dyslexic begonias

So ends another weekend. We (stardances and I) were hoping to have a quiet weekend to ourselves, just cleaning and organizing and having a very quiet, uneventful time of it. But the lives of teenagers are SO uncertain - it turns out that the Troll Queen decided to stay with us rather than visit her father this weekend. And so there were three. It wasn't really too much noisier, however, since she had a number of activities to participate in that didn't include us, and also had quite a bit of homework to do. We all have a bit of home work, when it comes down to it. There is so much to do around the house that needs attention.
I've just ordered a new computer for work (hurrah, because this one won't run Neverwinter Nights, it's just THAT ancient) and it should be arriving within the next five to seven days (right about the time that Hurricane Isadore will arrive, I'm sure). In preparation for that, we are trying to organize the foyer so that I can have my “office” isolated a bit more from the rest of the house; that way, everyone gets to use the front room while I'm working, and I'll have a bit of space that I can set up as my writing area for those hours that I'm not working. Think of it as my study ... I'm looking forward to figuring out all the organization, and I'm also looking forward to getting the Painting Room organized so that Star can have her bit of creative space as well. I think it will do us both a world of good. I'm thinking that what Star needs for Yule this year is a drafting table ... :) This weekend after payday I'm going to run out and find her a wonderful magnifying glass so she can examine the flora close up and personal...
I've immersed myself in a very intense reading program right now, trying to prepare myself to begin writing new material with a vengeance >:->. My current reading list is as follows:
Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Vol. I -- This is a very wonderful book. Gibbon is one of the only non-contemporary historians (a contemporary historian would be someone that wrote about their own time, like Herodotus or Julius Caesar) that wrote before this century that is still considered a valid source of information. His prose is a bit dry, but I find it good reading and his philosophical interpretation is tenable. Right now, I've just finished up with Severus and am heading into the first of the Barbarian incursions.
Kenneth Lyon, Hemingway -- This biography is quite thick; because I am a VERY fast reader (for example, the Lord of the Rings trilogy takes me about two days to read), I like to find books with a bit of heft to them, and this one certainly fit the bill. I've become interested in reading about writers, and trying to figure out where they were in their lives when they wrote whatever they wrote. Hemingway is a great study in contradictions; reminds me of my father at times, and at other times, reminds me of myself, particularly at those times I don't particularly care for myself. But his writing style I like very much. Less is more. Sometimes, much more.
Lady Charlotte Guest, The Mabinogion -- A classic of Celtic mythology, albeit due to the time of its translation, perhaps a bit over romanticized. I try to keep at least one culture's mythos nearby to dip into - Edith Hamilton's Greek Mythology was something I had to read in high school and I've liked it ever since.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays and English Traits -- I admit it, I'm a bad scholar. I inherited the five foot shelf of books that comprise the Harvard Classics Library a few years ago, and sadly have not read too many volumes. For some reason, when I was looking for something to give my reading variety the other day, I picked up the Emerson volume. Two essays in particular, The American Scholar and Self Reliance I am particularly struck by. Many of Emerson's interpretations of books and their uses is echoed in Allan Bloom's The Closing of the American Mind ... amazing how the course of 150 years has not changed the basic outlook for Americ
an intellectualism all that much.
e.e. cummings, 100 Selected Poems -- I've always liked cummings as a poet, even mimicked him to some degree during my Memphis years, particularly regarding capitalization, sentence run ons, etc.
Lewis Turco, The Book of Forms: A Handbook of Poetics -- This book I highly recommend for anyone who is interested in learning about different poetic forms, particularly if you're interested in being a poet who writes verse (i.e., lines that have a specific word count, meter, emphasis, etc.) as opposed to prose (i.e., unmetered text).
I'm still anticipating with bated breath the arrival of my two new books, Heny Miller's On Writing and The Books in My Life. I foresee that just as he was a turning point for me at 28 (the year he started writing, too) when I first picked up the Tropics, Miller will get me started on something more grandiose that I probably can currently imagine. Through Henry Miller I started accumulating a repertoire of authors and really began to become well-read.
To close, here's a thought from one of my journals about a year ago:
A sentence represents a period of time.
Within that period of time,
the verbs are the lessons,
and the nouns are the tests.

Well, I just spent a harrowing three days getting my new computer up and running. Switching from 2000 Professional to XP Professional, upgrading Office from 2000 to XP, switching from a USB modem connection to Ethernet, re-installing all my software, restoring every e-mail message, document, downloaded file and website ... all this, mind you, in the midst of Tropical Storm Isidore.

No sleep for the wicked, I guess. But now I'm back up and running, and other than networking my old PC into the loop so I don't have to fiddle with transferring EVERYTHING at once, and so I can take advantage of the additional storage space, my trials with respect to switching OS and computer and all that are coming to a close.

Now if I could just find something interesting to write about ... hmmm ...

Sitting here waiting in New Orleans between the weather induced by tropical storm Isidore and hurricane Lili, I am thinking about the negative space, the shadow between events, the silence between the notes that makes a succession of events a melody, the patterns of rise and fall that make a life. The lull between storms. I understand that place very well. It seems as if all my life that has been a place where I can be found. When I was growing up, my existence was defined as those periods between things - whether they were my father's explosive interactions with me, experiences of popularity split by long stretches of isolation, wild creative bursts of inspiration separated by deep, dark nothing depressions, times when poems and songs and stories and words just flowed endlessly from me, overflowing the levees and seeping into all parts of my world that too often passed and left me standing in stagnant, brooding water.

