“...I feel it very well, but I don't know how to express it...I only have at my disposal poor words completely worn out from having served everyone and everything...”-Nathalie Sarraute
I'm going to have to read the Rather Ripped Records article from for to aft. "My" record store too! From when I would borrow my frosh roommates' Mustang (he had an 8-track player in it) and drive there on a wing and a prayer from Stanford for a shopping spree; to Russ becoming a big supporter of my music. (The Ophelias played an instore at RRR after it had moved to the Oakland location in 1988. see YouTube video of "Turn Into A Berry".) Saw the Jars play out front from the back of a flatbed pickup truck. Met Peter Hammilll there, and so may artists on vinyl due to the instore stereo and the clerk expertise! And bought a fabulous Gentle Giant bootleg, hahaha! I've still got my Membership ID card, and a pristine unused bumpersticker saying "I'd Rather Be Ripped (at Rather Ripped Records)".
" However, the producer Arnold Maxin "brought in ribs and chicken and got everybody drunk, and we came out with this weird version ... I don't even remember making the record. " - second instance today of experientially accurate depiction of life and psychoactives. This line is wondrous!
The poem also came at an opportune time- I have, since the last 3~days, been chewing on the idea that sensations and body states and to a large extent, evven the language we use ("i'm drained"; "this is boring"; "i'm tired") are vague markers, ambiguously pointing towards deeper sensations that, because we live entirely in a world of language, slips us by, life the first snowflake 'fore a blizzard.
The need for non-linguistic methods of experience... I guess this poem came as a sly auspice.
I'm going to have to read the Rather Ripped Records article from for to aft. "My" record store too! From when I would borrow my frosh roommates' Mustang (he had an 8-track player in it) and drive there on a wing and a prayer from Stanford for a shopping spree; to Russ becoming a big supporter of my music. (The Ophelias played an instore at RRR after it had moved to the Oakland location in 1988. see YouTube video of "Turn Into A Berry".) Saw the Jars play out front from the back of a flatbed pickup truck. Met Peter Hammilll there, and so may artists on vinyl due to the instore stereo and the clerk expertise! And bought a fabulous Gentle Giant bootleg, hahaha! I've still got my Membership ID card, and a pristine unused bumpersticker saying "I'd Rather Be Ripped (at Rather Ripped Records)".
" However, the producer Arnold Maxin "brought in ribs and chicken and got everybody drunk, and we came out with this weird version ... I don't even remember making the record. " - second instance today of experientially accurate depiction of life and psychoactives. This line is wondrous!
The poem also came at an opportune time- I have, since the last 3~days, been chewing on the idea that sensations and body states and to a large extent, evven the language we use ("i'm drained"; "this is boring"; "i'm tired") are vague markers, ambiguously pointing towards deeper sensations that, because we live entirely in a world of language, slips us by, life the first snowflake 'fore a blizzard.
The need for non-linguistic methods of experience... I guess this poem came as a sly auspice.