We Don’t Try – Chris Garneau

morning conversations with jesley are an illuminating thing,  sear-worthy, brutal but honest and i am very much thankful for it.  dinner with risse at nobu was fantastic, but the menu online doesn’t give it the recognition it deserves: -

• Salmon Tartare with Caviar
• Shiromi Usuzukiri
• Tuna Tataki with Ponzo
• Black Cod with Miso
• Tenderloin of Beef with Teriyaki Sauce
• Sushi Platter
• Miso
• Chocolate Bento Box

there are many things to say, but i don’t know where to begin; another time perhaps, another time, it is a fairly contemplative time tonight.

Protected: Hands of Time – Groove Armada

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Christmas With Jesus – Josh Rouse

i never knew i had this song, and so it is.

Merry Christmas everyone. (:

The Funeral – Band Of Horses

sadfknsdfnjnfda

isn’t it interesting to see how a random spate of alphabets under qwerty will translate to a word beginning with sad? maybe it’s a freudian expression of sorts, maybe it’s the stirring of the remnants of tea leaves, maybe it’s just me thinking too much into things, as is my wont. but that still doesn’t change anything; everything is still cyclical, and i thought of something vaguely poetic to say while reading in borders but i have forgotten what i wanted to write. i’m not so poetic these days,  i have the memory of a mouse, (that is if mice have short memories), i sense the slow erosion of a soul and i realize that  i am not young anymore, i can’t be as feckless and idealistic as i would want to, because there has been so much pain.

how does one deal with pain, does he ignore it and soldier on, the way he has for 3 years of his life, or does he cut it off and be an amputee? cutting pieces of yourself and leaving it behind, cutting pieces of yourself and leaving it behind, how much will one be left with at the end then.

maybe that’s why i’m so short.

it rained today on the streets of oxford circus and it was salient, transient, beautiful. the streets were full of people, but for some inexplicable reason it was just me, and only me. rain brings everything to a sharp focus, it exacerbates solitude and that isn’t a bad thing at times, though everyone who reads this blog probably think i can deal with less of it, the emoness, the hooeyness.

Pretty In Pink – The National

a pink staccato flicker went across my screen today and that was it, that was the end of l’esprit d’escalier, the asus that was with me for 2.5 years, without a bang, without a whimper, just a complete meltdown of my video card. this is not a eulogy (well, perhaps) but good grief @ the tonnes of uncompleted work that almost died with it.

i do back up, but ladies and gentlemen, back up AT ALL TIMES.

am going to be so broke.

Shadowman – K’s Choice

why cat’s eyes? because i saw a fat cat walking around the inside of a shop window one wintry evening and it possessed a sense of calm and contentedness and state of being which i will almost most certainly never gain.

————–

shadowman is a song which claire sent me one day at two in the morning and it remained my favourite song for the most part of six years. so i play it these days on occasion, reminding myself why i fell in love with it in the first place, and for a brief murmur, i know why.

and then i forget.

and then i force myself to remember again.

——————

shadows are a tangible representation of your existence, they don’t really change much, they remain fairly constant for the most part of your naked lives, but you look back and they constantly haunt you again and again.

yesterday night, a ghost from a past sent an email, but that was all it was, a ghost of the past.

An Eluardian Instance – Of Montreal

Does she know, does she know
That i am not just searching for some first time high?
I know it’s all about perceptions
And i accept you as my very first mover

I remember riding bikes
(i remember riding bikes)
On koster island
Plotting midnight raids
On the swedish plum trees
(that summer)
It was too cold to swim
So we climbed up on the rocky shore
And freaked out on the mountain goats
But they were not impressed or scared of us
Do you remember our last summer as independents?
Do you remember our last summer as independents?
Do you remember our last summer as independents?
Do you remember our last summer as independents?
Do you remember?

I was a foreigner when you appeared
From the shadows at the mono club
I was a hater in the depths of an emotional hibernation
You sat me down
We had some drinks and you told me all kinds of insanity
I asked your friend if you were available
She answered, “no, but yes, oh well, oh well, yes and no”

Now i’m viewing my memory reel in reverse
Scrolling back to come to feel your weather then
Now i’m noting the (?) of our parabola
To predict the points that thou shalt not return

This inbreeding of ideas is intolerable
I wish david was here
Can take your persecution complex
And i’m not going to absorb your stress output anymore
Oh, don’t you pimp out my heart, don’t you pimp out my heart

it’s four in the morning, i’m feverishly awake and work stares at me like multiple cats’ eyes. there is no solace in the solitude and the only thing i can think of are deadlines, accomodations, more deadlines and a sense of listlessness which tears me through nytimes, freedarko and facebook and lsevacations.co.uk.

what is an eluardian instance; is it elusive, is it arcadian, does it happen as a singular event or as a chain? you always ask too many questions pak, even if you know the answer you want to hear.

Loss Leaders – Spoon

it was snowing softly, gently when i woke up this morning and there’s an immaculate sense of peace all around. ever wondered how rain would look like when it falls in slow motion? it’s a bit like a snow globe, except you don’t have to turn it around to reset it.

life at this point, is on a reset button. it is time to stop living in the past, to stop liking the same people as you always have because it’s not fair to them, it’s not fair to you as you drag your cumulative luggage along with you. make a decision, cut off parts, live a new life.

Time to Pretend – MGMT

From Truehoop

You know how Allen Iverson tends to spend a lot of time noodling with the ball on the perimeter, teasing his defender?

Don’t you wonder what’s going through his mind at that time? I think a lot of people suspect he is merely trying to embarrass his opponent with tricks, but I suspect that’s not so. He’s far too competitive, and respectful, to think like that.

I think he’s setting different things up. Working the mind of the defender.

And I just ran across a little video clip from the archives where Iverson talks about doing just that. In this clip about the famous 1997 play where he crossed up Michael Jordan, Iverson describes his first crossover merely as an attempt to see how Jordan would react. Armed with that information, Iverson launches his scoring move.

It has long been an NBA mystery how somebody as tiny as Allen Iverson has been able to score so much against bigger players. Speed is part of it. Having a lot of possessions to play with is another. Shooting ability. But more than anything, it’s about his skillful and careful application of his extraordinary creativity. 

An interesting little sidenote: Iverson started crossing people over at Georgetown. According to Larry Platt’s 2002 book Only the Strong Survive, this is how it happened: 

… at Georgetown, [Iverson] often stayed after practice to play one-on-one against walk-on guard Dean Berry. Berry had known Iverson since the eighth grade, having played against him in AAU tournaments. Now, Iverson was clearly the better player, but one who, in Berry’s estimation, got by on pure talent alone. He was so quick he never had develop moves in order to get to the basket. He could just get there, period. But that would not be the case forever; as the level of competition rose, so, too, did the challenge to invent ways to succeed.

Berry, with his limited skills, had spent years developing his game. A cerebral player, he started studying tapes in the seventh grade of great ball handlers. Over and over again, he’d watch Tim Hardaway’s crossover dribble, commonly referred to as the “UTEP Two-Step.” (Hardaway had gone to UTEP.) He watched Isiah Thomas’s unique version of the same move. He saw John Stockton remove all the bells and whistles and confound opposing guards with it. …

Berry adopted facets of every crossover he studied. … The reason Iverson kept playing Berry after practice was that he couldn’t stop Berry’s crossover — even when he knew it was coming. He’d tell himself not to go for the fake, and he knew he was quicker his teammate — the twelfth man on the team! — but then Berry would drop a cross on him and the next thing you knew, the walk-on was around him. 

“Man,” Iverson finally said, “you gotta show me that s—.”

From then on, Berry taught his superstar teammate his favorite move.