and burn it to the ground
Some things were never meant to last
Take it down down down
Take it down

I'm still married to it all
That ain't no place to hand around
My love is fifty feet tall
Take it down down down
Take it down

And I've grown accustomed to the way
You hurled us into space
I'll never make that trip
Tears all rusted on my face
I'm just an empty place
Where your love used to fit

South Carolina, where are you?
You were once lost, now are found
The war is over, the battle's through
Take it down down down
Take it down

Take it down down down
Take it down

—Wailin' Jennys / Take it Down

You better ask somebody on how we flip the script -- Come to a Tribe show and watch the three kids rip

Hip-Hop at its finest.



Linden Boulevard represent, represent
Tribe Called Quest represent, represent
When the mic is in my hand, I'm never hesitant
My favorite jam back in the day was Eric B. for President

Rude boy composer
Step to me you're over
Brothers wanna flex
You're not Mad Cobra
MC short and black
There ain't no other
Trini-born black like Mia Longs grandmother
Tip and Sha they all that, Phife-Dawg ditto
Honey tell your man to chill, or else you'll be a widow
Did not you know that my styles are top-dollar?
The Five-Foot Assassin knockin' fleas off his collar
Hip-hop scholar since bein' knee-high to a duck
The height of Mugsy Bogues, complexion of a hockey puck
You better ask somebody on how we flip the script
Come to a Tribe show and watch the three kids rip

Queens is in the house represent, represent
A Tribe Called Quest represent, represent
No tamin' of the style cuz it gets irreverent
A Tribe Called Quest represent, represent

Huh-huh, here we go
You know that I'm the rebel
Throwin' out the wicked like God did the Devil
Funky like your grandpas drawers, don't test me
We in like that, you're dead like Presley
When we comin' through get tickets to see me
We work for the paper so there'll never be a preemie
Lyrics are abundant cuz we got it by the mass
Egos are all idle cuz the music is the task
Valenzuela on the pitch, curveball, catch it
I think I got it locked, just smooth while I latch it
Right
Now I must move with the quickness
Here comes Shaheed so we must bear the witness

Stir It Up
Stir It Up
Stir It Up
Steve Biko

Stir It Up
Stir It Up
Stir It Up
Steve Biko

New York City represent, represent
A Tribe Called Quest represent, represent
The Dawg is scientific with the styles I invent
A Tribe Called Quest represent, represent

MCs like to meddle, but here's my proposition
I let my lyrics flow, and jumped your whole position
I'm radical with this like the man this song is after
Yo Tip settle down, what's the reason for the laughter?

I really can't say, I guess I laugh to keep from cryin'
So much goin' on, people killin', people dyin'
But I won't dwell on that, I think I'll elevate my mental
Thanks for these bars on the Biko instrumental

Yo I take it back, I'm the Indian giver
MCs take notes as I stand and deliver
Percussion isn't less, D's wear the vest
While they dodgin' bullets, you should be dodgin' Quest
Don't get me wrong, violence is not our forte
I just like to rhyme, kick the lyric skills like Pele
Tip educate 'em, my rhymes are strictly taboo
Fill em with some fantasies and I'll look out like Tattoo

Okay
I am recognizing that the voice inside my head
is urging me to be myself but never follow someone else
Because opinions are like voices
we all have a different kind
So just clean out all of your ears
these are my views and you will find that
we revolutionize over the kick and the snare
The ghetto vocalist is on a state-wide tear
Soon to be the continent and then the freakin' globe
There's room for it all as we mingle at the ball
We welcome competition cuz it doesn't make one lazy or worn
We gotta work hard, you know the damn card
Try to be the fattest is the level that we strive
Try to be the fattest also to stay alive

—A Tribe Called Quest / Steve Biko (Stir It Up)

Procrastination Tool #46758

Because I needed something else to help me NOT get my work done: TYPERACER

(I'm not sure that made sense.)

TYPERACER = Amazing. Love it.

And here's the deal about me.

I feel for her: Exposed. Kinda.

So, wait, writing about your personal life online can have a negative affect on your life? I've never heard of this happening before. Perhaps not starting one blog after another, revealing personal information about yourself and your relationships? Just a thought . . .

