(no subject)
From Franklin Bruno's critique (ha!) of Elvis Costello's 'Armed Forces':
In the sermon "Our God is Able," Martin Luther King Jr. said, "In a real sense, Waterloo symbolizes the doom of every Napoleon and is an eternal reminder to a generation drunk with military power that in the long run of history might does not make right and the power of the sword cannot conquer the power of the spirit."
On the telephone in 1952, asking Coretta Scott for a first date, Reverend King also said, "You know every Napoleon has his Waterloo. I'm at my Waterloo. I'm like Napoleon, and I'm down on my knees," referring to his failure to meet appropriate women in Boston. (In his autobiography, King remarks, "I was starting to get cynical.")
To tell the truth, it's normally when things in my life are most difficult that I find myself here. I suppose I am mostly past the worst things lately, but then I guess I'm never really sure. I'm in a new place with the old people, and it's mostly great. I ride my bike in the afternoon to the beach and I sit on rocks and am astounded by what my life will be for the next year. I reorganize my records and I watch movies and I pull old books off of the shelf, and I remember all the things I love. Let's line 'em all up. Then, the sun is down and I'm riding my bike under streetlamps and trees and the world again seems nothing but pleasant.
(Max and I were driving to campus for the all college fail/picnic the other day, we turned on the radio and, as it happened, This American Life was on the air, broadcasting their first ever episode dedicated to break ups. I can't recommend it enough, having heard only most of the first part. It's probably on the wub somewhere.)
I honestly can't tell if I'm sleeping better. I still feel crazy. I still take care of myself better than fine. I still can't wait to dance like the old days in a week, though I'm curious how that night will turn out. I freak out on campus, guys. I shake when I go out, collapse back home. Maybe not every time. Sometimes, I'm still the king.
This doesn't feel finished.
In the sermon "Our God is Able," Martin Luther King Jr. said, "In a real sense, Waterloo symbolizes the doom of every Napoleon and is an eternal reminder to a generation drunk with military power that in the long run of history might does not make right and the power of the sword cannot conquer the power of the spirit."
On the telephone in 1952, asking Coretta Scott for a first date, Reverend King also said, "You know every Napoleon has his Waterloo. I'm at my Waterloo. I'm like Napoleon, and I'm down on my knees," referring to his failure to meet appropriate women in Boston. (In his autobiography, King remarks, "I was starting to get cynical.")
To tell the truth, it's normally when things in my life are most difficult that I find myself here. I suppose I am mostly past the worst things lately, but then I guess I'm never really sure. I'm in a new place with the old people, and it's mostly great. I ride my bike in the afternoon to the beach and I sit on rocks and am astounded by what my life will be for the next year. I reorganize my records and I watch movies and I pull old books off of the shelf, and I remember all the things I love. Let's line 'em all up. Then, the sun is down and I'm riding my bike under streetlamps and trees and the world again seems nothing but pleasant.
(Max and I were driving to campus for the all college fail/picnic the other day, we turned on the radio and, as it happened, This American Life was on the air, broadcasting their first ever episode dedicated to break ups. I can't recommend it enough, having heard only most of the first part. It's probably on the wub somewhere.)
I honestly can't tell if I'm sleeping better. I still feel crazy. I still take care of myself better than fine. I still can't wait to dance like the old days in a week, though I'm curious how that night will turn out. I freak out on campus, guys. I shake when I go out, collapse back home. Maybe not every time. Sometimes, I'm still the king.
This doesn't feel finished.