Monday, January 31, 2011

Things Libraries Throw Away



Several years ago, while at Washington University in St Louis, I headed to the Biology department library to return some books. As many libraries are wont to do, they were chucking out old copies of books, and looking through the pile I managed to score a few classic texts, including Lynn Margulis' "Early Life". Astoundingly, tucked inside, was a photocopy of a letter sent to Lynn on 2 June 1982 (the letter is typewritten, and the photocopy seems to have been made not long after and has a handwritten note by Lynn in the top corner). ...

Treasures In Old Books
Stages Of Succession




She later formulated a theory to explain how symbiotic relationships between organisms of often different phyla or kingdoms are the driving force of evolution. Genetic variation is proposed to occur mainly as a result of transfer of nuclear information between bacterial cells or viruses and eukaryotic cells. While her organelle genesis ideas are widely accepted, symbiotic relationships as a current method of introducing genetic variation is something of a fringe idea. ...

from Lynn Margulis at Wikipedia






It must be exciting to be a published writer,
to sit with other writers in a sidewalk cafe,
drinking, talking, watching the world go about its day,
sighing, shrugging, saying, “Yes, you must be a fighter”

when yet another library makes its shelves lighter
by checking a print-out and throwing your books away.
Rubbing scalp that used to be gray hair, someone will say,
“That pretty Vanity Fair ass ed—”     “Juli?”     “Right, her—

has a best-seller now, published by Vanity Fair,
about working at Vanity Fair, how the wacky,
smart, pretty, fun people there make life never a bore.”

It must be exciting to nod and be part and share.
“I read it on Kindle,” you say, matter-of-factly,
“Juli’s best-seller, On Being A (OMG!) Whore.”




















Friday, January 28, 2011

Moonlight Becomes You



If I say I love you
I want you to know
It’s not just because there’s moonlight although
Moonlight becomes you so




“Moonlight Becomes You”

Moonlight Becomes You is a popular song,
composed by Jimmy Van Heusen with lyrics
by Johnny Burke. The song was written for
the Paramount Pictures release Road to Morocco (1942)
and published in 1942 in connection with the film.
Vic Schoen (staff arranger for Paramount)
wrote the arrangement.







There was moonlight. And then Hollywood light.
And I guess there was Hollywood moonlight,
which was electric and didn’t look much
like real moonlight but everybody knew
it was pretend and pretending was fun.

I’ve studied the Moon through a telescope
and I’ve seen my share of Hollywood light.
I think real moonlight can become someone.
And I think Hollywood light can be fun,
although Hollywood moonlight is pretend.

I think almost everybody today
is television light. It’s not moonlight.
It’s not pretend. And in it there’s no fun.
If I say “I love you” you might glow but
television moonlight is just a show.






























Thursday, January 27, 2011

Quasi Una Flying Car Fantasia



Moonlight and love songs
Are never out of date









When birds are gone and cars are flocking overhead
I’m sure fancy software will keep everybody
on course, safe and no one will hit anybody.
Will flying cars have horns for when we’re seeing red,

when we’ve gotten up on the wrong side of the bed
and we’re flocking along right next to somebody
too close in a junker with a dented body
and their suburban flying messes with our head?

When cars are the new birds and cars need to make noise
it would be a nice tribute to our feathered friends
if cars had little keyboards or high-tech guitars

and we had to make music and sing with our toys
to warn off bad flyers and avoid bumping ends.
Songs should be the price we pay for our flying cars.












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Hot Red Earth, Cold Blue Jazz


Cars Are The New Birds


No Bird Shadows On The Analemma




Romance, Cinema And Science Fiction Dreams





















Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Like Before The Internet Went Psycho


It’s easy for old people like me to talk about how Twitter and Facebook have turned the internet into the cyber equivalent of Wal-Mart—an ugly, over-crowded mess full of hapless, hopeless shoppers who have nothing to say yet still talk too much.

(Some of us who lived through the CIS/AOL wars have never gotten over the AOL victory.)

So now what used to be an interesting community of smart, fun people to talk to is just wall-to-wall scoundrels calling people names and saying, endlessly, “I liked that!” or “I didn’t like that!”


But a few days ago I saw the internet working like it used to work, a cool place, smart and fun and interesting.


It started here, in a little town in Greenland named “Ilulissat” where people have lived for something like 4,000 years. That’s even longer than the internet has been around, for you AOL readers. (Sorry. I’ll stop.)



Every year on January 13th, people from all over Greenland trek to Ilulissat because the Arctic night ends and the Sun rises for the first time, ending their long winter darkness.

It normally looks something like this:



But the people of Ilulissat were shocked this year when the Sun appeared something like two days early.

And thanks to things like Twitter and the rest, a lot of people freaked out about it.

In Britain, the Daily Mail did an article about it, speculating that maybe global warming was causing glaciers to melt:

The sun rises two days early in Greenland, sparking fears that climate change is accelerating


And AccuWeather wondered if extreme methane buildup might be changing atmospheric refraction (this was at least a reasonable kind of wild theory which, in fact, might still be true):

"Sunrise" Two Days Early in Greenland


Other internet sites were less reasonable. Much less.

At ZetaTalk they blamed the impending crustal shift and end of the world, and at Sorcha Faal they also were talking about the end of the world:

Of course this is from the Earth wobble, which has gotten increasingly violent and extreme

Greenland Sunrise Shocks World As Superstorms Pound Planet


Gads.

There are a lot of astronomers and astrophysicists in the world and many of them have websites. Astronomers, in particular, are some of the friendliest people in the world. If someone thinks the world’s ending, they should—excuse me—fucking look around for an astronomer’s website and ask him or her if, in fact, the world is really ending. They’ll give a good answer!

I stopped in at an astronomer’s site called, The Half-Astrophysicist Blog, by Rob Sparks. Not only was he looking carefully at the phenomenon without going crazy, but—just like the good old days before AOL!—smart and interesting people were dropping in to chat and share some cool facts.

In fact, a high school physics teacher who lives in Greenland [!] stopped by and gave some local background and then contacted the Niels Bohr Institute at the Copenhagen University and got the real expert opinion of what had happened. As most reasonable people had kind of figured out, the “early sunrise” almost certainly was an atmospheric effect similar to a common mirage. And as more reports filtered out, it wasn’t really too unusual of an occurrence after all.


People who looked around for an astronomer got the facts and got help cutting through the crazy and got some fun, interesting background info just for hanging around. That’s what the internet can do when the Facebook and Twitter nuts and scum are ignored.


If only it could always be that way.





(And yes I realize that by calling the Facebook/Twitter people names I’m just being a contemporary scoundrel, but I don’t do it often and it really is awful what they’ve done to the online world. I don’t like that! )

















Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The Sound Of One Hand Chording



Why should I care
If I have to cut my hair
I’ve got to move with the fashions
Or be outcast








Today’s post is kind of trivial, but it’s interesting to me. And I’m going to be talking about this more in the future so I wanted to get this topic started.


