Weird. Over the past few days, I've been visited by the phantoms of former Talking Heads front man David Byrne.
Mind you, I haven't encountered the man himself, but rather a variety of his electronic avatars. Sort of like things happen in threes? From random corners of communication, David Byrne suddenly appeared in my life. And it wasn't David Byrne, but rather a host of phantasms of Byrnes past and present, a bow wave of his presence. All occurring without any direct action from the singer himself.
First off there was a bit in BoingBoing about his latest album, which is not out of the question since they cover that kind of stuff. Then, while I'm working at home, the Lovely Bride is watching a tape of "Heroes" where there is a snatch of "Psycho Killer". Then the meatspace Byrne is in town, and the local weekly's blog talks about him as a celebrity spotting.
And then two friends from work had tickets to his show at Benaroya downtown. Great seats, an energized performance, and those in charge weren't particularly fussy about people taping, so as a result, she posted her experiences on youtube.
All of this without any additional effort on Mr. Byrne's part other than just doing his (normal, superlative) job.
I seem to be living in David Byrne's world. I'm just passing through.
Born in the 1900s
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Or: How old am I, really? I’m seeing this a lot of late, and it bugs me. It
bugs me enough that I got out my trusty Chicago Manual of Style, 18th
edition, ...
4 days ago