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Liebeslied (Ger.): A dear or favorite song [18 Feb 2005|11:45pm]
[ mood | calm ]

I'm taking this journal out of action - the new LJ will be Liebslied.
You should recognize it.

As a means of just getting everything in order, I need to cut this journal off and go back to something that is more true to myself. Yes, even the name. If you get me.

I imported a lot of the old entries to the new one. It's ... strange, seeing the sort of journey we've taken in just a year. Everyone. We don't comment, nowadays, as much as we did, and many of you I don't even get to talk to much anymore. It's incredibly superfluous to hope for a return to how things were, but maybe this is a step to getting things back.

So. Add the new one. If you don't wish to add it, please at least tell me.

3 Credits| Insert Credits

[17 Feb 2005|10:13pm]
[ mood | Scattered ]

I should kill this journal. Maybe get a new one.

Sometimes your day can just turn around and switch at the end of it. Maybe someone can switch and that'll do it for the day.
I can't do much more of this work. If I weren't afraid of grades I'd be asleep.

I thought I was through with this shit and it just turns around. I need a good weekend to prove it otherwise. Probably that's just a momentary distraction.
I need to be reading right now.

Tonight is the first time I've listened to KMFDM's 'Angst' since I was in high school. That's pretty rediculous. It probably means something. I loved that album. Do you remember those times?

Insert Credits

[17 Feb 2005|12:34am]
[ mood | weird ]

Possibly the best way to serve Jim Morrison's corpse is with a healthy dose of barbecue sauce. You're going to need it to cut through the naturally sour disposition of the dude, because I will tell you what - 40-year-old Heroin plus putrefaction doesn't make the best marinade, so you're gonna need some heavy surface seasoning.
Now, Kurt Cobain - hell. I don't even know where to begin, the dude was a pretty tough chew in life. Best start off with some heavy lemon and vinegar - gotta bring back some of that protein, you know - and then baste the son of a bitch in a vodka/cinnamon sauce. The bastard could use some sweetening, and this trick worked awesomely on John Denver's incredibly desicated cadaver.


Oh, yea. Hey. Read this, it is beautifully topical.

Since it does not violate the quiz embargo:

Name Game.

You know the drill:

[01] Your Name.
[02] I describe what band and/or song fits you.
[03] In which I describe the celebrity, living/dead, real/fictitious, that reminds me of you.
[04] I find a word to describe thee.
[05] Rinse and repeat amongst friends.
25 Credits| Insert Credits

A Secret Level. [15 Feb 2005|11:38pm]
[ mood | weird ]

I write this due to the bizarre coincidence having just finished reading Murakami:Collapse )

Secret Stage Complete.

Possibly I should put this on here. Possibly YOU should be there.

3 Credits| Insert Credits

You don't need to send messages to communicate the truth. [15 Feb 2005|10:11pm]
[ mood | content ]

I just finished Murakami's 'The Wind-up Bird Chronicle', possibly the best (at least most humanly personable) book that I have read yet.
It is fitting, I think, that I've been reading it on and off since about last September. A lot of things have changed, since then, about myself and just things in general. These are fitting things, considering the book.

I know I've stated as such every time I finish one of the books, but I love how Murakami's books are effective only in this dreamlike manner. They long to communicate these human truths with the same intensity of the characters' own longings, but at the same time acknowledge that only through these dreamlike emissions can you explain or confront such things. It's sort of sad, but you always feel sort of triumphantly content when you finish them.
The ends of his books are like finishing an album someone you love gave to you as a personal gift. You can't replay the album because just playing it once does it, no matter how good it was and no matter how much you like hearing it. You can't play it immediately, and it's so hard to follow with something, but just knowing that it has that effectiveness can't leave you anything but content.
Yes, I am rambling a bit now.

I have to go work on a Linguistics term paper but, dammit, right now I greatly need to just take a week to listen to Death in June or Bloodsport or Godspeed or something, and read more Murakami. Or maybe some Bukowski or Junger.

