ce que j’ai vu de mieux aujourd’hui
{retour au boulot}
je pensais que ce serait la musique de ce groupe, les ultratumbados
ce que j’ai vu de mieux aujourd’hui
{retour au boulot}
je pensais que ce serait la musique de ce groupe, les ultratumbados
ça, est très intéressant
et m’avais, partiellement, échappé
deviens collectionneur
ce que je trouve ridicule
aussi j’ai commencé
cette page
pour mémoire
car aujourd’hui je ne me souvenais plus du nom de cette fille!
ouais, salut
je suis en vacances, je lis ça dans un
autre pays
ici il n’y a pas de platine
je devrais peut etre acheter des CDs mais j’achète des série noire
etc.
ah, oui, j’ai quand même trouvé ce disque
vous pouvez lire ça le policier n’est pas mort
le type est en prison
il y aura une nouvelle loi
contre ceci
contre cela
moi, je revendique mon droit à avancer masqué dans CET espace public et TOUS les espaces publics de la dictature capitaliste
c’est moi qui ait mal lu
étrange comme je me complais à lire le figaro
il m’est impossible de lire télérama, impossible
bon, là j’écoute la compile flottante tension d’éclipse
publiée pour les 10 ans du label sdz, je viens de tenter de ranger mon bureau et ça a dégénéré parce que j. a voulu faire de la musique alors j’ai déblayé l’espace musique, disons l’espace instruments
par erreur j’ai mis la face B d’abord, vous savez parfois je me demande quels sont les gouts de nicolas alors que peut être c’est lui, d’entre nous, qui exprime ça le plus clairement et moi, pareil, on n’en sait rien
ce qui m’a surpris la première fois que j’ai écouté cette compile c’est la cohésion de l’ensemble
donc il y a des groupes qui sont déjà sortis sur ce label et d’autres non, d’autres sur d’autres labels, d’autres pourquoi pas du tout, pour moi le meilleur morceau de la face B c’est le RMI de pierre et bastien mais tout ça se tient très fort
non, ça ne m’a pas fait plaisir de voir patti smith dans le film de godard, ça non
le reste plutôt oui
je dis ça parce que je dois faire à manger
des restes
face A, plus tard
non, pas d’image non
ras le bol de toutes ces images
j’écris en cachette, au travail – à 28 ans, je découvre la satisfaction de la vie active –
je gagne de l’argent, j’ai un job socialement valorisant – et j’ai l’impression d’être sous perfusion de haine et d’angoisse 8 heures par jour –
en replongeant dans mes mp3s pour des raisons qu’on pourrait qualifier de festives, j’arrive à ne garder que bone awl, ildjarn et evilfeast – j’ai failli ajouter du akitsa et puis je me suis rendu compte de l’absurde de la situation –
une image :
+++
par ailleurs,
je crois que je ne connais aucun « tube » garage –
exemple
critique de r*ck
je lis cette nouvelle, là et hop, j’écoute ce disque ok, il manque un E et un T et il y a la bande de couleurs, c’est normal
{à noter que je n’ai pas de disque de santana}
à noter que rien ne me fera détester exile on main street
pendant ce temps je télécharge quelques films avec goldie hawn il manque le E
ou de peter bogdanovich
{mon age me rattrape t’il ?}
et je viens de tomber sur un super blog de technique!
