You're gonna dig this.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Monday, January 24, 2005
Nazis. I hate those guys.
It's the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz and here in central Europe, feelings are running very high. There's a thoughtful commentary in the Times on the recent scandalous walk-out by Saxon members of the National Party of Germany (NPD) during a moment of silence for the victims of the Holocaust.
There's no denying that Dresden was a bloodbath and that many innocent people lost their lives. I can't do the whole moral equivalency thing where you equate the bombing of Dresden with the millions of lost lives in Europe, Jewish and otherwise. They're all lost lives, ruined by Nazism.
What sticks in my throat and infuriates me nearly beyond words is the blantant racism and sheer stupid insensivity of the NPD. I'm pretty sure no one stopping the NPD - or anyone else for that matter - from commemorating the bombing of Dresden. Hell, we all learned about Dresden in history class and I don't remember being taught that it was an event that glorified the allies and downplayed the loss of human lives. It was a firebombing. There was death and destruction everywhere. Yet the SPD can't acknowledge that Auschwitz, too, was a tragedy beyond description.
Neo-Nazism is on the rise in former Eastern Germany. In Saxony, the SPD got just over 9 percent of the vote. You could conclude that one in ten people you'd meet when walking the streets of modern Dresden supports the SPDs racist platform. This is terrifying. Combine this with the rhetoric coming out of Iran these days about the Zionist agenda (thank you Dick Cheney) and you end up with the world looking pretty scarey for this latke eating member of the tribe.
There's no denying that Dresden was a bloodbath and that many innocent people lost their lives. I can't do the whole moral equivalency thing where you equate the bombing of Dresden with the millions of lost lives in Europe, Jewish and otherwise. They're all lost lives, ruined by Nazism.
What sticks in my throat and infuriates me nearly beyond words is the blantant racism and sheer stupid insensivity of the NPD. I'm pretty sure no one stopping the NPD - or anyone else for that matter - from commemorating the bombing of Dresden. Hell, we all learned about Dresden in history class and I don't remember being taught that it was an event that glorified the allies and downplayed the loss of human lives. It was a firebombing. There was death and destruction everywhere. Yet the SPD can't acknowledge that Auschwitz, too, was a tragedy beyond description.
Neo-Nazism is on the rise in former Eastern Germany. In Saxony, the SPD got just over 9 percent of the vote. You could conclude that one in ten people you'd meet when walking the streets of modern Dresden supports the SPDs racist platform. This is terrifying. Combine this with the rhetoric coming out of Iran these days about the Zionist agenda (thank you Dick Cheney) and you end up with the world looking pretty scarey for this latke eating member of the tribe.
Friday, January 21, 2005
W.W.Chuck Klosterman.D?
I felt both a little bit spanked and intrigued when I read this in Esquire, excerpted below. An interesting counter to some of my feelings of late about the election, swearing in, etc.
Do you want to be happy? I suspect that you do. Well, here's the first step to happiness: Don't get pissed off that people who aren't you happen to think Paris Hilton is interesting and deserves to be on TV every other day; the fame surrounding Paris Hilton is not a reflection on your life (unless you want it to be). Don't get pissed off because the Yeah Yeah Yeahs aren't on the radio enough; you can buy the goddamn record and play "Maps" all goddamn day (if that's what you want). Don't get pissed off because people didn't vote the way you voted. You knew that the country was polarized, and you knew that half of America is more upset by gay people getting married than it is about starting a war under false pretenses. You always knew that many Americans worry more about God than they worry about the economy, and you always knew those same Americans assume you're insane for feeling otherwise (just as you find them insane for supporting a theocracy). You knew this was a democracy when you agreed to participate, so you knew this was how things might work out. So don't get pissed off over the fact that the way you feel about culture isn't some kind of universal consensus. Because if you do, you will end up feeling betrayed. And it will be your own fault. You will feel bad, and you will deserve it.
Now, it's quite possible you disagree with me on this issue. And if you do, I know what your argument is: You're thinking, But I'm idealistic. This is what people who want to inflict their values on other people always think; they think that there is some kind of romantic, respectable aura that insulates the inflexible, and that their disappointment with culture proves that they're trapped by their own intellect and good taste. Somehow they think their sense of betrayal gives them integrity. It does not. If you really have integrity—if you truly live by your ideals, and those ideals dictate how you engage with the world at large—you will never feel betrayed by culture. You will simply enjoy culture more. You won't necessarily start watching syndicated episodes of Everybody Loves Raymond , but you will find it interesting that certain people do. You won't suddenly agree that Amelie was a more emotive movie than Friday Night Lights , but you won't feel alienated and offended if every film critic you read tells you that it is. You will care, but you won't care.