I know, write a New York Times Magazine article about how negative it all is. It'll help. It'll turn the tide. Really.

(Gawker commentators are already having a fucking field day . . . losers.)

It could be more if she learned to never expect

She was the girl with the string around her neck,
With the boy who could only give her less.
It could be more if she learned to never expect,
And now she's her and him and then a baby next.

The wedding bells won't ring, but she couldn't care less,
You exist, when you're living in a dream world.

He grew up drinking milk from the cow, from the farm.
He was the traitor's father's father's father.
His father made him go give back to his country.
He gave his both knees, his overseas to fight the disease.

It's spreading fast over maps and it don't look back,
When you're living in a dream world.

It is a lion's science fiction wings,
Just like a jolly dizzy for zero, one, three times
The size of the people that came before.

Me and you and what we'd do for money.
This greed and jealousy turn to need.
See, I'm a man with a plan to use my hands.
I'm touching yours, you're the girl who wanted more.
Now baby, the story has faded from love to lie.

The clover under your feet is shooting stars in the night.
The people under your feet are shooting stars in the night.
The people, all that you meet, they're living in a dream world.

—Rilo Kiley, Dreamworld

Shitty video capture but the performance is good:

God BLESS you!

You spend half your life trying to turn the other half around

Copper on the corner and he loaded two rounds
And I can't even get inside to talk you down
Peter, sweet baby, where'd you get that gun?
You spend half your life trying to turn the other half around

And I tried to come clean, but I guess it's no use
Your face is all over six o'clock news
They cleared the street and then they closed the schools
I can't even get inside

Did you lose your head when the farm went down?
Was is when your daddy died after he moved to town
And I know your momma calls you good for nothing
She says her baby is a failer and she don't want you calling

Peter, sweet baby, there's something I need to say to you
Gonna have your baby this coming June
We could get a little place down by Gilmour park
You could do a little time and save my broken heart

And I tried to come clean, but I guess it's no use
Copper when ahead and he just shot you through
Now you're lying dead on the avenue
And I can't feel my broken heart

—Kathleen Edwards / Six O'Clock News

You will shelter me, my love. And I will shelter you.

I guess you don't need it
I guess you don't want me to repeat it
But everything I have to give I'll give to you
It's not like we planned it
You tried to stay, but you could not stand it
To see me shut down slow
as though it was an easy thing to do
Listen when
All of this around us'll fall over
I tell you what we're gonna do
You will shelter me my love
And I will shelter you
I will shelter you
I left you heartbroken, but not until those very words were spoken
Has anybody ever made such a fool out of you
It's hard to believe it
Even as my eyes do see it
The very things that make you live are killing you
Listen when all of this around us'll fall over
I tell you what we're gonna do
You will shelter me my love
I will shelter you
Listen when
All of this around us'll fall over
I tell you what we're gonna do
Hey you will shelter me my love
I will shelter you
If you shelter me too
I will shelter you
I will shelter you

—Ray Lamontagne / Shelter

(Good God, this is a beautiful song. And a REALLY great version, no?(

Also excellent:

When you came to me with your bad dreams and your fears
It was easy to see that you'd been crying
Seems like everywhere you turn catastrophe it reigns
But who really profits from the dying
I could hold you in my arms
I could hold you forever
I could hold you in my arms
I could hold you in my arms forever

When you kissed my lips with my mouth so full of questions
It's my worried mind that you quiet
Place your hands on my face
Close my eyes and say
Love is a poor man's food
Don't prophesize
I could hold you in my arms
I could hold you forever
And I could hold you in my arms
I could hold you forever

So now we see how it is
This fist begets the spear
Weapons of war
Symptoms of madness
Don't let your eyes refuse to see
Don't let your ears refuse to hear
Or you ain't never going to shake this sense of sadness
I could hold you in my arms
I could hold on forever
And I could hold you in my arms
I could hold forever

—Ray Lamontagne / Hold You In My Arms

I'm not depressed.

. . . just in case that's what you were thinking after that last song posting. I just really, really don't want to go to the gym.

