it's 1:21 a.m., on 2001-05-23 - the end of empires.
~
It's three o'clock in the morning, and I'm hungry, so let's eat.
This is why I *hate* canadians: Buffy has been shown, and I'm itching to read the details of the death. I have caught a few words of spoilers, and closed the windows. I do not want to be spoiled.
Keep me pure. Please.
It feels like the end of an empire, surrounding Buffy, the great sound of some huge statue in the desert, all crumbling down.
Now I'm back on the bridge, over the desert, hearing that lizard music. --which won't make sense unless you can see the bay bridge, see those tools dancing and the fires. Oz and Devon, desperate and lonely together. That's friendship, music in the desert.
That's life, music in the desert.
--I'm finding myself farther and farther down the road; more and more my thoughts are thinking, north africa. Syria. Greece. I don't think in AD anymore, and that's okay, because the Minoan civilization had running water two thousand years before Christ was born.
2000 AD, 2000 BC. In another two thousand years, will we have running water, or will the handsaws on the horizon be the only sign of mechanical wonders, the giants they lay to rest the only thing left of our heros.
We don't have heros. We have, politics and states, we have movie stars, we have scandel and myth and rising gas prices.
I don't know where I'm going today. It's all over the place. It's in the Roman legions, and the Egyptian Nile. It's in the basement of the Bronze, where there's an empire ending-- I know who dies. I think. I caught two words, and it was that she's dead. But you know, I don't think I had to hear that to know it.
Whoever died, it was the end of an empire. Our empire. Nothing stays the same.
~*~
There is a very potent-- and I use the word potent here the way it's supposed to be used, powerful, strong, impactful in a small space-- line in the song 'helicopters'. They say all these things about irony and allies bombing schools, and helicopters, and journalists waiting in a hotel bar. Hurrying back to his guitar.
They say, 'I'll be leaving soon.'
They also say, 'a world that loves it's irony must hate the protest singer'.
And I think, maybe, that gypsies are protest singers, too. The vocal ones.
'It's hard to sympathize with all this devestation, hopping round from site to site like tourists on vacation'.
I'm going to see the Barenaked Ladies in concert. I'm also going to see Radiohead in concert. It's even money as to which will be the more sublime-- the pop, yet, fundamental tones of the barenaked ladies, like Hth and Kate, so subtle, the kind of thing that you don't realize what you're hearing, what you're singing along with, for some time. And then when you do, you realize that all that Oz and Giles sex, all those pop tunes, they really do have potency.
Or Radiohead, crackvictims and minimalist and tripping out. Like reading Sheila, or Puca, or Te, in places. Those kinds of singers.
The sublime in everything.
I have quite a small playlist right now. It's quiet sublime. It's, twelve o'clock, midnight, and I'm hungry, so let's eat.
~*~
I just wrote at Lynx, Buffy doing a handstand on the smallest pyramid at Giza. No matter what, that's going to be the end of Buffy for me. Whatever happened tonight, that's where I'm going to see the end of her.
She's going to be watching the birth of the Nile River Delta, and the wonders of the world, doing a handstand while ten thousand Egyptians go about their business below her-- and watching the sun come up.
It's like Oz in the desert. It's the end of something, and it's hard to see.
It's a protest singer's wet dream.
It's a lizard, on a rock, outliving the Nile and Babylon and Rome and Athens and Pylos and the Age of Heros and all those magnificent things we just, we lost. Lizards come from hundreds of thousands of years ago. Reptiles have their basis in the dinosaurs.
Small gods.
Dinosaurs have their basis in things even further back in time. And we've got nothing. Microwaves and movie stars. We dare complain that we're bored.
It's twenty to one in the morning. I'm feeling sublime.
~
-
what would sith be nostalgic about anyway - November 24, 2015
moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
- - July 19, 2015
- - July 01, 2015
bruise - June 29, 2015
-