Still fucked up.

I watched "Iris", that film about Iris Murdoch and her husband and how they deal with her getting Alzheimer's and it seriously fucked me up. Because she was so cool and smart and he loved her so fucking much and it sounds corny, but I miss my brain-addled mom, so I cried a helluva lot. I just couldn't help it. I didn't know why I was crying and I wanted to see the movie so I wasn't really "goin with the flow" and I kept choking it back but it was going to come out no matter what I did. Then after it was over I really felt like writing something, being all emotional and everything. I got up and sorted through my old bills and made sure they were all paid and then I clicked on some Belle & Sebastian mp3's and while I was digging around on my desk I found some old film that I never scanned and this photo was on the end of the roll. That was my Canon P coming to the end of a roll and not letting me advance the film all the way but still letting me cock the shutter. Well, that emotional stuff was over an hour ago but I still feel all raw inside. I'm glad it's a good photograph.

KPOO is the unity in the community.

LVD is with you mikeside at the Inside Lover's Lounge. Right now, at 2:30am, love is what it's all about.

After bustin' some Gill Scott Heron "Message to the Messengers" and some Stevie Wonder "Redemption Song" he came out with a shockingly beautiful sermon about how we get ourselves out of this mess. So much love in his deep deep scratchy voice. "We're beautiful. We are beautiful. And those that know owe...those that don't know."

"Here's what you do: The first thing you do in the morning is tell the first person you see that you love them. And mean it. It doesn't have to be about sex. Just human being to human being."

LVD is a treasure from midnight to 3am on Wednesdays. 89.5 FM. Those that know owe.

Don't be afraid.

I found this on a Neutral Milk Hotel site and I stopped typing and rubbed my eyes. And of course it had to be and it is perfect. And perfect combined with perfect is not always perfect but this is perfect. And the harmonica is unwelcome, and John can't remember the lyrics right when spirals of white smoke are supposed to be softly flowing over eyelids, but suddenly he rescues it: his fists pummel the strings down into the chorus about placing fingers round the notches in your spine. And he sounds nervous and desperate and totally in love with that chord progession.

My two favorite artists. That's my kind of two-headded boy! Your peanut butter in my chocolate. It's John Darnielle doing "Two-Headed Boy pt.1" by NMH.