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Kate Bush's First Television Appearance
"Wuthering Heights"

This is one of the best soft-pop ballads ever, I think. Watch her
control the camera. This song beat out Mccartney and Blondie in the UK charts
back in '78. I love her.



Paul Mccartney
"Heart of the Country"

This is song is the clearest representation of contentment in music I've ever heard.



I have to have an album ready by Feb. 1st or else. Here's to the spring!
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just like the haze of a whirlwind spell and foreign smells,
time is so hard to nail down.
one week in new york changed alot of things.
alot of things remain the same.
i'm up to my neck in sonnets and linguistics.
up to my ears in cords and clothes.
nearly up to my waist in bills and things to do.
things are on the cusp, decidedly. very much, on the cusp.
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When someone loves you very much,
You're fucked
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No, love doesn't always boomerang
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You can purchase a little EP called "Golden Throats"
from a little website called Insound.com now.

I'm kinda excited. It's not that big of a deal. But it's fun.
It's a little more legitimate. You know.

This link will take you there:

Aktuelle Musik:
atlas sound
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I'll sit and try to meld words together or phrases-anything that will burn little cigarette holesin the lining of my thoughts. But usually, it's in vain. I constantly think about the process that occurs in our world wherein we elevate (or raise, or highlight) the value of something (music, art, words and phrases) beyond their inherent worth or kinetic worth. It's process that is so fucking complicated, random, and even contradictory at times that it seems worthless to even broach the subject. But I don't even know if I'm talking about pop culture or academia or art.

I don't really like to update this because I don't really think it's worth it, but Kevin expressed some frustration at my lack of 'real' updates. So to be brief, I haven't checked my grades for this semester. Cognitive Linguistics was quite a tasking class. I haven't checked to see how my group's grant proposal was received but I'm sure my partner (who holds a Ph.D) held it together.

I have a year left. Still wrapping up a B.A. in Literature and a Minor in Linguistics. The Tallahassee college experience is much less interesting than the New College experience. The New College experience is bullshit for the most part, but it's an experience most should have. It's also really fun. Tallahassee has been nice for reasons other than I intended (i.e. not much music playing). And yet, I knew this would happen from about last March. And as nothing happened over the summer, I knew much wouldn't happen over the next fall and spring. I'm just frustrated that no one would admit to that way back when.Honestly, we're at an age in our lives where we can do anything and should be doing anything. David Cross put it forth so directly when he said "These are the party days." Playing shows with the Walkmen and Man Man were highlights though. Yet, it blows me away that those even happened when I realize just how barely we managed to pull them off. It makes me want to try and make a run at it, just to see what could happen. I'd just want some people to come with me.

In the meanwhile, Golden Throats is a cd that people might want to listen to. Insound.com wants to sell it, if I can ever ship off the first order to them. You can stream it if you'd like here: http://www.imeem.com/dialogs/standaloneplaylist/?p=4FMx-M31

This will most likely be one of the last updates on here. Mainly, I feel a little odd for writing all this. I've been reading alot of Raymond Carver and John Cheever shorts lately. I think about story structure on the way to work, in between thoughts of song structures. I really feel something on the edge of my fingertips. I think it might break soon, but even if it is later, it will break.

Aktuelle Musik:
fleet foxes
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All I want to do is get out of Cape Cod tonight.

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Aktuelle Musik:
ariel pink
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Do you want to change the world?

Sort of.

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Your students are making me nervous, Boas.

For the first time, in a long time, I'm nervous about the show we're playing tonight.

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guilt is the cause of more disorders
than history's most obscene marorders

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You're right in saying no one, here, really says anything interesting anymore.







Sometimes I have these dizzyingly clear moments, the kind you hold 'round your neck when you look down the throat of a canyon, like the images used to sell big screen tv's that are now retired to goodwills and frathouses, cloaked in some faux-pine shroud. Here, every breath stings your throat for these little eternities that slip in and out of the pull of your tonsils, who are attempting to hold it all in. Your surroundings shiver, ready to shatter inwards, the leaves on the branches of the trees in your sight melt like the slippery, tangled insides of a cassette tape: does G-d exist? do we have a rational mind? I do not have money for food.


He wants your ignorance more than the ink under your fingernails, the pampered sweat on your lip, the curiously projected, precariously inflected answer on the tip of your tongue and ridge of your mouth.
Aktuelle Musik:
golden throats
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bradley still still still loves nathan.
and he will probably still post here regularly on an irregular basis.
but, he has a blog.
it is going to be some form of serious very near not-at-all.
it will talk alot about art and bradley.
it is at the following address:

bradleyisspeaks.blogspot.com

look at it. but he is not going to ask you to tell him what you think.

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Dear Nathan Pemberton,
I seem to have arrived at home in a neighborhood where no one mows the grass in their own backyard.
I do not wear camouflage; there is no sex in my story, there are no guns and no one dies. But I walk alone, I carry a candle at midday. And in the new park along the water in this sometime city, I’ll give you a call. You were lying in your bedroom and I watched as the sun beat itself down to fit underneath railroad track bridges for lumberyards. To my left a man in a wheelchair fans himself with a Frisbee and to your right a boy in his late teens listens to free jazz while trying to figure out what he thinks about God. I don’t know. Maybe I don’t need someone to make it all matter. A single is enough to buy that cocacola. This is wandering through interstate traffic and that is recoiling to find where else to go.
I told my boss that I’ll be looking for a new job soon. Maybe then I’ll stop with all the metaphor. Until then, here are the concretes:
Today I wear a light blue shirt and a dark brown tie.
I am single.
I am not alone.
I miss your markered chest with eagle feathers hanging below your ribs.
I listened to music on the way to work today, not the radio.
I ate watermelon and strawberries for lunch.
I will see you in October, not before.
There are things that I think you should listen to me about, sometimes for me and sometimes for you, and I am afraid that you won’t.

“Now the Lord had prepared a great fish to swallow up Jonah”

Bradley

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"what's your favorite word?"
"post-apocalyptic."
"compound adjectives cannot be favorites."
"why not?"
"because you have to see favorites."
"god. god is my favorite word."
"god is not a word."
"and you are not a bear."
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Nathan loves goats. Charlotte and Mildred, specifically.
also, I was thinking the other day about how much life is in every second. not how much of my life or your life specifically or anything trite like that, but life in general. how this second some is being born, someone is being killed, some people are probably having sex, some one is eating a cold cut sandwich in the window of a sandwich shop when a black cadillac drives by in the wrong lane.
and then I thought about this:
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nathan and i were talking about how you don't know that getting ready to die until you're dead. you'll never be in a fatal car accident until it's fatal
i talked with a guy who is playing judas iscariot in a movie about the easter story on wednesday morning at 330ish. he said that nobody likes to live right now because the future is too easy and the past is too hard and now is just now and that's too much for people to handle. he had very muscular arms with flaps of skin under his biceps.
i slept alot yesterday. and had a lone dream with tiny mulit-colored tornados and a gas station owned by my older brother and sister.

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contentment is a historical complex in west virginia that smells like marijuana.

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