No Really, Swaddled in Technicolor

The last few days have been good, though I wake up with drool on my pillow from dreams of knives in my back. Bloody, really.

Really, though, "Diamonds" is kind of much better and much worse than I thought; the whole 60's spy vibe reminds me more of the Propellerheads than anything else, and the vocal nip just eventually reminds me of the feline pupil dilation in the video for "Ms. Jackson." It makes me cry a little bit too, the Live 8 roster is appalling, but we struggle in the ways we know how. I think it's interesting that he flipped the controversy on himself a little bit (in contrast to the documentarian Dropout). Plus, it's a pretty good anthem for the global economy- twisted, conflicted, blending guilt and celebration; it's cooler in the shade, but it's also darker. For a picture on acid through Yves Saint-Laurent glasses, the black and white video also got my interest, though I guess it could be some crap-exotic Herb Ritts thing too.