Hey Mr. Deejay, put a record on, I wanna dance with my Baby...
Posted Aug 28, 2000
Thank you Madonna, for taking on the task of teaching children what 'bourgeoise' means after the general California public educational system has given up.
This was acknowledged after my adorable baby sister used the word in a normal conversation over the phone.
"Wow! Where did you learn that?" (I am aware that Grey Davis has thoroughly destroyed any possibility of her picking this up in school, and I hadn't reached Moliere in my "cram stuff into my baby sister's mind whenever I happen to see or speak to her" series.)
"The Madonna song. It's cool."
Let us compare this to Grey Davis' plan to practically eliminate electives (Music, foriegn languages, art, practical science, AVID (a programme that helps underprivledged kids get into college), anything that promotes culture and beauty and freedom of expression, etc.) and concentrate on math and science because quote "It makes more money".
Have I bitched about this guy enough, yet?
Improvments are Unnatural.
Posted Aug 6, 2000
MSN draws in smiley faces. I can't handle it. And what's with this alabaster? It's just not normal. Decadence. You can't even see my page. That's just wrong. WRONG! I'm forced to complain into my journal.
The Attempted Official Guide Entry Flame has been Rekindled!
Posted Jun 25, 2000
An' this is how it happened - after nearly 24 continuous hours of having Falco's "Rock Me Amadeus" in my head, I started thinking about that crazy Amadeus himself, and how he never really DID rock me, 'cos I find him music rather flowery and superficial. If you hear Mozart, you know it's Mozart. And not in a good way. Too flowery, no sense of passion. At least, not the fun, powerful, good kind. Like Botecelli- he was good, but only at one thing. He painted chicks, Mozart composed sparkle-dust. Over an' over. An' over.
So, after being generally dissappointed in my conclusion that Falco was wrong and Amadeus can't really rock me all that well, I started thinking of all the people that could. Beethoven's daddy wanted him to be another Mozart. Let's be glad HE wasn't. HE had raw passion. Then I thought of the guy (I dunno who) that did the Gypsy Dance with the violins. He was russian or something, I think. That was gold. It was love an' happiness an' sunshine all mixed in with worldliness an' knowing that you've got a mortal body, but you know you can use it to dance an' so it's okay. I like him. I like Strauss, he rocks me. Tchaikovsky was... er.... sad, but his music conveys that so nicely. Then I remembered Orff.
Orff - Now that's a dude that can rock me better than Amadeus ever could.
I've always said that people who obssess over Orff frighten me, but that can be directed back to only one young man in the 9th (I was in 8th) grade who would have frightened me whether he listened to Orff or not.
Not that Orff isn't frightening at times, mind you.
But I suppose I'm frightening in that case. No big deal, really. At least I'm a cultured sort of frightening.
Orff took the beauty of nice, big, classicalish, lots-of-instruments-to-control and so you need real talent music an' applied the forbidden stuff to it. Even subject matter is no longer boring. No more Shakespearean novels retold (though that subject matter isn't boring either, only jaded). An' how much greater can you get than poems written by defrocked monks? He took really really good, powerful music, and then went even further by showing that scholars - because the lyrics were written in Latin, long dead by the 1930's and with incredibly impressive rythm and poetic beauty - want and think about and do anything anyone else could do, an' they don't suddenly become dumb, or anything. They just... lose their frock.
So I'm going to do an entry on Carmina Burana.
Maybe the guy himself, if I feel like it.
Ranting is fun.
Posted Mar 25, 2000
I have the urge to write more guide entries, but I can't think of what they should be about. All I can think of is the insane price of gas ($2.00 a gallon!) and possible choices for dinner. Hmm.
Posted Mar 18, 2000
I'm NOT better. Now I'm SICK. *sigh*
Fenchurch M. Mercury