Every artistic or creative person at some time, in some fashion, embraces this manic-depressive cycle, anticipates it, longs for it. It is, after all, the interaction with the muses that sparks the electricity, jerks us out of the mundane and into the magickal, pulls us from the ordinary and sometimes quite painfully drags us into proximity to the extraordinary. A coastline between hurricanes is like an artist who has worked in oils and after a period of inactivity begins to work in clay - an artist between mediums is a very unpredictable force. To me, this is a natural state. I know that this void will soon be filled with lightning, storms, torrential rains, buffeting winds and rising tides. I can feel the undertow growing even now, a sense in the pit of my stomach that tells me that once again, I have failed to rest well in preparation for the upcoming time of trial. For it is a trial, getting through the mania in one piece, finding enough focus to get it all down in a manner that expresses it adequately, seeking the calm center of the eye so that the squalls of the eye wall don't drag me too far off course, destroying the civilized place where I hunker down, waiting and watching the sky for signs of significance. As Annie Lennox once sang, “here comes the rain again.” As Robert Zimmerman put it, “a hard rain's a-gonna fall.”

Just when I was pondering the fate of being a “renaissance” man in what I have come to call the New Dark Ages, my daily horoscope arrives. As I was chuckling over the fact that if it were your wedding, I could (and have) done the following:

Produced, arranged and recorded with you a song for your fiancee, adding lead guitar and backing vocals
Helped you write the wedding vows
Organized the guest list and sent out invitations, using a self-written mailer database program
Decorated the hall
Composed, orchestrated and conducted the string quartet for the wedding procession
Performed the ceremony (as an ordained minister)
Baked the cake, cooked the food
Lead the reception band and/or d.j.'d the party
Built the website commemorating the event ...
Taught your children English, history, science, math, choral and instrumental Music, philosophy and religious history
Done your taxes
Written your divorce settlement ...

And the horoscope reads...

Are you going in every direction without being able to figure out where to go? You are a whirling dervish of activity, yet you make no progress. It is clear that this is the time for you to stop your frenzied activity in favor of reevaluating your life goals. Are they your goals, Greybeard, or those of your family? You are travelling some old, well-worn paths. Why not blaze a trail all your own?

Ah, what a challenge it is to be a true bard in these modern times...LOL

Well, here are the result of another test ...

Take the Multiple Intelligence Inventory

This week is “Spirit Week” at our daughter's high school, and of course, as one of the beautiful people, she is anxious to participate in as many of the events, as enthusiastically as possible. I think it's all well and good to have “school spirit”, to be proud of the environment in which you have been (usually somewhat abitrarily, but in this case, via testing in and living in the right parish) placed in order to further your education that you might have life, abundantly, with more than a minimum wage job. However, I am reminded of the somewhat harsh attitude that the “beautiful people” have towards those not quite so blessed, physically, socially or gracefully. And as I remember back to my own high school days, I am offended by the “Dress Like a Nerd Day” and other such high points. To make it fair, I think they should also have “Dress Like an Ignorant Project Dweller” ... that way, those nerds (and oh, I remember being one oh so well) will have less to write in their grudge books against the day when they run Microsoft and can refuse the ex-cheerleaders and footballers a job. But that would be too close to home, IPD day. They would have to walk through neighborhoods where some of those people live, with their straighened hair, vinyl clothes, prison-quality tattoos, gold teeth, hair nets, bad weaves, and so on. And the beautiful people might not be so beautiful after that experience. At least with the nerds, they are safely betting that no one is going to challenge or offer to beat them up.

The problem, of course, with Dress Like a Nerd Day is that the people that they are making fun of don't lack fashion sense because they have an excess of brains. Their concern is not with appearance first, which of course is a direct and harsh affront to the beautiful people who favor substance over style. They dress for comfort, and dress more cheaply, because their parents (bless 'em every one) decided that their children would be better off having $200 worth of books rather than $200 sneakers.

But the beautiful people will have their way, of course. And the terrible thing is that the only people who are interested in “dorking” themselves out and dressing “nerdy” are those people who could wear potato sacks and still look good. They aren't sacrificing anything by dressing down (except, as earlier noted, the potential for a second interview with the Bill Gates of the future). They are not dressing up as geeks to proclaim unity of the intelligent masses. They are being, as of course, teenagers will be except when it directly affects their own, personal sense of well-being, mean-spirited, cruel and ugly. The geeks know it. And most of the teachers do to - because most of them have been there on the receiving end.

So what's my point? Who the fuck knows. It just irritates me that some things never change. Oh, yeah, I forgot. Some things do. Beauty fades. Styles change. Substance remains.

Life is good, after all :)

Which famous film murderer are you?
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Dear readers: It has been a long time since my last confession (i.e., entry) ... oops, sorry, wrong forum.

I am finding it difficult to carve out time to make any sort of meaningful entries in this journal. Perhaps it is true that when you have a life, you don't need art. After all, to paraphrase Stanislavski, the stage, the arts, and all that is merely an imitation of life. If you have the genuine article, then there is no need to fabricate alternatives. Or perhaps that is all just bullshit. Is it that my busyness is that consuming, that I don't have time to sit and reflect upon it, or that I find myself slowly but surely sinking into a state where even grasping at coherent, intelligent thoughts that can be conveyed in sentences is becoming a chore?

Truthfully, I have to state quite bluntly that the only thing that being an intellectual has ever done for me is to get me in serious life-threatening situations (most of those self-imposed due to the self-medication that was required once I started seeing the big picture in Technicolor). Now, as my vices pathetically dwindle to a slow stream of cigarettes that must be smoked outside, under the carport, I wonder.

