Melon Scissors

2003-12-22T17:31:00.000-08:00

well. i may not be hip enough to keep up with this blog experiment.

happy holidays.

2003-11-10T00:28:00.000-08:00

kylie minogue's voice is obscene. it is so implausably kittenish and you imagine her with toes pointed out in little curved out angular poses writhing around like some kind of robot built out of pillows. when she sings i hear the saliva sauntering off her tongue and her breath materializes into muscle men doing dramatic flashdance congo lines out of her mouth. then she purrs and lets out some ridiculous high pitched flirt and my blood pressure rises a little. truth is, i'm not sure whether this is good. it's possible. she raps better than her sister and madonna combined though.

2003-11-04T22:29:00.000-08:00

i have a complex concerning glitchy bitchiness and all that intricate click clack stuff like twerk or whatever but also venetian snares. that meticulous feeling that tickles through the headphones. the complex is that i think it's something i really rate but play off because i don't understand the software or don't really want to put the work in. it's peripheral but i wanna slay like the best of them still. cake and eating it. what can i do to get "over" it. everybody else is over it i reckon! sometimes i even get suckerpunched into a highBPM=better mindstate and then think oh what the fuck like reading something i wrote while under the influence and cringing. indulgence in distractions without falling into the hole of a single distraction isn't indulgence at all is it? what to do what to do....

2003-10-31T21:18:00.000-08:00

i was at my parents' place the other day listening to the michael mayer peel session when my dad walked in and said "hey this music is weird". i don't know what he meant. the music is of that infamous "microhouse" variety, here w/ steady beat, melodic swirls, crackly furnace textures, a bit magenta. i asked "why weird?" and he replied "i dunno it's just... WOAH... weird" (hand motions). for me this is music as therapy, as nursing a hangover or something, i don't exactly want to *move* to it, but sway with the momentum of my internal organs surely glowing and pulsating in sync w/ the sound. as for moving... maybe that richard X?

2003-10-28T00:27:00.000-08:00

you know fran? long sticks dipped in strawberry, uh, cream? or something or another, a japanese snack dessert.

right now i have no fran. i have an empty fran box. and i am fondling this box. why? because i've spent too much time on the internet today and this fran box, this specimen of japanese package design, has become a new experience for me. it is tangible, has a shape and texture and glossy pink material on the front. the lid opens and closes like the top of a pacman chomper box. there is a preciousness to physical objects after so much internet, i am afraid of damage and harm, i never use novelty stickers i pick up at concerts, i save the inserts of book covers.

likewise, i dont want to do computer music. i want to drop pots and pans and swim through them. but more than that i want to take somebody along with me.

2003-10-15T19:45:00.000-07:00

*gasp* (for air).

2003-10-06T12:19:00.000-07:00

been very busy with busy things such as upgrading my computer to OS X with custom desktop screensaver and icons. i installed a gloomy bear into my system to eat up my junk. i finally got the new mame going so i was able to play sexy parodius. sleepy right now, mind has been numb, on work, not play. talking a lot to my good friends - i have new artillery, time for new fireworks. ******** i'm so anxious but there's hardly any room to breath.

there is a scene in attack the gas station (korean comedy) where one of the delinquents has a flashback showing his dad destroying all his paintings, smashing them over his head. "this is why i am fucked up and want to fuck shit up" the movie is saying. manipulatively played but for some reason i just fell right in like this flimsy emotional backstory was sharing some profound secret with me.

2003-09-26T01:04:00.000-07:00

it's funny how when talking to other college girls who have san-x keychains and cute bunny erasers and pink pens, they always play it off "oh i've had this since junior high, i know it's kinda stupid, teehee!" if this attitude keeps up they'll give all this cool stuff to goodwill before they hit mid-20s. i suppose there is a kind of completely vapid candy pixie that many girls are ashamed to see themselves become, so fake, so childish, so unprofessional. and while it is something of a mental disorder when taken to an extreme, it's sometimes all one has to wash the grey out of life and spring into at least some vestige of imagination. isn't it the normal story to fit adulthood and exile the rest into a closet of memories? no i don't really condone living in the closet either, but i think i believe in reconciliation. "that's a bit immature, *scoff*scoff*" yeah, well, eat a d-

2003-09-24T03:02:00.000-07:00

spending time outside just sitting out on the steps at 3 in the morning is a funny exercise in despair. cigarette butts all over the place, lights are out and i place my hand over my heart and feel the polyrhythms of pulse vs. cricket chirps. there's a shopping cart, estranged, in the back of my apartment and i sometimes ride around in it aimlessly. through a distant window i see a student on the phone with his mate talking about computer games. but i don't focus on him, i focus on the night. looking at the messy patterns of tree leaves and the lavender sky i feel like a farce moment, like when you prance around the streets with new romantics in your headphones and a dramatic gesture knocks the things right out your ears. the silence permeating between passing strangers is as startling and humorous as it is unbearable.

the calm before the before the before the before the before the before the storm. ?

2003-09-16T22:51:00.000-07:00

there is a sense of deep distress that has been banging through my head like a pinball machine that has become a pinball bouncing off other arcade games and the stranded kids playing them. all these sparks and shiny lights and blown fuses with descending whirrrrrr bleep sounds, damn it i am tired.

walking around today i saw a gorilla using a payphone. except it was actually the back of a man. life constantly disappoints in this manner. when the stop light turns green i sometimes expect a giant ectoplasm green arm to reach out and propel the vehicles forward.

what i've realized is it's rare that i'm able to talk about these thing which are actually on my mind. it winds me up to the point where my spring is glowing hot heat from being suppressed for so long, all cramped and loaded. one day i fear a big bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzkrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr and lots of plastic spinning arms smashing everything to bits. except when life disappoints then, i'll realize everything has gone awry beyond repair.

2003-09-15T04:40:00.000-07:00

been playing more parodius this weekend. also neopocket fighting games. 'research'. after these exhaustive studies i will report back soon i hope. for now it's too late and i have class tomorrow.

2003-09-09T02:11:00.000-07:00

tentative title for album i will work on is Melon Massacre. kinda, yeah hey you read the blog, now buy the album!

the challenge is not to do the 'obvious' and make a big bang universe of cute electronics and girly cheers and weird silly noises. i think about the game parodius often and its colorful anything-goes brilliance. playboy bunnies riding missles, penguins and pirate cats, everything deformed and exploding pastries. but also... the sheer destruction of countless little glowing projectiles, rainbow brittle calamity shatter *BOOM*. in my mind they are high hats and snares, robot songs and glitches. i will do the super deformed big bang, but i guess i want to surpass everything in dizzying catastrophic detail.

oh and i hope it'll set the mood for dancing.

