On Workers Leaving The Lumière Factory

I said that quote like a butterfly goes
drifting along at the edge of a storm
or maybe I said it like a whale goes
drifting along under a madman’s boat
or maybe I said it like a spacecraft
drifting along above a storm in space
or maybe I said it like a pigeon
drifting along above electric lines
and I wonder now how...

But That’s How A Melville Metaphor Ends

The Flip Video cameras are a series of tapeless camcorders for digital video created by Pure Digital Technologies, a company bought by Cisco Systems in March 2009; variants included the UltraHD, the MinoHD, and the SlideHD. Production of the line of Flip video cameras ran between 2006 until it retired in April 2011.

... It was announced on March 19, 2009, that Cisco Systems had acquired Pure Digital Technologies, the maker of Flip Video for $590 million USD in stock. The acquisition was completed on May 21, 2009.

On April 12, 2011, Cisco announced that it "will exit aspects of its consumer business" which includes shutting down the Flip.

Some observers suggested that the Flip was facing growing competition from camera phones, particularly smartphones (which have disrupted point-and-shoot cameras, wristwatches, alarm clocks, portable music players, and GPS devices) that have recently added HD movie capability; the smartphones' cellular networks have enabled better ease of sharing content. Contrary to popular perception, however, smartphones as of 2011 are still a small fraction of overall worldwide sales of cell phones (most which do not have high-definition video), and the Flip was still selling strongly when its discontinuation was announced. Another suggested reason was because consumer hardware was not part of Cisco's core businesses of services and software, furthermore the profit margins on consumer electronics were narrow.

As Cisco shut down the Flip business instead of divesting of it, it has been suggested that the patents and other intellectual property from the acquisition could have proved valuable to Cisco's videoconferencing businesses in the future.

Flip Video
at Wikipedia

Of all the various mistakes I’ve made here at the blog—and by mistakes I mean things I wish I hadn’t done—there are two that stand out to me.

The first is that I wish I hadn’t ever posted about celebrities. Celebrities, possibly especially in the modern world, are almost always deeply troubled people. Just by paying attention to them, their troubles in some small way become part of our world. There’s just no reason for that. There are more important things worth doing.

The second is that I wish I hadn’t ever posted about one or two real people I know who are part of that celebrity world. Celebrities are sad enough. But the very smart and very talented people who create celebrities and create our pop culture built around celebrities are almost incomprehensible to me.

I said “almost incomprehensible” because I think and feel I do understand it a little—very, very little, but a little—I mean about the people who create and service celebrities and pop culture built around them.

But like celebrities themselves, that behind-the-scenes stuff is so horrible that there is just no reason for paying attention to it. There are more important things worth doing.

I’m trying to get better at lots of things. I’m making a special effort to not repeat these two mistakes. Ever.



*



Of all the gadgets that I never bought
I think I miss the Flip camera most.

My e-mail database has some letters
from someone who worked at Pure Digital.

It was a cool company. Cool people.

They designed and marketed cool gadgets.

I bought a better camera instead.

But what really does the word ‘better’ mean?

I wish I had paid more attention to
all the issues of that question sooner.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


The Monster Thought Of The Waldensians

The Optimum Expressive Moment Of Time And Place

That Third Evil Clown

The Dark Sidewalk In Daylight (Still Dark)

When You Press Down A Piano Key

Damsels And Werewolves

Fictional Characters Can Keep Trying

The woman came in
To switch off the monster’s film
But stayed
To watch
With him

“The cinématographe itself was patented
on 13 February 1895 and the first footage
ever to be recorded using it was recorded
on March 19, 1895. This first film shows
workers leaving the Lumière factory.”

“OP-1 Is What It Is”

I don’t have much for today, but I have a little post that is very interesting to me. This is something that has given me a lot of thought over the last few days.

I’m going to talk about that little Teenage Engineering music workstation again, the OP-1. I still haven’t bought one, but I’m still very interested in it.

A few days ago I read, somewhere, that some people have discovered some glitches with the OP-1. So I looked around the net and found an “unofficial” site dedicated to the OP-1, OhPeeWon.com unofficial OP-1 forums. Looking around there, I discovered that some people find the headphone output of the device to be unacceptably noisy for a very expensive piece of digital equipment. Since CD players have come out, most everybody expects audio now to be almost always something near perfect.

In the course of reading through one of the threads at that site, I saw this very succinct comment replying to the complaint about noise on the headphone out:

“This is what an OP-1 is. What does it
sound like? It sounds like an OP-1.
If you don't like what you got
return it. OP-1 is what it is. Lots
of people love it.”

It’s hard for me to describe how much time I’ve spent thinking about this comment.

First of all, my initial reaction to a noisy digital device is to simply dismiss the device. It’s the twenty-first century. Audio engineers can design very clean circuits these days. It’s almost inconceivable any company would charge almost a thousand dollars for a device that doesn’t have clean outputs.

But then I read that little comment simply observing that the OP-1 sounds like an OP-1.

Now I don’t really know what to think.

I’ve posted about some other modern music tools. I’ve talked about the Dave Smith Tempest, and I’ve talked about the Korg Kaossilator.

The Scarf Would Be Like Dancing

A Cool Kaossilator 2 Tip

And I’ve mentioned, at least, very cool powerful small synthesizers like the Virus and Gaia.

“The Piano Singing Back To You”

One of the thing I’ve noticed about these machines/instruments is that they are very machine-like. I know that sounds like tautology, but what I mean is that musical instruments have historically been very human-centric devices. They’re designed to be held. In fact they’re designed to be held very close. And performers often, poetically and perhaps otherwise, sometimes speak of becoming one with their instrument.

A lot of modern “instruments”—synthesizers and so-called controllers (controllers are devices designed to interface to a computer and control a digital audio workstation software package or other virtual instrument: The Orchestra As A Mythical Creature)—seem to be machines designed simply as machines. There is very little thought given to designing and constructing them as devices that a person would want to hold and, too, even, want to hold close.

