It’s a lazy Sunday morning. I should be doing all manner of things (including the never-ending effort to make my lawn not be That Lawn in the neighborhood, which I’ve been doing a bad job at for several years now, so why change, right?). The plan is to go see Snowpiercer tonight, and I’ve managed to completely avoid the trailer and nearly any imagery from the film, which means I’ll be nearly blank slate when it fills the screen. I’m kind of excited about that. Too often trailers show some image that my brain stores, and then when I’m watching the film, my brain figures out where that image goes and a small part of the film is spoiled.
While sorting through my somewhat moribund social media presence the other day, I stumbled upon Klout, which I knew about but had managed to ignore. This time, I shrugged and signed up, though I’m barely more influential than anyone on the street. Maybe it’ll nudge me enough to keep up with making myself visible. It’s one thing to write books; it’s another thing to tell others that you have written. The latter is part of the new paradigm, so I might as well suck it up and figure it out. There is so much wild gnashing of teeth and tearing of hair on the internet, though, that I have little enthusiasm for adding to it. Perhaps, then, there will be talk of kittens and mittens instead.
Or there will be talk of Boris, maybe. There’s a new record out. It doesn’t open with as stunning a song as “Riot Sugar,” and so I’m on the fence about it. I’m not really sure why, other than, you know, “Riot Sugar.”
And the lawn has not mown itself.
Distracted by Warren Ellis’s morning.computer post regarding Blue Ants and Blue Rose Cases, and was reminded that the full Twin Peaks set comes out at the end of this month. It’s been awhile since I sat down and watched the whole thing.
It’s been awhile since I sat down and watched much of anything. The entrepreneur lifestyle, after all.
Closing in on the end of Rudolph edits. Thinking about QUEEN and EVERGREEN. Also thinking about something else called ZERO.
Listening to Tricky’s “Parenthesis”. False Idols is a delightful return of the back alley noir downtempo sound. Also listening to Chris Randall’s new record, floats on air. Delightful Sonorian Chill.