Please note: MP3s are only kept online for a short time, and if this entry is from more than a couple of weeks ago, the music probably won't be available to download any more.
In the most recent version of it, this is the music used in the trailer to sell the universe to potential invenstors. I will not describe the "bud-grows-into-full-tree" time-lapse footage, nor the condensed Crusades, nor the "shrinking-microchip-space-program" montage. It's a bit Mr. Brainwash, honestly. And if you die before the deal goes through, or if you die as a result of this deal going through, you won't get to share in the spoils. Which, I'm told, are going to be pretty sweet. Everyone gets their percentage of the percentage, and a No. 2 pencil with your name engraved into it. [Pre-Order]
"Hey, look" geese fly, expressionless, in a loose shape across the sky. Must be North. Henry stares straight up at them, his shoes twisting in the mud, and squints. He blinks into the sun, and he can see some of the geese are missing feathers in their wings.
Henry is the first-born son. He is proud of this, it's a title that sounds like a prince or someone with a destiny. He is at the park with his babysitter, Carrie, who is carrying his little sister Darling, in her arms, in a pink swath. Henry's face is cold but his body underneath his jacket is hot, almost sweating.
"Do you know yet?" Henry grabs Carrie's hand and they head across the expansive field, soft with wet patches. "Know what?" Carrie knows exactly what, but says that anyway. "About your school? Did they call you?" A day last week, while they drank apple lemonade and cut construction paper shapes, Carrie had told Henry that she was waiting to hear from a very big school. She wanted to go there and they just needed to let her in. Henry did not want her to go, but also wanted her to be happy. He has asked her every day since whether she knows.
"No, they haven't called," says Carrie, the dangly ends of her dangly scarf have little shiny bits in them, and she sparkles when she walks. "Is it hard to get in?" Henry is sure he will have no problem getting in, he is the first-born son, but not everyone is so lucky. "I don't quite know," she says, her arm holding Darling getting weak, "I suppose if I don't get in, then I'll say it was hard to get in."
Henry thinks about the geese, expressionless. "I hope you don't get in," he says, knowing that she might think that was mean. Henry doesn't care; as first-born son he is entitled to his feelings.
As Sean said, thanks to Emma and Chandler for taking up the reins for me while I was away. I'm so glad you liked what they brought.
Elsewhere: Sean Dunne got in touch with me this morning about a new film he made. It's a gorgeous little doc about a country singer turned marathon runner. It's called Stray Dawg, and I recommend it highly.Posted by Dan at April 26, 2011 3:17 PM