Tuesday, February 20, 2007

The Goddess of Venus (Bananarama)

Language: Italian

No real progress yet on the employment thing. This has me, actually, kind of depressed, as in clinically. Also I've been kind of fevery and headachy for the last few days and haven't been sleeping well. So maybe I'm catching a cold or something too. Hard to tell.

Doesn't really matter, I suppose, but even so, I'm feeling pretty low. Also bored, and cranky.

On the plus side, a fern I've had since like October, which had been losing frond after frond after frond during the winter, has just begun to sprout new ones. This is very exciting, in a weird way. I've never had a fern before, and was under the impression that this was kind of a long shot. So it was nice to see it growing.

Also, the husband and I went to Cedar Rapids last Friday, because he had a thing to go to up there and I had nothing better to do, so we made a day of it and visited garden centers. I found a Chamaedorea metallica at Pierson's Flower Shop and Greenhouses (1800 Ellis Rd. NW, Cedar Rapids), which I had given up on seeing any in Iowa and figured I was going to have to order seeds from somewhere. So that was pretty cool. They also had a few Fatsia japonica, which I also haven't been able to find anywhere else and kind of wanted, but I didn't buy one of those, mostly because they'd let their smaller, cheaper specimens dry out to death. But even so, we're totally going back sometime.

This means that I now have two plants whose botanical names overlap with a band name: Chamaedorea metallica / Metallica and Ficus elastica / Elastica. That might actually be all there are, unless some scientist somewhere has just classified a Dieffenbachia bonjovi or a Dracaena devo or a Cissus bjorkiana or something. Which, by the way, some scientist should totally do.

The song has no connection to any of that (again). I just thought it was a nice idea. I hate the disposable razor ads that use this song, mostly for being omnipresent some time back (have they stopped those, or am I just not seeing them anymore?). Nothing wrong with the song in and of itself, though. Anyway.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Advanced on the mountain,
burning as a silver flame,
the top of beauty and love,
and Venus was her name.

She has it!
Yeah, child, she has it.
I'm your Venus; they're the fire
to that desire of yours.

Its crystal eyes were its crews,
that render blackness to every man,
like a dark night
that obtained what no others have been.

She has it!
Yeah, child, she has it, that
fire. They are yours, Venus; I'm the
well of your desire.

Fire your Venus. I'm
your desire.

Advanced on the mountain,
burning as a silver flame,
the top of beauty and love,
and Venus was her name.

She has it!
Yeah, child, she has it, that
fire. They're yours, Venus; I'm the
well of your desire.

Fire your Venus. I'm
your desire.

Monday, February 12, 2007

Large-Boned Woman (k. d. lang)

Language: Dutch

Sorry there's been so little blog activity lately; the whole unemployment thing is surprisingly demanding. I don't have a lot to say about anything anyway; this particular song (which wound up having some good lines, by the way) is kind of a placeholder. Hopefully soon things will return to some kind of normal and then we can proceed.


- - - - - - - - - - - - -

She was large-boned: not a woman
of Southern Alberta.
Only you could call her small.
And each Saturday night, you can bet
on her in the legion room.

Her blue clothing was conducted to move,
and she'd rolled him up --
which, oh, she'd already yielded.
And with a jump in her step,
and a wiggle in her pace, wait
below the street: she'll swing.

You could tell they were ready
by eyes on her can,
since she slipped by the mob.
She has run with grace
since they entered the place
yes, was a proud large-boned Woman.

Hey! Hey! Large-boned woman!
Don't doubt it: they're not natural.
A snake shakes, and
the floor breaks crossways, and we're concerned.
Hey! Hey! Large-boned woman!
I doubt they're natural.
Wind and a rock,
now she is shouting for more!

Now, people will manage themselves
from miles,
and would collect there to dance,
but then in the large-boned woman's shuffling,
she ended up keeping them in a trance.

Friday, February 02, 2007

The Super Shuffle of the Basin (Owens and Meyer)

Language: Portuguese.

