the mars volta; Omar; a vade mecum

I'm at Manic Coffee and I'm reading interviews with Omar Rodriguez-Lopez - one half of the Mars Volta ATDI creative powerhouse dichotomy. They're all about Octahedron vs. older stuff like Bedlam in Goliath and the pervasive thought throughout is that what Omar wanted for this record (Octahedron) is to bask in the types of songs that for me define the volta (the poetic shift) in the process or the arrangement of the tracks if you will. For those who don't know - the volta - in poetry is the break or shift in meaning/movement into another thought or idea or interpretation of the poem. It's telling that this is part of the name Omar and Cedric have chosen. There is a definitive break in the tracklistings of all the albums. Sometimes more than once. In De-Loused for me it was Televators. Frances the Mute - Miranda That Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore. This is gratifying for me because even though I love the uptempo salsa infused songs/tracks - the songs where they slow down are sometimes where you get to see most of the talent, the creativity, the imagination.

Miranda for example - I could listen to that song for the rest of my life (which I will), but it starts with the sound of night time and maybe wind, birds chirping in the background. Slowly other effects come in, there's a sound of a coyote (perhaps) and then there's the sound of a record player that's finished playing and is just rotating the vinyl with the needle mutedly skipping along. The coyote gets louder and you can hear Cedric making whining sounds, the wind comes through again. In a word, it's ominous. And you wait....and wait in this environment - is there some sort of wind instrument? Yes. Omar's guitar comes in and and the sounds get reversed and forwarded - and here's more trumpet. It sounds like a melody to play at the end of a cowboy western when the hero is about to go to battle. And Cedric says something completely nonsensical "I've always wanted to eat glass with you again" in the most heartbreaking voice you've ever heard in your life - and you want to cry, but you're lulled in the wings of his voice. It's so tender - he's caressing the song with his throat. "And when Miranda sang, everyone turned away, used to the noose they obey." Cedric's voice and the violin (I think) which has now joined the chorus are both incredibly fragile and weeping - completely juxtaposed with the content of the bordering on grotesque lyrics. The tempo picks up, as does the trumpet, the climax comes and goes, ends with a crescendo, goosebumps appear and we're left with the trumpet doing it's little thing - jazzy, with a hint of sad violin. The ghost of Jeremy Michael Ward can be heard in the way the sound effects are used.

This is the type of song Omar wanted to do a whole album full of - and he succeeded, that was his basis, his prototype, and he built on it. It's always gratifying when an artist heads in the direction that you (not necessarily expect) but are ready for. I'm glad he and Cedric don't try to re-create what they've done before, and I love the open-ness that I've learned from hearing albums of theirs that are continually changing, evolving, expanding. Grateful is how I feel that they're together in my era - so that I can experience them firsthand.

what if forensics finds the answers?

I know I said my next two entries would be about Wolverine and Christmas trees vs. atheism but it's been a strange week, so let me tell you why...

I've been off my meds. I hate admitting that I'm on something because I'm the last person who likes to admit weakness - which is funny because when I went to drop off my new med prescription I asked for some literature about the new stuff my doctor prescribed and this is what was written mid-page:

"Depression is caused by a combination of biochemical, genetic and environmental factors. It is in no way a sign of weakness".

As if Shoppers Drug Mart people were literally reading my mind. In October it was a year since I started on, well...whatever it was I was taking. It was great - I was able to step away from a situation and examine it without getting entangled, it also made me incredibly somnolent. So sleepy was I that I ended up missing a lot of school and a lot of life.

I recognize that there's more going on behind the curtain of my grey matter but it's just easier to ignore it when I'm trying to get through school. However there is overspill every now and again and it can get really messy. Especially in between doses - this has never happened before. So I don't know if I'm feeling like this because of an environmental factor, ie. something that's happened in the past week or so to set me off, or if it's overspill from the harrowing adventure of Bar&Niall, or if this is just how I always am.

I don't remember. What I am remembering is the anger. I used to be a really angry little kid - slamming doors to the point where hinges would break off. I do not for the life of me understand why I was that angry. Okay yes I do - but it seems like a bit of overkill for the situation I was in (which I'm not going to talk about because it's really not that big a deal and would be a meandering digression). As I got older though, specifically when I entered the age of part time jobs etc., I became inherently frustrated with people I found to be below an intelligence frequency that I was broadcasting on. I don't know if people in general frustrate me, or if it's people and their stupidity. When I worked at Pier1 with Karen, sometimes I would come upstairs from the stockroom and she would remark about how she could "totally see the cartoon steam coming from your ears".

I asked for the meds, which was after the end of Bar&Niall and at a point in my life where I knew I needed to get through school come hell or high water, I felt assuaged. Things were suddenly easier. I became a nicer person. I became really laid back. I wasn't as angry with the idiots that I worked for, or the idiots who worked for me (some of them), they maybe even began to not seem like idiots. I started talking to strangers more - when I felt it was socially appropriate.

And it feels like all of this somehow came to a halt on Saturday night, about a week or week and a half after going off the meds. I was grumpy, I had to keep reminding myself not to be a jerk to people, I had to compartmentalize and try to be nice, and it was really hard, for the first time in a long time. I decided to talk as little as possible for the rest of the night at work.

And this freaks me out, because I don't want to be that person. So I've decided not to be, I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I'll let you know how it's going every now and again.

But don't be afraid if the really angry version pops out once in a while. She has feelings too.

why I like Kanye, and you should too

I have said recently (post the T-Swizzle debacle) that he's like a jester in my court of hilarity. I defended him - because even though what he did to Swift was not cool, he at least had the guts to go out in a public forum and say what he really felt, and I respect that. So you'd think that the next thing I would talk about is his music, but no, I want to discuss something that, in my opinion, may be a little bit more important (in terms of Kanye).