The Teenage Engineering OP-1 is very unique in that of all the synthesizers and workstations I’ve looked at over the last few years, the OP-1 is the only machine that even attempts to have a “personality.” Both the hardware and the software have elements that are colorful and anthropomorphic and respect both the complexity of the task they’re performing and the humanity of the performer trying to accomplish some musical task.

For instance, the OP-1 is the only machine I can think of where so many of the music videos people create feature close-ups of the machine’s display, simply because the machine’s display isn’t only functional, it is also fun. For instance, watch and listen to the video at this link which includes many images of the display captured while the music is playing.

So this is a real interesting topic for me.

I’ve heard many demos of the OP-1 and I’ve never noticed any noise from the line out signal. If it is there, it is not offensively high to me. However a lot of people have noticed noise on the headphone output.

Even after thinking about this for a few days I can’t come to any conclusion about it.

Do I regard this as bad engineering?

Do I regard this as an interesting device with a personality of its own?

I don’t know.

But, to tell the truth, it makes me smile just thinking about a consumer product that is interesting enough to raise an issue as thought-provoking as this.

Someday I’m going to buy one of these. I know it. But not yet.

But it’s a lot of fun thinking about it.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


Beautiful Queen Of All The World’s Gadgets


Mindstorms And Music And One Smart Brick



Secret Gadgets And Gadget Secrets

I Think Stars Want Us

In the islands where I grew up
Nothing seems the same
It’s just the patterns that remain
Empty shells
But there’s a strangeness in the air
We know too well

“On The Border”
Al Stewart

Today, Tuesday evening as I type this, it was a cool evening and I mean cool as in cold, and cool as in cool.

For the last couple of months around here south of Chicago we’ve had a lot of cloudy weather. I’ve gotten to enjoy photographing the young Moon, but it has been hit and miss for a while because of all the clouds.

A few days ago—almost like somebody threw a switch—the clouds went away and now we are getting almost clear blue skies during the day and clear star-filled skies almost every night.

So this evening I was walking home from somewhere and shivering because of the cold, but I was also enjoying the clear sky. Jupiter is bright early in the evening now. Looking up I noticed that Jupiter is very close to the beautiful orange star Aldebaran in Taurus.

So I looked down and a little to the east and there were the familiar stars of Orion the hunter, Rigel, Bellatrix and Betelgeuse. And Sirius a little lower still.

Among astronomy buffs there are what are casually called ‘winter stars’ and ‘summer stars’ and here in the northern hemisphere winter stars are constellations like Taurus, Orion, Canis Major, Gemini, Cancer and other, surrounding stars.

Today, tonight I mean, this evening, was the first time this season I saw the winter stars.

I love the winter stars. I’ve posted about them many times, for instance,

Blazing Dawn

Pumpkin Mars In The New Myth Sky

Moths, Scorpions And Unreal Women

More Night Than Just The Stars


The summer stars are wonderful, too. Lyra, Cygnus, Aquila and others. I’ve posted about them many times, too, for instance,

Where The Scorpion Sits Down For Tea

Expeditions And Wilderness Parties

Unstable Designs That Burn Up


When I first became serious about astronomy as a very young boy the first constellations I learned were Taurus, with the very beautiful Pleiades, and Orion with its distinctive belt. Now, no matter how much I’ve come to dislike the cold, in a very intense and personal way I regard the winter stars, somehow, as something like home.

This new year has gotten off to a very slow, even plodding, start for me. But looking up this evening and seeing the winter stars for the first time this season made me relax a little. I felt comfortable. And happy.


*


Magazines and books look like magazines and books
but they’re different they’re so different from what they were.

People look like people but instead of sunlight
instead of reflecting light from the nearest star
people reflect electric television light.

Electric light pushes away the stars at night.

Television is better than lonely darkness.

But the sky is more the stars are more and I think
stars want us to see them and will always love us.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


Old Ghosts Haunting A Garden Shop Moon

The Thin Crescent Moon—A Postscript

Crown And Tiara


Blows Against The (Expensive) Empire
“Have you seen the stars tonight?”

The Wild Is Becoming Unbound

This morning for one reason or another I was up at dawn. And sunrise is a great time to look around for strange and interesting light effects.

My cactus garden was very bright in the morning sunlight.

And it was strange, too.

It’s a new year in the cactus garden
and while I’m dreaming of Los Angeles
they’re dreaming of the sands of San Jose
and road runners, locusts and rattlesnakes.

The real wild. The world outside the window.

They’re twenty-first century cactus plants
and they don’t feel bound down where their roots are.

“Look at that Sun,” I think one cactus said.
“Anywhere that Sun shines is home for us.”

“That same Sun shines on Mars,” I pointed out.

“But on Mars,” a cactus said, “we wouldn’t
see road runners, locusts and rattlesnakes.”

“But think what we might see,” another said.

It’s a new year in the cactus garden
and the current cactus migration plans
call for me to get to Los Angeles
by way of the shifting red sands of Mars.

The twenty-first century wild outside
the real window is becoming unbound.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


Blinded By The Science Of Migration


This Space, Here


An Unclear Story About Walking To Mars


Ghosts Aren’t What They Used To Be


Freedom From The Wild/Lost In Metonymy


My Cactus Plants Hate My Pants

Blinded By The Science Of Migration

As I type this it is very cold here.

I mean in Chicago, not in my room.

And I can prove it. About Chicago
being cold, I mean, not that my room’s warm.

Technology supports my assertion:

While I was being technological
and documenting my claim about cold,
I took a look at Los Angeles, too:

It’s not as warm as my room, but it’s nice.

And look what the weather algorithms
predict about the two temperatures.

Fifty degrees feels like it’s, well, fifty,
for people living in Los Angles,
but for those of us living over here,
twenty-nine degrees feels like twenty-one.

To the algorithms, Los Angeles
is a place where things feel like what they are.

Science! I wonder if it can be trusted?