I’ve always been interested in similarities and differences between music produced by guitars and keyboards. Now that everything can be synthesized there are still differences. I suspect the differences in part grow out of the way keyboards and fretboards each favor different kinds of chord voicings.


These are four voicings of a G Major 7th chord.

The two GM7 chords on the left are typical one-hand voicings for keyboard. The two GM7 chords on the right are typical four-string voicings for guitar. These have the root in the bass, then in the treble.

The keyboard voicings are closed, with all the notes being drawn from within an octave. The guitar voicings are a little more open with one note outside the octave of the root and that’s just because of the way guitar strings are arranged.


I suspect the typically slightly more open voicings of a guitar are why folk singers—to many listeners—sound better plucking away at simple progressions on guitars than they sound plunking away at simple progressions on a keyboard.


When I watch jazz keyboard players perform, they usually look very relaxed, with their left hand chording low bass voicings and their right hand playing a couple of octaves up for melody lines or comping chords.

And this sounds wonderful. I’m thinking of music like Vince Guaraldi’s.


But I’ve heard and seen guitar players—folk musicians and rock musicians—perform on keyboards and, often, they seem to play all cramped up with their hands close together and they sound as bad as they look.

I believe—I might be wrong, I don’t have a lot of keyboard experience—I believe these guitarists are sitting at the keyboard and kind of locking their hands together and using two or three fingers of each hand, together, to mimic familiar guitar voicings on the keyboard.


This does not seem to be a good idea.


It doesn’t look good. It doesn’t sound good.


I mean, what the hell, if you’re going to be using both hands at once, why not move them apart and play the keyboard properly?


(I know that I am also raising another issue here—why should the exact same chord voicings played with two hands on a keyboard sound or be experienced differently than when they are performed with one hand on a guitar? I’m ignoring this issue today because I think it needs a post of its own and I’ll do this some other time. It’s also, I strongly suspect, much harder to answer.)


I’ve already put up Pete Townshend’s incredible guitar performance of “Pinball Wizard”—on acoustic guitar!—and said it is my favorite guitar performance of all time. It is.

I like Pete Townshend a lot. (And I haven’t even begun to talk about his song “Rough Boys.” That's a whole other topic for another day.)

But here is Pete playing “Cut My Hair” on piano.

I don’t think this is good. I don’t want to be a h8er [laughs] but he should not do this. Nobody should do this. (And at this show, which looks like kind of a solo show, he has a helper keyboard player way off to the side. Harumph.)

I’ll be posting more about guitars and keyboards, but I wanted to get the topic started and I wanted to have these two Pete Townshend performances up as points of comparison. (Soon I hope to have examples of my own, but, you know, on keyboard I don’t want to look or sound like Pete so I still need a little work.)












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Affektenlehre














Monday, January 24, 2011

Feral Kangaroos And Women




“Caroline Wozniacki's desperate attempt to reinvent herself took a bizarre twist yesterday with the world No. 1 being forced to recall the media to a second press conference to declare that she had not been mauled by a feral kangaroo. ...”

Open slather: Kangaroo cleared of wrong-doing
The Sidney Morning Herald, January 24, 2011




At U.S. Submarines we have developed the world's first personal luxury submarines, capable of taking you and your guests to unseen regions of the deep ocean in perfect comfort and absolute safety. And once there, you are able to view the fascinating denizens of the deep through large, panoramic viewports, while relaxing in an interior replete with luxury and warmth.

Powered on the surface by twin turbocharged marine diesels, all of our luxury submarine models, with the exception of the small Triton 650, have extended surface range and are capable of diving to 305 meters (1000'). Bad weather? Simply close the hatch and dive, cruising effortlessly far below the waves in air conditioned comfort. The submarines' battery capacity and life support systems allow you to stay submerged for days at a time.






I used to think it would be a romantic trip
to fall in love, buy a small boat, sail off to sea—
blue water, blue sky and a woman holding me.
I’d pour German wine in paper cups and we’d sip.

Then the odd color oil bubbled out of the rip
in the Gulf of Mexico and my fantasy
woman, too, became odd fiction like a crazy
woman tennis player and her kangaroo quip.

Now that women are as wrecked as ocean water
I’m thinking a boat, even a big boat, won’t do.
I’m thinking a submarine can sink through the gunk—

a craft that can falter as my spirits falter.
As feral women explain to the press what’s true,
I want to sink. Just like they say Atlantis sunk.














Friday, January 21, 2011

Something Heroic And Remote



“I’ve always wished I was a professional dancer,” Linda said.

I said, “Don’t dancers have to be really skinny?”

Linda made a face—women who know me have to be able to make lots of faces—and said, “Shut up, you asshole.”


I hadn’t thought about Kate and Anna McGarrigle for a long time. But I saw today that Kate McGarrigle passed away last year.


One time Linda and I had a big fight and I took back a lot of my stuff from her apartment. As I was getting ready to leave, Linda picked up my copy of Kate and Anna McGarrigles’s album, “Dancer With Bruised Knees.”

Linda kind of embraced the album and made a face at me that I hadn’t seen before. I thought of that observation from Degas, “The dance instills in you something that sets you apart, something heroic and remote.” Linda said, “I’m keeping this album. I love this album. You can take the rest of your stuff. It’s your stuff. But I’m keeping this album even though it’s yours. I’m keeping this album.”

I loved dancing with Linda. She used to hold me just like she held that album.


I’m sad, learning that Kate McGarrigle passed away. She was great. I hold my memories of hearing her and her sister sing as closely as Linda held her album.










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Kate and Anna McGarrigle at Wikipedia




Something That Sets You Apart


Christmas Witches: Ogres And Showgirls












Thursday, January 20, 2011

The End Of The World Shaken Not Stirred





A pilothouse sailboat, a midsize boat,
is large enough for its own laundry room.

Companies make washer-dryer units
that fit inside a little cabinet.

This has become a goal I’m working toward.
When the continents sink under the waves—

the black, oil-stained waves hot from lava flows—
I want to be sailing into the gloom

reading peacefully by electric light
and I want to wear a clean, dry tee shirt

that smells like Gain Joyful Expressions soap.
I know we can’t fight the Apocalypse

but with careful financial management
and high technology we can fight dirt.























Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Pretty Flowers, Taylor Swift, Killer Whales



Some of the stores around here have started selling flower seeds.

It’s kind of early, but I may pick up some zinnia seeds. I don’t have a garden area right now so even if Spring arrived early—I mean, really early—I wouldn’t have a place to plant the seeds. But Spring is a while away and I’m hoping that by the time the warm weather comes I will have a place to plant some flowers.

Zinnias are my favorite colorful flower. Marigolds bloom longer, but zinnias have beautiful colors.

Today’s post is kind of convoluted in a pointless way, but I’m going to put it up anyway just because it makes me smile.

It goes like this:

I was walking through a nearby store and saw them selling flower seeds. That made me think of the little garden space I used to have. That made me think of the posts I’ve done about gardening and—for some reason—I’ve come to associate Taylor Swift with my old garden just because, I think, I randomly juxtaposed Taylor Swift and gardening once.

