The selected tweets of Dave Nold.
Quiet, I’m trying to blog here.
The oldest member of the new breed
Please, my friends call me Dave.
Just click and create.
This American Life on Mars.
Use your small print voice.
Two working titles for movies: “When Logos Collide” and/or “Where Bald Men Sit”.
Someone is playing “Discreet Music” really loud.
Among the things I wish I said in 1983: “MTV is an invention without a future”
I asked Bobby Dylan. I asked the Beatles. I asked Neil Sedaka, but he couldn’t tell me either.
For a few minutes today I thought I shared a birthday with Lois Aragon. I was mistaken.
Pop Song [Tune]
A white horse stands up
And that’s the small hotel at dawn where he who is always first-come-first-served awakes in
Are you going to spend your entire life in this same world
Haven’t you had enough of commonplaces yet
People actually look at you without laughter
They have glass eyes
You pass them by you waste your time you pass away and go away
You count up to a hundred during which you cheat to kill an extra ten seconds
You hold up your hand suddenly to volunteer for death
There will be just one day left and then one more after that
That will be that
No more need to look at men nor their companion animals their Good Lord provides
And that they make love to now and then
No more need to go on speaking to yourself out loud at night in order to drown out
The heating-unit’s lament
No need to lift my own eyelids
Nor to fling my blood around like some discus
Nor to breathe despite my disinclination to
Yet despite this I don’t want to die
In low tones the bell of my heart sings out its ancient hope
That music I know it so well but the words
Just what were those words saying