Monday, March 2, 2009


Lou Reed:
Satellite of

Satellites gone, Way up to mars
Soon it will be filled, With parking cars

I watch it for a little while
I love to watch things on tv

Satellite of love
Satellite of love

A satellite is defined by the object it orbits. A physicist will tell you that the satellite is forever falling toward its attractor, yet paradoxically we can all see that it never gets any nearer. To get closer, it would need to lose its own forward motion, and would soon be burned.

Juxtaposing cold ultramodern technology and primeval fundamental emotion, the poor solitary Satellite Of Love is, "SOL, SOL, SOL--out of luck."

Going "way up to mars" is adventurous. Filling it with "parking cars" transforms the exotic to the mundane, worthy not of getting off the sofa. tv is voyeuristic--a decidedly one-way communication. One can drop dead watching life on tv.

Things gone "right up to the skies," generally will not return. When one is driven out of one's mind, it can be by a thing one loves, despises or both. To drive you really out of your mind, probably both. After such a drive, one parks it on Mars.

The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain on France 2:

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