2019-08-30

sovay: (Sydney Carton)
Things that did not actually happen this week: me recuperating any of my lost sleep. Other things that did not therefore happen this week: me getting anything done that required my brain and was not my job. I don't even know how to describe how I feel, except it's bad.

I did manage to get to Perry Henzell's The Harder They Come (1972) last night with [personal profile] rushthatspeaks for their birthday. It was just as good—and its soundtrack just as legendary—as I had been led to believe. I got home and looked up star and iconic songwriter Jimmy Cliff and discovered I had seen his daughter in 2016: Nabiyah Be, who originated Eurydice off-Broadway in Hadestown. That is a family with no shortage of mythic charisma.

I am trying to figure out why Momus' "I Was a Maoist Intellectual," Alabaster dePlume's "Is It Enough," and Black Country, New Road's "Sunglasses" all seem to constellate in my head. They are all talky, satirical, self-referential songs, but that doesn't feel like an explanation. The last, however, features the best saxophone skronk I've heard since Poly Styrene or Lora Logic.

I will be spending a portion of this weekend at the HFA's all-night half-marathon; this year's theme is Dark Waters. At least I can get the sea onscreen.

ETA: [personal profile] spatch has just sent me an archaeological record of sea otters. And a delightful and contextually mystifying photo of Anthony Perkins on the set of Psycho (1960). I appreciate these things.
sovay: (Rotwang)
Neither of us is looking at the camera, but my niece likes this picture of herself with her new trilobite best because it's the one where she's laughing. Maybe the trilobite is looking at the camera. It's got complex eyes. And it's very snuggly.

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