2003-09-07T16:24:00.000-07:00

another record i cherish in 03, mu's afro finger and gel. you are trotting along slightly violently in jagged awkward positions on the dancefloor, bass, super rhythm, mind a bit warped from mysterious substances, all stretched out and twisted over a few times. wait. you're not moving, on the contrary everything BUT you is moving, you're lodged in a trash heap catatonic with all your pocket change stolen. the cute japanese girl yelling obscenities in your ear was actually just a torn plastic bag thrown over a stack of cardboard boxes. oh. a cat knocks over a tin can and the reverberation jackhammers through your skull. laugh, ha ha hee hee. was that you or perhaps some intoxicated ghost or perhaps the return of that fucking bitch making a mockery of you!! oh no! nobody loves you..... *screech*

2003-09-04T20:57:00.000-07:00

the injured 6 year old: adorable, hurt, softly empowered, her snapshot of pain defies the forced sympathy framing her, she is hope. the mangled purity - to identify with. a desire to protect, support, become one with. perhaps a motherly intuition. but also recognition, again identification. day after day straddling this strange circle. breaking the cycle might mean drowning in the lake with white gown flapping over head. the poor child then. only a canceling out, some life. what else can be done.... i wonder.

2003-09-01T22:19:00.000-07:00

visited family and friends this weekend.

train ride there.... basement jaxx's upcoming kish kash.
delerium, sexy purrs hitting the ceiling and crashing down again. touch your body, on the street, saunter and stride and writhe and contort into strange exhilirating little angles. plug it in plug it in. pot boiling over in a frothing density of squiggles and ahhh ahhhs and leopard rowrs and DRUMS. i feel fine, feel great. people to see places to go, conversations to be had, laughter to be unleashed. right here's the spot indeed!

train ride back.... avalanches - since i left you.
momentum again but now swirling wistul, evaporating good times and missed oppurtunities, welcome to paradise but really only a thousand tiny looks back at illuminated hearts, relaxation, and freshly paved roads. leaving it behind, dashing by a thousand more snapshots - everybody else's - soon to become memories peppered across the landscape. surely hardship lies ahead but for now... a strange tingle of good naturedness in 3/4 and 4/4 time.

2003-08-28T02:07:00.000-07:00

i was reorganizing my CDs and realized that i was missing CDs by herbert, green velvet, and swayzak. now.... this is too much of a coincidence to just be misplacing. a THIEF has been here. a HOUSE FAN THIEF! i am outraged but 1/3 ok since my herbert wasn't in the NOW-STOLEN jewel case. yeah fuck you thief. that green velvet and swayzak are also promos so haha shoddy print out sleeve art for you.

2003-08-27T02:11:00.000-07:00

this week, besides being back to school, is japanese free improv week. so says i anyhow. of course otomo yoshihide and ground zero, sachiko M, toshimaru nakamura, haco, ami yoshida, ISO..... those guys. what i kind of like but sorta don't is how prolific everybody is here and how everybody guests and collaborates with everybody else so frequently. like a playpen of weird modified instruments, turntables, no-memory samplers, oscillators and stuff with a class of luminaries just running amok and then like 14 albums come out! i really ought to spend more than a mere week on this generally long attention span music. right now i'm listening to ground zero's comsume red, when the bass starts switching up around 2/3s through and the whole drone feel shifts like tectonic plates something in my gut wrenches in a grand way.

2003-08-21T20:13:00.000-07:00

AIM moments...

Me: hey
Me: http://www.sykospark.net/emo/idiotic.gif
Friend: whut, emo?
Me: did i show you this?
Friend: no, he heh
Friend: that's pretty good
Me: i htink it was in earnest though!
Friend: i admit that i carry notebook for deep thoughts
Me: it was like in some mainstream mag
Friend: i must be emo
Friend: that's sad
Friend: must have been a joke
Me: nobody will ever know
Friend: right, irony
Me: emo sucks
Friend: h aha, yep
Me: i just imagine a bunch of guys who just ate lots of lemons and make that face forever
Friend: i never liked those converse shoes

2003-08-21T01:06:00.000-07:00

gah. place holder.

2003-08-15T18:27:00.000-07:00

you know how when people get tired they sometimes become delirious and act a lot more whimsical and odd than they usually do? i wonder if certain sleep patterns can leave a permanent stain of this kind of mode so even after a good 12 hour sleep the residue of thin-consciousness madness remains forever. rinse repeat and accumulate into transcendent half-asleepness? general fatigue zen. drinking helps speed things up maybe.

i've been driving around listening to the Syzygys album on Tzadik - warbly microtonal organ melodies and so on - and the world is suddenly in fishlens. very humorous. i had my friend listen to the great great "Fauna Grotesque" and he said it made him tipsy. i agree, this is the precise effect and how urgently marvellous! physiological manipulation and sleep deprivation and life and all of it's atrocities becomes irreversibly funhouse mirrored, kind of scary but soon enough just funny big balloon heads all over the place. woahhh

2003-08-13T02:26:00.000-07:00

my grandparents are visiting from japan and they brought me a DVD of Tamala 2010! thoughts:

- usually in drastic style splitting/dichotomizing (see musicals like Dancer in the Dark, The Hole) i get nervous that there'll be a tackiness to the proceedings. in Tamala there is a 60s anime vs. CG design split which at first didn't work for me but the film's puzzling-ness somehow makes it fit (another tossed off fragment).

- much less hyperkinetic than i would have expected seeing the preview's zombie cat and gang beatings and rocket ships. the zombie actually just sits around and speaks over a cup of milk for most of his screen time! my anticipation sugar levels had to adjust.

- once adjusted, i realized the film is almost... solemn. capitalist infestation and howls of ruin across the city of Hate. tamala's forever-one-year oldness + aloof cute mischief + "fucking"-laden tiny voice = a kind of sad distracted creature. also linchpin of fate for the cat universe. poignant.

- there's a weird symbolic hierarchy. sex = eastwood gun barrel, anaconda bitch human mom, gay buff dog with S&M mouse (later eats tamala!), drag queens. the characters all have some extra quirk. then there's the whole corporation apocalypse going on.

- ? i have to see it again. i don't know why i'm starting to think all studenty after watching a long cartoon about a punk cat. "fucking goodbye". what does it mean.

2003-08-06T01:27:00.000-07:00

digit's favorite music of 03 part 2

Colleen - Everyone Alive Wants Answers
Broadcast - HaHa Sound
Fannypack - So Stylistic
Syzygys - Complete Studio Recordings
Aco - Irony
Melt Banana - Cell-Scape
Dizzee Rascal - Boy in Da Corner
Fonica - Ripple
Olivia - Merry and Hell Go Round
Noriko Tujiko - From Tokyo to Naiagara

2003-08-04T23:57:00.000-07:00

lately i've been listening to tommy february6 aka tommy heavenly6 aka kawase tomoko, lead singer of the brilliant green. i like her. re:february6, she pulls a jpop idoru kawaii that is imaginative cutesy utopia without being pure caricature or flash flash dance attack etc etc. somehow her vapidity and pom pom dream world comes across as more... sincere, maybe? half-asleep, half-intoxicated, no guise, an almost matter-of-factly kind of cute. hey bad boy, it just is. there's something intimate about it all, she (and we) feel like dancing to j-nutrasweet ladytron beats under the baby blue moon. but not at the club or house party, just in our silly spin-spin-sugar heads with a hallucinated cast of synchronized cheerleaders. here it is warm, fuzzy, and crazy.