Insert Credits

R.I.P. [12 Feb 2005|10:37pm]
[ mood | annoyed ]

The day really didn't at all deserve to end in shit, yet it did. The positive parts first:

You can generally tell a good day when it starts as rainy as it did. Maybe this is some sort of personal superstition, but it is always a sign. Hell, maybe nothing good has even happened on a non-rainy day and I didn't notice, who can say.
Onward:
The VNSA Booksale. Fantastic year! The building smelled like cat piss, and we got rained on pretty heavily in the pre-dawn hours, but it was fantastic. I got a stack of old gaming mags, for starters. I nabbed an 8-pound edition of Gray's Anatomy for goddamn 5 dollars, as well as a medical dictionary (for fun) and just a ton of science fiction and classical literature - Kafka, Camus, Tolstoy, Heinlein, Nabokov, Herbet, et cetera. And fucking Pong for the Playstation.
So, it was a fantastic celebration of literature. I'm set for a while, for sure.
Though I still hate how people snatch a ton of books cause they're cheap.
Then:
IPC's show at Minder Binder's. All I can really say is that they put up well with what they had, though honestly they have had a lot better shows. And then I'll start bitching:
So, hecklers. I can assuredly say that, more than anything, the show reminded me why 96% of anyone related with "punk" anything are cunts. Just a tip, guys: if you've been screaming about the 'revolution' for the past 30 goddamn years, bet you it isn't going to happen. Quit looking for a reason to be different at the mall. Fuck.

Yea, I know the other 4%, thanks. It is nice to see that rare sincerity.

The other thing was that my computer decided to die, today, because of Windows, so I'll spare you The Nerding by saying that it made me upset. And now my papers due day after tomorrow are gone, so I have to go back early, thank you all for the weekend it was swell. Goodnight.

Insert Credits

[08 Feb 2005|10:36pm]
[ mood | I have no idea ]

I think part of the problem is that I haven't really listened to Motorhead for at least a few months. Fucking pathetic.

Obviously that isn't the half of it, but. Damn. The box set doesn't even have any scratches on it yet. I need a turntable.

I wish I could explain things to you better, but it's too hard to know what to say when you don't know what the fuck you're thinking.

Write that down.

Insert Credits

On Being Stereotypical [08 Feb 2005|11:25am]
[ mood | worried ]

Once again, sorry about the incessant angst melodrama, but. You can't really bullshit this sort of thing without dragging everyone under with those 'Oh Em Gee What I did today' things. It is symptomatic, maybe. Maybe it needs to be put on hold again.

Anyhow. I'm thinking that maybe some different music is in order. If you've got anything to recommend, do so. Or send it to me. That'd be even better.

And I'm thinking I need a bit more videogaming escapism, though maybe that's a bit too symptomatic, too.

Nothing new here, I guess. Move along.

10 Credits| Insert Credits

Und wir konnte sein Helden - für diesem Tag [05 Feb 2005|09:17pm]
[ mood | calm ]

VNSA Booksale - February 12th and 13th
8:AM to Whenever
Arizona State Fairgrounds


So, the annual VNSA booksale is coming around.
I cannot underestimate how much I love this booksale. It is unbelievable cheap - as I would imagine you all know, since, you know. You're the lot that keeps track of that sort of thing (and I love you for it.)
And the selection is without compare.

I love the sale - it is sort-of the start of the New Year to me. Like some sort of psuedo-Chinese New Year. Call it the start of the Ozz Year, I don't know.
It is what started making last year pretty triumphant. Years without the booksale suck (see: 2003).
This year, though, I don't have a ride on Saturday.

SO. I need one of you awesome droogies to accompany me to this most triumphant of booksales and I need to do it EARLY (6:00 AM) so that we can get in early and nab all the good stuff.
I'll cover some of your expenses if you do AND I will appreciate you times three.
See you there.

FORTUNE COOKIE OF THE DAY
"If there is a will there is a way."