But I must because I'm starting to think the reps I've been doing with my wine glass aren't enough.

she will betray All that she loves

In the Lush Virginia hills
they kept her as long as they could
Cause they knew when the white brother found
white shell Beads wrapped around her
skin - a life giving river - Her body open
as will his hand
And with a "goodbye" there she goes

she may Betray
All that she loves
and even wait for
their Savior to come
And in some things,
maybe he'll be right
But as always
The thing that he Loves
he will change from her
sunwise to clockwise
to soul trading
still she'll lay down her Body
covering him all the same

so Hundreds of years go by
(the Red Road carved up by Sharp Knife)
She's a girl out working her Trade
and she loses a little each day
to ghetto pimps and presidents
who try and arouse her turquoise serpents
She can't recall what they represent
and when you ask, she won't know

she will Betray
All that she loves
and even wait for
their Savior to come
And in some things,
maybe he'll be right
But as always
The thing that he Loves
he will change from her
sunwise to clockwise
to soul trading
still she'll lay down her Body
covering him all the same

oh Virginia do you remember
when the Land held your hand
oh Virginia she will let you back in
oh Virginia you can't remember your name

—Tori Amos / Virginia

Eventually you just let the stone fall

Run away to the seashore.
It doesn't matter anymore
Doesn't matter anymore...
Words dry up and fly away
With the passing of the days
Eventually you just let the stone fall

I dreamed that I saw you
You were down at the corner store
You were looking through magazines
And you flew out the door
I was trying to wave to you but you wouldn't wave back
Now you know I understand you're with me only in the past.
Only in the past.
Only in the past.
Only in the past.

My palms are not open. They're closed, they're closed.
My palms are not open. They're closed, they're closed.

I dreamed that I saw you
You were down at the corner store
You were looking through magazines
And you flew out the door
I was trying to wave to you but you wouldn't wave back
Now you know I understand you're with me only in the past.
Only in the past.
Only in the past.
Only in the past.

Colours streak the sky.
We laugh and we cry
And we dance in the cool grass
With the fireflies
And we dance in the cool grass...sunset...
Birds sweet sweet music
Swallow our words.
You set sail and you left this town
Run away, run away.
You're so far,
So far from me now.
So far from me now.

I dreamed that I saw you
You were down at the corner store
You were looking through magazines
And you flew out the door
I was trying to wave to you but you wouldn't wave back
Now you know I understand you're with me only in the past.
Only in the past.
Only in the past.
Only in the past.

—Be Good Tanyas / Only in the Past

Wow, that blows.

Woman Arrested After 32 Years on Lam

foods, note.

I really need to start using Fresh Direct again. Their ice cream is $3.00 cheaper than at the grocery stores around me!

Amazing.

(Yes, this was a necessary mention.)

foods.

The fuckers at Edy’s have reduced the size of their ice cream containers. They’re now selling a 1.5 quart at a 1.75 quart price. What. The. Fuck?

Bastards.

Also, I think I have a peanut butter addiction. This is in addition to the existing ice cream, diet coke, and cheese addictions.

Good morning everyone!

Cause there ain't nobody who needs nobody

CMT Unplugged / Lori McKenna, Your Next Lover

So beautiful and sad.

Well, she lives a few doors down
Says she wants you to take her out
Have some coffee somewhere - just some coffee
You saw her out in the parking lot
And any plans you had you can break so wash your face - let yourself go

Everybody is a sinner
Everybody makes mistakes
And there ain't nobody - who needs nobody
Don't forget to look her in the eye
Laugh and show your smile
There's not much more to lonely than being less lonely

I stood and watched (all) the stars fade right there - from your eyes
Baby, I think I know just what your next lover will be like

You hate cigarettes so she won't smoke
But she don't mind this bar you're in
She sits right up there on that stool - puts her pocketbook down and smiles at you
You think she's about five foot three
That makes her taller than me
But you're not thinking about that now, no -it ain't right to think about that now

I stood and watched (all) the stars fade right there - from your eyes
Baby, I think I know just what your next lover will be like

And I hope she can fix you
I hope she's someone who will never let you down
I hope she reminds you nothing of me and - as crazy as crazy as it sounds I hope she's beautiful

I stood and watched (all) the stars fade right there - from your eyes
Baby, I think I know just what your next lover will be like

Cause there ain't nobody who needs nobody
There ain't nobody who needs nobody

—Lori McKenna / Your Next Lover

My, how time travels.

