On the third anniversary of George Harrison's passing...

Has it really been three years?

My thoughts of love and peace go out to Olivia and Dhani.

Ah, George. My favorite Beatle.

I was still an amoeba when Beatlemania first erupted in America in February of 1964, but I can say in all honesty that George Harrison was my favorite Beatle. That crooked, sexy smile of his, and the way he called his hairdo "Arthur." Songs like "If I Needed Someone," "I Want To Tell You," "Taxman," "I'm Happy Just To Dance With You," "Think For Yourself," "I Me Mine," "While My Guitar Gently Weeps..." Jesus, need I go on?

My thoughts of love and peace go to Pattie Boyd, too. Wow. If I could go back in time and walk in someone's shoes for a few hours, I'd choose Pattie's. She's the big-eyed Swingin' London blonde once married to George and later Eric Clapton, the one who inspired so many memorable songs like "Something," "Layla," and "Wonderful Tonight." I heard she works a photographer these days, and that people still hold her in high regard because she's never taken the kiss-and-tell route, which totally sucks for a trash culture-vulture like me because if there's one person whose tell-all book I desperately want to read, it's Pattie's. At the same time, her silence shows a lot of class on her part. Who knows? Maybe she's writing her memoir as we speak and it's embargoed until after her death.

And how I wish Anita Pallenberg would write a memoir, too, goddamn it. Marianne Faithfull's written one, so why not Anita?



Gini's Songs of the Week:

Supergrass - Melanie Davis. Christ, is there some kind of subliminal message in this song that keeps telling me to play it over and over again, at ear-splitting decibels? I'm helpless - it's the power trio theory hard at work, along with some hardcore air-guitar moments.

Byrds - Eight Miles High. Still gets me everytime. First time I heard it was on a Sunday morning when I was in the fourth or fifth grade, skipping church and listening to some Westwood One show on Q102.

Buzzcocks - Certain Move. A great song for the road, from the last Buzzcocks album. Supposedly there's a UK tour in the works for the spring and a one-off gig with Ari Up on one of those nights.

Smiths - London. Johnny Marr = Guitar Uber-God.

Ramrods - Ghost Riders In The Sky. I'd only been familiar with the Roy Clark version until I heard this in a recent re-run of "The Sopranos," in a scene where - I believe - Paulie Walnuts is conferring with Tony about how to deal with the out of control Jackie Aprile, Jr. David Chase's (or is it his music supervisor's?) musical taste and timing is so effin' brilliant it makes my eyes well up.

Elis Regina & Antonio Carlos Jobim / Susannah McCorkle - Aguas de Marco (Waters of March) - OK, this is beautiful in either its original Portuguese or the later English re-working, but it's haunting to note that both women who sang this song met untimely endings: Susannah McCorkle's jumping from a window, and Elis Regina's coke O.D.

Ventures - Bumble Bee Rock. Which reminds me, it's almost time to pull out the Ventures' Xmas album...

Aside from Frank Rich, Sundays just seem to be missing that certain something lately

I know what it is. Yeah. Sundays around here just haven't been the same since before the election, when my man would wake up at 7:30 to catch the Sunday morning news shows with George Stephanopoulos, Tim Russert, Bob Schieffer, et al. Joe has this uncanny ability to flip around to the different shows, listen to all the important interviews and sum up everything rather nicely in just a matter of moments. He came of age politically the day Kennedy was shot, survived Nixon, was repelled by Reagan, and is still angry with Clinton for throwing it all away over a simple blow-job. Spiritually, we're both rattled by this Bush win, but Joe has this Cassandra thing going so it's even more dire-sounding when he shakes his head and says, "Get ready for America as we know it to unravel before our very eyes, Baby." His predictions, like everyone else's, are hit-and-miss, but when it comes to gazing into the political future, my man's forecasts are often and frighteningly spot-on.

Because of this, when I'm not busy mulling investments in gold or euros or who Joe should be talking to about getting a unit production manager gig in Vancouver, I tend to disappear into my cocoon of nostalgia, thinking back fondly to when Bill Clinton and his people ruled the country with the common good in mind, and could still admit to being human and making mistakes. Thinking that yeah, if Bill Clinton were to grope me, I'd probably giggle like a schoolgirl and go on to treasure the memory forever. And I wouldn't share it with many people, either, only a couple of like-minded friends who'd high-five me and buy a round of celebratory drinks.

Jesus. Me and my dirty old men...

Anyway, back to Clinton, I do hope he's in good health. He seems to have lost a lot of weight, from the pictures I saw of him at the opening of his library in Little Rock. I suppose he's still recovering from that heart operation. Bless him. God, I sure miss his being in the White House. I'm sure he doesn't, though. Especially now, with all that his successor has brought on, and told everyone else to, come to think of it.

