Never Punch A Gifthorse In The Mouth
...All's well that ends 'well'.
Thursday, 3 May 2012
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
Nothing Rhymes with Nothing: Bon Iver.
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"Someway, baby, it's part of me, apart from me"
You're laying waste to Halloween
You fucked it, friend, it's on it's head, it struck the street
You're in Milwaukee, off your feet
... and at once I knew I was not magnificent
Strayed above the highway aisle
(Jagged vacance, thick with ice)
I could see for miles, miles, miles
3rd and Lake it burnt away, the hallway
Was where we learned to celebrate
Automatic bought the years you'd talk for me
That night you played me 'Lip Parade'
Not the needle, nor the thread, the lost decree
Saying nothing, that's enough for me
... and at once I knew I was not magnificent
Hulled far from the highway aisle
(Jagged vacance, thick with ice)
I could see for miles, miles, miles
Christmas night, it clutched the light, the hallow bright
Above my brother, I and tangled spines
We smoked the screen to make it what it was to be
Now to know it my memory:
... and at once I knew I was not magnificent.
High above the highway aisle
(Jagged vacance, thick with ice)
I could see for miles, miles, miles
****************************************************************************
Music for your listening pleasure...
"Someway, baby, it's part of me, apart from me"
You're laying waste to Halloween
You fucked it, friend, it's on it's head, it struck the street
You're in Milwaukee, off your feet
... and at once I knew I was not magnificent
Strayed above the highway aisle
(Jagged vacance, thick with ice)
I could see for miles, miles, miles
3rd and Lake it burnt away, the hallway
Was where we learned to celebrate
Automatic bought the years you'd talk for me
That night you played me 'Lip Parade'
Not the needle, nor the thread, the lost decree
Saying nothing, that's enough for me
... and at once I knew I was not magnificent
Hulled far from the highway aisle
(Jagged vacance, thick with ice)
I could see for miles, miles, miles
Christmas night, it clutched the light, the hallow bright
Above my brother, I and tangled spines
We smoked the screen to make it what it was to be
Now to know it my memory:
... and at once I knew I was not magnificent.
High above the highway aisle
(Jagged vacance, thick with ice)
I could see for miles, miles, miles
****************************************************************************
Monday, 30 January 2012
Nothing Rhymes with Nothing: First Aid Kit.
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Music for your listening pleasure...
Oh the bitter winds are coming in
And I'm already missing the summer
Stockholm's cold but I've been told
I was born to endure this kind of weather
When it's you I find like a ghost in my mind
I am defeated and I gladly wear the crown
I'll be your Emmylou and I'll be your June
If you'll be my Gram and my Johnny too
You know I'm not asking much of you
Just sing little darling sing with me
Now so much I know that things just don't grow
If you don't bless them with your patience
And I've been there before I held up the door
For every stranger with a promise
But I'm holding back, that's the strength that I lack
Every morning keeps returning at my window
And it brings me to you and I won't just pass through
But I'm not asking for a storm
I'll be your Emmylou and I'll be your June
If you'll be my Gram and my Johnny too
You know I'm not asking much of you
Just sing little darling sing with me
And yes I might have lied to you
You wouldn't benefit for knowing the truth
I was frightened but I held fast
I need you now at long last
I'll be your Emmylou and I'll be your June
If you'll be my Gram and my Johnny too
You know I'm not asking much of you
Just sing little darling sing with me
I'll be your Emmylou and I'll be your June
If you'll be my Gram and my Johnny too
You know I'm not asking much of you
Just sing little darling sing with me
Just sing little darling sing with me
Music for your listening pleasure...
Oh the bitter winds are coming in
And I'm already missing the summer
Stockholm's cold but I've been told
I was born to endure this kind of weather
When it's you I find like a ghost in my mind
I am defeated and I gladly wear the crown
I'll be your Emmylou and I'll be your June
If you'll be my Gram and my Johnny too
You know I'm not asking much of you
Just sing little darling sing with me
Now so much I know that things just don't grow
If you don't bless them with your patience
And I've been there before I held up the door
For every stranger with a promise
But I'm holding back, that's the strength that I lack
Every morning keeps returning at my window
And it brings me to you and I won't just pass through
But I'm not asking for a storm
I'll be your Emmylou and I'll be your June
If you'll be my Gram and my Johnny too
You know I'm not asking much of you
Just sing little darling sing with me
And yes I might have lied to you
You wouldn't benefit for knowing the truth
I was frightened but I held fast
I need you now at long last
I'll be your Emmylou and I'll be your June
If you'll be my Gram and my Johnny too
You know I'm not asking much of you
Just sing little darling sing with me
I'll be your Emmylou and I'll be your June
If you'll be my Gram and my Johnny too
You know I'm not asking much of you
Just sing little darling sing with me
Just sing little darling sing with me
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Sunday, 29 January 2012
Nothing Rhymes with Nothing: The National.
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Music for your listening pleasure...
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Music for your listening pleasure...
