Monday music, the “road to Shambala” edition

I can’t sleep. First of all, “LOST” is coming back, for the last time (what in the hell am I going to do with my life once “LOST” is over? Get a hobby?). Second of all, the return of “Lost” has somehow managed to coincide with what is probably going to go down in history as The Day Natalia Came Close To Chewing Through Her Watch Strap In A Frenzy, or, perhaps, even as The Day Natalia Chewed Through Her Watch Strap In A Frenzy. Details will emerge whenever it is I am able to talk about them in a coherent manner. Let’s just say that I was stupid enough to write a play. And am now dealing with the consequences of this act.

So here’s the music I am listening to while picturing all of the different things that may or may not go wrong tomorrow, pertaining to the play, and also pertaining to “LOST” and acts of God in general:

Sexy Boy – Air
College Town Boy – Dent May & His Magnificent Ukulele
Sex Me Up – Datarock
Stand By Me (acoustic version) – Oasis
General Midi vs. Rusty 4eyes – Adventure Time
And I Was a Boy from School – Hot Chip
Dear Prudence – the Beatles
The Ice & The Storm – My Brightest Diamond
Hot Hot Hot!!! – the Cure
Jig of Life – Kate Bush

From my favourite “LOST” episode of all time:

The dudes in the van remind me of some of the crazier road trips I’ve taken. It’s beautiful, that moment, and a little sad as well. The image of Sawyer having beer in the end is the perfect conclusion to “Tricia Tanaka is Dead,” but it’s also a pretty good metaphor for dealing with life in general. Sometimes you just tilt your head a little, and then have a drink, and then get on with things.

The Immortal Genius of Facebook Groups: from Ian McEwan to John Locke (the bald badass on “Lost,” that is)

Far too many serious writers treat the Internet with bemused detachment.

They are missing out.

They are especially missing out wherein Facebook groups are concerned. Thank God they have a… uh, non-serious writer such as myself to set them straight.

Consider, for example the title of the latest group I joined on Facebook: “In a perfect world I’d be doing Robbie in a library as Briony burns in hell.” Tell me this isn’t the ultimate response to Ian McEwan’s novel Atonement, recently adapted for the big screen. The group’s description gets Cecilia’s last name wrong (it’s Tallis, not Talon), but we can overlook such trifles; Facebook does not yet require a group creator to be babysat by a tut-tutting editor, after all (this is, of course, both the strength and weakness of Internet writing). The group, I believe, has been bolstered by James McAvoy’s portrayal of Robbie Turner – as belonging to it, and hence forging a connection directly to the character, is so much cooler than simply listing oneself as a McAvoy fan on Facebook (not that I didn’t go and do that when I saw the movie).

A group commemorating Charles Bukowski, on the other hand, is deftly titled “Meet me at the Racetrack and Bring Booze and Whores.” This particular example illustrates the other great thing about Facebook groups: Continue reading “The Immortal Genius of Facebook Groups: from Ian McEwan to John Locke (the bald badass on “Lost,” that is)”