If a full moon is "full" then a new moon must be empty, anything between: incomplete. The moon is becoming new as I write this. I am listening to Duran Duran on YouTube. Just one song, nothing after that, I swear. I do not wish to appear gluttonous when it comes to such things.
Just kidding, those links are my top four, for today. I really don't care for New Moon on Monday, but felt a responsibility to link it. Okay, this one makes five.
What? Surprised that I'm a Duran Duran fan? I've always been much more a fan of Japan, the band that invented Duran Duran, and the band that was most invented by David Bowie.
That's your pop music recess for the day.
Heterosexuality took a pretty serious beating in the 80's. It has never quite recovered. The idea that there is something very wrong with men is an attitude that appears to have survived and flourished. It is unquestioned now, entered the realm of basic fact. The eighties caused it all. Go back and look, you'll see. Just watch the videos linked above. The 80's was David Bowie's bisexual masterpiece.
It was a great time to seem connected to obscurity. Too bad it couldn't last. There was simply no way to successfully merge Aerobics and Jazzercise. Everybody just gave up.
Speaking of being gay, I made lasagna last night. I don't mean to suggest that I browned meat and laid it out with strips of pasta and red sauce and then baked it, but I did peel back the cellophane and put it in the pre-heated oven for 30 minutes. It gave me terrible indigestion. Late last night, I finally couldn't take it any longer and had to get up and make an Alka-Seltzer. I think I even washed down a Zantac with it.
Kids, these are all the product-terms of early retirement. Avoid anybody that uses the word "seltzer," in private or in public, they are either old or desperately trying to appear anachronistically so. Perhaps I'll explain what these terms are in a later post, though maybe not the one in which I've promised to explain what an erection is.
That might represent a rising conflict of interest.
That's just one way in which you can know that you have purchased some quality food, when the premonition of indigestion increasingly accompanies every bite. I wanted to have a glass of red wine with my dinner but was afraid to. Me, afraid of red wine. That is a culinary feat.
All night I dreamed of being at a wedding. It was horrible.
A friend has said that he will be sending me a case of wines. He will seek my opinions on them. I requested nine reds and three whites. It is nice to have some chilled whites for the ladies and the gays. You see, I am not the brute that I make myself out to be.
Again, it was just the 80's. I swear.
I have run out of hard drive space, so I bought a new 4 TB drive. I always "zero" a drive before actually using it, which usually takes a couple hours. This one has been going since yesterday afternoon and it still has 22 hours to go.
While I was sitting here it dropped to 21 hours. My prediction: that number will continue to decrease.
I have been sitting here listening to Japan since the beginning of the post. What an underrated band, truly.
All five of their albums were released in a three year period. They were doing 80's pop in the 70's. Quiet Life was 1979... Mick Karn is a heroic fretless bass player. There is nobody else like him, really. If you pretend to be a fan of the music of this time and have never heard the album Dali's Car then email me privately and I'll berate you publicly.
I know I'll take some heat from some of my old anarchist friends for such unashamed musical confessions. But what is the point of growing old if you can't sit out on your porch with lasagna indigestion, yelling at kids about the superiority of a previous time.
Holy SHIT... I just did a wikipedia search for Patrick Nagel, and... I could not make this shit up: he died in a tragic "Aerobathon" mishap.
In the future, everyone will exercise for ~15 minutes.
If I had more time I would go back and re-write this entire piece around that little factual gem. What strikes me as being most comical in the imaginary telling of his death is just how little wikipedia has to say about his art.
Could anything reflect the vacuity of the times more fully? The pretense that "pop" had genuine significance and meaning... the victory of industry over inspiration as its message. Part of its sinister nature is that it claims both the zenith and the nadir of the effect of its own intentions.
At the time there seemed no way to escape the ethos of its surface, its wide pastiche reach. Then, it all just disappeared... leaving us with Sophia Coppola's films to explain to us what we all had experienced, or somehow missed out on.