People Search For Very Strange Things

I was looking through the stats for the blog -- something I've never done because I never noticed that tab before -- and despite there being a large amount of pageviews (honestly never would have guessed that many people actually came here, unless of course, it's just one person who really really likes it for some strange reason).  I did notice that there are some very strange things being searched for, such as "latex weather balloon" and "daughter lipstick fuck".  Who are these people?  And moreover, why are they searching for it here?

Oh, and for some other reason the largest contingent of readers that I have come from Russia.  Bizarre, that, but well, "Hi, Russians!" :-)

I could live a million years...

On his blog, Mushroom Cloud of Hiss, Chris Allen has recently been posting some rather good reviews of different albums (remasters, a couple new albums, and some classics from Roxy Music).  I`m not sure what inspired the recent spate of posts, but it`s led to a decent amount of reading, as well as a few thoughts on revisting the past myself.  Granted, I would undoubtedly come at things from an entirely different strata (I had the urge to go back and listen to some early REM and NIN discs recently, so I`d probably start there). 

I mean, I`m still waiting for my copy of Rotten Roma Casino to arrive from Germany and the new Ulver disc doesn`t arrive until sometime later this year (weird considering that there really aren`t that many days left and an announcement still hasn`t been made).

Biting off more than you can chew...

I think I've almost perfected it into a new art form.  It's like spinning plates, bowls, glasses, fire hydrants, and otters all at once.

Random Note

Archive.org's practice of actually archiving this is very strange.  Sometimes links will work, sometimes not.  Sometimes the pages that you search for will come up empty, but a link through to that page will work.  And by this, I mean pages wholly with archive.org, not external pages that are now defunct.

The River

I always wonder about nostalgia. 

It's a strange emotion; longing combined with reflection, wistfulness and a mix of happiness and sadness.  I guess conceptually I can understand people who think that high school, university, their 20s, their 30s, whatever, were the best times of their lives -- how there are memories of good times, memories of things being simpler, certain people being around.  Missing someone or something can be difficult, debilitating even, but you can never go back.  Only forward.  One step at a time.

Cherish the memories of the good times, but don't become trapped by the past.  While certain elements may be "better" than "now", those times certainly weren't necessarily simpler than things now.  I've thought about different times myself, wondering where I got different ideas, how I did different things when I was younger, and where certain passions or abilities went.  Treading water, maybe? 

This Too Will Pass Away

When it comes to personal mnemonics, I tend to code most things to music.  As such, just thinking of an individual song can allow me to recall complex, lengthy information, scenes and such.  I used the technique regularly when studying in university; code a book to a CD, keep it in my short-term memory, and then "read" the book, along with the accompanying soundtrack, during an exam.  The ability to remember the entire contents of a textbook fades, but fragments remain whenever I listen to a particular song from any of the albums.  I also tend to encode memories to listening to songs, just as a certain scent, taste, or touch might trigger something.

As such, I've not been able to listen to Puscifer's "C" is for [Please Insert Sophmoric Genitalia Reference HERE] for the past few months, since it would elicit an emotional response of either tears or illness.  Overcome, I usually turn it off.  Which is sad in itself, considering that the EP is just that damn good.  I was listening to the album during the months of November and December while I was working on a short story ["22"] which I've posted an excerpt of elsewhere and the songs "Potions" and "Polar Bear" both highly influenced pieces of the text.  It would almost be funny that the lyrics to "Potions" are relevant both to the story, the roots of the story, and the resulting events following writing the story.

Reading this week's issue of Fables (#95), with the second part of its story focusing on Rose Red, also provided a contribution to a kind of perfect storm regarding memories that I'd rather not keep.  It utilizes what looks like part of the direct text from Grimm's version of Snow White & Rose Red; something that I used as a springboard for part of the aforementioned story, after one of the primary characters related a truncated narration of the fairy tale.  Roses...

I decided to listen to the EP again tonight...

...because I can't sleep...

I've been clicking the "Next Blog" link at the top blogger bar for about an hour now, just seeing what people have decided to post.  Most are about as interesting as watching paint dry, especially the preponderance of Christian blogs proselytizing at me while playing midi hymns (I thought midi files on pages were banned back in the 90's?), but then I guess the same is true if you just randomly came across this page in your travels.  It only ever really matters to the person writing it, so well...

What I did kind of find interesting was the sheer amount of people, all with the same basic template, who are "Bringing home..." whomever; the adoption blogs.  Maybe I'm just overly cynical, but most of the adoption sites just seem like so much a scam, even to the point where I swear that some of the blogs themselves are made up since several of them seem to duplicate the same material.

Out of My Head

I'm a fairly simple kind of guy. I wake up in the morning, I take a shower, I put on my clothes, eat breakfast, go to work, yada yada yada yada. The same as just about everyone else. I do, however have a weakness. Whereas some people are addicted to caffeine, or alcohol, or fluffy bunnies, I have an addiction to media. It doesn't matter what it is -- print, film, radio, music -- I don't care, I'll listen to it. ...or watch it. ...or read it. It doesn't matter. I always have to be reading, watching, or listening to something, even if I'm doing something else at the time. I have to continuously have some kind of sensory input using some part of my faculties.

It's not enough for me, though, to just watch, read, or listen to something, that should be readily apparent to anyone who's been visiting this website or reading my work for any period of time. My highly critical, analytical brain has to try to make some kind of sense out of the stimuli that results in essays, reviews, and just plain old incoherent ramblings. In my attempts to further my own critical analysis abilities, I've been writing comics and graphic novel reviews for some time now, along with the occasional CD review here and there, and now I come to this Spin the Shiny Plastic Circle. This is my attempt to be a film critic. Kind of. More like a film on DVD critic. Music critic too, because they come in handy dandy plastic circle form as well.