2003-08-03T22:20:00.000-07:00

at a friends last night we were playing that game Fatal Frame discussing how if Silent Hill is rusty musty burgundy-red-brown this game is all shadowy and ethereal green-glow-blue. the color is key to the fear factor i believe, stubborn brown, tactile, visceral, industrial durability, potentially slicing, sawing, stabbing... clanging, denting, deteriorating. rotting nurses with the fatal syringes. "psychological" but ultimately a texas chainsaw kind of massacre. Fatal Frame is a lot more ringu/juon new asian horror, sedated blurrs and myriads of blended ambient haunts. there's more of a corner-of-eye, absence-based kind of fear. *oooooooohhhhhhhh i have no leggggggggggggssssssss*

is fear colored, or maybe color in some contexts is fear? some kind of impressionistic tapping into scary scary subconscious lands. also.... Uzumaki! shapes.... driving.... me.... mad! shapes, colors. basic design elements out to give us a spook. but first the initiation - i'll take circle, you can have square, or if you'd like, rectangle. today primary colors, tomorrow the world! (and secondary colors).

2003-07-26T19:10:00.000-07:00

that yuko nexus6 CD Journal de Tokyo is amazing. it reminds me of diary photography like people like hiromix snapshooting images of whatever they fancy with playful abandon and endless supplies of wit and imagination. voice memories summoned by tiny whirrrs, clacks, and bleeps of an intimate apparatus. blend of displacement, flipping here and there, some friends conversing, funny little errors weaving in and out, open the window! this splendid sound journal is endowed with such a sense of personal freedom. let's grab a minidisc and join in.

2003-07-23T21:13:00.000-07:00

usually when i am tired i mosey along, tsunami of pixelized coloring book power behind me, and everything is intoxicated and vaguely silly. jerks on the freeway ahhh haha jerks on the freeway. i am starting to reach a point where i am simply tired, exhausted, and things no longer slide off of me into the defusing center for grrrrs and oh bothers. no more innocuous moments of bemused defeat.

why are you reading that book? i am dating an intellectual chick! sly! girls drive with two hands on the steering wheel and end up not being able to steer anyway! boys drive like THIS!

fucking hell. temptation to play count-the-american-flags-per-mile while driving exacerbates everything as well. people are telling me i'm not very down to earth, opium haze crazy, you go! you might need help. i bought a francoise hardy "vogue years" double disc overview last night thank you very much.

2003-07-17T01:02:00.000-07:00

i just saw beat takeshi's Dolls. the crazy girl (not "hey woo crazy!" but literally crazy because of love train-wreck) i felt quite connected with. overwhelmed me. staring at pretty lights and fiddling with plastic convenience store toys, falling apart. for all i know crazy people don't do such things, but the idea - however false or misinformed - that craziness = childlike amusement + deadpan swaying/stumbling is somehow striking to me. reduced to shards and semblances but in a way freed to an endless nonsequitur wingspan of whims and transient feelings. dramatic exaggeration, yes, but a much more fitting one than coherent arcs and prolonged emotive voyages. if we were all tied to red ropes with people who fancied us i think some kind of human progress could be made.... somebody?

2003-07-15T18:33:00.000-07:00

i have this version of Legally Blonde in my head where the despicable boyfriend is an indie musician instead of a Harvard student and is now like "well, honey, it's just that i have to be serious now. you're a lot of fun but it's time i started to settle for people of my taste calibre. you're just not emo enough for me" or somesuch deplorable thing. the ditzy girl returns home and then a guitar/turntable/sampler/laptop falls from the sky on her head and on the spot she decides to work hard to become a shining indie artist to prove her capabilities.

i don't want to see this kind of film but i do want to hear what kids of sound concoctions this hypothetical gal would conjure up. some thoughts:

- becoming a pop star as she could would not interest her indie ex so that's out.
- in this incredibly contrived scneario, she must act on her own. no becoming bass player for semi-experimental rock bands.
- perhaps an electronic artist since people think girls can't use machines. then they will know she is serious.
- her sense of indignance and obsessive drive mixed with pink dresses and stuffed animals finds little precedent to draw upon. glitch-gabba channeling l'trimm or daphne & celeste maybe? happy hardcore? but - remember - indie-like!
- all on accident obviously, so hopefully she is not reading this.

2003-07-10T17:32:00.000-07:00

What does it say about a person when they nearly begin to cry while driving home to "cute/novel/soulless/bloodless" japan pop like Takako Minekawa? i don't usually like words like 'heartbreaking' in music journalism since it so often refers to some kind of lonestar guitar aching that i fail to register with. or some kind of evocative journey through a picturesque idyll or some such thing. but there is something that feels heartbreaking - or at least gripping - when i hear supposed naive/cute/surfaceplayful/etc melt into melancholy. it is perhaps a guilty indulgence, even past other sadnesses, mournings, portishead songs, and whatnot. like unearthing an irrational memory of pre-conscience hurt, fear, or false security. maybe we are most alone during these times.

2003-07-01T18:14:00.000-07:00

driving to work today i heard "In Da Club", such is the nature of these inescapable bits of what people like. and i like it too, really saunter-friendly, half jaunty on accident half cumbersome, anthemic dre + 50 messily effortlessly amusing like stuff in lava lamps.

out of indulgence i dled an instrumental and acapella and played dress up doll, "moooom, there's pink fur on my he-man!" going to da club - now a River City Ransom NES scene, G-unit turf, step off Generic Dudes!

well how else am i supposed to reconcile?

2003-06-28T13:16:00.000-07:00

apparently i'm googlable now after all of these bitter ages of neglect.
(j/k all is forgiven!)

2003-06-23T02:45:00.000-07:00

extremeley busy weekend involving seeing Melt Banana and Ang Lee's Hulk.

ive always felt kind of bad since in my youthful youth i never had quite enough sense of abandon to really be !!!punkrock!!! so now i think i am trying to make up for it while i still can pass for a 15 year old (in the right outfit). Melt Banana isn't really a punk rock band per se but they still capture some spark that i crave but can only wistfully see the bandwagon pass a few steps behind me.

on stage - a blinding blender of guitar pedals, pummeling by chirpy rapid-fire, a tiny but frenzied bassist at the bottom, abrasive twirling about in jerky erratic presses of "pulverize" set to HIGH. i just wanted to jump in and have my internal organs fly about and romp around with the moment. the mini-moshing up front was not satisfactory, as enthused as it was.

when it comes to these things why am i so mannered and introverted? the one who is quiet, tired even, soft, bundled up with something energetic, fierce, and unlikely. i still am not sure what 'free the bee' is supposed to mean but maybe that's a clue?

