I prefer live shows.

Last night Jacquelyn and I went to see Yo La Tengo.  I got her tickets for her birthday last month and last night was finally the night.  Jacquelyn's has loved them forever, but I'd never listened to them much.  Which is surprising since they were noisy and full of yummy reverb squelch and squeaks.  I'd noticed a little bit in the few songs I'd heard, but the concert was an amazing noisefest - and not just random crrud, but very precise noise.  I haven't really seen anyone wield the reverb so skillfully since I saw Nirvana back in 1993.

The opening band was Times New Viking, which I thoroughly enjoyed as well.  At first I thought they just had crappy sound because there was so much static and noise, but uh, no, that's how they do it.  It's interesting because they actually craft these really fantastic catchy and melodic songs, but there's so much noise drowning it out.  I mean, they are literally going for the shit-I-just-blew-out-my-expensive-speakers-fuck-it-play-anyway sound.  I know Pitchfork reviewers love that shit, and hell, *I* love low-fi, but for once I actually feel like this would be a better band if they toned it down just a tiny tiny bit.

It was a really good show though.  The last time I was at the Barrymore was for Marilyn Manson in 1997.  That was a pretty good show.  Say what you want about their music (which I can't even listen to now that I'm not an angsty teen) but they really knew how to put on a stage show.

Body things.

Someone call the police.  I'd like to report a murder.  Yes, yoga killed my legs.  They are for all intents and purposes, dead.  I can't even get a pulse and they don't seem to be breathing.

Last week, post-yoga, I was fine.  This week, I am dying.  So much so that I called into work.  Granted I really pushed myself this week and really explored all the tension in my legs.  Tomorrow's elliptical workout should be interesting.

This oft-purported idea that the body is somehow evil or at least base compared to consciousness or the soul has been bothering me lately.  As much as the idea of ghosts is interesting, the soul or consciousness if you like, can not exist without a home.  No golden peak without the rest of the pyramid first.  You know.  I don't understand why people would call the need for houses evil.  Even tribes in the Amazon built shelters.  So why not make your home a nice place, a place where your soul would like to happily reside.  Enlightenment isn't a lifting, it's about encompassing, including.  And yes, sometimes my soul would greatly love a bacon cheeseburger and some ice cream.  It also doesn't want getting off the couch to be a chore.  Get it?