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Scott

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[07 May 2002|02:48am]
[ music | ugly casanova - sharpen your teeth ]

News, kind of.
My final finals are Wednesday and I am leaving on Friday (coming back to Cleveland on the 28th or thenabouts). Since I wanted to have a set of writing-on-the-side done this semester, I decided that tonight's revision of "Life and Dread" (my current project) will be the final one. So here's the scoop:
-- I will eventually be posting the collection on my website, but not just yet.
-- If you go to CWRU, let me know and I will provide you with a copy and be flattered.
-- I will mail you a copy of the collection if you do not go to CWRU, if you email me with your mailing address.
-- "Life and Dread" is the most concise of my collections thus far, at only seven pages, but has been obsessively edited until I am reasonably happy with every word.

I'm certain that the material in this set is better than what I was able to produce for my poetry class this semester, and at least on par with the two poems published in the Case Reserve Review. Let those who know me in on this if they're not livejournal readers, and I'll be eternally grateful.
Bed time.

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[06 May 2002|01:33am]
know what i'd like? a girl who would listen to me if i were on the radio. if i have a radio show this summer, 'specially. imagine her sitting in her bedroom with the radio on, even if she didn't dig everything i played, but just listening 'cuz it was my show. but only if i weren't on too late at night or early in the morning, which might not ever happen.
there are so many qualifications on dreaminess. i want her to call me each week and request the same song we both love.
i do think that things will happen quicker with my head in these clouds, though. it would make things more Wonder Years. damn that's a good show to remember watching...reruns of because i'm not old enough.
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[06 May 2002|01:25am]
[ music | Jim O'Rourke - 94 the Long Way ]

i mixed a recording of ken playing final fantasy music on tin whistle with a recording of me playing pretty much random guitar notes to go along with it. multitracking.
i currently have these albums on my computer ready to burn (yay lists)
am/fm - getting into sinking
badly drawn boy - about a boy OST
barcelona - zero one infinity
beachwood sparks - once we were trees
beat happening - crashing through box set sampler
beulah - handsome western states
breeders - title tk
circulatory system - inside views
cornershop - handcream for a generation
crooked fingers - reservoir songs ep
elf power - creatures
elvis costello - get happy
elvis costello - when i was cruel
enon - high society
flipper - generic
flogging molly - drunken lullabies
gang of four - entertainment!
girls against boys - you can't fight what you can't see
guided by voices - universal truths and cycles
hayden - everything i long for
hayden - skyscraper national park
hayden - the closer i get
herbie hancock - gershwin's world
jeff buckley - grace
jim o'rourke - bad timing
john vanderslice - life and death of an american fourtracker
jon spencer blues explosion - plastic fang
kinks - are the village green preservation society
lambchop - treasure chest of the enemy
liars - they threw us in a trench and stuck a monument on top
louvin bros - satan is real
magnetic fields - 69 love songs vol 1
miles davis - kind of blue
mission of burma - signals, calls, and marches ep
modern lovers - precise modern lovers order (live)
mountain goats - the coroner's gambit
mum - finally we are no one
my morning jacket - at dawn
my morning jacket / songs:ohia split
nwa - niggaz4life
organic grooves - black cherry
pere ubu - dub housing
pere ubu - songs of the bailing man
phantom planet - the guest
prefuse 73 - vocal studies/uprock narratives
radar bros - and the surrounding mountains
rocket from the crypt - rftc
rolling stones - hot rocks 64-71
sebadoh - iii
six organs of admittance - dark noontide
songs:ohia - ghost tropic
spoon - a series of sneaks
stooges - raw power
super furry animals - guerilla
super furry animals - mwng
the aluminum group - pedals
the flaming lips - clouds taste metallic
this heat - deceit
tom waits - alice
tom waits - blood money
tossers - long dim road
trail of dead - madonna
ugly cassanova - sharpen your teeth
walkmen - everyone who pretended to like me is gone
ween - chocolate and cheese
wilco - yankee hotel foxtrot
wire - pink flag
yo la tengo - painful
...
look at all that indie. if anyone wants any of this, let me know so i can send it to you over IM or something.

