tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42062492846817164742024-03-05T19:27:58.195-08:00Upstream of ConsciousnessUpstream of Consciousness wants to be a collection of interviews that only contain answers. I will provide 5 phrases, words, quotes, links, pictures, or videos (in italics) and your consciousness will provide the rest. Responses can be short or long, real or fictional, words, links, or anything in between. In return, each of my "subjects" will give me 1 item back which I will then respond to (under the heading Ripple, with a number next to it). Come, swim for a while.Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-25570197322112333772009-09-20T05:30:00.000-07:002009-09-20T10:30:09.834-07:00Ripple (10)<span style="font-style: italic;">10. <a href="http://abundanthope.net/pages/">http://abundanthope.net/pages/</a></span><span style="font-style: italic;"> [Bri]</span><br /><br />Oooh, New Age website!<br /><br />This website might as well be written in Mandarin, or some other language I don't understand, because that's about how well I follow what is written here (There is a NEW READERS section, but what's the fun in that?).<br /><br />Instead, I first clicked on the link to "Becoming a Messiah" and then "Homework Assignment" <a href="http://abundanthope.net/pages/article_1450.shtml">here</a>, and was disappointed to find the homework to be much like my homework in college -- download these articles and read them.<br /><br />I think on a scale of 1 to 10, I'd be about a 7 of a Messiah -- sort of your garden variety, good guy, not the one to save the earth but not the one to lead everyone off a cliff to hell either kind of a Messiah.<br /><br />Joking aside, this seems like a pretty hardcore version of New Ageism, although I could be wrong, because I know very little about it. I do have friends, including my oldest childhood friend, who ascribe to some New Age beliefs.<br /><br />Personally, I'm of a very scientific mindset -- life is a product of genes and environment, which is to say we are born with a rough blueprint and then our experiences and interactions with others fill in the rest of the lines. Even belief itself -- that comes out of genetic predispositions and biography, neurotransmitters firing away. Everyone and everything is connected in that molecules are constantly bouncing off of each other, my words are read and enter someone's thoughts, etc. I haven't really thought about how the universe beyond Earth comes into play, although it must, in terms of the gravitational pull of the moon, our perception of the constellations, and of course, the Sun. But I think it all happens on an atomic particle level, something tangible that can be measured and studied and seen using science -- if not now, eventually, with better tools.<br /><br />I'm willing to admit that I might be wrong, that there might be some 258th dimension of reality and truth that <span style="font-style: italic;">my </span>genetics and <span style="font-style: italic;">my </span>history have tuned me out of. And so a conversation about beliefs, unless your beliefs cause you to hate people, is always interesting to me.Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-37267172829494626162009-09-20T04:53:00.000-07:002009-09-20T05:29:09.658-07:00Bri<span style="font-style: italic;">A link of this beautiful <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rpsNNsZcKzo">video</a> was passed around on my Twitter feed on the anniversary of 9/11 and I became curious about the person behind it. I highly recommend looking at Bri's website, <a href="http://www.blogger.com/bri.lovevolution.org">bri.lovevolution.org</a> (where you can find among her digital art, the work in number 4) and her blog at <a href="http://www.blogger.com/sendmylovetoiran.blogspot.com">sendmylovetoiran.blogspot.com</a> -- her art and stories are both fascinating and inspiring.<br /><br />1.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><embed id="VideoPlayback" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=2482629427805398749&hl=en&fs=true" style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed><br /><br /><br /><span>=D! Love this song. I've made a career out of making music videos, but this industry has always been intimately linked with record labels-- who are now nosediving as a collective whole. When I first started a "cheap DIY" video cost about $40k, now labels are offering about a quarter of that. This means way more work for me, and way less money. (boohoo)</span><br /><br /><a href="http://online.wsj.com/public/article/SB114565464571832744-sHgoIPmBZ4MjiRuFMweLFomnl0k_20070421.html">The Download Divide - WSJ.com</a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">2.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">"I met an old lady once, almost a hundred years old, and she told me, 'There are only two questions that human beings have ever fought over, all through history. How much do you love me? And who's in charge?'" - </span>Elizabeth Gilbert<span style="font-style: italic;">, </span><i style="font-style: italic;">Eat Pray Love</i><br /><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BDSM" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/<wbr>BDSM</a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">3. </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.ladowntownnews.com/articles/2009/09/18/entertainment/doc4ab417b24e124691239952.txt">The Iran You Don't Know </a><br /><br /><br />Though I'm not seeing anything particularly interesting about those two images of the show, I obviously dig the sentiment. Iran is nothing like how the majority of Americans see it- traveling and seeing different cultures should be requisite for life-- especially, especially if you are going to have an opinion about them. I'll be headed back to Iran early next year, and hopefully Jeddah as well, pretty psyched about it.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">4.</span><br /><br />In 2004, after dusk, two jets flew over my apartment in Allston, MA (I was then living with the sexy, famed B<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bri.lovevolution.org/elgin_top.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 228px;" src="http://bri.lovevolution.org/elgin_top.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a>rian Viglione of the Dresden Dolls). The jets were part of an airshow at Fenway Park. They tore through the atmosphere and, as I ran to the front door to catch a glimpse, my brain was hit with the most electric & intense headache, migraine, I had ever experienced. I had to hide under my dark blue down comforter for about a week, everything hurt my brain.<br /><br />While sitting in the silence, I started to feel a certain sentience fill the room-- the air would get lighter. And as I would lay down at night, I felt many invisible creatures put their hands on me (I imagined they all looked mostly human). There was a current flowing from them to me. It felt like some sort of healing ritual... and, in some parallel dimension, my body was completely glowing.<br /><br />After about a week, the headaches went away but the imaginary friends did not. I felt a really intense love for them, and one in particular. After moving to the South End (Cloud Club, the same building complex as Amanda Palmer of Dresden Dolls & Michael Pope, director extraordinaire), I was having regular visits from a recurring cast of invisibles.<br /><br />After moving to NYC, I don't have nearly as many of these experiences, though my brain often composites faces out of random patterns (in a brick wall, in a spill, in cracks of the sidwalk)- and I imagine this is some sign that there is someone invisible in my presence. This digital painting series (Elgin, Eastor, etc) began under my assumption that if I dump a set of colors onto a page, I can find that face, or figure, to be revealed. As they reveal themselves to me, I revel in assigning them personalities, voices, eating habits, etc.<br />Elgin is kind of a grumpy prickly guy who ultimately has a heart of gold!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">5. </span><span style="font-style: italic;">groove</span><br /><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/S-nHNR_dVsw&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/S-nHNR_dVsw&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-32783388063720998892009-09-07T13:48:00.000-07:002009-09-08T01:13:29.373-07:00Briar<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The wonderful New Zealander Briar writes about, among other things, cupcakes (!) at <a href="http://peachteacupcake.tumblr.com/">peachteacupcake.tumblr.com</a> and will write beautiful stories and poetry for you at <a href="http://mywordsyourstory.tumblr.com/">mywordsyourstory.tumblr.com</a>. Go check them both out!