I resolve . . .
Blog on hiatus . . .
Check back in a couple of weeks.
Happy New Year!
offered up to the world by CoachDub @ 8:13 AM
63 comments
i charge laughing - The Archive
into the strenuous briefness / Life: / handorgans and April / darkness, friends / i charge laughing. - E.E. Cummings
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Check back in a couple of weeks.
Happy New Year!
About Me
- Name: CoachDub
- Location: Chicago, Illinois, United States
I engage in several real and metaphorical activities, including teaching, learning, reading, playing, pubbing, searching, pursuing, digesting, scaling, shaking down, digging, rebooting, stirring, trying, and teething.
Sites I Like
- McSweeney's
- Roger Ebert
- Internet Movie Database
- Rotten Tomatoes Movie Reviews
- Scanners - A Film Blog
- Metacritic
- Pitchfork Reviews
- Stereogum
- All Music Guide
- The Huffington Post
- Dubya Speak
- The Onion
- The Believer
- Good Magazine
- The Nation
- Pink is the New Blog!
- The Cool Hunter
- Chicagoist
- CenterStage Chicago
- Metromix
Previous Posts
- Monkey in the middle
- Good will to man
- Donner, Blitzen, Smokestack
- Romeo & Romeo
- It stops my mind from wandering
- Bleeding ears
- Anthrax and "tampons"
- So merry, merry
- Analytical Blog Retrospective
- Everything is connected
Herein, you will find fascinating and not-so-fascinating posts about politics, movies, music, culture, and my life.
All opinions expressed in this blog are those of the author, and as such, they cease to be opinions and instead become scientific fact. Thank you for visiting.
63 Comments:
Last year someone's blog went "on hiatus," there was mass chaos in the Blogosphere.
Just to warn you...
Don't worry Dub. it's only because most people couldn't figure out what hiatus actually meant. They thought it was an obscenity.
Mine? No, I'm kidding. Mine could shut down for good and nobody would notice.
I thought yours did shut down for good...?
Nope. I tried to rekindle your interest, Houle, with one of those Chet pics. Unfortunatley, it didn't seem to work.
we should do lunch when you get back to illinois, k? k.
I'm taking this over until further notice.
Go here:
http://p097.ezboard.com/bthegrove24229
Out in the streets at all hours of the night
Softly bathed in flickering dashboard lights
Hey!
There's no painless way to say that
I passed on that piece of the pie
That was planed as mine
I'm starving too but I'm hungry for life
Not that life,
But my life,
It's my time
My POS car with the radio playin'
The graveyard jockey is on the air sayin'
"Here's a new hot band outta Oakland..."
And it's the sound
Of my way out
We make noise
What else could we choose?
We're gonna be more than local boys
And shake! shake! shake!
The dust off these shoes
Well I used to watch
This kid turning wrenches next door
He grew up
Engines strewn across the oil stained floor
I got a car
And next year I knew better
But i let her fall into disrepair
I gotta get away
Gotta get away
Gotta get away from here
But four wheels aren't going to get me there
Summer time blues on the front porch swinger
The jock says "The Rage got a new singer..."
The first note rips through the speaker
And it's the sound of my way out
We make noise
What else could we choose?
We're gonna be more than local boys
And shake! shake! shake!
The dust off these shoes
And shake! shake! shake!
The dust off these shoes
We're the wolves
Prowlin' the shadows of these worn down streets
A rabid dose of ambition drives us to the books
To the highways -
To the lowway -
To the air waves -
We're all just tryna get a better look (a look)
At what's beyond the tall grass
That groes around this town
I gotta see the world for myself
And I only know one way to get out
Pick up my ticket to any where but here
It's got six strings and a soul
I gotta get away
Gotta get away
Gotta get away from here
Turn it up and rise up out of this hole
We make noise
What else could we choose?
We're gonna be more than local boys
And shake! Shake! Shake!
The dust off these shoes
We make noise
Shake! Shake! Shake!
What else could we choose?
Shake! Shake! Shake!
We're gonna be more than local boys
And shake! Shake! Shake!
The dust off these shoes
And Shake! Shake! Shake!
The dust off these shoes
Now that I have the attention of the class: what's up?
Wow, you'd definitely make the greatest substitute teacher ever. Hands down.
Mike Ramsdell comes in a close second. He would hand out weed and alcohol to the kids. Not that makes him good, but, you know. It would probably be pretty interesting.
My favorite links:
http://www.penny-arcade.com/
http://myspace.com/
http://p097.ezboard.com/bthegrove24229
http://www.dragonforce.com/index.shtml
http://apbio.biosci.uga.edu/exam/Essays/html/index.html
http://www.womynkind.org/scum.htm
http://hem.passagen.se/refusedfan/refnews.htm
http://www.imdb.com/Sections/Quotes/
http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Main_Page
http://www.sagernotebook.com/index.html
http://www.allmusic.com/
http://slashdot.org/
http://www.first-avenue.com/calendar/mainroom.aspx
http://starwars.wikicities.com/wiki/Main_Page
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0006DIT2W/qid=1134533047/sr=1-2/ref=sr_1_2/002-6160490-7776859?s=books&v=glance&n=283155
I'm leasing this space from Mr. Waninger. The cost: nothing. The reason: I want to.
Truth be told, he knows nothing about it.
It's only 630 and it's dark.
Walking along the sidewalk.
Faint, yellow lanterns lining either side, trailing off down the hill into the darkness that castes a vale over the beach and the soft water of the lake beyond. The soft sound of shoe on brick is the only sound besides the faint call of crickets. No. The faint lapping of water on the moist sand, now: the only clue that that far off water even exists. The trees overhead form a cavern, blotting out parts of the sky, a sky that resembles a sheet of black satin with diamonds strewn across it.
People pass me.
