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Jan. 20th, 2005 12:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oakenguyIf I buy Stephen King's premise that a writer's relationship to his work has a lot in common with a mom's relationship to her brain-damaged child, then sending something off to the editor is a lot like the first day of school, waving to your helmeted tot as the short bus pulls away. You love the time you're with it, you'll have it back soon, you're already, in fact, planning the supper this evening...but oh, it's nice to have it in someone else's hands for a little while.
In other news, let's see...oh. I'm worried about my fish again. They're just not moving around very much; they just float in place, for the most part. It's like they've all become Buddhist monks and are becoming one with the Great Bubble. In my second abuse of the Mom metaphor in two paragraphs, I feel like tossing them their little sweaters (or the fish equivalent) and kicking them outside. "Go! Play! Get some fresh ai...some fresh water! Just don't hit a baseball onto the treasure chest, or Old Man Bettameyer will yell at you!"
Having iTunes at work has changed my relationship with certain of the other employees. (I can't look at Nancy from Accounts Payable without thinking "Aerosmith's Greatest Hits"??) I've loaded mine with Eddie Izzard, various soundtracks, some Bollywood, quite a bit of randomness...but the one tune I'm a little concerned about is from an album called 'Sacred Roots of Rock and Roll', which I picked up as part of my new 'Wire'-inspired interest in Southern Gospel. The second track is credited to the Rev. J.M. Gates; the song is 'Amazing Grace', but what really gets me is the introduction. "We're living in a scientific age! We're living in a time now when NASA gets its stars from New York! And New York gets its stars from Paris! And Paris gets its stars from HELL! So we've got to sing! We've got to sing! Join with me now! Aaaamaaaaaazing grace...."
In other news, let's see...oh. I'm worried about my fish again. They're just not moving around very much; they just float in place, for the most part. It's like they've all become Buddhist monks and are becoming one with the Great Bubble. In my second abuse of the Mom metaphor in two paragraphs, I feel like tossing them their little sweaters (or the fish equivalent) and kicking them outside. "Go! Play! Get some fresh ai...some fresh water! Just don't hit a baseball onto the treasure chest, or Old Man Bettameyer will yell at you!"
Having iTunes at work has changed my relationship with certain of the other employees. (I can't look at Nancy from Accounts Payable without thinking "Aerosmith's Greatest Hits"??) I've loaded mine with Eddie Izzard, various soundtracks, some Bollywood, quite a bit of randomness...but the one tune I'm a little concerned about is from an album called 'Sacred Roots of Rock and Roll', which I picked up as part of my new 'Wire'-inspired interest in Southern Gospel. The second track is credited to the Rev. J.M. Gates; the song is 'Amazing Grace', but what really gets me is the introduction. "We're living in a scientific age! We're living in a time now when NASA gets its stars from New York! And New York gets its stars from Paris! And Paris gets its stars from HELL! So we've got to sing! We've got to sing! Join with me now! Aaaamaaaaaazing grace...."
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Date: 2005-01-20 06:00 pm (UTC)(the Fourth Circle, 8th bolgia, to be precise: The Bogs of Vapidity)
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Date: 2005-01-20 06:04 pm (UTC)Sorry, bad joke. Have you checked the oxygen level in your tank?
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Date: 2005-01-20 10:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-21 01:21 am (UTC)My music for the last few minutes has been:
Vermillion Pt. 2 (Slipknot)
Tombstone Blues (Bob Dylan)
Summer Day Reflection (Donovan)
Hearshot Kid Distaster (Coheed & Cambria)
Probably you wouldn't be able to look at me without thinking:
"Totally incomprehensible." Heh.