Monday, January 26, 2009
Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers - I Won't Back Down
At first I thought Ian was crazy, but after reviewing these photos, I kind of see why he'd say it.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Kings of Leon - Revelry
It's going to be a long one...
When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of life's busy race
No matter what yer doing if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of yer cup
If the wind's got you sideways with with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you sometimes say
"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born"
And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the street
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think yer ears might a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three queens
And it's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine
And there's something on yer mind you wanna be saying
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you badly when your layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start closin with you underneath
And yer flat on your belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
And you say to yourself just what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hanging
On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm talking
In this air I'm inhaling
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking, where am I running
What am I saying, what am I knowing
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailin'
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin'
In the tune I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin'
In the words that I'm thinkin'
In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, what am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I taking
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make yer heart pound
But then again you know why they're around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times comes creeping
And you fear that they might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it's something special you're needin'
And you know that there's no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to stop yer brain from bleeding
And you need something special
Yeah, you need something special all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows yer troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at yer looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rollin' long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, that space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how many
Times you might get kicked
You need something special all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope's just a word
That maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve
But that's what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer trouble is you know it too good
"Cause you look an' you start getting the chills
"Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dimlit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer money
And you thinks it's funny
No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to tell
That no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse
And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry
When you can't even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache
And inside it the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind yer back
My friend
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant
And make all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think they're foolin' you
The ones who jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of rnoney and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be like that
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God Almighty
THAT STUFF AINT REAL"
No but that ain't yer game, it ain't even yer race
You can't hear yer name, you can't see yer face
You gotta look some other place
And where do you look for this hope that yer seekin'
Where do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin'
Where do you look for this oil well gushin'
Where do you look for this candle that's glowin'
Where do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads
Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist
And turn two kinds of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn State Hospital
And though it's only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You'll find them both
In the Grand Canyon
At sundown
2. I climbed Camelback Mountain yesterday and it felt great! The trail was about 1.2 miles long, which isn't long but it quickly rose up over 1,000 feet. Most of it was steep and since we went on a weekend, it was extremely packed. I think I'm going to do it every Saturday or Sunday morning. I didn't bring my camera so here are some shots taken by other people:
3. My ARS 100 book, Understanding Art, is so great so far. Every page has a quote concerning art and, of course, I was way over-the-top excited about seeing Leo Tolstoy's name in there!
"Art is not a handicraft; it is the transmission of feeling the artist has experienced."
Not the best quote, but I was excited anyway. This contemporary artwork from Marcel Duchamp is a lot of fun:
4. Congratulations Miss Indiana! Sorry I ranked your importance after the urinal.
Goodnight Moon.
1. LAST THOUGHTS ON WOODY GUTHRIE by Bob Dylan
When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of life's busy race
No matter what yer doing if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of yer cup
If the wind's got you sideways with with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you sometimes say
"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born"
And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the street
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think yer ears might a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three queens
And it's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine
And there's something on yer mind you wanna be saying
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you badly when your layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start closin with you underneath
And yer flat on your belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
And you say to yourself just what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hanging
On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm talking
In this air I'm inhaling
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking, where am I running
What am I saying, what am I knowing
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailin'
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin'
In the tune I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin'
In the words that I'm thinkin'
In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, what am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I taking
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make yer heart pound
But then again you know why they're around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times comes creeping
And you fear that they might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it's something special you're needin'
And you know that there's no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to stop yer brain from bleeding
And you need something special
Yeah, you need something special all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows yer troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at yer looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rollin' long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, that space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how many
Times you might get kicked
You need something special all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope's just a word
That maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve
But that's what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer trouble is you know it too good
"Cause you look an' you start getting the chills
"Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dimlit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer money
And you thinks it's funny
No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to tell
That no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse
And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry
When you can't even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache
And inside it the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind yer back
My friend
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant
And make all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think they're foolin' you
The ones who jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of rnoney and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be like that
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God Almighty
THAT STUFF AINT REAL"
No but that ain't yer game, it ain't even yer race
You can't hear yer name, you can't see yer face
You gotta look some other place
And where do you look for this hope that yer seekin'
Where do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin'
Where do you look for this oil well gushin'
Where do you look for this candle that's glowin'
Where do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads
Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist
And turn two kinds of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn State Hospital
And though it's only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You'll find them both
In the Grand Canyon
At sundown
2. I climbed Camelback Mountain yesterday and it felt great! The trail was about 1.2 miles long, which isn't long but it quickly rose up over 1,000 feet. Most of it was steep and since we went on a weekend, it was extremely packed. I think I'm going to do it every Saturday or Sunday morning. I didn't bring my camera so here are some shots taken by other people:
3. My ARS 100 book, Understanding Art, is so great so far. Every page has a quote concerning art and, of course, I was way over-the-top excited about seeing Leo Tolstoy's name in there!