Doesn’t she look happy about it.

Now I’m stuck thinking about her when I think about gardening.

Even though I’ve never actually heard a Taylor Swift song. I kind of hate fake country music to begin with so I was not inclined to listen to her. And one time I did try to listen to her sing—when she did a duet with Stevie Nicks—but Taylor Swift’s voice sounded so, ummm, odd that I couldn’t listen.

But I got to thinking about her because of the flower seeds on sale at the store.

Then, this afternoon when I was looking around the net I stopped in at a scuba diving and shark diving website I look in on now and then and they had a link to a video that was a parody of some Taylor Swift song.

Taylor Swift synchronicity.

Now, I’ve never heard the Swifty song the parody is based on, but the parody is pretty funny. So even though I think I’ve been linking too often to videos, I’m going to link to this one because it’s part of this Taylor Swift diptych.

Diptych used like that sounds like a bad word. Sounds like a Russian curse word. But it’s not.

So, here’s the Taylor Swift parody and I’ll try to have something more substantial for tomorrow. And I’m going to try to stay away from video links for a while, too.











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I’m Picturing Taylor Swift Naked


Atlas Shrugged, Taylor Swift, Shangri-La


Taylor Swift With No Makeup





















Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Romance, Cinema And Science Fiction Dreams



“If such things exist,
if they are possible,
then everything is.
Magic. And God.”







What can it be?
What is the reason?
Is this the end
To all that breathes, and
Is it just something in your head?
Will you believe it when you’re dead?
Green slime!
Green slime!
Green slime!








Watching “A Clockwork Orange” at a midnight show
at Northwestern University, surrounded
by smart young men and young women, many dressed up
as ‘Alex,’ most of us speaking his lines with him.

Watching “The Green Slime” in a packed hotel ballroom
at two-thirty in the morning, with everyone
in the science fiction convention’s movie room
singing along to the lyrics in the theme song.

Of course I know I can’t ever meet ‘Gwen Conliffe.’
And I know I don’t want to meet Emily Blunt.
Is it a science fiction dream to hope to meet
a woman more Emily’s ‘Gwen’ than Emily?


















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The Pressures Of Being A Real Life Princess


















Monday, January 17, 2011

Thinking About Perspective


Okay, first of all, the 2011 tennis season has started in Australia.

There’s so much weird stuff going on in the world now—Goblin Universe type stuff—that it’s hard to think about tennis. But it’s important to maintain perspective. Or at least try to maintain perspective.

Australian Open 2011 Home



Also, right as I’ve posted some other things about plasma dynamics possibly playing a more central role to astrophysics than is commonly thought a story breaks about thunderstorms riding along magnetic lines of force and generating positrons and gamma ray bursts. Pretty cool stuff.

Thunderstorms That Shoot Antimatter




There was also another story about storms and electricity coming out of the Middle East that was summarized at an electric universe site:

Rainmaker: Arid regions are influencing their weather using electrical technology



And I’m not going to go off about dying animals again this week, but now cows have died in Wisconsin:

Wisconsin farmer shocked to discover 200 dead cows; officials think cattle had deadly virus


I’m guessing everybody has noticed at least some of the odd points about this story: 200 dead cows in Wisconsin: odd conflicting information given about dead cows?



This week I kind of wanted to talk about crayons and pencil drawings and maybe a little about guitars and keyboards. (The January issue of Keyboard magazine has an ad for the new Roland Juno Gi keyboard featuring a guitar player using the device as an amp. And the same keyboard magazine has a piece on Melody Gardot with a photo of her sitting next to her guitar. wtf?)




So I kind of wanted to talk about some trivial stuff this week. But with so much interesting and seemingly serious stuff going on, I’m not sure I want to talk about crayons. I’m going to think about this some more.


I’m not sure what I’m going to do this week. So I’m starting just by tossing all this stuff out here.
















Friday, January 14, 2011

Basically Just The Lovemongers Doing Zeppelin


On Fridays I like to have something special, but today I’ve got nothing.

Yesterday I sort of summed up the bird and car stuff I’ve been talking about. I’ve got one more post about birds and cars, but I want to include a song and I want to play it on keyboard, but I’ve got a little work left to do before I can actually do that. Well, I can do it now, but not so that I’d want anybody to see and hear me. Soon. I’m getting better.

I really am kind of worried about the birds around here. They haven’t completely disappeared, but except for one set of bushes, the plants are empty. And the largest “bird bush” around here—which is usually so full of birds you can hear them chirping half a block away—only had three birds in it today. I know because I stopped by and tugged at a branch and the sparrows popped out at the top to see what was going on. Three birds.


Then I was going to do a post about fluid turbulence. I know it sounds obscure, but there are many interesting and odd things going on with the clouds of Jupiter and Saturn and there is a particular kind of turbulence—called “Kelvin–Helmholtz instability”—that is worth knowing about. And it is an issue in the electric universe world of plasma, too. But I never actually got around to writing anything. Oops. I’ll get back to that. But here’s a cool graphic I was going to use. And here’s a link to a cool site all about fluid turbulence.





So that’s about all I’ve got even though it’s a Friday. I should have planned better and worked harder. Sorry. I’m ashamed.

Anyway, here’s a weekend video. It’s the Lovemongers [!] playing an old Zeppelin [!] song:


















Thursday, January 13, 2011

No Bird Shadows On The Analemma



A Massachusetts company hopes to start delivering its flying car to customers by late 2011. Terrafugia Inc., founded about five years ago by MIT graduates, got a key go-ahead last month when the Federal Aviation Administration granted a special weight limit exemption to the company for its flying car -- or "roadable aircraft" -- which is called the Transition. With that FAA clearance under the its belt, the company said it is on track to deliver the first Transitions to customers late next year. The Transition, which is designed with foldable wings, successfully completed its first flight on March 5, 2009, after six months of road testing. "To actually have it fly is a dream come true," said Richard Gersh, a vice president at Terrafugia.







Sometimes the records sell the movie. There’s less room for score when there are songs so certainly there’s an impact there on me as a background film composer. I just think it’s hard for filmmakers to stand up to an industry that has a sales dynamic so prevalent in the decision making about product right now. It’s as if in the car industry people who sold the cars were telling the engineers how to make a car. Like, that engine should have twenty cylinders because people like cylinders. You know, it kind of doesn’t make sense to me but I think it’s the reality of how business is done now in the industry.



Composer Shirley Walker
(on her commentary track)









Normally in cold weather around here
sparrows hang out in bushes, packed so thick,
their chirps so loud, their jumps and shoves so quick,
bushes seem to shiver but sing with cheer.

The weather this week has been cold and clear
but it’s as if the cold bushes are sick—
without a bird a branch is just a stick.
Wind whistles. Sticks shiver as if in fear.

I saw six or seven birds a week back
and took a picture. Now the birds are gone.
Businessmen will sell a flying car soon.

I imagine some advertising hack
will declare the science fiction dream won.
We’re George Jetson! The Earth becomes the Moon.