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[30 Apr 2002|03:56am]
...
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[30 Apr 2002|03:56am]
totally lying in a sober stupor on my floor, it seems like a long time ago that i had my last class today...or yesterday, it is now. it was like 13 hours ago, so i guess that makes sense.
i am tired of the ambivalence of case girls (or at least their ambivalence towards me). it seems like such a maze of games that it's hard to believe any interest could lay at the root. tonight i danced with l, e, s, and an interest, which doesn't look bright.
laying down again now.
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[29 Apr 2002|03:46pm]
[ music | The Mountain Goats - Jaipur ]

could i be digging girl-rock? i've been listening to the breeders and the bangs a bit lately, shit i'd sworn off with tom waits and matthew ryan adams, ernest hemingway and e.e. cummings instead of dorothy parker and sylvia plath. maybe i really am turning gay (because, of course, listening to the breeders instead of frank black makes you homosexual - pick your post-pixies project). i wonder if there's a formula for that.
might try the 77 minutes of crunches tonight, since i got my engl 150 portfolio done this morning, a full 24 hours before it's due. a record.
in other news, i changed my icon to a picture of my nude torso.
the 'detect music' thing that the livejournal client does is pretty neat.
"cleveland .38" and "temperate", two of my poems from this semester, are going to be in the Case Reserve Review, which should be around campus today or tommorow. I got $5 for each poem. here is "temperate":

There's a brush in the sky
painting over its beaten metal dome
dry-brushing cumulus and tracing
cirrus
a sun that burns away the foil.

City blocks, detail-heavy

pedestrians elevated above motorists
lines to every block
brushed hair-straight through the Midway
new bangs in front
ashen, frizzled in the back.

There's a sun that burns away the foil
hangs over wide bathtubs full with saltwater
drying the wet from chameleon leaves, makes its deposit
roaring soundlessly, imploding
hotter than Jesus
frozen between giants
and dwarves, glowing thermostat faces.

I'm painting over a bleach-metal dome
bending tabs and fixing decals
damp nervous fingers
feel the rotors.
plane lackings in capacity
covered over,
balmed.

There's a brush in the sky
writing burlap and sandstone
writing canvas and cardboard
stippled, maverick
frogs hide under a bush,
drip dark tempra
***

dominating your 'friends' page.

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[25 Apr 2002|01:30am]
[ mood | stressed ]
[ music | boards of canada - music has the right to children ]

I got the Americorps AQUACorps job, so I'll be in Cleveland this summer from May 20 through the beginning of August, before having to be here early to be an Orientation leader. Such responsibilities! I'm looking forward to this new summer independence. Car or not.
My English 150 instructor sent out an email following today's final class naming six class members to get awards, including most improvement, competitive, and best attitude. I got "Best Talent". My head swells. Most of the time, something like that is followed with "...but does not apply himself."
So, who wants a mix CD? I feel the itch again. But this time, I want it to be for someone I know. It's easier that way.
Lots of work, still. Better keep the GPA reasonable.

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[22 Apr 2002|03:59pm]
I think I was a big moron on Saturday night while tipsy (or whatever you'll call it)... I believe I told a few people that "Ghetto Posse is gonna cornhole you." Also I recall Gregg repeatedly saying "Scott, that girl over there, she wants you. Her pussy is wet."
So I don't forget everything, it would seem.
To do before semester's end:
Psych 282 quiz (study)
Engl 214 poetry portfolio
Engl 150 revision and major paper and portfolio
Psych 102 workbook (?) and test
Philosophy 101 short paper and major paper
Engl 256 read "jazz" by toni morrison, blecch.

www.tinytelephone.com (john vanderslice's studio) has some good rare mp3s, including all the tracks from the old all-time quarterback EP by ben gibbard.
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[20 Apr 2002|02:51am]
[ mood | chill ]
[ music | herbalizer ]

it's pretty late.
i found the following sites for nearly-nude indie rock/punk/emo boys and girls:
www.suicidegirls.com
www.undiesonlyclub.com
www.supercult.com
I don't have any pictures of me in my boxers (or briefs), but maybe one day.
"Code Unknown". I write that here so I don't forget its name. I saw it tonight at the Cinematheque. French original title: Code inconnu: Recit incomplet de divers voyages.
Listening to some Herbalizer, stripped down. I sat around by the fountain outside Guilford today and read some Sennett and Cummings and played guitar a little. I sure am a shitty musician. Seriously!
these last late nights i've only wanted to listen to IDM and hip-hop. I'm taking a break from "Life and Dread" because of all the projects I have piling up. I am thinking more about handwritten stuff now, though, thanks to Sarita.
"The blank CD is in the recorder, fuckface!" --da bitchianti