What exactly I wonder about is in question, I suppose. I do ponder why Republican candidates for the Senate think that my e-mail address is a good target for their non-inclusive, education-denying, class-identity, self-righteous and finger-pointing propaganda. I also wonder why there are so few heterosexual, non-polygamist male pagans. Something I also debate, with myself, is that there seems to be no virtual alternative to the literati coffeeshop, where one can share Poetry, thoughts on the intrusion of chaos theory into the entrophy that is American life, observations on Music and so on. Or maybe that is just my perception.

I am immersed right now in reading Collected Fictions, by the Argentine Jorge Luis Borges. He is one of my favorite authors of all time -- it almost makes me want to revisit all the Spanish I learned in high school so I can read, understand and appreciate him in his original language. I have known a couple of Argentinians in my life, and they seemed to me to be a people with a very diverse set of interests. Borges, of course, is no exception to that generalization, and he constantly refers to sources that I also have interest in - the Sufis, Taoism, etc. I would have to say that Borges and Henry Miller are my two greatest literary heroes at the moment. Whatever that means.

More later, one can only suppose ...

Couldn't resist using the title from one of my short stories ...

Perhaps this is continuing more of my mental somnambulism (see my previous entry for an exploration of thought-reducing politics), but I am perplexed with a number of things today.

First, why is it that after an election, if you vote Democrat, that you are immediately innundated with solicitous mail from any number of “liberal” organizations - Greenpeace, Sierra Club, ACLU, People for the American Way, Amnesty International, etc...all looking for money? Do they have some in with the exit poll people that gives them insight into which voters are “dirty pinko commie fag junkies” and therefore are susceptible to their particular brand of propaganda? Perhaps it's just that as of late, I've become more and more sensitive to propaganda, but to use an older expression, this sticks in my craw. I know these organizations do things that I approve of, as a whole, but I also realize that programs won't solve the problem. The problem is a societal bias against intelligent and inter-connected existence. The problem is that our culture believes that such a thing as “prehistory” exists. We all labor under the delusion that while Darwin was right about oh so many things, suddenly and miraculously with the appearance of homo erectus erectus the two million year chain of “moving towards” and modification and growth suddenly ended. Lo and behold, humans were created and it was finished. For all you anti-Christianity mavens out there, your story is starting to sound a bit familiar. End of the food chain, eh? Immune to the laws of selective, natural competition, are we? Sounds a bit like man was created to rule the earth, to have dominion over all its creations. Hmmm...

Second, with respect to the election, again, I suppose...

If I were to run for public office (which I guarantee you will NEVER EVER happen, despite of the Sufi proverb that says 'Never name the well from which you will not drink'), the only way that I could ethically, morally and spiritually do such a thing is to state, upfront - my agenda is not Republican, Democrat, Green or Reform. I do not represent, nor do I wish to be constrained by, the limited vision of a national agenda which cannot by its very nature take into consideration the local, individual, personal and unique people that I represent. Neither am I an Independent - rather, I am an Interdependent. I hereby state that I am forming a party that is not a party, with an agenda that is not an agenda. Political action committees - I know your nature. Nothing was ever created, solved, invented, improved or mitigated by committee. I cherish the individual, but that does not make me a Objectivist, Libertarian or any other joiner. I represent the individual people in my jurisdiction, those who have trusted me to represent THEM, and the community they represent. Now, this may not always be easy - for change is the only constant, and this is a world in which what yesterday was secure and steadfast is tomorrow tattered and rusted. We MUST grow as a people, as communities, we must accept personal responsibility for the lives that we are living. And we must accept personal responsibility for our actions. Those that heal, and those that harm. Those that build, and those that destroy. Those that we are willing to parade in public, wrapped in flags, and those that we hide beneath sheets, behind closed doors, in our closets and under our breath. We cannot survive without each other - that is a great risk to have to make, to TRUST. And it is a great responsibility. It is NOT a national agenda, it is a personal agenda.

Oh, how I ramble ... somebody, give me a melatonin and put me to bed....

What Kind of Coffee Are You?
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You are French-press coffee.
You are full of body and sensuality, and you love to be sipped and savored at leisure...
though you can get cold rather quickly.

I've been thinking about the differences between my friends who are optically-oriented versus those who are aurally-inclined, and the variations in perception (a visual word) that result from that dichotomy. As a Musician, I have found that more often than not, I process the world based on what it sounds like, rather than what it looks like. A lot of other Musicians (at least the ones that tend towards inclusive, more positive works) also seem to be aurally inclined, whereas many artists tend to the visual (which seems to make some sense to me). In his book The Third Ear: On Listening to the World (which I have learned is unfortunately out of print), Joachim-Ernst Berendt talks about the differences between a world in which the truth as conveyed by the ear and one in which the primary information gathering device is the eye. One of the things that his research has found is that most of the words in our language (English) that relate to deception, misperception, illusion and doubt are eye-related words (words that find their etymological origin in vision metaphors), whereas there are few, if any, that are ear-based. In other words, the eye may lie, but the ear is much more unlikely to do so. He also indicates that the mechanisms for information-gathering are quite different - the eye takes us out into the world, while the ear brings the world into us. Another fascinating aspect is that the spectrum of light that we can actually see is a much smaller percentage of the whole than the audible range of sound that we can process. And so on.

Anyway, I thought I would take a poll of those who happen upon this entry to see what the consensus is.

When in doubt of where to go, Musically, when questioning one's ability to hear harmonic structures, to find the “in” groove or chord, or if just in need of a general aural cleansing, there is nothing that will substitute for Ornette Coleman.