Since getting to work (an hour late), I have:

1. Checked out all the blogs (see list on right).
2. Checked my personal email (every 5 minutes).
3. Looked for and bought my Godmother's birthday gift (shipping from India to Scotland is a bit of a financial bitch, FYI).
4. Fucked up my blog, while updating my links, and had to reformat the damn thing. **shakes fist at blogger**
5. Jumped into email-chain with two lovely friends.
6. Followed through on two work-related email requests.
7. Solidified lunch plans -- eating outside, as it's gorgeous.
8. Written this UNBELIEVABLY ENTERTAINING blog post.

I might just be the busiest person in the world. That's right . . . the world.

we generate our own light to compensate for the lack of light from above.

growing up, it was just me and my mom against the world.
and all my sympathies were with her when i was a little girl
and i've seen both my parents play out the hands that they were dealt
as each year goes by, i know more about how my father must have felt.

i just want you to understand that i know what all the fighting
was for, and i just want you to understand that i'm not angry anymore.
no, i'm not angry anymore.

she taught me how to wage cold war with quiet charm
but i just want to walk through my life unarmed.
to accept, and just get by like my father learned to do,
but without all the acceptance of getting by that got my father through

i just want you to understand that i know what all the fighting was for
and i just want you to understand that i'm not angry anymore.
no, i'm not angry anymore.

night falls like people into love
we generate our own light to compensate
for the lack of light from above.
every time we fight a cold wind blows our way,
we can learn like the trees, how to bend,
how to sway and say

i, i think i understand
what all this fighting is for,
and i just want you to understand
i'm not angry anymore.
no, i'm not angry anymore.

—ani difranco / angry anymore


I actually used the quite lovely banjo intro to this song in a multimedia presentation I gave in college . . . on HVAC systems. That's right. I might just be the coolest person ever. Well-rounded, too. Totally well-rounded. And I'm not just talking about my caboose! . . . da da ching!

Look, it's the end of the day, I'm tired . . . I'm hungry . . . I have no excuse.

How could I ever believe 10,000 stones would save the fool in me

My days are filled with mistakes
Some that I didn't make
I carry them around
Some people don't feel a thing
Some kind of blissful dream
Wish I could live that now
oh I wish I could live that now

10,000 stones are hanging
deep in my heart
no I don't know how they
don't tear me apart
how could I ever believe
10,000 stones would build
the best of me.

I've seen a lot in my life
I've seen two wrongs make a right
When everything was crashing
I know that you got your plans
You're always taking your stand
But I was only asking
I was never asking for

10,000 stones are hanging
deep in my heart
no I don't know how they
don't tear me apart
how could I ever believe
10,000 stones would build
the best of me.

Who knows what you think of me now
knowing sooner or later
the truth would come out
but I don't want to look back
don't want to look back to

10,000 stones hanging deep in my heart
no I don't know how they don't tear me apart
how could I ever believe
10,000 stones would save the fool in me
10,000 stones would be a strange blessing
10,000 stones would build the best of me

—Adrianne / 10,000 Stones

Um, Cris . . . Ben again. Benjamin. I'm skeered.

Sweet Jesus, this looks terrifying.

I've gathered these pages of words left unspoken

Oh, there you are,
it's so good to see you,
it's so good to see you,
standing right at my door,
I wish you could stay.

Well, how's your girlfriend?
How's that going?
She never liked me,
oh I wish you could stay.

It might be an ordinary day,
but it seems like more than that to me...

Lines of my forehead,
from trying to thread the needle of this idea,
without letting you know it.

If you said I could
I'd throw the maps right out the window,
take the longest way home.

So I change the subject
and I put on my best smile,
so you won't notice,
so you won't notice what's wrong.

So don't you ask me,
no please don't ask me,
'cause I don't dare tell you,
exactly what's on my mind.

It might be an ordinary day,
but it seems like more than that to me...

I've gathered these pages
of words left unspoken,
letters I didn't send you
would fall right from my fingers.

If you said I could
put my hands where I want to,
set fire to the bedroom.

If you said I could
put it all out on the table,
throw the maps right out the window...

Oh there you are,
it's so good to see you,
it's so good to see you,
I wish you could stay.

