Saturday, June 04, 2005
um...wow. i can't believe the word "blowhard" made it into a nytimes review:
"Coldplay's countless fans seem to take comfort when Mr. Martin sings lines like, "Is there anybody out there who / Is lost and hurt and lonely too," while a strummed acoustic guitar telegraphs his aching sincerity. Me, I hear a passive-aggressive blowhard, immoderately proud as he flaunts humility."
"Coldplay's countless fans seem to take comfort when Mr. Martin sings lines like, "Is there anybody out there who / Is lost and hurt and lonely too," while a strummed acoustic guitar telegraphs his aching sincerity. Me, I hear a passive-aggressive blowhard, immoderately proud as he flaunts humility."
i bought a "value pack" (three for the price of two!) of my favorite pencils a few months ago, maybe to celebrate the new year. they're the kind with the rubbery grip and the clicker thing embedded in the side, and replaceable erasers at the top, and they cost way more than any pencil has any right to. i never know whether to feel guilty or ripped off for buying $2 pencils. but glee usually wins out.
so i managed to hang on to all three of them, including the extra special bright blue one for two whole months. but then all three disappeared in rapid succession sometime in april, and my life hasn't been the same since. my diagrams lack depth, countenance, finesse; where are my shades of gray? i can never feel quite as lighthearted with a pen, it's like playing without save-state, high up with no safety net. there's no reassuring frictive feedback from the page, no satisfying advance of the lead (that click!) to mark a page well scribed. worst of all, there's no reassuring little prickle when i reach into my bag without looking and the pointy point digs playfully into my hand.
oh my dears. how i wish you would come back to me. ::sniff::
so i managed to hang on to all three of them, including the extra special bright blue one for two whole months. but then all three disappeared in rapid succession sometime in april, and my life hasn't been the same since. my diagrams lack depth, countenance, finesse; where are my shades of gray? i can never feel quite as lighthearted with a pen, it's like playing without save-state, high up with no safety net. there's no reassuring frictive feedback from the page, no satisfying advance of the lead (that click!) to mark a page well scribed. worst of all, there's no reassuring little prickle when i reach into my bag without looking and the pointy point digs playfully into my hand.
oh my dears. how i wish you would come back to me. ::sniff::
