Everybody wants to get on the Van Gogh boat. There’s no trip so horrible that someone won’t take it. The idea of the unrecognized genius slaving away in a garot is deliciously foolish one
How dare the Gods work against me! I don’t remember giving them permission.
Are you a god?
I’m a god. I’m not the God. I don’t think.
The last miracle I did was the 1969 Mets. Before that, I think you have to go back to the Red Sea.
How about them Dodgers? Are they bums or what?
There seems to be a mistake. Olsen’s hitting the ball.
Keep hittin’em in the ribs ya see? Don’t let that bastard breathe!
I’m getting too old for this shit.
I’ve got a bad feeling about this.
I feel bad about this! I feel really, really bad about this! Just let me feel bad about this!
I never did mind about the little things.
Honey, I shrunk the kids.
So you’re a southern girl. A real American honey like me. You know that song?
Oh, I wish I was in Dixie…
I’m wishing (I’m wishing)
For the one I love
To find me (to find me)
Today (today)
I’m hoping (I’m hoping)
And I’m dreaming of
The nice things (the nice things)
He’ll say (he’ll say)
When you wish upon a star,
Makes no difference who you are,
Everything your heart desires
Will come to you.
If everything’s ready here on the Dark Side of the Moon… play the five tones.
I don’t want any of this lover’s lament crap. I want something peppy, something happy, something up-tempo. I want something snappy.
My problem is the repetitiveness. Y’know… wine, women, and whiteline fever, over and over. Whereas, progressive is existential. You got these chromatic melodies, right? To use for, like, a springboard into all kinds of experiments. Even the backbeat is full of nuances. You know that there’s a central rhythmic idea going on, but you’re never quite sure when it’s going to pop up. Now, you-you put your, ah, your-your counterpoint on top of that, your passing tones, your arpeggios, your polyrhythms, your parallel scales, your focal harmonies… and it’s uncertain, right? It’s exploratory. It’s like life.