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Music for Airports is kind of great. I listened to it from/to work. It was particularly good last night, what with the autumn leaves and children running through them. The puppies and babies in baby carriages. The young couples holding mittened hands. I think I might start to cry.
That could just be the Battlestar Galactica talking though. God, most depressing thing EVER. I always come home and rustle through the Netflix and Blockbuster envelopes on the table for something good to watch, and there was Battlestar Galactica, and Edward James Olmos is in it! In my mind, I saw him reprising his role as Gaff from Blade Runner which I don’t need to tell you or mom or ANYONE is my favorite movie. But what’s he doing instead? Fucking moping around. He’s just whispering into his microphone the whole time as incredibly sad things happen all around him. Not kidding, in the first hour of this show, all but 50,000 humans die, the president learns she has cancer, and a robot snaps an infant’s neck. Everyone looks like they’re about to burst into tears all the time, especially me. So, you know, I watched it for about 10 hours in the past 48, tissues in hand, adding tons of chinatown hotsauce to my Chef Boyardee just to feel something. Anything.
Which, weirdly, brings me back to Brian Eno, because the third track I think sounds very Vangelis-esque, from the Blade Runner soundtrack. It’s weird!
But I ordered about US$70 worth of parts for projects. I’m thinking of making a rigid construction schedule for myself, so I’d go home and consult a big calendar and let it run my life, though whenever it comes time to do something I have scheduled, I never trust it. That is to say, I distrust myself in the past. Because, I mean, that idiot doesn’t know as much as I do, how could he possibly know what’s best for me now? Who’s he think he is?