UNIVERSAL DONOR: MA VIE EN CROUTE
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Universal Donor
We can ill afford another Klendathu You are just a number to me! And that number is: PAGES UD MADE: My Books Page My Reviews Page My Reference Page My Music Page My Pictures My Store UD-RELATED PAGES: My LiveJournal My MySpace music page My Flickr page My del.icio.us page My Last.fm page My Amazon Wishlist HEAVY ROTATION Dan Deacon: Bromst Animal Collective: Merriweather Post Pavillion Bon Iver: For Emma, Forever Ago Vampire Weekend: Vampire Weekend Fleet Foxes: Fleet Foxes BLOGS ETC claude le monde nuncstans rock 'em stock 'em tomato nation postmodern drunkard tuckova 22 ghastly mess constintina total virility fuzzysquid drunken bee stacey nightmare elyse from ANTM stereolabrat dark side points jf_franklin 123 i love you READ NOW brotherhood 2.0 NOT BLOGS ETC qwantz (dinosaur comix) go fug yourself the burg cat and girl book of ratings married to the sea icanhascheezburger fire joe morgan fivethirtyeight.com READ NOW hospitality on parade WEIRD LOVE dead amusement pks craters! all content © 2002-2010 Jeremy Broomfield
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Thursday, July 15, 2004
A good indicator that you are losing your mind is thinking that you are invisible (which in real life translates into nobody noticing you in any observable way) or thinking you are... um... hypervisible -- that everyone is looking at you. The subway is a crucible for insanity. (Now hold on a sec, maybe I'm not using "crucible" correctly there; the sense I'm trying to convey is more like "proving ground" or "easy bake oven" -- oh wait, I've got it. Just outside this upcoming parenthesis!) Ahem. The subway is the kiln of urban insanity, and especially so in the summer. Minor psychoses enter the system soft and half-baked, but by the time they stumble up the gritty stairs into the grotty light of day, they have hardened into unbreakable, dishwasher-safe CRAZY-PANTS-NESSES.
Straphangers are on the defensive as soon as they swipe their Metrocards (and tell me you didn't stumble on the first word of this sentence, getting all fricative when you shoulda gone plosive, am I right?) because even if it's cool and breezy topside, it's ten degrees hotter down here in our subbacultcha. But enough about hotness. I get enough of that in the mirror. No, this morning the in-sane-i-tude came in audio form. I was trying to sleep and I heard this noise, like: Thump-gik-gik-thoom-thicky Thump-gik-gik-thoom-thicky and there was this dude standing by the door across the car from me with a walkman on. I thought for a moment that maybe his earphones had gotten twisted somehow and were directing the music outwards instead of towards his ears. Because the music was very loud, see? But no! A closer look revealed that he was using one hand to hold the right earpiece an inch away from his ear. What? The man was staring out the window so that nobody could make outraged eye contact with him, which believe me, I tried. Instead, I scrawled the following notes on my bookmark for later blogging: "Freakin walkman croaking reggae like a pond full of dying frogs. Giant grey suit that bells out at the waist like he's used to his weight fluctuating by 100lbs or so on any given day. Eyes closed, one earpiece lifted off the ear -- to share w/ us? Thanks a heap. If I wanted to hear tracheotomy patients--" at which point I stopped writing, I guess. Revenge is sweet. Take that, crazy guy on the subway! You have been criticized on the InTerWeb! If your mom googles you by searching for "crazy guy +reggae +earpiece", she will see how harshly you have been mocked, and you won't be invited home for Easter. In other news, New York City has released the Ultimate Guide to Paralyzing Fear and Paranoia. Now surely this guide has useful information about how to cope with various life-threatening situations, but there's something about the comprehensiveness of it that fills me with municipal pride. I love that I live in a place where there are so many exciting ways to get killed, maimed, or trapped by debris! (Note: V. should not read this guide, because her head will explode.) 0 comments |
OTHER REVIEWS: Scrabble NEW! LATEST BOOK REVIEWS: The Game Moneyball One-Upsmanship Siddhartha You need the Fear Not Guide to Life. Buy it already. ($4) Now available! The Broomfield Variations CD ($10) or go to The UD Store
MY IMAGINARY GIRLFRIENDS Chan Marshall Rotem of the IDF Eleanor Friedberger Amy Goodman Bernardine Dohrn ('69) Maya Rudolph Joanna Newsom Imogen Heap Caroline Dhavernas Shana Rae Ray DISALLOWED FOREVER "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you!" - "from whence" - "...the exception that proves the rule" - any use of the question "spit or swallow?" - the phrase "drop trou" - fake-o reviewer verbs: "penned" for wrote "helmed" for directed "lensed" for whatever - "expat" - the euphemism "passed away" - pronouncing merci beaucoup as "mercy buckets!" (see also: "grassy-ass!") PET PEEVES "confinscated" - trying children "as adults" - "drownded" - misuse of reflexive pronouns, as when someone says "Please talk to Bob or myself." Come on people now. "Myself" is not just a fancy version of "me"! LEARN IT. - tattoos in the Courier font - any use of Comic Sans |