—Chris Pureka, These Pages

Cristina! Benjamin!! It's BENJAAAAMMIIIIINNNNN!

Willem Dafoe AND Scott Speedman?? I think my heart just stopped.

Must. Go. See.

I put our snowflake under a microscope

Strange
Thought I knew you well
Thought I had read the sky
Thought I had read a change
in your eyes
so strange
Woke up to a world
that I am not a part
except when I can play
its stranger

After all
what were you really
looking for
and I wonder
when will I learn
Blue isn't red
everybody knows this
and I wonder
when will I learn
when will I learn
guess I was in Deeper than
I thought I was
if I have enough love
for the both of us

"just stay" you say
"we'll build a nest"
so I left my Life
Tried on your friends
Tried on your opinions
So when the Bridges froze
and you did not come home
I put our snowflake under a microscope

After all
what was I really
looking for
and I wonder
when will I learn
Maybe my wish knew better
than I did
and I wonder
when will I learn
when will I learn
guess I was in Deeper than
I thought I was
if I have enough love
for the both of us

so strange
now I'm finally in
the Party has begun
it's not like I can't
feel you still
but strange
what I will leave behind
you call me one more time
but now I must be leaving

—Tori Amos / Strange


I love this song. It's so clear.

Because there is nothing any sadder than losing yourself in love.

Leaves were falling, just like embers,
In colors red and gold, they set us on fire
Burning just like moonbeams in our eyes.

Somebody said they saw me, swinging the world by the tail
Bouncing over a white cloud, killing the blues.

Now I'm guilty of something...
I hope you never do
Because there is nothing
Any sadder than losing yourself in love.

Somebody said they saw me, swinging the world by the tail
Bouncing over a white cloud, killing the blues.

And then you've ask me... just to leave you
To set out on my own
And get what I needed.
You want me to find what I've already had.

Somebody said they saw me, swinging the world by the tail
Bouncing over a white cloud, killing the blues.

Somebody said they saw me, swinging the world by the tail
Bouncing over a white cloud, killing the blues.

—Rowland Salley, Killing the Blues


FYI: Robert Plant and Alison Krauss do a lovely cover of this song on the Raising Sand album.

This. Would. Blow.

Excerpt from New Yorker piece:
UP AND THEN DOWN: The lives of elevators.
by Nick Paumgarten

The longest smoke break of Nicholas White’s life began at around eleven o’clock on a Friday night in October, 1999. White, a thirty-four-year-old production manager at Business Week, working late on a special supplement, had just watched the Braves beat the Mets on a television in the office pantry. Now he wanted a cigarette. He told a colleague he’d be right back and, leaving behind his jacket, headed downstairs.

The magazine’s offices were on the forty-third floor of the McGraw-Hill Building, an unadorned tower added to Rockefeller Center in 1972. When White finished his cigarette, he returned to the lobby and, waved along by a janitor buffing the terrazzo floors, got into Car No. 30 and pressed the button marked 43. The car accelerated. It was an express elevator, with no stops below the thirty-ninth floor, and the building was deserted. But after a moment White felt a jolt. The lights went out and immediately flashed on again. And then the elevator stopped.

The control panel made a beep, and White waited a moment, expecting a voice to offer information or instructions. None came. He pressed the intercom button, but there was no response. He hit it again, and then began pacing around the elevator. After a time, he pressed the emergency button, setting off an alarm bell, mounted on the roof of the elevator car, but he could tell that its range was limited. Still, he rang it a few more times and eventually pulled the button out, so that the alarm was continuous. Some time passed, although he was not sure how much, because he had no watch or cell phone. He occupied himself with thoughts of remaining calm and decided that he’d better not do anything drastic, because, whatever the malfunction, he thought it unwise to jostle the car, and because he wanted to be (as he thought, chuckling to himself) a model trapped employee. He hoped, once someone came to get him, to appear calm and collected. He did not want to be scolded for endangering himself or harming company property. Nor did he want to be caught smoking, should the doors suddenly open, so he didn’t touch his cigarettes. He still had three, plus two Rolaids, which he worried might dehydrate him, so he left them alone. As the emergency bell rang and rang, he began to fear that it might somehow—electricity? friction? heat?—start a fire. Recently, there had been a small fire in the building, rendering the elevators unusable. The Business Week staff had walked down forty-three stories. He also began hearing unlikely oscillations in the ringing: aural hallucinations. Before long, he began to contemplate death.