Bring it on.

Anyway, here's my favorite king of bringin' it on, Frank Rich, from today's column, Bono's New Casualty: 'Private Ryan':

"What makes the 'Ryan' case both chilling and a harbinger of what's to come is that it isn't about Janet Jackson and sex but about the presentation of war at a time when we are fighting one. That some of the companies whose stations refused to broadcast 'Saving Private Ryan' also own major American newspapers in cities as various as Providence and Atlanta leaves you wondering what other kind of self-censorship will be practiced next. If these media outlets are afraid to show a graphic Hollywood treatment of a 60-year-old war starring the beloved Tom Hanks because the feds might fine them, toy with their licenses or deny them permission to expand their empires, might they defensively soften their news divisions' efforts to present the graphic truth of an ongoing war?"

http://www.nytimes.com/2004/11/21/arts/21rich.html?pagewanted=1&oref=login


And Cindy Adams' notable bon mot from today’s New York Post:

"To be thankful for this Thanksgiving: the Catholic Church, for bringing new meaning to the proverb, 'Abstinence makes the heart grow fondlers.'"

http://www.nypost.com/gossip/cindy.htm

Teletubbies, Toyah Wilcox and James McMurtry are alive and well and here to stay on this fine Saturday

From Danny:

You're the only one who would get this probably. This is noted on the behind-the-scenes page I just sent out but I missed it yesterday. However, we had a DVD playing for the baby this morning and at the end I noticed in the credits that Toyah Wilcox provides some of the voices on the Teletubby show! Isn't that wild? You remember her, right? She was sort of in the same vein as like Hazel O'Connor or somebody of that ilk in the early 80's. Freak-eee!

Because we watch a lot of hot Teletubby action around our house, recently Steven has been bugging me to find out whether they've got kids or midgets inside the costumes. I did a little research and was surprised by the answer.

Behind the scenes:

http://www.parrette.net/~wap/TELETUBBIES_WEB/ttlBehindTheScenes.html

You may have been fooled by he cute appearance of the Teletubbies. But:

a. Tinky-Winky is nearly 10 feet tall; Dipsy is about 9 feet tall; Laa-Laa is approximately 8 foot, 6 inches tall; Po is about 6 foot, 6 inches tall.

b. The actors "see" out of the mouth of the costume while the eye and mouth movements are controlled remotely by the crew with attached cables.

c. The costumes are made from a special fabric called Babygro. The costumes can take up to 8 hours to refluff after washing (I want to be a Teletubby "fluffer"!!! Ha-ha!!!)

d. The actors inside the costumes must take frequent breaks and remove the head to let fresh air into the costume. The costume can have a significant carbon-monoxide build-up in it.

e. Flemish rabbits are used because of their enormous size. They can grow to a total weight of some 30 pounds.

f. The Noo-Noo is large enough to hold a small man who operates it by using a television monitor.

The trick, of course, is to take away any familiar objects that would give a sense of scale. The illusion in Teletubby-land is to ensure that all objects you see on screen are scaled to make it look like it fits in the Tubby-world over the hills and far away.


Holy shit - all that work! Wow. Talk about the science of getting it right.

And that Tinky Winky actor's kinda hot, too...

And Toyah Wilcox - I'll be damned. Wow. Turns out she’s married to Robert Fripp, of King Crimson. Far out.

In other musical news, Danny’s friend Tracey sent me two mp3’s of James McMurtry’s new song, "We Can’t Make It Here," and both versions – one acoustic, one with the band – are fucking awesome. They're right up there in the same protest vein as Steve Earle's "The Revolution Starts Now" but they stand out as always, once again cementing my faith that James McMurtry is here to stay. I wanted to go see him at the Aardvark in Fort Worth last night but was just too exhausted, and besides that, I'd rather see him at the Silverleaf up in Denton with Tracey, and maybe Danny and Steven if they can manage a couple of free hours. So come back to the Silverleaf, James McMurtry, James McMurtry…

I'm rather hoping that I'll be an Everquest widow this weekend, so I can get some household beez-natch done and work on the ending for my short story. I've tweaked it, but you know how it is – solid endings that you're happy with can be so fucking elusive. It's so frustrating.

Speaking of which, I think we might have a new mouse. When I went to take out the trash yesterday morning, I noticed the little garbage bag from the kitchen was all chewed up at the bottom – so I woke Joe up and had him put down another trap. We had a couple back when the weather turned cool, and while cute, all fawn-colored and tiny, they're simply not welcome here. Mouse poo freaks me out.

