peaches in the summertime, apples in the fall.

I had a dream last night that involved the english comedian, David Mitchell, methamphetamine, and myself, all at a house party. interestingly i didnt do meth nor talk to mitchell. in fact i cant quite remember what it was that i did do. probably just watched people do meth and talk to david mitchell. now its been a while since ive read freud and i havent yet seen inception so i dont really want to talk about dreams. so ive got nothing more on that.

also, i used to tell my dad that beer tastes like green beans. he didnt believe me. and recently i havent thought so either. however. as i have just eaten a plate full of green beans and am now drinking a beer, i once again think the tastes are close.

30 min break in between ^ that and this v

right, so. bonnie 'prince' billy, will oldham, palace, palace brothers. whatever you want to call him. or rather, more like whatever he wants to call himself. his lyrics are just shocking. normal/normal/normal/disturbing. i like them. he makes everyone else seem normal/normal/normal/normal. same goes for death to everyone. for me this is basically a route course in the light/dark, overworld/underworld binary present in existentialism, for better or for worse. the irony of that question-'im actually living, are you?' because to the protag, living is decadent and to not be living is to not be decadent. does it make sense? yeah, kinda. theres certainly some grandeur in the decadence, especially in art. i mean what good writer/artist/musician wasnt dealing with a complete addiction to opiates for at least part of their productive lives (and usually their most prolific)? probably most are/were. for a while its positively correlated, then its, well, not. and to be clear and transparent, i certainly wouldnt want to be on opiates. nor would i want the people that build bridges and run our lives through wall street on them either (though i definitely think, especially in the case of wall street, that they are). but i digress, this song is not about heroin, it just sounds like it is.

that repetition of 'im stuck here, but here is where life is, where you are you are just pretending to live.' we've read it lots of times, but we rarely hear it, especially in a folk/antifolk context. thats what makes will oldham great. sure i love folk, more than most, but oftentimes its treatment of death in the city is maybe too, well, faulknerian and less rothian. or probably to be more accurate delilloian or reedian (as in lou). why do we, the read always have to add -ians and -isms? probably because its easier, and thats why im fine with it. and its like a nerd inside joke that isnt math or sci fi related. we have to cherish those. anyway.

i want to talk about the chorus, or one of the choruses. 'and it makes hosing/much more fun.' what is hosing? too be honest im not really sure but i ahve some guesses. oldham definitely builds a lot of songs around misuse of words, or by structuring new contexts around old words to create new meanings. i think here that 'hosing' certainly refers to the life he lives. whores and murder, maybe, but probably. more heavy than the whores than the murder i would bet, this isnt death metal. alas, both viable meanings of the term. this life is what he calls living, but by the Other is considered to be nonliving, or living in the underworld or disassociated from reality. the key subtlety here is that he acknowledges that his life is 'hosing.' by doing so is he subtely implicating himself as 'nonliving' then? the rebuttal being, 'life is hosing at its core, etc.' oftentimes thats what any similar discussion of existentialism falls back on, and thats why sartre ended up looking dumb and camus, by acknowledging absurdity looked substantially less so, but to many still pretty dumb. in short. in too short. but thats what im getting at. basically this guy knows hes fucked up, but is trying to justify his own existence. thats the key take away here. and we all do it every day.