The Lengths

Tell me what you were thinkin’,
To treat somebody so,
The care he took,
The lengths to which he’d go.

I Love Foo Fighters

I love how Foo Fighters have such a wacky sense of humor. I like how almost all their music videos are funny and spoofy.

Learn to Fly

This is one of my favourite watch-when-sad videos ever. Seeing Dave Grohl like this:

And Taylor Hawkins with cleavage:

is enough to make the childish kid inside me laugh madly for hours.

Then you have Walk, which features Nate Mendel in a cute headpiece:

And a funny exchange when Grohl’s character is enraged at the size of his burger compared to the advertised one.

Finally, this isn’t from any of their music videos, but here’s the Foo Fighters soaping each other up:

Origin of Love

Last time I saw you
We had just split in two.
You were looking at me.
I was looking at you.
You had a way so familiar,
But I could not recognize,
Cause you had blood on your face;
I had blood in my eyes.
But I could swear by your expression
That the pain down in your soul
Was the same as the one down in mine.
That’s the pain,
Cuts a straight line
Down through the heart;
We called it love.

So we wrapped our arms around each other,
Trying to shove ourselves back together.
We were making love,
Making love.
It was a cold dark evening,
Such a long time ago,
When by the mighty hand of Jove,
It was the sad story
How we became
Lonely two-legged creatures,
It’s the story of
The origin of love.
That’s the origin of love.

Inspired by Aristophane’s speech in Plato’s Symposium

(500) Days of Summer

Had a bit of free time recently and I rewatched (500) Days of Summer. I’ve always found this scene between Tom Hansen and Summer Finn to be especially affecting.

Summer: I woke up one morning and I just knew.
Tom: Knew what?
Summer: What I was never sure of with you.

Look at him – you can almost see his heart breaking at 2.44min. 😦

Come as you are

Come as you are, as you were
as I want you to be
As a friend, as a friend
as an old enemy

And I swear that I don’t have a gun
No I don’t have a gun
No I don’t have a gun

Nicholas was

Nicholas was

older than sin, and his beard could grow no whiter. He wanted to die.

The dwarfish natives of the Arctic caverns did not speak his language, but conversed in their own, twittering tongue, conducted incomprehensible rituals, when they were not actually working in the factories.

Once every year they forced him, sobbing and protesting, into Endless Night. During the journey he would stand near every child in the world, leave one of the dwarves’ invisible gifts by its bedside. The children slept, frozen into time.

He envied Prometheus and Loki, Sisyphus and Judas. His punishment was harsher.




By Neil Gaiman. An alternative Christmas poem for your enjoyment/gloom. 🙂

And a video to go along with it:

Both poem and video are from Neil Gaiman’s blog, the coolest and hippest writer of them all. 😀


I look around, sometimes I stare
I think back now and then, I hope you know I care
I walked away that day, trying to treat you right
But you were on your track, it was me turning back, I left you freezing outside

I like how retrospectively sad this song is. I love the lyrics. I love Kelly Jones’ whiskey voice. It’s a great song.

What a great coming-out speech

This is what Stuart said in his coming-out speech to his parents in the UK series Queer as Folk:

Queers. Because I’m queer. I’m gay. I’m homosexual. I’m a poof, I’m a poofter, I’m a ponce. I’m a bumboy, batty-boy, backside artist, bugger. I’m bent. I am that arsebandit. I lift those shirts. I’m a faggot-ass, fudge-packing, shit-stabbing uphill gardener. I dine at the downstairs restaurant, I dance at the other end of the ballroom. I’m Moses and the parting of the red cheeks. I fuck and I am fucked. I suck and I am sucked. I rim them and wank them, and every single man’s had the fucking time of his life. And I am not a pervert. If there’s one twisted bastard in this family, it’s this little blackmailer here. So congratulations, Thomas. I’ve just officially outed you.

You can watch it here:

this is one helluva beautiful prose

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

  • You are Jeff by Richard Siken

the blues

I like the blues. It’s not because I am trying to be emo, slash-my-wrists, deep or what. But there’s something about that genre of music that is therapeutic and appealing to me.

And there’s nothing quite like the sound of blues when it’s played on an electric guitar. Not modern blues but the kind of gritty, down-South blues that, as Darren put it, sounds like you are going to hell and you’re just playing the guitar in defiance while you are waiting for the devil.

This is the title track from Black Snake Moan, a movie set in the South starring Samuel L Jackson and Christina Ricci. This is gritty blues at its best.