Friday, December 16, 2005

Howl


End of another day. End of a bloody awful day that can only be described with the f*** word and its imaginative variations. A day that can only be retrieved in the company of friends. Of old friends. With coffee and smokes and a drink. Or two. And foul-mouthed conversations where we describe in minute graphic detail the genealogies, birth processes, anatomical peculiarities and horrible fates of certain humanoids (or at least I do some describing). Perhaps, to make it quite perfect, a late-night wander around that skein of roads by the Lakes, passing around a cigarette among three or four of us, with some good-natured invective when one of us hangs on to it too long.

Instead of which, I have to get inside a fresh shirt. AND a tie AND a jacket. And go grin and mouth inane pleasantries at THREE Oedipal (do I need to translate that?) do-s. Oh death where is thy sting!


So this is NOT a good time to pump up the volume on “Black Dog”. Robert Plant sings as if a bradawl is being inserted into his rectum, but he manages to make it sound like good clean cathartic (emetic?) fun. (And on my new Bose speakers – yes yes yes observe me gloat! – I can hear every frickin’ note as John Paul and Jimmy P let it rip).

Because great rock is anarchy. It’s about telling the world to “go f*** yourself”. It’s about not giving a big rat’s ass. Because it makes me want to pull open the door to my office and throw things at the morons outside. With a Billy Idol sneer and a wolf howl and a back-arching pelvic-thrusting head-banging riff on air guitar.

And I can’t DO that tonight. Somebody put me out of my misery

**** ****

8 comments:

Falstaff said...

JAP: My sympathy. At times like this the only thing that consoles us, sustains us, is the thought of free alcohol. Of all the things that rock was about, it was also about being very, very high.

Meanwhile, can I please tell you that I hate you for reminding of Plant & co. at 8 o clock in the morning of a really busy day. It's at least twelve hours before I can get home and put LZ on the stereo. And the one thing I don't need while trying to write an academic paper is the lyrics to Communication Breakdown running through my head.

km said...

Heh heh, someone's got a case of Mondays.....on a Friday?!

The day I can't play a Zeppelin album is the day I shuffle off this mortal coil.

krishna

Quizman said...

Bose speakers? YOu've gone lower end now? Sniff....

Webmiztris said...

that bad, huh? :)

I've had those days....

Prerona said...

wow! that should cheer you up :D
hope you feeling better. smile. its ok.

i went to w&b finally - as ordered.no ghost in site, though!

Progga said...

Bose, didja say? Wowza.
And can I tell you that you're turning my conception of the Indian - particularly the Bengali - government officer right onto its head?!

Anonymous said...

bose!? is that not enough tocheer you up?
and echo progga!

La Figlia Che Piange said...

You might not appreciate this right now, but this post and the other society post, are very Prufrockian. You know, the didillussionment, ektu anger. Very apt.