![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
And there's this all-night garage and the 7-Eleven
For reasons as yet unknown to medical science, although I am doing my best to get medical science to find them out, I am in the acutely worst shape I have been in since the summer of 2023 and it is devouring all of my time. Have some links.
1. In music still in situ on my computer, I have had the Punters' "Jim Harris" (1997) since 2005 when I believe it to have been one of the fruits of a now-deceased music community on LJ. It is not a variant on Child 243; it was contemporarily written by Peter Leonard of Isle Valen about a local schooner fender-bender in 1934. I discovered last year that it's got a Roud number and I have never gotten over the way its last verse turns from traditionally recounted maritime mini-disaster to Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi:
It's all right when the wheel is going up, but when she turns for to go down
You all might meet with the same sad fate as Jim Harris in Paradise Sound
The folk tradition being what it is, this song is naturally the only thing I know abour its eponymous captain, which is rough.
2. I should not have read this article about the Instagram filter valley of the current rejuvenative craze for deep-plane face-lifts no matter what because one of the reasons I have trouble being read as younger than my age is that I have worked very hard to reach this one, but toward the end of the piece I hit an anonymously quoted surgeon, "When you look at someone else with an elite face-lift . . . all you should be thinking is, How did you age better than me? The goal is you want to look genetically dominant to other people," and at the notion that eugenics should be aspirationally mixed with ageism, I just wanted that surgeon to be operated upon by Dr. Einstein after an all-night open-bar horror marathon. I felt better after dialing up the grainily inimitable footage of Pamela Blair's "Dance: Ten; Looks: Three" (1975).
3. Thanks to listening to Arthur Askey, I became curious about the origins of the musical have-a-banana phrase which diffused decades ago from music hall into general pop culture and apparently the best guess is a Rocky Horror-style audience improvisation that has now endured as a meme for more than a century. Good for it.
I just want to sleep and read books and write about movies. Who's even asking for a small fortune?
1. In music still in situ on my computer, I have had the Punters' "Jim Harris" (1997) since 2005 when I believe it to have been one of the fruits of a now-deceased music community on LJ. It is not a variant on Child 243; it was contemporarily written by Peter Leonard of Isle Valen about a local schooner fender-bender in 1934. I discovered last year that it's got a Roud number and I have never gotten over the way its last verse turns from traditionally recounted maritime mini-disaster to Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi:
It's all right when the wheel is going up, but when she turns for to go down
You all might meet with the same sad fate as Jim Harris in Paradise Sound
The folk tradition being what it is, this song is naturally the only thing I know abour its eponymous captain, which is rough.
2. I should not have read this article about the Instagram filter valley of the current rejuvenative craze for deep-plane face-lifts no matter what because one of the reasons I have trouble being read as younger than my age is that I have worked very hard to reach this one, but toward the end of the piece I hit an anonymously quoted surgeon, "When you look at someone else with an elite face-lift . . . all you should be thinking is, How did you age better than me? The goal is you want to look genetically dominant to other people," and at the notion that eugenics should be aspirationally mixed with ageism, I just wanted that surgeon to be operated upon by Dr. Einstein after an all-night open-bar horror marathon. I felt better after dialing up the grainily inimitable footage of Pamela Blair's "Dance: Ten; Looks: Three" (1975).
3. Thanks to listening to Arthur Askey, I became curious about the origins of the musical have-a-banana phrase which diffused decades ago from music hall into general pop culture and apparently the best guess is a Rocky Horror-style audience improvisation that has now endured as a meme for more than a century. Good for it.
I just want to sleep and read books and write about movies. Who's even asking for a small fortune?
no subject
I had so many appointments last week! It is not how I like to spend my time!
augh. argh. I mean, people with facelifts just tend to give me uncanny valley anyway so I'm not really the person to comment, but I can't even begin to anything with that quote. Lovely.
A mille-feuille of NOPE.
I mainly know it from Cabin Pressure which I relistened to in early summer so it's currently a constant meme in my head. Presumably at some point the effect will fade again, lol. But currently: every time I contemplate eating or buying bananas and occasionally on not-particularly-banana-related moments.
Condolences! I am eating a lot of bananas at the moment, so it is also a kind of built-in riff. I heard it first in a field-collected soldier's song from WWII and sincerely thought the singer was offering the songcatcher a banana, like they were sitting over the breakfast table or something.
(I'm not quite at the end of The Stone Tape but am still thoroughly enjoying it! Not news, of course, but Jane Asher always is so good, isn't she? <3 Also it looks exactly like a Thriller episode (but much better in content. Although not as lolsome either, it's true. XD))
(Doesn't have to be news, I'm still glad to hear it! And then my head exploded because I had not actually made the connection. The Stone Tape was the first place for all intents and purposes I saw her.)