2008

so, another year gone with nary a yelp.

perhaps i'm just in a weird headspace, but, with my advanced years, it feels as though time is accelerating while my productive output is decreasing.

'course, we could talk at length about my productive output and whether or not that's a misnomer for my periodic and circuitous meanderings.

what up, y'all?

really, what's been going on with you?
...
uh huh?
.......
that's kinda cool, but didn't it hurt?
...
ha! you're pulling my leg!
.....
oh. sorry. it just sounded like a bizarre plot from some crazed tv show.
.........
yeah, that's why i apologized.
....
what the fuck?! i said i was sorry!
......
whatever, man.
...
dude, that's fucked up. i'm outta here.
..
fuck you.

'take your pleasure seriously.'

- charles eames

'the more you live a certain way, the less it feels like freedom.'

- bob dylan

two words:

white. devil.

put those two words together.

roll it, pack it, prep it however you want.

once that appropriately reverent preparation has been completed, put the vessel of choice to your eagerly awaiting lips, light that earthy, pungent bud, close your eyes and...

yes, my friends, take the deepest breath of your life. inhale like you're about to dive to the ocean's depths.

and hold it.

just when your lungs are bursting, screaming for air, exhale.

then sit back and smile.

hope you have some chill tunes a-playing. i've got alva noto and ryuichi sakamoto caressing my mind's ear with minimal, experimental electronics interspersed with some hypnotic piano playing.

yes, lady and gent, this is heaven.

thanks, white devil...

betwixt my sheets...

clearly, that's the number one answer to the question: where the fuck have you been hiding?

yes, dearest of my dear friends, i've been hiding betwixt my sheets...

what a year! i can't believe summer's coming to an end. god, what they've (you know, the 'they' that says anything worthwhile) been saying is oh so true: the older you get, the faster it goes...

what've i been up to? the usual: books, movies, music, loves (of course, i'm romanticizing some less than stellar liaisons; some downright tawdry! now i'm minimizing. okay, there were great and lesser loves. let's leave it at that) gained and lost, new job, new bong, new ipod (yeah, i was almost mugged back in april - cute story: on the train, some hood dude'n a gun, the first fight of my life later, the dude's running from me. yeah, also my first psychotic break.)

new job: no more homeless. that's all that needs to be said.

so, what's your story? what have you been up to?

comatose, but not dead...

no, i'm not dead.

'inappropriate behavior makes me laugh.'

- will ferrell

my itunes says:

as with new year's resolutions we have no intention of completing, top ten lists have sprouted 'cross our media universe over the last week or so with no respite expected for the next month.

it's in the midst of this crass display of public self-indulgence i ask myself the question: why not mine?

so, with no apologies, disclaimers, and other ways of dodging responsibility, i give you my 2007 top ten albums played by my 'pod (as determined by the play count):

10. not saying just saying - shout out out out out
9. horn of plenty - grizzly bear
8. yellow house - grizzly bear
7. endless summer - fennesz
6. harmony in ultraviolet - tim hecker
5. the night - morphine
4. sound chambers - ehlers/hautzinger/suchy
3. recordings 1994-1997 - space needle
2. so tonight that i might see - mazzy star
1. musique pour 3 femmes enceintes - marc leClair (akufen)

uh huh.

that's it.

this episode sponsored by a very tasty white widow...

all men are mortal

so, it took a while, but i've finally finished simone de beauvoir's book.

all men are mortal.

a great existentialist in her own right, this book rivals the best of camus and satre, but from quite a different slant. whereas my periodic forays into existentialist fiction over the years have exposed me to protagonists that aim to derive meaning in the face of meaninglessness in their environment - whether family, occupation, society, or tragedy - beauvoir presents us with a narrator whose ill-accepted immortality embodies meaninglessness itself. she uses this device to show how the the secondary characters create meaning precisely because of their limited lifespan.

it's a fascinating, but extraordinarily depressing read!

anyway, my intention isn't to do a book review, but rather to compare some themes with a milan kundera book i read several weeks ago - entitled 'immortality', interestingly enough.

i had posted a quote from kundera contrasting paths to highways as analogues to ways of living one's life. highways lead us from one point to another, from one goal to another, not really allowing us to experience the joy in the moment. paths are made for us to, ah, meander. "a path is a tribute to space. every stretch of path has meaning in itself and invites us to stop."

now from beauvoir by way of a peripheral character, garnier, regarding inertia in the face of eternity: "we don't have to count on the future to give meaning to our acts. if that were the case, all action would be impossible."

it's in the present that we create meaning for our lives. if one is always looking towards the future, driving down that highway at full fucking speed, usually to the next societally dictated destination, we miss out on daily meaning and happiness.

