2007-10-04 - 1:41 p.m.
I suppose if I were Glenn Danzig--and who's to say I'm not?--I would want to propagate my aesthetic indefinitely, to the point of signing bands to my label who sound just like me. There is something sort of wistful and sweet about that, while puzzling.
I took a Bikram yoga class last night for the first time in over three years, and as is the case when I haven't done it in a while, I have spent the day alternating between euphoria ("oh my god, I never REALLY noticed the color yellow before today!!!") and Visigoth-like, empire-smashing aggression. There is something about the practice that I think must over-stimulate the adrenal glands.
I have gone on at length about Bikram yoga in other forums (fora?) so I won't say too much here, but I will summarize: It is a completely evil practice, but sometimes quite fun, if you like high temperatures and donít mind the revolting smell, sticky crowded dressing rooms, ridiculous coach-banter of the instructors, exorbitant prices, and walking around with your wet clothes in a bag for the rest of the evening.
A short poem:
O, great Spirit,
thoughts? (5 comments so far)
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