Commons

I go where the bridges go: to the fog sunrise of the Presidio, to the open field (christened "crissy") lapped with bayfog smog water.

Eyes. I am eyes.

I am transparent eyes all seeing seaside in the seconds between each crash. There is silence there and it is a lifetime.

Pending Job Application

from Timothy ODonnell to writerapps@pitchfork.com date Thu, Jul 15, 2010 at 12:29 PM subject i will review your albums.

I will be your record reviewer. Here is a little about myself: I have been on television. Would it help if I hated Tim Kinsella? I could make it happen.

All further information that you have requested can be located here on this very popular blog:

ifoundthistape.blogspot.com

We can discuss payment options (you to me) at a later time.

Thank you and good luck.

Tim

Best Music of 2010 Expressed in Mathematic Equations

1. (P/h8)(RZA + bI) = "My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy" by Kanye West

2. (SbSS + iiiii) - Jarboe = "My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky" by Swans

3. M^B = "Daughters" by Daughters

4. SR/|nSR| = "Shut Up, Dude" by Das Racist

5. dN(dN + (MIA/n)) = "Treats" by Sleigh Bells

6. SbSS + dN = "LeNoise" by Neil Young

Wherein:
B = Boredoms
bI = Bon Iver
dN = digital noise
h8 = I hate myself for it
iiiii = repetitive, industrial minimalism
M = McLusky
MIA = MIA
n = not
P = I am such a pervert
RZA = RZA
SbSS = sad-bastard singer-songwriter
SR = serious rap

nothing is untrue

when I die I will force myself to wake in a basement years ago wrapped in blankets and darkness and your warmth will seep whispering its alright you can fall asleep and I'll drift back and after I'm gone we'll drive through the rain and the hills to sit in front of a fire watching magic and listen to the singer sing nothing is untrue

Categories

A rhinoceros's eyes are on the side of its head, and a rhinoceros's skin is made of scales.
But they don't categorize by a rhinoceros's eyes, so its a mammal instead of a lizard.

My babies make me who I am.

Sappy Songs

We were all punks once. All safety pins and patches. Idealism. Pedagogy.

But now that we are older, new ideas are old memories, and because we're out of practice, we tend to iron out the wrinkles in our collars each morning.

More Goddamn Blogs

I have yet another blog, called March Madnesses. This time, my solipsism takes the form of a bracket.