Friday, February 07, 2003
We sat down to eat dinner in front of the TV last night for the first time in a long time. Talk about timing. We tuned in just as the Michael Jackson, er, documentary came on. "The longest suicide note in history", one figure in the pop world dubbed it. The revelations themselves -- that Jacko loves to climb trees, spend millions on furniture, enjoys the (allegedly) platonic company of children in his bedroom, and is one weird-ass parent -- weren't as disturbing to me as how he looked. Not just the bizarre facial surgery that has left him (in the memorable words of one plastic surgeon) with an "endstage nose." He looked tired, weary, the way that one imagines immortals start to feel a thousand years into their existence.
The Guardian has an interesting take, arguing that in many ways Jackson is the logical outcome of Western values.
On a related note, I put three Gary Numan CDs on hold at the library. I have them all on vinyl but figured, what the hell. Some CDs you put on hold take forever to arrive -- "hot" bands like ...And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead or The Doves. The Numan CDs (Replicas [Ok, that's Tubeway Army but it's the same thing], The Pleasure Principle, and Telekon) showed up within a couple of days, so I guess Gary Numan isn't so hot in Seattle. Besides extra tracks there are extensive liner notes on each which is good for me since I've had this idea of making a Velvet Goldmine-like film about him. On Replicas, he talks about his image on the cover, dressed in black with bleached hair, and how he'd dreamed as a child of transforming into this figure. I remembered that on the walk to work as I was thinking about Michael Jackson.
The Guardian has an interesting take, arguing that in many ways Jackson is the logical outcome of Western values.
On a related note, I put three Gary Numan CDs on hold at the library. I have them all on vinyl but figured, what the hell. Some CDs you put on hold take forever to arrive -- "hot" bands like ...And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead or The Doves. The Numan CDs (Replicas [Ok, that's Tubeway Army but it's the same thing], The Pleasure Principle, and Telekon) showed up within a couple of days, so I guess Gary Numan isn't so hot in Seattle. Besides extra tracks there are extensive liner notes on each which is good for me since I've had this idea of making a Velvet Goldmine-like film about him. On Replicas, he talks about his image on the cover, dressed in black with bleached hair, and how he'd dreamed as a child of transforming into this figure. I remembered that on the walk to work as I was thinking about Michael Jackson.
Wednesday, February 05, 2003
I had a vivid dream last night. Every time I snoozed the alarm, from 7:30 to 8:15, I thought, I need to remember this dream. Of course, I've forgotten most of it. But here's what I remember: I was driving an SUV in Chicago. My passengers were Melle Mel, Law-School Laura, and Anna and/or Bob (I forget). We were driving through the city and all around us there were people protesting the coming war. There were protesters dressed in all white and protesters dressed in all black, and they were all sitting down, forming a gigantic, city-wide sit-in through which I was driving. At some point, to illustrate the terrible effects of war, the sitting protesters all flopped over so that they were lying down. In my dream, the sight of all these black and white prone bodies made me weep.
I'm not sure the significance of Chicago. I went there once when I was ten and all I remember is that it was cold. But Marla the Chicagoan did get mentioned at some point last night so maybe that was it.
I'm not sure the significance of Chicago. I went there once when I was ten and all I remember is that it was cold. But Marla the Chicagoan did get mentioned at some point last night so maybe that was it.
Monday, February 03, 2003
Breaking news: Phil Spector arrested for murder!
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]