I first experienced Ornette's harmolodics at Berklee, where often friends and I would spend late nights “with the double quartet of Coleman's Free Jazz: A Improvision by the Double Quartet barrelling forth from the speakers like the Mongol horde” (a quote from my journals at the time). Now, when you want to learn about phrasing, you turn to Miles' Sketches of Spain; when you want close-knit harmony that weaves in and out around the beat, I always like to put on The Gerry Mulligan Songbook; and when needing to hear just how much you can do in just two choruses (and how anything more than that is simply unnecessary, if you do it right), there's nothing like Charlie Parker. Doesn't matter what your instrument is, or what style you think you play. If you want to focus on these aspects of Music, here's where the clues are.

But if you want to know the secret of space, to stretch your ears, to cut to the bare bones, there's no substitute for Ornette Coleman. Just like James Brown can teach you, particularly on Love Power Peace (live in Paris, 1971) that there is nothing outside of a groove, Ornette can help you understand just how melodic the entire world is. Ah...but I digress...

Did I mention that it makes great headphone Music?

Back to my wonderful cup of tea, a darkened room, and that plastic saxophone ...

Here's a poem that I wrote after listening, one evening in Memphis, to Ornette, while discussing Ezra Pound and Gertrude Stein over endless strong coffee ...

plastic pocket harmolodics

(1993)

run down changeling boots the funk
improve the shunned extractionary
stove in traction rips rough ready
pockets not for inner sanctums

cherry cola cough surrender
queasy compton did the mother
freaking heat in slumber tumble
xray eyelids slip the winking

bop the bird the sticky finger
fallen anglos sin cojones
open quiet quick and greasy
down the town round wound up lounging

run down starlings cop the mutants
the groove pontificates for shiva
flip the whip trip banned in boston
coleman-nation green and hunchbacked

cherry copper coated kicks
mazaltov and off the mother
speaking shit in rumble mumble
x the spot where malcolm put it

stop the word the slippery jungle
pent up houses of the holy
open skies bleed hard and humble
central busts the changes open.

peace, y'all.

Some people like Mozart in the morning to get their brains going (at least, that's one of the prevailing theories, that in particular Mozart's quartets and quintets are counterpoint that causes your neurons to fire in an order conducive to enhanced synapse activity - on a par with getting a processor accelerator for your PC, which is what the brain is, albeit its artificial intelligence we as OEM installations tend to think is less artificial than other types of intelligence). Oh, how I go on ...

Anyway, while some prefer Mozart, I think it's essential to swing a little early on, and yet find something that will jerk you (gently, of course, it is the butt-crack of dawn) out of your alpha-state. For this delicate task, I have found there is nothing better than a little Dave Brubeck - in particular, his quartet's classic albums Time Out and Time Further Out. The former, of course, is almost immediately recognizable; the latter is more than more of the same, and I in particular like the Maori-influenced selections. Not quite as culturally-savant as, say, Jazz Impressions of Japan ... when I saw Bru in 1994, he and his current group played some selections from that overlooked gem ... quite wonderful indeed.

Something is missing from the stereophonic records of the present ... something that, if you listen to older rock records, and most jazz from the 50's and 60's, you'll find in spades. That is, of course, STEREO separation. Different instruments on the right and the left, without bleed over; you know, the kind of recordings where if your left car speaker is out, you don't hear half the tune (only, for example, the “spangle-lang” of Elvin Jones without the cascading sheets of 'Trane). The Beatles albums had this wonderful feature; most great psychedelic era bands knew how to use it (although not always judiciously). It gives your brain something to think about, separate chunks to process, different paths to interact with. And there is, as a result of this ONLY REASON TO RECORD IN STEREO, something that is so definitely, desparately and sadly lacking from most modern recordings --- space.

Oh, but I digress (actually, how can it be a digression when it is the tangent that is more satisfying than the main course) ...

Morning, ya'll...

There is a book by Kenny Werner called Effortless Mastery: Liberating the Master Musician Within that I cannot recommend more highly to anyone who thinks they ever were, ever wanted to be, or ever will be a Musician. The introduction to this book is so personally moving to me; it describes almost exactly what I feel being a Musician is all about. I don't think Kenny would mind if I shared it here with you - perhaps it will convince you to purchase the book (and its accompanying CD of guided meditations) for yourselves.

There is an ocean. It is a drop of consciousness, an ocean of bliss. Each one of us is a drop in that ocean. In that sense, we are all one - or as a famous American television commercial states, “We're all connected.” Illusion would have us think that we are all separate entities, separate drops. But if that were true, we would all evaporate rather quickly.

As we expand our limited selves into this infinite consciousness, we tap into a great network of infinite possibilities, infinite creativity - great, great power. Carried by the waves of this ocean, we swirl past all limitations and maximize our potential. Everything good that can possibly happen to us, from within and without, does. Our abilities expand beyond all reasonable limits, and we become a magnetic force for abundant light and all that that implies.

We are all part of a universal game. Returning to our essence while living in the world is the object of the game. The earth is the game board, and we are the pieces on the board. We move around and around until we remember who we really are, and then we can be taken off the board. At that point, we are no longer the game-piece, but the player; we've won the game.

As Musicians/healers, it is our destiny to conduct an inward search, and to document it with our Music so that others may benefit. As they listen to the Music coming through us, they too are inspired to look within. Light is being transmitted and received from soul to soul. Gradually, the planet moves from darkness to light. We as Musicians must surrender to the ocean of our inner selves. We must descend deep into that ocean while the sludge of the ego floats on the surface. We let go of our egos and permit the Music to come through us and do its work. We act as the instruments for that work.

