Official Unneglection of Blog
Got back from Chicago on Friday. Now I'm home. Pictures to come as soon as Missy gets back from New York with the camera.
Aside from the usual going-home-to -see-where-I-grew-up stuff, I'm mostly excited as all hell about a preview I saw on TV (don't get much tv here, just public access. . . which is fine, but not very present as you could imagine).
I love Terry Gilliam!!!!! My collection of video taped movies is packed with his work: Jabberwocky, Time Bandits,the Fisher King,12 Monkeys, Fear and Loathing (ok, it's not a very big collection). Everything else is an attempt to get that "Gilliam Feel" (The Wall, Bring out the Dead, City of Lost Children, Labyrinth, the Dark Crystal, Fantastic Planet, Goonies. . . add them all up and it's like a Terry Gilliam flick). I mean, for Fuck's Sake. . . the dude cut his teeth doing all the animations for Monty Python (and by-fucking-hand he did those with a Super 8 and a gigantic bag of weed!).
Despite problems trying to finance the super-stupid budget it takes to produce a work of the likes that his exceptional imagination conceives (see the movie Lost in LaMancha for more of that particular cinematic injustice), he's just about to grace our collective minds with another piece of Gilliamana. I don't know if you've caught the preview yet (Here . . . catch!), but I'm just chewing the ass out of my pants with anticipation. This will be my first brand-spanking-new DVD purchase (and you know what a cheap bastard I am!).
Speaking of being a Cheap Bastard:
Our household has turned it's buying power towards the high-tek in the last couple of months. We've been good-boy-sit consumers in an attempt to maintain technological comfort in this desolate location.
The product propigation started slow. Christmas brought me my first cell phone. Considering I lived in Toronto without this most basic of modern necessities, I figured I could hold-out another decade, but it was not to be. More recently, a 250 Gig Lacie External Hard Drive appeared and acted the role of courier between Melissa's Scho-oloffice Mac and our Home PC (P. C. = Please Consider, as in "Please consider this thing was made to be a cash register").
Now, that was over a span of 8 months. In the last 15 days, our environment has seen the addition of a Sony Digital Camera and an iPod (for the sake of our finacial credibility, I'm pretending this infux of white and silver machinery is due to extra funds loosened up by the $8000 grant Melissa received for her next show).
iPod! uuhhmmmmhhmmhhmm!
Even now, from the next room, I can hear the entire Faith No More catalog filling it's little white belly with almost-bungly-power-pop-for-retro-perverts-and-bad-cop-wanna-be's (hyphen king . . . thank you).
*(Decides the break from posting warrants an extra long rant, although normally, I would stop here and kid myself into thinking I'd plan on remembering this particular shpeal for a later post {that was omnious for-shadowing to the real point here(hear)}. Got the seatbelt on your thinking cap tightened for this installment of usually-kept-in-the-brain-cause-it-would-require-to-much-concentration-brain-candy?).
The iPod has altered my conception of music in two days. I can't help but project myself into the near future and try to anaylze my music listening habits. Until now, the hobby/past-time/therapuetic/recreational application of music into my sound holes has required some sort of commitment. In the very least regards to the idea, the selection of a CD was necessary for any sort of listening experience.
This unfolded as thus:
it starts with the act of physically approaching my disorganised collection of discs, being forced to acknowledge it as such, thus accepting my lack of motivation to catagorize multiple aspects of my life (even ones as essential as my love for this waved-bringer of sonic substance). Step 2 was the immediate justification of this non-decision with an observanve of the uninstinctual randomness that is enabled through a non-organised system, which appears to reward an individual by inhibiting the opportunity to make an unrestricted choice and forcing unchosen, but accessible, items to seem appropriate in order to validate this mode of hap-hazard storage. The particular not-quite-perfect selection is then sweeted through the listening as an homage to the gods of choas. A humbling penance to the supremacy of Chance's appeal in comparison to my own predictable predilection towards the limits of my own preference.
But now, this has all changed, and with it, I'm changing too. For the first time in almost a decade, I'm going to go make myself breakfast as opposed to waiting to eat until my stomach is growling. Something about this new control of musical input has allowed me to hasten the din in my head that speaks of missed opportunities and temporal restrictions in regards to how much time neccessary tasks consume. By switching the interface of one aspect of my life, all others follow suit in some respect.
Maybe after breakfast I'll alphabetize my books?
Aside from the usual going-home-to -see-where-I-grew-up stuff, I'm mostly excited as all hell about a preview I saw on TV (don't get much tv here, just public access. . . which is fine, but not very present as you could imagine).
I love Terry Gilliam!!!!! My collection of video taped movies is packed with his work: Jabberwocky, Time Bandits,the Fisher King,12 Monkeys, Fear and Loathing (ok, it's not a very big collection). Everything else is an attempt to get that "Gilliam Feel" (The Wall, Bring out the Dead, City of Lost Children, Labyrinth, the Dark Crystal, Fantastic Planet, Goonies. . . add them all up and it's like a Terry Gilliam flick). I mean, for Fuck's Sake. . . the dude cut his teeth doing all the animations for Monty Python (and by-fucking-hand he did those with a Super 8 and a gigantic bag of weed!).
