tragedy strikes!*

ilsa, my trusty steed and beloved--nay, best--friend of seven years, in her heyday, looked something like this:

alas, death comes to us all. my beautiful kiwi bullet was dealt a fatal blow a few weeks back, and while she and i both fought valiantly for her life, i was ultimately forced to put her down. the tow hearse hauled her off last thursday, and now i imagine she looks more like this:

oh, cruel world that brought my darling and i together only to break both our hearts! ilsa, while being the best little dodge neon any girl could ever dream of driving, was still a dodge neon, and thus susceptible to the standard array of neon circuitry ailments. as she got on in years, her internal electronics failed one by one--first the lights, and then the stereo, and finally the locks, so that for the final year or so she was about as high-tech as your standard go-cart. i never loved her less, though, and in the last week of her life she remembered what we're all supposed to be doing with our time on this crazy rock: singing at the top of our lungs, just for the sake of the sound. in the last week she rallied, and music poured out of one heroic rear speaker like angelic trumpets calling the blessed home to rest. in my heart, i know she's at peace.

but in my dreams she still races through the winding, wooded back roads of her youth like a wild mare, running faster, faster, the fire in her heart blazing with all the mad heat of an exploding sun. they may take your wheels, little girl, and your engine and your struts and your brand new oil pan, but they'll never take your freedom.





* looking over the titles of my recent posts, one notes an unfortunate preponderance of exclamation points. have i resorted to melodrama? am i simply overcaffeinated? it matters not to me, my friends, but i apologize if the trend has at any point tired and/or startled you, as i adore you all.

tuesday half-assed blogging: the "things joon digs" issue

1. smart car!!!!! these suffocatingly adorable little critters were all over italy, and every time i saw one i wanted to run up and hug it. i held myself in check, mostly, but i did stroke a few lovingly on my way past. we couldn't understand why they weren't equally prevalent in the states, even taking into account the burning capitalist desire for military-grade recreational vehicles. turns out the real roadblock (heh heh) was bringing the car up to code with u.s. safety regulations—but their time has come. here in new england, they'll only be sold in new hampshire, connecticut, and rhode island, but that's plenty close for me. of course, i'd never get rid of my electric kiwi ilsa; my baby neon has been a true friend to me through thick and thin, and smashed, and arrested. but nothing lasts forever, and maybe by the time she exhales her last fumes i'll have enough tucked away to buy a sparkly new pod. i think she'd want me to remarry.

2. crispin porter + bogusky, the masterminds behind the sometimes bewildering, frequently unsettling, and eternally genius tv spots for the most recent burger king ad campaign. i was traumatized by their insistence that i wake up with the king, but their newest commercial for the cheesy bacon whosywhatsit is the platonic ideal of 30-second media. it's positively haunting. now, i know you've seen it, and maybe you're thinking, "come on, juniper. that's bullshit. it's a dude riding another dude who's dressed up as a chicken. whatever, i don't think you and i can be friends anymore." but there's a world of difference between seeing this commercial and watching this commercial. i need you to let go of all of your preconceptions and demands about what constitutes art, and give yourself over to the experience. trust me, my darlings, it will not go unrewarded*. i notice something new every time.

3. chad vangaalen is the dreamiest thing to come out of canada since, um, well, i bet you can guess. there is no better boy than the d.i.y. indie rocker, and chad's got it going on, what with the 4-track self-recording and the video he put together on his own. he covers all the bases and then some, too, with songs that bounce from feedback-heavy garage rock to sweetly melodic plaints. he's part thom yorke, part sufjan stevens, part something no one else can touch; i have no idea what he looks like, but i'm pretty sure i'd marry him tomorrow regardless.

4. wonder showzen, which i am not linguistically nimble enough to describe. for anyone who lives for outré humor presented in striking and peculiar contexts, though, it's something you shouldn't have to live without. the first-season dvd set came out today, so if the web site leaves your mouth watering but you don't have the fortitude to sit awake all hours of the day and night hoping mtv2 will throw you a bone, pick it up and hide it from the kids.

and i'm awful sweet on you all, too. now go out and embrace the freak show.






* it will also not make you want a sandwich, but sometimes you sacrifice a little bit of function for form. like with bulldogs.