il est bien ce disque d’elvis costello
je fais du libération
désolé, tiens au fait bertrand j’ai downloadé un concert de procol harum avec un orchestre symphonique, bon je ne sais pas comme c’est, c’est dommage on a pas eu trop le temps de parler de ton nouveau paletot, ni rien
oui on était au concert des subtle turnhips, il y avait en première partie les jeunes pierre et bastien qui s’appellent autrement et qui brillent par leurs paroles contemporaines {comment le dire autrement} et un filet de bave,
ouais, ils ont un super disque sur le label les disques flow et un morceau sur la super compile du label sdz, dont je dois parler un jour
j’ai dit
l’expérience de ce concert des subtle turnhips est indescriptible, enfin je vois que certains y arrivent donc je fais un effort
les subtle turnhips sont un groupe légendaire
enfin je crois
ils ne jouent jamais
certains les ont vus toutefois, parait il, au festival sonic protest mais je ne sais pas l’année
les subtle turnhips sont plus jeunes que moi mais plus vieux que leur public et mettent tout en oeuvre pour désorienter le spectateur, je dirais moi que c’est un power trio {description presque purement technique} qui joue soit du proto funhouse, soit du proto punk, soit des protos ballades, soit du proto no wave, le tout d’une manière à la fois très détachée {haussements de sourcils du bassiste}, très intense {le bassin trempé du batteur}, très habitée {la noirceur amusée du guitariste}
ils étaient, je le crois, déterminés à épuiser les spectateurs en ne cessant de jouer pendant facilement deux heures mais je pense qu’ils ont été pris à leur propre piège car dans ce tuyau de cave ils ne voyaient que les 5 personnes du premier rang qui n’ont pas bougé de la soirée pendant que, derrière, les uns et les autres allaient prendre l’air au dehors tour à tour puis revenaient, écouter ce groupe qui continuait toujours, encore et encore, à jouer des trucs ahurissants
je trouve
parfois je surmonte des choses terribles
là j’ai un CD {grumpf!]
sur le label de thurston moore {barf!}
ecstatic peace,
bon
un CD d’une vieille gloire {trrrrr!}
du p*nk {oh}
et, euh, j’adore
mais
je crois que je me fais un petit
peu avoir
lorsqu’il est sorti je n’aimais déjà plus eno
ce disque de portsmouth sinfonia je le voyais tout le temps dans les bacs, je l’aurais bien acheté mais c’était évidemment une joke et l’argent {hier comme aujourd’hui} à dépenser en disques est compté
subitement j’ai eu envie de l’avoir
et je l’ai eu, il est arrivé sous cellophane et je l’ai ouvert car je ne suis pas collectionneur
après je l’ai écouté et ça nous a tous bien fait rire à la maison
seulement il est très difficile de l’écouter jusqu’au bout, même d’une seule face, c’est un disque qui demande une attention très soutenue
dès qu’on pense un peu à autre chose ça devient insupportable
je dirais donc que c’est un excellent disque et que je le ré-écouterais bientôt, morceau par morceau
sur la pochette on voit tous les protagonistes, moi j’ai du mal à croire qu’ils ne savaient pas se servir de leurs instruments, en particulier, j’ai repéré ces deux noms, steve beresford et gavin bryars
hein
tout ça est très arty, d’ailleurs ils se sont rencontrés au royal college of art ou un truc comme ça, vous me direz je cherche toujours le single de joseph beuys à un prix r*ck et pas un prix *rt con, je crois que je ne l’aurais jamais mais c’est juste parce que c’est un très bon™ disque
du coup j’ai un peu honte d’adorer ce love of life orchestra
oui il a une pochette inspirée par lawrence weiner et il y a écrit merci à lawrence weiner, j’aimais beaucoup lawrence weiner quand je m’interessais à ces trucs de culture dominante et j’ai même un badge de lawence weiner
je ne le porte pas il est en forme d’os, un peu, entouré de rouge
ce disque de love of life orchestra je n’aurais pas du l’acheter DU TOUT car je viens de découvrir que l’autre idiot de james murphy {vous savez le type qui s’est vendu à nike très tôt dans sa carrière} va ressortir quelques lolo sur son label {vous savez son label pourri, là}, qu’on se le dise je m’en fous de son label à cet imbécile
le disque geneva de love of life orchestra est, par contre, super™
d’une façon particulièrement mystérieuse car il me donne l’impression de découvrir tout un pan de musique avortée qui n’aurait pas eu de suite, une musique qui ne débouche sur rien, une musique sans avenir
ni funk, ni expérimentale, ni rien
le saxo fait un peu penser à gerry rafferty et c’est très mélodiquement entrainant et charmant, et désuet
je n’ai pratiquement écouté que ça ce week-end et la seule chose sur laquelle ça a débouché c’est nick gilder
en fait ça n’avait pas de rapport
ah et aussi j’ai pensé le mot muzak
ça n’est pas allé plus loin non plus et ce n’est pas plus mal car ça m’aurait entrainé à lire des trucs interminables comme celui-ci
ça
MUZAK-A CONCEPT IN HUMAN ENGINEERING
In Tibet, Singing Bowls, Singing Bells, Thigh Bone Trumpets, Drums are used
in, to westerners, non-logical combinations to cure Migraines, Mental Illness,
and other metabolic imbalances. Thee language used is different. Thee heads
of Demons are split asunder, Demons are exorcised from those possessed
(could describe a junky in cold-turkey).
