My television always seems to be tuned to Sirius Left Of Center or episodes of House.
Right now I'm grappling with a conundrum that I've seen manifest itself repeatedly in my life. That which I initially hate I eventually love. Current exhibit: Tegan and Sara. Mullets & Canadian; it all conspires against them plus they weren't great shakes when they opened for Ryan Adams at the Ryman all those years ago. But suddenly I'm enjoying them in a completely unassuming and innocent way. I'm not trying to be a hipster. I'm just digging the way they sound together. I've come to realize I pass from obsession to obsession as regularly as the seasons.
I'm also totally grooving to Klosterman's scattershot pop culture philosophy in Sex, Drugs, And Cocoa Puffs. It's one of those zeitgeist type things for me - the right time to be reading something.
Finished it and now I’m over it.
I took the odometer off my bicycle. I've quit caring how many miles I ride or how fast I go. It's enough that I ride.
"Call me Ishmael" is the best beginning line in all of literature.
All of those “simplification” ideas I’ve collected and saved to Word files were slowing my system down so I finally took their advice: I deleted them.
The burn always follows the crash.
Pretty sneaky, sis would make a great album title for Tegan And Sara.
Some days all it is, is Paste Special, Paste Special, undo, and redo.
Things that creep me out: player pianos, music boxes – basically any mechanically contrived self playing musical device, clowns, mimes, helicopters, and computerized voices (just imagine how much I loathed Neil Young’s Trans album).
Some days you wonder: just who can you trust? You’re not really paranoid when everybody is out to get you.