saw felinity tonight (wednesday) and we saw crash, a very long, hard, train wreck of a film... actually good but not easy, and with one or two glaring faults...
a film that tries to look racial identity and prejudice in the eye and succeeds partly but is also caricatured and stereotyped... two words which maybe shouldn't be used in the past tense like that now i'm looking at them...
anyway we had a nice time, she treated me to a dinner and we got in to the film with almost the last of those free tickets...
she told me that yesterday, when i posted that pablo neruda poem for stringbeanjean she'd assumed it was part of this poetry meme that LJ people were doing, all kinds of people posting poetry, but it wasn't, and i find it pleasing, the coincidence...
came home just in time for lost which was alright, i just cannot wait for six feet under to get to terrestrial tv... lost is ok... but give me the undertakers any day of the week,
almost got sucked into a film that i missed the beginning of, had james spader and was set in mexico... it looks good so i'll watch it in it's completeness one day (assuming i find out what it is)...
and then i realised that the autumnal equinox is almost upon us, so wrapped up in the actual changing season that i'd forgotten this celestial event was coming, i often get good creativity around the equinox's and solstices and here i am with it about to happen with a fully functioning fender rhodes piano just sat here...
pleasing...
ok, planning my teaching tomorrow, later kids
x
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2 comments:
Henry in trouble whirped out lonely whines.
When ich when was ever not in trouble?
But did he whip out whines
afore? And when check in wif ales & lifelines
anyone earlier O?—Some, now, Mr Bones,
many.—I am fleeing double:
Mr Past being no friends of mine,
all them around: Sir Future Dubious,
calamitous & grand:
I can no foothold here; wherefore I pines
for Dr Present, who won't thrive to us
hand over neither hand
from them blue depths nor choppering down skies
does Dr Present vault unto his task.
Henry is weft on his own.
Pluck Dr Present. Let his grievous wives
thrall lie to livey toads. May his chains bask.
lower him, Capt Owen, into the sun.
So, would you sell your Fender Rhodes to me? please?
I'm from Portugal but I could go pick it up at London.
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