2003-06-20T18:22:00.000-07:00

on 'Dizzee Rascal featuring Wiley - 2 far':
I'm your fitness instructah!!!!! it's like Grr from Invader Zim is on back-up vocals which is just brilliant. the rhythm is whack-a-mole with tightrope act pizzicatos and a lobotomized uh-robot going "uh! uh! uh!". apparently this roll deep uk street stufff is the new hype shit and wow it completely utterly IS. the snare hits on the 4 leave my eyeballs rattling back and forth. thnx to mr. scissors for the tip.

2003-06-19T18:05:00.000-07:00

this new aco is very vespertiny. it makes sense. she sort of stood idle by the shiny j-pop wagon and made strang-er music for people who think they're too good for Hello Project. but then again, aco is supposed to be an R&B artist with hip DJ Krush remixes and all that. now she's doing this glitchy ethereal chamber music with production by guys like Mum. i suppose she was never really street - kind of like trip hop - and her voice is too weird (like if grapefruit sang) but now it's like, wow how fertile is that dead dusty soil. now there is extraterrestrial vegetation sprouting with bleeping flowers and alien micro-dragonflies. i sort of miss the beats but she does this wonderment thing so well.... ahhhh refreshing plasma swim.

the real test: oh oh but are there SONGS, you know, under all those neat sounds?
the realer test: may i not care whether there are songs or not?

2003-06-17T17:30:00.000-07:00

Devon Aoki

my half-japanese friend and i discussed her last night. she is vaguely embarrassing, kind of like a mannequin that was abandoned by its master because he decided he could do something less flawed. then this crude prototype went and partied and got glamorous anyway while nobody had the nerve to tell her she was inhuman (but... moreso than models usually are). maybe she'd come across less wtf-grotesque than she is if she wore a different expression than that cloying baby pout. i want to walk up to her and scream "omg! what are you doing existing!" and then give her a big affectionate hug. and 2F2F?! devon! if you're going to act (exist!) please make it arthouse malicious villains with Salvador Dali wardrobes and fork tongues. it's so obvious to all of us over here.

(if you couldn't tell, i like her)

2003-06-14T12:53:00.000-07:00

(woops. work has been busy) ...

of all things vacuous and dazzling in japan, the one thing i am consistantly impartial towards is a-n-i-m-e! it always always always disappoints me. the stereotypical cool projection of japanese robots and biological disaster and stuff is - in the abstract - so shimmery and wonderful but i check the latest otaku hotness and it is .... a stupid cartoon. i love cartoons too but i'm beginning to wonder if this is entirely true anymore!

for instance i saw the start of Hellsing recently. 15 minutes (i watch all anime at double speed now) of vampire exploding regenerating limbs crisis crucifixion bad-ass 2-gun wielding Woo resident evil solemn cool nothingzzzzzzzzzzz. condense that shit into 50 seconds and i may reconsider.

and chobits?! please.....warmed over boring-as-fuck belldandy submission under wheezing would-be-cute "awkward" situations.

i won't get into hack-sign right now or maybe never.

2003-06-04T01:18:00.000-07:00

my internship is starting. so far i have plundered the free coffee and made orange/red/yellow pandas as my desktop pic with painter on a fresh work computer. i also made a screen saver in the same color as this blog with pink letters saying "flying watermelons" scrolling by the screen. everybody is friendly but i think they are looking at me like i'm the token "hot stuff" design weirdo in a sea of more crucial computer science people. that's ok.

2003-05-31T16:42:00.000-07:00

i saw the polysics the other day and it was the best show ever. the 4 of them in full uniforms adorned with 'P' pins and space-age shades, it was unbelievably kinetic 8-bit start stop rocking out the whole way through. they are insane but very deliberate - Hayashi is the energy, he rabidly shook and jump kicked and leaped onto audience member shoulders guitar in hand, Kayo is of course the deadpan robot prissily typing away on her fortress of synths occasionally letting off jerky hand motions or calmly turning to the audience to speak her vocoder bits. at one point she started to malfunction and got all fidgety upon a keyboard, really neat. when they went into "New Wave Jacket" some people in the crowd appeared to be spontaneously combusting. good for them!

2003-05-25T20:46:00.000-07:00

i was in line to see Cremaster 3 and an artist girl came up to me and asked what i would wish for. she was collecting 1,000 wishes for some kind of sculpture (?) she was making. she handed me a sharpie and a post-it and i was good to go. i ended up writing "i wish i had transparent skin so that the world could see my bones" and then drew a little skull and crossbones. while i was in the theater waiting for the movie to start i thought to myself that transparent skin would actually only have everybody see my organs and muscle tissue and stuff. this made me rather angry at myself. how careless! if the wish actually came true, imagine how stupid i'll look. =(

the film was the kind of film that requires more thought than i'm willing to give at the moment to shape a blog-entry on it. but i recommend it. especially the green zombie girl.

2003-05-21T22:10:00.000-07:00

my roommate's friend is freestylin (drunk):

"i don't give a fuck if i failed the final, cuz you know i get up all in the vaginal!"

2003-05-19T07:06:00.000-07:00

i think i like Hero better than Crouching Tiger. the color-scheme is gorgeous, the structure is tighter, the rashomon-narrative is impactive, and the epic silk/sword power and emotional weight of everybody is totally ridiculous but affecting. i never really like fantasy but the unreality-mirror being held up here is meticulous in its potency, maybe anally so... all those fucking arrows flying around are so organized chaos. the film is like walking into the "Avant Card" artsy-nature-mystic card store, picking up some lush sapphire/papaya/tulip art deco cards and papercutting yourself (in the heart) so that lyrical streaks of crimson run calligraphic perfection upon the paper. ah.

also how hot is this cast. Tony Leung and Maggie Cheung = the resonance chamber. Zhang Ziyi as another fully satisfying vicious pixie. and obviously Jet Li who is refreshingly not in another vehicle for himself.

i had a daydream that Enrique Iglesias music was playing to this film and i exploded (i'm back now thankfully).