They are dependencies that I have no time or reason to acknowledge: they are only part of my dream. I continue my walk and near my destination. The water is louder now, the trees more sparse. I can make out a dock protruding out into the water. Then I'm there. A dark tower rising above me and a door at its base presents itself, begging to be opened by the key that I now hold. I slide the key in, twist, pull. Open, I enter and turn on the lights. The lights beat back the darkness, the dream, and I am brought back alive. I have returned to the mortal world, and my trip along the lighted path is over. I have walked that path many times, in many places. I have been awoken many times. How many times will it take for me to forever be awake? To sleep no more? Too long, I hope. Those midnight dreams of far off places and faint shores are what keep me awake during the day. Thoughts of them propel me on. In those dreams I find life -- life more beautiful than can ever be imagined in the waking day.
I can say all sorts of dirty, mean and cruel things about our old english teacher and he would never be none the wiser! Aha!
JV - Will you ever learn how to spell your lessors name?
Way to go WaNninger!
Ok. I know how to spell it, I'm just really bad at typing, Mr. Wanninger.
Now that all the serious stuff is out of the way...
Frick, I have been found out! Back to the lab again!
Lessor is such a funny word.
I am a patient boy...
I wait, I wait, I wait, I wait...
My time is water down a drain...
everybody moving
everybody movin movin movin movinnnnnnn
Please don't leave me to remain
In the waiting room...
I haven't seen this many empty comments since that Tay post that got 105.
ditto
haha
By the way, it was nice seeing you today, Wanninger.
Erik, obviously you have forgotten about how we used to fell blogs with the 100+ comment threads. Remember that? Blogs blew up because of that shit.
I killed a man in Baxter, just to watch him die.
That's what happens in J-walk City.
SHIT HAPPENS. TALK TO MY LAWYER.
THATS ME. I'M HIS LAWYER.
Wot, wot?
Please tell me why We couldn't stay
Don't let this feeling, ever go away
Let this memory forever be inside of me
Through every hour of every day
It's with the company of these friends
That we drove on through the night
We were carried by the wheels of armageddon
We're gonna force ourselves to live
Thankful it's hurt more than we've ever felt
It's just our means to an end
Please tell me why we couldn't stay
Don't let this feeling ever go away
Let this memory forever be inside of me
Through every hour of every day
It's with the company of these friends
That we drove on through the night
We were carried by the wheels of armageddon
And honestly we were armed with our best intentions
Maybe those intentions alone
are just enough to get us anywhere but here
In the middle of America
Six cylinders will take us further than any president
The same promises that we forgot the last time
There's no difference between staying and a bullet in the head
So fucking tell me why we couldn't stay
Don't let this feeling ever go away
Let this memory forever be inside of me
Through every hour of every day
It's with the company of these friends
That we drove on through the night
We were carried by the wheels of armageddon
Maybe it's gonna come from the radio
Or the next 8 hour day
Driving to the next town
A collect call home to your best friend
We are the company we keep
We could live off of dumpsters if we have to
Sell our blood by the pint to make rent
This kind of dignity doesn't come easy
But you'll never find it for sale
And that's why we couldn't stay
But never let that feeling ever go away
Kept to memory, inside of us
Through every hour, through every day
Until we die
It's with the company of those friends
We drove on through the night
Behind the wheels of armageddon
what song is that?
We Did It All For Don. Against Me!
Greatest rock band. Ever. That's hardly an opinion either. More of a fact.
Sometimes on the surface a lyric will sound deep, but then you realize that it means absolutely nothing and makes no sense.
Case in point:
"We were carried by the wheels of armageddon"
What a bunchof poppycock.
Haha. Whatever, Lessor.
Using my poetical analytical skills I would say that the author was trying to impart upon us, the listener, a sense of ending.
"Let this memory forever be inside of me"
"
We're gonna force ourselves to live
Thankful it's hurt more than we've ever felt
It's just our means to an end"
Clearly something has come to an end, and he and his friends are moving on.
DEEP.
I was at first tempted to just post some Coldplay lyrics...
The 100 comment blog destroyers that Hobson, you, and I once had were brought down by word verification.
Although...
There are still some blogs that don't have word verification.
But really, at a blog like this, with word verification, it just takes
TOO LONG TO
POST
COMMENTS.
Y'know what I mean, Valesano?
There. I got you to 50.
Renter: I did not say the whole set of lyrics were meaningless -- I said that that one line was meaningless.
armageddon was their tour bus until they crashed it
It was their tour van's name I mean
it crashed
Got it -- No longer meaningless. Now just goofy.
Let's analyze "Come Together" next.
Hold you in his armchair you can feel his disease.
Come together was written when Ringo was high.
Needless to say, it was a big hit.
Every shortcoming has trapped us, every mistake is now our own infinite failure.
You're not the only that's made mistakes, but they're the only thing that you can truly call your own.
I've got some other things to call my own...
One time some people I know went to a Combine Derby. I am still trying to figure out what that all means in the scope of things.
Another time my friends and I went camping in the Crosby Mine Pits. This was the same weekend that a sex offender had escaped and was hiding there. We didn't find this out until after we left. I can imagine the ensuing panic: Holbrook standing like a man, Mattson with a strange glint in his eye, Jeff clutching his hatchet, Turbo ready to run, David croutched like a cat and me looking around at them considering who would be the easiest for the S.O. to pick off. Always the practical one.
That never happened though. Instead, we went rope swinging and swimming. Swing life away. Then Mattson did a belly flop. He turned purple. And I dragged like 8 trees so they could be chopped up, assembly line style. Holbrook was the one man line. We tried to help but we just got in his way.
Sleep. What is it good for? ... ... ...
Absolutely nothing. I love answering my own questions.
I submit that it cannot.
65 just isn't enough.
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