</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><div class="im">1. "I soon realized that no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within." -Lillian Smith<br /><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">T</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">his is such a true statement, although I might rephrase it slightly if it were me being quoted and not Lillian Smith. Her wording seems to assume that one needs an intent to journey into oneself for the external global journeys to have true meaning and distance. I guess this may be true in some cases, but in my own personal experience, and what I hear from other people, the moment you leave your comfort zone, whether it be your house, your suburb, your city, country, continent, hemisphere, once you leave the place that you know and venture out, it's inevitable that your mind and heart will open and allow passage inwards. Whether it's self-discovery, or change, or just understanding, I'm not sure. It's probably all of them. You can't leave for another world, no matter how many parallels it might share with your own, and expect to come back exactly the same as you were. You could come back looking exactly the same (although obviously that's not necessarily the case - you might come back with short hair dyed a different colour, a pierced nose and a tattoo on your shoulder - hypothetically, of course) and yet when you go to sleep at night, your dreams are on the trains of a different city.</span><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="im"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> 2. "A true friend is one who thinks you are a good egg even if you are half-cracked." -Author Unknown</span><br /><br /></div>Sometimes I think I'm entirely cracked, and yet those who have seen me at my most shattered (this metaphor could get terrible reeeally fast) are certainly among my best - and truest - friends. That's not to say that those who haven't seen that side of me aren't true friends, but there are definitely those who don't know exactly what's beneath the shiny bastardised accented, New York obsessed, music sharing exterior. Although the interior is also all of those things.<br /><br />I think it's good to know what's inside. If you aren't cracked at all, not even a little bit, how can we see in and understand?<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>3. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">[Article taken down -- It was about a New Zealand burger restaurant called Murder Burger where the employees wear shirts that read "Meat is Murder". No, they do not serve vegetarian options. Their weird website and menu can be found <a href="http://www.murderburger.co.nz/">here</a>.]</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">HAHA. I've never been to Murder Burger, even though I've been a very very bad vegetarian of late. They'd only get away with that sort of thing in Ponsonby, at least at first.<br /><br />Either way, the best burgers in New Zealand, and, in fact, probably the whole world, are at Burger Fuel. The Combustion Vege is particularly excellent. They're very open to vegetarian and vegan stuff there. </span><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">4. </span></div><div><br /><br /><div><object height="339" width="420"><param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/x1jsng_the-dresden-dolls-truce_music"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/x1jsng_the-dresden-dolls-truce_music" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="339" width="420"></embed></object><br /><b><a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/x1jsng_the-dresden-dolls-truce_music">The dresden dolls truce</a></b><br /><i>by <a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/Corleone">Corleone</a></i></div><br /><br /></div><div>If there is one song that I wish I had heard Amanda Palmer play in my time in the US, it would have been Truce. It used to be the track I would ignore, the long one at the end of the CD that I didn't really know, when I skipped through to Girl A and Coin Operated Boy and Missed Me, because that was the way I segued into the Dolls - didn't most of us? Now it would be one of my absolute favourite DD/AP songs. I have to say, despite the gorgeous orchestration on many of the WKAP tracks, and the fact that I ADORE Zoe Keating, I really think that The Dresden Dolls records will always trump her solo material, in my opinion.<br /><br />I called out Truce from the merch table at the Twitter show in Cambridge, I texted my friends to get them to call for it as well. I knew there was no longer any point in begging her to play New Zealand, and really, Truce is more deep and meaningful than a song about periods being late, even if it IS also about my beloved home country. It was playing the first time I saw the New York skyline in February, was it? I don't really count New Years as having seen NYC. I didn't really know where I was, what I was looking at. But the second time, the real time I saw the tapering skyscrapers and felt the tingle of excitement (the same excitement I would feel every time I crossed the Williamsburg Bridge on the J or the Manhattan Bridge on the N or Q and looked towards the city, even after I'd been calling NYC my 'home' for two months), the Dolls self-titled was coming to its conclusion, and even though the specific microcosm places mentioned in Truce are all in Boston, not New York, it still meant something.<br /><br />The next time I was on the bus coming into the city, I played Sing. That meant something too, but it wasn't quite the same.<br /></div><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">5. slap bracelets</span><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">The beginning and probably end of my modelling career involved them, in fact, for the first time in weeks, there is one, the only one I own, on my wrist. It's a little disconcerting having that eye around. There are four bracelets on my wrist - that one is NYC, AFP, music. Another is family, childhood (a silver charm bracelet with a netball playing kiwi, a ballerina, a cursive letter 'B' and a book complete with bookworm). The third is friendship and slightly different childhood (a woven friendship bracelet, given to me by my friend Anna when we were probably ten or eleven, yellow and pink and green), and the last one is school, the world, and jobs (a beaded bangle that I wore to my Year Thirteen school ball, to match my golden sequinned 20s style dress. It came from Trade Aid, the first shop I ever worked in, which promotes and supports ethical and fair trade. I think it's from Tanzania). I've decided I like to jangle a bit - but only on one wrist.</span><br /></span></div>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-43556485503949859702009-07-20T08:04:00.000-07:002009-09-20T10:31:47.981-07:00Ripple (9a)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">9a. Love & Life [yosmark]<br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>Oh, dear.</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess the short reply would be: Thank god I'm turning 23 and not 89 because I know shit about both of these things.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am going to spend the rest of my life writing the longer reply, but let me take a stab at a beginning.</div><div><br /></div><div>These are a few of the things I've learned about love and life in my first 23 years.</div><div>--------------</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>I've been drawing a question mark on the inside of my left wrist every day since the beginning of July. I keep thinking that one of these days I'll forget, and the thought will fade, but every morning, or afternoon, or evening, I look at my wrist and I remember. And then, when it is smudged or washed off, I redraw it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Live the question. It's my new mantra, coming from this great quote by Rainer Maria Rilke, from a letter he sent to a young poetry student of his:</div><div><br /></div>"I would like to beg you dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."<div><br /></div><div>It is an odd day when you have a blog full of answers and decide to live the questions. But this is the year I accepted that I don't have all of the answers, for myself or anyone else. And maybe I never will. But that doesn't stop me from living the questions, from asking them and loving them.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is the year I learned how to live the questions through breaking and fixing, losing and finding, breaking and fixing, losing and finding.