Plus, there's the stuff that's been in the washer since Thursday and I'm thinking it should probably go in the dryer – what do you think?


Gini's Jukebox - gotta love iTunes:

Jimi Hendrix - Spanish Castle Magic. Who does that horrid version that shows up in Greg Kinnear's painful robbery scene in "As Good As It Gets?" Wonder if there was some kind of clearance issue with Hendrix's people?

Joan Jett - Love Is All Around. Ah, Joanie. There's a list of women I'd have children by if it were scientifically feasible, and she's #1 on the list.

Johnnie Taylor - Disco Lady. Danny has a deep Johnnie Taylor T-connection. Be sure to ask him about it the next time you see him.

Link Wray - Ace of Spades. This guy is another guitar god. All hail the mighty Wray.

Lois Lane - Winds of Heaven. Bob Stanley of Saint Etienne whipped this one out on some unsuspecting clubgoers during a one-night only DJ gig at some place in either Glasgow or Edinburgh back in June of this year. Origin still unknown.

Long Ryders - Still Get By. From "The Radio Tokyo Tapes, Volume 1." Danny - to the rescue once again - salvaged my old LP, bringing musical magic back into our lives.

Loretta Lynn & Conway Twitty - Lead Me On. Speaking of musical magic, these two were made for each other, like Tammy & George, Exene & John, et al...

I do need some "K" bands on here - hurry, get the Kinks, Knitters, King Missile, Barney Kessel...who else do I should I have? Any suggestions?

Just saying no to Star Jones, Wal-Mart, and family holiday aggro

It's a good job I'm not a Barbie collector, because I'd be going against my sense of social justice and buying up all 24 of those Zodiac Barbies on the Wal-Mart website. They're fabulous. Danny and I were just looking at them, oohing and aahing over the ones we liked. I've got to tell myself to calm down, that I don't need them. Besides that, Barbies take up more space than books. And I'm not that impressed with the Aquarius Barbie, to be honest. She's nice, but honey, she's no Capricorn Barbie, whose ice blonde sparkle holds more than a hint of sensual promise. Or the African-American Leo Barbie, looking almost confectionary in hot pink, like she belongs on top of a birthday cake. Hell, she's welcome to come popping out of my cake anytime, only if she strips down to a matching hot pink bikini and boa. No, wait a minute. Star Jones already had someone do that, at her own reception after last week's wedding to that lavender cover-up of hers.

Shudder. Did I say that? Oh, dear Christ. This is what I get for reading Page Six every morning, the price I pay for hoping to reel in salacious tidbits on various luminaries. You have to troll through a lot of muck to get to the good stuff, which is likely just "bad P.R." coughed up by the reps of those whose very names land in the columns. Star Jones just happened to come up, after she supposedly got into it with a couple of her colleagues on "The View" one morning. One supposedly brought in a camera after being told no cameras were allowed, and another one who did something really innocuous that pissed "Bridezilla" off. Still, I can't believe someone hasn't yet harpooned this pitiful excuse for a spiteful, Beluga-sized human bitch. Hopefully one of her "View" colleagues will step up to the plate, and it'll be broadcast live across the national airwaves, making the Janet Jackson nip-slip and the Monday Night Football/"Desperate Housewives" hullabaloo look like Sunday morning with "Davey and Goliath." In my dreams, it'll be something that makes ABC wish for something as simple as that "Saving Private Ryan" controversy again, something akin to "Gladiator."

Back to the Barbies, though, I really do wish they'd come out with the Hot Latina and Asian Babe Zodiac Barbies now. When will the geniuses at Wal-Mart and Mattel realize that there's an audience for this stuff? This could also totally be their last big shot at community outreach, in hopes that everyone will forget they're exploiting these very same people working in their stores, barely surviving on minimum wage and no benefits - or hope for any, either.

So yeah, no matter how beautiful the dolls are, I'll just enjoy them from afar. I've never been overboard for Barbie, anyway; I might have been as a child, but always ended up cutting their hair and taking them in the bath with me.

Another point was recently driven home about why I just can't do Wal-Mart in any way, shape, or form, too. Enough has already been said about certain policies they have, and I'm not trying to sound like some snotty-ass, elitist piece of pretentious piss here – but we were totally creeped out, less than overjoyed by our last Super Wal-Mart experience. It was almost like we needed a shower when we got home.

We ended up there out of sheer laziness, my man and I, one Sunday afternoon not too long ago. The moment we walked in, we were suddenly assaulted with the sight of McDonald's and that fucking clown. We looked at each other like, "You sure you want to shop here?" and shrugged dumbly, as we were swept along with the horde of shoppers.