Right this second, my fingers on these keys,
I feel exactly like those dinosaurs—
out of place, out of date, on an island,
not desperate and unable to escape
but rather staring at a distant ship
ignoring the wreckage of the island
desperate to but unable to migrate:

“Oh, my God,” Grant said.

He stared at the raptors, ranged along the beach in a rigid formation, silently watching the boat. And he suddenly understood what he was looking at.

“Those animals,” Gennaro said, shaking his head, “they sure are desperate to escape from here.”

“No,” Grant said. “They don’t want to escape at all.”

“They don’t?”

“No,” Grant said. “They want to migrate.”

from “Jurassic Park”
by Michael Crichton
quoted in Japanese Train Stations Forever

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


Chicago Weather
at Weather.com

Los Angeles Weather
at Weather.com


*


A Squirrel And A Donut For Ever And Ever


The Metronome As A Place To Switch Off


Expedition To Amy
“She Blinded Me With Science”


Like A Tree I’m Going


A Lost World Where Distance Is God’s Anger

The Persistence Of Rocks

A leave-behind as the name suggests, is a part or sampling of a portfolio that is left with a potential employer or exhibitor after a meeting or interview. Leave-behinds can be anything from brochures, self-promotional flyers, creative packages with key portfolio elements, or printed images. Some leave-behinds are more elaborate and interactive, depending on time and budget allowances, such as an interactive and custom designed and packaged CD or DVD or a nicely printed color brochure with pockets for accompanying CDs and business card.

“Leave-Behind”
at Portfolio Center

In Still Life with Milk Can and Apples ... [T]he red, golden, and green apples surround the base of the napkin, which is crumpled and folded in such a way that its upward movement in the center of the composition gives a focus and dynamism to the whole. Its diagonals and curved forms are rendered with both strength and nuance in short hatchings of shades of blue-green, gray, and white to convey a powerful form reminiscent of the profile of the Mont Sainte-Victoire.

William Rubin observes that the “antinaturalistic patterning of the latter [the tablecloth] virtually forms a monumental ‘landscape’ of its own in the center of the picture; less like cloth than a mountain range, it locks the forms of the fruit in place at its feet, much as Mont Sainte-Victoire does in many of Cézanne’s landscapes, in which the mountain unites at its base the nearby houses and trees.”

“Impressionist Still Life”
by Eliza E. Rathbone
and George T. Shackelford

Stone age people left behind cave paintings,
carvings, and strange patterns of rocks on rocks.

Since then people have left behind statues
and poems and books and songs and feature films.

Soon, soon, for the first time in all of this—
the whole saga of human existence—
soon there will be the first generation
to come and go and leave behind nothing.

Soon—maybe they are the young people now—
a generation will not leave behind
its images, sounds, words or ideas.

There will be only magnetic patterns
that can be read correctly or read wrong
or disappear if the wrong key is pressed
or disappear if someone decides it
or disappear if a magnetic field
of sufficient strength pulses somewhere near
in some kind of astrophysics event
or some kind of high tech warfare event.

There will be only magnetic patterns.

You can’t see them or hear them or touch them
unless you are wired up, plugged in, switched on.

When that generation has come and gone
how will the generations that come next
learn that nothing is what it seems to be?

A crumpled up napkin on a table
isn’t a mountain except when it is.

Thinking of napkins. Thinking of mountains.

Thinking of what they both are when they’re not
what they seem to be. Rocks on rocks persist.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


The Empire Of Kimberly’s Innocence

Kimberly When Empires Crumble


Distance From Paris To Berlin

Thinking Of Mountains


People Become Things: Carreg Samson

All The Issues Of Perspective


I Can’t Sleep In My Kitchen

Cézanne Thinking

Three Daisies

I plucked, so to speak, those daisies online
from an image search. It’s much too cold here
for me to find daisies growing outside.

I was talking about “The Great Gatsby”
today with someone who’s looking forward
to the big-budget movie coming soon.

Almost certainly I won’t go see it
even though I sometimes refer to it.

It occurred to me today that I know
about three famous romantic Daisies
and Fitzgerald’s is my least favorite.

The first one that comes to mind is this one:

Everyone in town has succumbed to rhinoceritis save for Berenger, Dudard and Daisy. Berenger is locked up in his apartment, yelling at the rhinos that rush by for having destroyed civilization until Dudard arrives to check on him. Dudard trivializes the transformations by saying that people have the right to choose what they do, even transform; but Berenger insists that the transformations couldn't be voluntary since his friend Jean had initially hated the rhinos and that he was probably brainwashed. Dudard counterargues that people can change their minds and gradually grows more accepting until he concludes that he must "follow [his] peers and [his] leaders" before departing and turning into a rhino.

Just before he departs, Daisy arrives. She and Berenger realize that they are left completely alone - the only humans left in a world of monsters. Berenger professes his love for Daisy and she seems to reciprocate. They attempt, albeit briefly, to have a normal life amongst the rhinoceroses. After Berenger suggests that they attempt to re-populate the human race, Daisy begins to move away from him, suggesting that Berenger doesn't understand love. She comes to believe the rhinoceroses are in the right - they who are truly passionate. Berenger slaps Daisy without thinking, immediately recanting his action. They consider their state with Berenger exclaiming that, "in just a few minutes we have gone through twenty-five years of married life!" They attempt to reconcile, but fail. As Berenger examines himself in a mirror for any evidence of transformation, Daisy quietly leaves to join the rhinoceroses.

Discovering he is completely alone, Berenger laments his behavior with Daisy. In his solitude he begins to doubt his existence - his language, his appearance, and his mind. Alone, he finds himself in the wrong and attempts to change into a rhinoceros. He struggles and fails. He returns to the mirror, face-to-face with his fate and breaks down as he struggles to accept the place he has given himself. Suddenly, he snaps out of it and renews his vow to take on the rhinos. Berenger valiantly shouts "I'm not capitulating!" to the audience before returning to the window to hurl abuse at the passing rhinoceros.

