sing us your favorite tune

awesome post.

i love this song!!!!! when i was 7, i had this song on a 45 and played it on my fisher price plastic record player. my cousin and i would dance our patented “crazy on you” dance (which involved lots of arm swinging and hair shaking). great post…takes me back <sigh>

also, a unicorn dispensing sex magic with its eyes is a totally disturbing thought, but one which gave me an unrepressable and weird shiver.

Wow Katy, nice one. I love this song. I have a soft spot for Cedar Point. And my goodness do I love unicorns.

But I think it might be more complicated. Possibly in two ways. Or maybe three. See, I’m not entirely sure whom my true self is, and I think that writing about music, playing music, starting projects, etc, are often, for me, acts of discovery, hoping I might uncover that elusive core (that, in part, I don’t even believe exists). And all that work, which I sure hope is making me seem hip, is somehow a little, futile gesture toward ‘saving the world’. But I think, selfishly, that when I’m trying to save the world, I’m actually trying to make this sad cruel marble more hospitable—a place where my beinghood might be expressed without risk of being hewn to poem-shards and dream-splints.

I don’t feel crummy that I want a true wild love to call home, as well as a broader world, safe and grace-filled, to make that in. I’m often disappointed, in myself, in that world, but them the costs of driving a unicorns fueled tractor of petty hopeless dreams.

ps — anybody got tips on usage of who/whom in that seventh sentence?

Wow, the true self of Joshua sure is emo!

josh: ‘who’ is correct in that sentence

girl, you my hero. I just snort laughed out loud in public when I read “stomachs that look like packs of frozen hot dogs.”

this is genius

Oh Joshua, whom is you? I actually think that we do have true selves. It’s the basis of my entire personal and professional life thus far, so let’s not fuck with it, okay? However, you create a nice gap, heretofore unthought of by my teeny brain, of the production possible between having a self/knowing a self. Nice job, wordy pants.
Unmentioned in the post is my theory that my sister and I might actually be Heart, somehow. And studies show that listening to Heart in your formative years is the number one way to become awesome. Any pregnant ladies out there? Get Anika to teach you the Crazy on You dance.

If you ever bring up Heart with my uncle, he will get a dreamy smile on his face and talk about the time he passed Nancy Wilson in a hallway and their eyes met for just a second, and she totally was feelin it too. Almost forty years later and his heart still flutters. She’s the one dispensing sex magic.

In other words, feeling is formed by the deeds that one does; therefore I cannot consult it as a guide to action. And that is to say that I can neither seek within myself for an authentic impulse to action, nor can I expect, from some ethic, formulae that will enable me to act.

I just have to add this, from salon.com:

Heart’s Ann and Nancy Wilson have released a statement saying they’re pissed about the use of their song “Barracuda” to introduce Palin (who was “Sarah Barracuda” long before she became a pit bull in lipstick) at the convention, despite their repeated requests that the GOP knock it off. So pissed they had to resort to all caps: “Sarah Palin’s views and values in NO WAY represent us as American women.” The Wilsons also point out that the song was written “as a scathing rant against the soulless, corporate nature of the music business, particularly for women,” so “there’s irony in Republican strategists’ choice to make use of it there.” To say the least.