So, I came to the realization that I have this insanely large collection of music that's primarily based around the idea that I find it in some way:
Funny
Clever
Intelligent
or intellectually complex.
Carbon Leaf is right in the center of that, as is Metallica - done by four cellos.
I've come to the conclusion that I'm one of the few people out there who love melodic rock that doesn't run amuck naked like a retarded kid on happy drugs (*COUGH COUGH FLAMING LIPS*) There's a side to that I like and a double-fizz, but man, if you're trying to get something done or hammer through, I'd rather throw down music that I can run on a subconscious level while processing something else. But...I still come BACK to the retard kid happy drug music.
There was a study done not too long ago that directly linked pleasure regions in the brain to singing. After I figured that out, I plugged a huge selection of belt-'em-out tunes for the car and drive the forty or so minutes to work hollering at the top of my lungs. It's SO entertaining watching someone in a redneck truck see you sail past screaming "JOY TO THE WORLD, ALL THE BOYS AND GIRLS!" and catching their "What...the unholy...fuck???" expression.
But somehow it's been this bizarre thing I've been doing. Watching documentaries on physics and reading biographies of Kepler while Sesame Street plays an endless loop in the periphery. Listening to Mozart and Strauss while perusing the Chronicles of Narnia.
Either my inner child is an idiot savant or my inner intellectual has a fetish for bright colors and happy noise.
My sudden penchant for Mondrain design and color schema isn't helping me with this, either. I'm going to wind up living in the equivalent of a McDonald's habitrail, at this rate.
Funny
Clever
Intelligent
or intellectually complex.
Carbon Leaf is right in the center of that, as is Metallica - done by four cellos.
I've come to the conclusion that I'm one of the few people out there who love melodic rock that doesn't run amuck naked like a retarded kid on happy drugs (*COUGH COUGH FLAMING LIPS*) There's a side to that I like and a double-fizz, but man, if you're trying to get something done or hammer through, I'd rather throw down music that I can run on a subconscious level while processing something else. But...I still come BACK to the retard kid happy drug music.
There was a study done not too long ago that directly linked pleasure regions in the brain to singing. After I figured that out, I plugged a huge selection of belt-'em-out tunes for the car and drive the forty or so minutes to work hollering at the top of my lungs. It's SO entertaining watching someone in a redneck truck see you sail past screaming "JOY TO THE WORLD, ALL THE BOYS AND GIRLS!" and catching their "What...the unholy...fuck???" expression.
But somehow it's been this bizarre thing I've been doing. Watching documentaries on physics and reading biographies of Kepler while Sesame Street plays an endless loop in the periphery. Listening to Mozart and Strauss while perusing the Chronicles of Narnia.
Either my inner child is an idiot savant or my inner intellectual has a fetish for bright colors and happy noise.
My sudden penchant for Mondrain design and color schema isn't helping me with this, either. I'm going to wind up living in the equivalent of a McDonald's habitrail, at this rate.