If we can live in this realization, we will constantly have deep motivation for what is played, never getting stuck in the ungrateful consciousness of good gigs/bad gigs, out-of-tune pianos, low fees, ungracious audiences, and so on. Instead, our minds will be consumed with what a very great privilege it is to be the one selected to deliver the message to others. We will no longer be caught in the mundane world of good Music/bad Music (“am I playing well?”). Instead, our hearts and minds will be focused on the task of remaining empty and alert to receiving this inspired information and translating it faithfully, without any coloration from us.

- Kenny Werner, Effortless Mastery

Enjoy the day, ya'll...

You know, this might be funny IF I hadn't lived with two guys from London (actually, off Picadilly Circus) and their mum in an apartment that constantly smelled of bangers and mash, poached fish and pork-n-beans-on-toast, that had a five-by-five foot map of the London underground hanging on the wall. That wasn't particularly funny ... except that when the three of us blokes would go out, most of the girls thought that THEY were faking their accents and I was the one from England ... LOL ... of course, the even FUNNIER part is that me mum's grandfather was from Ireland, Waterford County, so it's not POSSIBLE for me to be English, right? We're of black Irish stock. Hmmm... I sense the radio bringing me a superset of “the Canterbury sound” ...

I guess it's really a pretty simplistic quiz. You know some British (English, rather) slang, recognize a few monuments and seaside towns, and all of a sudden you're a native. If only it worked that way for real. Of course, I now live in the southern USA, and I'll NEVER be considered a Southerner as long as I live ... I just don't have it in me.

Jolly good, wot! Anyone for tennis? That'll be ten ponies, guv. You're the epitome of everything that is english. Yey :) Hoist that Union Jack!

How British are you?
this quiz was made by alanna

What type of LotR fan are you?
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This article on Bill Wyman got me thinking this morning about a theory that I've been toying with for years:
Wyman: The Stones Would Have No Chance Today

That theory, my friends, is the Rock and Roll Color Wheel. It starts with the premise, not mine, but borrowed from a source I can't at present recall, that rock and roll bands originate by and large from one of three basic starting points:

If you write based on the melodic content, your primary influence is the Beatles
If you write based on the riff or groove, your primary influence is the Stones
If you write based on the chord structure or mood, your primary influence is the Who

This basic premise can be very primitively illustrated using a color chart concept.

This chart obviously oversimplifies a number of factors (i.e., the Beatles were influenced by Sun Records and world Music at certain points in their career; likewise, the Who also were attuned to a lot of rhythm and blues; in the later permutations, many of the bands such as Led Zeppelin, Sabbath, Yes, etc., mixed elements of each of the three source groups - quite often, their “color” was in reality more brown, a mixing pot - this chart only shows their primary color as an influence on later groups). However, I think the basic premise is sound.

There is much that can be done to further describe each stage on this color chart:

For bands in the blue spectrum, there tends to be an additional emphasis on instrumental virtuosity (for example, John Entwhistle, Keith Moon), whereas the red tends to focus on mastery of a particular idiom (i.e., blues) and yellow often incorporates disparate influences into a single presentation (i.e., George Harrison melding Carl Perkins and Chuck Berry).

Lyrically, the bands in the blue spectrum tend to be the most advanced; however, this pertains more or less to thematic considerations, rather than song forms. A pop lyric, for example, may be better crafted than a libretto - but the libretto may have touched on deeper considerations.

Most “rock and roll” bands today can be traced through this color chart quite easily. Try it yourself :)

Thoughts, anyone?

What Egyptian Deity are you? go to:the quiz!

Have you ever seen those ridiculous singing fish that hang on the wall and break out in song when you press their stupid buttons?

Well, here is my favorite version: The Singing Fish
(Warning: contains profanity and is rather loud ... beware if opening at work ... LOL)

“As long as mankind shall continue to bestow more liberal applause on their destroyers than on their benefactors, the thirst of military glory will ever be the vice of the most exalted characters.” -- Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Vol. I

To think that it has been two hundred and twenty eight years since that observation was made. So many have been the advances, so far have we traveled, how much cleaner are our streets now ... and how much we have forgotten, forgotten to remember. Santayana said that those who do not learn from the past are fated to repeat it. Lo, how our great and wondrous empire stretches and cracks at the seams, this great and mighty ship, this grand republic, festers and rots from within from its self-inflicted, neglected and overlooked wounds.

What price freedom? Is the individual or the state more important? These are indeed quite rapidly becoming Orwellian times, my friends.

