Things I Have Enjoyed as a Sickie

I didn't really feel this sickness coming. I thought that I was just tired and groggy, maybe a little bored. So I went and watched A Simple Plan (not that horrible Hot Topic band, this is a movie that features two important Bills: Bill Paxton and Billy Bob Thornton) and it made me so nervous that I had to rush home and puke as soon as it was over. At first I kind of wanted to believe that a movie had made me throw up, but this turned out not to be true, as the sickness has lasted well past the jitters induced by this movie in which greed screws up the lives of a bunch of ordinary people. If you haven't seen this one, you should, it will have you pounding your forehead for the duration.

So after a long night of vomitosity and fever-induced crazy philosophizing (for example, I got on this thing in my head about how most Legos have gender, or at least male and female sides to them, the fever-high seemingly took my brain to places it had never ever been before) I woke up, thought that I felt better (after all, I wasn't puking, right?) and then went to church, where Richard Hardy gave me a sweet red Kangol hat.



I was glad I went, because this picture speaks approximately one bajillion words. Had this not happened, I can't even imagine what my life would be like today.

Everything was pretty ok on Sunday, but when I woke up the next morning it felt like someone had hidden their phlegm collection in my chest. Yikes! Soreness and general grossness has persisted, but when the going gets tough, I revert to my natural health instinct: eat (more) saltines and watch a lot of TV.

In the daytimes it has been a mostly solitary affair, trying to avoid the daytime TV scene as long as possible by using the internet, sleeping more, or whatever else I am able to pull off. On Monday sencillo amigo Torlando Hakes came over and we watched a little bit of MTV's worst show ever, Next (actually, it's a 3-way tie between Next, Parental Control, and Date My Mom), and then decided that it was time to step it up and watch something that heals the soul: Oprah and then Ellen Degeneres. Although they were both kind of mind warping, I kind of understood the appeal, as if to say that if your circumstances allow you to watch these shows at that time of day, perhaps your mind should be warped. I mean, it's interesting to think about how much power Oprah wields. In a way it's a good thing, because although she might be kind of annoying, it seems like she is trying to do good things. Same with Ellen. I guess I just wish that people would seek out other sources of good causes in their lives. They're out there, and the TV doesn't have to tell you.

By the time evening rolled around, I was able to convince a few brave people to come hang out with me, and by "hang out," I of course really mean "watch TV" with me.

Anyway, here's a brief rundown of what has been covered this week so far:

Eraserhead: I had never actually seen this movie. People who are into "film," please roll your eyes now. Now I have seen it. I now see how so many other art movies take a lot from this style of filmmaking.

No Country for Old Men: Holy crap! There are quite a few twists to this one. I have never thought that a killer in a movie was so damn cool. He was a man of principle, you do have to give him that.

Sons of Provo: This one always seems to get people's attention when they see it in our DVD collection. I will happily oblige and watch it again and again if people really think this is a movie that they would enjoy watching. The premise of the movie packs a theoretically powerful punch: A mockumentary about a fictional Mormon boy band. I don't know, non-Mormons keep wanting to watch this. It's weird.

I've also heard some good albums in my sickness:

I know it's like a given in this day and age, but I'm going to go ahead and say it. After not having listened to Neutral Milk Hotel's In The Aeroplane Over The Sea for about seven years, listening to it again literally brought a tear to my eye. I had been thinking about it lately, because I started giving David Orr guitar lessons and when I mentioned that the songs from that record are played with mostly basic chords, he said that was great because he actually envisioned himself with a guitar singing those songs to his theoretical children when he thought about learning to play the guitar. Enough ink has been spilled about this record, I don't really have anything new to say, except that it still feels like this cosmically abstract spiritual journey to listen to that record. What's the worst thing about this album? The very obvious fact that it inspired The Decemberists. Eww. Eww.

Then there's Elephant Eyelash by Why? Two songs in particular are just so lyrically vivid and heartbreaking. The first is "Gemini (Birthday Song)." It's so unabashedly vulnerable and sexual and sad. I can't find the lyrics online, but I highly recommend you seek out this song. Not that you really need to know exactly what he's talking about, but it's just such a cool song with a good, sad vibe. The other song is "Light Leaves," the last song from the same album. Both of these songs exhibit the same sort of heartbreaking journey between relationships, death, sex, and the struggle to find life again. I never thought that an hip-hop/indie rock song with throat singing would win me over, but this one has certainly passed the test, as it is so weirdly yet comfortingly sad. It's interesting to see someone with a background in abstract hip-hop doing melodic songs, because the words do seemingly carry a greater weight, but the music also moves more than sufficiently. These are interesting songs that feel both heavy and picturesque. I think I get it now. It's weird, because this record motivates me to finally get my own record done and out in the air, instead of just on my hard drive and in my head. This makes me confident that people can really feel music as an experience. So, cool for that.

I hope to be back in full force by tomorrow. Look out! Thanks to everyone for keeping me company.

p.s. Prayer Breakfast Myspaced. Check out some tunes.