Comments of the Uninitialized, & cie.

[harvard!jerpc.PE!topaz!jer (Eric Roskos @ Home)]

This posting is about a whole variety of things.

First, I tried modifying my cassette player to go backwards, but
alas, no luck... I forgot that on these economy-model players,
everything is run by the same motor.  So, first off, it wouldn't
start, because the buttons worked off the motor, but I fixed
that by starting it before I reversed the motor.  But then, the
right spindle started running in reverse at a high speed... I
had forgotten that both spindles turn outward, with the right
one turning faster than it actually has to in order to take up
the slack coming off the capstan, so if you reversed the motor,
naturally both would run inward, and would do it a lot faster
than the capstan was pulling the tape off.  So that didn't work.

Second, continuing my experimental testing of Kate Bush on
uninitialized listeners to see their reactions... the Iranian
person still has my tape, so I guess maybe he has begun to see
through the fog and to enjoy the music.  Meanwhile, I sent my
SO, the Stanford biochemist who discovered Primase, one of the
pink albums.  Since that time, I have been unable to talk to
her!  I think maybe she has gotten alienated or something. 
Today when I called, one of the folks who lives there in her
house, a philosophy grad. student, answered the phone, and said,
spontaneously, "You have good tastes in music!  I have all of
Kate Bush's albums, I have had them for years!  Oh... Lee
thought _The_Dreaming_ was `wierd'.  I don't like it either,
it's too much like Yoko Ono."  I asked him what this meant, and
he said, "You know," and made some wailing noises.  He said he
then played her some of Kate Bush's earlier albums, and she
liked them OK, but she still doesn't like _The_Dreaming_, and
won't return my calls.  This appears once again to confirm the
"SO doesn't like it" property which we've seen in everyone from
anonymous persons mentioned by the write-only, to famous British
music critics!  If she doesn't return my calls soon, I guess I
will have to join the ranks of the "SO convinced me not to
listen to her any more" group, as well!  This is terrible!  I
wonder if Kate Bush knows about this! she could write a song
about it,

	Boinger goes another SO
	On the bonnet of my song!
	I keep my listners all in line,
	I make them stand at the gates alone! <- see metre change
	You never understood me,
	You never really tried:
	I'm John Lennon, personified! <- see trite AA rhyme

I found out why I thought that the person in "Pull out the Pin"
encounted the American on the street... because when she sings
"He's big and pink, and not like me," there is this sound like a
car going buy blowing its horn, like on a city street.  I guess
maybe it's supposed to be one of those napalm distributor siozig
or somthing.

Well, I'm sure there was something else I meant to write, but I
never can remember, when the time comes to speak, what I had
meant to say all along.

"Blimey!  It's in 'er bloomin' ear!"

   	     I still dream of Organon,
	       The Peachtree Arcade,
	   Memories of the time long gone:
	      The dusty time they made
	   Hotels out of railroad bridges.
	   The iron-railed pool of air...
	  They lift sheep by ribbons, there;
	    [No, over here!  Over here!] <-survivor to plane
      and the time that made the shadowed place
	   Leaves me upstanding on the edge
	    To weep, and dream of sheep.

You know... we Slovak people make rolls out of poppies heavy
with seed, and they don't take us deeper and deeper at all!
(except on Christmas Eve, of course, when, late at night, we eat
them with milk and honey on baked dough balls, and mushroom soup.)

[The above is all done in the name of procrastination... but I
won't say what I am supposed to do, "you wouldn't believe me,
you're never really tired."]
					-- jer