Sunday, October 31, 2010

poor quality photo, but recently i noticed that there are flocks of tiny parrots living in my neighborhood. love this.

Blood for Dracula

Guess who's friends with Joe Dallesandro on Facebook. Jealous?

I love Udo Kier's little baby lisp German accent. "I don't have to teach you anysing!" Favorite Dracula.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Monday, October 18, 2010

White on white, translucent

The greatest movie. Too bad I only have it on VHS. Bauhaus' Bela Lugosi's Dead plays during the opening credits which is why I initially picked it up other than needing to partake of this Bowie/vampire combination. It perfectly sets of the drama of the song. Peter Murphy is sort of playing one of the crazy chimps featured later in the movie, which opens in a Slimelight sort of goth club circa the early 80s, which contains every example of why edgier punkier goth was so terribly cool, and fleeting and possible only then. The Lydia Lunch type vamping in the fog, Deneuve pulling her cigarette away from her red mouth -

The movie is essentially the faulty love story of Deneuve and Bowie, Deneuve and Sarandon, Deneuve and all of the companions she had known through the years. She is a kind of vampire, an ancient Mesopotamian queen or Egyptian priestess who has survived into 1980's Manhattan. At no point is the plot too stupid and flowery to accept, though. Everything falls apart for her in the end, an institution that seemed like it would never end. Deneuve is so epic and beautiful. This was the first time I ever saw her, and when I saw Repulsion a few years later, I could not believe that she could possibly have been around that long.

This was also the first time I heard Schubert's haunting and lovely Piano Trio in E Flat. Intense. Also Lakme.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

just because you have a sixth finger...

what a sweet little dulcimer. and poor anne. my interest in english history is as follows: romans, tudor melodrama, and "haunted" sites. i have always had a special interest in anne boleyn based on her entry in "how did they die?" a grocery store paperback that i read as a kid. it told of her soberly steel nerves on the scaffold when the executioner, probably freaked out at having to murder la boleyn, missed on his first stroke. he cut the top of her head. anne said, allegedly, "please try again."

another reason i am interested in anne is because she was simply too much of an intense bitch to be queen to henry. she was opinionated, spoke out of turn, had an explosive temper, and constantly meddled in affairs of state. the vivacity and individualism that made her so fascinating to henry in turn caused him to hate her when she became his wife. oh the ironies of life.

lady jane seymour, the only one he considered to be his "true" wife. she died from complications of childbirth and is rumored to have been the prettiest queen in the stable, though that isn't saying much. she was pale, blonde, conservative and terribly catholic. i am thinking of angela from the office. she banished all traces of showy, lavish anne from hampton court and taught henry to embroider, about which he became particularly enthusiastic. the people liked jane, and henry officially mourned her for three years instead of his standard week and a half.

Ask Henry. this website is mildly amusing and painstakingly historically accurate as only a batshit historian can maintain. you may address questions to king henry and he will respond.

Sunday, October 10, 2010


this video kind of fixes my life. but only for two minutes! - she has disallowed embedding. fascist. but it's the best quality version on youtube.


"Here is some priceless footage of George watching the Beatles performing 'This Boy' from years before." sidenote, his child looks exactly like him. exactly exactly. I really love George's obvious enjoyment and mirth at watching the then seemingly older-than-dirt video of a past life, and singing along and all. I just love him.

oh &

i really like the name julia, and it is probably because of this song. this song makes me think of this picture, of pretty dark-haired edwardian girls spending the day at a seaside carnival, swimming in their heavy bathing costumes.

i have a paper to write, still. today. FML. i hate this fucking fucking fucking class. it's actually fairly informative blah blah blah, but i have to read excessively for it and i just do not want to. it is very dry. i am writing about article 27 of the mexican constitution, and the pros/cons of "diplomatic recognition". super fuck that. i just want to eat in bed and look at pictures of george harrison from the mid seventies on my day offfff aaahhhhh is that so much to ask!