1. your name spelled backwards: nhoj
2. where were your parents born? my mom was born in Hamilton, OH; my dad in Toledo, OH.
3. what is the last thing you downloaded onto your computer? the latest patch for Windows XP.
4. what's your favorite restaurant? China Rose
5. last time you swam in a pool? about six months ago.
6. have you ever been in a school play? yes, both onstage and in the orchestra (Musicals).
7. how many kids do you want? none
8. type of Music you dislike most? 80's keyboard “pop”
9. are you registered to vote? yes.
10. do you have cable? no.
11. have you ever ridden on a moped? yes.
12. ever prank call anybody? no.
13. ever get a parking ticket? yes.
14. would you go bungee jumping or sky diving? no.
15. furthest place you ever traveled: meiringen, switzerland.
16. do you have a garden? yes - well, star and i share it.
17. what's your favorite comic strip? bizarro.
18. do you really know all the words to your national anthem? yes.
19. bath or shower, morning or night? shower, night.
20. best movie you've seen in the past month? no movies this month.
21. favorite pizza topping? pepperoni.
22. chips or popcorn? chips
23. what color lipstick do you usually wear? none.
24. have you ever smoked peanut shells? nope.
25. have you ever been in a beauty pageant? no.
26. orange juice or apple? orange.
27. who was the last person you went out to dinner with and where did you dine? stardances, the troll queen and her boyfriend - China Rose
28. favorite type chocolate bar? snickers.
29. when was the last time you voted at the polls? when was the last election? last election (11/5/2002)
30. last time you ate a homegrown tomato? can't remember.
31. have you ever won a trophy? yes - county and state fair 4H for rabbit raising and entomology, achievement awards in english and Music in HS; best dressed “oscar” with mardi gras krewe.
32. are you a good cook? yes.
33. do you know how to pump your own gas? yes.
34. ever order an article from an infomercial? yes.
35. sprite or 7-up? 7-up.
36. have you ever had to wear a uniform to work? yes.
37. last thing you bought at a pharmacy? razors, coca-cola.
38. ever throw up in public? yes.
39. would you prefer being a millionaire or find true love? true love.
40. do you believe in love at first sight? yes.
41. ever call a 1-900 number? yes.
42. can ex's be friends? unlikely.
43. who was the last person you visited in a hospital? star's dad.
44. did you have a lot of hair when you were a baby? yes.
45. what message is on your answering machine? general family announcement.
46. what's your all time favorite saturday night live character? don't have one.
47. what was the name of your first pet? Frazier (rabbit)
48. what is in your purse? no purse, wallet.
49. favorite thing to do before bedtime? read.
50. what is one thing you are grateful for today? stardances, education, the earth
51. if you were to die tomorrow who would you leave everything you own to? family and friends, body to science/organ donation
52. name one person that you could stand spending a straight 24 hours with and not get the slightest bit annoyed with? stardances
53. what would be the first thing you would do if you woke up one morning and you were the opposite sex? laugh.
54. what is your dream career? professional published philosopher.
55. if you could be in any movie as the lead role what movie would it be? the electric horseman
56. what do you secretly love reading? celebrity biographies
57. what do you secretly love watching? educational TV
58. you're allowed one super power, what would it be? the language of animals/birds.
59. if you could eat only one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? broccoli.
60. what's the cheesiest thing you secretly love? i don't really know, but I'm sure there's several things.

Abbey Roadsigns

or The Inside Scoop on the Breakup of the Greatest Band in the World

For a time, we thought we were the greatest band in the world; and because we did, we were. - Ringo Starr

The Beatles are bigger than Jesus Christ right now. - John Lennon

The following is an interpretation of the songs of the Abbey Road album as a psychological justification for the breakup of the Beatles, or why it had to happen, in their own words:

Here Comes the Sun - Finally, things are looking up for George Harrison. He?s had a creative breakthrough, probably due to the new vegetarianism and positive outlook on life. Plus, he?s hanging out with other Musicians like Eric Clapton and having a bit of fun. He never seemed to have too much, you know, and was always so damned depressing.

Something - But all good things must come to an end. She is the Beatles, and while George loves her, he just doesn't know about the future. He's undecided, as well; does he side with John or Paul? That's always been his question, I think.

Maxwell's Silver Hammer - I think Maxwell is Allen Klein, the doctor they all brought in to fix up the Beatles. Maybe they should have considered Doctor Robert. This one is obviously about litigation and the courts, and Paul's never-ending battle to prove he wasn't the one who broke up the band. Further, I think he's making a comment on his recent drug busts, and John?s forays into obscenity with Yoko Ono (i.e., Two Virgins, etc.).

Oh! Darling - Paul's frantic plea to John: Don't leave me. You seem to have it all together, but I need you as a foil to spur my creativity.

Octopus' Garden - This is Ringo's attempt to reconcile all the involved parties. But he's drowning, and the ship's sinking, and everybody knows it. Meanwhile, he's getting drunk with Keith Moon and playing Frank Zappa in the movies. He's ready to move on, just like the rest, and he's getting tired of being "the funny one."

I Want You (She?s So Heavy) - John wants to move beyond the Beatles. The social and emotional responsibility of fronting the world's most popular band has gotten a bit much. Further, he wants to play styles of Music that the Beatles could never get away with (i.e., biting social Commentary and the blues). Further, he wants to distance himself from the hippie movement and free love; he's more into revolution and visible social change at this point (witness his "Power to the People") demeanor that follows shortly hereafter, etc. Witness John's disillusionment with the flower power movement (i.e., Strawberry Fields Forever). He doesn't want to be anybody's guru...his whole "bag" has been for people to think for themselves. It's easy to see misunderstanding with your eyes closed, he says. Let me drag you down with me. If I say jump, does that mean you do it?

Come Together - The visible exponent of the sentiment expressed in I Want You (She's So Heavy). John is not only writing a campaign slogan for Timothy Leary and San Francisco, showing his affinity for the intellectual revolution over the non-violent peacenik thing, but he's saying, "Look, people, if you let me do this, the Beatles might still work."

Because - Why do shitty things happen? Why do bands like the Beatles break up? It's nobody's fault, regardless of what they say in Melody Maker. Just because, baby, just because.

You Never Give Me Your Money - Paul's most direct statement to date on the fact that the other Beatles sued him. Paul obviously wants to keep the band together, but they keep serving him summons ("funny paper") and breaking off the negotiations. He doesn't want it to be about money, but he's trying to keep his shirt and forget the Apple fiasco. In the beginning, he says, we were unemployed, undereducated. If not for this band, we'd be driving trucks. This was our dream, guys, he's saying. Now, with the dream come true, I think Paul realizes that the dream has got to die. It's just not working anymore. Like Albert King said, "Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die." And that hurts Paul like nothing else could.