“Rhinoceros” by Eugène Ionesco
at Wikipedia

But my favorite Daisy is the one
HAL the computer sings a song about
when the astronaut starts taking apart
its mind in the film ‘2001.’

If there were an astronaut inside me
gradually pulling my brain apart
I hope my end would be something like that:

Daisy, Daisy
Give me your answer do
I’m half crazy
All for the love of you

It just seems much more romantic to me
than rhinoceroses and swimming pools.

Even without an astronaut in me
gradually pulling my brain apart
I sometimes sing that and play my guitar
or to stay true to the computer theme
I power-up my keyboard workstation.

I don’t know that anyone would sing to
those other two Daisies. I know I don’t.

Now the next time I sing and play that song
I will wonder: Am I one-third crazy?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


“Daisy Bell”
at Wikipedia

That really was
the first song
sung by a computer!


*


Los Angeles Is My Daisy

Clouds Drift As If They’re Listening

No Doubts About The Party


Beethoven In The Camellia Rain

Mischa Barton, Mischa Barton

Soft Gadgets In Marigold Space


A Bird Who Could Fly To Neptune

As Morning Brings A Mist In

“Oh, toaster,
Don’t you put the burn on me”

Brad Majors
“Shock Treatment”

“You don’t know what you’ve done to me.”

the blind artist to Bessie
in “The Light That Failed”
by Rudyard Kipling
quoted in Romanticized Portraits

Some people don’t know it but the filmmakers who made the famous midnight movie “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” also made a sequel to that film and the sequel is called “Shock Treatment.” The two main stars didn’t come back, but the filmmakers got much better actors/singers and in many ways the second film is really better than the first. But the popularity of the “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” was more about pop culture, a strange instant in time, I think, than the film itself. Regardless of how good the sequel was, the kind of long fifteen minutes of fame that the “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” achieved couldn’t be duplicated and nobody much went to see the sequel and, like I said, many people don’t even know a sequel exists.

I think about this a lot because every now and then when I start to jot down lyrics for a song for a little stop-motion video, I catch myself and realize I was just re-stating one or another of the songs from “Shock Treatment.” And I get kind of depressed because I always end up thinking something like, “The film ‘Shock Treatment’ pretty much said almost everything that can be said about the modern world and I’m so in awe of how it did it that I find myself subconsciously recycling its content but the film was so unsuccessful that most people don’t even know it exists so what chance do I have?”

And as if that doesn’t make me depressed enough, yesterday when I was making up my blog index for 2012 I went back and checked the links for the last quarter and I looked in on the post Romanticized Portraits that contains the quote from Kipling’s “The Light That Failed.”

So then I was thinking, “That’s a Kipling book that many people don’t even know exists and if Kipling can have an amazing novel like that fade into obscurity what chance do I have?”

So I’ve started the year kind of depressed.

Sorry.

I’ll get back in gear. I’ve got a couple of ideas for stop-motion videos I want to get to. And I’ve got lots of other projects in progress, but everything is moving slowly. And this is all I have for today. Not a good way to start the year, I know.

Ultimately I don’t think it matters, really, about how popular something is or isn’t. I’m a big fan of the British scientist Rupert Sheldrake. I strongly suspect the whole morphic resonance business has some kind of odd truth to it. So it doesn’t matter if somebody does a cool thing and nobody ever knows about it. I strongly suspect—in some way, perhaps as Sheldrake defines it, perhaps in some other way—the universe itself has memory, or something like memory. And what we do gets remembered. Somewhere. Somehow.

I’m guessing that the fabric of the universe
whatever the fabric of the universe is
vibrates along with the vibrations of a song
wherever a song is played at home in a bar
or through a speaker system in a store or car.

I’m guessing that a song whatever a song is
is a private matter between a musician
and the universe of planets stars galaxies
although it’s fun for the rest of us to listen
before stars vanish as morning brings a mist in.

Some Musicians Disappear (A Post Script)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


On Being Unhappy (And Happy)


Fictional Characters Can Keep Trying

I Can’t Sleep In My Kitchen


Sheldrake: Orchestras To Planetary Systems


“The Fountainhead” Versus “The Phantom Of The Paradise”

The amazing actress/singer Jessica Harper
plays Janet Weiss in "Shock Treatment" and she also
appeared in another obscure but great film
"The Phantom of the Paradise"
playing Phoenix. She sings, "Old Souls"
and other cool songs in that one.

2012 Complete Index

December 2012


Monday, December 31, 2012 -- 2013 Complete Index

Monday, December 31, 2012 -- New Calendar And Pioneering Birds


Friday, December 28, 2012 -- Synthetic Monsters, Liminal Entities And Scripts

Thursday, December 27, 2012 -- Fictional Characters Can Keep Trying

Wednesday, December 26, 2012 -- Rocks Like Rocks Themselves

Tuesday, December 25, 2012 -- Christmas And Trees #2: Cézanne Trees

Monday, December 24, 2012 -- Christmas And Trees #1: Empty Lot Trees


Friday, December 21, 2012 -- Like Snow Around Dark Letters Like Grass

Thursday, December 20, 2012 -- One Full Moon Night In Montpelier Vermont

Wednesday, December 19, 2012 -- Song For A Dawn Chorus (And Breakfast)

Tuesday, December 18, 2012 -- The Angle Of Repose Of Department Store

Monday, December 17, 2012 -- The Secret Laboratory Of Immutable Laughter


Friday, December 14, 2012 -- Random Thoughts On This Bonfire Around Us

Thursday, December 13, 2012 -- Beethoven In The Camellia Rain

Wednesday, December 12, 2012 -- “Sudden Glimpses Of A Radiant World”

