pantoum's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- SHOWER SCENE No, this is not an entry about Psycho, although I have had nightmares about that shower scene. I actually wanted to write about why I added the category Singing In the Shower to my morning entries. Sure it's fun, but I also wanted to bring a touch of surrealism to my blog, since what comes out of my mouth when I'm not paying attention is so damn random and that I choose to believe that I would never voluntarily blurt out "Hey Baby, I'm your telephone man (you can show me where you want it and I'll put it where I can)" or "Rubberband Man starts to jam, moving up and down across the land" or "my ding-a-ling, my ding-a-ling, I want you to play with my ding-a-ling" or "Oh yes they call it the streak, boogie-dad, boogie-dad!" Surrealism is based on the belief in the superior reality of association, in the supreme authority of the dream, in the disinterested play of our unfettered thought processes. And it explores the overthrow of authority. Max Ernst says there is no such thing as individual talent, that the legend of individual creativity is one of the last and most ridiculous of the superstitions with which civilization is encumbered. The active, constructive, initiatory role of the artist is a myth, he says, because all one has to do, in reality, is swing open the doors to our unconscious and play host to the inexhaustible stock of images [or songs] that come flooding in. André Breton takes this notion further. He says Surrealism stands "for the reinstatement of the rights of [hu]man[ity]" and imagines a future continent upon which all men and women will tread freely as equals. All of which begs for an answer to the question Well, what did you sing this morning, Bird? Well, I sang I Got Friends in Low Places by Garth Brooks, that's what. And here is a confession: A few years ago, my pal Operagrrl and several glasses of champagne convinced me to sing this very song with her during the karaoke portion of a New Year's Eve party by saying Oh come on, Bird, you know I can't hit those low notes. 9:41 a.m. - 2005-03-10 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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