Nicholas White opened the doors to urinate. As he did so, he hoped, in vain, that a trace of this violation might get the attention of someone in the lobby. He considered lighting matches and dropping them down the shaft, to attract notice, but still had the presence of mind to suspect that this might not be wise. The alarm bell kept ringing. He paced and waved at the overhead camera. He couldn’t tell whether it was night or day. To pass the time, he opened his wallet and compared an old twenty-dollar bill with a new one, and read the fine print on the back of a pair of tickets to a Jets game on Sunday afternoon, which he would never get to use. He imagined himself as Steve McQueen in “The Great Escape,” throwing the baseball against the wall.

Eventually, he lay down on the floor, intent on sleep. The carpet was like coarse AstroTurf, and was lousy with nail trimmings and other detritus. It was amazing to him how much people could shed in such a short trip. He used his shoes for a pillow and laid his wallet, unfolded, over his eyes to keep out the light. It wasn’t hot, yet he was sweating. His wallet was damp. Maybe a day had passed. He drifted in and out of sleep, awakening each time to the grim recognition that his elevator confinement had not been a dream. His thirst was overpowering. The alarm was playing more aural tricks on him, so he decided to turn it off. Then he tried doing some Morse code with it. He yelled some more. He tried to pick away at the cinder-block wall.

At a certain point, he decided to go for the escape hatch in the ceiling. He thought of Bruce Willis in “Die Hard,” climbing up and down the shaft. He knew it was a dangerous and desperate thing to do, but he didn’t care. He had to get out of the elevator. The height of the handrail in the car made it hard for him to get a leg up. It took him a while to figure out and then execute the maneuver that would allow him to spring up to the escape hatch. Finally, he swung himself up. The hatch was locked.


At a certain point, Nicholas White ran out of ideas. Anger and vindictiveness took root. He began to think, They, whoever they were, shouldn’t be able to get away with this, that he deserved some compensation for the ordeal. He cast about for blame. He wondered where his colleague was, why she hadn’t been alarmed enough by his failure to return, jacketless, from smoking a cigarette to call security. Whose fault is this? he wondered. Who’s going to pay? He decided that there was no way he was going to work the following week.

And then he gave up. The time passed in a kind of degraded fever dream. On the videotape, he lies motionless for hours at a time, face down on the floor.
A voice woke him up: “Is there someone in there?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing in there?”

White tried to explain; the voice in the intercom seemed to assume that he was an intruder. “Get me the fuck out of here!” White shrieked. Duly persuaded, the guard asked him if he wanted anything. White, who had been planning to join a few friends at a bar on Friday evening, asked for a beer.

Before long, an elevator-maintenance team arrived and, over the intercom, coached him through a set of maneuvers with the buttons. White asked what day it was, and, when they told him it was Sunday at 4 P.M., he was shocked. He had been trapped for forty-one hours. He felt a change in the breeze, which suggested that the elevator was moving. When he felt it slow again, he wrenched the door open, and there was the lobby. In his memory, he had to climb up onto the landing, but the video does not corroborate this. When he emerged from the elevator, he saw his friends, with a couple of security guards, and a maintenance man, waiting, with an empty chair. His friends turned to see him and were appalled at the sight; he looked like a ghost, one of them said later. The security guard handed him an open Heineken. He took one sip but found the beer repellent, like Hans Castorp with his Maria Mancini cigar. White told a guard, “Somebody could’ve died in there.”

“I know,” the guard said.

White had to go upstairs to get his jacket. He demanded that the guards come with him, and so they rode together on the service elevator, with the elevator operator. The presence of others with radios put him at ease. In his office he found that his co-worker, in a fit of pique over his disappearance, had written an angry screed, and taped it to his computer screen, for all their colleagues to see. He went home, and then headed to a bar. He woke up to a reel of phone messages and a horde of reporters colonizing his stoop. He barely left his apartment in the ensuing days, deputizing his friends to talk to reporters through a crack in the door.

