That Strawberry Wine (Deana Carter)

Language: Portuguese

The husband and I went to my childhood home (from age 2 to 11) on the 4th of July. It wasn't the first time we'd been there; the first time was maybe two or three years ago, which is when I found out that the house I grew up in had been (briefly) a methamphetamine lab, then was bought and demolished by the neighbors. Now, you can't really even tell where it used to be. These neighbors had two daughters, considerably older than I, and one son who was a year younger, and who was, for all intents and purposes, my nemesis when I was a kid. We didn't ever actually hurt one another that I can recall, but we weren't friends, and there were fights. Unpleasantly, it turns out that he, the son, is still living in town there somewhere, which means that he's probably the one who's going to inherit the land when his folks kick, which seems grossly unfair to me. Not only does the neighbor family get to buy and knock down my old house, but then they give the land it used to sit on to Jared?

So but anyway. The town isn't much to look at -- it had about 150 people in it when I lived there, and is now down to about 125-130, depending on whose numbers you believe. But our old property used to be nice. There was a row of walnut trees along the west side of the property, and then a gigantic, ancient weeping willow in the front yard, in the northwest corner. A small patch of rhubarb in the middle of the back yard that we never did anything with, though I occasionally broke off a leaf to taste the stems, which tasted good. Sour-appley. A bunch of raspberry canes ran wild in the southwest corner, and were very very good when they got ripe -- I remember we used to collect bowls and bowls of them, and they were awesome. One or two mulberry trees on the southeast corner, which Dad cut down before we moved away, because when birds eat mulberries and then sit on Mom's clothesline, which birds are wont to do, they get purple bird poop all over whatever clothes are on the line.

There was also a crabapple tree by the rhubarb, which wasn't any good for eating, but provided things to throw at Jared (they had a tree in their yard too), and a few smallish lilac bushes on the east side of the house -- my main memory of the lilacs is that at some point, for reasons I maybe didn't even know at the time, Mom took me with her to break into a neighbor's house (oh yeah -- nobody locked their doors, but you should have guessed that) to leave a giant vase of lilacs on the neighbor's table. I don't even remember it being a neighbor we were especially friendly with, so it was kind of weird, and stuck in my mind. As far as I remember, it only happened the one time, too.

There was also a strawberry patch in the back yard, sort of in the center along the south side of the lawn. Like with the raspberries, when they ripened, they all ripened at once, and we used to have strawberries morning, noon and night for a week or so. They were awesome. Strawberries are bigger now than these were -- the huge mutant strawberries you can get in the grocery stores actually alarm me, sometimes -- but they're not any better. And God, I miss that kind of stuff, just having edible stuff just out growing in the yard, instead of getting them at the store. We didn't even have to work for the strawberries and raspberries, as far as I remember. They were just there.

What pisses me off is that none of this is still around: the neighbors not only bought the house to tear it down (which I understand it wasn't in the best shape anymore: despite what you may have heard, meth users aren't really fastidious house cleaners), but everything else got torn down at one time or another. The loss of the willow tree still pains me to think about, but that wasn't the neighbors, that was my uncle, who we sold the house to when we moved away, and he destroyed the tree rather than clean up the fallen branches. And Dad did the mulberries. But the rest -- the lilacs, rhubarb, walnuts, crabapples, raspberries, strawberries -- gone, at the neighbors' hands. I guess just so it would be easier to mow.

It makes the place kind of depressing to go back to, but there was also a little marker in the ground by the elementary school (where I went to kindergarten and first grade before they closed it for lack of students) saying that a time capsule was buried there. They'd put it in the ground in 1976 sometime, I forget the date, and they were going to open it on July 4, 2007. Which, growing up, I must have seen that marker hundreds of times, and 2007 would have been kind of abstract, but I figure I must have thought about it, what would I be doing in 2007, where would I be. I know I had to have done the math to figure out how old I'd be, though that would have been abstract, too -- when you're eleven, it's hard to visualize yourself much older than fourteen. I figured I owed it to my younger self to try to get back and see what was there, even though the objects in it wouldn't have had anything much to do with me -- my parents didn't contribute to the time capsule, so it would have just been some random 70s crap, other people's tastes, other people's memorabilia.

We got there too late, though. It was like 4 PM, and it had all been over some time before. Nobody around, no indication where the items might have been. A big area in the vicinity of the time capsule marker had been dug up; apparently nobody knew where it had actually been located. Which is funny. But otherwise, nothing. Just the neighbors, on a swing out in their back yard, which I could have gone and asked -- he used to be the mayor, and they knew the town, they would have known what happened. But I didn't feel up to dealing with them.

So in the end, there's just one more thing from my childhood that's not there anymore. All the plants are gone, the house is gone, and now the time capsule marker. It's not that there's nothing left, but even the things I remember are different -- I haven't been in the elementary school in maybe 20-25 years, and I don't know what they're doing with it now exactly but I think somebody's living in there. Maybe multiple someones. Also, there's a horse penned up in what used to be the school's back yard, right about where the slide used to be, which feels surreal.

I know you can't go home again, but still. Gosh. So much of the rest of the town is just like it was: only the stuff that was specific to me seems to be different.