</div><div><br /></div><div>I used to think that love was more about breaking and losing than fixing and finding. That true love was selflessness in the most literal sense. I lost my self in the daughter my parents wanted, the friends my friends needed, the person others told me I should be. I lost my own emotions and thoughts in someone else's and reflected them back. That kind of love is very powerful, in some ways. It's a bond where you find yourself so changed by the presence of another being that you can't separate the two, the change and the person. It's addictive. But it can't sustain, not that kind of love nor that kind of change. Your true self gets angry and resentful and fights like hell to get out.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think real love shouldn't feel like a fight. It shouldn't feel like you are losing something, or even falling. </div><div><br /></div><div>There is one example of true romantic love that I think back on this year, and it was of a good friend of mine who was about to marry her boyfriend after 8 years of dating. We were walking, a week before her wedding, and she told me about this cheesy book someone had given her on the "5 languages of love". Her then-fiancé's was "terms of affection", something that surprised her. She looked at me intensely and said, "Right now, we're going to be newlyweds, and we're going to be passionately in love. But it's not always going to be that way, and years from now, when we're older, I'm going to have to remember that, that I have to tell him and not just show him that I love him." And to me, that's what love is. An understanding that things will not always be same, but a series of choices that people make together to grow together and to love each other, whether it is by getting married or remembering to use "terms of affection" or taking care of each other when you get old and cranky. </div><div><br /></div><div>So much of not only love, but also life is about choices, and learning from them. I make bad choices all the time. But those choices are just as much a part of me as my good choices. I take responsibility for the times I've walked away when I shouldn't have, the times I should have walked away, and I didn't. And then I learn and I grow and I become a better person.</div><div><br /></div><div>And I spend a good deal of my life laughing at myself. Because really, life is hilarious, and if you don't do at least some laughing at yourself, you're probably doing it wrong.</div><div><br /></div><div>There is so much in each of our lives that is hilarious and beautiful and worthwhile, that we don't take the time to enjoy or experience, and there is so much in every human being to love.</div><div><br /></div><div>In that way, I have so much love in my life, because the love I give is love I have.</div><div><br /></div><div>As for true love, of the romantic kind... I am content for the moment with drawing a question mark on my wrist and living and loving the best that I can.</div>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-63086693056892839242009-07-19T17:56:00.000-07:002009-07-19T18:52:49.763-07:00yosmark<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">yosmark is the most awesome Mexican I know, except for the fact that he doesn't make it easy for me to kidnap him. There are other things I can say to attest to his awesomeness, but why don't you find out for yourself by adding him on </span><a href="http://twitter.com/yosmark"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">twitter</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">1.</span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wxIgdOlT2cY&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wxIgdOlT2cY&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />I always get a smile on my face when I see functional technology, even a bigger smile when it is technology that will/could help human beings. This video brought to my mind my future plan of traveling to the USA & specially to The Johns Hopkins University, which will be a remarkable experience and a unique trip. One of the biggest reasons to go to the USA is because Neuroengineering is nowhere around here. I would like to at least have a background before I do (or attemp) my Masters in Neuroengineering also in the USA. I could even go farther & then bring all this knowledge to my country, which is one of my biggest goals.<br /><br />This is also a bit of a reminder to myself that I have to work hard, there are a shit ton of great minds in the world & if I want to be what I want to be (which is not an average person) I have to put even more effort in everything I do; always trying to do my best, being the first & most of those times achieving it. I had (as you may already know) a little crisis about my education, which after talking to people who I respect a lot went away though it is still there as a reminder that I should never give up nor stop learning new things.<br /><br />This fight for always doing my best (or at least trying) made me a friendless person in my first semester in my University, not because I am a sneaky bastard who fucks everyone else so he can succed but because this people felt I should share all my homeworks & papers with them, which I considered (and still consider) one of the most stupid ideas ever. Maybe it's because of the culture of lazyness of never doing more than the required.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">2. 20</span><br />4*5<br /><br />Years, age & Experience are words that come to my mind all tied together, I believe I have achieved, maybe not a lot of things but at least enough things to feel proud of myself, I haven't "lived my life" as people often say, I mean I haven't went to many partys or rocked out with my friends or maybe even assaulted liquor stores just for fun (I am joking). My point is I haven't done so many "traditional fun" things. I have plans and I want to accomplish them, I just need the time to do them.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">3. </span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-oqNLC7EkwI&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-oqNLC7EkwI&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />That day was filled with good and bad experiences & it was one of the most exhausting days in my life, I didn't sleep before the show, I had two exams the other day and one day before (or two I don't remember) I wrote my first functional program & delivered it to my teacher. I was really exhausted that day, though I had a compromise with Jason of filming the show so he could then extract the audio of the show (which was with this other girl who is pretty big around here named Ximena Sariñana) and put it in one of his collaboration albums as bonus tracks.<br /><br />It was a sad day because in my first day of University I had to take this class... Inorganic Chemistry (which was like at 16 hrs so by that time I was really tired) class that I shared with this unbelievable cute girl named María, we talked, we liked each other, we enjoyed having long chatts discussing about everything and about nothing. So I decided I should take her to Jason Webley's show, I asked her out, she said she would go, she then cancelled the same night via text message, situation that made me sad; Though seeing Jason Webley live which is maybe my favorite singer/songwriter EVER made me happy. That same night I had my first experience as a roadie, I sold cds & shirts in the Merch Table.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">4. noob</span><br /><br />That word just reminds me of my n00b days in The Shadowbox, yet another sad situation. I joined the box on Christmas eve. I was all alone and sad in my house, my best friend got her first real relationship which as much as made me happy for him made me a lonley person & due to that I was depressed during that winter, the girl I liked by that moment would state she didn't like me.<br /><br />That christmas eve I turned on my computer and I began surfing the web, found a link to the forum, joined asked some stupid questions & then left. I then came back & started posting, I filled the space that my best friend left with the internet. I started spending a lot of time on the internet posting. All this internet surfing has made me met really beautiful and great people. It also brings me back to the last Jason Webley, Jason Webley was the first artist I would meet through the internet and the one that has shocked me the most.<br /><br />Some months later I would hear about Jason comming to México & that he needed help I helped him & one of my friends to make his shows possible. I remember he was interviewed in this University Radio Station... which I then found out was the Radio Station of my Current University.