../melody in chaos
I always say “wordless” instead of ambient when I describe my instrumental interstellar flights (even stuff w/ abstracted dialogue). But now, after all these years, I wonder, is ambient music actually wordless?
That is to say, is a melody a form of lyric?
In an unrelated performance story:
My biggest performance fear is to be cringe.…
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Rainy NYC Saturday weekly post that skipped a week. This set’s theme: Feeling 6 decades time in 6 days, in the good way.
:^D
People Under The Stairs “O.S.T.” (2002) was Thes One and Double K’s 3rd release, & one of my fav 2000s spins in any style. Over a master class in sampling, a surgical economy of rhyme here creates negative space that also flows.…
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This Terminal command to disable MacOS’s default “low-priority throttle” has been indispensible while backing up with Time Machine of late:
sudo sysctl debug.lowpri_throttle_enabled=0
Leaving it on (“=1”) shunts the backup to the last in line for the CPU no matter what. My backup process, however, is a VIP club goer.
Would that I could control, with one simple line of code, the throttle on my darkest thoughts.…
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tr: Because nothing is yellow, everything is green.
haha, at least everything’s not blue…
The idea that alien life forms would conform to our dimensional perspectives and physics, and yet still leave themselves vulnerable to human weapons and hate, is naive.
…“An Earthland vacation this light-year? Really?”
“I heard it’s pretty, and I always wanted to go.”
“Okay, but just remember to bring ‘sion-block-“
“Yes, I packed ‘sion-block!”
As a puppy, Luna created her own game called lunaball. 3+ years on, she continues to refine and perfect her championship form.
The rules of lunaball are opaque, but the core challenge is to kick around a big ball while keeping a small ball in your mouth.
A few of the things you have fine-tuned control over in life:
How clean your home is
How made your bed is
How tired your dog is
Whether or not your passport is current and active
All of this adds up, really, to the one and only thing you have control over:
How you react to chaos.…
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the trick is to get paid for just being you
to “turn a trick” is to be paid to be someone else’s “you”
adopting war terminology for sports (“bomb,” “shotgun,” “blitz,” “strikers,” “defense,” “offence,” “flanks,” “attack,” “sacking,” etc) turned war into sports
Now, those not fighting are said to be “on the sidelines.”…
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There’s no such thing as “living a lie.” You live your truth and only your truth, and enjoy or suffer the fallout, whatever your truth creates.
The phrase isn’t, “you’re living your lie.” It’s, “you’re living a lie.”
At the very least, if it was your lie, you’d have some agency
If there are lives “lived in lies,” then life itself is devalued
The “problem” today lol isn’t that everywhere there’s lies.…
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“The weirdest,” Luna piped up at the midpoint of our daily walk, “is how everyone now is so savvy yet so powerless.”
I absorbed the thought. “Ignorance is bliss, Kid, indeed.”
Prospect Park, NYC / 20220304.1437
That Old Guitar on That Old Guitar
Uncle, a 1934 Gibson L-1 flat-top acoustic, came to me via my wife Cat’s father, Steve, a stellar pianist and big band leader in Chicago. Cat’s great Uncle Ernest, Uncle’s original owner, bequeathed the guitar to Steve.
Cat & I found Uncle (in his original case) in Steve’s basement on a trip to her Chicago home.…
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“Garçon!” Luna clapped. “Garçon!”
“Me?” I asked.
“Do you see any other waiters here?”
“No.”
“Well then. This La Boutanche Gamay is NOT at cellar temperature.”
“May I offer you a free snausage?”
“Sure. But I won’t forget this egregious oenophillic infraction!”
“Right away, Madam.”
May 06, 2020 at 05:36PM
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under the cold and darkly sky / you trip the light and go…
the cars were my fav band growing up. in my high-wire suburban teenage days, their records and lateral solo projects not only were desert island discs, they were my desert island.
the band (driven by ric ocasek’s all-lowercase, overdriven-jangle, and quirky-jerk writing) catalysed my adolescent desire and urgency to learn guitar and to write songs.…
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“It’s weirdo,” Luna fronted.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“You’re Westy.”
“Yeah?”
“And I’m a Westie.”
“Yeah?”
“That’s like if you’re Fern and your one plant is a fern.”
“First, I was Westy way before you got here. Also, they’re not even spelled the same.”
“Excuses, excuses. Still weirdo.”
September 28, 2019 at 10:42AM
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“I thought they outlawed plastic straws here,” Luna averred.
“Those aren’t straws,” I said. “They’re PVC gas mains.”
“That’s a straw!” she shot back in her best Daniel Plainview voice, with loud slurps. “I. Drink. Your! Milkshake! I DRINK IT UP!”
“When did you-”
“I will eat you!”
September 24, 2019 at 06:14PM
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So look see the days / The endless coloured ways / And go play the game that you learnt / From the morning. [Nick Drake]
September 18, 2019 at 12:49PM
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“Look at it!” Luna wailed. “Is there any context left where human waste is out of context?!”
“That’s deep, Kid.”
“Eventually there’ll just be a tiny Pacific Ocean Patch somewhere in The Pacific Waterfill!”
I sighed. “Aren’t you supposed to fetch sticks or something?”
September 10, 2019 at 05:54PM
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