This seemed like a good song for the occasion. It'll also be the beginning of a strawberry trilogy, even though I liked the raspberries better. (People don't write songs about raspberries so much.)

Possibly I should also note that slightly more liberties than usual have been taken with the song: normally I restrict myself to a fairly small number of changes¹, and it's still not like I rewrote it all from scratch or anything, but it's less like the lyrics that came back from Babel Fish than usual. Not that you'll notice.

-Jessi

¹rearrangement of word order; pluralization/depluralization; change of verb tense; deletion of words that just can't be made to fit into the song; addition/subtraction of articles (a, an, the); addition/subtraction of helping verbs and forms of "to be;" occasional reversion to the original word; changes of gendered pronouns. Most of these things are effectively randomized by the Babel Fish code to begin with.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The college worked it out through
grandpa. In my farm,
I thirsted for knowledge and had a car
stopped someplace. Yeah, I was agitated, in between a woman and summer --
a child finding the love of a wild one. We grow
in the banks of the river, in a well-beaten passage.
Those memories lasted; they were as funny as we were.

[a]
Seventeen: as the strawberry wine and
the hot moon of July capsizes everything,
my first taste of love was bitter candy,
as was the strawberry wine in the green grapevine.

I remember the thirty distillers well. When the elderly were
to go (when they had that mine), they were "Great September!" The fears
were absent: some cards, and letters, and an inter-urban call
that drifted. We were like fall foliage in the
place, but in the year after the year I came back to this,
only the taste of the strawberry wine was remembered.

[a]

The fields have grown an excess now, in the years since
the plough capsized them. That -- is not that,
that is nothing. The time didn't touch
my innocence, really, or -- is it that the loss of it is
so very lacking to me?

[a] [a]

Song of the Superman (Crash Test Dummies)

Language: Portuguese

The year 2007 is halfway over, as of today. I'm not a huge fan, but it's been a better year so far than some.

Grumpy at the moment because I was just out riding my bike, and a couple was jogging toward me on the sidewalk, and they didn't get out of my way so I had to get out of theirs. Rode off the sidewalk into some grass, and then when I went to get back on the sidewalk again, I didn't make a hard enough turn, so the front tire of my bike skidded along the edge of the concrete until the whole bike tipped over on its left and scraped up my left arm and both hands. I'm okay, but pissed all the same. Also the bike wasn't working quite right on the return trip, though that may or may not be major, or permanent.

Anyway. What we've got here is the bonus fourth song in the Superman trilogy. I probably like this song better than the other three; not that those ones are bad or anything, but I like the Crash Test Dummies aesthetic, and especially on the album this song is from (The Ghosts That Haunt Me), I think the CDT were doing a good job. Later on, they got a little less interesting to me, but that sort of thing happens.

-Jessi

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

Tarzan wasn't a man of the ladies:
it would only come longitudinally, and it would excavate them.
Under his arm quickly as that one, as a cat in the forest above.

Now Clark Kent had a real gentleman.
Wouldn't be stopped around in junglescape seat; none is as dumb as a monkey
that doesn't make nothing.

[a]
Superman never made all the money
that conserves Solomon Grundy's world, and at times I despair of the first world: never
will we see another man as he does.

Hey Bob, Supe had straight work,
that could've torn it into pieces through all the banks in the United States –
he had the force, but not.

The family said its peoples were all inoperative.
But Superman, he forced that disintegrated planet to continue,
to forget it and keep going to Krypton.

[a]

Tarzan was king of the forest, and the excess gentleman of all the monkeys,
but he could badly moor together four words:
"I Tarzan, You Jane."

The times when Supe stopped crimes,
I'll bet that the man was tempted to stop and turn his back part in,
join Tarzan in the forest.

But he remained in the city, and he remained in the clothes.
The change in dirty old telephone cabins finished its work; it didn't until
the rest had nothing to do but go in completely.

[a]

Or Superman (Laurie Anderson)

Language: Spanish

And the third song in the Superman trilogy. This didn't wind up all that far from the original song -- sometimes there isn't a lot to work with. That's how it is sometimes. I believe I've made my feelings for Laurie Anderson quite clear in a previous post; that kind of leaves me without a whole lot to say right now. Plus I've only just gotten up -- it's between 9:30 and 10 AM, but I haven't been sleeping well for the last four or five days. So I'm not really able to come up with much to say about this post.

Looking at the picture, there, I realize that the husband and I never did see that movie. We intended to. People said it was good at the time; I don't know whether or not it actually was. There just always seemed to be better things to do, somehow.

-Jessi

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

Superman's Mama, or Dad. And / or "Judge Dad."
Mama, or judge, or Papa and / or Mother. Or "Superhombre and Mother-Papa."
Hi.
I'm not homemade now.
But if you wish to leave a message, that speaks right at the beginning sound of the tone.
Hello? This one is its mother. Are you there? You're coming to the house?
Hello? He's a caretaker? Well, you don't know me, but I know him,
and I have a message to give him.
Here the planes come.
So you better get a list ready to go. You can come as you are, whereas you go pay.
But payment is as you go.

