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January 2nd, 2003

New Years.

new years eve (and morn) was fine for me.

but i left the party i was at with one observation: the eighties was a period devoid of artistic credibility. vastly devoid. i heard vanilla ice, salt'n'pepper, the black michael jackson, and many other blasts from the past, so to say, and had the horrible realisation that alice cooper's song poison is actually a masterpiece when played in context with these songs.

i remember, even, watching an interview with david bowie, where he described his success in the eighties as, 'the lowest point in his artistic career.'

if these horrors were not enough, though, was in watching perfectly intelligent women dance the dance moves from the songs mentioned (in addition to the chicken song), and sing all of the words, most alarmingly, to vanilla ice's one hit wonder. yet more disturbing was how you can find yourself humming those words, though not, i assure you, to vanilla ice.

anyhow, 2002 is gone, and now it is 2003.

i don't know how to feel about 2002. it was an improvement on 2001, that was for sure, with a few things coming together for me, and a neat thing towards the end of the year. 2003 will tell how neat that was, but at the moment it's a pleasant enough thing. overall, i guess i'd have to say i feel pleased.

anyhow. onwards and forwards. i really don't know what i'm doing with this livejournal anymore.