2003-05-16T21:10:00.000-07:00

this summer i am trying out for an internship doing FLASH MX. of course there are millions of web people around here who all know more than i ever will about internet development but FLASH MX. it may end up getting me paltry pay jobs where i do a "professional" corporate little intro w/ lines and nice shapes and a smiling woman reaching for a telephone and a message like "simple... efficient.... direct...." fading in and out on the screen in hypnotic but subtle geometric patterns. after that on weekends i can make bad fake animation of 80s cartoon characters doing gangsta rap.

my friend and i talk a lot about whether FLASH MX is in fact the most useless thing ever. it has revolutionized web media content. but websites are usually more like billboards than cool sexy multimedia future-of-art things. information, ease, and marketing first, design and aesthetics all incidentally second. cartoons are usually eh college humor. load time concern will keep everything subpar but nice enough.

i love novelty but most web-gimmicks require an even shorter attention span than mine to really satisfy. i want to grow with the site. i want to be charmed and get lost for 5 hours but find my way out and feel comfort with it and more and more each day. somewhere where i would want to stay for a visit rather than click down a few things suck up some info and leave. and not like bbs, it would be just the site and me... kinda like an abstract html version of those Japanese robot dogs. is it so wrong?

2003-05-13T11:48:00.000-07:00

digit's favorite music of 03 v. 1.0

Freaks - The Man Who Lived Underground
Nobukazu Takemura - Songbook
Ulrich Schnauss - A Strangely Isolated Place
Data 80 - Data 80
Pram - Dark Island
Tobias Thomas - Smallville
Kahimi Karie - Trapeziste
Tatu - 200 km/h in the Wrong Lane
Asa-Chang&Junray - Tsu Gi Ne Pu EP
Broadcast - Pendulum EP

2003-05-10T03:56:00.000-07:00

here is a streaming presentation + performance by japanese laptop artist o.blaat. this is special to me since she doesn't have many of her own recordings available and is all the way in NY so i can't see her do ping pong noise art and other brilliant stuff.

2003-05-09T01:37:00.000-07:00

just got back from seeing Broadcast. lots of delicious sci-fi bubbliness and swooning chord progressions. they couldn't make Trish's voice all hollow and nifty like in their new "Pendulum" stuff but she was great. her voice makes me think of alien blossoms blooming off of xylophone keys. they actually had biological/planetary imagery projected behind them, zoom-ins of Mars and things. the indie dude in front of me was totally having it swaying all around almost knocking me in the nose. also, lots of females in the crowd which made me happy.

i am finally beginning to understand my confused taste in rock music or at least music of bands that have lead singers and play instruments and things. i'm less sleater kinney, yeah yeah yeahs, the donnas, and more stereolab, pram, ms. john soda. does this mean i don't know how to rock out?! why am i such a sucker for soundtrack-inflections and prominent analog keyboards? i need to learn to appreciate guitar more. like kim gordon and um jammer lammy.

2003-05-04T03:40:00.000-07:00

today i ate a fuji apple.

a couple of years ago i used to always eat alone at this dining center where there were free apples. sitting in a corner somewhere i would place an apple across the table from me and we would have our own pleasant time. then i would eat it. it would always be sort of bittersweet, intimate, tragic, but a way to nourish both of our lonely existences. each day would be a new apple with new characteristics, disposition, and mannerisms. i sometimes sketched portraits of certain apples...one was very oddly slanted, almost a diamond shape.

today i revisited my experience with apples. does this make me lonely? i don't know, maybe so. but i decided that this apple would represent the spirit of fuji apples tonight, so i collaborated with this apple and sampled myself eating it. here in this strange luscious but unfortunately to most, mundane event was crispy life animated. the rhythm of apple. set free.

2003-05-01T20:02:00.000-07:00

this blog is still unfindable. i write for invisible beings and myself (another invisible being). oh so experimental.

and shallow. i dreamt last night that Amelie sent me X-mas cards. of course i am shallow. i love japanese pop culture and fiend for the latest Mizuno Junko dolls. but in ways i fail. and failure here is interesting, more interesting than succeeding or paving off some idyllic where there is only safety and fetal positions. being cute, innocent, superficial, and child-like is sort of a psychological disorder past a certain age. why desire such in the first place? an irresistable impulse maybe, a lack of grounding and identification, i don't know. is it escapism, idealism, 50 otakus giggling for 12 hours to Chobits episodes. a dead end!! but then.... iconic kawaii keychains swing on rear view mirrors while we are beaten, fired, raped, heartbroken, and alone. maybe life. or another adolescent fantasy? it seems real to me.

shallowness without worries, comfort but lies. detonate this... a motto. blow it up into the skies for all the fake starry eyes to see and identify with to the point of masochism. it's unbearably "cute" and it cuts through flesh! (boyz can replace "cute" for "cool" if it feels more comfy). but fuck cute, fuck cool, fuck these predisposed semblances, fuck and fuck and fuck until life-affirming eruptions stain the heavens. good!!!!!

2003-04-27T07:35:00.000-07:00

i just got the X Zero collection - over 150 pix of bishonen boys with gigantic angel wings and l o n g swords. i remember seeing the anime film when it was around in select theaters. it was such a mess, like 16 main characters in tight conflict dropping dead everywhere. usually i would totally enjoy this kind of shameless character developmentless exhibitionism, but in this film it was too much too fast even for me. at the end of the film there was an orgasmic decapitation. then to add insult to the injury they played an epic X JAPAN ballad in the end credits. i was touched. the audience was hysterical.

CLAMP's style somehow makes everybody look like angular porn stars with steamy feathers and seemingly-innocuous spurts of blood on clothes and faces. even the little girl with the wolf - hot. it sorta suffers from the everybody-has-same-haircut thing like DBZ but eh, not as if i've taken the time to understand anything. there's the sense that some carefully worked out mythology and internal logic is running behind the whole thing but life is too short. it's easier to just imagine them all flashing their designer semi-circle eyes at each other before engaging in catastrophic battle/sex. oh yeah and bloody X's also somehow get carved into everybody's chests like..... \! /! X!!!

2003-04-25T09:06:00.000-07:00

"hey that's cute....
nevermind.
EW
ewwwww"

click!

2003-04-21T13:03:00.000-07:00

i am listening at the moment to Nobukazu Takemura's Assembler. it is like 7 texture-oriented "oceans of sound" except the ambient ether is actually toys r' us shrapnel and microchips with arms and legs.

one of the most memorable live shows i've seen was Takemura and Aki Tsuyuko working 4 laptops hooked up to crazy claymation pacman ghost visuals and cartoon robots. they made the computers singggg as only Childisc can. "hello san francisco" the computer said and i responded, "hello!". it wasn't for a musty club or dancing or even looking hip to your friends but strictly for the kids who go to McDonalds only to build forts on the duplos table. i really wanted to sing along but making the voice splice up and vocode like that is probably a formidable discipline in itself (you know, like on par w/ world music exotic circular breath song or whatever).

what was interesting was how the crowd of Warp records kids were reacting... people were whispering "oh well.. in Japanese culture, you see..." blah blah blah, and somebody behind me was downright outraged for some reason as if he was offended that such vibrant innocence could interrupt his IDM party. not that it stopped me from feeling as gleeful as i did... . at the end of the set, the screen had a little credits page which made everything feel like an elementary school powerpoint presentation. it was tremendously cute.

