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this is a Jerry Springer moment
Jan. 9th, 2005 12:23 amWe've been watching Jerry Springer: The Opera which was televised earlier this evening.
I have to get a copy. That was magnificent. Sung throughout like a totally serious opera, despite the base material, and with excellent voices. Producers of the Phantom of the Opera film, take note; this is what good opera singing is supposed to sound like. These are good voices.
Oh yes.
Otherwise; took advantage of sales, bought kitchen knives, chopping board, and some rather nice Italian glasses. The pile in the corner of my bedroom continues to grow.
Also got iPod protective case, which is admittedly less important, but in the short term is greatly appreciated.
And black thread. Must remember to secure button on jacket before wearing it again.
I really should remember never to judge people. Yesterday while checking to see who the "celebrities" on Celebrity Big Brother were (look, the coworker sitting next to me is a fan and enjoys it, so it makes life easier if I have at least some idea about what's going on in it) I found out that one of the participants was Germaine Greer. I mention this casually to my coworkers, not being entirely sure what the general opinion was about her (I read The Female Eunuch at school and liked it) and found out that one of my coworkers met her while doing a sit-in while a student at Oxford.
I would not have expected that coworker to have been at Oxford. Or to have engaged in sit-ins while there. Or to have met Germaine Greer.
One of these days I will learn not to judge people.
---
One Cigarette
No smoke without you, my fire.
After you left,
your cigarette glowed on in my ashtray
and sent up a long thread of such quiet grey
I smiled to wonder who would believe its signal
of so much love. One cigarette
in the non-smoker's tray.
As the last spire
trembles up, a sudden draught
blows it winding into my face.
Is it smell, is it taste?
You are here again, and I am drunk on your tobacco lips.
Out with the light.
Let the smoke lie back in the dark.
Till I hear the very ash
sigh down among the flowers of brass
I'll breathe, and long past midnight, your last kiss.
-- Edwin Morgan
I have to get a copy. That was magnificent. Sung throughout like a totally serious opera, despite the base material, and with excellent voices. Producers of the Phantom of the Opera film, take note; this is what good opera singing is supposed to sound like. These are good voices.
Oh yes.
Otherwise; took advantage of sales, bought kitchen knives, chopping board, and some rather nice Italian glasses. The pile in the corner of my bedroom continues to grow.
Also got iPod protective case, which is admittedly less important, but in the short term is greatly appreciated.
And black thread. Must remember to secure button on jacket before wearing it again.
I really should remember never to judge people. Yesterday while checking to see who the "celebrities" on Celebrity Big Brother were (look, the coworker sitting next to me is a fan and enjoys it, so it makes life easier if I have at least some idea about what's going on in it) I found out that one of the participants was Germaine Greer. I mention this casually to my coworkers, not being entirely sure what the general opinion was about her (I read The Female Eunuch at school and liked it) and found out that one of my coworkers met her while doing a sit-in while a student at Oxford.
I would not have expected that coworker to have been at Oxford. Or to have engaged in sit-ins while there. Or to have met Germaine Greer.
One of these days I will learn not to judge people.
---
One Cigarette
No smoke without you, my fire.
After you left,
your cigarette glowed on in my ashtray
and sent up a long thread of such quiet grey
I smiled to wonder who would believe its signal
of so much love. One cigarette
in the non-smoker's tray.
As the last spire
trembles up, a sudden draught
blows it winding into my face.
Is it smell, is it taste?
You are here again, and I am drunk on your tobacco lips.
Out with the light.
Let the smoke lie back in the dark.
Till I hear the very ash
sigh down among the flowers of brass
I'll breathe, and long past midnight, your last kiss.
-- Edwin Morgan