Sun King - What's all the nonsense, says John. Why should anybody care but us, says Paul. It?s our business. Lead your own lives - we can't protect you forever. Further, the whole thing has gotten a bit ridiculous. No matter what we say, it is interpreted as something "deep" and "cryptic." Check out Charlie Manson's take on what we did in 1968, for example. John says, "All I want to do is play the blues." Paul says, "I want to write Musical theater." George says, "Hare Krishna." Ringo says, "Where is Buck Owens playing tonight?" The press says, "Paul is dead." Go figure.

Mean Mr. Mustard - Another interpretation of Allen Klein, I think.

Polythene Pam - Look, everyone, it's the incredible marketable Beatles, shrink-wrapped in plastic and ready for distribution! Where's Colonel Tom Parker when you need him?

She Came In Through the Bathroom Window - "She" is the Beatles. She's come up on the Fab Four by surprise, with her silver lining exposed, and now they all just sit around and wonder what the Hell they're going to do about it. Further, I think Paul is tired of being the "policeman" and trying to get everybody together and play. Another interpretation might be that "she" is Apple Records. After all, she could "steal, but she could not rob." They were all losing a lot of money in that little venture, you know. Interpretation #3: "She" is Phil Spector, and she couldn?t really do much to save the sinking ship. Plus, Paul didn't really appreciate the external input and loss of creative control.

Golden Slumbers - Finally, I think Paul just comes out and says it. This used to be a great band, we used to have a lot of fun, and each of us achieved somewhat of our own Nirvana when it worked. However, the real good thing is about to come to an end. This is also could be seen as a farewell to Brian Epstein, who'd been with them since they were "home" at the Cavern, and always seemed to be a link with their roots.

Carry That Weight - And of course, it's easy for the rest of the boys (and the media, and the fans) to blame Paul. He seemed to be the most realistic (therefore, the most calculating, cold and cynical) about the Beatles' situation. And he got most of the heat in the press. Nobody took him seriously as a solo artist until "Band On the Run" took off so splendidly. Plus, he lost his best friend in the bargain. In another view, he's also the one who had to perform most of the Beatles' repertoire throughout the following decades. This, of course, has its benefits.

The End - And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make. And they weren't making love anymore; so it was only fair that they stopped taking it. They weren't even sleeping in the same room at that point. Witness the angry solos from George, Paul and John.

Her Majesty - Paul, of course, was desperate to have the last word. He was going to get the brunt of the blame, after all. Once he made the decision to quit, there was nothing else to do but crawl away and get drunk. She (the Beatles) was a pretty nice girl, but there was no way she was going to put out again. Someday, however, Paul was hoping, it might all work out again.

Ah, the Sunday evening movie hour approaches, and for probably the 57th time in my life, I will sit down and watch the Wizard of Oz. This time, however, I will not be tripping my ass off, nor will I be desparately sync'ing the soundtrack with Dark Side of the Moon. And this time, it will be the third time after reading Gregory MacGuire's wonderful book, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West. If you are not familiar with this work, I highly recommend picking it up - particularly if the anti-witch propaganda presented in the L. Frank Baum version seemed a bit one-sided. Hear of the dear one, Elphaba, unfortunately born at birth with a VERY olive complexion, fighting for the rights of Talking Animals, trying to return power to Queen Ozma after it had been usurped by the dictator Wizard, and wonder over her interactions with a very insipid, vapid and over-the-top nincompoop roommate at college, Glinda. Mourn as she accepts the death of her sister thanks to a know-it-all meddler from Kansas.

Ah, the humanity ...

This is a piece of “found” Poetry. That is to say, I found this to be TOO much, and so over-the-top that it is almost histrionically funny. That of course was not it's intent - I'm sure they were going for the Gurdijieff approach to structured language that discourages pattern thinking. Someone, anyone, help me to understand exactly what it is this band does, sounds like, or wants to be when it grows up ... Help me, I'd like to count it off, is it alright ... is it alright if I scream?

As a result of its perceived Gurdijieff connection, I like to call this piece “Meetings with Remarkable Idiots” ...
From an on-line entry at New Orleans Musician:

DRUMMER CRUCIAL! 18-26 need genius, talented, layered, complex, immense, versatile drums 4 sharp, tragic, ravaged, rasberry, sexy, urgent, shrill, contrast, young new rock we are so damn good and so damn anxious and ready, but we cant find a damn good enough drummer! would love huge sounding drums with large kit. none of that less is more little setup shit. MORE IS MORE!

we are 22. this is all we want to do. we bought a house for it, we are
quitting our jobs for it. we breathe and sleep it. and 100% know we are
the greatest. 100% worth it. no limits. no bullshit.

new, amazing, dedicated, over the top, into the clouds.

we're not indie, not emo, not hardcore, not postpunk, not garage, not retro,
not nu-metal, not postrock, not jaded. we are vast, shattering, delicate,
young, aware, asway, cutting, changing, pretty, and fierce. we need an
incredible drummer to pull this off with; to work with closely and
intensely.

i dont care where you live, if you know and love what im saying, do NOT
hesitate to write us! i could not be more serious, we WILL work something
out. there is absolutely no time to delay.

Oh PUL LEASE ...

What Was Your PastLife?