       







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Cars Are The New Birds


“Pretty Horrifying But Actually Very Real”


Hot Red Earth, Cold Blue Jazz







       

        “Help! Jane! Stop this crazy thing!”














Wednesday, January 12, 2011

“The Honeymoon Machine”


Today’s post is just a personal note. I’ve made a change to my profile page, adding a movie to my favorite movie list. I’m not sure how I left off this movie years ago when I made that list. And I did an earlier post about this movie and still didn't add it to my favorite movie list.

Roulette And The Magic Of Math


“The Honeymoon Machine” was released in 1961, the year after I was born. But it used to be on television a lot. As a very young kid I saw this movie on TV and it was the first movie that I ever made a mental note to remember, to check the TV guide and keep a look out for. I think I’ve seen this movie more times than any other film.


Jim Hutton plays a brilliant computer scientist and Steve McQueen is an audacious young naval officer. Hutton is on McQueen’s boat to test his new computer that can track missiles and predict their reentry trajectory. McQueen realizes that, in theory, that process is very similar to predicting a roulette ball falling onto a roulette wheel. Hutton says predicting roulette is impossible. But he’s a brilliant computer scientist and his computer is the fastest computer ever built and McQueen talks him into attempting the impossible: using the computer to beat the odds at roulette in a casino.


So there are a lot of really funny misadventures along the way and they both meet interesting women and get involved with romance along the way. And they kind of succeed, after a fashion, although, of course, nothing works out the way a person plans.


This is a wonderful Hollywood screwball comedy, but the remarkable thing about the film is that right about the time the movie came out, some very famous people were actually trying to do almost exactly what the film narrates.

Edward Thorp and Claude Shannon—Claude Shannon for heaven’s sake!—created a special purpose little computer, the first known such device in history—and attempted to use the computer and some fancy physics and math to beat a casino’s roulette odds.

“The Invention of the First Wearable Computer”


And, as if that wasn’t bizarre enough, a few years later a wild group of young physicists attempted to do it again, with better technology. And they did it!

“The Eudaemonic Pie”


This kind of thing is still going on today. It’s not talked about openly, even on the internet. (Yeah, there are some topics that aren’t talked about on the internet!) But using high tech resources to try to scam casinos is a bizarre and thriving kind of subculture.

“The Honeymoon Machine” was a screwball comedy but in real life trying to scam casinos doesn’t generate a lot of laughs. From what I’ve heard, and I may be wrong, but from what I’ve heard when people try to do stuff like this and get caught they get locked up, or decide to leave the country or just kind of disappear.


But it’s a great movie. And it would be cool to do it for real. Or something like it.





















Tuesday, January 11, 2011

An American Tune In Oostburg



We come on a ship they call the Mayflower
We come on a ship that sailed the Moon
We come in the age’s most uncertain hour
And we sing an American tune






I don’t like to talk about politics on this blog, not directly at least. I’ve talked about conspiracies once or twice and that seems fair. But I’m not going to talk directly about politics.

But there is something operatic about the conception of America and I’m just going to touch on that today.

Regardless of what happens here, in North America, over the next few years, I think “America” as something of a global concept has been planted and taken root on a global scale and, for better and for worse, that Novus ordo seclorum is here to stay and even to flower.

Even if we, here, drop the ball—or have it knocked out of our hands—we’re not playing this game alone.


Today’s post is about a music teacher and his student in Oostburg—that’s over in Europe, in the Netherlands—performing a song called, “An American Tune,” by Paul Simon.


I’ve never been to New York. I’ve never seen the Statue of Liberty in real life. When I think of the Statue of Liberty, I think of three things.

The famous scene from “The Planet of the Apes” when the astronaut learns the truth:



And I think of the painting by Peter Max:




And I think of the song “An American Tune,” by Paul Simon. Here is a performance of that song by a music teacher on an upright piano and his student playing a cello:













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This Scary, Pumpkin Time Of Year, Part Two



“Yet Baghdad Is”



The Harajuku Station Forever



















Monday, January 10, 2011

Cars Are The New Birds





A telephoto lens and excessive cropping
can make small things far away appear to be near
and the flat space makes gaps between things disappear.
Cars parked in a lot are far from sparrows hopping

on bushes in the sun, farther from me stopping
to photograph reality that looks so clear,
that doesn’t look like a metaphor space to fear.
But when gaps disappear and space flattens, chopping

reality into planes where nothing is plain,
the sunlight is still light and shadows are still dark.
If all the birds vanished, parking lots would remain.

Things happen far away then again in our brain.
Are birds singing, or did a car pull up and park?
Photographers, lost between things, try to explain.

















Friday, January 07, 2011

Famishius Vulgaris Ingeniusi


A few days ago I talked about supervillains and I mentioned that my two favorite supervillains were from Smallville, Lex Luthor and Lana Lang-as-the-witch.

Somehow I forgot this guy, my all-time favorite supervillain:






I am not a billionaire or a witch
and I am not a postmodern ogre
out of European antiquity.

I am a hungry coyote alone
in a desert where the colors are bright.
I’m wily and I’m a super genius
and I’m chasing a bird that’s only fast.

I’m hairy but I can walk like a man
and I’m going to catch that bird. I am.
I’ve thought out everything. I have a plan!













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Love Sonnet With Piano Wreckage And Worms


Christmas Witches: Ogres And Showgirls























Thursday, January 06, 2011

Hot Red Earth, Cold Blue Jazz



What do you think about a possible link between all the bird deaths in Beebe and the drum die-off in Oxford?


My perspective is that I personally cannot imagine how there is a connection between these two events. With the drum feeding primarily on mollusks in the bottom of the river, if there was something that was affecting them – and this is a pretty deep river – maybe 30 feet deep. So, we don’t know diseases that go from fish to birds or the other way or environmental circumstances that would affect a bird and a fish 120 miles apart. So, it’s just not likely that they are connected. We’re hoping to get results fairly soon on the bacteria and virus cultures and that’s going to be very telling.




Mark Oliver
Chief of Fisheries,
Arkansas Game and Fish Commission


Interviewed by Linda Moulton Howe






Messages of love from the deep, hot biosphere,
up-welling valentines of hydrogen sulfide
and methane and others, disperse, collect, confide
their affection to our fish, birds, smother their fear,

wrench their diffuse part from their mechanical gear,
bones, eyes, hearts, the dense stuff from around the outside,
and take the thinnest part, the real part from inside,
down through the rock sky to the molten atmosphere.

I hate being alone. I’ll miss the birds and fish,
and trees here don’t care if I sing in the morning.
But as this place becomes the surface of the Moon

the lonely trees will disappear, too. Then I’ll wish
I’d sung to their indifferent branches. Their warning,
that lonely indifference, is a cold blue jazz tune.




I think the geophysics that can kill bottom-feeding fish and flying birds isn’t too obscure. And the fact that we don’t see anyone speculating about it is disconcerting in itself.

