ILLNESS

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07:03:2005 Entry: "Ann : Baah...I can't sleep. More on Pink Floyd."

Baah...I can't sleep. More on Pink Floyd.

Couldn't sleep last night either...thinking about the upcoming day, plus Stan was snoring. Now, Stan's not snoring, but I'm thinking about the past day. What a dream, I still cannot believe it. There is strange irony/poetry in the fact that the person (Bob Geldof) who played Pink in The Wall (movie) was the one who brokered the reunion. That's almost like something that doesn't happen except in literature, if this was a novel. It does seem like someone wrote a literary script to the band that is Pink Floyd, and we've reached the final chapter, tied up in a very satisfying ending. Maybe it's just a small section in the many volumes that is rock and roll, interspersed with coinciding tales of fans like myself, who simultaneously "give up their end of the bone," as Roger Waters has put it, in my case with my own self or my past (see post to which I refer). Somehow I feel that my reconciliation with my own past ties in very well in a very timely manner with a Floyd reunion, almost so well that it seems again to be very literary, planned, even. I guess that's what I like, not when art represents real life, but when real life represents art.

A few silly asides to alleviate the seriousness of this post:

--I couldn't help but think of Crazy Joe Devola while watching Sting sing "Every Breath You Take"...tall, blond hair, stalkeresque.

--There is an outtake from Pulp Fiction where Mia Wallace is talking to Vince Vega about there being two kinds of guys in the world, Elvis men and Beatles men. If we agreed that Bryan Ferry is an Elvis man, (and probably Eno was a Beatles man) then how do you explain Bryan's love of covering Lennon's "Jealous Guy?"

OK, we now return to the regularly scheduled Floydian discussions.

By Ann @ 02:01 AM CST:07:03:05 ..::Link::..

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