taste

i dont really have much to write about, but i figured i'd still squeeze in a post just for the shits and the giggles and the kicks and what not. i've been pretty busy at work. which i still havent gotten paid from and dont forsee any money for the next few months from but still meander on this risky little road because sometimes thats what you gotta do: just go on. dont stop. dont think too much about it. just move. find yourself moving. forward. whichever way that may be.

i played my friend this psychedelic prog-rock song by early era, pre-new age synthesizer laden blade runner soundtrack Vangelis. he thought it was the biggest slice of cheese shit he'd ever heard in his life. i think its pretty good. i could feel myself in a car on an empty highway going somewhere far, listening to that song and letting my arm hang out the window, catching air with my hand, happy and serene and peaceful. ready for mystery.

he said i had reached new depths of crappiness. that i was becoming a middle age white dude before i reached middle age and even though i'm black. maybe i have. maybe i am.

but i can hear a song and where its place is. when it should be played and heard. i can feel exactly where i would be and the sensations i would go through, when that song sounded like it should.

i can be anywhere. i can be at a party on the middle of the dancefloor or lying in a dirty motel room with a hooker and a hangover. i can be on a beach holding a drink with an umbrella in it, or standing on a corner in the pouring rain. i can be sprawled out on a rug in front of a fire or in a fight in an alley, getting the shit beat out of me. i can be falling in love. i can be breaking up. i can be in flight. i can be anywhere doing anything, and have the perfect song to play.

sometimes i misread a tune, and the saddest song in the world will remind me of the best time i've ever had.

but mostly i can hear the place that the song is. i can dig it for what it is. mostly.

some songs are just crap. crimes against your ears. they should never be played. anywhere. ever. i wouldnt say i was an expert on music, because im not. who really is? but i know when i like a tune. i dont need anyone to tell me whats good, and i dont care if someone thinks a song i like is a large, curdled, turd of jack and gorgozola. i know what sounds good to me. and thats something to be said kids.

anyway, i got the song from this site, which is an excellent source of obscure rock tunes along the same vein.

oh yeah, and this made me laugh. Death metal, ironically enough, is hilarious.

its kinda like when i stumbled across this blog that was bitterly racist, because they had a post trying to explain how they'd found "scientific proof" that nordic women were the best looking women in the world, proof which is immediately debunked by the country of brazil, by the way, and were specifically picking on indian women. posting pictures of various hindu starlets and models in the comments section and shit [of which he had an astonishing count of 437, mostly of bitter white men saying "right on" and "white power" and what not].

anyway, so im reading through all this shit, dumbfounded by the idiocy of it all, because the pictures they were posting of indian women were HOT. and this is where the irony happened. wait for it. wait for it....

eventually i just started trolling his site for pictures of hot indian chicks. i spent HOURS there.

when i got to the final pic i left a comment: "please post more pics of hot indian chicks. i havent come yet"

i dont know how he reacted to that, i havent checked back. but i thought of that episode because of how ironic it is that death metal is funny to me. see, i tied that up neatly didnt i?

i found another funny on the internets, an endless goldmine of funny crap. its a news parody. a funny one. watch it.

i also found some interesting blogs one night while raping snooze's link list. she has some clever friends. which is expected, being the clever gal that she is and all. i'll post them later, when i have even less to say.