The place was a madhouse. People rushing around with their twelve kids in tow, wheezing and whining as they descended on the samples of that unpasteurized queso blanco - the kind you always hear about when the Department of Health issues an alert on an outbreak of some bizarre strain of hideous intestinal funk; and slow-as-Christmas cashiers who could care less that they've just spent the last five minutes ignoring you, talking amongst themselves about the bitch who works over on aisle five.

Basically, we did our shopping in a record twenty-five minutes, stood in line for another fifteen, and practically ran screaming from the place. It had been three years since we'd last been in a Wal-Mart. Now we understand why.

Hence, no special edition Wal-Mart Barbies for me tonight. Even their 88-cent music downloads can kiss my ass – I'd rather give iTunes that extra 11 cents, anyway.



For those dreading the upcoming, uneasy holiday exhanges with differently-minded family folk, my friend Sibylle has come up with some "house rules." I suppose you could also do the reverse with the resulting fines, if yours is a Republican household...


HOUSE RULES FOR THANKSGIVING VISIT –

There will be NO talk of the election results, politics in general, or religion. Any instance of mentioning of any such subject will cost $ 1.00

Election result gloating will be $ 5.00 per episode. Victory dances will be $ 10.00 apiece. Half price on everything for children under 14. Curious questions from children are free and will be answered.

The resulting cash will be sent to Democratic Party Headquarters or to MoveOn.org.

Please keep this in mind when planning your visit. We want everybody to enjoy this holiday season in peace. Irreconcilable differences of opinion or philosophy will have to be camouflaged for the sake of general harmony. In other words: stifle it!

Watch out for costly "leaks" after consuming large quantities of wine or cranberry juice and vodka.


The Management.

Take the tow truck from my hair...

The most exciting thing that happened to me today was completely vicarious, not at all first-hand. My friend Heather, who works in the same building as the La Madeleine on Lemmon, sent this in right before lunchtime:

Kris Kristofferson parked in the no parking zone outside of La Madeleine (outside our window). His manager's car got towed! He's standing outside our window...

I was touched, but dazzled all the same. Who knows, maybe he'll be inspired enough to write a new song or something. I just can't believe the same man who brought us such classics as "Sunday Morning Coming Down," "Me and Bobby McGee" and "Help Me Make It Through The Night" was in Dallas today, dealing with the pain in the ass of having his car towed. Bummer.

Speaking of bum trips, I can't believe Bush wants Condolizzard Rice to be Secretary of State. Loser, please. Don't get me wrong - I certainly couldn't do that job, but really!!! Christ on a popsicle stick! Supposedly George Tenet's new book trashes her, too, citing her as incompetent. Personally, I think her hairstylist is incompetent. That "Dolly Madison" do has got to go, with the ends of her hair curling out like the old logo on those goddamned Zingers packages. It's been bothering me a lot, ever since I caught myself looking at her on TV last week and muttering, "Fuck you, Dolly Madison, and the snack cake you rode in on."

Seriously, that hair is just hateful, hateful, hateful.

And ... just when we thought it couldn't get any worse than John Ashcroft, along comes Alberto Gonzales, every multiculturalist's dream-turned-worst-nightmare, stepping in to make Ashcroft look like Ted Kennedy. He called the Geneva Convention "quaint." Gee. That inspires confidence.

Just thinking about these people is bringing me down, so I'm going to catch this "Sopranos" re-run. Catch you in a few, Lash La Rue...


I'm in true B-Girl mode tonight...just music-wise, unfortunately:

Barbara Mandrell - The Midnight Oil. Miss Mandrell, if you're nasty! I can't believe this is the same sweet Barbara who sang so sweetly on stage with her sisters Louise and Lurleen or whatever the hell her name was.

Beatles - Think For Yourself. Did George Harrison write this about Pattie Boyd, too?

Beck - Midnite Vultures. From Beck.com B-sides - a rare, website-purchase only.

Bee Gees - Fanny Be Tender With My Love. Don't listen to this song if you're considering an affair.

Billie Jo Spears - Blanket On The Ground. This one, too. I like how Laurie Anderson resurrects it for "Smoke Rings," though. Bless.

Blondie - Accidents Never Happen. Last song, side 1 of "Eat To The Beat." I played the shit out of this LP when I first bought it, in the pre-Christmas winter of my 5th grade year. Man, I used to have the biggest crush on their drummer Clem Burke, too. He had the most phenomenally kick-ass Premier drum sets, and bashed them like a sonofabitch. Sigh.

