the funny thing about dril posts is that they actually do have a structure to them– they hit a kind of conceptual caesura halfway through, a point where there’s no inevitable logical connection between what’s been said and what’s still to come. here, the first sentence didn’t need to result in the second, yet it’s not “lol random” either; the speaker is angry about his boss’ draconian ferret-kissing policy, and reacts in kind, and even the reference to a “screen saver” reminds us that we’re in an office. it’s a narrative progression that, despite having an internal logic, alienates its punchline from its setup. who the hell is this person?
one thing i love about @dril posts is how they all seem to take place in a universe that is somewhat like our own, but with the habitus of white middle america taken to a bizarre, absurd, but strangely logical conclusion. take this one, for instance:
so we have our setting: a security guard protecting the american flag in the betsy ross museum, something almost archetypically american and middle class. but once again the first part, or setup, for the punchline, “fucking the flag,” careens the joke into an alien punchline that still, given the setting, makes sense. @dril’s security guard character imitates a sort-of cop-talk, the banter of a security guard, “buddy, they wont even let me fuck it”. you can imagine a similar response from a guard at any museum, but we’re talking about Fucking the American Flag, here.
i really love @dril.
it’s astonishing that a human being thinks of those posts. some person, someone out there whose existence we have to infer, because all we know is that those posts occur and they must be coming from somewhere. “the @dril tweeter” resonates as “the beowulf poet” does, except beowulf (which i’ve only read in translation, so i’m not an authority) has never made any use of the english language as baffling and sublime and somehow primally interlaced with the stuff of human consciousness as “IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL.”
Sophie Ellis-Bextor - Do You Remember The First Time? (Live at Maida Vale) (by BBC Radio 2)
I’m simply not allowed to detail the reasons I adore this.
Frank Sinatra - For A While (1970) (by elijahlupe)
The composer of most of the songs on Sinatra’s 1970 album Watertown was Bob Gaudio, who’d written pop gems like ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’, ‘Walk Like A Man’, ‘Big Girls Don’t Cry’, ‘Oh, What A Night’ and ‘Short Shorts’.
As should be apparent from ‘For A While’, this album turned out slightly differently from those songs and from Sinatra’s prior output. Poorly received critically and commercially, it’s a concept album about loss. Per Wikipedia:
In a series of soliloquies, the nameless narrator tells his heartbreaking story of personal loss; his wife has left him and their two boys for the lure of the big city.
(There are other interpretations.)
This is essentially Sinatra’s Berlin and it’s by far my favourite thing that he ever did. Even if I can’t listen to it very often.
Julie Felix and Leonard Cohen - Hey, That’s No Way To Say Goodbye (BBC, 1968) (by tallowmanoldies)
I can imagine how the rest of their evening went.