I smile while walking

I try so hard to be a rock animal. I have to walk through the City Centre and Old Town Square pretty much every day. I hit old town on my way to the synagogue. I talked to KJP the other day about how soon she'll be here. The idea of her being here for good had me pretty saturated with ebullience, but I digress. I have to keep my game face on, or I'll be harassed, and, more distressingly, slowed by bums, pushers, tourists, volunteer poll-takers... what have you. I have to be, or appear, stern. Not only don't-fuck-with-me, but more don't even fucking look at me, as I'm a man on a mission. I had a lesson with the triplets, Nadav, Ya'ir, and Naama. They are 6 and so cute. They get excited when I arrive. They are pleased to read and learn. Around the end of the lesson, the other children of Chabad House wander in and plead for little magic tricks. When I say the triplets are cute, it feels inadequate. They are soooooo cute.







After a great lesson with the little ones, I walked out into the square on cloud nine. I was grinning and immediately pestered by panhandlers. I just smiled and handed out "ne's", as opposed to my standard "zmiz's", Ne being no, and zmiz being beat it. I had a good long talk with Rabbi Barash. He's a reall cool cat. He's the younger one below...



Touched base with the Favorite son of Son of Krypton the other day. Puportedly, SQUIRM is close to finishing their album, and I'm excited for it.



OK. Prada's new campaign caught my eye. Great shoes, and the other pics are cool, too.



This shot seemed to be a little referential of Guy Bourdin's work, not that that's bad...



Then again, anything atmospheric with high heels makes me think of his stuff.



I'm on shoes because I was walking through the park at Riegrovy Sady early in the morning the other day, and came across a pair of womans shoes hooked on the lip of a stand-alone trash can... I really need to fix my camera for moments like that, but, alas. Let's switch gears here, and all watch a video of someone dancing with a skull.



I can make you see colour.



My friend, Dave, is leaving on Tuesday. It's such a drag. It seems that whenever I make a buddy, they leave. We went for Indian the other day at the place in my building. The front room was full of a big party of older Indian men. Towards the end of out meal, one of them started singing these beautiful Karnatic melodies while the other men clapped out polyrhythms. When he finished, the whole place applauded. I'm gonna miss that Dave.



For the last week, I've been listening to Penderecki at obscene volume on me lil' heddyphones. His massive crunch and ingenious skronk takes me aback. Find some and listen, especially if you're of the opinion that the avant is so at the sacrifice of emotionality and Ayler gospel dirges aren't your bag. I mean, just look at this...



World Cup is almost starting. None of my students want their lessons on Monday afternoon, as US and CR go head to head... I might want to cheach that out, on the other hand...


I've always had a softer spot for Beatles covers than for even the Beatles themselves. So many people chide a band for doing covers, but I think that's dismissive. Style is based on repitition, as Hartford says. I stumbled across a bunch of Beatles covers. Most of them smell like shit, but are good for novelty purposes. Scroll down this page and check out the KFC training tapes. They are sample gold. If there is one style of Obcerstveni that the Ceskia cannot get enough of, it is KFC. Golden arches are here and there, but KFC is fucking everywhere in this town.



More later. I need a break...