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January 29th, 2009
12:48 am - Toy Piano? Anyone?
Of late I'm lost in a mawkish sea of '70s pop and the occasional noise track for good measure. These are warm-weather melodies (the mawk-pop, anyway), but I've exhausted (for the evening) my resources of winter music.
Also: poaching an egg. I've semi-succeeded twice. Suggestions include salting the water, sliding the egg in slower...I dunno. I'm running out of eggs, and eating what basically amounts to cholesterol blobs as a late-night snack several times per week can't be healthy. My problem is this: the yolk and a small portion of the white cook as they should; that is, with the yolk representing the atomic nucleus, and the white congealing into Feynman's electron cloud. Except, most of the white just turns stringy and floats on top of the water.
Tips? Helpful hints?
Write to:
The Indifferent Chef
P.O. Box 809
Carrboro, NC
27510
All written responses will be included in a future column of The Indifferent Chef.
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January 7th, 2009
01:42 am - Death Songs
LOVE & DEATH
(a mix in 4 acts)
(Copyright LC 2008)
ACT I - YOU DIED
TEEN ANGEL - Mark Dinning
HONEY - Bobby Goldsboro
DEATH LETTER - Son House
MOODY RIVER - Pat Boone
EBONY EYES - Everly Brothers
EMMA - Hot Chocolate
ODE TO BILLY JOE - Bobbie Gentry
LAURIE (STRANGE THINGS HAPPEN) - Dickey Lee
ACT II - I DIED
SEASONS IN THE SUN - Terry Jacks
TELL LAURA I LOVE HER - Ray Peterson
THE LONG BLACK VEIL - Johnny Cash
ACT III - I KILLED YOU
FRANKIE & JOHNNY - Sam Cooke
WHERE DID YOU SLEEP LAST NIGHT - Leadbelly
TIMOTHY - The Buoys
I CAN NEVER GO HOME ANYMORE - Shangri Las
PRETTY POLLY - Dock Boggs
DIANE - Husker Du
ACT IV - WE'RE DEAD
PATCHES - Dickey Lee
COUNTRY DEATH SONG - Violent Femmes
I WANT MY BABY BACK - Jimmy Cross
RUNNING BEAR - Johnny Preston
EPILOGUE:
Some of these videos are pretty shitty. They are posted expressly for the audio, in most cases. If you want to see some good videos, and hear another awesome mix, check THIS out....
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November 10th, 2008
07:08 pm - Dear Diary:
I got to fill an RX for John Edwards today!!!
Love, Alicia
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October 22nd, 2008
12:28 am - siete dias, so far:
Dead Ringers and "Dandy." Papercuts and Persepolis. Chili Magick, chilly evenings, and Charalambides. Succulents and succor. "This is a pharmacy, not a fast-food restaurant."
tbc
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October 14th, 2008
12:43 am - the ruby, the master's downfall
Sometimes this thing happens on my front porch. It's this thing where sirens from Rosemary Street excite the dogs in the neighboring kennel to near-hysteria, and the dogs' collective wails create haunting false harmonies with the sirens, and all this floats down over the creek to my house at the bottom of the hill.
Our yellow cinder-block bungalow may be the lowest point in Carrboro (excepting the water below the train trestle near Sewell School Road), and sounds often drift down to us, weirdly distorted by the night, the water, and any substances previously consumed. Sitting out late smoking a cigarette, I'm often tapped lightly on the pinnae by UNC's bell tower, a sensation that throws me temporally off balance. For a moment I'm sitting on concrete a mile away, back on the balcony of Parker, wondering when the girls upstairs are going to come bitch at me for blatantly disobeying the smoking ban in the dorms (see also:)
Tonight, the dog-wail-siren symphony swelled along with Popul Vuh and Herzog's breathtaking misty Bavarian landscapes, making me turn from the television screen to look out into the darkness at the end of the world, and I was lost in the cold October night, still and solid amid the unfurling smoke plumes of an extremely long cigarette.
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October 11th, 2008
02:18 am - Anna A. Gurley, CPhT
For the first time today I realized that the trees were changing colors. We went to the movies and saw "Clue," and Red Stripe was the cheapest beer there, and we shared a whiskey bottle between the seats and laughed about Yvette's monstrous tits. We left without viewing the second half of the double feature because David doesn't like vampire movies, and now Stanton is telling me that Alice Cooper became a born-again Christian in the '80s. So much for pathos.
I'm sick but I'm pretending I'm not. I'm racing the greyhounds around the track and stealing any antihistamine nasal spray I can get my hands on. (Unfortunately, that's all been left behind in Durham.) And now I'm somehow reminded of driving through the mountain dark toward Stanton's ancestral home, listening to "Half a Person" and realizing how much Belle & Sebastian owe the Smiths. Meanwhile, my coworkers think I'm weird for not caring about football, and I eagerly await the chance to suffix my name with my newly-garnered title. Maybe one day. Before that day will come many and terrible Days of Rage; never doubt it, my friends (wink).
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August 25th, 2008
12:06 am - Too Many Doors: A Fanciful Tale for the Initial Reader
After four months of full-time lethargy, the IBM (Inimical Bowel Movement) is once again completing tasks and processing those pesky processes, to the extent that I am able to once again discard the world of books (aka the analogue Internet) for the real deal. First order of business: my new tattoo (see below)
It was impractical and expensive, but now at last I have an homage to the finest novel in the English language inscribed on my living flesh...just the way the author would have wanted it. And now back to my endless task of editing other people's trashy manuscripts for publication (spoiler alert: in a few months' time the world will be treated to the first international publication of boytaur fetish fiction (see http://www.boytaur.net/home.html)). Look for it at your local Borders or Barnes 'n' Noble booksellers.
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March 7th, 2008
12:50 am - safety in numbers
What is there to do but get drunk? After all, the Mariachi band played their very best song for us upon request, and we clapped and laughed and spoke poor Spanish, but produced endless dollar bills to stuff into the hole of their guitarron. But over everything I was shivering on my way to and from work, averting my eyes and turning up the volume on the stereo. What is there to do but wonder about such a brutal, random act of violence (if it was random), and scoot closer to the warm body next to you? Even though we act like we aren't scared by it, all of our mothers wondered if it was us, I'm sure of it.
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February 26th, 2008
12:00 am - laundry thoughts
your cheek on mine,
and the divine sensation
of fingers fretting spines
when sleep is creeping close
and the worries of the day
are left behind---
in these I find such tenderness
for you, my love: your cheek
on mine, and sleepy fingers
fretting slumberous spines.
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February 17th, 2008
11:56 pm - a strange fate befalls us all
It is a beautiful night, an unseasonable night, and the warm breeze tugs at my temples and elbows, making me secretly restless. I re-read a book from my childhood, One-Eyed Cat by Paula Fox, and now I am stuck inside my own head, dreaming of small simple childhood pleasures: luna moths, dandelions, wild strawberries, mud. Despite grown-up concerns of laundry, budgets, grocery lists, and another working day, I continue to drift, happily occupied with my memories of being one small person existing quietly within a giant green world.
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