Tuesday, December 11, 2012 -- Pictures As A Place Where Distance Goes

Monday, December 10, 2012 -- The Metronome As A Place To Switch Off


Friday, December 7, 2012 -- The Root Landscape Of Impressionism

Thursday, December 6, 2012 -- Random Thoughts On Not Being Eaten

Wednesday, December 5, 2012 -- Lines Of Force Surrounding Joan Cusack

Tuesday, December 4, 2012 -- New Socks In The Overall Scheme Of Things

Monday, December 3, 2012 -- The Sugary Metaphysics Of Lost And Escape



November 2012


Friday, November 30, 2012 -- New Socks In Darkness And Light

Thursday, November 29, 2012 -- The New Soap Dish Post (And TV Painting)

Wednesday, November 28, 2012 -- Lights Above The Garden Shop

Tuesday, November 27, 2012 -- The Pigeons Inside My Head (Return To)

Monday, November 26, 2012 -- Five Parking Lots And I Wonder


Friday, November 23, 2012 -- Somewhere Between Chicago And Paris

Thursday, November 22, 2012 -- Professional Folk Singer As A Phobia

Wednesday, November 21, 2012 -- A Name, A Face, An Interesting Construction

Tuesday, November 20, 2012 -- Somewhere Between Atlantis And Los Angeles

Monday, November 19, 2012 -- Trivial Things As Doubleplusungood


Friday, November 16, 2012 -- The Thin Crescent Moon—A Postscript

Thursday, November 15, 2012 -- Old Ghosts Haunting A Garden Shop Moon

Wednesday, November 14, 2012 -- Gadget Temptation

Tuesday, November 13, 2012 -- The Other Uses Of Enchantment

Monday, November 12, 2012 -- On Having A Little Fever (And Stuff)


Friday, November 9, 2012 -- Business At The Garden’s Edge

Thursday, November 8, 2012 -- Beyond The Horizon From Here

Wednesday, November 7, 2012 -- The Call Of The Goblins

Tuesday, November 6, 2012 -- Mother And Daughter At The Writing Desk

Monday, November 5, 2012 -- What The Dinosaurs See


Friday, November 2, 2012 -- The Prettiest Ophelia Is An Asteroid

Thursday, November 1, 2012 -- Ode To A Louisiana Sinkhole



October 2012


Wednesday, October 31, 2012 -- A Story About Monsters For Halloween

Tuesday, October 30, 2012 -- Strange Energies Of The Twentieth Century

Monday, October 29, 2012 -- Real Things, Not Real Things And Other Things


Friday, October 26, 2012 -- But That’s How A Melville Metaphor Ends

Thursday, October 25, 2012 -- Plastic Snow? (A Saturn Update)

Wednesday, October 24, 2012 -- Birds Know About Wires

Tuesday, October 23, 2012 -- “Midnight Flowers”

Monday, October 22, 2012 -- On Stepping Into The Surround


Friday, October 19, 2012 -- Ophelia’s Songs

Thursday, October 18, 2012 -- Ophelia’s Flowers

Wednesday, October 17, 2012 -- Real And ‘Real’ Liminal Entities

Tuesday, October 16, 2012 -- The Dark Sidewalk In Daylight (Still Dark)

Monday, October 15, 2012 -- That Girl – In Which I Quote The Khmer Rouge


Friday, October 12, 2012 -- Lost In The Astrophysics

Thursday, October 11, 2012 -- Distance: Istanbul to Aleppo

Wednesday, October 10, 2012 -- Motion Beyond The Witch Point

Tuesday, October 9, 2012 -- Across South America Forever

Monday, October 8, 2012 -- Mindstorms And Music And One Smart Brick


Friday, October 5, 2012 -- A Consequence Of Puppets Revisited

Thursday, October 4, 2012 -- Romanticized Portraits

Wednesday, October 3, 2012 -- Tools For A Bridge Over A Canal On Mars

Tuesday, October 2, 2012 -- A Dream Woman’s Dream House On Long Island

Monday, October 1, 2012 -- The Louisiana Sinkhole: An Apocalypse Opera



September 2012


Sunday, September 30, 2012 - 2012 3rd Quarter Index


Friday, September 28, 2012 - Pumpkin Are Free (Reprise)

Thursday, September 27, 2012 - On-Set Injury Report: Lizard Down!

Wednesday, September 26, 2012 - Refuge, Sanctuary And Asylum As Synonyms

Tuesday, September 25, 2012 - The Real Lesson Of The Gargoyle Arrow

Monday, September 24, 2012 - Pumpkin Are Free


Friday, September 21, 2012 - Puddle Monsters: Terror In The Distance

Thursday, September 20, 2012 - The Sinkhole, The Supervillain, And The Plan

Wednesday, September 19, 2012 - Synthetic Arcadia And The Hole

Tuesday, September 18, 2012 - Orchestra By Piano Light

Monday, September 17, 2012 - In Louisiana The Bottom Fell Out Of A Swamp


Friday, September 14, 2012 - Jupiter Impact: A Postscript

Thursday, September 13, 2012 - Synthetic Hyperborea, Liminal Entities And Scripts...

Wednesday, September 12, 2012 - Steampunk: A Postscript

Tuesday, September 11, 2012 - Astrophysics Versus Steam-Punk Musicians

Monday, September 10, 2012 - A Piece Of Paper Above An Asteroid


Friday, September 7, 2012 - When The Light Is All Reflections

Thursday, September 6, 2012 - Two Donut Shops

Wednesday, September 5, 2012 - Weather (At The Fox Point)

Tuesday, September 4, 2012 - Weather (Or Not)

Monday, September 3, 2012 - Dinosaur Girls And The Night Behind Me



August 2012


Friday, August 31, 2012 - Solving A Mystery In The Dark (W/Photos)

Thursday, August 30, 2012 - Impossible Places: Guitars And Flutes

Wednesday, August 29, 2012 - A Quick Enceladus Note, And Other Stuff

Tuesday, August 28, 2012 - All The Issues Of Perspective

Monday, August 27, 2012 - Candy At The End Of The World


Friday, August 24, 2012 - The Occult Technology Of Guitars And Keyboards

Thursday, August 23, 2012 - Clouds Want To Be A Secret Book

Wednesday, August 22, 2012 - Memories Are White And Yellow Against Green

Tuesday, August 21, 2012 - Animals That Can Rip Apart Eternity

Monday, August 20, 2012 - Changing Something That Can’t Be Changed


Friday, August 17, 2012 - Indigo And Sepia: Sparrows In The Sun

Thursday, August 16, 2012 - A Universe Of Colors And Adding What We Can

Wednesday, August 15, 2012 - A Personal Tower Of Babel?