White never went back to work at the magazine. Caught up in media attention (which he shunned but thrilled to), prodded by friends, and perhaps provoked by overly solicitous overtures from McGraw-Hill, White fell under the sway of renown and grievance, and then that of the legal establishment. He got a lawyer, and came to believe that returning to work might signal a degree of mental fitness detrimental to litigation. Instead, he spent eight weeks in Anguilla. Eventually, Business Week had to let him go. The lawsuit he filed, for twenty-five million dollars, against the building’s management and the elevator-maintenance company, took four years. They settled for an amount that White is not allowed to disclose, but he will not contest that it was a low number, hardly six figures. He never learned why the elevator stopped; there was talk of a power dip, but nothing definite. Meanwhile, White no longer had his job, which he’d held for fifteen years, and lost all contact with his former colleagues. He lost his apartment, spent all his money, and searched, mostly in vain, for paying work. He is currently unemployed.

Looking back on the experience now, with a peculiarly melancholic kind of bewilderment, he recognizes that he walked onto an elevator one night, with his life in one kind of shape, and emerged from it with his life in another. Still, he now sees that it wasn’t so much the elevator that changed him as his reaction to it. He has come to terms with the trauma of the experience but not with his decision to pursue a lawsuit instead of returning to work. If anything, it prolonged the entrapment. He won’t blame the elevator.

Tonight! In concert! 7:30! Yay!

Such a crime
I don’t remember being taken
This love was meant for
Wandering eyes and fakin’
So hot the way you looking
And when he’s on it, man he’s running and he’s booking

Didn’t know what to think in the beginning
But you got me so wet
And then you left me swimming
Keep it coming with the love I can’t resist
I’m so tired but don’t you dare quit

Cause it’s a lie, it’s a crime and it’s just something
That I can’t deny but
You know it looks so good from the outside
It’s a mistake that I’m willing to make
And a promise that I just might break but
Gotta find out how much my heart can take

From the moment I met you
I knew this love was bound to get you
Well I know I know I know you’re weak that way
Looking out the window and it’s only the beginning
People are talking
And my ears start ringing
But I don’t care what they say
Cause they’ll never know me anyway

Cause it’s a lie, it’s a crime and it’s just something
That I can’t deny but
You know it looks so good from the outside
It’s a mistake that I’m willing to make
And a promise that I just might break
Gotta find out how much my heart can take

And I know what he wants
And I know what he needs
I got the type of love
That’s gonna bring you right down to your knees

Bring you right down to your knees
I’m begging you oh please
I want to be the lover
For your cover
How could you deny
This love so great
Love so grand
If you don’t understand
That this love will take you make you
It’ll mess you maybe break you
But it’ll leave you stronger in the end
And I guess it all depends

Cause it’s a lie, it’s a crime, and it’s just something that I can’t deny
You know it looks so good from the outside
It’s a mistake that I’m willing to make
And a promise that I just might break but
Gotta find out how much my heart can take
Now I’m beggin ya please . . .

—Tristan Prettyman / Please

mmmmmm

Your laughter's still ringing in my ears

I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
I'm no longer moved to drink strong whisky
'Cause I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived till I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
Your face it dances and it haunts me
Your laughter's still ringing in my ears
I still find pieces of your presence here
Even after all these years
But I don't want you thinking I don't get asked to dinner
'Cause I'm here to say that I sometimes do
Even though I may soon feel the touch of love
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
If I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

—Colin Hay / I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You

Adore. This. Song.

great songs, great artists, strange videos . . .

Dammit.

You know how music has the ability to take you back in time? You know how you can mark certain moments, situations, period of times with a song, musician, album?

Well, fuck fuck fuckity fuck that.

So, yeah . . . that sometimes blows.