Saturday, October 9, 2010

melt! siouxsie retropective comprised of five songs.

thinking about siouxsie lately thanks to TSY's latest or latestish post about westwood & 70s british punk fashion shenanigans.

sometimes i forget that she's some kind of cleopatra-akasha goddess, alive but made of marble, glorious and severe and compelling.

unfortches i cannot find any of the personally iconic photos of siouxsie that i counted with my eyes like rosary beads when i needed a little reinforcement back then. isn't it funny how kids deify people? i stumbled upon the blog of some 13 year old who counts (her quote) bowie and robert smith as her patron gods. it is cute and dumb and makes me jealous all at once to be able to create and live in your own little universe like that, undisturbed by outside concerns, a complete refuge made of frozen pupils and smeared lipstick.

actually, poppy z. brite addresses this teen state of psycho-love really well in lost souls. i think she is a little too outre to get proper credit for being a creative master of description, taking you to her place whether you want to go or not, and then freezing that moment in your brain for the rest of your life. obviously i am still returning on occasion. she is among the few writers to give me a physical response. that is sort of my high water mark for otherworldly incredibleness. the curious may know that the two other writers who have done this to me were EAP and anais nin. he shocked me (the black cat - but i was young, never re-read to make sure) and she made me want to throw up (birth, from under a glass bell...still upsets me).

if you are a fan, PZB is a fairly prolific livejournaler here: i stop there once in a while, but it was a particularly epic read during and following hurricane katrina, as she lives in new orleans and has all the violent visceral love/defense for the place that you would figure. really my only complaint is she talks about foie gras a lot and as you can imagine, this offends my hysterical animal-luv tendencies. i don't give a shit if other people eat meat, and you will never hear me making some shrill-ass vegetarian bitch comment to anyone about any of that because frankly i don't care and no one listens anyway, HOWEVER, foie gras is not fucking ok.
there; i said it.

i believe the internet has voted this best live performance in general, ever. i have posted it before. WATCH IT AGAIN.

this is a pretty good song but was never a favorite when i was actively listening to siouxsie. now i am in love with it. i generally find my favorite bands' earliest efforts to be my favorites. maybe they are less tainted by goals and expectations and management. i don't find this to be the case with the banshees. in fact i like the later stuff a bit more than the earlier stuff, which is a little jangly for me and just reminds me of foggy underaged goth club times. see: red light. actually, i do love that song, it's the stuff as from juju (everyone else's favorite) that i feel quite whatev about with some exceptions.

i really liked the rapture. this is from that:

melt! from a kiss in the dreamhouse. why do i keep making qualifications about not liking some siouxsie eras? that's fucking retarded. this song is incredible. dang. i feel a mega siouxsie jag coming on (even more) and me having destroyed my car ipod thing. like, fuck.

oh god i forgot how great this cover is:

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

black moon

hoo boy, new moon tomorrow. i mark the passage of time by this cycle, because what else am i going to use? the seasons and months are different in the desert. most notably, THEY FUCKING SUCK, it's feast or famine. 7 months of kill-yourself heat followed by 5 months of glitteringly beautiful leafy green chilly days.

yes, there is an app for that. this is an image of the current moon as it appears from my particular latitude and longitude. it is the tiniest sliver ever because it's new and black and obfuscated by the bracken of space. this is a good app. apparently it has a "werewolf warning," which i have turned on, but haven't experienced yet. i assume i'll get a small alarm on the next full moon suggesting i take care when wandering through the woods at night.

not necessarily for preternatural creature worries, but i need more of these outlook reminders for life. they keep my days (mostly) punctuated by efficiency and timeliness while my personal life completely unravels afterhours and i can't even remember to pay my fucking bills online.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

more tales of the communist aristocracy

oh, good. a four-inch volume of mitfordian letters for me to read instead of doing whatever i'm supposed to be doing.

i forgot that her daughter had a name other than dinky. constancia! dinky was the name of my step-mother's horse. a popular name for the small and fair.

there are so many more mitford memoirs and biographies now than there were even five years ago. what happened? was there a movie or something?