So...I drink. A LOT. I am what you might call a guy who tends to drink a lot of alcohol. Don't think there's really a word for that. Connoisseur, maybe. So in...I'm going to say...October 2000...I had a little tipple or two of the ol' hooch. My friend had just downloaded this song (Napster was still a going concern, you see) and played on his Winamp. (Ah, old times.) So Winamp either defaults to instant replay, or my friend just had it set to instant replay.
So I begin to, uh, decorate the floor, let's say, with what we'll just call for propriety's sake...uh...vomit. So my friend starts to clean up his floor, which takes some time, so I lay there on the ground, zoning in an out of reality, and watching the infinite swirl of the specks in the rug. And as I did so, this extremely repetetive anthem was playing on infinite repeat, heightening the experience of absolute redundancy. It approached redunancy in a Platonic ideal sense. Obviously I survived all that, but I learned something from the experience. Well, not really. But to this day I have an affection for this song belying all its intrinsic value as art.
"Manuscripts don't burn"
- Mikhail Bulgakov
Hi, I'm horror and science fiction author Steve Kozeniewski (pronounced: "causin' ooze key.") Welcome to my blog! You can also find me on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Amazon. You can e-mail me here, join my mailing list here, or request an e-autograph here. Free on this site you can listen to me recite one of my own short works, "The Thing Under the Bed."
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