Kill Everything!    

August 30 1998
No wonder New York is so violent

The task of the day:


For some reason that escapes me, there are lots of towns and areas in New York state that have the word "kill" in them. Fishkill. Catskill. Bearkill. Spekenkill. Kill. Kill..... ahk.....kill....kill....kill everything! kill everything! Oh wait, sorry, went a bit Beavis there for a minute.

Did some more driving around today, this time south of here towards New York City. It's all pretty much the same back country roads. Nothing very exciting. I'm sure these are wonderful communities to live in and commute to the city. But not actually worth a drive.

Stopped at a Dairy Queen for a semi-frozen soft serve gum stabilized milk product. It was everything I ever remember about Dairy Queen. But I found myself sitting there and thinking about the construction of it. Just how much milk is in there, anyway? Is it actual chocolate, and if so, how much of that?

* * *

Travelling music for today was Marillion's Misplaced Childhood. Hadn't listened to it for a long while. Major league progressive band in the middle of their peak. Some MoppyGoth(tm) lyrics thrown in for good measure:

  The sky was Bible black in Lyon,            when I met the Magdalene.
  She was paralysed in her streetlight.       She refused to give her name.
  She wore a ring of violet bruises.          They were pinned upon her arm.
 "Two hundred francs for sanctuary."          She let me by the hand.
  To a room of dancing shadows,               where all the heartache disappears.
  And in the glowing tongues of candles       I heard her whisper in my ears.
 "J'éntend ton coeur."                       "I hear your heart."
And just remember, there's nothing like a bit of French to add some unneeded pretentions to your albumn. But, it's important to repeat the lyric in English in case any teenage boys happen to be listening who weren't paying attention when Ms. Miles was instructing them. (Hi Cookie!)

I'm being overly harsh here. I like Marillion alot. But as with all types of music, there's always the cliche. Progressive has the self-important lyrics, the weedling syths, the Spinal Tap-esque chorded intros, the self-agrandising guitar solos...Wow, what do I see in this again? I guess if you can't see the flaws in something you enjoy, you're taking things too seriously.

* * *

Just informed Marla that I went to Dairy Queen and now she's run out to get some soft serve herself. Oops. Maybe it's catching. We'll not mention it to Shawn when he gets back.

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Copyright 1998 Tom Dowdy