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Feb. 8th, 2011 09:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
solitary_summer# It's those post-Christmas kill me now, now, now! days. Yesterday was especially bad, warm, cloudless blue sky, the sun shining outside, while I was cooped up in the store, feeling trapped and hating very single minute of it. It's even worse when business is slow and all you do is think about how you really need to find another job, except that you don't even know what kind of job because it's not as if you're exactly qualified for anything, and you already panic at the thought of the whole interview process.
# In TW rewatching news, watched Combat yesterday, and it's really kind of fascinating. Owen's pain bleeds all over the episode. Gwen does her fair share of bleeding, too. And then you have Jack, for whom OOT was at least as devastating as it was for Owen, and Ianto, who lost a girlfriend he loved under far more traumatising circumstances, and they're having a moment of empathy over the Weevil's possible capacity to feel pain. No wonder it took them until CoE to actually start talking about the things that matter.
# Watched the first episode of Outcasts, because I can't only ever post about TW all the time and need at least a Zweitserie, so to speak (although that reminds me that I still have left-over notes from the last three Merlin episodes buried somewhere back in skip=100something...), but I can't really say much about it except that I was sufficiently intrigued to watch the next episode.
# I had a nostalgic moment recently browsing through YouTube and looking up all the stuff I listened to ten years ago, and how embarrassing is it that I apparently still have a bit of a of a soft spot for Marilyn Manson from the ACS and MA era? I'm seriously too old for that. But there's a kind of mixture between earnestness and theatrical pathos to the earlier stuff that still has a certain power and is oddly appealing. ACS especially holds up quite well.
On a more serious note, Tool. I never really was a fan of them as such; they're a bit too pretentious for my taste and personally I find this whole image they cultivate rather off-putting, but these are maybe my favourite nine and a half minutes of music:
Tool, Lateralus
Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me.
lets me see.
As below, so above and beyond, I imagine
drawn beyond the lines of reason.
Push the envelope. Watch it bend.
Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition, missing opportunities and I must
Feed my will to feel my moment drawing way outside the lines.
Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me.
lets me see there is so much more
and beckons me to look through to these infinite possibilities.
As below, so above and beyond, I imagine
drawn outside the lines of reason.
Push the envelope. Watch it bend.
Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition leaving all these opportunities behind.
Feed my will to feel this moment urging me to cross the line.
Reaching out to embrace the random.
Reaching out to embrace whatever may come.
I embrace my desire to
feel the rhythm, to feel connected
enough to step aside and weep like a widow
to feel inspired, to fathom the power,
to witness the beauty, to bathe in the fountain,
to swing on the spiral
of our divinity and still be a human.
With my feet upon the ground I lose myself
between the sounds and open wide to suck it in,
I feel it move across my skin.
I'm reaching up and reaching out,
I'm reaching for the random or what ever will bewilder me.
And following our will and wind we may just go where no one's been.
We'll ride the spiral to the end and may just go where no one's been.
Spiral out. Keep going, going...
# In TW rewatching news, watched Combat yesterday, and it's really kind of fascinating. Owen's pain bleeds all over the episode. Gwen does her fair share of bleeding, too. And then you have Jack, for whom OOT was at least as devastating as it was for Owen, and Ianto, who lost a girlfriend he loved under far more traumatising circumstances, and they're having a moment of empathy over the Weevil's possible capacity to feel pain. No wonder it took them until CoE to actually start talking about the things that matter.
# Watched the first episode of Outcasts, because I can't only ever post about TW all the time and need at least a Zweitserie, so to speak (although that reminds me that I still have left-over notes from the last three Merlin episodes buried somewhere back in skip=100something...), but I can't really say much about it except that I was sufficiently intrigued to watch the next episode.
# I had a nostalgic moment recently browsing through YouTube and looking up all the stuff I listened to ten years ago, and how embarrassing is it that I apparently still have a bit of a of a soft spot for Marilyn Manson from the ACS and MA era? I'm seriously too old for that. But there's a kind of mixture between earnestness and theatrical pathos to the earlier stuff that still has a certain power and is oddly appealing. ACS especially holds up quite well.
On a more serious note, Tool. I never really was a fan of them as such; they're a bit too pretentious for my taste and personally I find this whole image they cultivate rather off-putting, but these are maybe my favourite nine and a half minutes of music:
Tool, Lateralus
Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me.
lets me see.
As below, so above and beyond, I imagine
drawn beyond the lines of reason.
Push the envelope. Watch it bend.
Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition, missing opportunities and I must
Feed my will to feel my moment drawing way outside the lines.
Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me.
lets me see there is so much more
and beckons me to look through to these infinite possibilities.
As below, so above and beyond, I imagine
drawn outside the lines of reason.
Push the envelope. Watch it bend.
Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition leaving all these opportunities behind.
Feed my will to feel this moment urging me to cross the line.
Reaching out to embrace the random.
Reaching out to embrace whatever may come.
I embrace my desire to
feel the rhythm, to feel connected
enough to step aside and weep like a widow
to feel inspired, to fathom the power,
to witness the beauty, to bathe in the fountain,
to swing on the spiral
of our divinity and still be a human.
With my feet upon the ground I lose myself
between the sounds and open wide to suck it in,
I feel it move across my skin.
I'm reaching up and reaching out,
I'm reaching for the random or what ever will bewilder me.
And following our will and wind we may just go where no one's been.
We'll ride the spiral to the end and may just go where no one's been.
Spiral out. Keep going, going...
