Info

by Christopher Mudiappahpillai

Edit: Thursday, 11:50 A.M.

Huh… This post was an accident. Happened while I was testing out some new software. For my lovely PowerBook!

Anyway, since it’s here. Hello! How’re you doing today? Glad to hear it. If you’re well, that is. Otherwise, sorry, hope you feel better soon.

And here’s a song. I’m really loving this Cardigans album right now. It’s taken up semi-permanent (How do you spell that? Permanant? Permanent?) residence in my stereo, along with Redemption Songs and an old but still excellent Sixpence None The Richer.

Good times… Good times.

Communication
Cardigans
From the album, Long Gone Before Daylight

For 27 years I’ve been trying
To believe and confide in
Different people I found

Some of them got closer than others
And some wouldn’t even bother
And then you came around

I didn’t really know what to call you
You didn’t know me at all
But I was happy to explain

I never really knew how to move you
So I tried to intrude through
The little holes in your veins
And I saw you

But that’s not an invitation
That’s all I get
If this is communication
I disconnect

I’ve seen you, I know you but I don’t know
How to connect
So I disconnect

You always seem to know where to find me
And I’m, still here behind you
In the corner of your eye

I never really learnt how to love you
But I know that I love you
Through the hole in the sky
Where I see you

And that’s not an invitation that’s all I get
If this is communication
I disconnect

I’ve seen you, I know you
But I don’t know
How to connect
So I disconnect

Well this is an invitation
It’s not a threat
If you want communication
That’s what you get
I’m talking and talking
But I don’t know

How to connect

And I hold
A record for being patient
With your kind of hesitation

I need you, you want me
But I don’t know how to connect
So I disconnect

I disconnect

One last thing.

Remember that fuss I made about the gold glove? Well, here’s the cherry on top to that three scoop banana split of mistake: I took a look at my (digital) copy of Wodehouse’s The Golden Bat and found to my chagrin that it’s actually The Gold Bat.

Such is life.