And I said: AUTHORIZATION. Who's this one, really?
And voiced this: This one is the hand, the hand that takes.
This one is the hand, the hand that takes. This one is the hand, the hand that takes.
Here come the planes. They are flat Americans; America, in fact. Smoking or not-smoking?
And voiced this: neither the snow, nor rain, nor the nightly discouragement,
will complete the fasts of these messengers. They remain
because of their designated round ones.

When the love goes away, there is always justice.
And when justice goes away, there is always force.
And when the force goes away, there is always Mother. Hi, Mother!

Hold me so, Mother, in your long arms.
Hold me so, Mother, in your long arms.
In your automatic arms, your electronic arms. In your arms.
Hold me so, Mother, in your long arms.
Your arms of petrochemical products. Your arms of the military. In your electronic arms.

Super Man (R. E. M.)

Language: Dutch

Part 2 of the Superman trilogy. The song here isn't terribly interesting, because the original repeats itself so much, but oh well.

I have yet to hear anything official, but I think it's safe to assume that I didn't get the job I interviewed for, and it probably has been safe to assume this for some time. I have mixed feelings about this, many of which are depression.

-Jessi

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

[a]
I'm a super man, I am, (Am I?) and I know what I happened.
I'm a super man, I am, and I can do, no matter what.

Do you make love with that guy? Now it's not really you.
I know that guy loves you, 'cause I see it exactly; you cannot.

[a]

[b]
I will trust you, little girl, if you leave me a million miles below, on
the way to your heart. Follow when I say I know.

[b]

[a] [a]

Superman (Sister 7)

Language: French

It's been such a long time since we had a good trilogy around here, don't you think? So here you go, the first (and most obscure) in a Superman trilogy. Why Superman? Because people name songs after him.

Sister 7 is an Austin, TX band, now split up, that a co-worker of mine a few jobs ago liked and introduced to the rest of us. This isn't their best song by a long shot¹, but you know how these things are. The lead singer, Patrice Pike, has gone on to have a solo career; I couldn't tell you what the other members of the band have done, not being a big follower of the Austin music scene. In any event, the CDs are still out there, though they're not easy to find and apparently never were.

This is the only video footage of the band I could find on YouTube. They do a little bit of "Superman" from about 7:55 to 6:55 remaining, but I'm pretty sure the whole song isn't in there. It's hard to tell for sure: it's been a long time since I actually heard the whole song myself. I'm not even 100% sure that the lyrics I used here are all the lyrics the song has. Call me irresponsible.



¹I liked "Nobody's Home," myself. "Bottle Rocket" was pretty awesome also.

-Jessi

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

I feel that, then.
To roll you up around me,
to note that I'm still awake.
The devil's laughing at me, counting each hour:
I only said that I loved you since you were leaving.
Then I speak a prayer in favor of
Mary: with the cause of anything, there's
Superman on the left, saying
"What I made could never save me!
Suffer with my twisted head!"
(You said that!)
You would run one defect above.

I guess your notification didn't
please, but – remain!
The heat of summer is surplus,
but I always need your chocolate jolt.
(Which I like it when you seem amused.)
I call you a word that you always liked,
but all your softness was employed, and I leave.

Saturn (Stevie Wonder)

Language: Russian

The last of the Planets Trilogy comes from Stevie Wonder, who is known to Babelfish as "Stevie Interest." At least, in Russian he is.

I don't know the original song, though, you know. It's Stevie Wonder. Probably the song is just fine. Of more interest to me at the moment are the lyrics here. I doubt Saturn's as hospitable as he says, but it's not like I wouldn't be willing to go check it out, on the off chance. 'Cause Earth mostly makes me sad.

-Jessi

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

Packing my bags, to go away
to the place where there's pure air, Saturn.
Will there be any feeling as we sit by people and observe them to die?
(Is this your road? What is war? We don't make our wars.)
We place all our things back
on Saturn.
Will anyone hold on to such feelings, and thereby make crimes?

Principles won't be in you; you speak
in any direction. You are the things which you make.
For your peace not to arrive soon,
all the large people learned about the end times.
Is it possible to purchase -- or sell -- truth and happiness, exactly?
Why are you people such cold ones? Say it to me.

I walk back to Saturn where everything incandesces in the ring:
rainbow, moonbeams and orange snow.
On Saturn, people
live in order to be 205!
Going back to Saturn, where people smile
(the reason we learned to fly automobiles
on Saturn)
in order to live exactly to our natural maximum.

They came here many times
earlier, to find your strategy: "war will be the peace."
Helplessly killing people, women and children:
they do not know they die for us. Even
they cannot trust you, when you assume
the gun and Bible in your hand, with
a cold expression. And your statements on
the side! "Give us our wants, or we will destroy."

I walk back to Saturn where everything incandesces in the ring:
rainbow, moonbeams and orange snow.
On Saturn, people
live in order to be 205!
Going back to Saturn, where people smile
(the reason we learned to fly automobiles
on Saturn)
in order to live exactly to our natural maximum.

Pluto (Bjork)

Language: French

Well okay. Um. Switching over to the new improved super-duper fantastico version of Blogger, which means lots of rearrangement of things and cleaning-up of spreadsheets and so forth. This seemed like an appropriate song for that.