Tuesday, August 14, 2012 - Death, Dancing, Death-Wise For Real

Monday, August 13, 2012 - Sixteen Seductive Ounces


Friday, August 10, 2012 - Pretty Flowers With The Loch Ness Monster

Thursday, August 9, 2012 - This Makes Me Think Of “The Swan” Too

Wednesday, August 8, 2012 - A Telescope For Tartarus

Tuesday, August 7, 2012 - A Secret Book Of Dark Writings

Monday, August 6, 2012 - Magic, And Amy As Only A Memory


Friday, August 3, 2012 - The Loch Ness Monster Versus Pretty Flowers

Thursday, August 2, 2012 - The Fons Et Origo Of Lost Worlds

Wednesday, August 1, 2012 - Dead From Golgotha



July 2012


Tuesday, July 31, 2012 - Playing The Dawn (Or To The Dawn)

Monday, July 30, 2012 - The Many Faces Of Mary (Elizabeth Winstead)


Friday, July 27, 2012 - A Failed Post (And A Little Something Extra)

Thursday, July 26, 2012 - Tours Of Intimate Confusion

Wednesday, July 25, 2012 - “Did Lightning Hit This Tree?”

Tuesday, July 24, 2012 - Eccentricity: A Note On Yesterday’s Photo

Monday, July 23, 2012 - Almost Like The Mast Of A Sailboat


Friday, July 20, 2012 - Associative Editing Techniques

Thursday, July 19, 2012 - A Cool Kaossilator 2 Tip

Wednesday, July 18, 2012 - Pluto’s Fifth Moon Has No Name (Yet)

Tuesday, July 17, 2012 - They Throw Away Desks, Don’t They?

Monday, July 16, 2012 - Mystery Four Thousand Miles From France


Friday, July 13, 2012 - Praying Mantis In A Parking Lot

Thursday, July 12, 2012 - Watermelon Rain?

Wednesday, July 11, 2012 - Change: Sudden, Incomprehensible And Deadly

Tuesday, July 10, 2012 - Machines Of Rapacious Hate

Monday, July 9, 2012 - Iterations And Interruptions To World Domination


Friday, July 6, 2012 - Models Of Mind, And Grammar

Thursday, July 5, 2012 - Seven-Segment Displays

Wednesday, July 4, 2012 - A Spider-Man Note

Tuesday, July 3, 2012 - Lucy Thought It Was Just Odd Dreams

Monday, July 2, 2012 - “Underwear Distance Of Love” (Reprise)


Sunday, July 1, 2012 - 2012 2nd Quarter Index



June 2012


Friday, June 29, 2012 -- Two Women And Lightning Cat

Thursday, June 28, 2012 -- The Real Atlantis And French (Movie) Terror

Wednesday, June 27, 2012 -- Monsters—From Microsecond To Microsecond

Tuesday, June 26, 2012 -- The North Pole Or Someone’s Garden

Monday, June 25, 2012 -- “Indestructible And Ungraspable”


Friday, June 22, 2012 -- Looking Closely At An Old Tradition

Thursday, June 21, 2012 -- “People Born Illuminated”

Wednesday, June 20, 2012 -- A Consequence Of Puppets

Tuesday, June 19, 2012 -- Two Telescopes

Monday, June 18, 2012 -- Cracks In The Ruin As A Rune


Friday, June 15, 2012 -- A Squirrel And A Donut For Ever And Ever

Thursday, June 14, 2012 -- Day For Night: Nouveaux Oreillers

Wednesday, June 13, 2012 -- “If The World Should Stop Revolving”

Tuesday, June 12, 2012 -- Monsters Got My Pillows

Monday, June 11, 2012 -- If A Telescope Could See A Song


Friday, June 8, 2012 -- Soft Gadgets In Marigold Space

Thursday, June 7, 2012 -- I’ll Remember: The Flagon With The Dragon

Wednesday, June 6, 2012 -- Unstable Designs That Burn Up

Tuesday, June 5, 2012 -- On Songs For Watermelon Snows

Monday, June 4, 2012 -- “Naturally, In Interviews Of The Time”


Friday, June 1, 2012 -- Gadget-Nature: French Musicians As Landscape



May 2012


Thursday, May 31, 2012 -- Untold Stories About Stories Untold

Wednesday, May 30, 2012 -- The Transit Of Venus

Tuesday, May 29, 2012 -- Preliminary Notes For A Space Opera

Monday, May 28, 2012 -- On Picking Out A Piece Of The Sky


Friday, May 25, 2012 -- Friday In Paris Before It All Starts

Thursday, May 24, 2012 -- “I’m Against It”

Wednesday, May 23, 2012 -- Clouds Want To Be Close To Us

Tuesday, May 22, 2012 -- The Moon And Venus Beyond The Fox Point

Monday, May 21, 2012 -- Drawings Stay Flat Falling Into Reality


Friday, May 18, 2012 -- A Sail Away Thing

Thursday, May 17, 2012 -- Mandy Moore In Traffic

Wednesday, May 16, 2012 -- Machines Of Loving Grace

Tuesday, May 15, 2012 -- Forbidden Planet: An Introduction

Monday, May 14, 2012 -- Celebrity-Talk, And The Epistemology Of Hippie


Friday, May 11, 2012 -- On The Edges Of A Dawn Chorus

Thursday, May 10, 2012 -- Some People Believe Monsters Don’t Exist

Wednesday, May 9, 2012 -- Lost Images Of Lost Landscapes

Tuesday, May 8, 2012 -- It Shall Be So Madness Must Unwatched Go

Monday, May 7, 2012 -- Sophocles’ ‘Antigone’ Ends In Disaster


Friday, May 4, 2012 -- It’s A Photograph And This

Thursday, May 3, 2012 -- The Sign From Arby’s At Night In The Rain

Wednesday, May 2, 2012 -- Ephemera And Antiphony

Tuesday, May 1, 2012 -- If I Walk Through I Think



April 2012


Monday, April 30, 2012 -- Distorted By The Classical Mess


Friday, April 27, 2012 -- The Librarian Not In The Drawing

Thursday, April 26, 2012 -- The Moon Miranda (A Note)