<br /><br />Now I expect to meet more and more "internet people" to hang out with them & what not. The internet has brought me great friends & great experiences.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">5. <a href="http://www.mexicanjokes.net/if.php">You Know You Are A Mexican When...</a></span><br /><br />"There is at least one member in your family name Maria, Guadalupe, Juan, Jose, or Jesus"<br /><br />This is true, I have 1 cousin named María, 2 aunts & my mother are named Guadalupe, Juan is the name of one of my uncles, José is the name of my other Uncle & Jesus is the name of an uncle & 2 cousins.<br /><br />As much as I am always proud of my country I get really dissapointed at times because of the culture & the thoughts the average citizen has. This stupid "let's do the less we can" thought always make me mad.<div><br /></div>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-70464616064368156352009-05-03T08:20:00.000-07:002009-05-03T09:35:28.270-07:00Ripple (8)<span style="font-style:italic;">8.<br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wbCEWmpQ0zY&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wbCEWmpQ0zY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br />[Sylvia]<br /></span><br /><br />I <span style="font-style:italic;">was</span> going to write a poem...<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Cdin-Rh15C0&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Cdin-Rh15C0&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-48547938495333800352009-04-14T09:50:00.000-07:002009-04-14T18:32:33.142-07:00Sylvia<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Sylvia creates beautiful artwork and videos. Her videos can be found </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/sketchingtheweb"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">here</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img207.imageshack.us/img207/2598/32591351.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 470px; height: 721px;" src="http://img207.imageshack.us/img207/2598/32591351.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />1."</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span">Je souhaitais que toute vie humaine fût une pure liberté transparente."<br />- Simone de Beauvoir</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; line-height: 16px;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Translation:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; line-height: 16px;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><br />I wish that every human life be pure transparent freedom.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" ><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img140.imageshack.us/img140/4797/96671298.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 370px; height: 557px;" src="http://img140.imageshack.us/img140/4797/96671298.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">2. Silvio Berlusconi</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img140.imageshack.us/img140/4797/96671298.jpg"><br /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />3. </span><br /></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/d4tkiGvV_ek&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/d4tkiGvV_ek&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img21.imageshack.us/img21/8543/91378560.jpg"><br /></a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img21.imageshack.us/img21/8543/91378560.jpg"><img src="http://img21.imageshack.us/img21/8543/91378560.jpg" alt="" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 377px; height: 560px;" border="0" /></a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img2.imageshack.us/img2/4508/26674213.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 455px; height: 710px;" src="http://img2.imageshack.us/img2/4508/26674213.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />4. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 16px;font-family:verdana;font-size:13;" ><i>"Then one day I was </i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 16px;font-family:verdana;font-size:13;" ><i><br />walking along Tinker Creek </i></span></span><i>thinking of nothing at all and I saw the tree with lights in it. I saw the backyard cedar where the mourning doves roost charged and transfigured, each cell buzzing with flame. I stood on the grass with the lights in it, grass that was wholly fire, utterly focused and utterly dreamed. It was less like seeing than like being for the first time seen, knocked breathless by a powerful glance. The flood of fire abated, but I'm still spending the power. Gradually the lights went out in the cedar, the colors died, the cells unflamed and disappeared. I was still ringing. I had been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until at that moment I was lifted and struck. I have since only very rarely seen the tree with lights in it. The vision comes and goes, mostly goes, but I live for it, for the moment when the mountains open and a new light roars in spate through the crack, and the mountains slam."</i> - from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek</div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"></span></i><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 16px;font-family:verdana;font-size:13;" > by Annie Dillard</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;font-family:verdana;font-size:48;" ><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;font-family:verdana;font-size:48;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />5. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yHdq9Zhg7cM&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yHdq9Zhg7cM&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img22.imageshack.us/img22/436/67893090.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 680px; height: 523px;" src="http://img22.imageshack.us/img22/436/67893090.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></div></div></div></div>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-76034620605773622952009-03-22T09:31:00.000-07:002009-03-22T09:59:37.220-07:00Ripple (7)<span style="font-style: italic;">7. enigma [Hayley]<br /></span><br />"I have always been fascinated by what I don't understand."<br /><br />I wrote that, maybe a week ago, in a journal entry, and it's very true.<br /><br />Mystery is power.<br /><br />There are some people in my life that think I'm an enigma. I think that's untrue. Once I'm open, I'm open and fairly uncomplicated. It just takes me a while to get there. Sometimes, though, I miss the power.<br /><br />enigma<br /><br />she is a sphinx<br />holding the answers behind<br />half hidden smiles<br /><br />and i am a fool<br />trying to unlock riddles<br />by the moonlight<br /><br />for once the truth is clear<br />she will vanish<br /><br />she was never there at all<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-36391294163589015102009-03-17T18:35:00.000-07:002009-03-17T20:13:26.427-07:00Hayley<span style="font-style: italic;">Hayley has provided several links below, but I'd also like to highly recommend her and her sister's awesome radio show, <a href="http://www.myspace.com/whrwpenguins">Penguins in the Desert</a>, which airs from 1-4 on Fridays (also embedded in the player on number 2).<br /></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">1. “I think music in itself is healing. It's an explosive expression of humanity. It's something we are all touched by. No matter what culture we're from, everyone loves music.” – Billy Joel<br /><br /></span><a href="http://themusicexperiment.tk/">http://TheMusicExperiment.tk</a><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>I don't think it's true that everyone loves music, but I see where Billy Joel is coming from. It can definitely be a connector, though.<br /><br />It was extraordinarily disappointing to me when I made the realization that not everyone in college radio listens, appreciates or loves music. That there are some people who will DJ a music show on the radio and not give a shit about any type of music what so ever. It was a wake up call to me that my deep, passionate love for my favorite bands and for my favorite music wasn't shared, and that it was perhaps one of the most unique things about me and my radio show. It honestly was a bit shocking to me.<br /><br />I am a music enthusiast, a music appreciator in the fullest sense of these words. It is part of my being - my identity - and has been for quite some time.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />2.