August 03, 2008

KINSMAN

You know when you're fitfully skeeting your brains into say, a sidebar about being frenemies with the clicktrack, and 97 mins and 1200 words later you wonder what writing and words are and how you are going to make some more, and so you go look at examples to see if you can try and inspire yourself into something that is at least coherent and in English? And you look at your best friend's blog, which he never fucking updates, and you read something like this and think what I'm doing, that is not writing, what he is doing, now that is writing. To wit:


"And then you might try to figure out how exactly Westerberg was able to channel Carl Fisher from Blitz AND Billy Joel, and you would fail and keep listening and realize failure is engraved on the turd-encrusted esplanade walked by all the faithful and faithless alike, and that the subtle empathy of "Androgynous", which sounded like a put-down to you for years was actually far from it and in fact a kind of very powerful medicine, cure/armor that kind of carries you for weeks in it's wake, in a surprising manner, and you want to tell people (friends, acquaintances, parents, government officials, minor and major deities) here is a song so catchy and sure and it's not saying "don't touch my jewelry" or "I don't love you any more" or "I'm gonna come on your face" or "your enemies deserve the worst your rage can fathom" or "Hold on while I count my amazingly huge stacks of money and BTW feel free to admire the prestige/honor/self-satisfaction/microwave burritos it buys me"...or something like that. Records are so great! I forgive everyone!"

Posted by Jessica at August 3, 2008 10:58 PM | TrackBack