February 24, 2010
dear clusterflock
REM.
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comments:
- Joel Bernstein: I know right?
- Rick Neece: Being nice is a dainty way to put it.
- Rick Neece: Hey Cristopher? Who cried “uncle” first, at the end of your ten-year stand-off? To quote my...
- Michael Smith: Ours is the kitchen.
- Amy Mabli: That’s what happens when you give the dogs the bed.
- Deron Bauman: Sweet Jesus.
- Michael Smith: Don’t we all.
- Pam: I have a story coming out soon in a ‘little mag’, Chicago Quarterly Review. An old friend recently...
- Pam: And I thought, somedays, that my work was meaningless…
- Pam: I remember Eggleston at the Art Institute in Chicago a couple years ago. He was elegantly dressed in a dark suit...
- Christopher Walken: Hey Clusterflockers, Realize y’all are hurting. I’ve been a really close friend of my...
- Marco: This works pretty well in mobile, more so in iOS
- Michael Smith: It was not the intent of management to imply all sissies are “namby pamby”. Management was...
- Rick Neece: I take umbrage with the term “namby pamby.” Some sissies are fierce.
- Carole Corlew: Shelia. Happy no big deal day. I would start your very own post but this phone is in semi rebellion.
There was a time, that time is gone.
When I was a sophomore in high school my friend Wayne Walker introduced me to Reckoning. We listened to it on cassette when we drove around. Up to that point music had been an assault. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that that album helped change me, or at least what I thought was possible. The music I heard on the radio diminished me. What I heard on that cassette sounded like potential. It helped define a trajectory. Probably up until Life’s Rich Pageant, I loved everything they did. After that, the occasional song. But I am continually grateful to them for what they did for me. I appreciate them in ways that are hard to put into words.
I have only good feelings, but that’s because I associate them with what my eldest sister was listening to when I was a tot chasing her around.
Deron, that’s exactly how I feel about Talking Heads and David Byrne. I hardly listen anymore, but I will be forever grateful.
it feels good to say it.
Let’s tell it to the masons.
as far as I can tell, the Masons are all about: no offense, but you’re a bitch.
No offense taken! Of course, YOU, sir, have 4 ounce balls.
it’s good to have meaningful discussion.
automated message
Cindy is out curling and cannot respond at this time.
I’M THE FUCKING BEST!!
automated message
We told you, Cindy is out curling and cannot respond at this time. Fucker.
I completely understand the sentiment, Deron. For me, that band would be Built to Spill (example).
NO OFFENSE!!
I think those people wanted to go to bed together and have stilted, regretful sex with Greatest Wagner Arias playing in the background on a poor quality mini HiFi system, surrounded by pictures of their relatives in freemasonry costumes (they themselves would be wearing chicken outfits without quite understanding why). Perhaps they will, now that they are emailing privately.
You could send an S.A.S.E. to a London P.O.Box to get the actual Stipe lyrics.
Fables of the Reconstruction – the first time anyone placed Walkman headphones over my ears in a manner more akin to sacrament than technology.
‘It’s the end the end of the 70s, its the end the end of the century’