Wednesday, April 25, 2012 -- A Process Of Passages

Tuesday, April 24, 2012 -- Prospero I Know At The End

Monday, April 23, 2012 -- Sweet Talking Rocks


Friday, April 20, 2012 -- Songs A Husband Heard

Thursday, April 19, 2012 -- To Make A Song To Sing About Walls

Wednesday, April 18, 2012 -- Miranda And Miranda And Miranda

Tuesday, April 17, 2012 -- Atlantis Blue: Afterward

Monday, April 16, 2012 -- “Sweet Judy Blue Dress” — Atlantis Blue


Friday, April 13, 2012 -- The Mad Scientist And The Dawn Chorus

Thursday, April 12, 2012 -- Everything Is Out Of Order

Wednesday, April 11, 2012 -- Remembering A Loch Ness Photo

Tuesday, April 10, 2012 -- Psychrophiles In Watermelon Snow

Monday, April 9, 2012 -- A Shattered Chessboard


Friday, April 6, 2012 -- Memory Studies As A Flourishing Field

Thursday, April 5, 2012 -- Waiting For Clouds

Wednesday, April 4, 2012 -- The Most Famous Bedroom In Art?

Tuesday, April 3, 2012 -- Waking Up (Not) Lost In Space

Monday, April 2, 2012 -- “S” Is For “Sparrow”


Sunday, April 1, 2012 -- 2012 1st Quarter Index



March 2012


Friday, March 30, 2012 -- Limits Of A Gadget: A Love Story

Thursday, March 29, 2012 -- This Space, Here

Wednesday, March 28, 2012 -- “Indiana Wants Me” (I Can’t Go Back There)

Tuesday, March 27, 2012 -- The Heroine’s Question (Or: Plot Epistemology)

Monday, March 26, 2012 -- The Torn Picture Of A Guitar


Saturday, March 24, 2012 -- Some Musicians Disappear (A Post Script)

Friday, March 23, 2012 -- Some Musicians Disappear

Thursday, March 22, 2012 -- Noises In The Darkness Like A Melody

Wednesday, March 21, 2012 -- The Orchestra As A Mythical Creature

Tuesday, March 20, 2012 -- Beautiful Shadows Of History

Monday, March 19, 2012 -- Beautiful Queen Of All The World’s Gadgets


Sunday, March 18, 2012 -- Bird Calls (A Sunday Post)

Friday, March 16, 2012 -- Pop Music: Woman As Reporter

Thursday, March 15, 2012 -- Big Clouds And Doing Electric Stuff

Wednesday, March 14, 2012 -- Is There A Shadow On My Bedroom Wall?

Tuesday, March 13, 2012 -- Ghosts Aren’t What They Used To Be

Monday, March 12, 2012 -- Merica Uns On Unkin


Friday, March 9, 2012 -- The Iceberg Addendum: Atlantis Iceberg

Friday, March 9, 2012 -- The Orchestra As Torture

Thursday, March 8, 2012 -- “Ah, That Renaissance Sunshine”

Wednesday, March 7, 2012 -- “The Hysterical Light Of Electricity”

Tuesday, March 6, 2012 -- Watercolors, Liminal Entities And Scripts

Monday, March 5, 2012 -- Memories Lost In The Canals Of Mars


Friday, March 2, 2012 -- The Scarf Would Be Like Dancing

Friday, March 2, 2012 -- British Women (Et Cetera)

Thursday, March 1, 2012 -- Scribbles, In G Major



February 2012


Wednesday, February 29, 2012 -- Some Keyboard Notes

Tuesday, February 28, 2012 -- Vanity Fair Magazine In A Book Store Café

Monday, February 27, 2012 -- Talk Outside The Donut Shop


Friday, February 24, 2012 -- Naming Things: Hippie Girls And Monsters

Thursday, February 23, 2012 -- She Asked, “Why Are You Looking...”

Wednesday, February 22, 2012 -- Notes From My Vampirella Expedition

Tuesday, February 21, 2012 -- “Britney To Razor Blades”

Monday, February 20, 2012 -- I Don’t Know If People Dancing Care


Friday, February 17, 2012 -- Serious Thoughts With The Lights Off And On

Thursday, February 16, 2012 -- More Night Than Just The Stars

Wednesday, February 15, 2012 -- The Question For Frankenstein’s Friend

Tuesday, February 14, 2012 -- Before And After ‘Nuts Do Hop’—A Valentine

Monday, February 13, 2012 -- Vicki Over Her Shoulder: A Sketch


Friday, February 10, 2012 -- Orson Welles And Miley Cyrus K-i-s-s-i-n-g

Thursday, February 9, 2012 -- Kimberly When Empires Crumble

Wednesday, February 8, 2012 -- Curious About A Curious Woman

Tuesday, February 7, 2012 -- A Playground In Which To Grow Strong

Monday, February 6, 2012 -- An Orchestra That Goes In And Out


Friday, February 3, 2012 -- Flutes In Space! Or: Landscape With Giant Moth

Thursday, February 2, 2012 -- Landscape With Tiny Dirigibles. Or Not.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012 -- The Night Outside My Window



