Monday, February 05, 2007

I’m almost ashamed at my lack of productivity on the literary end as of late. It’s almost (sigh, nigh?) despicable a la Dudley do wrong that someone of my, eh, whatever you might bleh, should not be pontificating on Grecian urns like 80 times a day. It’s like, uh, that really average dude down on the corner that stands in front of the water machine deciding not to run for president. Yup, it’s precisely like that, and who knows, maybe that guy is the philosophical, theological, logical, political, social, all of the above, numero uno man woman child of our times, but cuz he’s such a pile he just sits in front of that water machine checking his watch and waiting for the day to hurry the fuck up and get on by so he can watch heroes at 8 oclock post meridian, and he’s even proud he knows that, and that’s a sad state of affairs.

Tony was hornswaggled into admitting what he deduced were the top 25 musical endeavors of 2006 by a band of swarthy bruins (or one swarthy bruin and a band of tree humping hermaphrodites?), anyway, the results are, after opining in my head on the first 4 or 5, so far, pretty good. I particularly liked this one (the song and the video). Seems that the more music makes us feel something, something genuine, or at least seemingly genuine, if only fleetingly, something long thought dead or assumed dormant, well, that music seems to be popular, or, at least, respected, the two obviously and sadly sometimes not going hand in hand, and thus you have my half baked theory of the day, that’s not really a theory, just a lazy observation. De nada.

Well, I’d promise to post more around these parts, but neither you nor I particularly care and both parties would likely not believe my bastardized lies, anyway, so I won’t bother offending any of your preconceived notions of the way the world works, the fashion in which it grinds to halts and starts up again on a nickel, any and all of the above. You keep your raccoons and I’ll hide with the squirrels in the middle of the field, with a war of acorns and lily pads threatening to implode the whole superstructure. Salud.