Gases vent upward through porous rocks and crevices. Often, of course, these gases vent directly into the atmosphere. But when gases vent into a body of water, the gases are most concentrated, most deadly in the cases of hydrogen sulfide and others, right at the bottom of the water where the gases vent out of the earth. So, there at the bottom of the water, the gases kill any bottom-feeding fish that happen to be in the vicinity of the vent. But then the gases disperse into the water, becoming less concentrated, less deadly, and don’t kill other fish. When the gases eventually rise up out of the water and enter the atmosphere, normal air currents disperse the gas further but, sometimes, randomly, air currents will concentrate gas into transient pockets that are dense enough to be deadly to flocks of birds that, again randomly, fly through the shifting concentrations of gas.

I’m not a geologist or a physicist, but that sounds like a reasonable mechanism. And I believe that up-welling gases often have been deadly in just these manners in volcanic areas around the globe, so this isn’t random speculation or pure invention.

But is the whole Gulf Coast and most of the East Coast becoming a volcanic area?






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Thomas Gold at Wikipedia



*



This Evening At The Stilyagi Bar®


The Point Of A Pin



Quasi Una Petroleum Fantasia









Wednesday, January 05, 2011

“Pretty Horrifying But Actually Very Real”



Oops. I’d intended to have something special written for today, but—for reasons that I might get into in another post—I never wrote anything at all. Oops.

Anyway, here’s a cool quote I was going to use. Someday I’ll get back to this.



But, you know, that’s how movies are made these days.

I think that when business and marketing and sales people make decisions about movies you’re going to have more pop songs in them. I think not all filmmakers are interested in doing that with their films and it’s a real tension. I’ve heard a music supervisor tell a group of young, up and coming directors at Sundance you don’t want to be known in the business as a director who’s unwilling to be flexible about your use of music, which I found pretty horrifying but actually very real. Again, we’re in a period here where sales dynamics are making decisions about films rather than filmmakers.




Composer Shirley Walker
(on her commentary track)










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Shirley Walker at Wikipedia


Thin Lines Spread Out Into A Grid
















Tuesday, January 04, 2011

Anagnorisis



The story of how the computer on my desk got to me is one of the most peculiar tales of the twentieth century, and it demonstrates many tropes often considered merely literary—peripeteia (a sudden reversal in the plot), hamartia (an error in judgment or a mistake), anagnorisis (unexpected recognition), catharsis (strong feelings), as well as significant amounts of tragedy, terror, and pathos, and even some comedy. Many characters took part, and they did, indeed, act in character—some were dedicated, brave, enterprising, and lucky. Others were hotheaded, deceptive, foolish, and unfortunate. All were brilliant...

... It is as if we have several movies running simultaneously—a sunlit-apple-pie-American-progress movie in one theater, a noirish tale of cold war deception, paranoia, and intrigue in the theater next door, a version of Mrs. Miniver crossed with a spy movie set in the blacked-out streets of London in a third, and, as a bonus in the fourth theater, a terrifying German resistance film, set in a collapsing Berlin, but with a happy ending.






As early as 1517 the painting was starting to flake. By 1556—less than sixty years after it was finished — Leonardo's biographer Giorgio Vasari described the painting as already "ruined" and so deteriorated that the figures were unrecognizable. In 1652 a doorway was cut through the (then unrecognizable) painting, and later bricked up; this can still be seen as the irregular arch shaped structure near the center base of the painting. It is believed, through early copies, that Jesus' feet were in a position symbolizing the forthcoming crucifixion. In 1768 a curtain was hung over the painting for the purpose of protection; it instead trapped moisture on the surface, and whenever the curtain was pulled back, it scratched the flaking paint.






Nobody knows, too, if the Mount Sinai
in Egypt is the one from the Bible.
You’d think people would have kept track of that
from generation to generation
but history is full of surprises.









I like the word anagnorisis. You don’t see it very often. So I’m doing this post to sort of celebrate seeing the word in Jane Smiley’s biography of John Atanasoff. And yesterday I talked about a book I hadn’t read, so today I wanted to talk a little about a book I recently did read.

However I picked a book that’s very hard to talk about. So I’m just going to talk about one of the words from her introduction, anagnorisis.

Jane Smiley’s book, “The Man Who Invented The Computer,” a biography of John Atanasoff, is a pretty good book. Smiley is a Pulitzer Prize winning writer and her skills are on display in how she writes and how she thinks.

But just glancing at the reader reviews of this book at Amazon kind of clues a person in that there is more going on here than meets the eyes.

Why does nobody know who John Atanasoff was? Why is Smiley being attacked for writing this book?


I don’t think this is a case of “Who is John Galt?” I think this is a case of “Who is Philo Farnsworth?”


I’ve been interested in Atanasoff for a long time. For people who feel some kind of engagement with this issue, the fact that I like this book and I am doing a blog post about it should make my position on Atanasoff clear. But I’m not going to re-assert Smiley’s history here.


Anagnorisis is an interesting word.


“The Last Supper” by Leonardo da Vinci is an interesting painting.

When da Vinci painted it, around 1498, fresco technology had been in use for hundreds of years. The business of painting on wet plaster—or taking half-assed shortcuts—was very well understood.

Leonardo was not particularly rushed in this assignment. Why did he paint this image in such an absurdly incompetent fashion? It fell apart within decades of its completion.

Why did the owners allow such a large-scale, major work of Leonardo to fall to pieces, to be mutilated, allow the feet of Jesus to be chipped away and bricked over?

Modern commentators see all manner of mystical ‘messages’ in this image. (Hmmm. Chipping away and bricking over the feat of Jesus. Shakespeare has gotten giggles for hundreds of years with his country matters bit of word play.) If Leonardo went to the trouble to compose such hidden meanings, why didn’t he paint the image using a technique that would last more than a few decades? Such techniques were common, and the consequences of not using the established techniques were known.

I mean, it’s Leonardo da Vinci. He was sort of the original Renaissance Man. Wasn’t he?


I don’t think this is a case of “Who is John Galt?” I think this is a case of “Who is Philo Farnsworth?”


History is full of surprises.









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“Philo Farnsworth” at Wikipedia


This Scary, Pumpkin Time Of Year, Part Two






















Monday, January 03, 2011

A Place To Read Books I’ve Never Read


For the most part, with a few exceptions, I’ve been lucky enough to have read many of the book I’ve always wanted to read.

There are old mathematics book from France about infinitesimals that I’ve never been able to find translated into English so I’ve never read those books. There are some others.

And I haven’t read this book:

This book is not too hard to find, both at bookstores and libraries, but I am kind of saving it.

When writer/director Wes Craven made his remarkable film-and-sequel combination of “A Nightmare on Elm Street” and “Wes Craven’s New Nightmare” he used earthquakes as a metaphor. He wanted to convey the notion that just as we take the solid ground under our feet for granted and that presumption is stripped away with terrifying results in earthquakes, possibly our understanding of reality itself is a presumption which is sometimes stripped away with equally terrifying results.

“The Myth of Solid Ground” is a non-fiction discussion of earthquakes, from the point-of-view not just of scientific understanding, but also of cultural acceptance and beliefs.

