February 2012

You Can Call Me Out

by alec on October 27, 2005 |   Trackback URI   |     Email This Post Email This Post   |   25 Views  

Paul Simon’s definitive hit off of Graceland, You Can Call Me Al, has always sounded like a not-too subtle title for a somber song detailing the process of aging and maturing but losing apart of ones edgier, rawer self. Oddly, the internet did not provide me with much song analysis apart from encouraging reviews and the feeling that this song was ‘optimistic’ and ‘happy’. But I intend to write an analysis with the basic premise that the song revolves around losing ones sense of self and the hope that an unknown other can help restore that sense of identity with the end realization that only the individual, deprived of the comforts that created his situation, can restore himself.

The song begins with A man walks down the street / He says why am I soft in the middle now / Why am I soft in the middle / The rest of my life is so hard. This jump starts the tone of the song — soft diction to describe his current life (soft, middle) — juxtaposed against the emphasis of what is left in life, “hard”. It continues with I want a shot at redemption / Don’t want to end up a cartoon / In a cartoon graveyard. The feeling is whimsical, almost Charlie Brown-esque: in a comical sense, he despairs over seeing himself as a serious, self-aware human whose personality and traits will parallel his descent in age, with him finally ending in death as a ‘cartoon’ in a cartoon graveyard.

The chorus begins with ‘If you’ll be my bodyguard’ — a metaphor for a friend who will be genuine and real with the other — someone not afraid to tell the other when’s he’s losing his sense of self. This is continued with I can be your long lost pal … You can call me Al. The theme of desperation is apparent — anyone can be his friend as long as he or she is sincerely his friend. But is he too old to address his own decline in a genuine fashion? This is furthered, where a striking example seems to be that the title, ‘You Can Call Me Al’, is oddly similar to the phrase ‘you can call me out’, where the individual doesn’t recognize a strength within himself to change his ways, but hopes another could. Though it may be a stretch, I have always thought that was the intention of the title — to provide a slightly subtle, but with attention, apparent meaning to this song.

The next verse begins with A man walks down the street / He says why am I short of attention / Got a short little span of attention / And woe my nights are so long / Where’s my wife and family / What if I die here. From this, the character is seemingly still stuck in the fourth stage of grief. He implies that if he dies here, he will not be proud of what he has left behind, and even if he doesn’t he does not feel proud of how he is currently.

The final verse sees the protagonist accepting and taking proactive steps to overcome his stagnation as a human, though he finds it isolating and trying. A man walks down the street / It’s a street in a strange world / Maybe it’s the third world / Maybe it’s his first time around / He doesn’t speak the language / He holds no currency / He is a foreign man emphasizes these points. Imagery is invoked of a befuddled middle class American who is out of their element (albeit intentionally), stumbling upon himself and everything in his way on his personal quest. But redemption is around the corner: He is surrounded by the sound / The sound / Cattle in the marketplace / Scatterlings and orphanages / He looks around around / He sees angels in the architecture / Spinning in infinity / He says Amen and Hallelujah. Here is the climax, provided concisely in the last four lines. Paul Simon’s character has found satisfaction by depriving himself of the comforts that allowed and promoted his stagnation as an individual. Within this song, the last four lines provide the optimistic outlook, triumphantly concluding with Amen and Hallelujah for still having the ability to better ones self.

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October 26, 2005

by Word Of The Day on October 26, 2005 |   Trackback URI   |     Email This Post Email This Post   |   1 Views  

Swizzle-stick – n. A small thin rod for stirring mixed drinks.

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When the cat’s away

by government_employee on October 25, 2005 |   Trackback URI   |     Email This Post Email This Post   |   2 Views  

Well, another day at the office, another day of proof that adults need supervision more than children.

The boss was gone, so the day was spent doing the following:

10 AM — Arrive late. Check email, get coffee, play minesweeper.
11 AM — Discuss ‘Don Diva’ magazine (a ‘gangster lifestyle’ magazine), the shooting of Camron in DC the previous weekend.
12 PM — Eat lunch, listen to music at computer.
1 PM — Write a letter, check email again. Listen to music again.
2 PM — Become frustrated at minesweeper.
2:30 PM — Head out.