We reluctantly interrupt the epic poem that is Jessi’s employability tango to bring you this increasingly-ubiquitous-as-we-approach-Sunday “rap” from 1985. Not much to say here, other than maybe it didn’t need to be seven minutes? Maybe cut the saxophone solo? We note, helpfully: a song already laden with double negatives in its pre-Babelpopped state begins to buckle under the weight of triple negatives post-op (“We are not here, not to start no problem”), so we hasten to add that if you want to skip ahead, line six of Steve Fuller’s verse might be the one to hit and get out.

Interestingly (I guess), D.T. Dan Hampton declined to participate in the performance, so we’ll have to imagine what could have been. If I could, just for a moment, step into the shoes of Mel Owens and Dick Meyer (and why would I; read this
sad-ass article from the Sun Times about Owens, holy crap), I think it would go a little like this:

I’m Dan Hampton; something something “defensive tackle”
Here is the call of the common grackle
Um, I don’t actually know anything about this position
But I am a sucker for McSweeney’s Limited Editions
I don’t like Superbowl commercials; they all kind of suck
Do that many Americans really need trucks?

If you have severe combined immunodeficiency syndrome
You have to live in a bubble
Which would preclude you from doing
The Superbowl (&c.)

“The Superbowl Shuffle”, N.B., was nominated for a Grammy for “Best Rhythm & Blues Vocal Performance” (so I was wrong when I said “rap” up above, mea culpa), but lost to Prince’s “Kiss”, which means, sometimes, there is justice (yay!). Prince is actually performing at halftime on Sunday. Do I smell a rematch?

If so, all due respect to Walter Payton, who, it is said, runs the ball like he’s making romance, but “Kiss” remains about the sexiest damn thing I can think of right now, and it’s sort of late, and that’s when I think of sexy damn things.

I don’t want to step on Dimetrios Georgos Synodinos’ toes (What? He’s dead? Are all the heroes gone?), but I’m going to call it:



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

We are the bears
That group that mounts in confusion
On for low, making for you.
We are, thus, that bad.
(We know that we are good.)
To cast its mind as we know in them .

You know that we are to support, just for the amusement,
Whom we support our material. For all,
We are not here, not to start no problem.
We are right to make the super shuffle of the basin here.

Of Walter Payton:
Well, call me sweetness, and I taste to dance.
To function the sphere is as to make romance.
We had the objective since that encampment of training
To give to the Chicago a super possibility of the basin.
We are not making this because we are greedy.
The bears are making it to needily feed.
We did not come here to look the problem.
Us? We only came here to make the super shuffle of the basin.

Of Willie Gault:
That is: Willie, Speedy, and I am classroom of the world.
I taste to function, but I love starting the ticket.
I practice the entire day and dance all the night,
Me, I started to start soon for the Sunday fight.
Now I am so smooth. How much a whirlwind of the chocolate?
Me, I dance a little funky.
Thus, he gives the Attention Girl to me.
He does not have one here that he makes likes it.
My super shuffle of the basin will adjust it exempt.

Of Singletary of the Microphone:
I am Microphone of the Samurai;
I stop them cold.
Part of the defense? great!
And bold me has bogged for completely one, when,
Making what he is, right and adjusting the style,
they give a possibility to me.
It will balance it good.
Nobody that messing in my neighborhood.
I did not come here looking the problem.
Me? I only came to make the shuffle that super of the basin


Of Jim McMahon:
I am the QB punky, known as McMahon.
When I beat turf, I not have got no plant.
I game only my body, all on the field.
I cannot dance, but I can play “pill”.
I motivate the cats, me, exasperate, taste.
I game thus that cool, I point (please!).
This is because you all here in the double started to stop me.
That it makes the super shuffle of the basin.

Of Otis Wilson:
I am Otis! Boy of the breast, one of a type!
Mrs. All, the love for me, my body and my mind.
I am smooth in the wooden floor, as I cannot be,
But not to sucker he that goes to start me after.
Some guys are jealous of my style, and the classroom.
That one is because some extremity above in its donkey
did not come here looking the problem.
Me, starts only for low, to the super shuffle of the basin.

That Fuller of Steve:
They say that Jimbo is our man.
If Jimmy will not be making, certain can of I.
This is Steve. And it is not no wonder
That I function, I eat the lightning and step as the thunder.
It brings thus in Atlanta, bring in Dallas.
That is, for the Halas bear of the microphone and the Pope.
I am not here to feather its ruffle,
Me, I only came here to make the super shuffle of the basin.

