is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
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On How Hans Blix and I May Disagree.
Often I agree with Hans Blix (the cat, not the UN Weapons Inspector, though were I to meet Hans Blix (the UN Weapons Inspector, not the cat) I might find that often I agree with him, too). Hans Blix (TCNTUNWI) and I agree, for instance, that some insects are too large to play with or live peacefully alongside, and simply must be killed. We agree that a good blanket is a warm blanket. We both believe (though I've tried to convince him otherwise) that it is better to drink water out of pint glasses on a table than bowls on the floor. And we agree that some music is better to listen to, and some songs are better for me to sing than others, and some noises are not pleasant.
But we don't agree on everything. For instance, he predicts weather with his fur, and goes slinking off into the bathroom to cram himself behind the toilet whenever there is a lightning storm, whereas I sit in the window and watch it. And for some reason he simply cannot listen to "Baby's On Fire" by Brian Eno. Something about the guitar work in the song drives him batshit crazy and he starts moving his ears around all weirdlike, and then makes a couple of mad dashes back and forth across the room, gives up, and slinks off to curl up in the bedroom.
Perhaps that should make me wonder what the song is doing to me. But since Here Come the Warm Jets is one of my most favoritist albums, I don't wonder, unless by wonder you mean the wondrousness of Brian Eno.
Hans Blix also does not like some of them more moody, long, complex compositions by Talk Talk. That one I can't figure out since, while I can understand (while not agreeing with the assessment) why an impatient human might find them ponderous or tiresome, how they might boggle or otherwise trouble the ear is beyond me.
It can't possibly be that Hans Blix doesn't like the singular voice of Mark Hollis.
Maybe it has something to do with having a walnut-sized brain while also being asked to listen to something really complex? Perhaps Josh can help me with this when I meet him for brunch today, as he is both a musician and a newly minted catperson. He keeps telling me that he is going to have me over for dinner, but now that I've lived in Philly for almost two years and it has never happened I've decided that he must be ashamed of me, or he's hiding something awesome and wondrous in his apartment. Really, what else could it be!? So, when he called me to tell me about the new cat, I told him I could no longer wait, that I was going to come to his house, stand outside his door and yell embarrassing things until he let me in. He wanted to know what might embarrass him. So I told him I was going to stand there and pound on the door and yell, "Let me in! I need to see your pussy!". Hans Blix agreed with me that that would be hilarious.
10:16 a.m. - March 11, 2007
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