I have no particular attachment to or affection for solid ground and I am kind of saving this book because someday I hope to read it when I have abandoned solid ground entirely and am sitting on something like this:


Normally when I indulge in thoughts of going off to blue water I imagine myself in a small sailboat. And, at the other end of the spectrum, I’ve sometimes thought about an expedition yacht. This boat—this kind of boat—is something in the middle. It is called, generally, a motor-sailer or a pilothouse yacht. It has a larger engine than a normal sailboat, but not as large as a power boat. And it has a workable sail area, but not as large as a proper sailing yacht. And the bridge is enclosed. That’s the “pilothouse” part. You can steer the boat if it’s raining without getting blasted by sheets of water.

A yacht like this, of course, is more expensive than a simple sailboat. And there is much more that can break.

But it would be fun to read a book about earthquakes while sitting in the pilothouse of a boat a few hundred miles away from any earth that can quake.















Sunday, January 02, 2011

2010 Complete Index



December 2010


Friday, December 31, 2010 -- Digging Britney Redux

Thursday, December 30, 2010 -- Sway Me More

Wednesday, December 29, 2010 -- Men, Women, The Hollywood Promise

Tuesday, December 28, 2010 -- What You Play And What You Play With

Monday, December 27, 2010 -- The Dragons Of Saturn


Friday, December 24, 2010 -- Christmas Witches: Ogres And Showgirls

Thursday, December 23, 2010 -- Asteroid Scheila/Comet Scheila Update

Wednesday, December 22, 2010 -- Love Sonnet With Piano Wreckage And Worms

Tuesday, December 21, 2010 -- All The Ears Of Cerberus

Monday, December 20, 2010 -- LuthorCorp Experiments: The Hero’s Commitment


Friday, December 17, 2010 -- Headphones And Crucibles

Thursday, December 16, 2010 -- Is Asteroid Scheila Really Comet Scheila?

Wednesday, December 15, 2010 -- This Evening At The Stilyagi Bar®

Tuesday, December 14, 2010 -- My Ice Odyssey And The Short Pants Guy

Monday, December 13, 2010 -- How To Shop With Beethoven


Friday, December 10, 2010 -- Hooking Up Is About Love

Thursday, December 9, 2010 -- Pretty Crates Above Train Tracks

Wednesday, December 8, 2010 -- In Which I Do Something Almost Like A Craft!

Tuesday, December 7, 2010 -- The Donut Shop Parking Lot Necropolis

Monday, December 6, 2010 -- Thin Lines Spread Out Into A Grid


Friday, December 3, 2010 -- What Is Love? 7—“Beyond Apollo”

Thursday, December 2, 2010 -- Digging Britney

Wednesday, December 1, 2010 -- Shrugging Off My Cosmology Guilt



November 2010


Tuesday, November 30, 2010 -- Creatures Surrounded By Stone

Monday, November 29, 2010 -- “The Stupidest Conversation Since Time Began”


Friday, November 26, 2010 -- This Airship, This Woman, This Dream

Thursday, November 25, 2010 -- This Woman And A Flickering Candle

Wednesday, November 24, 2010 -- Real Writers Almost Never Say ‘Sparkle’

Tuesday, November 23, 2010 -- Gain Joyful Expressions

Monday, November 22, 2010 -- Desire, Wonder And Sleeping Alone


Friday, November 19, 2010 -- Los Angeles, Nonetheless, Is

Thursday, November 18, 2010 -- The Damn Punk Human Who Isn’t Jamie

Wednesday, November 17, 2010 -- Unattractive Pumpkins Learn The Way To San Jose

Tuesday, November 16, 2010 -- The New Nirvana Vs. The Lost Mountains Of Tibet

Monday, November 15, 2010 -- The Difference Between Clouds And Conquistadors


Friday, November 12, 2010 -- Affektenlehre

Thursday, November 11, 2010 -- Hobo Unbound

Wednesday, November 10, 2010 -- The Mad Scientist Is Always Laughing

Tuesday, November 9, 2010 -- “What The Fuck Is Wrong With You?”

Monday, November 8, 2010 -- My Cactus Plants Hate My Pants


Friday, November 5, 2010 -- It’s Children Screaming

Thursday, November 4, 2010 -- Night Without Boundaries

Wednesday, November 3, 2010 -- Laura Makes Clips That Don’t Get To YouTube

Tuesday, November 2, 2010 -- Another Venus

Monday, November 1, 2010 -- On Being A (Very) Sad Tennis Fan



October 2010


Friday, October 29, 2010 -- Dream Birds Untangle Dream Knots

Thursday, October 28, 2010 -- This Scary, Pumpkin Time Of Year, Part Two

Wednesday, October 27, 2010 -- Pushing Past The Servant

Tuesday, October 26, 2010 -- The Donut Shop Parking Lot Is Not Enough

Monday, October 25, 2010 -- A Craft Of Knots


Friday, October 22, 2010 -- “Now I Dream Of The Plum Rains”

Thursday, October 21, 2010 -- Crackpot

Wednesday, October 20, 2010 -- French Guns Come Out Of Little Purses

Tuesday, October 19, 2010 -- The Trees Look Up

Monday, October 18, 2010 -- Comet Hartley 2 Fail


Friday, October 15, 2010 -- Trans Am Girl

Thursday, October 14, 2010 -- A Lost World Where Distance Is God’s Anger

Wednesday, October 13, 2010 -- Ten Thirteen Unanswered Questions #2

Tuesday, October 12, 2010 -- Ten Thirteen Unanswered Questions #1

Monday, October 11, 2010 -- Street Lights And Slutty Bluetits


Saturday, October 9, 2010 -- Endymion Still Loves Selene

Friday, October 8, 2010 -- Coastal Creatures

Thursday, October 7, 2010 -- Once There Were Other Worlds

Wednesday, October 6, 2010 -- Exactly As Beautiful To Us

Tuesday, October 5, 2010 -- An Attractive Cold Shoulder

Monday, October 4, 2010 -- Like A Tree I’m Going


Sunday, October 3, 2010 -- 2010 3rd Quarter Index

Friday, October 1, 2010 -- If The Moon Looks Down



September 2010


Thursday, September 30, 2010 -- Immortal Weapons

Wednesday, September 29, 2010 -- Pictures Of Lily As A Zombie

Tuesday, September 28, 2010 -- Careful Thoughts And Getting Lost

Monday, September 27, 2010 -- A Pretty Bit Of Philosophy


Friday, September 24, 2010 -- The Optimum Expressive Moment Of Time And Place

Thursday, September 23, 2010 -- “Strictly Speaking She Harmonizes”

Wednesday, September 22, 2010 -- Equally And As Hopelessly Lost

Tuesday, September 21, 2010 -- Heavy Weather In The Third Kind Of Water

Monday, September 20, 2010 -- The Margins Of Water In The Wild


Friday, September 17, 2010 -- Notebooks (A Start)

Thursday, September 16, 2010 -- Looking Away From Selene And Endymion

Wednesday, September 15, 2010 -- Whatever Pretend Means

Tuesday, September 14, 2010 -- Bluetits

Monday, September 13, 2010 -- Selene Still Loves Endymion


Friday, September 10, 2010 -- Religion, Politics And The Great Pumpkin

Thursday, September 9, 2010 -- The Application Of Beyond Understanding

Wednesday, September 8, 2010 -- On Being A Sad Tennis Fan

Tuesday, September 7, 2010 -- Fluorescent Lights On A Book Of Shadows

Monday, September 6, 2010 -- Dreaming Of Ice Age Tribulations


Friday, September 3, 2010 -- Princess From Atlantis Without A Band-Aid

Thursday, September 2, 2010 -- Turning Away From A Bookshelf

Wednesday, September 1, 2010 -- Lidian Emerson As Vertical Lines



August 2010


Tuesday, August 31, 2010 -- When The Planet Convulses And Glowing Lava Flows

Monday, August 30, 2010 -- Questions From The Gulf: Is That A Whale?


