I am the grit in the gears, the missing bolt, I am the poker of sticks into spokes. I like to know how things work, but sometimes when I take them apart and rebuild them, I have a few pieces left over. I am a man, so I tend to leave reading the instructions until after it goes wrong. And like all men I have a comprehensive mental map of the world and never need to ask directions. I never get lost, only sometimes I'm late, or end up in the wrong place entirely. It's what we do.
Friday, 19 September 2008
Deltahead
Deltahead, by the way, hail not from some swampy bayou. They inhabit an altogether frostier gumbo, um
Sweden.. Well Sverige has quite a lot of swampy stuff. And moskeeters like alien death-swarms... and elk flies that take a really big bite out of thinskin human-hides. No gaters though. Not that I've ever seen anyway.
Via Ectoplasmosis , via somebody's (-Aaron's Myspace site.
I'm sorry, Aaron, whoever you might be, I did not look at your Myspace for more than about five seconds. It's not you, I just hate Myspace pages with a vengeance. I think I'm too old for them or something.
Everything about them, to me, is just plain nasty, the layout, the format, the tendency toward autoplay music... Don't get me started on Facebook, either. )
But I liked this track...
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