Blondie - Poet's Problem. A song I'd never heard before buying "The Platinum Collection." Simply beautimous.

Bongwater - Splash 1. Another one of their brilliant 13th Floor Elevators covers, from "Too Much Sleep."

Bonnie Tyler - It's A Heartache. Yeah, laugh all you want. Bust a gut. But long before the days of MTV and that painfully cringe-worthy video for "Total Eclipse of the Heart," this song was a massive crossover smash for this scratchy-voiced, Welsh-bred broad - in both the U.S. country and rock charts. Boo-yah. And she's probably richer than you and I'll ever be...

Brooks and Dunn - My Maria. Danny says that Brooks and Dunn are the Hall and Oates of the country set, and I can totally see this. Yes, I can. I love their cover of this old 70's FM ditty, though. Who the hell did the original?

Buck Owens & The Buckaroos - Buckaroo. Buck Owens = Guitar God.

Buzzcocks - Get On Our Own. I can't say enough about Pete Shelley's songwriting brilliance. So I won't, for now anyway.

Buzzcocks - Fiction Romance. Every teenager should have a Buzzcocks album in their collection, especially for songs like this.

Buzzcocks - Love You More. Oh my. I get all fluttery when I hear this, thinking of my first honest-to-god torrid - and at the time, rather illicit - romance. This was the first song I put on my record player when I came home that afternoon, having skipped school and all.

Can you say jailbait?

Astrologically speaking, No You Can't Watch, you are a loveable, but insufferable pain in the ass

Sun Sign - Aquarius

Your sign, dear No You Can't Watch, is the eleventh of the zodiac and is considered to be the sign of perspective, the future, and new projects. The water bearer symbolizes intellectual development through communication and innovation. Of all signs, you are the most idealistic and humanitarian, with a strong sense of community and fraternity. Your ruler Uranus, the planet of change and revolution, represents originality and a strong drive for adventure and freedom. Uranus is also called the rebel planet, and its energy is radical, sudden, and unpredictable. Aquarius is the third of the three air signs, which means that your intellectuality is expressed as an intuitive grasp of universal principles, along with a concern for the universal well-being of humanity. Aquarius rules the eleventh house of the chart, No You Can't Watch, the sector associated with friends and groups, intellectual pleasures, socializing, and attitude toward society. However, it also describes personal hopes and wishes, as well as collective trends and humanitarian issues. Yours is a fixed sign, which means that you resist manipulative behavior. You form your own opinion, however unusual it may be, and refuse to adapt. If someone dares to push, pull, or pressure you, they will definitely get to know your stubborn and eccentric side. Your strengths, No You Can't Watch, definitely are that you are accepting and sympathetic to many points of view, and are equipped to understand each of them. This wide sphere of understanding causes you to be idiosyncratic. You are an unusually independent and wildly unique individual with a profound spiritual bent. Your intuition, loyalty, and resourcefulness make you a fun person to be around. Naturally, you have some weaknesses, too, the most pronounced one being that you can be erratic in your actions. At times, you can be scattered and unrealistic, and confuse your own will with the greater will. Sometimes you can also be detached so that others see you as cold and inaccessible.

Rising Sign - Sagittarius

Optimism and enthusiasm are defining terms for you, as a Sagittarius Rising. Particularly drawn to travel, No You Can't Watch, you love exploration, as your mind is open to all new avenues of thought. You are idealistic, full of energy, and adventurous, and want to expand your boundaries to discover new possibilities.

Your ambitions are geared to large-scale goals and you love to overcome obstacles, live up to challenges, and reach out for the stars to bring them down to earth. You can be considered a person of the future, No You Can't Watch, because your eyes are always focused on what lies ahead of you. You demand freedom, and find yourself drawn to protecting those whose freedom may be infringed upon, such as children or animals. Fighting for any cause you find worthwhile is second nature to you. You are constantly searching for the true meaning of our existence in this world, and therefore, you are fascinated by philosophical, religious, and scientific truths. At the same time, you are ethical in your thinking and have high moral standards. Since you are such a positive thinker, No You Can't Watch, your sense of humor always helps you to bounce back quickly, when you are sad. You rarely ever walk down the melancholic path and feel sorry for yourself. Even disappointments don't tend to affect you that much, because your idealism will pull you beyond. When it comes to love, you are a bit fickle, and you tend to move from one love affair to the next. It's hard for you to settle down, No You Can't Watch! Your need for expansion and growth is unquenchable, and sometimes you think one partner can't satisfy that in you. But with age, you will realize the value of getting more stable and are able to make a true commitment.

