Eb on New Years: "No you can't have none a this. This here's too hot for you. Gonna have to look elsewheres."

Ok, just one more obsessive thing about the Magnetic fields and then I'll walk away. I promise. Listen to "Let's Pretend We're Bunny Rabbits" and you'll hear, at 25 seconds into the song, at then end of some delicious casio-like drumming and some expectant seventh note plunking, a little "eow" from a kitty. Or is it the sounds of rabbit sex? I'd never heard it before 2 minutes ago and then it came squeaking out of my left speaker as I was fixing some HTML and it shocked the hell out of me.

Is is stupid or what to post pieces of Magnetic Fields lyrics every day. God. It's not like I have nothing to write. But there he goes again singing about Ferdinand de Saussure and I'm nuts about it. It seems like the only thing that matters. And then another song comes on and it's the same absolutely brilliant decapitating crap all over again. "You can't open your mouth without telling a lie, but baby, you know how to say good-bye." The way his larynx dips down into Johnny Cash territory on "baby" kills me deader than if you dropped a safe on me. I think I'm in love with him and, yes, love is a beautiful thing, but it also sucks because I'm not gay. He's all I really want.

I laid awake all night last night and went round and round on a lyrical carousel. "...razy for you but not that cr..." The pressure was on because I *had* to get some sleep because I *had* to get up a specified time. Having to get up a a specified time, even if it is noon, constitutes a lot of pressure these days. Working bastards may scoff at this pansy-ass obsessiveness but it's all relative. The significant thing is that it's now the third time in recent memory I've had insomnia, and all three times, the time was spent twisting my brain up tighter and tighter around one tiny piece of Magnetic Fields lyrical rapture.

Grand pianos crash together
when my boy walks down the street.
There are whole new kinds of weather
when he walks with his new beat.

Amazing!
He's a whole new form of life
blue eyes blazing
and he's going to be my wife.

This is Darjeeling. I'm not sure if this picture makes any sense to people who haven't been there. I walked through a hotel to get to the back patio so I could take this picture. A kid saw me trying to shoot the same thing from the street and said, "Hey, walk through here. Better view." Then he tried to sell me a sack of weed. I said, "Why aren't you in school."

I never figured out why they knock all the branches off the trees and leave only the tops. What is that? People scrounging for wood but they don't want to completely strip the tree so they leave the very top?

I wish someone could tell me the notes that Stephin sings when he sings

                          
              you         
          for             that
    crazy         but not
I'm                               zy
                               cra

I know the chords are Eb and Ab and Bb but the notes drive me crazy. Yes, that cra zy.

It's something like Bb C D E C D Ab Bb. My pitch sucks. Ahh, hello 5 am.

"Caution Caution Caution: to prevent electric shock
do not, do not, do not, remove cover
No user-serviceable parts inside
Refer servicing to qualified
service personnel"

Let this be the epitaph for my heart.
Cupid put too much poison in the dart.

More of my Darjeeling darling.

These are Tony's proud parents. Brahmins. Mom's a school teacher and dad is a school administrator. They were very patient while a took a light reading off of them. I liked these folks a lot. They were much easier to get along with than their son and his friends. Maybe it was because we didn't share a language. They made me eat by myself. They put the food down on the floor and I ate it while they watched. Then dad went and then Tony and then mom.

Lookit dad. He looks all gruff but he's not. You can tell by mom's expression. He was just tired. How's that for motherfuckin dignity. They didn't have anything as nice as my leatherman for show-and-tell but godamn it, they had dignity. The walls are blue in Jodhpur.

I found the script to The Jerk on line tonight. I'm completely obsessed with it for some reason. You can read the whole thing in a half an hour.

Well mom, remember my dream of owning a big house on a hill and how I used to wish for a living room with a plaster lion in it from Mexico and how I always wanted a large twenty four seat dining table in a dining room with original oil paintings by Michelangelo and Rembrandt and remember how I always wanted a rotating bed with pink chiffon and zebra stripes and remember how I used to chit chat with dad about always wanting a bathtub shaped like a clam and an office with orange and white stripes and remember how much I wanted an all red billiard room with a giant stuffed camel and how I wanted a disco room with my own disco dancers and a party room with fancy friends and remember how much I wanted a big backyard with Grecian statues, s-shaped hedges and three swimming pools? Well, I got that too.

Odds Carraig, Calcutta.

Oh ... Sam. I've had the transport pool onto me ... You don't know anything about a personnel transporter gone missing do you?

A "personnel" transporter? They've got it wrong. I had a personal transporter. I'll do the paperwork tomorrow -

Ami Patel. That girl knew how to wear a purple shawl -- even when it was gray

David was reading and holding his hand in the air. It was swiveling atop his forearm. His voice dipped and his lungs pushed out exuberant but precise strings of words. We had been swept up, Sherry and me, and we listened to this evening's 5th hour of someone reading what they had written. But this hour was different from the previous four because the three of us had escaped to David's house in the Sunset and he was reading from his Toshiba Satellite 2135CSE. I was stoned. Sherry had her shoes off. David had hardened spit clacking in the corners of his mouth.

David had taken a likin' to us after I read my emails at a writing group. He offered to give us a ride to the indierock show we were going to. It was the wrong night for that show so we drove around and talked feverishly. It was just feverish talk about a bunch of shit. We shut The Philosopher's Stone down and missed beer 'o'clock at Safeway and we had to be real quiet when we got to his apartment. There was a guy sleeping in the living room. I was so stupid. I had my video camera with me but I didn't film the insides of his room. It was just as interesting as the back seat of his car. But I can't describe that either. I should have shot it while he wailed on about his film-nut hero driving back from a film festival. David went to New York today. Man, that was great. I was so stupid.

Pritha Murdeshwar. Funny, I got the same shot of Brian.