Label Day?
3 September 2001
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Label Day?
3 September 2001
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7:56 AM: So as it turned out, I'm sorry to say, the Thinking Fellers show Friday did not kick ass. It put ass to sleep. The Fellers themselves were good, but my god. It took from 8:30 waiting for the doors to open until after 11:30 for them to even come on stage. The time before was taken up by some experimental something or others, and as I suppose is a necessary possibility, the experiments did not succeed. Many film loops and sound loops and instrument noodling and "performance" "art" activities that went on way, way, way too long. Then there was an actual band, but frankly, their songs had one key, and it was low. Probably they would have been more interesting if we hadn't already been lulled into near-unconsciousness first.
Plus the overly-mannered, very tired, self-amused "wacky people" that are always at the Thinking Fellers shows have sunk to a new low: public nudity. This is not funny. Or impressive. Or conducive to successful digestion. It's just boring. The whole night was too much like a big in-joke. That's fine at private parties where you don't have to pay 10 bucks to get in and 4 dollars a beer. Well, no, it wouldn't be fine even then, but it would be easier to ignore. Also, the lights would probably be up a bit more.
Saturday, Blood and Iron, the new book in Harry Turtledove's alternate-WWI series, finally showed up in the mail. Drawback to the book club, that. Plus I had just recently found my copy of Breakthroughs, the previous book. So I read those all day Saturday and Sunday. In between sleeping.
That lasted until about 3 AM Today, Monday. Of course I couldn't go to sleep. So I watched the first four episodes of Farscape that, as it turned out, I had managed to mostly tape last week. Just cut off the first minute or so - never can get the damn clock set correctly on the VCR. It's a pretty funny show, in a low-standards kind of way.
Hey, it all beats thinking or feeling.
I almost forgot again that it's a holiday Today. But it is. So cool, more time for Solitaire. Maybe even sleep at some point. Whee.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
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All names are fake, most places are real, the
author is definitely
unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
© 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne. | ||||
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