THE GREAT GADFLY:

Money Goes To Money Heaven

As a two-birds-with-one-stone attempt to celebrate my upcoming transition while cheering myself up after the news of transitions on a far greater scale, I went out yesterday and bought the season one box of Alias, the first Tin Machine CD and one of them there fancy filtered water pitchers.

In the first two episodes of Alias I watched last night, Sydney Bristow kicked SIX people in the head, three of whom she also racked in the nuts as a special bonus. I hope in the next season of this show, she has a nervous breakdown and goes rampaging down a busy city street, spinning around like a whirling dervish and randomly kicking dozens of people in the head as a particularly schitzy Aphex Twin soundtrack plays in the background.

As for the Tin Machine thing, well, what can I say. I'm impatient about the new Bowie album coming out next week and I need a fix. Something. Anything. I want a feast - a fucking BEAN feast, okay - and if I can't have it, I'm going to SCREAM, you hear? So to keep me from trolling the P2P mine fields, I decided to give 1989's Tin Machine album another go 'round. I didn't like this album when it first came out twelve years ago (good grief), but I can deal with it now. At best, it reminds me of Bowie's rocked-out, pre-Ziggy meanderings. At worst, it reminds me of barbecue rock. I've read gushing testimonials of this record, claiming the La Bowie predicted the forthcoming grunge craze with Tin Machine. I certainly wouldn't go that far...

As for the inspiration behind the filtered water pitcher thingie, well, I dunno. I'm trying to drink healthier things than DiCoLem and french roast coffee - I actually bought a pound of decaf last night (did I already say "good grief"?), I've also been turned on to the wonders of yerba mate, and now I've decided to keep my tender pink innards all nice and flushed out with a clean cold glass of water every now and again, all in the name of health. Who knows how long this will last? As a rule, I'm pretty adamantly anti-health, but going this route seems to be a way of flushing out all the ick of the nine-to-five drudgery that will be passing out of my life this week.

Oh, and hey - I also scored a used copy of the new Kraftwerk album. Yes, that's right - NEW KRAFTWERK ALBUM. Unfortunately, typing those words is more exciting than listening to the actual goods. It can be filed somewhere between "obnoxious muzak in ludicrous trendy clothing store" and "New Order karaoke". Still, there's something wonderful about hearing those dispassionate droning voices again, even if the aural surroundings are a bit precious.

On that note, I have no kicky ending for you today, only some fragrant advice: get some unusual-but-yummy smelling big bars of soap to put in your bathroom and/or kitchen. There can be few nicer treats than coming home from a long, assy day at work and being greeted by the smells of verbena and peppermint. Delicious.