"Art is not a handicraft; it is the transmission of feeling the artist has experienced."
Not the best quote, but I was excited anyway. This contemporary artwork from Marcel Duchamp is a lot of fun:
4. Congratulations Miss Indiana! Sorry I ranked your importance after the urinal.
Goodnight Moon.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Kaki King - Bari Improv
Yesterday was 23 on the 23rd. <3
NYU is the new New School. The New School has a very dumb requirement for graduation that entails living on campus for 2 years, which would add up to $48,000. These people are out of their noggins.
I'm going hiking in about 15 minutes. Last time I did was with grandpa's girlfriend and that was only 3 miles. I don't know how I feel about it.
NYU is the new New School. The New School has a very dumb requirement for graduation that entails living on campus for 2 years, which would add up to $48,000. These people are out of their noggins.
I'm going hiking in about 15 minutes. Last time I did was with grandpa's girlfriend and that was only 3 miles. I don't know how I feel about it.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Beyonce - All The Single Ladies
So everything is making a big fuss about this plane in the Hudson business, which is definitely press-worthy, but they had an hour long special about it on Dateline THE NEXT DAY. That's a little absurd. But anyway, I realized that when I look back on my blog, I'll probably want to remember this. So that is one of my favourite pictures of the event and here's the breakdown:
The miraculous tale of survival came when pilot Chesley B. "Sully" Sullenberger III made an astonishing controlled crash landing into the frigid Hudson River after a flock of birds knocked out both engines 15 minutes after takeoff. By landing the plane at exactly the perfect angle and shutting off all the valves that would let water in, he kept the plane intact and afloat and all 155 people on board were rescued with the most severe injury being a broken leg.
In this picture, airline passengers wait on the wings of the plane to board one of the dozens of boats that sped to the crash within minutes, further saving the passengers from hypothermia in the sub-freezing temperature.
U.S. Airways airplane on its way to North Carolina, by the way.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Okkervil River - Our Life Is Not A Movie But Maybe
I don't know why some of them came out sideways either.
Bruce Springsteen - I'm On Fire
This is crazy:
This is, or should be, too time consuming for anyone in their right mind:
I bought two books at a book sale I went to this morning; Either/Or : Volume I and Either/Or : Volume II both by Kierkegaard (for a whopping $3). The first two lines in the first volume, and ultimately the reason why I bought the books go like this:
"What is a poet? An unhappy man who in his heart harbors a deep anguish, but whose lips are so fashioned that the moans and cries which pass over them are transformed into ravishing music."
My online class (Introductory Sociology) seems like it's going to be really easy - only 13 quizzes and 13 discussion boards. The syllabus makes no mention of a paper so that makes me a happy student! A really cool fact about this class? My professor is also the editor of the textbook we had to buy for the class. Impressive.
The next post is for Steven, so sorry you had to scroll through all of it just to get to this one little line saying goodnight. Goodnight.
This is, or should be, too time consuming for anyone in their right mind:
I bought two books at a book sale I went to this morning; Either/Or : Volume I and Either/Or : Volume II both by Kierkegaard (for a whopping $3). The first two lines in the first volume, and ultimately the reason why I bought the books go like this:
"What is a poet? An unhappy man who in his heart harbors a deep anguish, but whose lips are so fashioned that the moans and cries which pass over them are transformed into ravishing music."