Speculation on the internet is that this song is about getting drunk. There are some good arguments to be made for this. On the other hand, the video leads me to different conclusions. I don't know what the video is, you know, about, but I know it's a little disturbing.

Bjork always has the best videos.

-Jessi

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

Excuse me,
but I just must
burst --
burst this body
in addition to an ego.

Court-ooh
Oooooh (x4)

I'm new,
new:
tomorrow will
be a little tired, but new.

OOoooh!
Aaaaah!
Aaaaaah!
Woaahh!
etc.

Brides of Neptune (Cracker)

Language: German

Hi all. I know I've been slacking. Really it's just that various other hobbies are competing for my time, most notably the houseplant hobby / obsession. I'm sure it will get better eventually, but in the meantime, I have to say that it is nice to have some green things around, as the weather gets colder. Possibly I don't need seventy-seven green things. But still.

Meanwhile, there are a couple new items I'd like to direct your attention to, in the links: The Misadventures of Hello Cthulhu, though it seems to be, like Babelpop!, somewhat sporadically updated, is charming and funny and downright adorable and you should check it out as soon as possible. Unless you already knew about it. In which case, you should check it out whenever you get around to it.

The other one is Shemp Duchamp's "This is the New That." It's a lot easier to just go and look at it and figure out what it is than it is to continue reading my attempt to explain it, but it's basically a listing of the various combinations of the "The New Black" snowclone. I don't know how Shemp finds them, but in any case, it's sort of disorientingly amusing, or amusingly disorienting, to read through them.

Oh, and, I Babelfished a song, too.

-Jessi

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

She says that this is my film;
thus, you will do what I explain to you.
In Bali, she mixes up a gift –
you keep a hunted ape.

[a]
Brides of the cross, and Neptune's water,
get us your sons, and get your daughters for them.
I don't leave thee deep in the blue sea;
I'll take you to the house.

I tried to date one first;
she buys the first assistant's pot.
This mysterious charge
is still protected by apes.

then
[a x 4]

The brides of Neptune,
the brides of Neptune,

the brides of Neptune,
protected by the apes.

Baby Baby Baby Baby Baby (R. Kelly)

Language: Russian

As best as I can determine, this was never a single. It's from the self-titled album, so 1995ish. But in the context of the just-ended Baby Trilogy, how could I pass it up?

I don't think I have anything much to say about this song. I've never, to be honest, actually heard the original. And, while I've heard things about R. Kelly's sexual proclivities, I don't know enough about them to even say something uninformed, so I'll pass on that too.

-Jessi

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

(Spoken:)
You want that, baby? Anything that
your heart desires: anything,
because you're there for me (truly there for me).
I'll listen to you. Which pliability's it gonna be?

[a]
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby.

You gonna be a pliable girl? You want anything, I'll
raise it up. Because when my head was down, it was always from you that I
had an exhibition. I was completely in "The Love Store" for you; you're gonna
know that. Truly, you gotta lower yourself with me, oh.

[a]

You'll always be there for me, as no another homie: you'll
truly satisfy only my needs. (Which girl is it by? I know which.)
You was hanging downward from my side, when I was
holding you, and now you'll always be in my life, oh . . .

[a]

Taking me to church on Sunday morning is cold, girl,
because I certainly found blessings and happiness in you.
You're the darkness which shines up my day, G, when my will is for you
to understand. Oh, Lord, I thank my roads for you, because you, you --

[a]

Today when I break you, then I will see, 'k?
I'm mighty glad to know that you sent your love by Paradise Road.
It's something about that road: you make your loving when you're not making it.
And now, baby, I'll be loving you to forever, oh . . .

(Spoken:)
You were always there for doing me -- do you know I speak?
I assume you'll purchase something glorious outside today, so you're real.
I'm gonna be here for you as long as the day doesn't become night (which it will).

[a]

Yes, promise me that we won't divide my heart from the bottom:
let's say a prayer together, say a prayer together to the baby.
Can we tell the baby's father (together) to pray
for the artistic ones in paradise, who
hold this love together? The mole is me and you: that'll be
my prayer. Baby, baby, baby, I love you.

Baby Baby Baby (TLC)

Language: German

And now for the thrilling conclusion to the "baby" trilogy. . . .

The main thing I think about with respect to this song should be kind of obvious from the buildup thus far: how many "baby"s can a person fit into a song title before it becomes a joke? Opinions will differ, but I think anything more than three is excessive. Why? 'Cause threes seem "complete" to people. This is probably culturally determined. Maybe there's a culture somewhere where genies grant four wishes, and God is four persons in one, and so forth.

But I could be wrong.

This song kind of fell apart in translation, in a bad way, which happens sometimes. I'm going to blame the Germans.

-Jessi

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

And you wish for my love,
which is, well,
probably there for you morning, noon and night,
but you received goodness,
right? And it's
no time for part-time love in my life.

Would you like to be loved? Well, uh,
okay. He becomes
right with my sexuality, and falls in line with the cause,
but you received
a nickel to be applicable. You're receiving a
different cause, not receiving this "B time" for yourself, no.