Only things worth living for are Innocence and magic, amen

Take this silver lining
Keep it in your own
Sweet head
And shine it when the night is
Burning red
Shine it in the twilight
Shine it on the cold, cold ground
Shine it till these walls
Come tumbling down

We were born with our eyes wide open
So alive with wild hope now
Can you tell me why
Time after time they drag you down
Down in the darkest deep
Fools and their madness all around
Know that the light don't sleep

Step into the silence
Take it in your own
Two hands
And scatter it like diamonds
All across these lands
Blaze it in the morning
Wear it like an iron skin
Only things worth living for are
Innocence and magic, amen

We were born with our eyes wide open
So alive with wild hope now
Can you tell me why
Time after time they drag you down
Down in the darkest deep
Fools and their madness all around
Know that the light don't sleep

We were born with our eyes wide open
So alive with wild hope now
Can you tell me why
Time after time they drag you down
Down in the talk so cheap
Fools and their madness all around
Know that the light don't sleep
Know that the light don't sleep

Time after time
They drag you down
Down in the darkness deep
Fools in their madness all around
Know that the light don't sleep
Know that the light don't sleep

—David Gray / Silver Lining

Yum in my Tum.

I'm pretty sure this isn't part of the Must-Lose-10-Pounds-By-UK-Trip BUT in it goes . . .

Muggins' Tummy = Happy Little Pudgy Camper

And I have all of my things that I shouldn't do over again

It's Monday afternoon and I'm drinking again
And I know I promised you that the Lord would be my friend
But the Lord and I don't get along so very good
He doesn't speak a word out to me
Like you promised that he would
And I'm telling you
I wish I was a better person

When the clouds roll in and the sky promises rain
You just accept the way she is and you don't even complain
Though you wish that it was sunny and the sky would stay blue
You don't accept a thing about me
And wish that I was just like you
But I'm telling you
I wish I was a better person

I don't want to work at it
It should come naturally
It shouldn't be so difficult
Should be more like honey to the bee

Well the bee has his sting and the sky has her rain
And I have all of my things that I shouldn't do over again
But if I just say the words and I look you in the eye
That I am promising you, I promise
I wish I was a better person

I don't want to work at it
It should come naturally
It shouldn't be so difficult
Should be more like honey to the bee

Well it's Monday afternoon and I'm drinking again
And I know I promised you that the Lord would be my friend
But the Lord and I don't get along so very good
He doesn't speak a word out to me
Like you promised that he would
And I'm telling you
I am telling you
I am telling you
I wish I was a better person
A better person
A better person
A better person

—Lori McKenna, Monday Afternoon

Lovely.

This is the nicest website I've seen in a long time. It's really beautifully done. I'm emailing the Webmaster and letting him/her know that they rock.

KathleenEdwards.com

you were never anything but beautiful to me . . . which means i've been thinking of you all along

some crazy fucker carved a sculpture out of butter
and propped it up in the middle of the bonanza breakfast bar
and i am stuffing toast and sausage into my pockets
under a sign that says grand opening
while my dog is waiting in the car

i wake up, i check out
i fill the tank and wash the windshield clean
then i'm back out on the highway
and BANG that's when i remember my dream:

we were standing in a garden
and i had a machine that made silence
it just sucked up the whole opinionated din
and there were no people on the payroll
and there were no monkeys on our backs
and i said, show me what you look like
without skin

science chases money
and money chases its tail
and the best minds of my generation
can't make bail
but the bacteria are coming to take us down
that's my prediction
it's the answer to this culture
of the quick fix prescription

but in the garden of simple
where all of us are nameless
you were never anything but beautiful to me
they never really owned you
you just carried them around you
and then one day you put 'em down
and found your hands were free

so now it's early in the morning
at the longitude of memphis
and the sun is setting sweetly on hong kong
and the big plan is just to keep spinning
cuz the big bang is only just beginning
and sometimes it's all that we can do just to hang on

and what i meant to say is muah which means i'm thinking of ya
which means i've been thinking of you
all along

—ani difranco / garden of simple

Dumplings and beer.

I had a pretty vivid dream last night. I was with my older sister and we were at the beach. We were told a tsunami was coming. There were HUGE waves. We scrambled to leave and on the way to safer ground, Sarah insisted we stop to get:
1. Dumplings
2. Beer
3. Ice cream
4. A couple books

I was pretty worried that there wasn’t time to stop, but we did. I dropped a beer on the way out and had to run towards the waves to collect it. I grabbed it and ran back to her. We crossed a NYC street, on our way to my apartment. And we were happy and laughing.

What in the HELL does any of that mean?

(I’m pretty sure I’ve only had dumplings once in my life.)

Interesting.

What Makes Annie Shoot?