The man knows how to dress. Sartorially - he is genial. In an industry where men wore baggy pants with their boxers showing, nightie type XXXXXXXL t-shirts, egregious bling, and Timberland booties, Kanye came out with tight pants, fitted shirts, sweaters and blazers, sometimes dress shoes, or interesting sneakers, and most of all he was, and is not afraid of bright colours. It also helps that he's, well, hot. So where am I going with this you ask? Well - Kanye sells millions of records, and along with that, he sells image. And thanks to his look - I don't have to be revolted by men in the streets trying to look like "rappers" anymore. Urban youth are dressing more and more like Kanye every day, straight leg jeans, leather bomber jackets, colourful sneakers, less bling - and it's joyous. The men's silhouette is visible again! Damn it's sexy.

Teenagers don't look like little hoodlums anymore! I attribute this to Kanye - I'm sure it was in the works before him - with subtle shifts in the zeitgeist, more interest in independent label bands, fashion going back to retro 80's looks, etc etc. Kanye came along at the right time and was able to harness these factors and translate them into a fractional part of his success.

So he's a bit full of himself - I would be too if I were him. Additionally - the guy likes Daft Punk, how cool is that?

Anyway - that's all I can think of right now, but it's enough - in my eyes. That and I like the vulnerability he showed in 808's and Heartbreaks, but that's another story.

someone get rid of her

I realize that by writing about it I'm just falling into the trap they've set up. Either hate it or love it, but either way, you'll have an opinion.

I'm talking about the new Lady GaGa video. I feel so dirty mentioning that here. Concept - possibly interesting. The dancing - terrible. The song - worst piece of crap I've listened to in a while. This girl just wants to be able to prance around in really expensive designer clothing and be like "look, look how good my taste is! Look how weird I am!" And it's really fucking annoying. There isn't really any coherence to the lineup of outfits she has in the video. Honestly it reminded me of a really brightly coloured wanna-be H.R. Giger set. The worst part is that she's supposed to make people want to dance. That song is not danceable. On top of all this she's not even consistent - she wears really interesting high concept couture, but then she has a pair of white sunglasses on that clearly say "Carrera". Make.Up.Your.Fucking.Mind.

*walks away grumbling about the irritating state of pop culture these days*

stories

I'm supposed to be doing laundry right now, and reading a book that I'm supposed to be handing an essay in on tomorrow. However, this weekend just flew by and I woke up with more symptoms of the ever reaching cold/flu, as if it had never left my system (3 weeks ago). I think I need to see an immunologist and nutritionist, but hey...that's not why I'm here. In the spirit of all the things I've been reading (and experiencing) in regards to candy, I have my own little tale. And maybe all that candy is why I'm sick, but I doubt it. Really.

When I was a child in communist Slovakia and my grandmother wanted to imbue me with a sense of right and wrong and the idea of punishment. She used to tell me a story about my mom and her two sisters. There was a type of candy they used to like; potato sugar (in Slovak, zemiakovy cukor). If they were good, sometimes one of my grandparents would bring some home. But three girls having a horrible sweet tooth makes for trouble (they were all brunettes too). They banded together and decided to pull off a heist of massive proportions. You know...for basically being a bit above toddler status. One stood watch at the kitchen door where my grandfather was sleeping (we had a bed in the kitchen, crazy huh), and the other stood at the end of the seemingly miles long hallway to the dining/living room where my grandmother was doing something, most likely sewing. I'm pretty sure my mom was the one who reached into the pocket of my grandfather's jacket and took out several crowns. Later the girls gorged on potato sugar, and if I'm going to hypothesize, I'd say that the reason they got found out was because they didn't want dinner.

Needless to say, grandfather was pissed (Ruh-rizzle!) and the girls wouldn't betray who did what, so they all got the spankings. I'd say it was probably worth it. I guess it definitely taught me a lesson because I never took money from my parents without asking, but it also made me incredibly curious about this "potato sugar" thing. They had stopped making it for a long time, and then eventually one day when I was about 5 or 6 my grandmother found some in the market and brought it home. At first I thought it was gross. It came formed like chocolate bars, so it seemed as if you could break it into pieces, but it was waaaaaaaay too hard. You'd have to suck on it, wear it down, and it was one of those acquired tastes. But I was determined to like it. It's so hard to describe the flavour, it was sweet but bitter, and the texture was to die for. I loved breaking off a piece and just....crunching it (probably ruining my molars with each gnash). And I miss it. I miss it a lot. I think I'll ask my mom about that story when I next see her.

On that note, the laundry ain't gonna do itself yo.

a vivid dissection that mocked the strut of vivisection

Things, things to write about....little things, big things. Stories about my life. Etc. Stories about other people's lives, about my imaginings of other people's lives. Stories about stories. Stories about sleep. Happiness. Why?

The doctor tells me not to drink caffeine. But it's the only thing that keeps me awake. I stay in bed all day. Don't want to go to school; get up for work. Should consider school a type of work, but it never works (hah). Never read when there's time, always find the best things when busy. Never realize how great the moments are until they are memories. Rhythms set off. Ideas running away with the birds, coming back with them the next season.

Feeling akin to people, finding people sympathetic. Means, means not to an end but to more ideas, more writing. Time. Never enough. Never enough time at the right time. How many seconds per second? Irritation. Just not enough of too much.

Distraction. Loss of direction. Split second decision resulting in the thrashings around of wakefulness.