rock and roll musings by Tim Byrnes

 

 

 

     I've been gone so long it feels like here to me. Happy whatever, winter maybe? OK? Cool. The combination of work, bad weather and worse moods have kept me from typing to y'all for too long. And by that I mean long enough for me to wonder why I type this stuff to begin with. What started as a faux-rock critic 'column' (benign as midlife crises go I suppose) drifted evr further into my internal/eternal teenage bullshit about faith and lies and love and responsibility and after much careful consideration and depressed brooding I've come to the conclusion that this question can only be answered w/yet another question.

     Mainly, who cares?

     Does it really matter what I, or anyone for that matter thinks about anything from Iggy Pop to global warming? Sure conversations get started, maybe, in my case the main conversation here has been between myself and the Voice of Catholicism. That is I've devoted waaaaaaaaaaay too much of my time bloviating in the wind w/my 'good' twin.

     As far as rock and roll goes anymore, Lester was right, it's dead. Or at leat sleeping very, very soundly. We need another Sex Pistols and so far, nothing. I mean, sure Fergie's hot, but come on.....

     "Ah, here it comes, that old ennui, I hope it don't stay long" as Roxy put it in 'If It Takes All Night', I'm too tired for even depression. People quitting left at right at work and somehow Ii've wound up the 'responsible one' (that's how shallow the employment pool is out here folks, so the next time you hear some politico spouting off about the glorious American work ethic, you tell 'em Tim said they were full of shit) and as a result have been working 55-60 hr weeks, which has made my landlord very happy and even given me glimpses of that old devil 'sense of accomplishment' we humans cling to so blindly in an effort to stave off the stark realization that life is random, terminal and really cares not a whit for you or yr little soul.

     I was, of course, gonna go off on Christmas here. Y'know the whole 'Jesus was born in April, the Church swiped a pagan feastday and repainted it into the corporate wageslave soaker we all know and love today, how nice that we're gonna take that day off from shooting at folks who buy one invisible man story so we can celebrate ours. The whole stack of pitiful irony some, if not most of us wrap our stunted existences in because we're told it's warm and, hey, aren't the shiny colors pretty. Yes, kids the ipods are in bloom etc. etc. etc. But again, I thought

     Who cares?

      Ruin yr own Christmases, I gotta get back to work, y'know?

 

sorry to be so depressing, but really, who cares?

felix navidad,

tbyrnes

Posted by: timbyrnes at 20:53 | link | comments (34)