[a:]
Oh baby, baby, baby:
I received as much
love in me, baby, baby, baby (Ooh, baby, baby), to
cause you to receive my will. If
you received me, dear, receive deeply.

My heart wells. I, uh, wish you
time, and my whole
understanding. Well, it's not there, if you cannot
employ a cause. (Which a girl like, uh, me
does not stand for less.)
I need my sex with much discussion.

[b:]
You know, I could possibly have a long man, since I wish that
the baby's based on actual facts. And who
decided you were around me? But I still
better work on you, so I don't flake it up, and . . .

Ohhhhhh

[a]

Baby, baby, baby:
there's no time for partial time. I love
to receive, but I did not receive as much love.
I love to be received, and
that becomes okay.

Baby, baby, baby --
a cause, if you will: I'm away from it. Receive
the deep love you received; I'll be
away for a long time. You receive me.

[b]

"My heart wells:" you wish.
And the whole time, my
understanding isn't there. Well it is: if you can't employ my
girl with a cause, as I do --
I do not stand for smaller ones;
I need much sex with my discussions.

[a]

Can I have each man whom I would possibly like?
And set aside time that I select too, to determine which?
I think you know that I would be with you, but . . . .

Yeah.
I'm actually here, and I'm rather based on facts. That
seems to run you straight back (which I also let that
order me away from you). To receive in
myself, to receive love, to receive love, I received it, to love myself.

[a]

Baby, baby, baby, it's time:
I would like to
determine whom to select (and I set that too),
but I think that you know that I would be with you (yeah).
Rather, I am actually here, and that is based on your facts.
You seem to let me run back.

Baby, Baby (Amy Grant)

Language: French

Shocking-confession time: I actually attended an Amy Grant concert, at about the time this song was popular (or maybe the song got big just after the concert: I don't remember). I don't really recall it much one way or the other; it was a good 15 years ago, but I probably had a good time. I also had the "Heart In Motion" album, where this song appeared, and may still -- some stuff got thrown out in the course of the most recent move, and some stuff didn't; I don't know where this album wound up. It doesn't seem likely that I could have sold it to a consignment store or anything, though: it was on a cassette, and the case was fucked up in some way or another.

So I guess what I'm saying is that my associations with this song all revolve around partial amnesia. Which is perhaps odd, but not necessarily inappropriate for a singer who abandoned her Christian audience and sold out for the chance at MTV videos in endless rotation and a chance to show cleavage and get divorced.¹

This is not necessarily a bad thing -- some of my favorite musicians actually started out as Christian artists and then moved on when they realized that they had talent of some kind². With Amy Grant, though, I do remember that it was a HUUUUUGE deal in the Christian world, Grant being the closest thing that Christian rock had to a superstar unless you're going to count, like, Carman, or Michael W. Smith, which let's please don't. There are, even now, people who believe that Amy Grant is going to a literal fire-and-brimstone kind of hell, to have her flesh seared for eternity, for singing songs like this one instead of songs which are explicitly about how cool Jesus is. Though perhaps not as many as there used to be, now that people have discovered how much money there is to be made by doing such things.

-Jessi

¹Or at least I think there was a divorce. Another case of my Amy Grant memories being a little fuzzy, apparently.
²Okay. Actually just one -- Sam Phillips, who used Leslie Phillips as her recording name when she was a Christian artist. And "talent" is possibly stretching it for Phillips, though I still like her stuff and listen to her occasionally; I don't know what the present critical consensus on her level of talent might be.

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

Baby, baby,
I am taken with the concept
of devotion to you, with the softest love.

Baby, the baby,
my tender love will rise from
most of the ocean into the deepest blue sky.

For a little stop,
baby, I'm so happy you are mine. Yes
you are mine.

Baby, the baby
is the first role for you. Hold a shine,
and they adore you. I'm sure of that, right as I am.

Baby, the baby,
the forest will walk by,
singing. A chorus of birds is above you.

For a little stop,
baby, they're so happy you're mine, oh yes,
and since moving day, my heart put you
above, to obtain you. (I realize that there is no baby, just that.)

Baby, the baby,
survive in any kind,
and I'm here for you always and always.

Baby, the baby
could divide a muscle man (which isn't
true, and never was). Isn't it my love for you?

For a little stop,
baby, I am so happy you are mine.
And since my heart is moving, you put the day
there, baby. I realize that that is just. You've nothing above to obtain.

And since you put my heart to moving, the day
is just to obtain you. Baby, I realize that there's nothing above that,
above you.

Baby, the baby,
always and for always.
Baby, I'm so happy that
the baby is so happy. Here for you,
baby of mine: are you?
I'm so happy that
when I think of you, it makes me the smiling baby.
Baby, you're my baby:
I'm so happy, baby, that
you don't cease giving love.
(Don't stop, no.)
Baby, I'm so happy that you're my baby, who
is happy thus. I'm
happy (I am so.), that
when I think of you, it makes me smile.

Baby (Rufus Wainwright)

Language: Dutch

It's time, I've determined, for another trilogy. This one will be the "baby" trilogy. Not 'cause I'm having a baby. Just because.

This song is not my favorite Rufus Wainwright by a long shot -- to me, the pacing feels all wrong. It's like it takes him considerably longer to sing the song than the song deserves. But whatever. It's fine.

