Open Letter

To the guy who keeps walking around behind me: I am in the library trying to do work that I should have completed, oh, about a motherfucking month ago. I would appreciate it if you would sit in yr seat like everyone else in this study area despite the attraction you so obviously have for something/one that I cannot see yet sense is somewhere near me. I guarantee you that it is simultaneously boring itself and bored with you. While I am not usually one to speak for another's desire, the boredom whom/whatever feels for you probably has something to do with yr bald head; why it is itself boring, I do not know, but I hope you take it to heart and leave it be. So what we have is actually a complete disinterest that you yourself seem unable to recognize but of which you deserve to be informed. Stop. For yr sake (which is covertly mine).

If you insist on continuing to move around behind me instead of staying in yr seat, I at least ask that you do not do the following two things: first, tap on the edge of my desk like one of those people who needs to touch everything they pass (you don't need to touch everything you pass although I do give you credit for a damn admirable job of doing so thus far); two, do not give me a dirty look when you see that I am reading Ne-Yo's biography on last.fm. Am I listening to "Because of You (Remix)" featuring Kanye West on repeat? Yes. But it is none of yr business. Do not look at my screen and do not act like whatever you see there is worthy of yr opinion. You clearly have a profound civic duty that consists of hating on fresh and sexy things - things such as Ne-Yo and good jackets. (That's right, yr jacket sucks. Stay seated.) So I ask that you put a collar on yr rabid sense of citizenship and not admonish me while also annoying the living fuck out of me. It is clear why you don't like Ne-Yo, but I was excited to learn that his friend nicknamed him "Neo" after Keanu Reeves' character in The Matrix and that he changed the spelling to reflect, in abbreviated form, his love for the city New York.

Also, even when you sit in yr seat, with yr legs propped up on the desk like you own this motherfucking place, you annoy me. You really should just go.

xoxo,
Melody

Kulture Korner: Science & Steely Dan

iTunes source names "God" and "abe lincoln money shot" have, despite obviously different taste in names, very similar taste in music: lots of Guster, Ben Folds Five, Gin Blossoms, and Black Eyed Peas; a couple Beatles, Aerosmith, and assorted classic rock best-ofs (that end up having very similar tracklists); and a handful of arbitrary Tupac, Dr. Dre, and Biggie tracks. As the day progresses, research proves that those of completely different naming sensibilities nonetheless share at least one significant feature; this researcher, for one, never fails to be impressed by the collective shittiness of NYU's musical sensibilities.

As for me, when I get stressed out, exhausted, or in need of inspiration, I put on my headphones and listen to "Peg" several times in a row, lean over my computer and close my eyes so that nothing distracts from the aural rays of sex that Donald Fagen, Walter Becker, and (especially) Michael McDonald send into to the center of my head.

Here is a pertinent conversation:

Melody Nelson: ps - i think "kid charlemagne" might be more utterly un-fuck-withable than classic... but that's me. "DID YOU FEEL LIKE JESUS? / DID YOU REALIZE / THAT YOU WERE A CHAMPION IN THEIR EYES?"
[...]
Eagles: DID YOU FEEL LIKE JESUS!!!!
yes!
[...]
E: IS THERE GAS IN TYHE CARRRR
IS THERE GASSS INNNN THHHEEE CCARRRRR?
[...]
E: crossed a diamond with a pearl?
lsd.
ITS THE END OF SIXTIES IDEALISM.
YET AGAIN>
MN: AND THE ENTRANCE OF COCAINE
E: once again.
good you had no idea what a state i was in last night with the live record.
give it you.
you cry.
its so good.
MN: TELL ME: WHERE ARE YOU DRIVING / MIDNIGHT CRUSIER?
THIS IS THE BEST LISTENING EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFE FUCK
E: FINALS
its like that.
where is your bounty of fortune and fame?\
i am another gentleman loser
drive me to harlem or somehwere the same.....
MN: yeah, i think finals make me especially emotionally sensitive to lyrics about the end of sixties idealism and the start of cocaine
E: i think its all the caffiene.
MN: no, i think it is steely dan
simply
E: touche.
walter becker get your balls out of my ears.