No You Can't Watch's Natal Chart
Character and Personality

The following paragraphs concern the study of No You Can't Watch's personality, as induced by the positions of the planets and Rising sign. Some of the character traits mentioned may seem completely contradictory and incompatible. This is because the rough-hewn personality is a rarity. Usually, individuals are made up of a subtle orchestration of many different tones or aspects. However, serious introspection or detailed analysis should make it possible to distinguish the opposing or diverging images comprising No You Can't Watch's overall character, and perhaps, in time, find the best and most harmonious way to integrate them. An extroverted intuitive (to use C.G. Jung's terms), No You Can't Watch is open to the reality of the world, objects, and others. She has a special duality to her mind, which is made up of equal parts of intellectual resources and sensitivity, giving her great intuition and humanism. As a function of this latter, she has a great sense her fellow woman, and the oracular art of divining people's unconscious wishes and motivations - in fact, her advice is often sought. In material terms, it gives her a talent for locating lost objects, and a spirit of discovery and invention. Overall, No You Can't Watch welcomes the signs arriving from the outer world in a positive and liberal way, and even incites them to promise more than they can provide. However, when something does not satisfy her, she has the ability to cheer herself up rapidly, and is quick to discover whatever positive aspects it may present. This involves a process of readaptation which requires formidable ego transformations, and they are the challenge for No You Can't Watch. It is up to her to renew herself, to behave in such a way as to drain her environment of fearsome or threatening aspects.

No You Can't Watch is usually perceived as an idealist. Deep within herself, she senses the presence of a " new life. " It is the crucible of her ideal and all her hopes. The " new life " may assume the garb of various philosophies of liberation; whatever they may be, they all endeavor to revitalize alienated modern woman, oppressed and downtrodden by Western civilization. However, in her striving to free herself and her fellow women from a social contract based on the power of sheer lucre and corrupt lobbies, No You Can't Watch displays a singular inclination to depend upon the very social forces she intends to topple. The reason for this is that, because she is quite sociable, the only thing she instinctively grasps profoundly is social action and organization. Her perception of her own personality is vague or even negative. In fact, her grandiose personal gestures are motivated by a need to hide her unavowed feelings of inferiority and, at times, her fear of strong personalities. But she is above all an idealist. Hope is the prime mover of her spirit, and she is continually traveling along the axis of the hope/despair polarity. As she applies herself to ignoring whatever is impervious to her aspirations, No You Can't Watch should acquire some certainty of what is still possible - for her and the world. In fact, in relation to her ideal, No You Can't Watch behaves realistically, although others are unable to perceive her realism because she expresses herself in such an unconventional and eccentric fashion. She is passionately committed to the quest and research she has initiated, and will pursue it with determination if not fury. She judges and defines herself in opposition to society, and human relations are vital to the evolution of her personality. An elitist, she does not believe in human equality, preferring individuality. She seeks a way to ite them without abolishing their differences. She would like to create a utopian community with no ideological imperatives, a self-ruled entity which would recognize its own spirit as the only authority. Her definition of friendship is spiritual love, because it establishes a subtle, vast, and delicate web of bonds, not only between people, but between people and things. She imagines a vow of true friendship as a form of freedom which reassures the freedom of others, instead of threatening it. However, she should become aware that this ideal harmony, which is often rather difficult to put into practice, sometimes hides an unavowed fear of deep commitment to another person. For this reason, her love life is among the more erratic. Warm and giving to the world in general, in certain special cases she may become cold or even distant. She is determined to elude any perceived threat to her freedom, and picks her way through a world of paradoxes and contradictions. Her sensuality is associated with her imagination, and she loves people not for what they are in reality, but for the way her imagination transfigures them. The result is many a cruel disillusionment. But when she falls in love, it's for real. No You Can't Watch thrives on relating to other people. She cannot live without love! No You Can't Watch needs others to fulfill herself and accomplish her ambitions. At the time of No You Can't Watch's birth, her Rising Sign was located in Sagittarius (the Archer), while the Sun was passing through the constellation of Aquarius (the Water Bearer). A summary of the various clues mentioned above provide No You Can't Watch's personality profile; the following key words distill the essence of her character and indicate certain contradictions which may be sources of tension: Impetuosity - Independence - Enthusiasm - Rebelliousness - Group spirit - Originality - Impressionability - Fluctuation - Analytical mind - Irritability -Worldly concerns - Inventive mind - Projection - Sense of paradox. Gini has an impetuous and enthusiastic personality which demands great freedom of action and movement. Unwilling to comply with any form of authority, she does not effortlessly obey social customs and injunctions. Her passions are always immediately aroused by grandiose or innovative projects. Exploration, whether physical or intellectual, is her true calling. The paradoxical and unexpected interpretations suggested to her by her intuitive and lively spirit open her mind to an original and inventive form of thought. Her determination, which is based on her sense of contradiction, is flexible but stubborn. Although her character is theoretically humanistic and well-meaning, she may sometimes break wildly away from situations which seem to threaten her free expression. Her idealism is rooted in a clear perception of injustice, and she could easily become a radical reformer of the economic or educational system. Born three-and-a-half to seven days after the rising of the New Moon, No You Can't Watch is said to be a " Crescent Moon " lunar type. This "soli-lunar" configuration indicates that she may need to make an effort to free herself from the past. Something related to her childhood, her parents, or her ancestors is holding her back, impairing her effectiveness, and should be overcome. Due to her past, she refuses tried-and-true models, is always fighting to justify her innovative viewpoints, and tends to break away from tradition. She is hardly ever aware that she is making career and lifestyle choices which are based on an urge to modify her relationship to society, and the rigid standards and models from the past. Due to the influence of Jupiter dominating her birth chart, No You Can't Watch has undeniable social ambition and many resources with which to achieve it (see CAREER POTENTIAL). Relatively confident in herself and her abilities, she has the potential to be a leader and chief. It therefore seems probable that she will rise to success. However, she should question herself about what sort of success she seeks, and at what price. She should be aware that the taste of victory may be bitter if she finds she has sacrificed other aspects of life, like love, friendship, or creativity, to obtain it. She must consciously select what she is willing to invest in order to secure honor, money, and social consideration.