My online class (Introductory Sociology) seems like it's going to be really easy - only 13 quizzes and 13 discussion boards. The syllabus makes no mention of a paper so that makes me a happy student! A really cool fact about this class? My professor is also the editor of the textbook we had to buy for the class. Impressive.
The next post is for Steven, so sorry you had to scroll through all of it just to get to this one little line saying goodnight. Goodnight.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Explosions in the Sky - Catastrophe and the Cure
I have to get ready to go to the Tucson Hospitality Inn - that's right. I volunteer with my mom now but I'm running really late and will probably need to feed myself before going too as to not look rude by asking for food as soon as I walk in. I basically clean the bathrooms, vacuum and sweep the front courtyard. It's actually quite nice (and looks really great on my resume).
I need to finish the Common Application.
I need to order my Official Transcripts.
I need to apply to Eugene Lang The New School for Liberal Arts, New York University and Baruch College.
I need to get two teacher recommendations.
I need to apply for more scholarships.
I need to change my FAFSA to my mother being unemployed so I can receive any kind of financial aid.
I need to get financial aid. Because if I don't, I can forget about transferring.
My parents and I did the math last night and if I do transfer to The New School, I will still owe the school 55k after I graduate. That's not including rent, food, transportation, books&supplies, and clothing. I have a huge decision to make.
I applied for 4 on-campus jobs and got turned down by one because they can only hire work-study eligible students. Fuck that.
Okay so this post is pointless. Oh! I finished The Death of Ivan Ilych. I bought Anna Karenina yesterday and started it last night. So far so good, but it's just as long as War and Peace so I figure if I can finish this I can finish that. I'm going to get ready now.
I need to finish the Common Application.
I need to order my Official Transcripts.
I need to apply to Eugene Lang The New School for Liberal Arts, New York University and Baruch College.
I need to get two teacher recommendations.
I need to apply for more scholarships.
I need to change my FAFSA to my mother being unemployed so I can receive any kind of financial aid.
I need to get financial aid. Because if I don't, I can forget about transferring.
My parents and I did the math last night and if I do transfer to The New School, I will still owe the school 55k after I graduate. That's not including rent, food, transportation, books&supplies, and clothing. I have a huge decision to make.
I applied for 4 on-campus jobs and got turned down by one because they can only hire work-study eligible students. Fuck that.
Okay so this post is pointless. Oh! I finished The Death of Ivan Ilych. I bought Anna Karenina yesterday and started it last night. So far so good, but it's just as long as War and Peace so I figure if I can finish this I can finish that. I'm going to get ready now.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Elliott Smith - Pretty (Ugly Before)
NJ was a winter wonderland and it was so nice to see white again. The city still hugs me the same way it did before. (And so does he). I didn't get to spend as much time with friends (Alicia and Marcelo) as I hoped for due to family lunches and dinners. I would love to list everything that I did this winter break in NJ so I could look back and remember and smile, but I'm not going to. It's on a tape in a tape recorder and that's all I need. I can't believe I didn't take any pictures with my Pentax in the city. That's okay though; the city will be my canvas soon enough.
These are my favourites from the roll I just developed:
And finally, the ultimate best of the bunch:
So I have so many things on my Stickies 'To Do' List! I'll explain later, but I will say this - this upcoming semester is going to kick my little butt! A job, applications to fill out, and 18 credits to kill! I must keep up with this awesome GPA, too. I will be so upset if I don't.
These are my favourites from the roll I just developed:
And finally, the ultimate best of the bunch:
So I have so many things on my Stickies 'To Do' List! I'll explain later, but I will say this - this upcoming semester is going to kick my little butt! A job, applications to fill out, and 18 credits to kill! I must keep up with this awesome GPA, too. I will be so upset if I don't.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Lil Wayne - I Feel Like Dying
I would like this song much more if it was just the girl in the background.
I'm in 36 Bloomfield, New Jersey, and I just woke up.
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