This day was typical for the coworkers as well. Let’s go unfireable and unproductive government work!

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A semi-personal update, ETC.

by alec on October 25, 2005 |   Trackback URI   |     Email This Post Email This Post   |   22 Views  

Well, fuck, I am devoid of creativity. The other blogs on this site that I run are devouring my attention — Word of the Day, the Mao blog, and Government Employee — and making me lack attention to this one.

Currently I am planning a trip to Europe. It is in a week and I am not that excited, to be honest. But, so it goes.

I have spent the last few weekends in DC and NYC. My past year has been very interesting in terms of places traveled: Washington DC, New York City, Atlanta, Pittsburgh, Richmond, Chicago, Virginia Beach, Charlottesville, Los Angeles, Bucharest, Rome, Venice, Florence. Lots of photos can be had here.

I have also been working on revamping WPP. I have added journal entries, edited previous entries, edited links, and added new entries.

Other stuff: I am playing tennis a lot. I have a girlfriend: she was the owner of the hamster known as Mao, he is now located in her freezer, she is cool, and contributes. I am splurging at bars. I am enjoying Adams Morgan. I am looking for a place with a couple of friends. And else than that, life keeps on chugging.

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October 25, 2005

by Word Of The Day on October 25, 2005 |   Trackback URI   |     Email This Post Email This Post   |   2 Views  

Woopknacker – adj. A loud-mouthed, aggressive person.

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indulge me…

by alec on October 24, 2005 |   Trackback URI   |     Email This Post Email This Post   |   2 Views  

I know, I know, another gym anecdote. You probably think I’m some sort of (aspiring) meathead (like Alec). I swear I’m not. It’s just that lots of odd and amusing things happen there. Like naked guys in the locker room. And not naked guys changing or hustling into the shower, but standing and talking. And not just standing, but posing. Why is it that some 60 year old dude feels the need to corner me with his foot up on a bench and a hand on his hip, like Washington crossing the Delaware? And all the while I’m standing there, trying not to look, but feeling my eyes drift downward, ready to submit to the hypnotic oscillation of his testes, which dangle maybe an inch off the ground–resembling some crude, wrinkly version of Newton’s Cradle. Haha. Balls.

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in hats

by Chairman Mao on October 23, 2005 |   Trackback URI   |     Email This Post Email This Post   |   2 Views  

I am at the height of high fashion and haute couture. My owner has purchased me a hat and I have modeled it for you all:

mehat in hats

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Senioritis

by Depths of My Soul on October 18, 2005 |   Trackback URI   |     Email This Post Email This Post   |   0 Views  

I don’t know how so many people go straight from high school to undergraduate school and then from undergraduate school right into grad school. Not to mention the freaks who decide to get PhDs right out of undergraduate school or an MA program. That’s almost all of your 20s! Ack! Hell, I don’t know how people go to undergrad for a fifth year. I’m one of the few people I know who’s graduating in four years, and I’m going out of my goddamned mind trying to finish this last one – and it’s only the first semester! I think to myself several times per day, ‘fuck 18th century French literature, I’m going to become a stripper!’ Then I think back to my recent, disastrous attempt at creating Porn Star Nails (long, shiny and square painted with really obvious white tips) and realize I’m not cut out for all that bleaching and waxing and filing.

Then I think, because I’m already on the subject of pubic hair and my desire not to have to wax it off, that there are millions of products on the market designed to remove pubic hair, but none that I know of dedicated to its upkeep. I’m fairly certain regular shampoo and conditioner probably aren’t good things to smush around near your private area, meaning someone needs to invent something hypoallergenic and…I don’t know, genital-safe.

So, you read it here first, folks. I’m quitting school to dedicate myself to pubic hair entrepreneurshipness.

Now the big question is, what I should call my product? Pubeshoo? WiryNoMore? Pubisoft?

Also, comment with your suggestions as to what I should be for Halloween. The choices are: Wonderwoman, a Mexican soap opera star, Jennifer Tilly’s character from Bound (I have someone willing to be my Gina Gershon, which will make it slightly less confusing and random) or George Sand. I’m leaning toward George Sand because it would allow me to buy and use a cigarette holder, vest and poufy 19th century man’s shirt.

I await your responses, oh faithful readers of the Internets!

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