Random #2

 

Zoo Lake Public Bath, a glorious place to work

More of the same. I woke up early, 6am, to go to a meeting that was only scheduled for next week. I swore at a taxi just as someone exited, a waiter at a coffee shop I sometimes go to. The server is down. I had to write a "bright young thing" profile, not as an afterthought but as a serious and attentive consideration of career about to take shape. In the background, a jackhammer. Renovations next door.
And so on.

Driving to the office, for a second time, Big Black started playing. A song from 1987, I think, although I only heard about them a year later, in a park in Garsfontein, via Mark Pretorius who had a copy of their Racer X EP. The song this morning was from Songs About Fucking. I've always loved, advisedly, Steve Albini's trenchant humour and abrasive manner. He was a journalist, so the story goes. Perhaps that's why he wrote:

"... He's a whore - I'll do anything for money
He's a whore - With the things you like to eat
He's a whore - Well, the stories I could tell
He's a whore - And I'm a moron as well
I'm a whore - He'll do anything for money
I'm a whore - Because he goes anywhere
I'm a whore - He'll do anything for money..."

I listened to it twice on the way to work.

Funny. At some point you realise, I am what I listen to. On which, Beck, from Stereopathetic Soulmanure, bought the year it came out, 1994:

"... Today has been a fucked-up day
Today has been a fucked-up day
Today has been a fucked-up day
Looks like tomorrow'll be the same old day..."

As a postscript: I'm not sure this entry contains much factual accuracy, but for the the authenticity of the song lyrics.

Servers going. Back to work.