2003-04-17T00:53:00.000-07:00

"so you take your listeners on a journey. where will you go."
"well, we always start in Disneyland."

my roommate's DJ friend came over yesterday. we sent a snippet of Avril Lavigne through a granular synthesizer and laughed like little children in a jamboree. i think they should make a child's toy out of Max/Msp like a step up from those pull-string talking wheels. you'd have some noises, frogs and cartoony stuff, and a red plastic grid with some bright cute buttons and wheels. the child would then be able to exert control over an unending stream of cacophonous silliness.... imagine how drab it will be when mom decides to begin the piano lessons!

"he was a sk8ter boooooiiiiioioioioioi" (pitch/speed/grain fucked up all over the place)

(while me and Ms. DJ were laughing, my roommate's other friend who was there just seemed nonplussed. perhaps he is mature)

2003-04-15T23:06:00.000-07:00

i was trying to describe what superkawaii jpop sounded like to my friend and i ended up telling her this:

"it is not 'techno' or 'rock', because it takes these things and feeds them strawberries until they die and a really cute ghost hatches and then plays DDR."

i would apologize but i was slightly drunk and famished (i still am, oh no).

on soulseek somebody had the minimoni picture book saved as a set of jpegs so obviously i had to get it off them. they are hitting giant rubber balls (kind of like that thing in The Stranger) with their hips and running around in plush dog suits. if anybody asks, it's for research purposes.

2003-04-13T23:19:00.000-07:00

"i love you but i want to eat you too"

2003-04-13T23:05:00.000-07:00

i had a dream last night that my friend showed me a CD that had a green watermelon peel pattern on the front and back and a red flesh/seed pattern on the CD. this... makes me want to write an assortment of songs dedicated to melons, if only so that i could thematize everything with this design.

this weekend i attempted to learn vector drawing with illustrator. first i made a blocky pUnK guy with a giant gradient-filled sword slicing through a sad stick figure. this, i believe, was to represent my departure into a more ambitious pictorial style than stick figures. i like stick figures but alas you can't dress them up too well.

next i tried to draw with the mouse how i normally would with a pencil. i wish i could tell you that i'm not one of those sad souls who doodles anime girls in the marigins of their notes, but uh, i sorta am. or anime-deviant/inspired/derivative or what have you. some of my more committed manga artist friends emphasize the boldness and precision of each line... very solid and deliberate. i, however, couldn't draw a confident line for the life of me. my lines are all promiscuous, sketchy, and make everything look dilapidated. so my anime-but-not-really-anime-i-swear art always comes out corrupted, which i hope could be a saving grace (my terrible secret).

anyway, i drew a girl with pink hair and red sneakers holding up an apple. i will post her here if i can figure out how. keep in mind that i "gave up" drawing in 5th grade because i had a self-esteem trip over competing with another artist classmate.

2003-04-10T22:57:00.000-07:00

today i slept through all of my classes. instead i tumbled through an extended nightmare on the anxieties of going to class. i now have to read Heidegger to prepare for aspyhxiation from sterile "intellectual forum" room 108. 'why don't you start us off with a passage or concept you feel needs scrutinizing?' no. um i am drawing a blank heh heh *scratches head*. no! i'm in the wrong place, at least this partiucular hydra head of mine is. this is what i get for playing Russian roulette with my registration appointments.

2003-04-09T02:51:00.000-07:00

i had dinner the other day with some people i've been getting to know and this guy said "i still don't know you enough so i don't know how much to let loose". i said "let loose all you want, that's how it should be". his girlfriend said "yeah be yourself". then he said "but if we all let loose it will be TOO loose you know. this isn't a bonfire." we related on feelings of entrapment and the self-destruction it can entail. his girlfriend told me her house turned from sparkling pristine into shrapnel heap in a matter of 20 minutes. that widened my eyes. somehow this turned into a conversation about what kinds of nuts we are.. i am an almond ive decided. "but what does it mean?"

my friend and i were talking about how we are losing our bodies. sitting in the dark theater the silver screen disappears me, poof, into the diegesis. i close my eyes while headphones save my life, invisible waves are choreographing rhythm and twinkling confetti from ear to ear. we are chatting on AIM, contraption and calamity, blue font baby, we should hang out. no? awww. i forgot to eat dinner again, i'm already so sickly and emaciated, no no not a disorder, no not heroin chic. i'm sorry body i don't mean to neglect you. how can i make it up to you? exercise and grain bars? frolicking in sunflower fields a tender embrace and unreasonably wet kisses maybe. don't leave me... i can change.

so my friend also has a thing with scissors. this is the good thing about being open about fancying inanimate things, you develop bonds and mutually foster this kind of fetishistic appreciation. last week he found a temporary solution to make up with his body inspired by seeing Electric Dragon 80,000 (blitzkrieg!), his own kind of metallic catharsis worked out to Japanese noise stuff like Aube plus with scissors. i know it sounds quite silly but this kind of visceral endeavor is something i admire. of course he was complaining and sore for the whole week but i kept thinking, how amusing how amusing. will it be my turn or have i already lost?

2003-04-07T22:59:00.000-07:00

hehe

2003-04-07T12:29:00.000-07:00

something brought back some memories today.

i had a job once helping children draw zeebras and make spiders out of wire (yes. my already sizeable twee quota x 500) and one day when i was wearing more jewelry than usual and a sort of eccentric shirt, one kid asked me why i was trying to be a pop star. arghhhhh. i mean they're on to me.

another time i helped a girl (these kids are maybe 2nd-3rd grade) make a Britney Spears headset and i asked her if she was going to sing "Oops I did it Again". she lashed back "Psha! That's olllllld!" (it was 2001). i later made amends with this girl by making her a Powerpuff girl out of clay.

yet another time i was sitting in the shade watching over the kids as they ran amok in the grass and one came up to me and showed me a cloud that looked like a stegosaurus. my life was so Boards of Canada that summer. sigh.

2003-04-07T03:34:00.000-07:00

i just conducted an experient of staying awake even longer. it's almost like i refuse to give in since i will miss being up for so long and also this twitchy light-headed state i've been in for the past few hours.

i always seem to be missing things... i thought long and hard the other day about missing being lonely and whether that makes any sense. or missing missing people or missing the feeling that something is missing. i'm not being 'clever', i promise, i really wonder if there's some tier system for this kind of feeling.

2003-04-06T23:14:00.000-07:00

oh fuck. i finished my paper but i havent slept for about 30 hours. plus my paper is about cool stuff i like that has less than tenuous connections to the subject matter i'm supposed to be covering. this always always happens to me and i hate it since i realize it only when i'm 3/4 through or something and id have this nice theory worked out and i'll be getting some eloquent lines in and oh my god WHY AM I WRITING ABOUT WU-TANG KILLA BEEZ?!?!

this has actually happened.

another thing that happens is when i read theorists with a bit more attitude, a bit more pep in their step, like maybe Eisenstein for instance, i start to think of them as guest rappers on my paper. at the top i'll write in all caps "YEAH!! NEW EISENSTEIN!!" meant to be said in a DJ Clue voice and then my boy will drop the Russian formalism. ARGH.

