This use of language is an easy way to confuse a simpler reader enough to scare him from the passage and place the writer on a pedestal above his assumed grasp of literature. It is a simple way to sound smart, when nothing is really being said.
this is a blog and I failed at my attempt to write in serial, I went on a trip to Vancouver, and interesting on at that. Modest Mouse was a wonderful show, a space age jam that was second to none. I laughed as I heard people walked out because of the changes from the recorded versions of songs. I touted myself as Captain Sobriety the entire concert, declining all but one sip of wine. This may have been a foreshadowing to the rest of the week.
On Tuesday I found myself wandering around Commercial Drive in Vancouver and came across a wonderful little hole in the wall with incredible sausage meals for 5 dollars. The beer was a reasonably priced local Brewery, Granville Island Pale Ale and I found myself in graceful company. I wandered away to find jazz and wound up in the Libra Room listening to a jazz pianist accompanied by some great horn players. The music stopped. After enjoying their final song I was informed by the last few notes I was in the wrong bar. This fear was stamped and delivered by the two men gazing forlorn into my eyes. I left this bar.
I wandered aimlessly back to Falconetti's on 2nd and Commercial and listened to the Morgan Child Trio, who were accompanied by some young cat on Clarinet. This jazz was something truly west coast. The steady rhythms pulsed around the narrow bar effecting each of us separately. My friends arrived and I was infatuated by the saxophone, conducting below the table like a madman drinking alone. I had a smoke with a nice man from Turks, and rolled back in to Falconetti's. The drums powerful emotion dropped my eyes below my head and I drank happily with some new friends.
Toots and the Maytals was incredible. I drank far too much. I harassed bums and offered them help changing. I stumbled in circles to the Roots jam in a drunken smash, barely able to keep my drink afloat. I spilled a tables worth of somewhat free drinks over myself and the ground. The mayhem and sin and the clash against love created a foul dynamic with smiles all around. Its crescendo was the moment I found myself gushing to the lead guitarist "You hit them notes that don't even exist man.. The ones you stumble away from!" and turned away, took two steps and hit the bare dance floor. A friend reached to pick me up and a hopped to my feet.
I had a good time in Vancouver,
Good fun had by most.