Earlier this year, someone approached with the notion that being a bard was a relatively simple undertaking; of course, I took a small bit of umbrage to that idea, and responded with the following poem:
The Bard Blues (Summer 2002)
Who is a bard, who asks, who claims
Such title, such a sorrowed fame?
There are poets, minstrels, clowns
And more that covet bardic crowns,
They'll study years and not begin
To grasp that song that cries within.
A Bard, why who would want the right
To spend too few a restful night
When chronicle the times he must,
And trace mankind from dust to dust?
The glory, what is that to thee,
When one imprisoned means none free?
The secret language of the bard,
Oft covers pain and life lived hard,
For royal poets all are gone -
We've lost the schools, the tools, the songs;
As minstrel singers take the stage,
And style, not substance, is the rage.
Who is a bard, who wants to be?
'Tis not a role filled easily,
For few can stand to see in mirrors
Their faults beside their wasted years,
While wielding still the two-edged sword
Of pleasing crowd, and self, and lord.
A bard am I, are any here?
'Tis not a calling, or career,
But endless years of toil and sweat
To write in words, lest all forget;
And still they do, for words will fail,
When there's a life, who needs a tale?
A bard is more than line and verse,
More than a song for coin in purse -
But more a sacred touching stone,
And oft, for this, he dreams alone,
For passing between death and life
May lose him friend, or work, or wife
Who is a bard? A slave to those
That seek to know why words be chose,
And those who want a glimpse of light,
While they themselves are still in night;
For these, the bard must ply his wares
And speak the truth, tho' no one cares.
The sacred silence we all find
In doubtful moments, kills the mind
And makes us wonder of the use
For shaping language into noose;
But still we write, because we must
Until we, like our words, are dust.

I've started putting together a number of lists at Amazon related to reading.

Here's the first one: Recommended Reading List I

Comments are welcome :)

According to the Department of Defense, and its newly formed arm the Information Awareness Office:

The most serious asymmetric threat facing the United States is terrorism, a threat characterized by collections of people loosely organized in shadowy networks that are difficult to identify and define. IAO plans to develop technology that will allow understanding of the intent of these networks, their plans, and potentially define opportunities for disrupting or eliminating the threats. To effectively and efficiently carry this out, we must promote sharing, collaborating and reasoning to convert nebulous data to knowledge and actionable options.

However, whatever exactly an “asymmetric threat” is, I am relatively sure that it is NOT terrorism. The number one threat to capitalism may be terrorism; the number one threat to democracy is ignorance.

That ignorance is what keeps us from attacking the real terrorists - those that use the constitution as toilet paper to cover their asses, those that use the threat of an “unseen” enemy to trivialize the right to privacy; that leverage their jingoistic propaganda machine against free-thinking, indepedent peoples to force them into supporting right-wing, totalitarian legislation; that insist that information is power while steadily depriving our educational system of any element of teaching that asks students to do their own research, find their own answers, seek their own truth, follow their own bliss.

The worst of it is that based on the voting patterns in this country, we do NOT give a damn. That only proves even more clearly that the enemy is ignorance, not terrorism.

George Bernard Shaw once quipped that “democracy is the only form of government under which revolution is against the law.” Why? Because, theoretically, in a true democracy, where each person has a voice AND EXERCISES IT, you are ultimately revolting against yourself. The power structure that you put in place, that is you. Obviously, if in a democracy no more than 50% of the people who have the right to vote do so, then ultimately only those people who are concerned enough about their agenda will get out and vote. In America right now, it appears that those people are the Right Wing, Conservative Class. The left, the Democratic party, the concerned liberal front -- they don't need a qualified candidate or candidates in order to staunch the tide of Fascism. What they need is voters. Fuck the platform, whatever it may be. With the weak support shown the Democrats in this last election (in New Orleans, because it was RAINING, the voter turn-out was low ...), it doesn't matter WHAT their platform is, it will not succeed.

My personal belief is this:

Until the recent increase in home-schooling (and that is another whole topic altogether), we as a nation make an exception for mandatory public education only in cases of religious objection. I think we should make participation in the government mandatory on that same basis. If you don't vote, you don't get public assistance. You don't get social security. You don't get free legal defense. You don't get road repair. And so on. It is, after all, a democracy. It is a government OF the people, BY the people, FOR the people. If you're not interested in being part of the OF and BY, then you don't get the FOR. So it's a lot of hassle. So it takes up some time. So your vote doesn't count. Well, MAKE IT COUNT. Use it. Or lose it. The bottom line is that you're going to lose it one way or another at this rate. The suede-denim secret police are just around the corner. The conveniences you demand are about to become mandatory.

One more thing. People want better schools. Better roads. More cops. More whatever. And at the same time, they're always complaining about higher taxes. The Republicans want to create a huge Homeland Security Department, increase defense spending, improve our intelligence infrastructure. Well, those things cost money. And that money comes from ONE place - TAXES. You can't have it both ways. I can't believe that there is NO politician that is honest enough to flat out admit it. NO TAXES = NO SERVICES.

And another thing. You know what REALLY pisses me off? So-called “Christian” “family-value” candidates who run mud-slinging campaigns. THEY ARE TOTAL HYPOCRITES. Because their ads don't tell you the truth. They violate a serious commandment - thou shalt not bear false witness. So they are NOT Christians. Period. They are liars, and their campaigns prove that they HATE the American people. Hate them? Yes, because they are flat-out telling you, the voters, that they think you are STUPID enough to buy this crap. And you know what? For the most part, they are right.

Which again, proves my point. Terrorism is not the enemy. Ignorance is the enemy.

One last item. This description from the IAO blurb above “...collections of people loosely organized in shadowy networks that are difficult to identify and define...” sounds familiar. Who does it sound like? The American people. Particularly those that don't stand for something, and as a result, fall for anything.