In other ethnic cultures, trance states, visionary states are achieved by
Rhythms and Frequencies. In New Guinea large Sacred Flutes vibrate thee air against itself causing mental revelatory states and precognition. In Morocco, thee Joujouka players use high Frequency pipes and drums to reach ecstatic states and conjour up Pan and effect Magick. In thee Mayan civilisation, there were strange unexplained « oil-lamps » which for a long time were merely trinkets in Museums, misunderstood objects. Then one day a young archaeologist happened to idly blow through one, hit a pure, very high
pulsating note that sent him on a « trip ». Throughout thee world, in all
cultures therefore, primitive and technological, man has instinctively known
that Frequency and Pulse coumbined had amazing effects on mind and body.
Until recently, there was no language to adequately describe this
interrelationship, and even now, Research is only slowly collating precise
data on which frequency/pulse does what. Everyone has observed Tribal
warriors whipping themselves into a trance for war, to feel no pain (that is
of course Endorphine) or for « Magick », to have visions, see Demons, etc. (that is its visionary, hallucinogenic capacity). Yet two and two were never fully put together. A Bill Haley concert would end in frenzied vandalism, Bill Haley thinking it was because his music was so fantastically good and exciting AS MUSIC. In fact it was a coumbination of mass hysteria, as in Tribal dancing, and an actual drug-induced, metabolic explosion, totally unconscious and uncontrolled, triggered by thee inherent rhythms and Frequencies of sound.
Because he was unaware of thee triggers he was dabbling with, thee very
results were unpredictable, coumfused and uncontrolled. Funny enough,
those Right-Wing journalists who condemned this « jungle music » were far
closer to thee truth than their tiny minds could ever have envisaged. So
music does PHYSICALLY reconstruct, ENGINEER, thee brain, its hormones,
thee body, its hormones; its entire metabolic regulator system is tuned.
There is a great deal of pressure upon thee inventors of thee Black Box to
cease their research; or hand it over to thee Governments of USA and Britain.
There is incredible pressure from thee huge drug corporations to prevent its
widespread publicity and application too. Obviously they have a vested
interest in making millions from drug-dependent human beings whilst
simultaneously suppressing their visionary capabilities. Thee old story
Burroughs got so right. This also explains thee kidnap of Rock music in thee
Sixties by thee Governments and Media, aided by corporations and
coumglomerates to defuse its radical abilities to restate thee tribal
unification and ecstasy of primitive ritual music. Drugs suppress, commercial
« easy listening » music suppresses, they quite literally addict and destroy
thee potency of each metabolism they affect. It is a war, no two ways about
it, and only now do we have thee information and technology needed to fight
our own guerilla war back. One has to begin to construct one’s music to
short-circuit thee implants we’ve been conditioned into with commercial
music. One has to avoid and reject thee drugs of control we’ve been
conditioned to rely on in moments of defeat and self-hate. We need to
discover and research, as scientifically as possible, methods to reach drug
states that are useful without thee use of drugs. Sound, Frequency,
Dreamachines are thee keys to that. Boy guerilla in a police station,
questioned, under threat, no worries about blackmail through needing a fix,
no cold turkey. He can use trained voice pitch to flip out his custodians, send
them blind, make them vomit and walk out a free man stamping his feet in
coded rhythm of control paranoia. Information suppressed by authorities
and monopolised by big business is usually dangerous to their supremacy
and useful to us, making them both impotent and redundant. When power is
dispensable it is no longer power, it is pathetic posturing.