I don't really want to hear that right now. But maybe I needed to? Who can know - aside from the ancient wisdom of the Chinese, that is?
9 Credits| Insert Credits

[01 Feb 2005|09:01pm]
[ mood | calm ]

I am interrupting the suspension for these important messages:

Satan Wants You Dead

Seriously, though. Robyn is doing this breast cancer marathon .. thing. It is important, you see. It is important because it's fucking cancer. So. Since I love me some Robyn and since I hate me some cancer (rabidly, since it owes me a cool grandmother) you should probably donate/contribute/spread the word/what have you.

I mean, come on. It's fucking cancer.

Yes, that is all for a while.

Insert Credits

More. [27 Jan 2005|09:16pm]
[ mood | awake ]

I should add that a good contribution to the day was made by finishing a short story collection by Murakami.

Murakami is excellent because his stories will kick you hard in the gut simply on the basis of how normal and everyday everything that happens is. The stories use the Kobe Earthquake as a background, but only as contrast to the personal tumult that each character experiences. Things you and I feel.
It is the tumult, the longing to know yourself, that makes the stories hit you for just that reason. It's being uncertain about where you're going.
It's hard to explain, but that's really the point.

Just a thought.

2 Credits| Insert Credits

[27 Jan 2005|08:11pm]
[ mood | calm ]

Fantastic weather can do a number on improving the day, as was the case with the cloud cover this morning. Maybe it is just the irregular rarity of cloudy or rainy days, but it is easily the cheeriest thing to see when waking up.
You knew that, though.
Contact with friends helps a lot, too. I think that makes a lot of the difference, and I'm sure you've heard plenty enough about all of that.
I got a fortune cookie the other day that claims that I'll be visited by an old friend. I hope very much that it is true!

Worst case scenario, I am visited by the Ghost of Stalin/Christmas Past. I mean, that's still a winning situation. But I'd rather one of you droogies.

Ignorance or actual progress, my classes are becoming less depressing/threatening. I dislike them, but they've been less loathsome these past few days. For now.

See you soon.

Insert Credits

[26 Jan 2005|03:21pm]
[ mood | drained ]

But, on to more important things:

Out of necessity and a longing for comfort, I will be having a 'Better Off Bill & Ted' weekend. Better Off Dead and Bill & Ted back-to-back.
Would you like to join? We could get some coffee and just comfort out. Settle in. The laptop's all we have for showing, but it could work. I don't know. Cashmir blanket, at least.

I don't know what to do about ASU or UA or college or getting a job or writing or what.

Anyway, good idea earlier: We should start a Thrash Metal band and call it Flamethrower.
Who's in?

6 Credits| Insert Credits

[25 Jan 2005|11:30am]
I can't do this for another semester.
Just a thought.
9 Credits| Insert Credits

Tempting! [22 Jan 2005|08:07pm]
[ mood | worried ]

I swung by the bookstore the other day, because I had to, and ended up nabbing some Nietzsche, more Murakami, Njal's Saga, and some Kerouac, because I wanted to.
So I guess I'll have to be going all the way with reading lately. Not so much of a problem, I guess. What else is left here that is good for you? Good for you indefinitely? Not much. Books are the only things you can hope to hold and understand that are not in turn terribly disdainful and constantly, fleetingly tempting. And wilily unattainable.
There ARE books that are full of themselves, but. You know.

So, yes. Anyway. The Murakami book is a short story collection inspired by the Kobe, Japan Quake of '95. Quick breeze of a book, for me it is a break from the other Murakami bit. It's good, though, for being so .. fitting, I guess, in depicting the fragility of everyday living.

The Nietzsche bit, I've barely started. It's Nietzsche, though, so it should be a treat. Bit of work to get through, but a treat no less.

I guess now would be a good time to direct you here. See, this is the kind of nerdiness that is actually worthwhile.

1 Credit| Insert Credits

[20 Jan 2005|10:29pm]
[ mood | listless ]

Yea, it was THAT day again, but it is ending alright due to the guitar soloing in this Necrophagist song. Your stereotyped misconceptions can go get fucked; death metal is the most Technical of the Species. Just look at Death.