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bmk1dToZYGo&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bmk1dToZYGo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Response:</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI1osx6VoyGf7EQa5dgFjxp2tqUJf8GAL6ieMLMS1sE-cSNGJ_C7OgDOnsRmVqUDxvtuVVJ99dwZ5pMTQPKwzZE8j7r4uzdFCaV9OtLrsCXyBH7BXn3T_R1llG2WDJDZ8QyyGD3N9HUhmj/s1600-h/peguin+cries2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 244px; height: 253px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI1osx6VoyGf7EQa5dgFjxp2tqUJf8GAL6ieMLMS1sE-cSNGJ_C7OgDOnsRmVqUDxvtuVVJ99dwZ5pMTQPKwzZE8j7r4uzdFCaV9OtLrsCXyBH7BXn3T_R1llG2WDJDZ8QyyGD3N9HUhmj/s320/peguin+cries2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314337181524034274" border="0" /></a><br />"We live like penguins in the desert, why can't we live like tribes?"<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><div style="width: 300px;"><object height="110" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/p-76xNsRPN/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/p-76xNsRPN/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="110" width="300"></embed></object><div style="padding: 1px; background-color: rgb(230, 230, 230);"><div style="padding: 4px 4px 0pt 0pt; float: left;"><a href="http://www.imeem.com/"><img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/" border="0" /></a></div><form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin: 0pt; padding: 0pt;"><input name="EmbedSearchBox" type="text"><input value="Search" style="font-size: 12px;" type="submit"><div style="padding-top: 3px;"><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&ek=p-76xNsRPN" rel="nofollow"><img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&ek=p-76xNsRPN" rel="nofollow"><img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&ek=p-76xNsRPN" rel="nofollow"><img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&ek=p-76xNsRPN" rel="nofollow"><img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/p-76xNsRPN/" border="0" /></a></div></form></div></div><br /><a href="http://www.imeem.com/penguinsinthedesert/music/_s3D3sba/hayley-and-jeri-promo-penguins-in-the-desert-radio/">PROMO - Penguins in the Desert [RADIO] - Hayley and Jeri</a><br /><br />3. "My mom"<br /><br /></span><span>Your mother is a lovely woman.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />4. <object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/O86GpUL0uHA&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/O86GpUL0uHA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /></span><span>This was the most amazing night of my life, period. It meant so much more to me than a simple concert. It was everything I needed it to be. I met some amazing people, saw amazing art and heard amazing music. It was a spiritual experience for me.<br /><br />I've been a fan of Muse since around 2001. Apocalypse Please happens to be one of my favorite songs off of the Absolution CD and as soon as Amanda played the first two chords I KNEW it was this song, though it was completely unexpected (this is the first public performance of this cover). I was glad that the microphone wasn't working, because that meant I was able to record the entire song on the video. It's funny to me because I used to tell people how impressed I was by Muse - how so much sound can come from three people (particularly live while on stage, though now they have a 4th unofficial band member playing loops and such). And when I first really got into the Dresden Dolls I thought the same - how amazing it is that so much sound, so much musical substance can come from only 2 band members.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />5. "Poetry is not always words." -Audrey Foris<br /><br /></span><span>In 2006 then American Poet Laureate Ted Kooser spoke at my university - he was there to accept the Milton Kessler book award for his book (that actually won the Pulitzer Prize too) called Delights & Shadows. I was in an American Poet Laureate course where I read his book so this was a particularly exciting presentation for me. The President of my university introduced him but in her speech she said something about poetry being soothing and calming. I remember my instructor ranting about how ridiculous her opening was because described poetry in such a closed minded way. Poetry, my instructor said, could be chilling, it could be harsh or unsettling, it could be all-things-not-soothing.<br /><br />When I went up to the signing table after the reading I told Ted Kooser how much I appreciated his poetry, how I enjoyed his perspective and how he could take observations and descriptions of ordinary things and turn them into poetry. He pays attention and I pay attention and I appreciated that. He responded with a smile and recited a few lines of a poem to me. To this day, I do not remember what those lines were and I tried to google what I remembered of them after I got back to my dorm, but maybe it's for the best that the memory of the moment exists. From my journal, I wrote the gist of the poem he recited to me: "It was basically about the importance of searching for meaning in something (or a poem) that at first glance is easy to ignore." And it really is all about paying attention.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />6. “Any dictator would admire the uniformity and obedience of the U.S. media.” – Noam Chomsky<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.genewallcole.com/ofp1.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 140px;" src="http://www.genewallcole.com/ofp1.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a><span>In 2006 Noam Chomsky spoke at my school. It was free and open to the public, the concert hall filled up quickly, even with people standing in the aisles. To accommodate the crowd the organizers opened a second theater and set up a broadcast of his lecture on a project screen but even then I think they had to turn people away. I was fortunate to not only attend, but I was in the theater where the lecture took place and had a pretty decent seat. My only regret is that I wasn't exactly aware of what the lecture was on and I was an undeclared freshman at the time - which means that did not realize I'd spend the next 4 years studying Political Science so I'd probably appreciate it more today after knowing what I now know on the subject. It was fascinating, and intriguing.<br /><br />As far as the quote, it's amusing but very true. I think the average person would be surprised at how much power and control the media has in America, but what's more surprising is how people blindly follow the media without questioning. They have so much control of American politics and public opinion, it is outstanding.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />7. law<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.drama20show.com/wp-content/uploads/respect-my-authority.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 470px; height: 308px;" src="http://www.drama20show.com/wp-content/uploads/respect-my-authority.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">8. “Isn’t it ironic… don’t you think?” – Alanis Morissette<br /><br /></span><span>I love Alanis Morissette, she is a musician that I respect so much. She was my first concert, my first CD, my first favorite musician, my first role model. I've been a loyal fan for years. When I saw Alanis live in 2002 this song wasn't on her set and I was disappointed about that. I didn't realize until fairly recently why it wasn't played on that tour - because it was one of the songs blacklisted by ClearChannel radio after September 11, 2001 (since the lyrics mention a plane crash). While I was in 8th grade my English teacher quoted this song in her lesson on irony on the chalk board. I raised my hand and pointed out to her that she spelled "Morissette" incorrectly. In 9th grade my English teacher also used this song for her lesson on irony. That time I raised my hand and pointed out how the examples in the lyrics that my teacher used weren't actually ironic, but just bad luck. I wasn't trying to insult the lyrics or even the teacher, but sometimes it's stupid to make a song a cliche, and to do so incorrectly. I love the fact that this song IS ironic in the sense that it's named "Ironic" and has no examples of irony - that's the irony. It was intended to be ironic and isn't. I love that. I've noticed lately that irony keeps popping up in my life (or maybe I am just more aware these days to notice it), and I am entertained by it. I'm embracing the humor of it. Irony usually happens in a sad or frustrating way, and although the ironic things that happen to me and others are not necessarily funny, the mere notice that the irony is present is enough to make me smile.