"Were I to choose an auspicious image for the new millennium, I would choose that one: the sudden agile leap of the poet-philosopher who raises himself above the weight of the world, showing that with all his gravity he has the secret of lightness, and that what many consider to be the vitality of the times—noisy, aggressive, revving and roaring—belongs to the realm of death, like a cemetery for rusty old cars."
— Italo Calvino, from the Lightness essay in Six Memos for the Next Millennium (via viafrank)
(via viafrank)
I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about death recently — not intentionally, but it just keeps cropping up in the films I’m watching and the books I’m reading. Or in this case, the music I’m writing.
Below are the lyrics to a song I’ve been working on for Six Songs for the End of the World: an EP that I’ve started, abandoned, restarted, rewritten, and semi-re-abandoned over the past two years. Honestly, a part of me thinks I’ll never get my act together enough to actually finish and record this stuff, but another part hopes that I still might, someday. At least it gives me something to hum to myself as I walk down the street.
Anywho. Have some post-apocalyptic blues.
———
Waltzed in into this town
Beneath dark clouds where the silence stares you down
Come on and sing your sin
We’re spilling blood; we’re splitting hydrogen
I know you think the day’s enough
But when the sun goes down, the moon comes up, yeah
Sky don’t look much like snow
But I hear it’s gonna be a long winter so
When you look up and see the sign
Oh won’t you lay your atoms next to mine
So come on come on and race the sunlight down
Come on come on and race the sunlight down
Don’t you know someone someday somewhere’s gonna take your breath away
So better run while you can
Because the night makes the man
Waltzed in into this town
Our heads held up; the bombs came down
Burrowing into your dreams
Let the acid rain wash your acid-wash jeans
And they’re wolves in woolen clothes
Well I can’t be held responsible for those
Who wanna tear down what we’re making
Well my heart is pure; it’s for the taking
So come on come on and race the sunlight down
Come on come on and race the sunlight down
Don’t you know someone someday somewhere’s gonna take your breath away
So better run while you can
Before the light burns the land
Lord won’t you send me an answer; here I’m waiting
‘Cause time’s evaporating
((bridge!))
Come on come on come on come on
The sun goes down, the moon comes up, yeah
If so, have any recommendations? I’ve recently started reading again in large amounts (I went through several thousand pages last month), and now I’m itching for something to follow, rather than to devour all at once.
I’m also just curious about the form…has it disappeared? Serial publishing was a huge thing in 19th century literature: most of Dickens’ novels, for instance, were originally published chapter by chapter in various magazines, as were the majority of Sherlock Holmes stories. To the best of my (admittedly limited) knowledge, though, it’s almost non-existant today — the only thing that even comes close is the comic book. Maybe some forms of online publishing, as well. (Fanfiction?)
Is anyone still writing literature that unfolds in issue after issue, in print or online?
