The Music Post

So it occurred to me, whilst watching SNL, that I really love songs that feel like something is growing inside my brain.

 

I wish there was a better way of describing it than that. Words fall short.

 

The cacophony towards the end of ‘A Day In The Life’ does it. In fact, that’s what gave me the moment o’ epiphany about the whole thing. The beginning of ‘Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien’ does it as well. There’s an instrumental break in ‘Baba O’Reilly’ that does the job, and swathes of Pink Floyd. Were it just the Floyd and the Who that did it, I’d make a blanket assumption that I was enjoying ‘drug music’ without the benefit of drugs.

 

Which is not untrue, but the fact that I get the exact same sensation from Piaf pokes holes in any theory that limits the brain feeling to your typical stoner fare.

 

Back to SNL for a moment, BONUS SONG-AGE! ‘Get Back’ is one of my favourites, though it’s not applicable to the main ‘this music does things in my brain that alter my perception of the world and my own dimensional occupation of it’ thrust of the blog. I just enjoy it. Of course, commercials cut it short, but I have it, so I could, conceivably, listen to it any old time.

 

Sometime I should make a comprehensive list of the songs that affect me like this. I’d be interested in knowing if other people get that, but since the sensation is so difficult to describe (oh sure, you can get metaphysical, wax poetic, but there aren’t sentences to frame the physical sensation. It’s dizzying and lovely.

 

Okay, putting on ‘Brain Damage’ right now, because that and ‘Eclipse’ provide an excellent double whammy. As far as I can tell, the best high-off-music songs are either in the Pink Floyd school, or churchy music, which makes sense, since churchy music by definition wants to bring a closeness to God, perhaps a euphoric spirituality. And then the Piaf, which doesn’t fit the pattern at all, but golly, if it ain’t just fast becoming one of my favourite songs anyway. And of course, anything you hear live.

 

I saw a live performance of Les Mis with the high school French Club. We were up near the back of the house, but the music still reverberated in our ribcages. It was the most stirring thing. People being brought to tears with half the numbers. Great stuff.

 

On a separate-but-musical note– oh gosh, no pun intended, but I can’t bear to take it out now that I can’t unsee it– anyway, I’m trying to think about which composers are my favourites and why, and really backing up those opinions with favourite pieces and movements, and the language and music theory to boot. Classical music, contemporary film scores, any/all of it, really, but I’d like to be more knowledgeable in general about my music tastes.

 

(ending note- after Floyd, ‘The Shadow of Your Smile’ by The Emperors of Swing came on, and listening to it makes me feel tres film noir. I might need to compose a sort of life-soundtrack around that so I can skulk around in trenchcoats in the rain, biting off jaded bon mots before retiring to an office where the only light comes from the streetlamps, through venetian blinds… It’s possible I put too much thought into that.)

 

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Back Online and Puffy-Faced

Item number one:

Jimmy, drop the balloons!

I DID IT!

I fixed my Internet! Apparently, a proxy server is something my computer shouldn’t even use. I still don’t know why it thought it needed one. One that didn’t function. But it’s gone now, and the important thing is, I DID IT!

 

Okay, now onto the second thing:

If this blog seems a little lemon wacky hello, it’s because I’m blogging whilst all drugged up. If this blog seems exactly the same as other things I write, then ruh-roh.

 

Why am I blogging on drugs? Haven’t I always been the, you know, stop-having-fun guy in terms of doing anything on drugs? I believe I can answer any questions with one simple picture:

Freedom!

It's always hard to say goodbye...

I just got a filling, and then, had two teeth removed. It turns out they were baby teeth that never fell out. Anyway, I’m anaesthetic-resistant, so they had to just keep drugging and drugging me until I no longer attempted to scream around the two pairs of hands and several instruments shoved in my mouth.

 

AND, I get Vicodin. Which I have on good authority tastes like delicious candy.

 

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Vicodin in no way tastes like delicious candy.

Good authority

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: Vicodin in no way tastes like delicious candy. Doctor House is not a good authority. Do not listen to Doctor House.

 

Anyway, I got the prescription when my back was out, but after getting the pills I haven’t needed them, so now I’ve got them for my teeth.

 

And all the rest:

 

Listened to some Edith Piaf (among other things) both to and from the dentist’s office (I have to go to the one in Turlock because they’re set up to do nitrous, which I need for any dental procedure, and the one I used to go to no longer does it). Although the Nitrous dizziness wore off before I listened to ‘Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien’ on the way home, which is kind of a shame because it begins with this swelling of music that sort of makes me feel strange and floaty without being drugged, so I imagine that when you’re all dizzy from breathing in various gasses, it’s amazing. Next time I get dental work done, I’m loading up on Pink Floyd, by the way, because hello, ‘Comfortably Numb’.