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />9. <a href="http://www.twinconnections.com/">http://www.twinconnections.com/</a><br /></span><span><br />I am unfazed by any and all twin stereotypes. I've heard them all, I've been asked the same questions over and over again. Sometimes I try to have fun with it. For instance, if you tell me, "I've always wanted a twin!" I will reply, "Here, take mine!"<br /><br />I'll beat you to the punch - no, we have never switched places. We've only done one "twin thing" in our life and well, it just so happens to have almost 1.5 million views on youtube, was featured on the front pages of <a href="http://www.blogger.com/abcnews.com">abcnews.com</a> and <a href="http://www.blogger.com/yahoo.com">yahoo.com</a> and oh yeah, was showed on Good Morning America and made Diane Sawyer laugh...<br /><br /><a href="http://improveverywhere.com/2008/07/06/human-mirror/">http://improveverywhere.com/2008/07/06/human-mirror/</a></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9MBBr-a2KnM&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9MBBr-a2KnM&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />10. fallen souls<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UeSujmThFsM&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UeSujmThFsM&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /></span><span>This is the first track off of Distorted Lullabies, Ours' debut CD released in 2001 and this video was shot not too long after the album's release. The band's line up has changed considerably since then, but I thought it was important to find a live video where the instrumentation represents the album version the best. </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span><span>Pay attention at 3 minutes in to the video. At 3:15 you will hear it.<br />Every time this part comes on I close my eyes, I get chills and I feel a rush of emotion. For those 30 seconds I always stop what I am doing and listen. ALWAYS. Recently I was in the middle of a conversation with someone in the studio during my radio show while I was playing this song and I had to pause and say, "hold on a second - just listen." I cranked up the studio monitors and closed my eyes. I hear more in that vocal melody than I've ever heard spoken, this part of this song speaks to me and I always listen. Those notes mean more to me - the emotion in Jimmy Gnecco's voice are more relatable to me than any lyrics I've ever read/heard.<br /><br />As a bonus, and I do highly recommend you listen, here's Jimmy playing it again in 2006 at an acoustic performance, his voice is incredible: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XouvaHQAmFQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XouvaHQAmFQ</a></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-71834746430917640962009-03-07T19:18:00.000-08:002009-03-08T06:37:19.880-07:00Nipple Cripple (6)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Name change as requested by Oscar.</span><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">6. Mathangi Arulpragasam [Oscar]</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>Dear son of M.I.A.,</div><div><br /></div><div>Sorry for the vague greeting -- all I can find of your name so far from Google is that you are <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">not</span> named Ickit or Pickit. I can only imagine what your name is -- I hope something strong and useful and not too gimmicky and not too boring.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been asked to write about your mother, which may confuse you, because I don't actually know her. But I think about her a lot.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>In a lot of ways, I admire her -- she is creative and revolutionary with her music, fully in control of her image, and doesn't give a fuck about what people think. She almost delivered you on the stage of the Grammy's for fuck's sake. And she continues to surprise in an industry that is sadly depleted of surprises. I can appreciate that.</div><div><br /></div><div>I can also appreciate that she takes the turmoil that I have inside of being of too many cultures to ever feel fully in one -- she takes that turmoil and she makes music out of it. That fusion of sounds reminds me that it's not always necessary to choose.</div><div><br /></div><div>It took me a while to get there, to appreciate her art without bringing myself into conflict about her person.</div><div><br /></div><div>I spent a lot of my college years deliberately avoiding her music. See, I was sick of people romanticizing her, of not understanding Sri Lanka beyond what came out of her mouth. I imagine she'll tell you about your grandfather, who some claim was one of the main engineers behind the suicide bombing techniques of the Tigers. I wonder, always, what people say about that to their children. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Your grandfather worked to free our people," she might say. "So we no longer had to live under oppression."</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe in her eyes, that's truth. In my eyes, your grandfather aided in killing -- and it doesn't matter which side. I lost a lot of faith in her when she started raising money for the tsunami and it went to a shady Tiger organization. If you want to hear what I think about the Tamil Tigers, I'll send that other post about that. </div><div><br /></div><div>She has a lot of power in the world, a lot of power considering Sri Lanka. I hope she uses it for good. </div><div><br /></div><div>I use her. I use people's love for her and people's fascination for her and every time she comes up in conversation I make sure people know the other side of the conversation, that the Tigers are not as romantic as their name and the flashy graphics would suggest.</div><div><br /></div><div>And that's why I still listen to her. Because as much angst as she causes me sometimes, she allows me to have a platform for conversation and debate and education. And for that, I'm truly thankful to her and her music. </div><div><br /></div><div>This is a lot of heavy shit for a newborn. I hope by the time you're able to read this, this will be history, your mother will be selling lots and lots of records, and your world will be a lot more peaceful than ours.</div>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-19504226384279280942009-03-06T10:02:00.000-08:002009-03-06T17:02:57.242-08:00OscarOscar would like you to meet some of his fascinating kin <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.deathtotheworld.com">here.</a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">1. Nils Olaf II [original prompt:<a href="http://www.zimbio.com/King+Harald+V/articles/4/ODD+NEWS+GLOBAL+Norway+Knights+Penguin"> Norway Knights Penguin</a>]</span><br /><br />Nils Olaf II is a Colonel-in-Chief of the Norwegian King Harald II’s Royal Guard. He just so happens to be a penguin, too. How a penguin – being the poorest, dumbest animal God created – came to this lofty position is for Wikipedia to inform. To me, Nils is a prime example of the ridiculous fantasy realm of Norway that swims about my mind. It is a land of self-infantilising lolitas, hysterical sluts, gangster rappers who read Ibsen, and dour military historians who towel off in slow motion. A refuge and stronghold that is always just on the wrong side of tangibility. This fascination has been perpetuated by my love of Norwegian folklore, re-readings of Ibsen and Hamsun, charismatic Norwegian rock bands, and my unfailing belief that Norway truly is culturally twenty years behind the rest of the world. To me, Toto are still in the charts over there. If it weren’t for the cost of living, I’d be there in a heartbeat.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">2. serial killers</span><br /><br />Albert Fish stuck pins in his scrotum and caused a blackout when he went to the chair. Ted Bundy received numerous marriage proposals… after convicted. John Wayne Gacy was never employed as a clown in any capacity. He merely liked to dress as a clown and would throw parties for the neighbourhood. A few months back, I wrote to Charles Manson, asking him advice on whether I should drop out of University. I’ve yet to receive a reply, but I hear it takes a while. I’ve moved houses since then. I’m secretly wishing the new tenant at my old address opens my mail. I’ve recently been listening again to Manson’s record he recorded. It’s not his best work.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">3. jelly</span><br /><br />As in, wibbly wobbly and eat with ice cream. Don’t use fresh pineapple in jelly. Such a thing would be folly. contains a proteolytic enzyme bromelain, which breaks down protein. This interferes with the gelatine. I don’t know much about jelly, but I seem to know an awful lot about pineapples.