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[13 Apr 2002|05:22pm]
last night, i got very drunk and hit my head on a coffee table. it didn't hurt at the time, but it's a little sore today. I also remember standing on a second or third floor balcony and spilling beer from a mug on some guy's head, intentionally. He looked up, but I tried to appear innocent, observing the stars and whatnot. My ass went unkicked.
i don't know about myself, but gregg gillis is from Awesome Beach.
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[12 Apr 2002|04:53pm]
hotel stationery
-airports - indy (drive with crafty & belle & sebastian)
waiting in the boarding lines. Old people, companions
can't tell when this plane lands. It startles me
the other prosps are downstairs and I say hello, circle out and leave the first shy-off
i meet Pete, my roommate. We explore our luxuries, including the robes
That deaf Chinese girl. It's ironic.
That whole self-confidence deal
it worked, right (why not?)
2 nights
Jean, tours, Bruegger's as a collegiate gueststop
two unremembered wake-up calls
all this attention (self) in
lunches, Timberlake, Saget, and the lost
heartbeats, being shallow, guess more was wrong, but I touch the hottest girl among them. Me... So what does that say? I'd have to guess that if I'm him, then I get what I want - and I shouldn't be nice; at least, not right away.

This is a completely disconnected experience - is that perfection?
Is fearing no consequences the human ideal?
And does a lack of shyness in the path of logic (logic: don't be shy), does it ever make for likeability? Once, at least. Essay exam and my nights for none
and if I stop to think that maybe being totally on my own and this step being from an already-goodness, maybe I'll be a Superman. At least I'm more artsy (right). Ken and the looks brown. Forest of arrows
all the airlines are the same
and all the gates match
and weird music on display is snob appeal. Yes, it falls down. Do I want to sound good, or do I want to sound like myself?
things seem to turn out that way, and there are a million epithets just like that B
and we write them into emo.
2 black ladies tell me I look like Justin Timberlake. He's hot, right?
Pete (b.f.): sideburns. Oh, I love not caring - airports and jumping up and down with a transcendent Eat a Dick! that is who I can assume, that's fun. Oh, and popping (or trying to) pop a zit at the airport - the start is but isn't it fun
and really anything else
-anna: >elliot=, b&s;, ct, hd, et al; wanting?
Rachel Lieberman: two big teeth, Jewish RI girl, slightly annoying, her baguette takes forever; once more, unpleasant directions?
all those g- pre-meds; I'm just the knight
so ouch! Man there were some - bubbly girl was pretty damn smart. .. Et al

the art of masquerade, right - maybe that could be good shy-guy, shoegazing narrative, you know, this even, is ART IN PUBLIC. It's still about the image
it is all about image, and seeing what I can earn
i can earn skin, right? And someday there'll be something to go with it.
I can settle, if you recall. (Most perfume smells the same)

-napkin:
so after a day of interviews, you stayed up till past 4 in the morning, trying to sleep on a couch with the best-looking fellow candidate curled around, under, and on top of you
and you're tired today, sitting to Chicago with the tray table down, Alk and DMP with a glass of better Sprite than they even serve at DS. While you're counting sheep, I'll count my lucky stars - you were the last good thing I ever saw.
Certainly something to remember myself in - if that really were me, it wasn=t as my fav character Mr. Unsuccessful; this g----- atiom might be my pride; God!

***
Standing in line for my boarding pass, I ran over this weekend in my mind.

this was all a year ago. it was one year ago.
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[12 Apr 2002|04:23pm]




that's for you, gregg.
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[10 Apr 2002|08:54pm]
[ mood | crushed ]
[ music | Magnetic Fields, The - I Think I Need a New Heart ]

i think i need a new heart
(la la la la
la la la la la)
i think i need a new heart.
i'd much rather be quirky stephen merritt/john linnell/calvin johnson depressed than dashboard confessional/elliott smith (whom i like, don't worry)/smashing pumpkins depressed.
wouldn't you?

