The Decay of the Angel (天人五衰)

Business office line. I think the chairs might be for Financial Aid. Jesus Christ, there are a lot of people in line. Has to be Financial Aid. I wonder if I could get financial aid? I don't really need it, but it'd be nice. Like a sign that the system cares about me. Chairs definitely not business office line. Fuck. Stand here.

Three people in line.

Does that lady have a mullet? Does that lady have a bald spot in her mullet?

Oh God, fucking loud kids. In goes the earphones. Wait, turn it down, you are going to want to hear this.

-You should do it.

Response is quick rocking from foot to foot in place. Guy rocking, guy being encouraged, is dressed in all black, black toboggan, scraggly rapist hair peeking out underneath. Bit of a pubic hair patch under his chin. Catch eyes, definitely vacant.

-Come on, man.

Encourager is squat, maybe 5'9". Red hair. Matches the horrible plague of acne on his cheeks. Goes to some red facial hair, like a desperate attempt to cover the sores on his face. Book bag over shoulder, dressed nice enough. Thumb up volume. That lady in line for financial aid is cute. Probably has a fucking litter of pups. All these girls have kids. Volume down.

-It's all nacho cheese, man. Come on. It's just--

Black guy is rocking back and forth more vigorously, like his whole body is engaged in a masturbatory act, mumbling the occasional affirmative grunt.

-Just a tub of nacho cheese. A big bag of--

Is acne man comparing some girl that Pube Beard is going to fuck to a tub of nacho cheese? How, most probably, poetically apt.

-Come on, man. She was totally into you.

-She was too into me.

Again, probably true. Jesus Christ, what the fuck is mullet woman doing up there?

-You should go for it. She was cute and fun.

Cute and fun? I wonder what their standards of cute and fun are? God, to think of these fuckers passing a character evaluation on any female, especially one that they deem a giant tub of nacho cheese. And he's selling his buddy on this girl's fuckability on her seeming innocuousness.

-Why don't you go for it?

Pube Beard foists the nacho cheese off on Acne.

-She's....

Acne puts his head down, they are at the window. Attendant's gone. Acne arms on ledge, head down, mumbling.

-She's too cute for me.

Sadness!

-She's into anybody. You should do it.

Whore!

-She's...I'm being realistic. She's too cute...

-She called me tiger. Who says tiger nowadays?

Who says nowadays nowadays?

-Really?

-Mary Jane.

-Tiger, dude.

-Mary Jane says tiger.

-And not the one you can smoke.

-Yeah.

-Mary Jane Mary Jane.

The conversation is getting dumb enough that I'm losing thread.

-I'm trying to be, you know I'm trying to be abstinent.

Acne's abstinence is choice, not circumstance. Huzzah! Ego has reformed in a flash. God's chosen soldier, cock-hymen in place, marching forward to encourage drunken fucking of others, surrogate orgasms all around!

-You want me to fail.

Music back up. Brain taken in all it can. Still fucking texting. "How is baby you cok up mac nd cheez be home soon luv u" Definite hardening of lines from meth. Long conversation of meal plan with homoerotic undertones with Acne and Pube Beard.

Spring Semester, Day 1.

I'll know we're fucked, and not getting unfucked soon

Consider this low-rate Pitchfork. My tastes this year have not been especially odd--it’ll probably take a couple years before I find the hidden gems from this year. But overall, I would rank 2009 as a genuinely decent year for music.

The following list is in alphabetical order, as I’m not sure that I could do a genuine rank of “best, better, good.”

First, honorable mention. Albums that may not have been the best of the year, but were decent enough. Many of these are here simply because I don’t think I listened to them enough to have their charms fully worm their wear into my skull.

Animal Collective-Fall Be Kind E.P.

Really only here ‘cause I’d already put Merriweather on the Best list, and felt like I should Sophie Choice A.C. releases. Fall Be Kind is good, but not “fucking genius” like Merriweather. “What Would I Want? Sky” is the best use of The Grateful Dead outside of ice cream ever.

Dirty Projectors-Bitte Orca

Neon Indian-Psychic Chasms

Tortoise-Beacons of Ancestorship

Any new Tortoise release at least deserves a nod of recognition towards its existence. Beacons is less of a Tortoise-sounding release, if that means anything anymore. The whole album sounds like Tortoise heard their kids listening to a lot of electronic music and decided to jump on the bandwagon. It’s not quite electronic, but it’s really fucking close. And whatever it is is at least interesting. Also, the opening track “High Class Slim Came Floating In” is pretty fucking awesome.

So, favorites of the year:

Animal Collective-Merriweather Post Pavilion

The record where Animal Collective keeps its fucking hippy shit together long enough to poo out a nugget of genius. Any record that has songs as good as “My Girls,” “Summertime Clothes,” and “Brother Sport” on it deserves a nod as a job-well-done.

The Antlers-Hospice

I stole this from Hanna in the great music swap of aught nine. Hospice is brilliant, but has every right to be a pretentious mess. First, it’s a concept album. Like Queensryche. Second, it’s a concept album about a cancer patient. Third, it’s best described by words like “earnest,” “sweeping,” and “un-ironic.” But Hospice is genuinely good. And it features the best song about abortion since “Brick”. Unless there has been some unknown-to-me advance in abortion song technology since 1997.

Black Dice-Repo

I saw Black Dice with Animal Collective live, and it was a hilarious experience: watching all the 15 year olds who came to see AC play having to sit through three ugly, ugly men making Frankenstein dance music goes down as a pinnacle moment. Watching these Plano kids turn their backs and cover their ears in fright/snobbery at heart-stoppingly-loud whistles and bells and thuds was like seeing some sort of vengeance enacted from my childhood. Like Carrie setting fires with her menstrual blood.

And that would be enough, but Repo itself is a great record. Live, Black Dice are a beast of rape, constantly making you think that a dance song is about to start, only to once again pull out some noise that makes your eardrums bleed. However, Repo is a little more consenting, and genuinely makes good on the idea of noise dance music.

Fuck Buttons-Tarot Sport

Grizzly Bear-Vecktamist

Jim O’Rourke-The Visitor

The Visitor is the only album that I know of on the list that had special listening instructions: “Please listen on speakers, loud.” This turns what otherwise would have been a relatively mid-tempo instrumental album into a spiritual experience. The music is beautiful, but the experience of listening to it is something unto itself.

Micachu-Jewellery

Micachu is what pop music should be, if pop music were actually good, and not in an ironic “look, I’m a scenster who can appreciate Taylor Swift” sort of way.

Phoenix-Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

St. Vincent-Actor

Berkley Horse

I have decided to do a complete overhaul of my life at the start of the year. This was not meant to be a set of conscious New Year’s resolutions, but it rolls nicely with the tradition. I have laid out a bulleted forty items, that once completed, will make me a better person, if not a demi-God.

The general gist of them is to appreciate life more, especially art. However, there is a renewed emphasis on the physical, as I believe that I have underestimated my physical existence in over pronouncement of intellectual pursuits. Among my resolutions:

5. Get to where I can bike to work.

6. Emotionally distance myself.

7. Understand one philosopher completely.

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9. Cook more food.

10. Smoke less.

11. Take acid.

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21. Wear more suits.

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23. Understand the concept of time.

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25. Lucid dream more.

26. Get in a fist-fight.

27. Get more scars.

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40. Find fulfillment.