So happy I was invited
Give me a reason to get out of the city
See you inside watching swarms on TV
Livin' or dyin' in New York it means nothing to me
I gave my heart to the Army
The only sentimental thing I could think of
With cousins and colors and somewhere overseas
But it'll take a better war to kill a college man like me
I'm too tired to drive anyway, anyway right now
Do you care if I stayed?
You can put on your bathing suits
And I'll try to find somethin' on this thing that means nothin' enough
Losin' my breath
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld, I want to sit in and die
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
This pricey stuff makes me dizzy
I guess I've always been a delicate man
Takes me a day to remember a day
I didn't mean to let it get so far out of hand
I was a comfortable kid
But I don't think about it much anymore
Lay me on the table, put flowers in my mouth
And we can say that we invented a summer lovin' torture party
I'm too tired to drive anyway, anyway right now
Do you care if I stayed?
You can put on your bathing suits
And I'll try to find something on this thing that means nothin' enough
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld, I want to sit in and die
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
Losin' my breath
Give me a reason to get out of the city
See you inside watching swarms on TV
Livin' or dyin' in New York it means nothing to me
I gave my heart to the Army
The only sentimental thing I could think of
With cousins and colors and somewhere overseas
But it'll take a better war to kill a college man like me
I'm too tired to drive anyway, anyway right now
Do you care if I stayed?
You can put on your bathing suits
And I'll try to find somethin' on this thing that means nothin' enough
Losin' my breath
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld, I want to sit in and die
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
This pricey stuff makes me dizzy
I guess I've always been a delicate man
Takes me a day to remember a day
I didn't mean to let it get so far out of hand
I was a comfortable kid
But I don't think about it much anymore
Lay me on the table, put flowers in my mouth
And we can say that we invented a summer lovin' torture party
I'm too tired to drive anyway, anyway right now
Do you care if I stayed?
You can put on your bathing suits
And I'll try to find something on this thing that means nothin' enough
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld, I want to sit in and die
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
Losin' my breath
****************************************************************************************
Tuesday, 3 January 2012
Monday, 2 January 2012
Cookies.
By Douglas Adams.
"This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me.
I had gone to catch a train.
This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K.
I was a bit early for the train. I'd gotten the time of the train wrong. I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.
I want you to picture the scene. It's very important that you get this very clear in your mind.
Here's the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There's a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.
It didn't look like he was going to do anything weird.
What he did was this:
He suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.
Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There's nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.
You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know. . . But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn't do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?
In the end I thought, nothing for it, I'll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn't because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.
Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice..." I mean, it doesn't really work.
We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.
Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.
The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who's had the same exact story, only he doesn't have the punch line".
"This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me.
I had gone to catch a train.
This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K.
I was a bit early for the train. I'd gotten the time of the train wrong. I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.
I want you to picture the scene. It's very important that you get this very clear in your mind.
Here's the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There's a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.
It didn't look like he was going to do anything weird.
What he did was this:
He suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.
Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There's nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.
You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know. . . But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn't do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?
In the end I thought, nothing for it, I'll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn't because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.
Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice..." I mean, it doesn't really work.
We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.
Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.
The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who's had the same exact story, only he doesn't have the punch line".
Nothing Rhymes with Nothing: Cat Power.
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Music for your listening pleasure...
We've lived in bars and danced on the tables
Hotels, trains and ships that sail
We swim with sharks and fly with aeroplanes in the air
Send in the trumpets, the marching wheelchairs
Open the blankets and give them some air
Swords and arches, bones and cement
The light and the dark of the innocent of men
We know your house so very well
And we will wake you once we've walked up all your stairs
There's nothing like living in a bottle
And nothing like ending it all for the world
We're so glad you will come back
Every living lion will lay in your lap
The kid has a homecoming the champion, the horse
Who's gonna play drums guitar or organ with chorus
As far as we've walked from both of ends of the sand
Never have we caught a glimpse of this man
We know your house so very well
And we will bust down your door if you're not there
We've lived in bars and danced on tables
Hotels, trains and ships that sail
We swim with sharks and fly with aeroplanes out of here
Out of here
We swim with sharks and fly with aeroplanes in the air
Send in the trumpets, the marching wheelchairs
Open the blankets and give them some air
Swords and arches, bones and cement
The light and the dark of the innocent of men
We know your house so very well
And we will wake you once we've walked up all your stairs
There's nothing like living in a bottle
And nothing like ending it all for the world
We're so glad you will come back
Every living lion will lay in your lap
The kid has a homecoming the champion, the horse
Who's gonna play drums guitar or organ with chorus
As far as we've walked from both of ends of the sand
Never have we caught a glimpse of this man
We know your house so very well
And we will bust down your door if you're not there
We've lived in bars and danced on tables
Hotels, trains and ships that sail
We swim with sharks and fly with aeroplanes out of here
Out of here
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Sunday, 1 January 2012
Wine.
Note To Self:
Never take advice on the quality of a bottle of red wine from a man with tattooed forearms.
Never take advice on the quality of a bottle of red wine from a man with tattooed forearms.
North by North-Wes.
“Wes Anderson has a very special kind of talent: He knows how to convey the simple joys and interactions between people so well and with such richness. This kind of sensibility is rare in movies.”
Saturday, 10 September 2011
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