Friday, August 27, 2010 -- There’s Not Even A Blue Sky Any More

Thursday, August 26, 2010 -- A Bird Who Could Fly To Neptune

Wednesday, August 25, 2010 -- In The Mind Of Everyone Seeing Paris

Tuesday, August 24, 2010 -- No Doubts About The Party

Monday, August 23, 2010 -- The Opposite Of Washing Machine


Friday, August 20, 2010 -- Where The Tree Goes Into The Ground

Thursday, August 19, 2010 -- Lame Thursday (Another [!] Sick Day)

Wednesday, August 18, 2010 -- Prehistoric Sharks In The Atlantic?

Tuesday, August 17, 2010 -- Looking At A Street Light In The Jungle

Monday, August 16, 2010 -- Dinosaurs Are Searching For A Path To Disney


Friday, August 13, 2010 -- Quasi Una Red Guitar Fantasia

Thursday, August 12, 2010 -- True, Ugly, Ravished, Lost

Wednesday, August 11, 2010 -- More Than Color

Tuesday, August 10, 2010 -- The Hopeless Chaos Of An Actual Field

Monday, August 9, 2010 -- We’re Going To Need A Bigger Boat


Friday, August 6, 2010 -- A Typewriter Preserved From Roman Times

Thursday, August 5, 2010 -- Sitting Here Cruising Thousands Of Feet Down

Wednesday, August 4, 2010 -- Cockroaches From Space Redux

Tuesday, August 3, 2010 -- Thinking About Watercolors, Drawings And Photos

Monday, August 2, 2010 -- I’m Thinking Of A Room With A Calculator



July 2010


Friday, July 30, 2010 -- Steam And Laughter By The Somewhere Tree

Thursday, July 29, 2010 -- “Yet Baghdad Is”

Wednesday, July 28, 2010 -- “Heavy Cargo In The Heart Of The Sea”

Tuesday, July 27, 2010 -- Calculating Marigold Space

Monday, July 26, 2010 -- The Endless Death Of Maple White


Friday, July 23, 2010 -- Sunlight On Lidian Emerson

Thursday, July 22, 2010 -- The Endless Death Of Chrissie Watkins

Wednesday, July 21, 2010 -- Singing Is For The Birds

Tuesday, July 20, 2010 -- A Mussel Of A Different Color

Monday, July 19, 2010 -- The Point Of A Pin


Friday, July 16, 2010 -- Quasi Una Petroleum Fantasia

Thursday, July 15, 2010 -- Tears From The Heart Of The Sea

Wednesday, July 14, 2010 -- Molly Malone Redux

Tuesday, July 13, 2010 -- One Quick Megan Fox Moment

Monday, July 12, 2010 -- Like A Bright Green Fantasy


Friday, July 9, 2010 -- Women From The Ancient Cities

Thursday, July 8, 2010 -- Electric Golgotha

Wednesday, July 7, 2010 -- Lex Luthor Versus Ludwika Chopin

Tuesday, July 6, 2010 -- A Thomas Dolby Update (Sick Day)

Monday, July 5, 2010 -- Homeopathy And The Groupie Hierarchy


Friday, July 2, 2010 -- Sharks In Shoes

Thursday, July 1, 2010 -- 2010 2nd Quarter Index



June 2010


Wednesday, June 30, 2010 -- I Wish ‘Gwen Conliffe’ Could Exist

Tuesday, June 29, 2010 -- Mischa: The Temptation To Go Unplugged

Monday, June 28, 2010 -- Pluto In Magic And Alchemy


Friday, June 25, 2010 -- All That’s Left Of The Atlantic Ocean

Thursday, June 24, 2010 -- The Beautiful Parking Lot Without Mercy

Wednesday, June 23, 2010 -- The Harajuku Station Forever

Tuesday, June 22, 2010 -- Stop-Motion Animation Meets Wood Burning

Monday, June 21, 2010 -- Affannato


Friday, June 18, 2010 -- Exact Numbers

Thursday, June 17, 2010 -- These Are The New Days

Wednesday, June 16, 2010 -- Puddle Monsters: Puddles In The Sky

Tuesday, June 15, 2010 -- Frogs From The Sky!

Monday, June 14, 2010 -- The Impossible Kisses Statement On Lady Gaga

Monday, June 14, 2010 -- Mischa: A House That Can’t Be Fixed


Friday, June 11, 2010 -- The Flat Night

Thursday, June 10, 2010 -- A Scene From “The Big Screen Girl”

Wednesday, June 9, 2010 -- The Intention Of A Zombie’s Kiss

Tuesday, June 8, 2010 -- The Empire Of Kimberly’s Innocence

Monday, June 7, 2010 -- Margo Makes Movies That Don’t Get Released


Friday, June 4, 2010 -- Shanghai In The Epipelagic Layer

Thursday, June 3, 2010 -- Another Jupiter Impact!

Wednesday, June 2, 2010 -- Persistence Personified

Tuesday, June 1, 2010 -- A Shadow Too Dark For Atlantis



May 2010


Monday, May 31, 2010 -- People Become Things: Carreg Samson


Friday, May 28, 2010 -- Cookies And High Heels In A Clean Kitchen

Thursday, May 27, 2010 -- Return To The Kitchen

Wednesday, May 26, 2010 -- “Perfect In His Generations”

Tuesday, May 25, 2010 -- Porcelain Scientists With Metal Helpers

Monday, May 24, 2010 -- The Squirrel Silhouetted Against The Moon


Friday, May 21, 2010 -- Modern Romance In The Noir

Thursday, May 20, 2010 -- CĂ©zanne Thinking

Wednesday, May 19, 2010 -- Is This A Junkyard Church

Tuesday, May 18, 2010 -- Shanghai Rain

Monday, May 17, 2010 -- Industrial Landscape, Industrial Decay, Jazz


Friday, May 14, 2010 -- The Epistemology Of Stevie Nicks

Thursday, May 13, 2010 -- A Feeble Post

Wednesday, May 12, 2010 -- New Light For My Nefarious Doings?

