I will now perform some idea alchemy. I will begin writing about absolutely nothing, and hope that by the end of this post, I will have developed an idea worth reading. If this sounds absurd, just remember that real alchemists based their living on their ability to turn lead into gold. They failed 100% of the time.

So I was watching Cee Lo Green's video for the song, "F*ck You." Excuse my language, that's what the song is actually called. I noticed, in this brilliant motown-style instant classic, that he has a recurring line in it saying, "I pity the fool (that falls in love with you)." I immediately think of Mr.T when I hear it. From there, I end up thinking of Rocky III and other positively intimidating images of the first black man to popularize the mohawk, years before it went mainstream. If you know what I'm talking about, raise your hand.

I am dumbfounded by the realization that there will be a certain age limit for this hand-raising. In other words, at some point, fewer and fewer people reading this blog will be inclined to raise their hands... in fact, I doubt most of them are still reading this post. They were probably thinking, "Who the HELL is Mr.T???" ... long before I asked them to raise their hand. Next, they probably proceeded to click the link to facebook for the 53rd time today, effectively navigating themselves away from my nonsense forever.

I also noticed in the song that Cee Lo compares some dude to Xbox, and himself to Atari. Did some hands go down? I only 'remember' what Atari is because I was told these legendary stories of the first gaming system and how primitive it was, while I was playing the ultra-advanced Nintendo Entertainment System (yes, the original). I heard horror-stories of a black-and-white screen, and a 'joystick'. I know... phallic, right?

Back to my point! Cee Lo Green's song - instant classic? Why though? Well... he curses in it... as part of the chorus. Most rappers have to FIGHT to get songs with explicit lyrics aired on the radio, but Cee Lo comes along and the radio is chasing HIM. Interesting. He's also physically huge: not exactly an American Idol. What does this suggest about the judgemental consumer? Has mainstream accepted Cee Lo because he is a non-threatening and almost comical figure? Poor Cee Lo, if that's the case -- he's basically getting bullied into success. The beat is also old-school; hardly something you could call new and original. But on the flipside, perhaps this is exactly what is new and original about this song. You might as well put your hand down now, I was about to ask you to keep your hand up if you listen to motown on a regular basis and could name more than just one artist. Could you even name one without scrambling to type it into google? I couldn't. So here we have the rebirth of the old. The resurrection of what has been buried in another generation, with the added effect of some bad-boy swearing and the cute and cuddly image of Mr.Cee Lo himself.

What about the use of these time-travelling terms, as I mentioned above? Cee Lo has done more than just create a hit through this song. He has blended the present with the past... he has made historical music. A music that captures the eternal and perpetual human condition and stretches it over half a century of human tradition. He makes it new, embodies post-modernity, and packages it into something worthy of purchase for the unwitting consumer, who swears by the code of "wanting something new and original." Has my post turned into gold yet?

people do strange things in the night-time, and i am no exception. sometimes i am driving and i am thinking while i am driving, not necessarily about the driving, but thinking nonetheless, and i get the urge to write. i want to write often. i want to write passionately, about what i see, about what i feel, about nothing, and sometimes about something. but then, by the time i get home and i have to opportunity to write... i don't know what inspired me to begin with, and i often lose myself to doing strange things in the night-time.

tonight i was driving. it was a short drive. the drive began at around 1:43 am and concluded at roughly 1:47 am. i rolled down the driver's side window to let in the fresh, but still soothingly warm, young september air. i turned up the volume on my car audio system. this is what i was listening to:





i observed as a blonde female on a bike pedalled by and i thought to myself: where could she possibly be going at this place and time. i mean, sure, it's like 8 am somewhere in the world, but not here. i couldn't imagine myself bike-riding through a dark suburban neighbourhood at this time of night. to me, this appears strange. i also watched, as i turned left from one residential side road onto another, as a young adolescent walked on his lonesome. he was dressed as if he were a criminal. i don't intend to offend anyone with this observation and judgement, it's just that, to my mind's eye, if this young man were to wear a full business suit and tie in the same circumstance, i may have deemed him to not look as much like a criminal as he did while sporting his oversized and overpriced (but made to look cheap) jeans, unnecessary excess jewellery, and sports cap from somewhere not too close by. he made himself look all the more suspicious as he swivelled the head that modelled the cap a full 180 degrees--perhaps aided by a subtle twist of his torso--to eye me and my outdated toyota camry as i cruised by. maybe he was wondering what kind of moron listens to this kind of music, at 2 am, and has it playing this loud out of his windows as if he's proud of it. i bet an argument about music wouldn't last longer than 45 seconds between this gentleman and i. but again, this is judgemental of me. for all i know, he's in the band.

sometimes when i am driving and wishing that i were writing, i begin to write metaphorically as i think. i write in my head. i usually listen to my music loudly, and so, as abstract as this may sound, coming from someone who knows not a damn thing at all about how to write music, i feel as though i am in fact imagining my thoughts and the sounds intertwining and wrapping themselves around the very impulses that define my 'life' essence. there is no other way for me to write this that will help you understand it any better. what i wrote, should be just as confusing for you to understand, as it is for me to conceptualize. i imagine my thoughts sprawling themselves out all over an imaginary musical meter, where the notes do not correspond with the actual music, but DO represent the feelings within my being. and then i come up with such brilliant concepts as the title of my next blog - which should, without question, be: "in the night-time."

think of your life when the sun goes down. personally, i have spent at LEAST 50% of my life awake when the sun is not. if i were to throw my day-time experiences in a ring with my night-time exeperiences, i fear the fight would be eternal between the two. possibly because the style of each fighter is so different that niether one is able to gain the upper-hand, but most probably because the day-time would be so weirded out by the night-time that it would dance around like muhammed ali and get punched in the face a few times but refuse to go down. what i mean to say is that, i do weird things at night-time. i wonder if this is because when it's night-time, normal things seem weird. let's experiment: blonde female riding her bike at 2 pm - normal; blonde female riding her bike at 2 am - weird. that was too easy... let's try again. gangster-looking little teen staring at your crappy car as you drive by him at 2 pm... meh........ 2 am? start to wonder whether he's hiding something. lol. i'm laughing out loud at my own blog post. it's 2:26 am and i am writing about the strange things people do at night.

oh irony.