they held me down and mister mestopholees fucked me.
oh, what a wonderful few days. no, denver was not fun. it was nice, but nice like visiting your grandmother when she's more delerious than usual and addresses you with some long dead lover's name.
...not that i'd know what that's like.
anyway. i'm prickly when held in close quartars with my 11yo cousin that tries very much to be me and my 51 yo mother that tries very much to keep the volume level in the car less audible than her own breathing.
i got back in time to miss the seeing the one documentary that was as good or better than mine and all the others had a great many faults. the boxer one was far too simplistic, incorporating only minor comentary from the subject and archival video footage. the accordian one used multiple angles for its interview (its main content) but the three (i think) cameras used were all set to different white ballances and the shifts between camera angle were extremly random, taking place even while the subject was in mid word. the growing up poor thing was too predictable, too plain, too whinney, and tookplace too far away. ummm... the animation wasn't substantial enough to hold great value. the la liaron (sorry i'm so white) was full of agrivating stereotyps of hispanics, even in my opinion, and was certainly not made by students. the bus stop one was made by two dicks with egos obviously bigger than their members. that one had quite a self indulgent intro. tee hee.
but whatever, who am i to judge, i'm not much of a critic. i'm just angst ridden and want the prize money for the band.
the girl's pissed again. this time i really don't feel like i've done anything stupid. i feel like... i don't know. like not getting hung up on. that seems to be a common end to conversation lately. i'm feeling salty, but that might just be the emo in me building up preasure.
the decline of british sea power is quite a listen. at first i thought i was hearing some kind of krazy post punk thing, but then it got... post new wave? i don't know, i'm sure armando will define it in a response.
tromadance is this saterday and sunday. should be fuckin' cool.
you can't really tell in this size, but the guild is in the background (with such intentional detail as to even include keif's van!). i shouldn't have to point out that this is what i'm doing this weekend. you're all encouraged to come, but the only free seat will be in the pj booth with no view and no real air conditioning.
wip3out special edition came today. the only place i can play it right now is the theater. cheers to epilepsy.
i want to compose poetry in morse code and then run that through a bunch of cool effects and send it off at dusk on some shortwave radio channel so that some one in some distant neglected corner of the globe falls in love with it, but thinks it's someone broadcasting dolphin songs. maybe i'll just send it into a dolphin tank. maybe they'd appreciate it.
i wanna make my kaiju meets rushmore meets highfidelity meets ichi the killer movie.
i want this, i want that, i want an amp you can't shake a stick at.