 

On a subject completely unrelated to dental work, I enjoyed the Christmas ep of Glee greatly. I teared up a little when ‘Santa’ gave Britney the little speech on patience. Possibly at other points, too. And Kurt, why so adorable? I want you back in glee club where you belong, so they can get rid of that girl who’s apparently not into being in glee club (I missed her joining, but I’m told she’s a horrible addition).

 

Someone out on the interwebs was complaining that Kurt and Blaine were given ‘the date rape Christmas song’ as their duet, and I have to disagree, because A) the story reason for their singing the song was completely un-creepy, and B) modern versions of ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’ are generally done in a winking manner which removes the creeptacular mickey-slipping overtone and instead adds a coy emphasis to the lyric ‘At least I’m gonna say that I tried’. Actually, my favourite modern cover of the song (aside from Glee) was a gender-reversed version, with Liza Minelli and Alan Cumming. It is hilarious.

 

Still on Glee- Ed O’Neill is an ass. I mean, it’s one thing to say your coworker should have won the Emmy for Best Supporting Actress, that’s a nice show of support. It is another thing to flat out say that the woman who did win did not deserve to. Beyond that, saying that Sue is a one-note character is just forehead-smackingly stupid. I mean, maybe he just doesn’t watch the show. I can understand thinking that if he’s not a regular viewer. But several episodes have given Sue some surprising depths. And guess what– even if they hadn’t, we’re talking about Glee. Over-the-top is de rigeur, and a cartoonishly evil villain fits into the universe splendidly. Also, Jane Lynch is Jane Lynch and not Sue Sylvester, so hitting that one note consistently is still acting, in a way which pleases fans and critics. But that doesn’t matter, because she’s not a one-note character. It’s perfectly fine to disagree with the judging, I mean, nobody agrees with every award every year, and there’s nothing wrong with expressing your disagreement tactfully, but that statement? Was not tactful.

 

And when Aspergirl says you lack tact, then brother, you lack tact.

Vent Ire to Prevent Explosion? Y/N

This is a fandom rant, so if you don’t care about that sort of thing, then go on your way. It’s all right, I won’t be offended. I promise.

Are they gone? Okay, good, because it’s about to get REAL in here.

I’m not on any forums specific to Glee or anything, but I do love it, and I do spend time on the Internet (when I can– I’m typing on a very tiny keyboard right now because I’m having a proxy server issue. If anyone knows what a proxy server is, feel free to let me know what I should be doing, the error screen has been no help), so I catch bits and pieces of the fan chat.

I cannot BELIEVE how many people there are now who ‘ship Kurt/Karofsky. (For the unenlightened, to ‘ship something is to root for or desire a relationship between the characters/objects indicated, and is short for ‘relationship’. As a term, it became popular in fandom in general after X-philes used it to refer to the fans who wanted Mulder/Scully to happen)

The logical, adult part of me believes fandom is for everybody. I’m not an exclusionist. I want to share the love, there’s enough to go around. But when I see that there are fans who think this would be ‘more interesting’ or (pardon the soft retching noises that accompany this statement) ‘hotter’, I think ‘How can there be so many fans of this show who have never been bullied?’, and then I think ‘Get the [expletive redacted] out of MY fandom!’

Because I have been bullied, thank you very much, and the idea of dating one of my tormentors? It’s vile, it’s wrong, and to imagine having to put up with the shoving and the name calling, and then on top of that, to think that there was a sexual aspect to my bullies’ motives? I’ve been out of that environment for YEARS, and I still feel unsafe when I think about that. I know the kind of fear that constantly being targeted instills, and having a relationship with the person who does this to you? It’s not ‘interesting’, and it’s certainly not ‘hot’. At best it implies some kind of Stockholm Syndrome-esque coping mechanism, and any way you slice it the whole thing begins with sexual assault. NOT romantic.

There are other fans who don’t think they should date but still try to cast Karofsky in a sympathetic light after the revelation, with the belief that ‘he’s hurting/struggling’, and ‘they should at least become friends now’. Ha ha, no. Hurting and struggling is not carte blanche to assault, sexually or otherwise, anybody else. No one should be compelled to befriend someone based solely on the fact that that person is struggling with something you were strong enough to own. Certainly no one should be expected to befriend someone who put them in mortal terror.

Will I be upset if they become friends on the show? Well, I think it’s completely unlikely, but if there was a realistic portrayal of Karofsky growing up, making a heartfelt apology, changing his ways… I still think it would take years before they could approach ‘friendship’. And I don’t think the writers are really going to try for that. They have no motive to do so.

Okay, now is the time for me to /rant and apologize for taking up your time with my negativity. I’m aware that you can be a fan of Glee without having been the bullied artsy kid in school, though it seems strange to me. I missed last night, so I’m still hung up on the previous week’s issues and fanwank, but I’ll get over it.  If you actually hung with me through all that, then thank you.