Clearly doing something new here, mucking around with page layouts while standing up other portions of the site and making these PDFs legible on a desktop. I have no problem with anyone seeing the dust, but please pardon it.
Click here to head down to the playlist, and the arrow to bring you back.
This playlist was a strange pleasure to put together.
I had a deadly level of disinterest in making it. Having drawn up plans for each show's theme at the beginning of the year, I allowed myself plenty of room for throwing out those plans if they came to disinterest me in one way or another.
Episode 15.1 was the first instance in which a draft went out the window. I needed to marinate in some Bowie, and so I did. (There is an Episode 15.2; it's for members only. ["How do I become a member?" None of your business yet.]) Episode 17's went out the window, too. Then, I felt the need for the Beatles and the timing worked out, late as it was, to fulfill an obligation of sorts.
That left Episode 16, and sandwiched between a couple countdown lists, I figured it was worth my time to make it three-for-three. It was fun sitting in a hotel late at night, building the playlist and overindulging in nearly every way. The next morning was hot and my head felt waterlogged, but it also felt good.
I greeted today with aches and pains and an understanding that I'd be throwing this episode's theme out as well. But in actuality, I gathered some leftover songs from previous attempts across previous iterations, and soon it felt like I was working with a very cautious, very sedate group of sensations: the me sitting before the computer; the me from weeks ago, working on instinct and little rest, savagely cutting from future episodes and stealing ideas from the me from months ago; the weather, which is cold and rainy here, and may seemingly be a permanent state.
There's a lie that's floated about forever that what's important is to work, even if the result is imperfect. It's a lie because it ignores an innate desire to do well; to put our best foot forward, even if we're alone with the page or the paints or the instrument. A hearty "fuck that" to that sentiment. Attempt your brilliance. If you're smart, you'll come back to your work and make it better. And do so repeatedly until the result isn't even yours anymore: it belongs to three or four or five of you, and the weather, and your breakfast, and a dog you saw that one time, and that night you shared drinks with that Australian...
Part Three of a Stalemate script follows below. Start on page 12 per the counter, if you're caught up.