A Cold and Broken Hallelujah

Just as an unexpected surprise, I'm writing about Jeff Buckley today, this being the tenth anniversary of his death.

If I were a genius or at least more talented than I am, I would pay him the poetic tribute that he deserves. But I'm not, so I'm just going to tell you that I like--nope--love his music. His lyrics are poetry and his music is perfection.

If you don't know who I'm talking about, shame. Shame on you. Go get whatever albums you can get your hands on and listen to it all day long.

May this demi-god rest in peace.

Yes, the irony has struck me that this was written by a young, idealist moron

I was looking in my black book of wonders for things to post on my blog. I dug up this little number. Enjoy:

You know what's not fair? Ageing. Aging? I looked it up; both are correct. Ageing looks right in handwriting, while Aging looks right in type. Weird.

Your young, vital, relatively attractive years are wasted on half-formed minds and poverty. Then, when you're experienced and sage and above all, rich, you're still the same person except you're not--you're and old person now. So you no longer count. You're discounted, swept off the stage to clear the way for "the future," the young, idealist morons who think they know. They think they know everything you've had to suffer and hurt and struggle to know. And they're wrong. They don't know. They don't know at all. And these are the people were modeling our society after? They set our trends, dominate our media, run our every institution? Whose idea was this?

People should be born with an old body, and get younger as a reward for their lives. Everyone should die at twenty.

cool

i like how some of you guys actually did that

Sending Out an S.O.S.

Hellllp.

The time has come--I have to trick some people into thinking that I'm a good writer.
Everyone pick your favorite blog and tell me which one it is. The only thing is, I have to have written it. Ok. Go.

Seriously, read ALL of my blogs and tell me which you like.