Despite problems trying to finance the super-stupid budget it takes to produce a work of the likes that his exceptional imagination conceives (see the movie Lost in LaMancha for more of that particular cinematic injustice), he's just about to grace our collective minds with another piece of Gilliamana. I don't know if you've caught the preview yet (Here . . . catch!), but I'm just chewing the ass out of my pants with anticipation. This will be my first brand-spanking-new DVD purchase (and you know what a cheap bastard I am!).
Speaking of being a Cheap Bastard:
Our household has turned it's buying power towards the high-tek in the last couple of months. We've been good-boy-sit consumers in an attempt to maintain technological comfort in this desolate location.
The product propigation started slow. Christmas brought me my first cell phone. Considering I lived in Toronto without this most basic of modern necessities, I figured I could hold-out another decade, but it was not to be. More recently, a 250 Gig Lacie External Hard Drive appeared and acted the role of courier between Melissa's Scho-oloffice Mac and our Home PC (P. C. = Please Consider, as in "Please consider this thing was made to be a cash register").
Now, that was over a span of 8 months. In the last 15 days, our environment has seen the addition of a Sony Digital Camera and an iPod (for the sake of our finacial credibility, I'm pretending this infux of white and silver machinery is due to extra funds loosened up by the $8000 grant Melissa received for her next show).
iPod! uuhhmmmmhhmmhhmm!
Even now, from the next room, I can hear the entire Faith No More catalog filling it's little white belly with almost-bungly-power-pop-for-retro-perverts-and-bad-cop-wanna-be's (hyphen king . . . thank you).
*(Decides the break from posting warrants an extra long rant, although normally, I would stop here and kid myself into thinking I'd plan on remembering this particular shpeal for a later post {that was omnious for-shadowing to the real point here(hear)}. Got the seatbelt on your thinking cap tightened for this installment of usually-kept-in-the-brain-cause-it-would-require-to-much-concentration-brain-candy?).
The iPod has altered my conception of music in two days. I can't help but project myself into the near future and try to anaylze my music listening habits. Until now, the hobby/past-time/therapuetic/recreational application of music into my sound holes has required some sort of commitment. In the very least regards to the idea, the selection of a CD was necessary for any sort of listening experience.
This unfolded as thus:
it starts with the act of physically approaching my disorganised collection of discs, being forced to acknowledge it as such, thus accepting my lack of motivation to catagorize multiple aspects of my life (even ones as essential as my love for this waved-bringer of sonic substance). Step 2 was the immediate justification of this non-decision with an observanve of the uninstinctual randomness that is enabled through a non-organised system, which appears to reward an individual by inhibiting the opportunity to make an unrestricted choice and forcing unchosen, but accessible, items to seem appropriate in order to validate this mode of hap-hazard storage. The particular not-quite-perfect selection is then sweeted through the listening as an homage to the gods of choas. A humbling penance to the supremacy of Chance's appeal in comparison to my own predictable predilection towards the limits of my own preference.
But now, this has all changed, and with it, I'm changing too. For the first time in almost a decade, I'm going to go make myself breakfast as opposed to waiting to eat until my stomach is growling. Something about this new control of musical input has allowed me to hasten the din in my head that speaks of missed opportunities and temporal restrictions in regards to how much time neccessary tasks consume. By switching the interface of one aspect of my life, all others follow suit in some respect.
Maybe after breakfast I'll alphabetize my books?
posted by Matthew Pazzol at 7:29 AM
2 Comments:
technology!!! im so glad you have a cell though...i called you. sorry i missed you in chicago, what did you do there? did you go out at all or see any other ISU peeps? i love my ipod and have plenty of faith no more on it too. its good to move into the future. yep.
so, our guy has just departed the north-western suburbs of that-your city. i hear he had a glorious and wickedly exciting time.
i refuse to believe you have a cell phone. it is utterly unimaginable. i'm fairly sure you're lying, but not entirely. i am uncomfortable with this confusion. SO. please take some pictures with your new digital camera of your newly organized head/brain (how is THAT possible? i need major help in that area) and your lovely furry ear holes accepting those radiating and possibly carcinogenic waves from your new cellphone device. then i will believe it to be true.
Fucking Nice Grant Writing/Worthying, Missy! Fuckin-A! Right ON! (meaning could you please pass on the above.)
first book about ipodding: "ipod, therefore i am", author forgotten. not necessarily recommended as i have yet to read it and probably never will, but in'eresting nonetheless maybe.
oh, and crispin had a dream about you and it involved multiple head injuries, but lots of crazy lights. he liked it. he says hi too.
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