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[10 Apr 2002|01:10am]
[ music | don caballero - what burns never returns ]

sitting in the room, listening to adam play his stuff on jean's show. he played fugazi, modest mouse, the dismemberment plan (to jean's dismay, no doubt), the detachment kit, death cab for cutie, trail of dead, and the faint so far.
my set on andy's show last week was, to my recollection: the slackers - alone again, bosstones - hope i never lose my wallet, super furry animals - (drawing) rings around the world, tmbg - she thinks she's edith head, dismemberment plan - the ice of boston, matthew sweet - sick of myself... that might be it. someone called to ask about "the ice of boston", having liked it. applying for an AmeriCorps job in cleveland this summer, if I get it things will be set nicely.
adam is finishing with sonic youth - teenage riot.

i am trying to work more on "Life and Dread", but my week of inspiration seems a bit bookended at this point. I missed USG again tonight, which means I haven't been since spring break. unless they email me, i guess i just won't go any more. what a great student government rep.
enthusiasm does not become an indie rocker, apparently. instead of 'that band rocks', you must say, "they're all right."
all right, back to don caballero.

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[02 Apr 2002|02:51pm]
high recommendations (i have time for this shit these days):
spoon - girls can tell (album)
the microphones - i felt your shape (song)
the unbearable lightness of being (milan kundera) (book)
i sing of Olaf glad and big (ee cummings) (poem)
road atlas (campbell mcgrath) (poetry book)
television - marquee moon (album)
can - ege bamyasi (album)
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[02 Apr 2002|11:43am]
Which beatnik are you?
You are Lawrence Ferlinghetti

The "Which Beatnik Are You?" test was created by aglaea. Take the test here!
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[01 Apr 2002|10:10am]
Boy, everyone is stupid except me.
--homer simpson

Latest madness:
decide to try and wear the same clothes (a white t-shirt and khaki pants) for the rest of the school year without washing them unless i happened to be doing the rest of my laundry. I actually don't think anyone will notice, as long as I still shower every day.

Burned some albums: Giant Sand - Cover Magazine, The Mekons - Fear and Whiskey, Television - Marquee Moon, Do Make Say Think - & Yet & Yet, Chicago Underground Duo - Axis and Alignment, probably some other shit too.

Still working on a new writing collection.
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workin [30 Mar 2002|04:04pm]
I saw Clinic last night at the Grog Shop; a good time was had. I went with more people than I expected would want to come along: Adam (of course), Sarita, Brandi and Rachel from CIA, Adam's friend James, Chris, Pete and his younger brother, Alex, and Jack Mack. Quite a crowd, indeed. Apparently the show nearly sold out in advance (a rarity for Grog Shop shows, being that it's just a bar and doesn't really deal in big-time acts), and we got there over an hour early to find that many people had already arrived. Pete, Jack, and Pete's brother got there only a little while after we did and were turned away...fortunately, they were able to get inside with a bit of cunning, pockets full.
Kaito opened; they are a British rock-pop band, with female lead singer and bassist. I enjoyed most of their songs, as they threw in some interesting sounds: a toy "ray-gun" and toy touch-tone phone, along with heavy breathing and gibberish sounds for the choruses of some songs. None of them, however, seemed to know how to play their instruments particularly well and and choruses were frequently something monosyllabic (i.e. "STOP!" or "NO!") screamed three or four times. They played ear-splittingly loudly, though, and whenever the hideous male lead guitarist screamed his enthusiastic accompaniment, my deaf eardrum rattled. Literally, I think. I bet they're better recorded. They were followed by the Kingsbury Manx, whom I'd heard good things about. Unfortunately, they were very boring, playing semi-dreamy, wussy textured but bland songs that provoked Jack Mack to say, "I hate it when bands use lots of distortion but don't ROCK!". The band's bassist and keyboardist looked as bored by their music as the audience did.
Clinic followed, and to my delight each band member wore green operating room scrubs and caps with surgical masks. Lead singer Ade Blackburn (I think that's his name) as well as the band's secondary guitarist had mouth-slits cut in the masks to allow for singing/unobstructed breathing. This had an even creepier effect. The band played popular songs from their two proper albums (including "The Second Line", "The Return of Evil Bill", "Walking With Thee", and "Harmony"), with only a "Thank you. This is (next song name)". When they finished playing, it seemed that it was an interlude as they had taken so little time up. They returned for an encore, then ended. I decided that I was thoroughly creeped-out by the masked band's aura, helped by the fact that unlike all other Grog Shop bands they had roadies to set up their equipment and could wear the single cloak of performer. Their rhythm section was particularly tight, vocals on target, and my $12 was well-spent.
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[29 Mar 2002|01:37am]
hey i just reformatted my hard drive. all i saved was a little bit of irreplaceable music, art, and writing. everything else is brand new!
i only have 7 hours of mp3s now.
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ridicule and righteousness [27 Mar 2002|07:43pm]
[ mood | confused ]
[ music | Dan Bern - I'm Not the Guy ]