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">4. silversmithing</span><br /><br />I might not know a whole lot about the history of the British silversmithing industry, but I probably know more than you do. This uncanny ability to know a little about a lot has led me to a life of being rather well fed on other people’s money. Growing up, I had a thirst for knowledge, always ready to ask “Why?” to the chagrin of others. Years of accumulating a knowledge of the esoteric and delightfully mundane resulted in a veritable stockpile of anecdotal ammunition, generally captivating, in part thanks to a hereditary charisma and flair for the theatrical. I once found my restaurant meal on the house, as the owner was mesmerised by my hand gestures. Upon landing in distant lands, with very little money to my name, I soon found that there was a multitude of men and women in their mid-twenties through to older decades who would delight in taking me to dinner. They’d pay the bill, and I’d drink the wine. Acquaintances would soon come to call it “prostitution”, though I preferred to call myself a raconteur. Indeed, I even indulged in after-dinner speeches; my most lengthy running just shy of four hours. My name became a verb, my stories become real stories – a great storyteller will pick up on those tiny glimmers of gold in an experience, decontextualise and recreate in an oft-fantastical vision, focussing on the fascinating rather than the wholly accurate. It’s this glamour - facilitated by charm - that can keep a young man alive… to an extent.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">5. Self-Portrait of the Artist, aged 10</span><br /><br />I was a rather mundane little thing; in some respects I still think this is the case. At the age of ten, or there about, I moved counties, lost all my friends, started anew. Losing what you have and starting from scratch is a liberating and cathartic experience; one I’ve encountered more than once, since. It enables one to assume a new persona, a new character, and play it out with conviction, as long as you have the wit to do so. At age ten I became the public school educated, cold, austere buffoon. “Precocious” would be a fitting description, though certainly I could always have been labelled as such. Donning mask after mask can result in an easy route into legend, into a cult of personality. It also brings great detachment, which itself has its pluses, as well as its obvious minuses. Age ten was the leap into a decade (and then some) of acting. Acting the fool, really. A holy fool, perhaps a Shakespearean fool. A knowing trickster, certainly. Worlds can come crashing down, if one lets them. Sometimes it helps, in a masochistic way, to allow someone to unravel the web of intrigue, and face it (or them) head on. Subversion can become impeccably dull, if it simply becomes de rigueur and without any real purpose other than fun. That’s where I fall short: I’m not a real trickster. I’m human, you see. Hermes I am not. Hermes is something to aspire to, though.<br /><br />… Hermes was the god of thieves, traders, businessmen, liars, wit, literature, athletics, rhetoric, the misleading sentence, travel, messenger to the Olympians and guide to the dead. He was the interpreter of hidden meaning.<br /><br />He fascinated me, so did similar deities such as the Egyptian Thoth or the Norse Loki (a great equaliser). It was Hermes role as trickster that really grabbed my attention.<br /><br />The trickster is oft portrayed as an opponent to the hero, but to me the trickster IS the hero. He is the deceiver, trick player, and situation inverter. Transformation, travelling, high deeds, and power. The trickster is a boundary-crosser.<br /><br />The trickster crosses both physical and social boundaries-- the trickster is often a traveller, and he often breaks societal rules. Tricksters cross lines, breaking or blurring connections and distinctions between "right and wrong, sacred and profane, clean and dirty, male and female, young and old, living and dead". The trickster often changes shape to cross between worlds. In his role as boundary-crosser, the trickster sometimes becomes the messenger of the gods.<br /><br />The role of the clown as the sacred and lewd bricoleur is very important to me. The paradox between laughter and sanctity is one that enthrals me. But it really is so crucial. Laughter opens you up from rigid preconceptions. You can forget the sanctity through upset, surprise or piety. It was the clown’s job to cross this boundary and bring people closer to god. A messenger, of sorts.<br /><br />The trickster represents a certain flexibility of mind and spirit, a willingness to defy authority and invent clever solutions that keeps cultures (and stories) from becoming too stagnant.<br /><br />But trickster stories also have something to say about how culture gets created, and about the nature of intelligence.<br /><br />The old myths say that the trickster made the world as we actually find it. Other gods set out to create a world more perfect and ideal, but this world––with its complexity and ambiguity, its beauty and its dirt––was the trickster's creation, and the work, my friend, is not yet finished<br /><br />There are no absolute truths, just different perspectives, and so the association and juxtaposition of ideas across subjects is thus one of the most valuable tasks we can perform.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">6. charm [original prompt: "Charm is a way of getting the answer yes without asking a clear question." - Albert Camus]</span><br /><br />I believe that charm can be a learned art. And an art it is. As the name suggest, it is a spell you cast over others. It is a transient experience, easily dispelled at the first falter. I never seemed to knowingly learn it, and it has been with me since I can remember. Going by my ancestry, I’d make the assumption that I was born with it. As such I don’t find it particularly draining, as I’m barely aware of what I’m doing. I don’t fully understand it, either. Why anyone would find me, a bastard to the core, charming is beyond me. Especially when I often go out of my way to enforce the fact that I am, indeed, a right cunt, only looking out for myself. I’ve been known to charm people who are simply eavesdropping into a conversation I am having. As previously stated, I’ve mesmerised people with mere hand gestures. Some part of this I put down more to the fact that I am unusual – my accent, appearance, history and presentation are all not quite ordinary. My knowing bastardry usually stays on the well, charming, side of roguish. It’s something I have felt a necessary to perpetuate, lest I become hungry again.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">7. priesthood</span><br /><br />My religious beliefs lay somewhere between Ignatius of Loyola, Shahab al-Din Suhrawardi, Seraphim Rose and Bertrand Russell. Raised by Jesuits and sired by a devout Atheist, I naturally became fascinated by both Islamic and Western Esotericism. At one point I was going to become a priest. Then again, at different points I was going to become a lawyer and a doctor. A family tradition. All of these fell by the wayside as I found myself increasingly jaded by the world around me.<br /><br />The piece of writing that had the most profound effect on me would be Henri Corbin’s essay on the Mundus Imaginalis. This key can be found here: <a href="http://www.hermetic.com/bey/mundus_imaginalis.htm">http://www.hermetic.com/bey/mundus_imaginalis.htm</a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">8. insecurity</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img4.imageshack.us/img4/2855/f4c0ea56.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 409px; height: 185px;" src="http://img4.imageshack.us/img4/2855/f4c0ea56.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">9. Self-Portrait of an Artist, aged 30</span><br /><br />Dans une vie anterieure, j'etais professeur de la psychologie anormale, et j'etais institutionnalise a cause d'avoir trop identifie avec mes patients. Le plus je les voyais, le moins bourgeoises et plus "nuancees" mes idees devenaient.<br /><br />Ceci alarmait mes collegues, qui me traitaient donc de "boheme, anarchiste, schizophrene, et sociopathe, tout a fait incapable de pratiquer la medecine professionnelle."<br /><br />further,<br /><br />il paraissait insatisfait, et disait : "alors vous pouviez pas me donner votre parole que vous ne tenez pas aux corps astraux et tout ça ?"<br /><br />"je pourrais," disait margaret, surprise que cela lui importait. "en effet, je le ferai. quand je parlais de laver mon aura, ce n'était que pour rire. mais pourquoi voulez-vous que tout ça soit arrangé ?"<br /><br />"je ne sais pas."<br /><br />"allons, mr. wilcox, vous le savez bien."<br /><br />My memoirs by that point shall most likely be titled “On The Dreariness of Being Somebody.”