Cliche

This morning I was walking to work, listening to my precious noise rock, when the song kicked into the very definition of an anthemic riff. The archetype. The riff from which all other anthems are wrought. So it feels totally contrived, ("Hey, look everyone! It's an anthemic riff!") but I can't help feeling, you know, uplifted by it. So I'm very self-aware, keeping an eye on this feeling, my uplifted-ness, which was just manipulated into being, being watchful so it doesn't overstep its bounds into genuine emotion, when I look over to my right and see a majestic hawk soaring in a perfectly blue sky. And I burst out laughing.

It was just such a perfect conspiracy of song and nature, manipulation through symbols. Coincidental yet perfectly executed.

It was absurd, and I laughed, and I went to work.




watching man and nature work together to create a moment of such emotional manipulation that it becomes obscene, completely unforgivable in literature, yet completely coincidental in life: ****

Funks, And Climbing Out Of Them

So, I've been in a kind of funk recently. But today I was in the shower, and listening to the New Pornographer's excellent 2nd album Electric Version, and I thought of the Ben & Jerry's ice cream bar treat I had purchased earlier and put in the freezer for later consumption, and I cackled. Totally unselfconsciously, back hunched like a witch, cackled in anticipation of my stored-away dessertling. It was superfantastic! Just a very good sign about my sanity and happiness. The bar wasn't bad either.




realizing there is still some pure joy left rattling around in my brain, and that the strangest things can bring it forth: ****