Burroughs and Gysin chanced upon cut-ups, they had thee vision to see thee
IMPLICATIONS. And discovering thee code of true implications is thee mark
of real genius, really radical thought. Gysin hallucinated constructively whilst
travelling on a bus through France. Thee sunlight flickering through
regularly spaced trees on his closed eyelids pulsing at slightly different
phased intervals being thee key, coumbined with a particular frequency. He
understood thee IMPLICATIONS, and with Ian Sommerville built thee
DREAMACHINE, probably thee most important and thee most neglected anti-
control, anti-drug device ever invented by mankind. Permanent visions and
perceptual revelations for an occasionally replenished light-bulb. With T.G.
we openly declared our primary interest was METABOLIC music, and thee
application of cut-up techniques with tape and sound to non-entertainment
motivated music directed at deconditioning social restraints on thought and
body. In PSYCHIC TV we intend to apply our research and new information
to building an even more precise and useful Individual structure that
consciously takes into account thee real effects of Frequency and Pulse
butter propagandises them in a very deceptive and subliminal way. A
distorted mirror reflecting muzak back on itself. An innocuous parody of
style, tactic and structure that in fact contains, in code, thee seeds of its own
destruction, and hopefully, thee structure that nurtures it. To appear
deflowered yet to be totally potent.
REFERENCES
Thee language used in mysticism, quite rightly has been debunked. It has
becoum a crutch of not-understanding that allows dogma to flourish. Our
enemy must always use dogma. To ask « WHY? », to « NEVER ACCEPT » are
crucial. Thee most crucial and stimulating of human capacities. However, one
can recognize an intuitive grasp of thee real function of sound when, for
example, Paramhansa Yogananda says: « I understand the explosive vibratory
power in human speech could be wisely directed to free one’s life from
difficulties and thus operate without scar or rebuke. »
« Any word spoken with clear realization and deep concentration has a
materialising value. Loud or silent repetition of words has been found
effective in psychotherapy. The secret lies in the stepping-up of the mind’s
vibratory rate. »
PTV suggested that musick is like teeth. You keep probing around until you
find holes and then you fill them in until you have a coumplete set.
Industrial Music was a term coined by Monte Cazazza for our early research.
We openly declared we should eventually like to invent an anti-muzak that,
instead of cushioning thee sounds of a factory environment, made use of
those very sounds to create rhythmic patterns and structures that
incorporated thee liberating effects of music by unexpected means. This
approach is diametrically opposed to thee position of official MUZAK, as
supplied by thee MUZAK CORPORATION of AMERICA. Their intention is to
disguise stress, to control and direct human activity to generate maximum
productivity and minimum discontent in order to give large corporations and
industrial coumplexes thee highest possible profit with thee least
responsibility. At this point E quote direct from a book published by thee
MUZAK CORPORATION for its employees only and which E was able to read
sections of by nefarious means:
Upon entering thee Headquarters of Muzak Corp., there is a marble tablet set
into thee wall which reads ‘MUZAK-A CONCEPT IN HUMAN ENGINEERING.’
« One problem we face today is noise. We are going to have to protect people
against noise pollution. » Dr. Bill Wokoun-Director of Human Engineering.
« Even banks have a noise problem, a sonic overload of chairs
scraping/coughing/machines/high heels on vinyl/talking. It is becoming
very evident that you have got to protect people who are working. They will
have to wear ear-plugs or ear-muffs. But people don’t LIKE to do this
because it makes them feel violated. So we’re experimenting with a way of
making it more COMFORTABLE to wear headsets (be violated! – Ed.) by
piping in muzak. » Dr. B. Wokoun. Muzak is a PROGRAMMED ENVIRONMENT.
The raw material of muzak is music. Muzak serves 43 of the top 50 largest
Industrial companies. In ice-bound radar stations, muzak stimulates the men
who man the DEW-Line, the Distant Early Warning Cordon, to warn of
nuclear attack. Over 80 million people a day hear muzak. Muzak isn’t music
to LISTEN to, it is music to HEAR. Muzak is functional music. There are three
main Muzak programmes, for Heavy Industry, Light Industry and the Basic,
or Office programme. In each of these 15 minutes of music, or « sound-
inmotion » as we call it, is followed by 15 minutes of silence. « The ironical
thing is, we have no trouble in TOTALITARIAN countries. Mood control and
crowd control is part of the work of the HUMAN FACTORS DIVISION.
« The IRREDUCIBLE MINORITY are people who don’t want or like muzak. A
muzak transmission studio is a dream of 1984 automation. » (From the Muzak
Corp. Bulletin G.B.) « If muzak makes people happy and contented in their
environment, like air-conditioning and a colour scheme, how can it NOT be
good? »
« MUZAK – SPECIALISTS IN THE PHYSIOLOGICAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL
EFFECTS AND APPLICATIONS OF MUSIC. »
Muzak is based on the theory of the ASCENDING CURVE.