Tuesday, May 11, 2010 -- Seeing Zombies In Christina’s World

Monday, May 10, 2010 -- A Compass Like A Piece Of Clothing


Friday, May 7, 2010 -- Poor Lucy Falling To Pieces

Thursday, May 6, 2010 -- Not A Moment To Feel Pain

Wednesday, May 5, 2010 -- Thinking Of Mountains

Tuesday, May 4, 2010 -- Sundown In The Place Called Atlantis

Monday, May 3, 2010 -- Chopin: Keyboards And Butterflies



April 2010


Friday, April 30, 2010 -- Coming Attractions

Thursday, April 29, 2010 -- Fire Maidens From Atlantis Via Russia

Wednesday, April 28, 2010 -- When Any Woman Visits My Studio

Tuesday, April 27, 2010 -- Real Estate Gothic

Monday, April 26, 2010 -- Yellow Dress: A Keyboard Odyssey


Friday, April 23, 2010 -- The Occult Technology Of Lost Songs

Thursday, April 22, 2010 -- In Shanghai We’re All Dramatic Chipmunks

Wednesday, April 21, 2010 -- I Understand, But Then There’s Joss Stone

Tuesday, April 20, 2010 -- A Consolation And An Inspiration

Monday, April 19, 2010 -- Mathilda And Nicole: A Bra Odyssey


Saturday, April 17, 2010 -- Big Glass Views Of The Heavens

Friday, April 16, 2010 -- The Bright Lights Of The Finished Show

Thursday, April 15, 2010 -- “Are you a witch?”

Wednesday, April 14, 2010 -- “Don’t think! Just Pick Up The Phone...”

Tuesday, April 13, 2010 -- Imagining My Lost Blue Umbrella

Monday, April 12, 2010 -- Not For The Faint Of Tongue


Friday, April 9, 2010 -- Something Like Fear Whispers Over Tea

Thursday, April 8, 2010 -- Dumbbell And Gobbledygook

Wednesday, April 7, 2010 -- An Embrace On The Past

Tuesday, April 6, 2010 -- Farther

Monday, April 5, 2010 -- Becky Is A Moving Pictures Girl


Fridayday, April 2, 2010 -- “Organic Chemistry Is So Hard!”

Thursday, April 1, 2010 -- 2010 1st Quarter Index



March 2010


Wednesday, March 31, 2010 -- There’s A Hand Raising A Phone

Tuesday, March 30, 2010 -- Writers Versus Painters By The Perfume River

Monday, March 29, 2010 -- “You Watch Television To Turn Your Brain Off”


Friday, March 26, 2010 -- Stuff Goes On In Outer Space

Thursday, March 25, 2010 -- “This Was A Different World”

Wednesday, March 24, 2010 -- RIP Robert Culp, 1930 - 2010

Tuesday, March 23, 2010 -- A Long Walk

Monday, March 22, 2010 -- Claudie Haigneré As The Paris Of Tomorrow


Friday, March 19, 2010 -- Thunderbirds Are Still Go

Thursday, March 18, 2010 -- Big Chair And Three Women: (2) Big Chair

Wednesday, March 17, 2010 -- Big Chair And Three Women: (1) Three Women

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 -- Being A Writer In Drew’s World

Monday, March 15, 2010 -- Mischa: Sexy Things About Physics


Friday, March 12, 2010 -- I Hear Dinosaur Music. It’s Beautiful Music.

Thursday, March 11, 2010 -- The Catastrophic Glow Of Jenny’s Shadow

Wednesday, March 10, 2010 -- No, Monsters Won’t Learn To Dance

Tuesday, March 9, 2010 -- “Sexy As The Dead Bridges”

Monday, March 8, 2010 -- The Synchronistic Glow Of Jenny’s Shadow


Friday, March 5, 2010 -- The Metaphysical Glow Of Jenny’s Shadow

Thursday, March 4, 2010 -- Genesis 2:20-25 Also

Wednesday, March 3, 2010 -- A Cartoon Can’t Buy A Yawn

Tuesday, March 2, 2010 -- The Quo Vadis? Question

Monday, March 1, 2010 -- “Expedition” Versus “Going Out”



February 2010


Friday, February 26, 2010 -- Planetary Colors And The Grail Quest

Thursday, February 25, 2010 -- Beautiful And The Damned, Emo And The Glammed

Wednesday, February 24, 2010 -- Adventure’s Waiting Just Ahead

Tuesday, February 23, 2010 -- Neptune Light

Monday, February 22, 2010 -- Naming Things


Friday, February 19, 2010 -- Madonna Di Loreto

Thursday, February 18, 2010 -- “Echelon Building Destroyed in Plane Crash”

Wednesday, February 17, 2010 -- The Built World Before The Wrecking Crew

Tuesday, February 16, 2010 -- Squirrels Of Chaos And Delight

Monday, February 15, 2010 -- Editors Comma Having Been Cut Down Comma


Friday, February 12, 2010 -- Veiled

Thursday, February 11, 2010 -- In The Shadow Of The Mouse Ears

Wednesday, February 10, 2010 -- Everybody Knows Who They Are

Tuesday, February 9, 2010 -- The Way Of The Intercepting Fist

Monday, February 8, 2010 -- The Writing On My Hand


Friday, February 5, 2010 -- Freedom From The Wild

Thursday, February 4, 2010 -- Adam And Eve And Keith Richards

Wednesday, February 3, 2010 -- The Apocalypse Of Her Yellow Dress

Tuesday, February 2, 2010 -- Yellow Dress! Yellow Dress!

Monday, February 1, 2010 -- Dining At Impossible Kisses



January 2010


Friday, January 29, 2010 -- Expedition To Amy

Thursday, January 28, 2010 -- Narrative, And Creatures That Take Us Away

Wednesday, January 27, 2010 -- Damsels And Werewolves

Tuesday, January 26, 2010 -- Putting On The Stars

Monday, January 25, 2010 -- Mischa Barton As The Burgess Shale


Friday, January 22, 2010 -- Beth Plays Pinball

Thursday, January 21, 2010 -- Paint Versus Ink

Wednesday, January 20, 2010 -- The Metaphysics Of Elle

Tuesday, January 19, 2010 -- Children Of Legend

Monday, January 18, 2010 -- A Ladybug Looking Out At Winter


Friday, January 15, 2010 -- Rocket Summer People

Thursday, January 14, 2010 -- What Love Looks Like In Words

Wednesday, January 13, 2010 -- Is Iowa Seeking A Diane Monopoly?

Tuesday, January 12, 2010 -- Indecision — Death By Dagny

Monday, January 11, 2010 -- Taylor Swift With No Makeup


Friday, January 8, 2010 -- Crown And Tiara

Thursday, January 7 2010 -- The Clock That Laughs And Loves

Wednesday, January 6, 2010 -- “Simple Twist of Fate”

Tuesday, January 5, 2010 -- What Malcontent Yellow Pencils Are Thinking

Monday, January4, 2010 -- 2009 Complete Index


Friday, January 1, 2010 -- Maybe The Fuzzy Green Balls Are Monsters

Friday, January 1, 2010 -- The Fuzzy Green Balls Aren’t Monsters