ADDED: The "puns" tag is for something Meade says. I make a remark that presumes familiarity with a song that I'm just going to make sure everyone is familiar with:
२५ फेब्रुवारी, २०२१
The snowhead.
याची सदस्यत्व घ्या:
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२६ टिप्पण्या:
Reminds me of Calvin and Hobbes.
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/719450109210690874/
I'm glad he's melting. That shit was nightmare fuel.
Frosty the snowman
Has a very jolly soul
Who creeps into your house and night
And watches while you sleep
Look at Frosty go (away)!
Very crunchy!
Co-cane? Very good.
Ice fisherwomen? Have there ever been any?
Even if there have been, that is a kind of generic word even with 'man' in it.
Kind of like 'Longshoreman.' Longshorewoman does not roll off the tongue (not that many women are doing that kind of work)...
If cold has a sound it's the sharp crackling under foot you can hear.
Perhaps by midday that'll be replaced by a muted smoosh, portending the arrival of spring.
At first I thought the snowman would say "Helooooo!" but I guess that is the former below the waist section, not the former mid-section.
But where are the snowheads of yesteryear?
The snowhead sings the song it always sings
And speaks to me of flowers that will bloom again in spring.
Very strange. I feel a deep nostalgia, painful but sweet, listening to that song. It takes me back to a time when the world worked for me. But I have no idea what part of my life that would be. The 20th century, maybe? When was that song new? I must have been new then as well.
Althouse I think you said it, not Meade.
Blue album is just soooo good.
"Althouse I think you said it, not Meade."
Meade makes the "co-cane" joke and then I repeat it.
@Jupiter
"Carey" is one of the songs on the 1971 album "Blue," perhaps the greatest album ever recorded.
On Rolling Stone's most recent greatest albums list, it ranks #3 (after Marvin Gaye, "What's Going On" and The Beach Boys, "Pet Sounds").
I was thinking of that Calvin and Hobbes panel just the other day when Althouse posted the first snowman pic. The rest of the Calvin and Hobbes panels on snowmen are some of the best ones, too. I always looked forward to seeing them.
"Carey" is one of the songs on the 1971 album "Blue,"
Oh, dear. That long ago? It's probably wrapped around some lost memories, of being in love with some sweet girl whose name and beautiful face I think of maybe twice in a decade. I feel like a mean old Daddy.
In fact, if it was 1971, then she's dead now. Ten years gone.
Not a great live singer going off of that.
She had a conspicuous overbite but made it work : )
Althouse
Agree about the Blue album.
---In fact, if it was 1971, then she's dead now. Ten years gone.
Ouch. That is a sad statement!
I'm curious about the Althouse choice of Carey from a 1983 performance. Joni is losing her voice and really struggling with the upper registers of her old range. She has already made changes to accommodate her new limits. I went to video from a couple more 1983 performances, though it is hard to listen to that voice struggle. Some performances were almost normal. But several showed the deterioration. Seems so early; those cigarettes and maybe she sang too many times and without enough vocal protection.
The street II.
Now and then a curtain flits and a stare
At second or third floor windows opposite,
Half inquisitive of hotel happenings,
Half irritated by mock grandeur,
Brute noise this particular Victorian,
Part empty site displays. It’s the habit
Of some drawn up to face, across the nightly peace
Of no mans land, the street, dull combatants
On each side: Perhaps poverty separates you
From the pub downstairs, a certain angst
About the pull of popular haunts,
Getting more than your fair share of inarticulate friends.
A chance modern law decides
Dividing speech and the neighbourhood,
Forming false battles, situating
Between you and it a televisual screen,
Your thought on some Heaven
Where face to face we met,
Your eyes on some dark glass of a window.
You’re seen, the curtains drawn.
It’s something to be remarked upon,
Odd how every night it is done
Not only by you but repeated
Down the street, each side a sentinel,
If not throwing sticks in a fire, then
Looking out to see who’s watching who,
Catching the nightly skirmishes that,
With not uncommon frequency, continue
To punctuate a phoney war. Now and then
That irregular exchange of cigarettes
Or your side strikes the light, mine offers the fag.
Usually, though, askers are causalities
Rejected by us both, mostly ignored,
Often sleeping somewhere out of sight,
Under a bridge or whatever bomb shelter
Accident has devised, they roll in slumber
Tight into a plastic bag or the damp,
Soggy cardboard once used to wrap our guns,
Tanks, communications, surveillance units.
It is to be remarked upon how little
I see of you, how quickly you disappear,
How suspicious of you and I this neutral,
Unneutral status makes us: Together
Manufactured means of war – now we test them out.
But I’m bored of killing, it’s become such a
Common exercise – I wish you’d sign a truce.
Speaking of snow head:
Facebook watchdogs beg Canadian town: Stop building sexy snowmen!
Scroll down for the picture!
'Lewis, ten dárek a přání k vánocům byly upřimné, prostě od srdce, vážím si toho.'
'Lewis, the gift and Christmas wishes were sincere, just from the heart, I appreciate it.'
'The gifts and Christmas wishes, because of your heart, I know you.'
Kai Acker, no one is losing their 'voice', they are gaining it!
Otherwise, what would be the point?
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