Staying away from the news can be beneficial for your health

Well, good morning there. Oops, make that afternoon. I hope everyone's enjoying this cold day indoors, and away from their television sets. What with Fallujah, Arafat, Scott Peterson, and who knows what's blown into a full-scale catastrophe since yesterday, there's so much out there that yeah, impacts us from afar, but truth be told, it's all just out of control and we should just take a sick day from it all. So why not today? I've yet to turn to a news channel today, and already I'm feeling at peace and at one with the world. Because if I see one more clip of of idiots firing their guns into the air, proving Darwin's theory for the millionth time, I think I'll go even crazier than I already am. Trust me. I don't need help in this department. Thanks to my job, I hear all sides of every story, eight hours a day. We are fair and balanced, and it makes us ultra-sensitive to the fact that yes, everyone has gone spare, positively out of their ever-lovin' minds.

At least the music is always there to save me. Here's what's playing today, going down in alphabetical order on the iTunes Library list:

"All The Madmen" - David Bowie. St. Bowie. There are more air guitar moments in this song than I care to count. This was in constant rotation during election week, too, for some reason. But I don't think I was the madwoman in that case.

"Width of a Circle" - David Bowie. For me, one thing that always stands out about early Bowie tunes are the backing vocals of the two Micks - Ronson and Woodmansey; "Turn around go back!" in this one, and their unforgettable presence on "Rock 'n Roll Suicide" from "Ziggy." Just makes me gooey inside, man. Now if only my damned copy of the 30th anniversary edition of "Ziggy" would get here in the mail...

"No, No, No" - Dawn Penn. First heard this song in 1995 in the pub "down Rammy," as my ex and his friends (or mates) called the place we lived, a little village called Ramsbottom outside the Manchester suburb of Bury in the north of England. This one has stuck with me ever since, and lo and behold, I found it one night after I got back from living there in the used bin up at Hastings in Denton for the princely sum of $5. Praise the Kristess.

"The Strongest Man in The World" - The Deathray Davies. Don't you just love their name? They're from Dallas and they effin' rock. They make me want to get up and do Pete Townshend-type air-guitar jumps around the room. On the band's website's FAQ section, someone asks how the name came about and the answer is simply, "How cool would The Deathray Liotta's sound?"

"The Girl on the Billboard" - Del Reeves. A road-trippin', Krazy Kountry classic. Once you can wrap your mouth around the lyrics and their delivery, your entry into Nashville Babylon is set in stone. And damn, I sure do wish the Cramps would cover this one, too. It just seems a perfect fit for Lux and Ivy & Co.

"Anything, Anything (I'll Give You)" - Dramarama. From the "Mayor of the Sunset Strip" soundtrack. Original import album has Edie Sedgwick on the cover.

"I Close My Eyes and Count To Ten" - Dusty Springfield. God bless Dusty Springfield. I wonder what she thought when they used this song in that episode of "Cracker," where that psycho schoolgirl was kidnapping her male schoolmates and killing them to this song. Regardless, it's a purely heartfelt, haunting ballad. And we've all been there before.