-Jessi

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

This way nothing is clear, so nothing is smooth.
Nothing is pure (such
as my baby).

I dreamed each of my days all in one night of life, as if
I were my own baby.

My days were intertwined with darkness up to
your silver eyes,
my baby. Who's on my tail?

And since then, I can't see directly
(funnily?), and my false
problems smile then. Which I know since I
have one clean eye (that only sees by itself), but

if you bring along your needles,
then I'll bring my sharpened pencils,
and I'll draw my baby
a funnier tragedy.

Question the children this way: "Players,
will we rent the living room of Ms. Omhoog
and dance with
my baby?"

Ave Maria (traditional)

Language: Portuguese

This third song in the virgin trilogy was of course a bit more translated than usual: I was working off of what I'm told was a relatively literal English translation of the song. So the chain is, Latin to English to Portuguese to English.

My primary association with this song, not having been raised Catholic, is a pop-cultural one: I don't recall the context particularly, but I remember that Nell Carter, on "Gimme a Break," once took a ridiculous (considering how much airtime costs) amount of show time to sing it once, and it was very pretty the way she did it. That may well have been the first time I'd heard the song, and it's still kind of the way I expect to hear it, when I hear it, which is not very often.¹

The photo is from the Ugly Duckling car dealership in Clearwater, Florida, in 1996. There were apparently similar streaks on the building's other windows, but only this one looked like a figure in a hooded robe. The likely explanation is that the sprinkler system was throwing oil from the palm trees adjacent to the building up onto the glass, building up over time and forming rounded interference patterns. I think it's pretty, in an odd way, though not supernatural.

-Jessi

¹Carter's is kind of a tragic story, by the way. Check out the Wikipedia link.

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

They hail Mary of grace,
Mary, completely full of grace.
Hail Mary, full of the grace:
hail you, Sir. You are blessed with
women; you enter,
and bless, and bless,
the fruit of its womb
(of its womb).

Hail Mary de Jesús! Pray
so that we will pray for them (sinners).
Pray for us sinners
now, and in the hour of death,
and the hour of our death,
and the hour of our death,
and our hour of the
death of Mary. Hail!

For My Expectation (Rebecca St. James)

Language: Russian

Well. I didn't wake up this morning thinking, hey, I should do a virgin trilogy on Babelpop! today. But I guess it stayed on my mind, and now here we are.

This is also, I think, the very first CCM¹ song I've ever run through, and as such it's kind of special, I guess. The video (link) is harmless enough, as these things go. Basically trying to be Shania Twain but without all the sluttiness, and I suppose I don't mind that too much. I mean, if you can get past the idea of wanting to be Shania Twain, then wanting to be a Christian Shania Twain isn't really that big of an additional step.

Nevertheless, there's something kind of not right about this song, and this video. I think Babelpopping has actually led to something slightly insightful here: it's not about waiting, it's about expectations. Probably specifically, male expectations of deflowering a virgin, and patriarchal expectations that one's little girl is keeping herself pure for somebody (is it symbolic that Ms. St. James is being kept in a box, or just a bad pun?). And speaking of the box, isn't it a little strange that she's more or less being equated with decorative objects? I mean, those are the only other things in the box. And what's up with the ending? I mean, if they've been waiting for one another for the whole song, shouldn't they at least kiss? Or make eye contact, or talk about Jesus, or something?

That said, I have to give Ms. St. James points for being prettier than Shania Twain. We should all be blessed with such skin. (Actually, the guy is prettier than Shania Twain too, when you get right down to it. I mean, if we're going to be giving out points for physical appearance.) It's not an uncharming video, all things considered. But the message is kind of ooky.

Also, before you ask -- I have no idea where the "mole" in the first verse came from.

-Jessi

¹(=Contemporary Christian Music)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Darling, you know that
I dream about you:
your eyes in view
when we meet for the first time.
Darling, you know that I'm it,
(about your mole . . . )
which you will hold. (that mole . . . )
Content, your loving eyes for me,

I only wait to
pray for you, darling.
For my expectations, too,
I await you in proportion to myself. The expectations for me
I await. To me, they are
to pray for you, darling.
Expect it from me, too.
Expect it from me: I await you in proportion.
The expectation of a darling

life together. You knew about my darling dream;
(knowing they'll be forever:
I will be yours and you will be mine)
and darling, when I say I'll
make death part us, it will.
I intend it with all of my heart,
accurately, now and always to you.

I only wait to
pray for you, darling.
For my expectations, too,
I await you in proportion to myself. The expectations for me
I await. To me, they are
to pray for you, darling.
Expect it from me, too.
Expect it from me: I await you in proportion.
The expectation of a darling

error. I know you can complete it now.
But there will be forgiveness, and the second chance,
therefore: my expectation for a darling,
my expectation,
my expectation.

As a Virgin (Madonna)

Language: German

Well, a few good lines here and there. I think "like a virgin / all affected during the first time" came out nicely.

Does true love, in fact, wait? It's been my experience that the answer is not so much "yes" or "no" as "yes, but:" as in, "Yes, but not indefinitely, and it still makes plans."