You're not wrong, but neither is the rest of the world. And you need to accept that those two things aren't really connected.
Insightful or just bullying?
Do you want to be happy? I suspect that you do. Well, here's the first step to happiness: Don't get pissed off that people who aren't you happen to think Paris Hilton is interesting and deserves to be on TV every other day; the fame surrounding Paris Hilton is not a reflection on your life (unless you want it to be). Don't get pissed off because the Yeah Yeah Yeahs aren't on the radio enough; you can buy the goddamn record and play "Maps" all goddamn day (if that's what you want). Don't get pissed off because people didn't vote the way you voted. You knew that the country was polarized, and you knew that half of America is more upset by gay people getting married than it is about starting a war under false pretenses. You always knew that many Americans worry more about God than they worry about the economy, and you always knew those same Americans assume you're insane for feeling otherwise (just as you find them insane for supporting a theocracy). You knew this was a democracy when you agreed to participate, so you knew this was how things might work out. So don't get pissed off over the fact that the way you feel about culture isn't some kind of universal consensus. Because if you do, you will end up feeling betrayed. And it will be your own fault. You will feel bad, and you will deserve it.
Now, it's quite possible you disagree with me on this issue. And if you do, I know what your argument is: You're thinking, But I'm idealistic. This is what people who want to inflict their values on other people always think; they think that there is some kind of romantic, respectable aura that insulates the inflexible, and that their disappointment with culture proves that they're trapped by their own intellect and good taste. Somehow they think their sense of betrayal gives them integrity. It does not. If you really have integrity—if you truly live by your ideals, and those ideals dictate how you engage with the world at large—you will never feel betrayed by culture. You will simply enjoy culture more. You won't necessarily start watching syndicated episodes of Everybody Loves Raymond , but you will find it interesting that certain people do. You won't suddenly agree that Amelie was a more emotive movie than Friday Night Lights , but you won't feel alienated and offended if every film critic you read tells you that it is. You will care, but you won't care.
You're not wrong, but neither is the rest of the world. And you need to accept that those two things aren't really connected.
Insightful or just bullying?
Red State sounds, international beats
Yesterday I went looking for CDs at the public library. In most public libraries, the approach to the collection seems based on what is inexpensive, more so than what would be good for the collection. This means that you might or not be able to find, say, some Duke Ellington. But you can probably find The Nylons.
I checked out STRICTLY THE BEST 19 which is a reggae collection, similar to those NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL MUSIC collections I see in stores and on TV. There's some good stuff and some peculiar stuff...I'm particularly fond of "Big Man, Little Youth" by Red Rat and Goofy. The whole song is two guys going back and forth about how a woman really prefers him, one because he is a big muscle guy, the other because he's skinny and cute.
However, the strangest is "Bush Wacked" by Josey Wales. The songs on here are all copyright 1997 so it's safe to think that it isn't about W. The song is a country and western song. It's not a bad fake-country song either. Growing up in East Tennessee I remember learning that hillbilly recordings by The Carter Family were played on radio stations whose signals reached Jamaica, therefore 1920s country music had an influence on Jamaican music.
I don't know enough about music to vouch for that. "Bush Wacked", however, is not influenced by country, it is country. Or at least it is country as much as Jimmy Buffet truly is calypso or whatever.
Every once in a while David Byrne or Paul Simon or Sting or (fill in your own list here) record something influenced by a non-North American culture. These don't get fully absorbed into the culture, they are novelty songs even if some of them are especially thoughtful novelty songs.
Somehow it hadn't occurred to me that this could happen in reverse. "Bush Wacked" is every bit as good a country song as Paul Simon's "Mother and Child Reunion" is a good reggae song.
As a white, American, guy I tend to forget that my culture isn't the main dish of the world. Sometimes my main dish is someone else's condiment.
I checked out STRICTLY THE BEST 19 which is a reggae collection, similar to those NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL MUSIC collections I see in stores and on TV. There's some good stuff and some peculiar stuff...I'm particularly fond of "Big Man, Little Youth" by Red Rat and Goofy. The whole song is two guys going back and forth about how a woman really prefers him, one because he is a big muscle guy, the other because he's skinny and cute.
However, the strangest is "Bush Wacked" by Josey Wales. The songs on here are all copyright 1997 so it's safe to think that it isn't about W. The song is a country and western song. It's not a bad fake-country song either. Growing up in East Tennessee I remember learning that hillbilly recordings by The Carter Family were played on radio stations whose signals reached Jamaica, therefore 1920s country music had an influence on Jamaican music.
