Reports of my death…blah blah blah

"Pay no attention to the EEG behind the curtain."

I’m hoping to use my response to a recent comment on an old blog post (I know, they’re all old here) as a springboard to reinvigorate my latterly distinctly unbloggy ways. Down with dormancy!

 

Watch this space.

I’m nearly certain I’m going to resume blogging soon. The tides are lapping at the shore.

 

Suffixation

I recently read a strange and disturbing little book. I tend to be attracted to strange and disturbing books, little or othersized. This one, however, I’m not entirely sure about. It’s called Senselessness, and it’s written by Horacio Castellanos Moya. How could I resist a 142-page novella with glowing blurbs from Roberto Bolaño (author of the widely acclaimed 2666) and Russell Banks, the former evoking Buster Keaton and the latter referencing Franz Kafka? Here’s the synopsis from the flyleaf (yes, this paperback edition has an actual flyleaf! It’s akin to finding a triangular vent window on a new car!):

An alcoholic, atheist, sex-obsessed writer finds himself employed by the Catholic Church (an institution he loathes) to edit the testimonies of the survivors of slaughtered Indian villages. The writer’s job is to tidy up the 1,100 page report: “that was what my work was all about, cleaning up and giving a manicure to the Catholic hands that were piously getting ready to squeeze the balls of the military tiger.” Mesmerized by the eerie poetry of the Indians’ phrases, the increasingly agitated and frightened writer is endangered twice over: by the spell exerted over his somewhat tenuous sanity by the strangely beautiful heart-rending voices, and by real danger. The Church is hunting the military, but the military is still in charge of the country, and our booze-soaked writer is soon among the hunted – or is he paranoid? Or is he paranoid and one of the hunted?

 

“Everyone goes South, every now and then”

(original from MediaMatters.org)

It’s kind of cute how Fox has these little ‘oopses’ every now and again, especially when it’s suspiciously convenient (although laughably obvious) to their agenda. Many have pointed out the network’s recent ‘inadvertent’ party affiliation misidentification of South Carolina governor Mark Sanford after his return from extramartial affairs in Argentina and I don’t have much to add.

You see, I’m just using his prodigality as an excuse for a quick filler post and another fun, apropos song to share. Today’s multimedia tie-in is…

“Mi Confesión” Gotan Project from the 2006 album Lunático Gotan Project is a Paris-based, Argentina-influenced, tango-electronica group which collaborates with many different musicians and singers. On this track they enlist the aid of Buenos Aires-based rappers Koxmoz. It’s fun.

 

It’s a Small World After All

First thing, I assure you that I will not be including audio of that cloying song from the Disneyland/world/place/spot ride. The one that everyone loves to hate. I do hope that something appropriate occurs to me by the time I finish the post, because I’m really enjoying adding the audio tie-ins.

This isn’t exactly groundbreaking material in the on-line universe (I first encountered the phenomenon last November), but it’s been infesting my thoughts lately, so I may as well write about it.

from AnarBi's flickr photostream

 

Orphanalia

I am sooo tired of seeing that damn flapstick package every time I check the blog, so I’m finally posting something to displace it. Have had a patch of blogger’s block lately, unable to get any entries up here for various reasons.

My solution? Display the aborted posts succinctly and explain why they weren’t used.

 

Only … in … America (part 1 of ∞)

These are, I do not jest, categorized by the Jimmy Dean company as “Flapsticks.” It’s just so many kinds of wrong.