Of Richardson of the Microphone:
I am L.A. Microphone, and I cool game it.
Not sneak for me. Because I am not no fool,
I fly in the field and start on for low.
All know that I around not mess.
I can break them, agitate them, in any height of that day.
I taste to steal it and to make the payment to them,
Thus satisfied, I do not cry out to beat to mine hustle.
Because I am just to make the super shuffle of the basin here.


Of the Tooth of Richard:
The man of sack: that he comes, I am its tooth of the man.
If quarterback to be late, he is going to start bending.
We stop the functioning, we stop the ticket,
Me/we like to pour guys in its donkey.
We love playing for the better fans of the world;
You, we improve the start that makes its super plants of the basin.
But he does not start soon, nor does not go to no problem
(Unless you practice the super shuffle of the basin...!).

Of Gary Fencik:
Is Gary here? I am Mr. Limpo.
They call me “beaten man”.
I do not know what they mean.
They play it for much time, and they give attention
To me to function (me, are in my man, a-in-one).
Guys of the Comrade Covers! It for low to the bone, that one.
Because in them, they call “Zone 46”.
Come in! All he leaves us to cry out and to cry out,
“We are going to make the shuffle! To follow, we sound its bell!”

Of William Perry:
You are looking at the coolant. Me, you are rookie.
I can be great, but I am not no cookie (dumb).
You, he saw to beat me, you saw me to function,
When I start to ticket us, he will have more amusement.
I can dance. You, I will see
the other (they who all learn of me).
I do not come here looking the problem.
Me? I only came here to make the super shuffle of the basin.


Thursday, February 01, 2007

The Promise of a New Day (Paula Abdul)

Language: Spanish

I've been wanting to do a Paula Abdul song for ages, but the first attempts ("Forever Your Girl" and "Vibeology") fell as I was taking them out of the oven1, so eventually I lost interest. But then I found interest again, apparently.

Greenhouse update: went in again on Tuesday and was told that they're not going to do any actual hiring until after Valentine's Day. So continued limbo. Though Valentine's isn't actually that far away, I suppose. Even so. The promise of a new day, or job, or whatever, is not interchangeable with an actual new day.

So the husband and I have decided to have a "Closure Party" for my fellow cashiers (except the one I'm not very fond of2) on Friday night. Which might be fun. I'm not sure. I haven't hosted a collegey drinking party like this in like ten years, and I'm not sure that most of those went all that well. Having low standards certainly helped. But we'll see. It should be fine. I suppose the worst that could happen is, husband and I get hauled off to jail for giving alcohol to minors and it forever ruins our chances of holding professional jobs or traveling anywhere else in the world and drives us into bankruptcy. Some of those things have already happened, so I'm not losing sleep over it. I sure as hell don't care if I'm forever known as a crappy hostess.


1So to speak. And actually with "Vibeology" it was more like the souffle exploded and then turned into roofing tar, truth be told.

2Nothing wrong with her. I'm sure she's a nice person and she loves Jesus and puppies and her mother and everything. But we'd never really talked, and when we did talk she rubbed me the wrong way, somehow, and space in the apartment was a concern already, so it didn't take much of a push to convince me that she didn't really need an invitation. Also she has nebulous connections to the family who owned the place, and as there seems to be some bitterness towards said family from certain of the invitees, it's a little risky to invite someone who might eventually carry gossip back. Though in fairness it couldn't really matter if gossip were carried back anyway: what could they do, lay everybody off again?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

An eagle called his well-known ones, and then he
returned to bring winds and tides, giving the change.
Why do I do it? I feel this way:
the promise of a new day.

The promise,
the promise of a new day, is
like that time the Earth moved closer. Under my feet, more
complete love makes a step.
The promise of a new day has the final opinion.


What terms will change the world in a certain time?
Nobody knows that,
so the only promise to give is a day to live,
and part the one with the other.

Considering the wisdom of our past errors,
to hear the youngest generation ask
"Why do I do it this way?" feels so
new: the promise of a new day.


(Repeat song)