Beautiful Freak: the inverted golden ratio
2003-08-15 - 11:28 p.m.
this begins the philosophy of fine things. so it is with cigarettes, that there are an infinite combination of ways in which they can be put together, and a number of different packages they can be sold in, each with it�s own special significance to the schemas of the human psyche. so it is also with wines, but more so because age must also be considered, and an older wine is not by default a better one. in both of the above cases, each tiny difference is palpable to 7million different diodes, but the mind does not recognize each as separate until experience is gained. it is more so, with cigarettes and wine, because these are harsh substances on a body, and thus these differences are at first blocked out, and then seen as exaggerated versions thereof [vis. operating upon a broader gambit of �umph�]. whereupon receiving the experience, it is not that you appreciate the cigarettes themselves, but that you appreciate the subtleties between the different type/brand/constituents/methods-of-construction. you can tell what one tastes like based on the difference it contains from another, until you reach the first, and you couldn�t tell what you thought about it at all. thus, the first taste is always special, but ambiguous, because as you add more tastes, the first taste gains a different taste, as it is recategorized and reevaluated by the tastes that follow. so it is the way with fine things. so it is too, with people, when you first-glance-meet 300+ of the critters a day.
feeding the ducks at the gas station, dropping bread to lead them out of the parking lot and onto the grass where they wont get run over so easily. just enough stubble on my face to cast a shadow at a distance. smoking a cigarette and tossing bits of bread, i get the feeling that i am exactly what i look like, and i am extremely like a gas station employee.
the current picture on my background is �teacher�s pet� by some official graphical art student. the apple she holds out toward the viewer is in full colour, while the rest of the picture is black and white and/or blank. looking at it a little closer, i see that the apple is defective (dents), as if to suggest that the girl is defective too. i�m probably reading too much out of the picture, which is fine as long as it is realized that the readings seen from the picture are not necessarily the concepts of the author, and thus the insights gained from the art cannot be attributed to the art, even though aspects of the insight may be found in the art (a misstep of many amateur connoisseurs of life, commonly known as �reading into�) in the pigeon philosophy, the insight is greater/higher than the art.
August12. live music on Larkin street in Albany after work, a friend of Chris�s who was opening for some folky band. her name was Jess-something, and the lyrics left something to be edited, but she really put her heart, herself, into the music. just a grand piano and some singing on the second level of a bar�it�s amazing what some people can do with so little.
ideas for songs. if i was a musician, and you took out all the music, my live performance might go something like this �hi, i�m not actually a musician. i�m just an easily confused person, and i woke up one morning, and i was *this*. So hopefully that explains that. this first song is called �Kitchen Utensils� and it�s a rather high-pitched documentary on all those weird tools you have in your kitchen, but never really use, and no one knows who invented them or what their true purpose is. so here goes�this next one is about masturbation. whoa, don�t get too exited there. it�s not really about masturbation, so much as it is about the time in between, especially those fifteen-or-so seconds you think about it before you begin, when you�re wondering �do i have enough time before i have to go to work� and getting the order right �jack-off-shower-eat�, and wondering where the next closest person is, and hoping they won�t notice, you know, that sorta stuff�third song tonight is about a guy who looks for love in an unconventional manner, i�ll call him Ralf. so Ralf tries to pick up chicks at restaurants, fast food joints, drive-in movies. those places where you could still sitting down in your car, when you meet someone. maybe Ralf had a bum leg, who knows. anyway, it�s called �Driving Through��this next song was inspired by my older sister, and her fascination with school buses. she got over it eventually, just a stage all kids go through i guess, but before she did, she wrote the chorus to this song, �Flat Bus��you know how whistling is like, it�s own language, man? and how, like, if you couldn�t whistle, you wouldn�t be able to speak it, but even if you couldn�t whistle, you could understand it? well, this one�s all about that secret language of the talented parts of mankind, and it�s called �If I Could Whistle��that was Ricky Mason on the kazoo ladies and gentlemen!�this song is entitled �The Hole Roman Empire� and it�s about the Romans, and how gay they all were, and how insane it must have been, to live in a time period where the really manly men were the ones who wore crowns made out of flowers�this next one is dedicated to one of those lost-love situations, and all those people that still feel like they�re in that situation, five years later. It�s called �Anniversary of the Death of Love�, and it�s on the Spinal Staircase Soundtrack�this one�s about an alien named Jake, with a dream. You see, Jake wants to be a rockstar, but there aren�t any rockstars on his home planet, so he goes elsewhere. And this is his epic journey to our little planet earth�this song is about one of those really hot Japanese girls, and well, the song speaks for itself. it�s called �Oso Wong�. here we go�alright, so we�ve got time for just one more song, that time of night, eh? it just so happens that my best friend is one of the few humans in existence that doesn�t have a belly button. no really, he uhm, had his belly button surgically removed a couple years ago, and still, i�m not- quite sure what to think about it. sometimes i make fun of him, and at other times, i just feel sad, because he can�t do all those things that people with belly buttons can do. it�s like a hanicap, almost. so this song is dedicated to him in the hopes that he will one day be reunited with his belly button (at least in a spiritual sense) and it�s called �Navel Warfare�. oh and before i start, i just want to suggest closing your eyes for this one, because it deals with a fair quantity anatomical instructions which may be kind of hard to imagine�thank you, thank you. all those songs can be found on the �Monophone Voice� CD, which are being sold in front of the front and rear emergency exit doors. you�ve been a great audience, i love playing here, excreta, excreta.'
August14. worked with Rick tonight (the older, previously undetailed, rather sketchy employee), (who has a parole officer), (and has a thing for girls one-third his age, though he may not be sixty yet). stayed up into the early morning cradling my burned hand (first degree with two little spots of second degree, due to too much clumsiness being mixed with a coffee brewing machine) and thinking of ways i could kill him at work. lots of glass in the cooler, and a rotary fan that keeps the freezer cold, just the right size and height for his head to fit in. boxcutters applied to the cartilage of the ears, nerves to either side of the spine, and his ligaments at every major joint. went to sleep to the thought of {i can't wait to staple his eyeballs shut}.
Sister: "Alright, so i'm having this debate with [Sister�s boyfriend] ...would you be mad at a girl if she wouldn't put out? I mean if she was, like, your girlfriend?"
Me: "*pause*...well, i guess it depends on what she put in."
August15. business was pretty much as usual. (for future reference, this is the day the eastern seaboard lost power)
Neologism: badoink. not quite the word for the definition i was looking for. must think up a new word to fit the following definition. the former definition for this word will be in another entry, soon as i think of a new word to fit to it.
