Tuesday, November 22, 2005

I think I am becoming unintellectual… I am deintellectualising myself. These books of philosophy in which I would once search (for what…?), I search in no longer. And I don’t know if I care.

The second thing is, that I feel myself growing uninteresting to those others that I know as being interested in the articulation of thought (philosophy, theory). So I don’t bother to include myself amongst them any longer. I am no longer of interest.

Am I happy like this? I don’t know. Is this what I desire? I’m not sure, but it’s what I’m effecting, perhaps despite myself.

I’ve been reading for entertainment, for the “what happens next?”. And feeling most unsatisfied at the end of the book, of course, for I think I do it only to escape…

But I make no decisions and am in denial about all of this. How utterly half-arsed!

(Still feel guilty, though.)

Monday, November 14, 2005

Good news! John Howard wants you to mail him a turd.

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Actually

I really do like Madonna's “Hung Up”. I was hesitant at first – not because, as Tim pointed out to me, it’s entirely structured around the ABBA sample (I might even be willing to dispute this, actually) – but because it seemed a little flat, with no heightening or even change in intensity the whole way through. But then I felt it: not so much a contrast as a threat, lying between that thin confession, “every little thing that you say or do” and the galloping, heavy, relentless, drive of the beat. It’s not quite the delicious will-to-self-effacement of “Deeper and Deeper” or “Die Another Day”, but it is something very similar: the menacing danger of being enveloped, engulfed, swallowed up. Like watching a tiny surfer on a monstrous wave. The track swells up around those fragile, desperate vocals – and breakdown is imminent.

Furthermore, it’s dystopian and futuristic, which is but one of the Thin White Duke / Jacques Lu Cont / Stuart Price signatures that I’m so taken with at the moment. Among these also are the obsession with time (tick-tocks are wonderfully urgent here) and that all-encompassing, intoxicating beat. It’s like a surging, pulsing hail storm from all sides.

And finally, the references aren’t cheap – it’s Madonna, so they have the effect of reassuring us that this is the next episode of the story. “Don’t cry for me…”, she sings. And ABBA gets more than a nod in theme and lyric, outside of the famous sample: “ring ring ring goes the telephone…” One could almost imagine that it’s half-past twelve in her flat all alone!

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By the way, I have noticed recently that anytime a female vocalist uses some generic term of affection in a song – here Madonna with “baby”, but also Kate Bush’s “come on angel, come on, come on darlin’…”, Tori Amos’ “honey you bet your life…” – and countless others that I can’t think of now – I get weak at the knees. I think it’s something to do with the openness or intimacy of the lines – will have to give it more thought.

I really like songs that feel like the soundtrack to a spaceship flying through space, in an adventurous way, possibly in the manner of a 1980s film or video game soundtrack. Victorious, conquering - or perhaps searching, patrolling the endless black space, zooming and scouting for enemy craft.

In this category

Madonna, “Hung Up”

Starsailor, “Four to the Floor (Duke Remix)”

Aqua, “Cartoon Heroes”

Blondie, “Atomic”

The Knife, “Listen Now”

Also – in a spaceship, but this time the spaceship is just cruising

No Doubt, “It’s My Life”

Blondie, “Call Me”

(And if I really wanted to make this entry sound like a Dave Eggers short story, I would finish with some comment like: Of course this list is not exhaustive.)

It's Time... for a get-together

Fact.

Most thinking folk are repulsed by John Howard's vomituous, looming changes to industrial relations laws, and feel that they are WRONG WRONG WRONG!

Fact.

It's my birthday on Tuesday.

So?

I'm getting a bunch of friends together on Tuesday morning and going to the protest. And you're invited. What fun! There'll be chanting, marching and big burly Union blokes. Just find a way of contacting me and we can all meet up. What better way is there to celebrate? (Well, by drinking, but I've already got that covered later in the day, let me assure you.)

I can't wait to see you there.