Big. Luscious. Golden Globes.

Managed to find a live stream of the 67th annual Golden Globe Awards nominations announcement. John Krasinski was lame. Dianne Kruger was adorable. Justin Timberlake continues to become re-whitified (thanks SNL for making him realize he is not in fact a black man). All of that aside, the list looks pretty good. I will have more to say about this tomorrow, as I dissect the list of nominees and form my game plan for covering all of this cinematic territory. But for now...to bed.

PS I tripped up the stairs at work and broke my big toenail off. It feels like bees are continually stinging me...with hot knives. Gotta love pain killers.

Here's the list.

Not Waiting for the Man (but I sorta miss the feeling)

It's probably because it's cold and dark outside. Maybe it's because times are slow. Nowhere to go. I wouldn't go back there. Even if invited. But I can't lie and say my interests aren't ignited, when I hear these tunes. Make me feel there again. Sitting. Listening. Sliding in...down. Curling up. Then fall asleep.

Joy Division - Ceremony Slowdive - Blue Skied an' Clear Ride - Nowhere My Bloody Valentine - To Here Knows When The Velvet Underground - After Hours Air - Run Sigur Ros - Andvari Slowdive - Goldenhair (Syd Barett cover) The Velvet Underground - Heroin The Velvet Underground - I'm Waiting for the Man

Ode to My Escape

What I’d give, what I’d give To soar once more, on my back, on the floor What I’d do, what I’d do To touch, but not such Who I’d choke, who I’d choke Honey, this ain’t no joke I’m starving for a slap in the face A lazy hand, the whip of the wind And smoke…give me smoke.

Where it be, where is he? So frail…my betrayal. Twenty bucks, twenty fucks He left me waiting, always hesitating. Get some more, little whore That’s really all I want you for Think I’ll beg? I won’t beg But the smell, my hunger Ketchup and dull drying-paint swoon me.

Here I cower, growing sour Illegalities, impracticalities If I could, oh, I would Even though I tell myself ‘no’ It hurts, it hurts The pains, in spurts, From head to feet—bone to meat I miss you…foil and black gum.

My lungs expand for you At your command, they do It’s music that sends me now And teeth bleed dry And hair runs thin And skin grows lines And heart skips on Painfully, sinfully wanton.

Here He Comes Again

Gravitate towards me luxuriant smoke Down my passage of civility Incredulous speech invites you Welcome unwelcome guest

Sear my lining, drown my brain Make me never feel again Numb hairs stand on end You are my dearest friend

Strewn across a couch or bed The floor could never please me more Itching in ways one shouldn't scratch Like the pocks leaving scars when nails become arduous

Cough red smoke, vessels in the air You’ve come undone, inside out Stomach pains, my supple veins A pierce is just too much

So for now, inhaling is how I swallow him Here he comes again In me…in me… And for you, I acquiesce.

I Miss the 90's (The Early 90's)

It sounds odd. I know. Who could miss dingy flannel, step-cuts, and British Knights? Me. Sorta. I miss the things that comforted me as a young person. Doc martens, beaten to hell after having my parents wait in line for hours to pay over $100 for a pair. Pre-Emo teen angst. Rock with a purpose. Pop with a heart. Icon's like Madonna, Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins, My Bloody Valentine. Shit, even Salt-n-Pepa. Spinderella cut it up one time. Looking back at middle school, high school, my early adulthood...there was bliss. There were hardships. Times we as young, hormonal people can't see the end of (like climbing a dome, revolution after revolution, with no end...). I find the world so changed. We are days away from 2010 and I miss the 90's more than ever. There was a darkness about that time. An enveloping darkness that at once caused fear in my heart and resulted in a sense of home. These days people are obsessed with fame. Popular culture has evolved away from the Andy Warhol "everyday but overlooked" and become the golden ring that all dream of attaining. Everyone wants to be known. Everyone seeks fame. Celebrity is available to anyone. Has post-modernism killed "special"? Is the internet the culprit? Remember when MTV still showed music videos? Remember when TRL killed it? It all happened in the 90's. Here are two songs (and a TV show trailer) that came to mind today. No reason. No grand purpose. Just because...they remind me.

REM - Everybody Hurts: This video defined my early teen years. Dealing with obesity, depression, and fear of being outed this song gave me peace. Bjork - Possibly Maybe: This takes me back to my sophomore year. Bjork was and always will be a goddess in my eyes. She will be imitated (Imogen Heap, Lady Gaga) but never duplicated. My So-Called Life: If you are a child of the 90's and didn't have an emotional connection to this show (and didn't cry and want to boycott ABC for canceling it after one season), then we will probably never understand each other.