Do you ever think that maybe your music is bad luck? Like maybe your persistent love of a form of musical expression redirects karma against your will?
Sometimes, I think it does. That's why everything is kept varied. That's part of the reason that everything is kept varied; it is also because I want to avoid getting bored hearing the same flavor of something over and over, like constantly eating the same fruit. Oranges are such good friends all the time, but sometimes, don't you know, you need the Potassium from old friend banana.
So why would music generate bad luck? Because moving music becomes so involving that it becomes associated with the day-to-day? Possibly. What do you do, though, if said music is one of few things you can really love from day to day? It doesn't seem fair. Either it screws things over or things screw it over for you. Hell.

I played a game, earlier, and I want to write fiction about it based upon what I saw. I want to write fiction about a race of vampiric space-faring felines, right, that the hero goes about destroying ... because. The felinic cosmonauts must be cleaned out because, when you are hurdling through the infinite vastness of cosmic vacuum, what else can be done except make yourself the only race doing it? Hell.

Insert Credits

[18 Jan 2005|10:39pm]
[ mood | HELL! ]

We don't need a summary of the day, you've already heard the story before. I guess it is standard procedure to have some terribly depressing day to kind of warm up for the rigors of a semester of shit.
It just keeps a lot of work from getting done. Day four and I'm already not doing homework. Take last semester, remove the effective and/or not-moronic teachers, and just increase the fucking workload. And increase disinterest. This semester is going to be a fucking treat.

You know the coffee is even tasting like onions?

Well, hell. There was a Volume Duel in the hall today. One and a half songs and they were done. I guess there's that, at least.
Make my walls vibrate with Malltallica? Sorry guys, you know your place.

Insert Credits

Run to the Hills! [16 Jan 2005|02:44am]
[ mood | Victorious ]

'The Number of the Beast', a song that Iron Maiden released as a single in 1982, entered the UK charts at #1 and stayed there for several weeks.
'The Number of the Beast', a song that Iron Maiden rereleased as a single a week ago to commemorate their monumental 25th Anniversary, has entered the UK charts at #3.

What a fantastic time to be reliving.

This is exactly the kind of thing I've always been talking about.
So lacking is the modern world of music that it still pales in comparison to the heroes of old.

20 years since the golden age and our side is still going strong. For a good fucking reason.

This is the kind of thing that ends up being important.

Insert Credits

Back in The Village again. [11 Jan 2005|11:14pm]
[ mood | contemplative ]

Ok, I'm going to do this properly.
I've moved back to Tucson as of earlier today. I can't say there was so much of a transition, really; I just got back, tossed my stuff down, organized what needed to be, then just sort of sat down. What now? I was already bored, so I left everything else as it was and visited AJ's dorm. Dinner, several rounds of Bushido Blade, and a full game of Metal Slug later, it was like coming back from the end of a school day that I didn't care about anyway. As I type this, already am I disinterested in going to class tomorrow. So, the transition was minimal and complete.

Yes, it still smells vaguely of vomit in here. Just lingering, not full on; it's like when you come into a room and know that someone was drinking coffee a while before, or that there was a girl using those wonderful lotions in the room before you showed up.

On the bright side: Much like passing on a family heirloom, or inheriting a family estate, I have been entrusted with the old Sony 5-disc CD Changer. It replaces the old old First-Generation single CD player which was, in turn, like a fifth family member; crusading through the ages, it endured the Alternative Rock flopping, bad Rush synth albums, etc. I can now Rock Out in a circular, mathematically pefect and infinitely enduring cycle. Do you understand why I find this exciting? It is like employing five albums of your own choosing to attain infinity.

That feeling is coming back already, though not as strong. We'll see, tomorrow.

Insert Credits

Sturmlied. [11 Jan 2005|12:48am]
[ mood | distressed ]

I've for the last hour or so had this bizarre foreboding sensation, like this sort of gnawing empty feeling. It is fear manifested through a lack of anything, maybe. I don't know. Possibly it is something to do with tomorrow, when I go back. I don't know.
There's more to write but I can't right now, and none of us need any more of this right now. Maybe that is the lesson.
See you later

11 Credits| Insert Credits

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