iLive, iLove, iPod
This is negative space, this blog.
I find writing it much more interesting – and that’s a very bland word, but it’s applicable – when it’s bilious, accusatory, and revealing, not fluffy and supportive.
But, to tie together a loose end from pre-Christmas…I have an iPod.
And it’s beautiful.
And incidentally, I bought it at the Apple Store in SoHo, with Jason, and we saw hilariously au-naturale Ashlee Simpson’s older sister in there. No, Jessica doesn’t look as dumb in person. And she’s too skinny.
Back to another piece of work – my iPo–
Hey Dan, didn’t it cost a lot of money that you could have apportioned for rent, instead of replacing the CDs and portable CD player (cost: $19 @ Target), all of which you already own?
Real purty–
And what about walking around New York City? First, didn’t you rail against those people who wear the iBuds in public, and fuck with their iPods not because they’re actually looking for something in the intuitive-designed machine, but rather want to make you, the have-not, feel bad about your incomplete self?
Ye–
Moreover, what about navigating the street? You didn’t fear for your life before, but now you’re a thin, weak-looking, fairly well-dressed young man, the kind homeless people profile (they do, and you know it), and you have an obviously expensive piece of audio equipment ready for swiping. What about that?
You just touch the wheel and it mov–
And the further deconstruction of the album as art form? Many albums include medleys, or at least songs that run together, to make it more, y’know, like an opera than a fragmented sample of modernity. Check out Abbey Road, Queen II, A Night at the Opera, The Golden Hum, and yes, American Idiot. And that’s not to mention the intrinsic ordering of songs (which DOES matter, a la High Fidelity). Albums are no accident.
And it locks so ever–
And how do you walk around with it? Do you hide it all the time, ducking into phone booths to change the album, and to prove your meaningless point? Or do passersby see it, and judge you a part of the problem? Wha–
But it’s so useful! It packs into one place many, many CDs, and it sounds great, and you can burn CDs from it, and you can put it on random and listen to strange juxtapositions of your favorite songs, and you can play a version of “Name That Tune,” and you can enjoy music stream-of-consciousnessly which, perhaps, is closer to truth that your fabricated, portioned albums and mix tapes ever were.
Bu–
And it’s cool. And nice, and shiny, and it makes me happy and I like it. And that’s enough.
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