The Special Goodness in Doing Right

So it's mid-January and you thought about driving to that big old decrepit apple. YEAH RIGHT. It's youthful. But of course you drove to Moonstone instead. Jump down a big hill with bunch of metal beneath your feet and then fly back up again. Chug some coffee and breath in the fresh country air. Sit near a window for barely a bite out of your health food before a stranger makes herself comfortable and assures you that she is not a creep. Damn that cheeseburger is delicious. Have you ever heard of paperface? Re-discover Weezer, who have shit in your ears but also done nice things. Did you know that the drummer for Weezer can also play guitar? The Special Goodness is pretty alright. Pinkerton still has charm. The Blue Album will always be boss. Remember that forgetting about using effects and a pick when playing a bass isn't always one hundred percent better. Get your yell on.


So there's this place in the world called 'the old world' or something, and I figured shit yeah I'm gonna go walk around it and it will be completely mathematical. Glob temples and fight stations, stare walls, rot drinks, and cow tit fermentations, they all await. March 18th I'm going to stick my head in to a can of difference. Activities may include: using my feet to go somewhere new, using somebody else's knowledge to try something tasty, looking at somebody's hard work, stepping inside a burial chamber of Parisians, being awed by the haul of history collected by the plunderers, riding parellel steel fingers, jumping around, (maybe) yelling at the moon. It's 2013 baby!

Long after work

A new day in a new year, wrung in with old friends in an unexpected location. A furry creature who barks orders with conviction. A frozen homeland draped in a slushy cloud of malleable water-soaked possibilities. What promises did you make a night ago that were held off for calendrical reasons? Will you reckon with yourself in such a way as to effect the change desired by some portion of self? Or will you allow old forces to pummel you into slipping backwards again? Those ruts of desire run deep within the core of your experience.

An old tyrant emerges from the ashes of an inferno to claim possession of that what is not yet deservedly his. None step forward to impede the self-inflicted desecration of all that is decent, as the pull of the moon overwhelms the sensibilities of the weakest of hearts. A man so imbibed as to fall down still musters the willpower to snort a shot of cheap powder, well beyond any sense. A woman bouncing between lame-men fuels the courage to refuse the pervasive gluttony, amidst a chorus of broken hearts. A startling challenge to fight descends into a smirk, when the street fighter controller is taken up in arms. Old technology falls down without breaking; a sweat breaks on the brow of a relieved host. After the lord descends on the spillage and his scolding has evaporated, the remnants of the beating drum fades into a slow walk home.


Blur - For Tomorrow
Sam Roberts - Brother Down