Today was so failmade, discovering the Mountain Goats' "Lovecraft in Brooklyn" was almost its only redemption. A friend did send me some tentacle porn, however, and I have just received spam whose subject header reads "The Bachelor's Roseless Conclusion"—I'm sure it's a stolen pop headline, but I think it might still be the best title ever. At least a song by the Decemberists or David Bowie. When I am feeling a little less scraped out, I need to mention Milk (2008), Spirited Away (2001), and Fearless (1993), all of which I saw this week, and something about Edith Sitwell.
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Page Summary
Active Entries
- 1: We dig for the gods that leave no bones
- 2: Now there's always someone else in the back of your mind
- 3: I've got no roots, but my home was never on the ground
- 4: Ma twll yn y pridd yn Alltwalis lle taflaf fy mhryderon
- 5: There's more room on the basement couch
- 6: When we take on new bodies, I will scour the earth to find you again
- 7: And the fisherman collects, yes, they collect the sounds from their nest above
- 8: A kidnapper wouldn't jump into a cold sea
- 9: A stranger light comes on slowly
- 10: I might fail math if you don't move your shoulder
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