i began a 10 day free trial of world of warcraft on saty. pretty good
substition for fable the lost chapters. anyway, how the hell does a belt
provide armor protection? does it prevent back strain?
i thought i saw this lady, dude… yeah lady with what was a davy crocket
style coon-skin hat from afar in the alley between my coffee place and work.
as i got closer, i realized it was just a mullet (a 6.65 out of 10, if you
must know). this got me wondering, why wouldnt a tough-gal wear a fur
trapper’s hat?
“Di-Gata Defenders” eh? i dont quite grasp whats not derivative about this show. however, for the 8-830a slot, it seems intense and dark.
“Biker Mice from Mars” but new? cats fighting mice, again? terribly done, but i was a little older than watching cartoons when it first was popular so i guess i have no frame of reference. but the cats are shorter than the mice, ok.. the was a fart joke, the cat said, excuse me i had a bad pieroghie, then a mouse sad “try hot dogs, the breakfast of champions.”
saty morning cartoon ads are more effective than ever, at age 28, on my puny mind. i really want mario and sonic at the beijing olympics for the wii. (ping pong!!)
speaking of the olympics, i love that it was a theme last night of unity and welcome. all the commercials were all so hopeful and optimistic. every business can have a good feeling about china doing well i suppose. then, a fucking mccain commercial that was one of his anti-obama commercials. what the hell? i mean, i was hoping for a 17 day respite from them (unrealistic, i know), but even a self positing commercial would have been excusable. but an attack ad, then? thats messed up. (i dont know if i would have felt the same had it been an obama commersh, but the olympics are supposed to be about ‘one world one dream’ or whatever.)
aw shit, im out of cigarettes and the ninja turtle hour is about to start in 12 mins. time to go to the store.
there is this ‘printed pop tarts’ commercial where one pop tart eats a hat, then another one eats a crown and both show up in their bellies. i saw it watching saty morning cartoons; an odd place to advertise anthropomorphized food eating non-food objects in a way meant to be interpreted as positive. (interestingly, after the first two, a third comes along who has a pop tart on his belly, and the other two seem repulsed by his implied (?) cannibalism.)
“We are about to take you into the world of the LSD user. A world that to him is real, yet is as terrifying and unreal as anything ever imagined. We call his trip of terror: ‘To Fly A Giant Bird.”
“So, we need you to act really wild and crazy like you’re on LSD for the camera, ok?”
“Ok… but I’ve never taken LSD. What is it like?”
“Well, it’s kind of like you’re a retarded bird…”
“You mean, like a chicken?”
“Yeah! A chicken! A retarded chicken.”
“Ok, I got it, thanks! Ready to roll…”
[ok, I just made that up, but you gotta see this….]
a.b and i got to see bon iver on sunday night at the wexner performance spce here in columbus. we, among a few hundred others squeezed not too tightly in there to see them and the bowerbirds.
if you like bon iver, go over to daytrotter sessions and pick up those tracks to get an idea of the difference between live and album. also, if you have the mp3s, go to your local record store (magnolia thunderpussy if youre in cbus) to pick it up on vinyl also to get a better idea of the texture of the album.
the stage and the performance were terrific. its four non-descript guys, relaxed and playing music. its not a stretch to say that they were inviting though. from the lead interacting with the audience to the active solicitation that the crowd sing along during wolves, the audience never escaped into some abstract space for listening. it was always a directly engaged experience.
lately it seems i keep having dreams every evening of accomplishing
something, resolving some substantive issue.
theres an account of how the indigenous people of south america “couldnt
see” Spaniard ships because they had no frame in which to name these
unknowns on the horizon. /supposedly/, their lack of words predicated a lack
of perception.
waking up in the mornings, more than other narrative dreams, my recent
nightly wanderings fall off the slate of my mind faster and cleaner than
fair. all thats left are vapors of some deep emotional satisfaction that
diminish as quickly as the mind awakens. perspicacity of our deepest urge is
swiftly eviscerated when a life is out of harmony between daily doings of
the intensely personal, and interpersonal or professional.
i have lost sight of the meaning of things, the roots of satisfaction, and
this leaves me a headless marauder in the dark night of awareness and
attainment. i aspire to ambition, and seek after the desire for attachment;
yet both are synthetic things of pursuit rather than states upon which any
personal value is assigned. it is this nether-region that greets each dawn.
these fleeting dreams’ serial disappearances are decrying the chase of some
other that will never lead to satisfaction.
[i think im going to add this to my careerbuilder profile as well as my
transcendental meditation widget]
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