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11 October 2007
My boss has put on an eighties radio station. Shoot me now.
Can't you Fixx it? Is there no Cure? If she's playing 80's tunes INXS and you can't stop the Madness, you and your cow-orkers should just get in The Cars and Go-Go. Otherwise-- WHAM!-- you might Squeeze her Heart until she can't Breathe, and then you'll have to run to Europe to escape the Warrant.
On the highway is right! I've been drivin' all night, my hands wet on the wheel. There's a voice in my head that drives my heel. It's my baby calling, says "I need you here." It's half-past four and I'm shifting gears.
Is that what's making me dizzy? My sensibilities are shaken by the slightest defect. I live my life like a canary in a coalmine. I get so dizzy even walking in a straight line.
Why ask, Atom Eyes? They'll tell you lie, lies, lies, ye-ah. Lie, lies, lies, ye-ah.
Not me, though. Would I lie to you? Would I lie to you, honey? Now would I say something that wasn't true? I'm asking you, sugar ---- would I lie-ie-ie to you?
Pissing down rain on a boring wednesday, watching the news and not eating your tea, a freezing cold flat with damp on the walls. That's entertainment. That's entertainment.
I was riding on the metro -- on a downtown train -- and someone came up behind me as said "Don't turn around -- Der Kommissar's in town." I said "hush hush; voices carry," but I turned around (bright eyes) and he was gone, baby gone.
So I got off at Electric Avenue and realized that somebody's watching me. Maybe it was somebody to love me. He trailed me for awhile, whistling "Hungry Like the Wolf" ("I'm on a hunt, I'm after you") so I ducked into an alley, got out my gun and fired a shot to the heart. Another one bites the dust.
And you may find yourself posting on MetaChat
And you may find yourself in another part of the Web
And you may find yourself behind the keys of a large Lenovo Thinkpad
And you may find yourself in a beautiful hotspot, with beautiful wifi
And you may ask yourself - well...how did I get here?
We've know each other for so long
Your heart's been aching
But you're too shy to say it
Inside we both know what's been going on
We know the game and we're gonna play it
Letting the posts go by / let mathowie hold me down
Letting the threads go by / quonsar going underground
Into the blue again/after the 5-bucks' gone
Once in a MeFi / cortex going overboard.
And you may ask yourself
How do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that Apple Powerbook?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my corner Starbucks!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wifi!
Same as it ever was... double post... same as it ever was... Pepsi Blue... same as it ever was... NewsFilter... same as it ever was... self-linking...
ooh, but now she's gone
And I'm back on the beat
A stain on my notebook
Says nothing to me
Now she's gone
And I'm out with a friend
With lips full of passion
And coffee in bed
You guys..I just want you all to know that I'm happy to be stuck with you and that we'll live forever knowing together that we did it all for the glory of love.
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Am I right? ... no, you're wrong!
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My FSM!...what have I done?
Letting the posts go by / let jessamyn hold me down
Letting the threads go by / stavros going wonderchicken
Into the grey again/after the bunnyfire
Under the rocks and stones/a plate of beans is overthought.
Letting the posts go by / let the cabal hold me down
Letting the threads go by / Bligh going Ephereal
Into the green again/after the mods have gone to sleep
Once in a MeFi / Twice on #bunnies irc.
Same as it ever was... it will not wendell... same as it ever was... it will not wendell... same as it ever was... it will not wendell... same as it ever was... it will not wendell...
...and how could we forget the greatest musical talent to come out of the 1980s (who continues to delight ME even now)...
Got to work late 'cause my alarm was busted
The boss chewed me out and everybody's disgusted
'Cause it's one of those days, it's just one of those days
I lost one of my socks in the drier
I can't find my wallet and my hair is on fire
I just wrapped my Cadillac around a tree
A big swarm of locusts is following me
There's not even anything good on TV
It's just one of those days
That's all, it's just one of those days
Left all my Beatles records out in the sun
Got a Coke bottle stuck on the end of my tongue
The nazis tied me up and covered me with ants
And I spilled toxic waste on my brand new pants
The bank called me up and told me I'm overdrawn
Some freaks are burnin' crosses out on my front lawn
And I can't believe it, all the Cheetos are gone
It's just one of those days
Never mind, it's just one of those days
A 747 crashed into my den
And there's nothin' but tater-tots for dinner again
Big steamroller just ran over my mom
And I cut myself shaving and they're dropping the bomb
Then late at night, just before I go to bed
The world blows up and now everybody's dead
You just can't deny it, it's just like I said
Just, just one of those, one of those days
Just one of those, one of those days
- Weird Al Yankovic, 1986, from the album "Polka Party"
Occhi, don't tell me you don't know what love is, when you're old enough to know better --- when you're finding strange hands in your sweater. I'm giving you a longing look. Every day, every day, every day, every day I write the book.
*corners jonmc to ask about the politics of dancing, the politics of ooooo feeling good.*
(I feel slightly off since I've chosen to quote some of the few good songs to invade the top 40 in that dreary decade, but let's go crazy, let's get nuts...)
