What is pop again? And why don't I like it?

No, really. What is "pop" by definition? I had been laboring under the impression that it was short for "popular". Popular music. The problem lies in the music that I've been listening to lately. The File Info tells me that it's pop. Only, nothing I listen to is popular. This music is not popular! You have no idea who these people are! There's also my notion that "pop" sucks. And if I take it to mean "popular music" then I am correct. Because whatever the kids are listening to today is complete crap.

Which leads me down another road. I blame the internet, but I've been developing a passion for completely obscure musical artists. I maintain my stance that I like any music, as long as it's good. But I'm developing this subset of interest of music that, while good, no one has ever heard of. Seriously, if you have good music that no one knows about, I would love to be the first purchaser of your album that no one has ever bought.

I hope none of these bands become popular. I don't know how I'd feel about that. Of course, given the current state of popular music, I doubt that I need fear anything. I went to the mall yesterday (Hi Pat!) because I needed to buy shoes (Hi Beth!). It sucked so hard. I can't even try for eloquence in my description of how much the mall sucks. Horrible, gross little teenagers everywhere. Everything was unpleasant. Especially the crappy music that seem to be played everywhere. It occurred to me as I was waiting for my meal in the Ruby Tuesday's that I could not recognize a single song that had been played. Um... go team Amy? Seriously, I'm kind of glad, because there's nothing I heard that I would like to hear again. I hope I didn't hear any Evanescence [/deliberate lack of concern for spelling] because I've decided that it's a life goal of my to never ever hear any song they have. So far, so good.

I was so happy to go home, scrounge for hours on Kazaa for a single song, and then listen to it on my headphones, away from all the unpleasant sounds of popular tunes.

Oh, also, Pat: "There is a problem with the backBlog server. Please be patient and come visit us again later."

Oh, kvetch, kvetch, kvetch.

Have you ever enjoyed something that you didn't feel you should be enjoying? I'm not talking about dirty things, you pervs!

Or am I? [eyebrow]

No. I am not. Anyway. It's a very odd feeling. "This shouldn't make me happy." And yet ... there ya go.

Coincidentally, when I started this entry, it was my intent to be forthcoming and non-cryptic. It's like I don't even know how to do that anymore. In somewhat related news, I've been feeling this very strong urge to post lately. I hope it passes, as it requires lots of effort to think about.

Happy Birthday.

To the love of my life.

Not to cause a mild panic or anything...

I am happy.

Um... my teeth still hurt, though, so you can still pity me. I mean, my lunch today was milk. MILK.

My day in pictures.

 -------> 

The Tyranny of Distance, Pt. 2

I've decided that even though I am absolutely fabulous and locating new and good music, that this is a very frustrating enterprise. Case in point, my new buddy Ted Leo. Teddy, I can only understand half of what you say. And every review of your album says that the lyrics of your songs are the best part. And since no one knows who the heck you are, I can't find the lyrics online. This might actually force me into (shuddergasp!) buying music. And now what's that about? Also, songs that are good, as a rule, need to be longer. I used to call this the "Tangerine" principle, until I realized that Tangerine actually runs over four minutes. What I mean to say is, they should have more verses.

This entry of me talking to my imaginary friend has been brought to you by:

You Could Die (Or This Might End)
Working it out again
And you're
Dreaming it out again
About you
Giving your all again
Until you
Feel like you could die or this might end
End

Taking it all again
And you're
Giving your all again
Until you
Run yourself dry again
And you
Feel like you could die or this might end
End
End

Notes to self.

1. You're a fucking idiot.

2. Try not to throw up.

The Tyranny of Distance

Me and Johnny sitting in the green grass
I don't remember too much from the far back in the past
But man oh man was Jonathan a laugh in those days
Apparently he was my very best friend
We spent warm summer days wishing they would never end
But I only know from photographs I look at
Every now and again
J-Johnny
Ooh all he left us was an apple tree
And ooh why'd he go and ooh why'd he leave?
And ooh why do I grieve?
Now I don't ever see Jonathan no more
But my life flows on just like it did before
And I only wonder what it is that I even miss him for


That's from a song by Ted Leo/Pharmacists. It's called "Timorous Me". I figured that I should write something in here, but I have nothing to say. This sounded like a decent enough substitute.

With apologies to Saren and the Pants.

I don't like August, either.