The initial observation was that production is inclined to slump in mid-
morning and afternoon. Wyatt and Langon established 4 work-curves from
utter fatigue to a subtler decline that occurs when the work is distasteful
and the operative is severely bored. Dan O’Neill decided this monotony and
its effects would be relieved by FUNCTIONAL MUSIC, i.e., boring work is
made less boring by boring music (Muzak quote).
Some titles of Muzak Corp. Reports and Research documents:
Effects of Muzak on Industrial Efficiency.
Effects of Muzak on Office Personnel.
Application of Functional Music to Worker Efficiency.
The « Hawthorne Effect » is « A change in employee productivity caused by an
awareness that reactions to environmental changes are being observed. »
Research findings on the physiological and psychological effects of music and muzak:
It increases the metabolism. Speeds up breathing, typing, writing, driving.
Increases (or sometimes decreases) muscular energy. Reduces suggestability, (not proven at all, recent use of coded messages in muzak to prevent theft in supermarkets suggest the opposite and that Muzak Corp are lying) delays fatigue, facilitates attention, and produces marked, if rather variable effects on blood pressure and pulse.
My note: People often put on records whilst trying to seduce someone for
sex, this is an unconscious use of muzak effects and admission of thee
physical controls of music. Addiction to playing music is a commonplace
example of instintive use of functional music.
By 1956 Dan O’Neill finally achieved workable « Muzak Programming and
Stimulus Charts ». Patterns with upwards scoops of sonic stimulus which
exactly compensate for those dark quarter-hours when employee’s residual
energy is lowest. Music should embody a constant progression of
BRIGHTNESS. This is done by analysing the separate segments into:
Tempo, Rhythm, Instrumentation, and Tonal Mass.
The reason you always get 15 minutes of muzak followed by 15 minutes of
silence is because the maximum you should play in any working area is 1/2
the time the employee is there. That way the employee is unaware of being
physically and mentally manipulated.
Two big variables in music are Melody and Rhythm. Muzak are now
hypothesising from observations made of hospital patients that htese may be
related to the electrical activity of the nervous system. So that rhythmic
music may stimulate the sympathetic system and melodic music may
stimulate the para-sympathetic system e.g., Cardiac cases seem to respond
better to melodic music. Peptic ulcer patients seem to respond better to
rhythmic music. Muzak Corp. are researching this theory to achieve:
« A total programme. We are not so much interested in what music we use as
with the sequence that will achieve results. »
MUZAK IS HEARD RATHER THAN LISTENED TO.
Although you are not necessarily conscious of it, it will still AFFECT you. This
process is called COMPLETE EAR APPEAL.
In the event of failure of our Basic Programme we do not panic. Muzak has
an automatic sensing unit which will trigger a standby M4R Machine into
operation after 4 minutes of Basic Programme failure (i.e. no audio). The
sensing unit will automatically turn on the button number 3 M4R Machine
which is taped in a pre-set condition. In the advent of nuclear war, Muzak
have our own power generators to ensure no failure of the Basic Programme
to those facilities still functioning and able to recieve our transmissions.
« We were in a slaughterhouse recently. Apparently they were having
problems. The animals’ blood would clot. They say the blood flows freely
now. The muzak relaxes them as they die. »
Muzak is not on pre-packaged cassettes and tapes. The only records of
muzak are NOT on sale to the public, they are for internal research only.
Muzak is transmitted by telephone cable and radio. In that way a monopoly
can be ensured and complete adherence to the selected programme
maintained.
Bear in mind therefore that the innocuous music heard in many elevators,
and supermarkets, offices and fast food chains is not true MUZAK. It is but a
pale, unscientific reflection of thee potent human engineering material.
There is no doubt that thee body metabolism functions primarily via a
combination of electrical frequency, pulse rates, biochemical hormones and
rhythms. Thee brain, a vaguely understood mystery, is dependant on input.