I don't know enough about music to vouch for that. "Bush Wacked", however, is not influenced by country, it is country. Or at least it is country as much as Jimmy Buffet truly is calypso or whatever.
Every once in a while David Byrne or Paul Simon or Sting or (fill in your own list here) record something influenced by a non-North American culture. These don't get fully absorbed into the culture, they are novelty songs even if some of them are especially thoughtful novelty songs.
Somehow it hadn't occurred to me that this could happen in reverse. "Bush Wacked" is every bit as good a country song as Paul Simon's "Mother and Child Reunion" is a good reggae song.
As a white, American, guy I tend to forget that my culture isn't the main dish of the world. Sometimes my main dish is someone else's condiment.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
A House Divided
Now is a really good time to write to the president and remind him why you didn't vote for him. No, I mean right NOW. I'm just sayin, is all.
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
What to do [the 2005 edition]
I recently loaded up a list of goals to a site that posts & lets you track your success, failure & the final value of accomplishment. The site is called 43 Things and is geek heavy (check out their zietgeist page if you think I'm fooling. Ex. #5, Learn Ruby [that's code folks, the latest code]). My goals are under the user name benne and are in no particular order.
The way I structure my goals has changed somewhat over the years. I didn't really start making goals until I was 22, late to the game I know, but prior to that I couldn't shake the idea that all I should focus on was the next thing. When I first started trying to figure out what engaged me, I had a template that I could fill in. It was like an excel sheet, with timelines on the top row & the intended group that the goals would affect, like this:
click for the whole picture.
Pretty heady stuff, plenty of options inside of those boxes. I enjoyed the fact that years after I made the goals from that first try, I had accomplished a lot of what I had set out to do (still working on that dynamic world peace for the next 100 years thing). Anyway, I'm hooked on the idea of charting a course for myself - but have largely abandoned the exercise of reminding myself that what I do has an effect on the world around me. That part I get.
The way I structure my goals has changed somewhat over the years. I didn't really start making goals until I was 22, late to the game I know, but prior to that I couldn't shake the idea that all I should focus on was the next thing. When I first started trying to figure out what engaged me, I had a template that I could fill in. It was like an excel sheet, with timelines on the top row & the intended group that the goals would affect, like this:
click for the whole picture.
Pretty heady stuff, plenty of options inside of those boxes. I enjoyed the fact that years after I made the goals from that first try, I had accomplished a lot of what I had set out to do (still working on that dynamic world peace for the next 100 years thing). Anyway, I'm hooked on the idea of charting a course for myself - but have largely abandoned the exercise of reminding myself that what I do has an effect on the world around me. That part I get.
Dune tunes
Hey kids. I have yet to meet a few of you though I say hello to all. Here's to meeting all of you someday. Well, as long as you're good folk. No more room for poopy people in this life, okay?
I was aurally introduced to a Albert Ayler a few days ago and have been pondering the effect this music has been having on me. I picture a vast open area out beyond ideas that is covered with sand dunes. I like to coat those dunes in my mind with a good dose of magic light and throw in a backdrop of a deep blue sky with just enough clouds for interest. This has been the the ironic land of peace where I have supplanted myself since hearing the music of Albert Ayler.
The music requires nearly all of my available energy to listen to. When I dedicate less of my attention I get upset with the music and imagine myself never listening to it again. Think of William Parker + Steve Reich, John Coltrane (during his period of modal exploration) + John Adams (who wrote Short Ride in a Fast Machine), or John Cage + Eminem.
Albert Ayler has enabled me to open myself to the vast open space of existence, as in the sand dune analogy, while grounding me in the fablulous world of all I am. Simply put, I am human. With that, I know that being a human also includes this vast open space called the imagination, where wonderful new things are born. Albert Ayler takes us into a world of imagination, yet demostrates the power focus can have on the experience.
Think about trying to meditate for the very first time with the breathing techniques common in Buddhism. At first, there is much going on in the mind and the practice is far from relaxing. Then you focus on one thing, breathing, in order to open up all other space in the mind. This is the approach Ayler seems to have in his music.
Interestingly enough, Ayler has an album titled "Music Is the Healing Force of the Universe." I'd recommend some of his other albums prior, but check out whatever you can.
See you on the dunes.
I was aurally introduced to a Albert Ayler a few days ago and have been pondering the effect this music has been having on me. I picture a vast open area out beyond ideas that is covered with sand dunes. I like to coat those dunes in my mind with a good dose of magic light and throw in a backdrop of a deep blue sky with just enough clouds for interest. This has been the the ironic land of peace where I have supplanted myself since hearing the music of Albert Ayler.
