This is wild! Over 120 animators got together to reanimate the Freaky Fred episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog using the original audio. Besides being beyond flattering, this is an amazing work. Each shot has a different animator and the effect is trippy and stunning. Please click the link below and behold…
We were acquainted.
Briefly.
He liked to smile, I think.
He proffered a guitar
like it was a new toy:
“Have a go?”
I didn’t.
(Should have practiced
those fucking scales.)
So we went out
for Vietnamese
and smiles.
Fascination moves
pretty things
if we can sparkle.
He liked to smile,
I think,
like it was a new toy.
photo credit unknown
She was my first best friend
She was my first best
She was my first
She was my
She was
She
Sh.
Street lamp illuming
Tree into trance;
In madness, at midnight,
Frozen in dance.
To celebrate the rhyme
And reason for this day
I’ve chosen just these words
And thrown the rest away
Look to the heavens without circumspection;
Imagine that you can see your reflection.
Then carry as scripture this immodest image
From scrimmage to scrimmage to scrimmage to scrimmage.
I live in Brooklyn Heights, just across the river from where the towers stood. This lyric is the first thing I could write after that day. It speaks obliquely to my visceral experience, which remains somewhere beneath and beyond cognition, aching for the soft light of all available beauty. Jody Gray wrote the haunting music and produced this demo, exquisitely sung by Laura Berman.
“Something Beautiful” was later covered by Bobbie Eakes, the title track on her 2005 album, alongside songs by Paul McCartney, Van Morrison and others.
Somewhere in the cartons in the corner of the attic
Somewhere in the dust and the debris
In the interference, silent in the static
There must be something beautiful
Must be something beautiful
There must be something beautiful
To see
Sometime in the wasted days of discontent and fear
Straining under too much gravity
Waiting for a single ray of sunlight to appear
There must be something beautiful
Must be something beautiful
There must be something beautiful
To be
Look out the window, listen at the door
Is no one coming ‘round, coming ‘round no more?
Check the telephone, turn on the radio
What was it that someone said not that long ago?
Look out the window, listen at the door
Try to remember what you’re listening for
Check inside the pockets of what you used to wear
Find something, find something you forgot was there
Somehow in the billions of signals in the sky
As they paint their tangled filigree
A cry of pain passes through a mother’s lullaby
There must be something beautiful
Must be something beautiful
There must be something beautiful
Set free
OR: IF DOROTHY PARKER HAD WRITTEN FOR HALLMARK
Logic of the bio kind,
A pheromonal torrent,
First summoned our surrender
To nature’s wanton warrant.
Deeper, deeper, deeper, down
We fell into our thrall.
But love? I love you now as then…
Hardly, if at all.
Look into empty.
Don’t look away
Until you say AH.
And you understand
You can spell empty
With AH.
And that’s empathy.
‘Til we met last Decem
I was lonely alone,
Ginned in discrete desolation.
Since you left this A.M.,
I am only alone.
…Begin indiscreet celebration!
Wandering Mined 