The way I see it, at this point I got nothing to lose.
Tomorrow, Commander Chris Hadfield bids farewell to the International Space Station, meaning we won’t get our usual dose of his tweets and videos sent from space. But he’s signing off with a little David Bowie.
In the nameless midwest a puppy encounters a force he doesn’t understand.
Music: “Evil Ball” by Sinoia Caves
I got no help for ye.
then there’s nothing I can do for you.
There is something grotesque to me about there being this wonderful steakhouse St Elmó, and then just up the street the linguistically repellant chain steakhouse “Ruth’s Chris,” whatever that means, opens up shop. I feel like the people should take to the streets with pitchforks to protest that shit. Similarly, we need to shut down the TGI Fridays in Union Square; let’s take a tactic from the anti-abortion protestors and make people need an escort to get a mudslide fifteen paces from the greenmarket.
Cradle Rock (Montreux 1975)
This was on my mind today, although I’m not sure what made it jump out of my memory.
One of the most influential guitarists of the Seventies, Irish-born Rory Gallagher passed away at the age of 47 in 1995, of complications from a liver transplant. Although he remains relatively unknown, Gallagher is remembered by a devoted fan base, and listed as an inspiration by other, more famous guitar heroes.
I recently discovered this singer/songwriter, and I still can’t shake this song. I found the video for this song today and I’m not sure how I feel about the video. One thing I do love is it reminds me of a Monet painting my art history teacher showed today.
I will say he reminds me of Jeff Buckley and Elliott Smith which are two of my favorites.