Monday, February 14, 2005
dust had all settled on the dancefloor...
Ah, the joys of a good nights rest and good Texas music. Everything is feeling really reframed, and the dumber of my roommates two cats just jumped into my closet, and seems to be stuck. Oh wait, that's me...
Anyhow, now that this holding pattern has rescued me from both the divine and the circumspect, it seems a good time to consolidate for a bit before continuing onward. As per usual, I have let the mundane become the complex, and in doing so triggered a whole torrent of foolish ideas, most of which will take some time to explore before eventually discarding, but perhaps the stroke of inspiration is still smoldering under the refuse. Maybe we should call this "precipice" time, because it is kind of funny (not to mention disturbing) to see life like this, and secondly, because the constant tension of thought and action is what seems to drive the whole game. Tension. I am reminded of Phil Ochs' half joke in the monolog leading into "Ringing of Revolution." Hmm, will anybody have heard that dinosaur? I doubt it, but you never know, there are still a few of us Ochs fans out there.
Seemed to have wandered tangentially again. Oh well, things are good this morning, and hopefully, there will soon be something new here to enjoy. In what has become a far too frequent occurrence, the fucking Columbians invaded again this weekend. I fail to see how anyone can claim ignorance or innocence, but I suppose there are still those too ephemeral to reach out and touch the invasion before it withdraws, as it always does. There, that is loyalty! Got me? Well, maybe not, but the point is that as long as bare expectations are fulfilled, even temporarily, what can you do but hold on and enjoy it? Well, the rain is falling and I want to feel it hit my face for a while. Until later, you know the drill. Don't take ALL the drugs, leave some for the rest of us. Here's to the Pats, the Sox, and every other conceivable addiction. But no more Vicodin. Give it to the other cripples, and let them enjoy it.
cf
Anyhow, now that this holding pattern has rescued me from both the divine and the circumspect, it seems a good time to consolidate for a bit before continuing onward. As per usual, I have let the mundane become the complex, and in doing so triggered a whole torrent of foolish ideas, most of which will take some time to explore before eventually discarding, but perhaps the stroke of inspiration is still smoldering under the refuse. Maybe we should call this "precipice" time, because it is kind of funny (not to mention disturbing) to see life like this, and secondly, because the constant tension of thought and action is what seems to drive the whole game. Tension. I am reminded of Phil Ochs' half joke in the monolog leading into "Ringing of Revolution." Hmm, will anybody have heard that dinosaur? I doubt it, but you never know, there are still a few of us Ochs fans out there.
Seemed to have wandered tangentially again. Oh well, things are good this morning, and hopefully, there will soon be something new here to enjoy. In what has become a far too frequent occurrence, the fucking Columbians invaded again this weekend. I fail to see how anyone can claim ignorance or innocence, but I suppose there are still those too ephemeral to reach out and touch the invasion before it withdraws, as it always does. There, that is loyalty! Got me? Well, maybe not, but the point is that as long as bare expectations are fulfilled, even temporarily, what can you do but hold on and enjoy it? Well, the rain is falling and I want to feel it hit my face for a while. Until later, you know the drill. Don't take ALL the drugs, leave some for the rest of us. Here's to the Pats, the Sox, and every other conceivable addiction. But no more Vicodin. Give it to the other cripples, and let them enjoy it.
cf