"FCC Song" - Eric Idle. You just have to hear it for yourself. 49% of American voters probably knew this by heart long before November 2nd.

"The Classical" - The Fall. Before Mark E. Smith became known in the American music press as the guy who beat the crap out of his wives/bandmates - long after Brix had jettisoned from the pod - he was actually kind of a dementedly jolly Mancunian poet-laureate-on-acid type. I don't know what he's doing these days, but albums like "Dragnet" and "Live at the Witch Trials" were fookin' brilliant for young 'un like me, back in the day.

"Gold Dust Woman" - Fleetwood Mac. Gotta love it. I understand things weren't all rainbows, sunshine and lollipops behind the scenes, but these people made some beautiful music together. "Rumours" was the first album I ever begged my mother to buy for me. I used to fantasize about being Stevie Nicks' little sister, and dreamed of the perfect black blouse with angel sleeves.

"Big Me," "Everlong" - Foo Fighters. Power trios turn me on faster than being ogled by a sexy, Ian McShane gangster type (see "Sexy Beast"). You may not want to crank up "Everlong" as you're flying down the freeway at 75 mph, but then again, you may just want to.

"Whiskey Trip," "Single Again" - Gary Stewart. Gary Stewart, how could you have ripped yourself from this sphere so abruptly, so cruelly? God bless you and your honky tonk heart, and thank you for all the songs that still bring a lump to my throat.

"Let's Talk Dirty To The Animals" - Gilda Radner. Another one ripped so cruelly from our world. This one brings her right back to life, though.

"Arthur's Farm," "Architecture and Morality, Ted and Alice" - Half Man Half Biscuit. I was turned onto this Liverpool outfit through my ex-brother-in-law's ex-girlfriend, a Liverpudlian lass named Wendy. She sent me home in '89 with a cassette copy of "Back In The DHSS" and I eventually found the LP at VVV in Dallas, and as soon as I bought a CD player, tracked down a CD copy and made a special trip from Denton to Mesquite to buy it. That led me to another find, "ACD," which is worth having if you're a shiftless completist like me. I should get off my marshmallow and find their other stuff, too, because records by bands with lyrics such as "The nauseating bashfulness of early Diana made me want to set fire to commemorative tea towels" deserve a special place in anyone's collection.

"Cocaine Blues" - Hank Thompson. This guy's still at it, proving that a 58-year career ain't nothin' to sniff at. This song also has a slide guitar moment that'll leave you spinning, and the over-the-top shake-yer-ass ending is the icing on an already super-rich cake. No doubt Junior Brown listened to this guy a lot in his formative years.

"Lonesome 77-203" - Hawkshaw Hawkins. One of the two men who went down in the plane with Patsy Cline (cross yourself, acknowledge Her. That's right. Do it.) Was this his only hit, or were there others?

"Whiskey, If You Were A Woman," "Somewhere Tonight" - Highway 101. The mighty vocals of Paulette Carlson evoke the classic country goddesses, with a touch of Stevie Nicks thrown in for good measure. I get the feeling that legions of honky-tonk girls have cried their eyes out to either one of these songs during or after last call. And yes, while my own brain cells have been ransacked over the years with all kinds of tampering and abuse, I swear I'm not hallucinating the Stevie Nicks part.

"Grazing in the Grass" - Hugh Masakela. Did you know he produced "Lazy Days" by the Flying Burrito Brothers? I shit you not. How did that one come about?

"Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll" - Ian Dury. Rest in Peace, Mr. Dury. Thank you for providing me with proof of life.

"Mami Me Gusto" - Ibrahim Ferrer. Get ready to pour some rum and shake your ass. This little guy just burns up a stage. Joe and I saw him at Bass Hall and were mesmerized.

"I Wanna Be Your Dog" - Iggy & the Stooges. Another air guitar favorite.

"Saint Mary of the Woods" - James McMurtry and the Heartless Bastards. James McMurtry is my shining beacon of hope for rock and roll in the year 2004. He pens a mean lyric (writing talent runs in the family - just ask his father, Larry), and wears his Band and Kris Kristofferson influences well, too, going beyond even that to create something you'll be able to recognize in ten years as "a James McMurtry." The album "Live in Aught-Three" proves my power trio theory to be completely true, and McMurtry and his bandmates make a joyful fucking noise indeed. FYI, they're playing at the Aardvark in Fort Worth next Friday, the 19th.

Speaking of which, I'm gonna fly back to the nest for now - thanks for hanging out with me today. I might be back later. We're doing sweet F.A. this weekend, hopefully.

Lust, laughs and more -

GGD.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo