True – Downpilot – Leaving Not Arriving
This song is the canoe trip you took against your better judgment. With the boy who isn’t quite right for you but had exhausted your ability to say no or come up with alternatives. And the tipsy narrow floating piece of fiberglass passes under a bridge and under gray skies. And you look up to see black birds flying somewhere, wouldn’t it be nice to fly somewhere?
And it’s anachronistic to be listening to this song, but you hope there will be a fire tonight, and laughter, and maybe enough of a spark to forget that whatever there was between you died long ago, and then this will be validated. But there’s no fire, your campsite is stripped bare of wood by the hundreds of weekend woodspeople who came before you. And the song remains the anachronism of a sad little trip to a lake in the mountains in the woods, under a gray sky.
[edit: Happy Birthday Blog – You’re 1 years young…]
The midnight cafe above candlelight. The conversation dances a cigarette in your hands, barely touched by the tips of your long long long olive fingers. Your eyes sparkle and your face animates. And you come back to the point you made twenty minutes ago in a totally new and unexpected way…and you laugh at yourself. The cigarette dances. And the smoke twines and oxbows a writhing arabesque until it dissolves, an ashy squirt of ink in a clear pond of air. Writhing a line from the smoke to her eyes to your bodies entwined… Octopus ink diffuses from lines incised (head down) by oblong stylus into the soft pulp of a Beefeater coaster’s blank reverse.
Slave to the grind
Losin’ my mind
Until I find
Love’s come back to me
Fascinating name frequency graphs from 1900 to now, found
every name I entered.
This is an awesome mp3 site.
Strange web-crawling program (I think) plus image compositing software that will make digital art for j00!!!
Is the British term for toilet the earliest use of l33t-sp34k extant???
This evening while walking home I passed a man standing resignedly beside a small commercial truck (hard to convey the scale, a mini-truck, a Ryder truck shrunk down to Japan-size). He was parked in front of one of the large apartment complexes on my walk home. I could hear a generator running and the rear doors of the truck were open. The side of the truck was also rolled up, and so the entire back compartment was revealed. It held a miniature tiled shower and bath (well not so miniature, but even this was smaller than normal japanese size baths) gleaming under incandescent light. There was a banner for TOTO, the premier/only Japanese bath and toilet company, and the aforementioned man, who I can only assume was responsible for this display. He had no business, one reason might be because it was borderline freezing out, but there he was, the japanese equivalent of a door-to-door shower salesman, complete with demo kit (which, I presume, did not work (see B.)). This is one of the hundreds of moments in Japan where I become quite annoyed with myself for:
A.Not having my camera on me, and
B. Not having the ability to carry on even a halting conversation in Japanese.
However, there is one instance, waaaaaay back in October, where I did have my camera, and a handy native on hand to translate and answer my obvious questions. I could never decide which photos should get the nod for the site, but now that I have a flickr account I finally decided to just barf ’em all up on screen for you to enjoy (or not). Click on the picture and enjoy, some of them are pretty nice I think…
* – or try this if your web browser b0rks on the slideshow
My kin came up with some neat new comics. I’d tell you that even though there’s only two so far they’re fantastic, funny and beautifulâ€¦but I imagine you might suspect me of bias. So I won’t divulge exactly how awesome I feel them to be. Which is pretty awesome………….Oops.