2003-04-06T01:52:00.000-08:00

i woke up from a nap earlier today feeling like my heart was stolen. not as in falling in love, but as in everything felt bound to utter utter uselessness including moving my body to get out of bed. my stream of consciousness was convoluted and all life-matters - the paper i have to write, favorite music, t-shirts with nice designs, etc. - suddenly felt frozen, hollow, and of no consequence whatsoever. i had the idea of calling up a friend so that they could convince me to at least get out of bed but, oops, my head could only think "how worthless would be reaching over to grab a phone? told you so." an awful little situation.

somehow i not only managed to get out of bed, but ran around and stomped on the floor in a nervous fit as if i were possessed by frantic cats in my stomach. i put on some of that UK garage everybody seems to be nuts over (Darqwan's "Metro" from this place) and whoooo. fun. the cats in me played drums to this using my body parts and i had to comply helplessly. it probably looked like i was having a seizure.

burn me at the stake, it's black magic.

2003-04-04T03:02:00.000-08:00

reporting live: it is 2:59 in the morning, it's raining hard and i'm listening to "We like the cars... the cars that go boom" and believe it or not... a car outside my window actually did go BOOM just a few seconds ago! i think it was struck by lightening! no joke... first a blinding *flash* then a massive shake of the earth and explosion sound and car alarm going off. intense.

2003-04-03T17:18:00.000-08:00

all is revealed! i have been an ilxorite lurker for a while and occasionally still am. you should lurk too. i guess that means you will leave me now for the link on the left. :*( bye.....

2003-04-02T23:14:00.000-08:00

continuing on the Svankmajer tip (visit here) as funny as i found most of the performances in Little Otik i much prefer his earlier work (*shame* for saying that) because there are no actors, only bizarre animated objects and surfaces caught in violence.

so anyway my friend and i came up with a Svankmajer-inspired vision while at a hip hop show earlier this year. how about this..... a nightmarish scene with muddled green lighting and a DJ playing eerie somnambulist beats (like Mobb Deep instrumentals) to a bunch of anonymous zombie-folks. then cut to a dominatrix woman wrapped up like a mummy in black vinyl...... then, the DJ guy is suddenly there next to her except his fingers (and not just his fingers!) are Stanton turntable needles. together they have a rough and elaborately kinky experience and crackle crackle sounds fly everywhere and arouse all the vinyl fetish zombies. during a climactic moment, the woman vanishes and is replaced by the 1200 decks and the DJ is doing ISP-caliber turntablism but then the record he is scratching begins to bleed and profusely leaks blood all over the stage. everybody is high and getting off on the spectacle and finally all fall down. FIN.

2003-04-01T11:53:00.000-08:00

i recently had the pleasure of viewing Jan Svankmajer's Little Otik. it has a scene where a guy cuts a watermelon in half and there's a baby inside!

these birth anxiety films (see: Eraserhead) always fill me with glee but also touch my nerves and make me wonder about my own relationship to instinctual maternal drives (or sad lack thereof :-\). my mom first saw Alien when she was pregnant with me and so there is some kind of lineage going on in my family of ominous icky birth prophecies. i think the birth thing is almost too deep for my shallow existence or something, like it'd be some bodily novelty and after that i'd be like "oh shit i have to raise this now". there was a Stan Brakhage (RIP) film showing the intimate details of his wife giving birth but instead of intense empathy i think it was just a silly Cronenburgian thrill for me.... ah i feel robbed.

2003-03-31T23:24:00.000-08:00

a couple weeks ago i was listening to Francoise Hardy and my roommate asked me "is this your way of protesting?".

this week i am roaming the streets listening to Pizzicato 5's Happy End of the World. this may seem an inappropriate selection given today's events, like some feeble escapism into kitsch. however for me, it felt like merging with a strange and absurd world where greasy burgers and "freedom" fries are for dinner as soon as daddy is done tacking the neon American flag onto the garage door. then the terrible thought of somebody naming their newborn twins Shock and Awe started running through my head.

disbelief and unsteady chuckles, helplessness and frustration, Maki Nomiya's sweet voice through my ears and the grey sky is slightly strangelove.

2003-03-30T19:04:00.000-08:00

this is a true story. i was in the suburbs once visiting somebody during break and his parents had the following exchange (let's call them Linda and Gerald):

Linda (opening a can of sliced pineapple) - "Gerald honey, i was at Sherrol's place last week and do you know what they had?"
Gerald (reading newspaper) - "What"
Linda - "They had a can-opener that opens the can so that there are no sharp edges on the lid!"
Gerald - "Wow. Now that is really something."
Linda - "We should get one."

during the next break i ended up in that house again and surely enough, the super can-opener was proudly sitting on the kitchen shelf. for some reason this series of events upsets me greatly. the whole fun of opening cans is carefully wedging the fork under the lid and prying it out while risking cutting your finger and bleeding into your pineapple or soup! and the kkkrrrrrkkk kkkrrrkk sound of opening the can, and even the jagged shape of the metal (which can be made into "danger frisbees")... it's all gone.

no my bed is not made of nails, i am just a pretend rebel.
Linda: "see! pineapples without the fuss"

2003-03-30T03:32:00.000-08:00

hello again. although right now nobody is reading this site because i haven't been added to search engines and i haven't linked (yet) to all of the lovely blogs that i read on the regular.

i've been seeing some friends recently but life has felt like i am linked to nobody and nobody's search engines. my roommates have been gone and i've been doing lots of travelling alone. earlier i was on the train with messy hair, half to 2/3 asleep, culture theory book slipping from my mind and hands, Noriko Tujiko in my headphones (you're so beautiful).... my reflection in the window was smirking at me. "hello", "hello again". children were waking their dad up because their stop had arrived. time to go.

i am alone in my room now, 3:30 AM in an old Nike shirt. classic post-tornado look (me and room). top-ramen packages and grain bar wrappers, coffee stained mug, detritus of dead semesters, a carefully placed lamp to get the shadows all film noir (nobody understands this as they usually give me puzzled looks before flicking on the main light switch). i can hear jovial voices of saturday nights more lively than mine. i am out of kleenex.

melon scissors is been perhaps the necessity which arises from this ashy haze. enough friction in the rubble has yielded a tiny diamondy sheen for me to gaze into and speak to myself... all the neglected facets of myself. in those personality disorder tests i always score high on narcissism right under schizophrenia, so blogger and me together at last.

and hopefully soon, you too.