it seems evident that beauvoir's goal in using immortality as the guiding gimmick was to portray the ultimate meaninglessness of grand schemes, plots, and designs. all of our petty ambitions, all desires to leave our legacy or mark on the world are for naught. with death, our ambitions die with us. kundera makes a point that our immortality can last for a generation or two, depending on our fame and the memory of us in others. beauvoir's response is to show her immortal man, fosca, eventually forgetting everyone because, eventually, everyone is forgettable.

one last quote from fosca before i go:

"now i understand them. it's never what they receive that has value in their eyes, it's what they do. if they can't create, they must destroy. but in any case, they have to rebel against what is, otherwise they wouldn't be men."

it all comes back to that, doesn't it? we have to create meaning for ourselves, in our lives. no one can dictate what sparks that fire within. we are our own gods, to create or destroy as we wish...

merry christmas, y'all.

"make me love you and know that you alone exist among all other women. then the world will fall back into shape. there will be tears, smiles, expectations, fears. i'll be a living man again."

- fosca in simone de beauvoir's "all men are mortal"

health

dudes, i am loving health!

i'm listening to their self-titled debut with a little help from some new bud - orange krush. for the first song and a half i thought i was listening to the new liars i'd picked up several weeks ago. the tribal drumming and the monotone vocal stylings are strongly reminiscent of the liars, although more their second-to-last album, drum's not dead, than their recent release. it was the other elements, like the deerhunter-esque guitar work, the droning electronics and even classic 80s hip-hop drum programming (track 9!), that motivated some movement off the couch to check out what was playing in the system.

and it was health!

i'll let pitchfork describe what i lack the energy to:

"sprinting through eleven tracks of orchestrated chaos in a breathless half-hour, health mixes the bombastic pound of boredoms, the skewed structures of deerhoof, the tribal thump of liars, and even the synth squirts of black dice and excepter."

to the last one, all bands i've seen and loved in the last year! but what an inspired mix of genres! boredoms - japanese psych-rock, deerhoof - experimental indie rock, liars - experimental indie heavy on percussion, and black dice and excepter - kings of the electro-acoustic noise scene. with the exception of boredoms, all the groups hail from brooklyn. so you think health was just sucking in all the local influences? nah, health's from l.a.

anyway, check it out. interesting, percussive, and engaging.

gotta go - cd just switched to sightings.

also some awesome shit, dudes...

devendra banhart

i just received my current issue of signal to noise (it's a journal of improvised and experimental music) and as i'm reading through the feature articles, i come across the cover story on devandra banhart.

i've been hearing banhart's name for the last year or so around nyc's music scene and know he's performed at a few of the indie rock venues around town. although he decries the label in the article, most reviewers and critics have slapped the 'freak-folk' descriptor on the music he and his bandmates produce. can't say it's really my thing - the focus is more on vocals/lyrics over experimental instrumentation.

anyway, the article ends with a quote from banhart that encapsulates the trip i've been on for the last several years.

"it's very strange but we have to be compassionate to our younger selves. i think that's why i'm so attracted to native american poetry and writing, which teaches us to walk with compassion. and i suppose it's why i'm interested in hindu spirituality because it preaches that love, happiness and compassion should not be dependent on anything but you. people say they're happy because they have kids or a certain job but it shouldn't be because of anything it should just be because."

yeah, he gets it. not that we should avoid the procreative urge (well, i am) or occupational ambition (i guess i'm kinda doing that, too), but rather that we should be extremely wary of establishing our happiness or fulfillment on these external factors. as supplements to our inner light, sure - although the zen buddhists discourage any involvement as the external world is the source of all suffering - but never as the sole basis for our happiness.

not being artistically inclined in any obvious way, i've always envied those that possess and exercise the creative ability. i believe that one maximizes their happiness by being their own creator, by recognizing the god within. it's this internal recognition that binds us to the infinite creative processes in our world and universe. i feel it's this bonding that produces the feeling of transcendence, of feeling a part of something much larger and infinite than ourselves.

that's one of the reasons i love participatory music - its ambiguity requires idiosyncratic interpretation to evoke meaning. the interpretive process is wholly unique and, therefore, a form of creation. sure, it's not necessarily something i can share with others, but it allows me a moment to experience something larger than myself. it's transcendental. and it makes me happy!

well, that was a bit of a ramble.

so, i might not be into banhart's music, but i can understand his sentiments regarding the nature of happiness and his motivation to create.

not much to chuckle at there, folks. it's that kind of day - cold, snowy, overcast, but beautiful and solemn.

enjoy it...

i'm riding a cab uptown...

yeah, that's what i'm doing.

right now.

is it blowing your mind?

just giving a shout out, complements of the juicy...