One concept that's emerged in the last ten to fifteen years that amuses me is that of "secondary virginity." Secondary virginity is the way that the Christian evangelicals try to make girls anxious about losing their virginity when they've already lost it: methods vary, but the most basic idea is that, having already lost one's virginity, it can be partially reclaimed by the decision to just not have any more sex until marriage, which in some spiritual realm or another restores the virginity. This is also known as the "Once, Twice, Three Times a Virgin" method of abstinence, and I don't expect it ever to be particularly mainstream 'cause it's so silly. Though I've been wrong about the mainstream's tolerance for silly before.

Boys are not so much into the secondary virginity thing, as a rule.

I'm not really sure what to make of the picture above. Apparently, while true love is waiting, one gardens.

-Jessi

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

I formed it in the wilderness.
Somehow, through it I
couldn't form. I was lost
until I was you.

The impact,
is which. I had became incomplete;
I was blue, sadly,
but you educated me to feel
formed and shining. You feel me? Yeah.

Like a new-found virgin,
who was all affected during the first time.
Like a virgin,
near my –

My whole love is going to be given, boy;
your heart impacts my fear.
You're fading fast, saving it, which can all last for you.
Only a "love cause,"

it is so my form, and
my form is fat-strong: yeah, it's fine.
Oh, their love thawed out,
yeah, their love thawed out,
what was frightened of cold weather.

Like a virgin,
all affected during the first time.
Like a virgin,
with your impacted heart near my –

Oooh! Oooh! Oooh!

And thus you are mine. (Are you, finely,
until the end of the time?) I did not form it, which
formed you. I caused a feeling for
you. Yeah, I'm believing myself:
I have to hide anything.

Like a virgin,
all affected during the first time.
How does a virgin
impact, with your heart near my –

Believe like a virgin,
ooh, ooh like a virgin.
So if you hold me inside: good,
and your heart impacts, and you can love me.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,
Ooh, baby.
You mean the heart didn't impact
to hear, all during the first time?

Boasted Blue Overcoat (Leonard Cohen)

Language: Dutch

I'm afraid I don't have much of a comment on this one. I'm not even terribly familiar with the original version.

This counts as the third and final installment of the Rain trilogy because the original song mentions rain. More accurately, a raincoat, but let's don't quibble. I actually wanted to do "Wicked Rain," by Los Lobos, but I couldn't find lyrics and it was easier to pick a different song than it was to track them down. I'm not terribly disappointed with how it turned out, though it seems a little rough to me.

Yesterday was my first exposure to the new job. It bears an unfortunate resemblance to the old job.

-Jessi

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It's four in the morning, the end of December to me.
You write now only to see, or to improve.
New York is cold, but I love where I'm living there:
the musical "Clinton" is on the street by the evening.

I hear that you built your small house. Now, the desert deeply
keeps you living for nothing. I hope one or the other of you types up the report.

Yes, and Jane came with a lock of your hair;
they said that you gave it to her. Beyond
that is the night. You were going clearly of which plan?
Did you ever go clearly?

Ah, the last time we looked at you this way, you were more parental (which
your boasted blue overcoat was torn at the shoulder),
you'd try to ("have to") meet the mail. Each train has
Lili, and you'd come to the house without Marlene.

And you, my woman, lived your life. A treat, a flake of --
and then she returned: she was nobody, a woman.

Well, I see you within your cogs,
one thinner gypsy. The robber
increased there, I see. Well, Jane's awake.

They send regards to it,
and to what is possible. I told you, my brother, my assassin,
what can I say? Perhaps
I assumed that you miss me, or I you.
I am forgiving you, in my manner. She's glad.

If you ever pass Jane or me,
your enemy will sleep, and its woman is freer here.

Yes, and thanks for the eye problem you took from her.
I thought it was there for good, so I never tried that.

And Jane came with a lock of your hair;
they said that you indicated her
clearly that night, that you were planning to go.

Only Lucky If It Rains (Garbage)

Language: German

Unfortunately, the second song in the Rain trilogy isn't my best work, and the better parts of it are the ones where I diverged the most from the Babelfished text. While it's true that they can't all be gems, the whole lucky/happy switcheroo loses novelty fast, and I doubt this is going to inspire anybody to bump up the ends of the amusement. Maybe next time.

-Jessi

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

I'm lucky: it's only mine if
it rains, only if it's difficult.
I know that you can't estimate it,
which is only lucky for me if it rains.

You know the messages are bad. I love it! If
it believes thus, well, why believe thus? Sadly,
I'm only lucky.

Your misery rains down; you're pouring
your misery down on me; you pour
your misery down; pour
your misery down on me; pour.

Believe me, I'm only lucky if it rains.
Things only go that well if I'm wrong.
To the sad, sad songs you hear,
which are only lucky if it does not rain on me.

I only smile in the darkness,
which is my only comfort. Gone into the black night,
inadvertently, I explained that to you.
I'm only lucky, if

you receive the announcement: "Rain, until I'm through,
weigh me against myself, and if you
are lucky, I'll be alone."