2003-03-29T17:19:00.000-08:00

most people who develop snobbery in hip hop do so in terms of the content - black eyed peas aren't about all that superfishal sh!t so that means palpable. something went wrong with me and instead of this i had syllable snobbery. nothing else mattered except how many syllable patterns could intertwine and match up. imagine the little karaoke smiley face bouncing from lyric to lyric and when syllables paired off little point scores would come out of the words. "hi kids, do you like (+1) violence (+5), wanna see me stick nine inch (+5) nails through each one of my (+1) eyelids (+5)?". and if the rapper was really good (eminem tends to be) then multiple layers of syllable connections could be going on and multiplication points and combos and bonus rounds and lots of excitement would be ringing through my head.

i'm mostly cured of that now, for instance i can like Mystikal more than MC Paul Barman.
but ahem....

she's eating rice crackers.
being quite slacker.
Koreans might slap her.
for freeing 5 raptors,
a bee sting! my back hurts!
fleeing my attackers,
i'm peeing right after
bleeding, lies, and laughter

haha oh well

2003-03-29T00:29:00.000-08:00

i was at a museum with my friend today and saw pink guns on a pink extended cushion and a pink target with lots of bullet holes in it. pink is a really loaded color, the girly girl tone diametrically opposite to boy blue. pinkpestilence is my email address and just perhaps, by extension, my entire manifesto on life. Gloomybear is my favorite murderous pink bear. i once knew a goth teaching assistant who wore elegant black dresses everyday and spoke in a East European accent and one day she suddenly wore pink. Nas wore a pink suit once and other rappers made fun of this fact (i think it's o-k Nas). the flesh of watermelon is sort of pink and incites deep sensual drives within me. saying pink rapidly many times in a row makes me feel like a pachinko machine ball. i am thinking of how to incorporate pink into my wardrobe but it's difficult since on me it would look like i overdosed on irony.

pink.

2003-03-28T14:42:00.000-08:00

oh. also, Cibo Matto obviously. though i'm still ambivalent about eating a MSG cake, i always think of them when having beef jerky.

2003-03-28T14:03:00.000-08:00

i am starting to think about what music makes me want to eat what foods. i mean besides obvious stuff like Andrew WK = beer. Britney Spears (remember her?) was not bubblegum, but did inspire a sweet tooth for translucent candies. lots of sparkly producer pop does this actually. is it because i perceive it to sound like candy whatever that means? it's dubious like saying "oh this dance music has a feminine rhythm", but worth investigating nonetheless. it may just be THE MAN slapping me up with subversive aural addiction frequencies like Josie and the Pussycats.

so, summon: Matthew Herbert! his beautiful tactile house also makes me hungry often. unfortunately, i wouldn't have the nerve to tell him this, but his anti-McDonalds Radioboy thing makes me want to drink things through a straw. doesn't have to be evil capitalist poison like coca cola but i'm still leaving with the wrong message. anyway, ever since him and Matmos i've fallen in love with making the sound of life dance, can openers and microwaves doing a jig. but rather than for-itz-own-sake, i am interested in how much appetite has to do with food sounds... maybe a preconditioned response for wanting a yum salad after hearing crisp lettuce snapping. other ones: biting an apple, slurping ramen noodles, gingerale fizzing, and maybe carrots.

then there is stuff actually about making food like Mini Moni's "Strawberry Pie". for those who don't know they are a Japanese girl group born out of a crayon box and destined for pedo-slash-fic writer stardom. they even have two Game Boy Advance titles in Japan, one in which the entire dramatic arc of the game is to.... you guessed it.... bake a Strawberry Pie. in the video for this song they are making the pie of course and it's choreographed so that they can throw 400 strawberries up in a fit of reckless joy and they'll all land perfectly on the cake. it's cute but does it make me want to eat strawberry pie? not exactly... (cue sicko pedophile joke).

somewhere in this is a perfect food song that will make me chow down in insuppressable knee-jerk fashion. let's not forget the wonderful horrors of ingestion/digestion. i summon: willy wonka orgies for the new generation with a throbbing delectable soundtrack.

2003-03-28T01:19:00.000-08:00

one of my favorite uses of the human voice is the sound of somebody laughing under their breath so that the air sounds really ambiguous, sort of like laughing but also quiet weeping or maybe a jittery sigh even. think "Woman is a Woman" after Anna Karina drops the eggs and collapses. or Beat Takeshi's little laugh right before he is about to kick the shit out of somebody. this is also the way people tend to laugh when they are overwhelmed with joy/relief. i think i believe that this single whispery sound is the quintessence of the human condition. sometimes i wish that a poltergeist - probably a more introverted one - would visit me one day (or night) and just reverberate this sound all over the place. i reckon i would learn and feel a lot.

2003-03-27T19:17:00.000-08:00

i know that it's kind of the cool thing to do to include little twee faces to represent my mood and then list some obscure-ish artist to tell you what the music i am listening to is, but.... i don't think i'll run it that way. for example:

Mood: (x_-)
Music: Data 80 - Baby I can Forgive

..except if i were actually cool i'd have a bouncing smiley cloudpuff instead of blah typed face. anyway, for you guys who really MUST have this configuration, i have been thinking about you and this will be my gesture of generosity: i will give you this many credits in advance but after that... no more:

Mood: (o.0)
Music: Hi-Posi - jeniiwagokigennaname
Mood: (' v ')
Music: Freescha - Star Black
Mood: (x > x)
Music: Murcof - Mapa
Mood: (^o^)
Music: tAtU!! - Not gonna get us! Not gonna get us! Not gonna get uuuuuuuuuusssss!!!!!2e4h$#WQQ%S$%#2

2003-03-27T06:32:00.000-08:00

i was making popcorn last night and the rhythm of the pops totally reminded me of Asa-Chang & Junray! for some reason i am immensely proud of this connection. pop. pop. popopop

2003-03-27T03:34:00.000-08:00

once when i was quite small, i was in some gardening shop with my mom and i encountered this rack full of seed packets. i guess you could grow all sorts of things with that stuff but... the one that got me was for growing watermelons. this made me very inspired - visions of me in a straw hat with a myriad of melon vines under my control, like a fruit-octopus queen almost. anyway, while my mom was in customer service, i mustered up enough evil to steal these seeds and start my little scheme. needless to say, it didn't work or else i wouldn't be here doing a blog like this.

another time, also when i was still quite small, i wanted to have scissors as an extension of my hand so i borrowed some from the class jar. after school when everybody was cruel and without supervision, i thought "oh finally i can be dangerous". i faintly recall actually using them on this kid i didn't like and he shouted "slit my throat, go ahead!" all precociously nihilistic like that. oh also, i don't think the Tim Burton film existed back then.

so two arbitrary memories = this new space for unwinding and spinning my wheels more indulgently than usual.

2003-03-27T03:11:00.000-08:00

hello everybody.