#282

Whoa! Album Week 2022 continues, by the merciful grace of the computer angels! I'll be blown. Really thought everything would crash again. 

Drinking hemp milk right now. When I was smoking weed, hemp milk didn't really taste like anything. Now this hemp milk tastes extremely like weed. Like a bunch of terpene oil mixed into oatmilk with a top note of plain unsalted roasted peanuts. Man, it's good. I've had to quit drinking cow's milk, which has long been my most favorite of beverages, because to drink more than a little in my coffee has lately resulted in a protracted period of extremely toxic farts. Part of me is sad, bereaved even, but all things run their course. 

To put it another way, absolutely everything you've ever loved and thought to possess, from your special talents to your basal functions, is rented, not owned. All that you are and all that you were is and was a passing on to its next form, as life consumes life so that it may beget life, and praise be. I'll miss milk, but there's always something beautiful about moving onto the next stage in life no matter how stupid or sad the particulars. I still have so much; in the end, I'll have nothing; in nothing, perhaps everything. We shall see!

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Hm hm hm. What album what album. What...album...shall I discuss today? Maybe, since it's late and I'm tired, I'll do a volley of albums, and generate just a tidbit about each.

Revolver, The Beatles: The only truly dope Beatles album. This opinion was controversial amongst my classmates and friends growing up, who largely championed Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, but according to Wikipedia, a growing critical body agrees with me. I have to admit, because of who I am, this dampens my already halfhearted ardor for this record. Truly I am an incurable and insufferable iconoclast. I will sharpen my position thus: the last track is the only truly dope Beatles track. Honorable mentions are dusted throughout Revolver and the rest of their discography, I suppose.

Electric Mud, Muddy Waters: There's considerable hate for this effort out there, but I dig it big. Hell, I fuckin love it, each track. I'm a sucker for this jam.

Perfect From Now On, Built to Spill: This is one of those albums, and consequentially, bands that I found and listened to and fell in love with before learning how iconic it all is. So sue me. It's amazing. They rock. Especially love "Randy Describes Eternity" and perhaps even moreso "Made-Up Dreams".

Temporary Forever, BUSDRIVER: The dude makes very different music these days, but this album is forever yup yes I went there no shame here yesssss nothing temporary about this forever boys

Foxx Bodies, Foxx Bodies: The wave of heavy new surfpunk that rocked 2015 and 2016 crested no higher than this record. "Annie" is just an awesome song. If you listen to a lot of this kind of stuff it might not stand out too much. It's just my wavelength, though, a tremendous album in my estimation.

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Ok! Ok. Tomorrow is...another day.

In Album Week 2022! Whoooooo!

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Went over to my parents and talked about this Argentinian professor's breakdown of this South Korean-born Swiss-German philosopher's newest book with my dad. Their names are Claudio Alvarez Terán and Byung-Chul Han. Real good to chew the fat with the old man. Not leaving the house much these days, but I really oughta go over there more. See: the third paragraph of this post. Time is valuable.

--JL

#23

One of the main things in life is to get away from everyone you ever knew and who ever knew you and learn who you are again. The person both behind and beyond the character you have created in order to survive this world. The more complete the vanishing act, the better. God will bring you back to those who in his wisdom, he has linked you. Some you will never see again, and that too is a mathematical and logical consequence of grace. Sad and sweet, like your own tears falling into your mouth can be. Even bitter partings and hardened hearts have their place in the pattern; some wounds must heal in another life, after the sufferer has already transformed, and the song undergoes a translation.

Simple, really, and never less than the very peak of elegance. 

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Nobility is no more than the relaxed and cheerful acceptance of ever-changing suffering punctuated by death, and the sublime joy of each profound and elongated moment of such radiance.

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Good to be back to work. It's a deep and satisfying sort of pleasure to hustle hard and break a sweat. I drank a fucking delicious glass of milk today. Drink raw milk from happy cows living on small wild-pasture farms, everyone. That boiled dead shit from the supermarket sucks a soft dick in an alley where the dumpster grease never stops trickling.

Took a short and pleasing walk with my mother and the family dog. I watched small brown poops squeeze out of his pink anus, and thought briefly about the sliding scale and many modifiers of human dignity.


--JL