Your misery rains down; you're pouring (you pour your misery down).
Pour your misery down on me (you pour your misery down),
pour your misery down (you pour it down, miserably),
pour your misery down on me (you pour your misery down),
pour your misery down (you pour your misery down),
pour your misery down on me (you pour your misery down),
pour your misery down

You can hold me so long (for company):
so how are you not interested?

You are lucky it liked me; I'm only over if
my new obsessions hear the rain.
I'll ride strongly after the deepest, lowest point,
which is only lucky for me if it rains. (You poured something -- misery? -- down on me.)

I'm only lucky if it is (You poured something -- misery? -- down on me.),
I'm only lucky if it is (You poured something -- misery? -- down on me.),
I'm only lucky if it is (You poured something -- misery? -- down on me.),
I'm only lucky if it rains, rains (You poured something -- misery? -- down on me.).

Here Comes Rain (Eurythmics)

Language: Spanish

That radar picture is moderately current, or at least it was when I began to post this. Iowa City seems to have had an unusually wet, cool, and stormy summer this year. I'm sure that's bad for somebody or another (farmers?), but I like it. In fact, it's pretty much what I look for in a summer.

This song has a bad tendency to get stuck in my head, particularly when it's raining for real. There's a whole set of them, actually:

Another Song About the Rain (Cracker)
Red Rain (Peter Gabriel)
Rain (Madonna)
Driving in the Rain (John Wesley Harding)
I Can't Stand the Rain (Tina Turner)
I'm Only Happy When It Rains (Garbage)
I Wish it Would Rain (Nanci Griffith)
No Rain (Blind Melon)
Purple Rain (Prince)

Which means probably we're looking at a Rain Trilogy happening. And that's good. There hasn't been a trilogy in a while.

-Jessi

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

here comes the rain again
that falls in my head again, like a memory
that lowers my head like a new emotion
that desire to walk in the open wind,
a desire to speak lovingly
I wish to plunge myself in his ocean
I am he with whom you rain

loving me as a baby
so walk with me to it
as the lovers
Speak with me,
since the lovers do.

Here comes the rain, that rain again
in my head, like a tragedy that
tears me a new emotion to separate (like "Oooooh")
that desire to breathe in the open wind
desire to kiss me lovingly
I wish to plunge in his ocean
I am he with whom you rain

char it, baby, to me
so lovingly

Here comes the rain, that falls again
in my head like a memory, that
lowers my head as a new emotion.
(it comes here again, he comes here again)
That desire to walk in the open wind,
desire to speak lovingly:
I wish to plunge myself in his ocean.
I am he with whom you rain

O, in Proportion to You (Nirvana)

Language: Russian

What the hell. There was a morbid thing happening, so we may as well turn it into a new trilogy, right? And there's not much that fits the bill better than Kurt Cobain singing about guns. The song in general wound up pretty literal, but I like what happened with the chorus.

-Jessi

O, in proportion to you, in proportion to who you were,
In proportion to who I want you to be.
As a friend, as a friend, as an old enemy.
Accept the time. Hurry upward, by your selection.
Don't you be the last one. Accept rest as a friend.
Old memory. (memory, memory, memory)

Arrive dowsed in proportion to mud. It's sustained by bleach.
I want you to be a tendency, in proportion to friendship.
In proportion to old memory. (memory, memory, memory)

I swear that I do not have a gun.
In no way do I have a gun, in no way.
I have a memory of a gun.

Memory, memory, the memory (don't have a gun).

I swear that I do not have a gun. In no way do I have a gun.
In no way do I have a gun. In no way do I have a gun.
In no way do I have a gun. Memory, memory...

It Needs You This Evening (INXS)

Language: French

Time for an SAT question!

What word best completes the sentence?

Depeche Mode is to religion as INXS is to __________________.

A. Australia
B. chicks
C. sex
D. Michael Hutchence

(see end of post for the answer)

Answer to question: C (sex)

All INXS songs are about sex¹ in some fashion or another, with the possible single exception of "Listen Like Thieves," but as with Depeche Mode's treatment of religion, they rarely progress the song beyond "I want to have sex with you" or "you should want to have sex with me." All talk, no consummation. In fact, a surprising number of INXS songs don't even specify a gender for the object of the song ("Bitter Tears," "Disappear," "Don't Change," "Mystify," "Never Tear Us Apart," "New Sensation," "Not Enough Time," "What You Need"), instead using what I like to think of as The K. D. Lang You™. Deliberate? Closeted songwriter? The mind almost reels at the possible explanations.

If you answered B (chicks), give yourself half credit. They do try to give the impression that it's all about the chicks.

-Jessi

¹ At least those up until Michael Hutchence died in 1997, after which I totally lost interest. What do you suppose is up with the recent morbid turn in these introductions, huh?

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

You're everything. You obtained
this twenty-first moment yesterday. Century of
worry: "all you can want."
It's a fact that everyone does well.

Slide here and give me one moment; thus,
your movements are believable. So when
have I made you know
each other? I have made you know that
each is another of my kind.

I need you this evening;
don't sleep. I cause. . .
something. The girl is there, among you,
who incites me to sweat.

How do you feel
to me? Am I alone?
What do you think
all cannot take?
Whatcha going to him
for? To make it go?