There is no doubt that thee conglomerate forces that seek to maintain control
over us all FOR ITS OWN SAKE, and to preserve their own vacuous position,
are far more aware of these aspects than they admit. There is no doubt that
muzak, drugs, suppressants of metabolic stimulation are used as weapons to
ensure stability of an oppressive status quo. Each breakthrough is kidnapped
from thee youth/radical culture and is emasculated, mutated and rendered
impotent. Only then is it returned to us packaged and harmless to them, as
commercial music, token rebellion and obvious yet useless anti-social
behaviour that not only ensures thee continued existence of their
omnipotence butter also generates increased incoum for their coumfort,
security and future research into control.
Music now must be aware of thee subtleties of its effects, its structure must
take into account thee metabolic and neurological effects and power of music
and harness them for its own, deconditioning, anarchic ends.
Thee empty carrot of success and respect must be seen for thee transparent
confidence trick that it is, drugs of addiction must be bypassed, thee REAL
WAR must begin. Thee decoding is possible, our own code becoums more
sophisticated and effective.
Everything E say is discussion, nothing is ever finished.
trouvé ici, si ça ne vous plait
pas c’est que ce serait une private joke {?}
salut,
j’ai des courses à faire
entre ça et ça est
à lire ici, et c’est triste et pathétique et aussi marrant,
sort of
quelques illustrations ,
en plus
j’écoute les residents
pas le collectif précurseur qui prépare un projet pour l’ipad, non
les residents
pas les participants à un festival de musiques innovantes
non, les residents
pas un groupe de musique d’avant-garde américain, non
j’écoute les residents, j’écoute god in three persons
personne ne va m’empêcher d’écouter les residents
même si je me suis bien rendu compte qu’à un moment ils se sont mis à déconner, a peu près quand ils se sont mis à systématiquement mettre les gros yeux, je pense
enfin
je me souviens de cet appareil je le voulais
vraiment très cher
ce que j’aime bien dans god in three persons c’est que ce soit une histoire racontée, c’est quelque chose que j’aime beaucoup en ce moment, comme le disque concorde+ avec max goldt qui raconte je ne sais quoi d’ailleurs
ou le velvet avec the gift
Waldo Jeffers had reached his limit. It was now Mid-August which meant that he had been separated from Marsha for more than two months. Two months, and all he had to show was three dog-eared letters and two very expensive long distance phone calls. When school had ended and she’d returned to Wisconsin, and he to Locust, Pennsylvania. She had sworn to maintain a certain fidelity, she would date occasionally, but merely as amusement. She would remain faithfull.
But lately Waldo had begun to worry. He had trouble sleeping at night and when he did, he had horrible dreams. He lay awake at night, tossing and turning underneath his pleated quilt protector, tears welling in his eyes. As he pictured Marsha, her sworn vows overcome by liquor and the smooth soothing of some neanderthal, finally submitting to the final caresses of sexual oblivion. It was more than the human mind could bear.
Visions of Marsha’s faithlessness haunted him. Daytime fantasies of sexual abandon permeated his thoughts. And the thing was they wouldn’t really understand how she really was. He, Waldo, alone, understood this. He had intuitively grasped every nook and cranny of her psyche. He had made her smile, and she needed him, and he wasn’t there. (ahhh….)
The idea came to him on the Thursday before the Mummers’ Parade was scheduled to appear. He had just finished mowing and etching the Edelsons lawn for a dollar fifty and had checked the mailbox to see if there was at least a word from Marsha. There was nothing more than a circular from the Amalgamated Aluminum Company of America inquiring into his zoning needs. At least they cared enough to write. It was a New York company. You could go anywhere in the mail.
Then it struck him, he didn’t have enough money to go to Wisconsin in the accepted fashion, true, but why not mail himself? It was absurdly simple. He would ship himself parcel post special delivery. The next day Waldo went to the supermarket to purchase the necessary equipment. He bought masking tape, a staple gun and a medium sized box, just right for a person of his built. He judged that with a minimum of jostling he could ride quite comfortably. A few airholes, some water, of course, midnight snacks and it would probably be as good as going tourist.
By Friday afternoon, Waldo was set. He was packed and the post office had agreed to pick him up at three o’clock. He’d marked the package « Fragile », and as he sat curled up inside, resting the foam rubber cushioning he’d thoughtfully included, he tried to picture the look of awe and happiness on Marshas face as she opened the door, saw the package, tipped the deliverer, and then opened it to see her Waldo finally there in person. She would kiss him, then, maybe they could see a movie. If he’d only thought of this before. Suddenly rough hands gripped his package and he felt himself barne up. He landed with a thud in a truck and then he was off.
