GOULET!!!!!

(November 26, 1933 – October 30, 2007)


Wow.... I can't believe you are gone. It seems like only yesterday I was singing along with you in the Simpsons. Hell you played on my iPod today on the bus from school to work. It was karmic, or disturbing, I haven't decided yet.

You're Canadian just like me. Fortunately my lungs are in relatively fine shape (I hope). Unfortunately I could never sing like you, being a girl, and not being able to sing all that well. I, unlike you am not in the Canadian Walk of Fame... my jealousy knows no bounds. So well, you kind had a lot more going for you than I. My hat is tipped to you sir.

Why did fate, and lung issues keep us apart? Why dear sir?

So Robert Goulet, I hope you keep the crowds a bopping in that concert hall in the sky.

Schwaaa?

Nothing makes me shudder more than the thought of being in a hardcore punk band. I don't think I can pull safety pins and head punches off with style. I can pull off angry drummer though, since no matter what I would do, it would never fuck up the song. So....


Back soon with tales of doom metal goodness... and Swedes with bad stage presence.

Anarchy in Canada.

Oh how I wish I had the time to music blog. I have many entries drafted, waiting my special touch ( i.e. finishing), but yet they rest in limbo.

Right now I'm sitting at my laptop, the Iyiyi on random, trying to type up a reflective religion and psychology paper, and transcribe an interview I conducted. Then I have Gnostic primary source scripture to read..... lord help me.

Back to it!!!

I've not become comfortably numb yet

Anyone who knows me well enough knows my obsession with music and religion (a passion of work and study I suppose) is all-consuming. No really, it is. I often buy music merely because I can figure out the religious nature of it. Weird, I know. Hell I bought a Mandy Patinkin CD because he was singing entirely in Yiddish. If you ever read this Mandy.... you are amazing. But back to my point....

This past Friday whilst puttering along Queen St. I popped into a Tibetan ritual store and acquired a Tibetan singing bowl and tingsha (little hand cymbals, but better)....... I've been salivating over this for some time. Musical rituals? Well I never!

So in an effort to not write the comparative religions textual analysis I have due tomorrow, and to which I am already half-finished, tonight I finally figured out how to use my singing bowl. I'm too ashamed to describe how it is I originally conceived it to work, but needless to say after youtubeing "singing bowl" and watching a pro, I got the hang of it. Anyone who doubts the hypnotic power of the bowl is deluded, just like those who are apathetic to "Closer" by NIN. That song is the sex and you all know it.

This bowl is addictive I say. Enlightenment is only a bowl away! I suggest everyone get or try one, even if for a few moments, it truly is an experience, just like listening to Dark Side of the Moon, high and in the dark is, just less frightening. Or watching the Wall.....

That's all I have since I should get back to the paper.

Have a good one!

True Love

Dear Henry Rollins,

I've loved you from afar for many a year. Your acerbic wit and humor have warmed the cockles of my heart. I even loved you when I heard your "Can't get behind that" with William Shatner awhile back. Your neck entrances me with its sheer width, but I'm convinced that is the source of your power, thator your punk-attitude, either or is fine in my books.

So in conclusion Mr. Rollins, tomorrow night when I am sitting up in Convocation Hall listening to your Spoken Word Tour, please wink at me, or call me to your dressing room after the show. I will provide sufficient gawking and assurance of your utter greatness. No really, I will. We are meant to be, if only for a moment.

obsessively yours,
Laura.

I've been a bad bad girl

I love how as my semester continues to plod along I become fixated on certain songs. I play them whenever I need to clear my head, get into a groove, or just get started.Right now I'm currently infatuated with Criminal by Fiona Apple. Call it love of interesting lyrics, a vocal range I can sing along to, or just plain silliness, but this song rocks. I've been listening to it every morning as I get ready for classes. It not only wakes me up, but it gets me geared to go. Judge me as you will.


Also, in a fit of trying to get myself motivated to write an assignment this evening on a Gnostic text, I jumped around my room singing Dance, Dance by FOB. And before you even ask, yes I am fully ashamed of myself (well kind of).