January 2012


Tuesday, January 31, 2012 -- The Question Clarisse Asks Montag

Monday, January 30, 2012 -- A Mystery: Paintings Never Painted


Friday, January 27, 2012 -- Songs For Hippies Don’t Scare The Pigeons

Thursday, January 26, 2012 -- The Pigeon That Laughed At Hemingway

Wednesday, January 25, 2012 -- The Pigeon In Science And Romance

Tuesday, January 24, 2012 -- Synthetic Pigeons, Liminal Entities And Scripts

Monday, January 23, 2012 -- ‘A Pigeon On A Rock’ And Other Stories


Friday, January 20, 2012 -- Thinking About Arranging “Layla”

Thursday, January 19, 2012 -- Distracted By Suspicions Of A Harmony

Wednesday, January 18, 2012 -- The Name “Gillian”

Tuesday, January 17, 2012 -- A Note From The Synthetic Wilderness

Monday, January 16, 2012 -- Hen Politics, And Passages Between Worlds


Friday, January 13, 2012 -- Not A Premise Beyond Belief

Thursday, January 12, 2012 -- Candle Questions

Wednesday, January 11, 2012 -- “It Wasn’t A Temple But A School”

Tuesday, January 10, 2012 -- An Up-To-Date Vicki Inventory

Monday, January 9, 2012 -- Sun (And Moon) Over Scarborough Fair


Friday, January 6, 2012 -- Exotic Snows And An Ink Drawing Of Plants

Thursday, January 5, 2012 -- A Small Magnifying Glass On A Mirror

Wednesday, January 4, 2012 -- Song Birds And Bird Songs And Songs

Tuesday, January 3, 2012 -- The Dragon With The Girl Tattoo

Monday, January 2, 2012 -- Two Dragons


Sunday, January 1, 2012 -- 2011 Complete Index

New Calendar And Pioneering Birds

I got a new calendar over the weekend. Last week I posted about last year’s calendar.

This year instead of shopping around here and picking from the local selection I went to Amazon and searched for “bird calendars.” I found this one from the Audubon Society. It only cost a couple dollars more than the low-quality things I find locally but it is very well made with heavy paper stock.

And instead of one bird per month, there is one feature bird per month along with interesting facts on why that bird is featured and then almost every day of every month gets its own bird photograph.

Very cool stuff.

The featured bird for January 2013 is the Northern Cardinal.

The interesting fact about Cardinals is—I didn’t know this at all—prior to the 20th century the Cardinal was primarily a southern bird. As winters have gradually moderated, and more people have put out bird feeders and winter-fruiting bushes and shrubs, the National Audubon Society has found that the majority of species in their Bird Counts have been shifting the center of their ranges farther north.

And Cardinals were one of the first birds to begin the adjustment to the northern states.

Cardinals—pioneer birds.

*

This was a strange weekend and I didn’t do much of anything I planned on doing, but I did get a lot done. I’m hoping over the start of the new year to get to post here about some of the things I did over the weekend but only time will tell.

One of the things I did—sort of on the topic of pioneers prior to the 20th century—was to write three jokes. There’s a connection here in a convoluted way to these old posts.

When The Night Shapes Itself

Clouds Drift As If They’re Listening

You And Me, I Mean, Mare Carminum

There will be more about this kind of stuff later, but I’m really moving very slowly on a bunch of projects that I had hoped to move quickly on. Still, slow is better than no movement at all.

Three Jokes
A Nineteenth Century Comedian
Might Tell

We took the train out here from California. All the way through the western territories a kid behind me was kicking the back of my seat. Finally I turned around and said to the mother, “Lady, can we hold the tap dancing until we get to the Catskills?”

How about those railroad peanuts? I said to the conductor, “Are these peanuts, or are these the bullets the Indians were shooting at us all through Navajo country?”

Have your kids gone crazy over this new technology thing they’ve got? Now they’ve got telegraph offices everywhere. Let me tell you, my daughter is going crazy, every day she’s sending telegrams to her friends all over the country. I said, “Sweetheart, have you seen the Western Union bill? They charge by the word!” She said, “Dad, you get paid by the joke. Just tell more jokes!”

Synthetic Monsters, Liminal Entities And Scripts

Modern pianos have eighty-eight keys.

Many modern synthesizers do too.

Musicians almost always use two hands
on an instrument with eighty-eight keys.

But a musician can use only one.

Nothing stops a musician from using
only one finger to play a keyboard.

Nothing stops a musician from using
only one finger to play a keyboard
but nonetheless most musicians use more.

Maybe something does stop a musician
from playing a keyboard with one finger.

Last night I wanted to record a song
but I was in a hurry so I played
only the melody with my right hand
and I didn’t play chords with my left hand.

I used all five fingers of my right hand
but I’m not as practiced yet with two hands
as somebody who’s played keyboards for years
so I concentrated on just one hand
and recorded sixteen bars my first take
with every pitch and time value correct.

My synthesizer synthesized flute sounds
with both attack and breath variations
so the melody without a chord part
still sounded something like magic to me
even though I made up the melody
and even though I played it with one hand.

Listening to the recording I thought:

If I was listening to a real flute
I wouldn’t miss a chordal foundation
but my memory of playing the song
for some reason is about my left hand
and all those other keys I didn’t play.

Nothing stops a musician from using
only one finger to play a keyboard
but something does. Nothing can be something.

If nothing can be something I wonder
if nothing can be something like monsters
and defeating monsters is something like
making something like magic when we think
there’s something between us and the magic
when really there is nothing there at all.

I have that song I recorded last night
and I remind myself that’s a real thing.

But what if I hadn’t played it because
of something about all those other keys?

It’s hard sometimes just reaching out one hand.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


Exerting Agency, Liminal Entities And Scripts

Synthetic Philosophy, Liminal Entities And Scripts

Synthetic Pigeons, Liminal Entities And Scripts

Watercolors, Liminal Entities And Scripts

Synthetic Hyperborea, Liminal Entities And Scripts

Real And ‘Real’ Liminal Entities