I received a call from the director of the Western Michigan University's Waldo Library last Wednesday. Unfortunately, I happened to be at lunch when she called. Apparently she just left her name and phone number, pointing out that it was a long-distance call. She didn't say where she was from or what she wanted; I had to google her name to figure out where she was from. So I called her back after lunch, and got her voice mail. I left my name and number, but did not receive a call back. Thursday afternoon, I got off work early, and I left ANOTHER voice mail, leaving my home phone, letting her know that I would be there all day Friday as well. I have yet to hear from her. This is so frustrating. I don't even know how enthusiastic I would be about working at Western; going there for three years out of high school left me overweight and extremely depressed. On the plus side, it's only a couple hours from my folks, a couple hours to the home in Indiana, and four hours to Chicago. I'd also have a car, so I could flee Kalamazoo as I required, an option that wasn't available to me when I attended the university as a student. I do know that there is a bit of a gay scene, or at least two bars and a bookstore, and I'm almost certain that all the odious trolls who salivated over me a), have moved away; or b), would no longer be interested in me. Waldo Library was probably my favorite place on campus during my time there, in spite of the pink bathroom tile that adorned the building's exterior, and by the time I transferred to Wayne State, I had close to $100.00 in library fines, and my transcripts were put on hold until I paid them. WMU is also trying to assert itself as more of a research institution, and that's the sort of place that I would like to work. (That or a community college, where faculty take librarians more seriously, and you get the summers off.) This interior monologue signifies nothing, of course, if the woman never returns my phone calls. I may give it one last try tomorrow.
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On the 20 Jazz Funk Greats blog, they've posted the original version of the song that would become Plastic Bertrand's classic "Ca Plane Pour Moi".
Surprisingly Plastic Bertrand was unable to find any authentic punk rock musicians in Belgium in 1977.It's a fabulous, disturbing little song, and, let's be honest, that really is an awesome... tune's not really the right word, since there really isn't any. At any rate, it has a good beat, and I can dance to it. I recommend checking the song out.
Enter Elton Motello, penniless punk refugees they played as the backing musicians on Ca Plane Pour Moi which they had already written as their own boy meets boy, boy gives boy blowjob, boy falls in love (boys are so fickle), boy meets girl, other boy is heartbroken, typical Shangri la's tragic love song. [sic]
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I've been listening to an import re-release of Echo & the Bunnymen's Ocean Rain recently. It had been recommended to me by the clerk when I bought my first E&tB cassette (Crocodiles) in 1986, but I never got around to checking it out. Why it took me so long to buy it is completely beyond me; it is a thing of beauty. Echo & the Bunnymen were the first concert I ever went to (I'm not counting seeing The Monkees with my mom when I was 11, although I thoroughly enjoyed the concert and still have a great deal of affection for the Prefab Four); Julie was there, and it was only much later that she told me that that was the night her parents chose to tell her that they were getting a divorce. I don't remember the concert very well, except we were in some nose-bleed seats, and they played a cover of "Paint it Black". It's funny how rarely Echo & the Bunnymen are mentioned when people talk about '80s post-punk; The Cure, The Smiths, Wire, Gang of Four are always mentioned, but never the Bunnymen. Which would make sense, except Ocean Rain really is an amazing, textured, ambitious album, that deserves to be heard by more people.
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Library Rants posted a link to the Vampire Name Generator. Blah! Blah! Just call me Tsarry O'Moldovia, me boyo! Blah! Blah!
The Great Archives determine you to have gone by the identity:
Tsar of Moldovia
Known in some parts of the world as:
Thanatos of The Gibbet Crossroads
The Great Archives Record:
Shudder! Shudder! Fear what you cannot know!
Speaking of which, there is (allegedly) a vampire terrorizing the streets of Birmingham, England:
According to the rumours, he bit a man walking along the street, then pounced on neighbours who came to his aid. One woman is said to have had a "chunk" bitten out of her hand. Local media have since been inundated with calls from people in the city's Saltley, Small Heath and Alum Rock areas, who have heard of attacks and of people being bitten after answering their front doors.
But West Midlands police believe they are dealing with a tall tale rather than a prowling bloodsucker.
They are baffled by the lack of forthcoming victims. "To date we have not received any reports from people stating they have been bitten. This appears to be an urban myth," a spokesman told the Birmingham Evening Mail. Those who claim to have seen the attacker say he is black and in his late 20s. Although police think he is probably nothing more than a bogeyman, some residents are no longer sure what to believe.
via Whedonesque.
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Song: Echo & the Bunnymen, "Silver".
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