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I have some really stupid dreams.
Oct. 8th, 2004 08:10 pmCool news: There's a Beatles fan club in my dorm. In my very own dorm. I joined, needless to say; we meet on every other Monday.
The girls who started it are a little bit in denial, in a cute way. You see, the Calkins Beatles Fan Club has three rules:
1. You do not talk about Beatles Club.
Sorry, that's "Fight Club." Anyway, the rules are this:
1. No talking about deaths.
2. No talking about the breakup.
3. No talking about Y*O*K*O.
"In our hearts," said one girl, "it is always 1964."
"Or 1969," said another girl. "But without the infighting."
(Personally, I think it's a bit of a mistake to excise history like that. I take the view that the more backstory one knows behind a piece of art, the more one can fully appreciate it. "Imagine" sounds all the sweeter for the death of its creator, and "We Can Work It Out" is all the more poignant when you can relate it to the dissolution of the band. But of course denial can be fun...)
Anyway, this week we watched "Hard Day's Night". I'd never seen it before, and I thought it was oddly bleak. Here were my thoughts.
( Snipped for overanalysis )
Anyway, that's just what I thought. We're watching "Help!" next meeting.
Today:
While sitting in the UC bookstore for three hours, waiting for the rain to let up a little so I could walk to my dorm without actally drowning, I happened to find a copy of The Famous Notebooks of St. Kurt of Seattle.
Flipped through them, just to kill some time. I can't read Kurt Cobain's writing. It's worse than mine. His little cartoons were fairly interesting, though. I liked the one he did of Courtney.
Happily, I could read the few typed memos. One of which contained the statement that (and I may be paraphrasing) "it would be cool if Crispin Glover joined Nirvana".
I am entirely serious. It was on page 195 or possibly 197.
Eventually, the rain abated somewhat. I went back to the dorm and downloaded, on a whim, the video to "In Bloom" and "Smells Like Teen Spirit."
( And then I had the freakiest dream... )
So I woke up. And when I did, I found that I had migrated from my little tiny bed to the couch in the living room, where "Real World" was on. Luckily, I was able to excuse myself before my brain cells had a chance to die.
The girls who started it are a little bit in denial, in a cute way. You see, the Calkins Beatles Fan Club has three rules:
1. You do not talk about Beatles Club.
Sorry, that's "Fight Club." Anyway, the rules are this:
1. No talking about deaths.
2. No talking about the breakup.
3. No talking about Y*O*K*O.
"In our hearts," said one girl, "it is always 1964."
"Or 1969," said another girl. "But without the infighting."
(Personally, I think it's a bit of a mistake to excise history like that. I take the view that the more backstory one knows behind a piece of art, the more one can fully appreciate it. "Imagine" sounds all the sweeter for the death of its creator, and "We Can Work It Out" is all the more poignant when you can relate it to the dissolution of the band. But of course denial can be fun...)
Anyway, this week we watched "Hard Day's Night". I'd never seen it before, and I thought it was oddly bleak. Here were my thoughts.
( Snipped for overanalysis )
Anyway, that's just what I thought. We're watching "Help!" next meeting.
Today:
While sitting in the UC bookstore for three hours, waiting for the rain to let up a little so I could walk to my dorm without actally drowning, I happened to find a copy of The Famous Notebooks of St. Kurt of Seattle.
Flipped through them, just to kill some time. I can't read Kurt Cobain's writing. It's worse than mine. His little cartoons were fairly interesting, though. I liked the one he did of Courtney.
Happily, I could read the few typed memos. One of which contained the statement that (and I may be paraphrasing) "it would be cool if Crispin Glover joined Nirvana".
I am entirely serious. It was on page 195 or possibly 197.
Eventually, the rain abated somewhat. I went back to the dorm and downloaded, on a whim, the video to "In Bloom" and "Smells Like Teen Spirit."
( And then I had the freakiest dream... )
So I woke up. And when I did, I found that I had migrated from my little tiny bed to the couch in the living room, where "Real World" was on. Luckily, I was able to excuse myself before my brain cells had a chance to die.
