everything does feel different

There's just something about this new results-oriented user interface that's quite simply changed my life. I don't mind coming into work anymore.

music crit realness

So anyone who knows me well knows I love reading music criticism. I almost like it more than actually listening to music. I get into the snarky, academic stuff as much as the next guy (pitchfork, anyone?), but sometimes, just telling me how the new Ghostface made you feel can be more effective than, say, a circuitous relating of the artist's vocal stylings to Foucault's metaphysics.

Case in point: an informal review of a Deerhoof album by Buddy Bell "Bud" from (who I think is like 15) on Amazon--I love how he gets at that empowering, prozac-like quality that music can have--check it out:

I just played Milk Man in the ears while I rode a bike around my neighborhood. I can't remember the last time I'd done that. Today's Sunday; I'd bought the album just the last Friday. I was bored and stuck in my house with no idea of what to do with the time. With it still being sunny outside, I grabbed my red hooded zip-up and my seven-year old brother's zorro hat and jumped on the old one-speed bike i hadn't picked up in years. As I got on the bike, i pressed play. Listening to it made me want to make a video to the title track with the video camera I haven't used nearly enough. Also while listening to it, I wanted to write a short manual on "how to get to know yourself better" or "how to gain some confidence", with the entire album being the 'soundtrack'. People that I wanted to talk to but hadn't in a long time seemed to now be very easy to talk to. Thinking of video footage to put to music wasn't as hard as it had been. The world was fun, and I was the king of it. I had chosen the roads with people out in their front yards to ride by so as to see the odd looks they'd give me. 'Giga Dance' was interrupted by an old friend's dad who was out in his front yard. He had talked about his musical ambitions (he being a 40 year-old guitarist who has a serious passion for AC/DC). We ended our conversation with him saying that I should come down and play music with him sometime. I had responded with 'I love to play music'. I went down the steep hill with the organ-ic main line of the song going. I rode through all of the neighborhood and still had the last half of the cd to get through. I got to my driveway and drove to the small field behind the shed. I passed the time by half riding, half kicking a soccer ball around in the field until my legs gave out and i fell in the patches of grass, with the moon being directly above me and 'Dream Wanderer's Tune' halfway thru. I thought about how perfect it would be to get with some friends that I haven't seen in a long time and make a film to the album.

In all, Milk Man had made me think, and I really wanted to put some action to what I had thought about.

I got home and called two people. They didn't answer, so I left messages.

They miss me?

Can someone explain the Rozerem sleep-aid They miss you ad campaign to me? For those in need of more context, the gentleman with his back to us is an insomniac. Lincoln and the beav inhabit his dreams -- "they miss" him because he's not sleeping (how then have they crossed over to his awakened, conscious state?). I don't know about y'all, but I must've missed that lecture in Jungian psych highlighting the Lincoln/beaver motif as a shared archetype of the collective subconscious.

I do, however, remember reading that Lincoln was known to have a recurring nightmare in which a family of beavers dismantled his boyhood home. I guess that would explain the uneasy look on his face.

I wish I took this photo..

...but I didn't. Almost looks like Rothko as a photographer. I would reference her blog but I don't want to get sued. Her photos are copyrighted and she might do a search and witness my shameless swagger-jacking of her shit right here. So if you want to know about a really cool photoblog, email me and I'll send you the link.