But is this burning an eternal flame?
No. It's as cold as ice, and willing to sacrifice...
I've chosen to quote some of the few good songs to invade the top 40 in that dreary decade
Admittedly, most of the stuff I remember from the 80s will never get played on a mass-market 80s station.
So the public gets what the public wants, but I want nothing this society's got. I'm going underground, (going underground) where the brass bands play and feet start to pound, going underground (going underground) were the boys all scream and the boys all shout... for tomorrow.
(heh, just looking at that Georgia Satellites quote a few comments back makes me remember what a breath of fresh air the Stonesy raunch of that record was amid a sea of synthpop and faux-metal.)
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ.
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ.
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ.
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ.
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ.
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ.
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ.
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ.
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ.
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ.
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ.
Hang the DJ, hang the DJ.
I realized that about two minutes later. My error! Nonetheless,
Oh, baby, refrain from busting my chops breaking my heart.
I'm so in love with you. I'll be forever blue that you give me no reason why you're making me work so hard, that you give me no that you give me no that you give me no that you give me no soul! I hear you calling me. Oh, baby, pleeeeeeeease, give a little respect to me.
*Elsa doubles over laughing for the first time in the whole thread.*
Love is a stranger in an open car, to tempt you in and drive you far away.
That might be me. Been driving, Detroit leaning, no reason --- just seems so pleasing. Gonna make you, make you, make you notice. Gonna use my arms, gonna use my legs. Gonna use my style, gonna use my sidestep. Gonna use my fingers.
Ah, but Air Supply had a very similar song, also produced by Jim Steinman, at about the same time. "Making Love out of Nothing At All?" I think that's its title.
These are mere physiological details. Artistically, they are indistinguishable.
Here come Dick, he's wearing a skirt. Here comes Jane, y'know she's sporting a chain. Same hair, revolution; Same build, evolution. Tomorrow who's gonna fuss?
She's taking what they're giving 'cause she's working for a living. She works hard for the money, so hard for it, honey; she works hard for the money, so you better treat her right.
Another thing coming? Hell, I'm on a bus on a psychedelic trip, reading murder books and trying to stay hip. A little later, I plan to hang out by the state line turning holy water into wine. I'm bringing it down.
You wouldn't be turning holy water into red wine, would you? Red red wine? It's up to you. All I can do, I've done. Mem'ries won't go. No, mem'ries won't go. I just wish I had Jesse's girl. Where can I find a woman like that?
Your problems might arise from not even trying to give a little bit of heart and soul, or to give a little bit of love to grow. Give a little bit of heart and soul, and don't you make me beg for love. Give a sign 'cos' I need to know. Give a little bit of heart and soul.
Far beneath the ship, the world is mourning. They don't realize he's alive. No one understands, but Major Tom sees. "Now the light commands this is my home; I'm coming home."
Didn't you know, hellbient? She had to leave Los Angeles. She found it hard to say farewell to her own best friend. She bought a clock on Hollywood Boulevard the day she left. It felt sad. It felt sad. It felt
So I ran down and I said, in her good ear, "Debbie, why'd you do it?" She raised her head, smiled, and said "I--I did it for Johnny." "Johnny? Well, like, who's Johnny? Answer me, Debbie, who's Johnny? Does anybody here know Johnny? Are you Johnny?" There was one guy named Johnny but he was a total geek, he always had food in his braces. "Answer me, Debbie, who's Johnny?" Oh God this is like that movie Citizen Kane, you know where you later find out Rosebud was a sled? But we'll never know who Johnny was because, like, she's dead.
Ms. Cristina, on the other hand, drives a nine four four. Satisfaction oozes from her pores. She keeps rings on her fingers, marble on her floor, cocaine on her dresser, bars on her doors. She keeps her back against the wall.
So I say welcome. Welcome to the boomtown. Pick a habit - we got plenty to go around. Welcome! Welcome to the boomtown. All that money makes such a succulent sound...
Waitaminnit, kirkaracha; I remember. A girl called Johnny: black as hell, white as a ghost? "Don't talk about life and death," she said. "I've had enough of both."
Lindsay was my first love, she was in my class; Nora was my girl when I first was in a group; Deborah broke my heart and I, the willing fool; The home I made with Bella became a house of pain; Krista was a rover, from Canada she hailed; I send them my love, with a bang on the ear.
You kids and your love. No can do. I'm never gonna fall for modern love (walks beside me), modern love (walks on by), modern love, gets me to the church on time.
I ducked into an alley, got out my gun and fired a shot to the heart.
Shot through the heart, and you're to blame! You give love a bad name. Or maybe no one ever is to blame. I'm a man without conviction. I'm a man who doesn't know how to sell a contradiction. You come and go, you come and go, but there is always something there to remind me, so don't you forget about me.
awww. That looks like that's it, doesn't it? Time to unplug the jukebox and do us all a favour. That music's lost its taste, so try another flavour (antmusic!).
photo by splunge
photo by TheophileEscargot
photo by Kronos_to_Earth
photo by ethylene
