#311

Hey! Look! I'm still alive! Motherfuckers reading this must be beside themselves, all shitting and pissing uncontrollably with overweening joy that I have deigned to type a word into a text field. 

You're all most welcome. One of the cats is asleep on my lap, so I don't wanna get up, plus I'm all finished with clicking around internet for now, and lack the critical wherewithal to work on actual material--what by all rights I ought to be doing with this time. So here I am.

Actually, I've tried to work on the next post a great many times and have sunk effort into three or four separate drafts--something I try not to do, for the very good reason that drafting kills my momentum in this space stone dead. Gotta rattle off the piece and smash the publish button in one go; that's how it's done and that's how to do it. But here I am, with thousands of words all backed up in the ether and nothing fit to show for it. 

In lieu of any of that, I'll just knock off some random shit, like I'm supposed to, as is my god-granted right, in accordance with my artistic mission.

*

For the longest time I've meant to mention how much I like the band World's End Girlfriend. Now I have! Fuck YES! It's finally happened! They are a really fucking good band. Here's a list of some of the bands/artists I've gotten into in the last couple of years that, for one reason or another, I fail or forget to mention anything about:

• World's End Girlfriend
• Magic Sword
• Le Matos
• Lera Lynn
• Iannis Xenakis
• Sidney Gish
• Jeff Rosenstock
• Fantastic Negrito 
• Rainbow Kitten Surprise

Here's an appended list of artists/bands I've gotten back into or appreciated in a new way:

• The Fiery Furnaces
• Wolves in the Throne Room
• Caribou
• Tegan and Sara
• Architecture in Helsinki
• Arcade Fire
• Broken Social Scene

*

Bought of bunch of Haruki Murakami books, and they should arrive at my house today. While buying my own books (I am still the main purchaser of my own books, but I hardly expect more than that in my lifetime or beyond), I decided I wanted a treat from the giant logistics company that wasn't just my own stuff or ten-pound bags of prunes.

Haruki Murakami is one of those dudes that's so famous in the English latitudes, like Hayao Miyazaki, that I would feel weird writing out his name in the correct order. This bothers me, but I can't do much about it.

*

Don't know why the spacing between paragraphs sometimes seems off on the posts. Why would a setting change without being changed? Why do I bother asking? I'll just do my best to fix it later, if I'm doing the wrong thing, aesthetically, now. It barely matters, except that it drives me fucking bugshit.

*

EAT THAT BITCHES TOTALLY A FUCKIN POST 

IT TOTALLY FUCKIN HAPPENED
ROCK N FUCKIN ROOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLL

--JL

p.s. the Murakami books I got were:

The Elephant Vanishes

After the Quake

South of the Border, West of the Sun

p.p.s. I also got this book that I haven't read since my old best friend lent it to me when we were kids. Prince Ombra, by Roderick MacLeish. I remember this book being a fuckin' trip. It didn't arrive till well after the other books in the order, and I plumb forgot I'd bought it. Nice surprise.