The music requires nearly all of my available energy to listen to. When I dedicate less of my attention I get upset with the music and imagine myself never listening to it again. Think of William Parker + Steve Reich, John Coltrane (during his period of modal exploration) + John Adams (who wrote Short Ride in a Fast Machine), or John Cage + Eminem.
Albert Ayler has enabled me to open myself to the vast open space of existence, as in the sand dune analogy, while grounding me in the fablulous world of all I am. Simply put, I am human. With that, I know that being a human also includes this vast open space called the imagination, where wonderful new things are born. Albert Ayler takes us into a world of imagination, yet demostrates the power focus can have on the experience.
Think about trying to meditate for the very first time with the breathing techniques common in Buddhism. At first, there is much going on in the mind and the practice is far from relaxing. Then you focus on one thing, breathing, in order to open up all other space in the mind. This is the approach Ayler seems to have in his music.
Interestingly enough, Ayler has an album titled "Music Is the Healing Force of the Universe." I'd recommend some of his other albums prior, but check out whatever you can.
See you on the dunes.
Math is hard
I made an idiot of myself on the internet yesterday. Okay, it's not like it's the first time someone has been an idiot on the internet and it certainly won't be the last, but I claimed something was basic math without actually paying attention to the, um, basic math. Homer said it best: Doh.
Math has always been really hard for me. I say that not in a whiney "Math is hard." voice, but in a "Damn, I just don't GET it." tone. I flunked geometry the first time and both algebra and chemistry found me totally flustered. It's like I'm the math equivelant of color blind. I opted out of the sciences early on, even though I'm fascinated with the natural world, because I couldn't do the math.
For this sorry state of affairs I blame two people. First on the list: my 7th grade geometry teacher. This pale woman with fuzzy blonde hair would stand in front of the classroom openly yawning during her geometry lectures. Under the yellowish glow of the flourescents, she failed to enlighten me one bit about the mysteries of Pythagoras or how to find a hypontenous. Meanwhile, I dozed open-eyed at my desk, wondering whether my teacher had turned transparent, so seemingly absent was she. And this was before the pot-smoking days.
The other person I blame is, naturally, my dad. My dad was a math teacher for much of his life before he became a technical professional, and lately, he's been teaching math again. I think, in retrospect, it must have driven him completely wild that I could not for the life of me get what "x" was. Nor did I care. Numbers, which were his bread and butter, totally bored me. When he tried to tutor me through algebra, it was cold war for the entire term.
I don't think I need therapy to get over my math trauma, after all, I'm a fairly highly functioning adult. (Okay, I get that there's such a thing as denial.) I do, sometimes wish I saw the pattern, though, that I cared what "x" is, that I could make my brain pay attention to the most simple of math problems. I wouldn't mind making myself out to be just slightly less of an idiot than every other idiot on the Web. If you're an idiot on the internet once, you're an idiot forever. It's simple math.
Math has always been really hard for me. I say that not in a whiney "Math is hard." voice, but in a "Damn, I just don't GET it." tone. I flunked geometry the first time and both algebra and chemistry found me totally flustered. It's like I'm the math equivelant of color blind. I opted out of the sciences early on, even though I'm fascinated with the natural world, because I couldn't do the math.
For this sorry state of affairs I blame two people. First on the list: my 7th grade geometry teacher. This pale woman with fuzzy blonde hair would stand in front of the classroom openly yawning during her geometry lectures. Under the yellowish glow of the flourescents, she failed to enlighten me one bit about the mysteries of Pythagoras or how to find a hypontenous. Meanwhile, I dozed open-eyed at my desk, wondering whether my teacher had turned transparent, so seemingly absent was she. And this was before the pot-smoking days.
The other person I blame is, naturally, my dad. My dad was a math teacher for much of his life before he became a technical professional, and lately, he's been teaching math again. I think, in retrospect, it must have driven him completely wild that I could not for the life of me get what "x" was. Nor did I care. Numbers, which were his bread and butter, totally bored me. When he tried to tutor me through algebra, it was cold war for the entire term.
I don't think I need therapy to get over my math trauma, after all, I'm a fairly highly functioning adult. (Okay, I get that there's such a thing as denial.) I do, sometimes wish I saw the pattern, though, that I cared what "x" is, that I could make my brain pay attention to the most simple of math problems. I wouldn't mind making myself out to be just slightly less of an idiot than every other idiot on the Web. If you're an idiot on the internet once, you're an idiot forever. It's simple math.
Friday, January 14, 2005
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