Just realized the fifth anniversary of this weblog was two days ago. *cheers, fireworks, etc* Here was my first post; feels like I wrote it yesterday. The site design hasn't changed in all this time so nothing looks any different (except the initial capitals in my logon). As always, thanks to Jim Bassett for the excellent software that continues to run glitch- and spam-free, and to the Digital Media Tree community of bloggers who are keeping the spirit of '99 alive while blogging has run through several hype cycles.
Was just reading a (non-Tree) blogger's lament that his page didn't rate an Armory Show press pass. (The Armory is the big art fair that New York galleries have for people so decrepit they can't see art if it requires walking more than a block. You know, bladders and colostomy bags fill up and there's only so much you can do in a day.) That blogger's bellyachin' is a sign, I suppose, that the medium is maturing--that people are even talking about that kind of stuff. The story had a happy ending--his online moaning embarrassed the Armory gatekeepers into issuing the all important pass.
Tom, Happy five...
I'm always looking through. Thank's for providing a great edged window with just the right word count that keeps it cool.
Thanks, Brent.
yes, congratulations Tom!
Get's better all the time.
cngrats on 5 years, thanks for letting us read...
W
Pushing thru the market square, so many mothers sighing
News had just come over, we had five years left to cry in
News guy wept and told us, earth was really dying
Cried so much his face was wet, then I knew he was not lying
I heard telephones, opera house, favourite melodies
I saw boys, toys electric irons and t.v.’s
My brain hurt like a warehouse, it had no room to spare
I had to cram so many things to store everything in there
And all the fat-skinny people, and all the tall-short people
And all the nobody people, and all the somebody people
I never thought I’d need so many people
A girl my age went off her head, hit some tiny children
If the black hadn’t a-pulled her off, I think she would have killed them
A soldier with a broken arm, fixed his stare to the wheels of a cadillac
A cop knelt and kissed the feet of a priest, and a queer threw up at the sight of that
I think I saw you in an ice-cream parlour, drinking milk shakes cold and long
Smiling and waving and looking so fine, don’t think
You knew you were in this song
And it was cold and it rained so I felt like an actor
And I thought of ma and I wanted to get back there
Your face, your race, the way that you talk
I kiss you, you’re beautiful, I want you to walk
We’ve got five years, stuck on my eyes
Five years, what a surprise
We’ve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, that’s all we’ve got
We’ve got five years, what a surprise
Five years, stuck on my eyes
We’ve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, that’s all we’ve got
We’ve got five years, stuck on my eyes
Five years, what a surprise
We’ve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, that’s all we’ve got
We’ve got five years, what a surprise
We’ve got five years, stuck on my eyes
We’ve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, that’s all we’ve got
Five years
Five years
Five years
Five years
|
Just realized the fifth anniversary of this weblog was two days ago. *cheers, fireworks, etc* Here was my first post; feels like I wrote it yesterday. The site design hasn't changed in all this time so nothing looks any different (except the initial capitals in my logon). As always, thanks to Jim Bassett for the excellent software that continues to run glitch- and spam-free, and to the Digital Media Tree community of bloggers who are keeping the spirit of '99 alive while blogging has run through several hype cycles.
Was just reading a (non-Tree) blogger's lament that his page didn't rate an Armory Show press pass. (The Armory is the big art fair that New York galleries have for people so decrepit they can't see art if it requires walking more than a block. You know, bladders and colostomy bags fill up and there's only so much you can do in a day.) That blogger's bellyachin' is a sign, I suppose, that the medium is maturing--that people are even talking about that kind of stuff. The story had a happy ending--his online moaning embarrassed the Armory gatekeepers into issuing the all important pass.
- tom moody 2-24-2006 10:21 pm
Tom, Happy five...
I'm always looking through. Thank's for providing a great edged window with just the right word count that keeps it cool.
- brenthallard (guest) 2-25-2006 2:16 pm
Thanks, Brent.
- tom moody 2-25-2006 7:41 pm
yes, congratulations Tom!
- Thor Johnson (guest) 2-27-2006 2:07 am
Get's better all the time.
- mark 2-27-2006 2:15 am
cngrats on 5 years, thanks for letting us read...
W
- wwc 2-27-2006 6:26 pm
Pushing thru the market square, so many mothers sighing
News had just come over, we had five years left to cry in
News guy wept and told us, earth was really dying
Cried so much his face was wet, then I knew he was not lying
I heard telephones, opera house, favourite melodies
I saw boys, toys electric irons and t.v.’s
My brain hurt like a warehouse, it had no room to spare
I had to cram so many things to store everything in there
And all the fat-skinny people, and all the tall-short people
And all the nobody people, and all the somebody people
I never thought I’d need so many people
A girl my age went off her head, hit some tiny children
If the black hadn’t a-pulled her off, I think she would have killed them
A soldier with a broken arm, fixed his stare to the wheels of a cadillac
A cop knelt and kissed the feet of a priest, and a queer threw up at the sight of that
I think I saw you in an ice-cream parlour, drinking milk shakes cold and long
Smiling and waving and looking so fine, don’t think
You knew you were in this song
And it was cold and it rained so I felt like an actor
And I thought of ma and I wanted to get back there
Your face, your race, the way that you talk
I kiss you, you’re beautiful, I want you to walk
We’ve got five years, stuck on my eyes
Five years, what a surprise
We’ve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, that’s all we’ve got
We’ve got five years, what a surprise
Five years, stuck on my eyes
We’ve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, that’s all we’ve got
We’ve got five years, stuck on my eyes
Five years, what a surprise
We’ve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, that’s all we’ve got
We’ve got five years, what a surprise
We’ve got five years, stuck on my eyes
We’ve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, that’s all we’ve got
Five years
Five years
Five years
Five years
- bill 2-27-2006 6:51 pm