fitting music for this mood.
this was one of the more ridiculous evenings in recent memory:

So two-and-a-half hour poetry class, 3:30-6. We're reading our sestinas written for this week (well, about four people got the chance to read theirs; I didn't). Everyone loves Shalonda's poem, which contains the following lines:

I just wanna be alone in my own zone
Cracking your ear bones, leaving your mind blown,
And fuck your microphones, cuz sucka I got my own.
So get the hell out of this zone
Leave me the hell alone,
Before liquid poison is blown
Through your bones.
The fault will be your own
Cuz I told you not to touch my microphones.


This poem is a piece of shit. The rest of it is just like this. All but one of her poems have rhymed in this fashion, and she always receives class and professorial acclaim for them. This poem says nothing but "Fuck you, and step off!". I made the comment that while I thought she used inventive phrasing (only partially true), I didn't feel that the poem said anything worthwhile. Her response was that there was much more to the poem than the perceived message, but she just didn't have "time to sit down and explain it to you". OK, fine. But a poem should stand on its own.
This wasn't dropped, though. My professor asked me to explain what I disliked about it, so I said that I disliked the accusatory nature of the poem, feeling that I didn't deserve the insulting, sassy tone taken with the reader. He informed me that I had a "guilt complex" which I apparently need to deal with before I can appreciate such poetry.
BULLSHIT BULLSHIT BULLSHIT
*ahem*
So, after trying to explain my feelings about this, Shalonda says something like "oh, but it (our dispute) goes deeper than this". She makes reference to my comments on her other poems (we get copies of everyone's poem each week and 'workshop' them for the next class session), particularly one that I compared to Maya Angelou and stated that I felt all of her poems were similar (they are, in both form and theme). After being berated further for my "guilt complex", matters were allowed to drop..but no!
After class, Shalonda hands me a paper she had apparently written for another class (grade: A-). Despite its being an essay, it rhymes every line too! She says, "OK, I'm gonna give this to you, and it's over. K?" I say that I don't dislike her, I just don't like her writing. I get a "whatever". Later on, I read this paper, and I discover that it's all about how hurt she was that I implied she was copying Maya Angelou. Here is an exerpt:
I was choked up by the words. I couldn't believe what I heard. How could his response been so absurd? The reference to my sassiness stung like needles of nastiness. What would he askmenext? He asked if I move my neck when I talk, and switch my hips when I walk, if it's cuz my style had maya angelou's stalked. Actually, I move my neck cuz my head is too big for any hat, I switch cuz my ass is real real phat, and I saw your eyes peeping through your curly hair, so you must like that.

Jesus fucking Christ. I wonder if no one has ever given this girl a word of criticism before, because apparently she can't handle it. For instance, I never said anything about her personality or about her "phat phat ass" let alone "peeped" at it. She's blown up my dislike for her hip-hop-centric poems to imply that I'm both an asshole and a racist.
Should I also point out that it makes no sense at all that she cares so much that one person out of the 25-some in the class thinks? Could I really be the only person that has ever dared criticize? I am not going to workshop any more of her poems for this class; this reaction (both holding a huge grudge AND writing a paper for another class about how much she doesn't like me!) is WAY out of proportion.
I hope that you can begin to grasp how ridiculous this is and what a threat to freedom of opinion it poses. I know that I might seem to be unduly vile about this situation, but I've been pushed too much, past the limits of reason.

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