Marsha Bronson had just finished setting her hair. It had been a very rough weekend. She had to remember not to drink like that. Bill had been nice about it though. After it was over he’d said that he still respected her and, after all, it was certainly the way of nature, and even though, no he didn’t love her, he did feel an affection for her. And, after all, they were grown adults. Oh, what Billy could teach Waldo – but that seemed like years ago.
Sheila Klein, her very, very best friend walked in through the porch screen door and into the kitchen.
« Oh god, it’s absolutely maudlin outside. »
« I know what you mean, I feel all icky! » Marsha tightened her cotton robe with the silk outer edge. Sheila ran her finger over some salt grains on the kitchen table, licked her fingers and made a face.
« I’m supposed to take these salt pills, » but she wrinkled her nose, « They make me feel like throwing up. » Marsha started to pat herself under the chin, an exercise she’d seen on television. « God, don’t even talk about that. » She got up from the table and went to the sink where she picked up a bottle of pink and blue vitamins. « Want one? Supposed to be better than steak. » And attempted to touch her knees.
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com« I don’t think I’ll ever touch a daiquiri again. » She gave up and sat down, this time nearer the table that supported the telephone. « Maybe Bill will call. » she said to Sheila’s glance. Sheila nibbled on a cuticle.
« After last night, I thought maybe you’d be through with him. »
« I know what you mean, my God, he was like an octopus. Hands all over the place. » She gestured, raising her arms upwards in defense. « The thing is after a while, you get tired of fighting with him, you know, and after all he didn’t really do anything Friday and Saturday so I kind of owed it to him, you know what I mean. » She started to scratch.
Sheila was giggling with her hand over her mouth. « I’ll tell you, I feel the same way, and even after a while, » here she bend forward in a whisper, wanted to, » and now she was laughing very loudly.
It was at this point that Mr. Jameison of the Clarence Darrow Post Office rang the door bell of the large colored stucco frame house. When Marsha Bronson opened the door, he helped her carry the package in. He had his yellow and green slips of paper signed and left with a fifteen cent tip that Marsha had gotten out of her mothers small beige pocketbook in the den.
« What do you think it is? » Sheila asked.
Marsha stood with her arms folded behind her back. She stared at the brown cardboard carton that sat in the middle of the living room: « I don’t know. »
Inside the package Waldo quivered with excitement as he listened to the muffled voices. Sheila ran her fingernail over the masking tape that ran down the center of the carton. « Why don’t you look at the return address and see who it is from? »
Waldo felt his heart beating. He could feel the vibrating footsteps. It would be soon.
Marsha walked around the carton and read the ink-scratched label. « God, it’s from Waldo. »
« That schmuck! » said Sheila.
Waldo trembled with expectation.
« You might as well open it, » said Sheila. Both of them tried to flip the stable flap.
« Ah, » said Marsha groaning. « He must have nailed it shut. » They tagged at the flap again. « My God, you need a power drill to get this thing opened. » They pulled again. « You can’t get a grip! » They both stood still, breathing heavily. « Why don’t you get the scissors, » said Sheila. Marsha ran into the kitchen, but all she could find was a little sewing scissors. Then she remembered that her father kept a collection of tools in the basement. She ran downstairs and when she came back, she had a large metal cutter in her hand. « This is the best I could find. » She was out of breath. « Here, you do it. I’m gonna die. » She sank into a large fluffy couch and exhaled noisily. Sheila tried to make a slit between the masking tape and the end of the cardboard, but the blade was too big and there was not enough room. « G-damn this thing! » she said feeling very exaspe- rated. Then, smiling « I got an idea. » « What? » said Marsha. « Just watch, » said Sheila touching her finger to her head.
Inside the package, Waldo was transfixed with excitement that he could hardly breathe. His skin felt prickly from the heat and he could feel his heart beating in his throat. It would be soon.
Sheila stood quite upright and walked around to the other side of the package. Then she sank down to her knees, grasped the cutter by both hands, took a deep breath and plunged the long blade through the middle of the package, through the middle of the masking tape, through the card-board through the cushioning and right through the center of Waldo Jeffers head, which split slightly and caused little rhythmic arcs of red to pulsate gently in the morning sun.
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