"I want to win. That's my job. What am I supposed to do, sit back? There are guys out there with more money than me. (Twins owner) Carl Pohlad, he's maybe the richest man in Minnesota, he can spend some money. I do not like to lose, everybody knows that. Finishing second is like kissing your sister and I don't like that."
- George Steinbrenner
Softball on Saturday was great fun as always, even though my attempts to drive the ball the opposite way actually turned into bunt-ish "hits". I did manage to beat out a couple throws, though, although now I'm paying for it. My entire body aches. I'm not playing softball again until I get some time in a batting cage, either; I'd much rather jog to first base than sprint as if I were on fire.
What else, what else... there is nothing else. 17.5 hours of OT notwithstanding, I'm flat broke until the 15th.
The soundtrack to this morning's commute was Smashing Pumpkins, "MACHINA/The Machines of God", which I bought against my will. For some reason, however, it caught my eye this morning as I was preparing to leave my apartment, and I decided to give it one last shot. It still sucks, and hard. Which is a shame, because everything pre-Mellon Collie, for my money, still kicks ass. I'll even say that "Starla" is in my top 5 songs of all time. I'll also say that the reason why everything pre-MC is so much better than MC and beyond is because pre-MC, Billy Corgan just wrote abstractly and buried his vocals in the mix - the emphasis was on the sonic textures of the guitars and the ass-kicking drums. Once "Siamese Dream" sold however many millions of records, Billy decided that he could rightfully claim the "Generation Spokesperson" title and suddenly all Pumpkins records became about his lyrics, which are pretty terrible. The best example I can think of, even though I'd prefer not to, is: "If I were dead, would my records sell?" on "MACHINA", which goes waaaaaaaay beyond any acceptable level of lyrical narcissism (assuming that there is an acceptable level in the first place).
One of my all-time favorite concerts should have been the Beastie Boys/Smashing Pumpkins Lollapalooza (I think that must've been the summer of '93). The Beasties pretty much destroyed us, encoring with "Sabotage" and causing all 20,000 of us to go completely insane. We were still buzzing when the Pumpkins came on, and they totally ruined the vibe. By the end of their set, half the audience was gone. Corgan took what had been such an amazing day of music and totally fucked it up at the end with his nasal preaching and his random "I am the one" speeches. They encored with "Starla", which blew my mind, but I couldn't really forgive him for the rest of the set. I held out hope for Mellon Collie, though, but it left such an awful taste in my mouth that I haven't even opened the CD case in 5 years.
The good part about all this, though, is that when I was listening to "Machina" this morning, the one thought that kept popping up in my brain was "I can do better than this." I'm hoping that tonight I can stay motivated long enough to write some new music.
Anybody happen to know the English translation for Sigur Ros' "Svefn-G-Englar"? I was joking around with JDixon yesterday that perhaps during that angelic chorus he's actually singing "Cheesebuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurger, cheesebuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurger, cheesebuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurger with fries".
ég er kominn aftur
inn í þig
það er svo gott að vera hér
en stoppa stutt við
ég flýt um í neðansjávar hýði
beintengdur við rafmagnstöfluna
(the chorus is in hopelandic = gibberish)
en biðin gerir mig leiðan
brot hættan sparka frá mér
og kall á - verð að fara - hjálp
ég spring út og friðurinn í loft upp
baðaður nýju ljósi
ég græt og ég græt - aftengdur
ónýttur heili settur á brjóst
og mataður af svefn-g-englum
Edit: Jdixon, right when I was typing this, IMed me a translation:
I’m Here Again
It’s So Good Staying Here
But I Stay A Short While
I Float Around In Underwater Hibernation
In A Hotel Connected To The Electricity Board And Nourishing
But The Wait Makes Me Uneasy - I Kick The Fragility Away
And Shout I Have To Go - Help
I Explode Out And The Peace Is Gone
Bathed In New Light
I Cry And I Cry - Disconnected
A Ruined Brain Put On Breasts
And Fed By Sleepwalkers
Makes you wonder if Michael Jackson is somehow involved... Ted Williams' body now resides in a cryonic warehouse at Alcor Life Extension Foundation in Scottsdale, Ariz., moved there by his son because, as Dan Shaughnessy, columnist for The Boston Globe said: "There are only two ways to think of this: Best case -- The son is in denial and thinks he can bring his father back to life. Worst case -- John Henry hopes to profit from prospective cloning or DNA distribution."
Selected snippet from CNNSI.com:
Speaking of Michael Jackson, anyone see his rant on the music industry over the weekend?