<br /><br />Here’s to that Hell.<br /><br />Oh, either that or I’ll be in the circus. That was my childhood dream. Still is.Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-11871581029462904212009-03-04T13:39:00.000-08:002009-03-06T04:50:25.419-08:00Ripple (5)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">5. The Tamil Tigers [Rob]</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>For background:</div><div><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sri_Lankan_Civil_War">Sri Lankan Civil War wiki article</a></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7922096.stm">Sri Lanka faces war 'catastrophe' - latest BBC article</a></div><div><br /></div><div>I've been asked a lot about Sri Lanka recently, which makes sense, seeing as the war there (which has been happening for about 25 years) is reaching a crescendo and is finally hitting even American news, which is usually almost criminally inattentive to world news.</div><div><br /></div><div>You can, of course, read the links above for all of the facts (very often biased towards one side or another) of what is going on, and do your own Google searching. I'll be happy to answer any comments/questions to the best of my ability if you leave them up here, or even debate with you, as I'm trying not to make this entry too too long. </div><div><br /></div><div>But this blog is not about facts.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been trying to remember the first time I was aware of the Tamil Tigers' existence. It was always spoken about in my family, and I remember going to rallies in front of the White House even when I was very little, but the base of those memories for me was more the excitement of a trip or the fact that my mom made different foods to take.</div><div><br /></div><div> The clearest memory I have is the day before I turned 13. I was in Sri Lanka for the summer. We were at my grandmother's house when we heard a dull boom. The power was being cut somewhere around 8 at night those days, and so it was eerie, this noise, coming through candlelit night.</div><div><br /></div><div>We found out it was a train bombing soon enough, and my mother worried if one of my cousins was on the train, coming from work. It turned out that, although in total 86 people died, my cousin was OK, and the only relative that was injured was a distant uncle who lost a leg. It's a weird thing to be thankful that all that was lost was a leg.</div><div><br /></div><div>A few years later, I would meet and become very good friends with a boy who lost both his mother and sister in that bombing. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think the Tamil Tigers, at the head, are terrorists. They go after civilians, regardless whether they are Sinhalese (the majority ethnic group) or Tamil. Right now, as the SL military is pushing ahead, there are Tamil civilians (70,000-250,000 depending on who you are asking) who are trapped in Tiger territory. Apparently as these Tamils are trying to flee the site of fighting, to government designated safe areas (which, admittedly, may be no better than concentration camps), they are getting shot at. The Tigers know that if they don't have a civilian shield, they will get defeated.</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel the most for Tamil civilians in all of this. The Tigers claim to be fighting for them, but now this has all become a power struggle where innocent people are damned. Even people who end up becoming suicide bombers -- they are pawns. Poverty-stricken, brainwashed, hopeless, with no alternatives, they kill themselves in the hopes of... what? An escape? A cause they don't quite understand? Reverence? What sort of desperation brings you to kill others with your own body?</div><div><br /></div><div>But the head of the Tamil Tigers, mainly Vellupi Prabhakaran, a basically uneducated guy who became the leader -- I have little sympathy for him and those directly under him. He is the brainwasher, the one in power, the coward who sends others off to die. </div><div><br /></div><div>The pacifist in me has trouble with wanting someone to die. I'd like to see him captured, to let the world see his face and understand how much misery he has brought what was once paradise. But it is unlikely he will be captured alive. </div><div><br /></div><div>I hope with all of my heart that this war is over soon. I hope the North can be rebuilt, that the Sinhalese and Tamils can live together without resentment of each other, and when I have my own children, I can take them up there without risking being shot. I've been told it was a beautiful place.</div>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-35517578875114765622009-03-02T21:09:00.000-08:002009-03-03T10:05:37.090-08:00Rob<span style="font-style: italic;"><div>In lieu of a link, Rob asked me to share this Rumi excerpt with you:</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't worry about saving these songs!</div><div>And if one of our instruments breaks;</div><div>it doesn't matter.</div><div><br /></div><div>We have fallen into the place</div><div>where everything is music.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>1. </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Yes Yes – Charles Bukowski</span><br /><br />when God created love He didn't help most<br />when God created dogs He didn't help dogs<br />when God created plants that was average<br />when God created hate we had a standard utility<br />when God created me He created me<br />when God created the monkey He was asleep<br />when He created the giraffe He was drunk<br />when He created narcotics He was high<br />and when He created suicide He was low<br /><br />when He created you lying in bed<br />He knew what He was doing<br />He was drunk and He was high<br />and He created the mountains and the sea and fire at the same time<br /><br />He made some mistakes<br />but when He created you lying in bed<br />He came all over His Blessed Universe.<br /><br /></span>A Bukowski love poem is a strange thing indeed. Irreverent in everything he did; romance was no exception. Both his fear of and his desire for intimacy are evident in his writing. One other thing is also clear though…He did know…and have love.<br /><br />Many people may see blasphemy here, or at least expect me to see it. I don’t. I see a man, trying to explain…trying to articulate with his set of circumstances and his tools, a point of view that is common to all men and foreign to most.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">2. </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">“We've been very arrogant in assuming that there's a sharp line dividing us from the rest of the animal kingdom. We are not the only beings on this planet with personalities, minds, and, above all, emotions. We need to be more respectful.” – Jane Goodall</span><br /><br /></span>While I do agree with Dr. Goodall’s conclusion, I believe that our “arrogance” is well founded. In fact, the very reason for that arrogance should be what brings us into a deeper respect for our surroundings- both entities with personalities, minds, and emotions and entities without those traits. The sharp line does exist, but not where many believe. It’s not a physical or mental line. The sharp line divides the soul from the spirit. The fact that my creator endowed me with the awesome power and responsibility that come with the knowledge of good and evil inspires me to be a good steward of all that He has entrusted to me.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">3. </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">cracker</span><br /><br /></span>The year…1995. The setting…South Central.<br /><br />Early one Saturday morning, my Uncle Ron and I were on our way to the Promise Keepers’ Conference being held at the L.A. Coliseum. Having some time to kill and a couple of empty stomachs, I suggested we walk down Figueroa to find a place for some breakfast. My Uncle felt a little unsure about the idea, especially since I was sporting my Cracker Kerosene Hat tour tee shirt. I had thought nothing of it until he mentioned it, and didn’t think much of it afterwards either. So, we set off in search of Biscuits and gravy. We came upon a place with a sign out front that had something to do with Southern home cooking or something like that and went inside. As expected, we were the only two in the place with complexions lighter than coffee and cream. Once again, this seemed to ruffle my Uncle just a little bit. We grabbed a booth and ordered our food. The details of the conversation that morning are lost to me now, but I remember asking my Uncle if he was scared about something (it was in no way related to our choice of venue). The waitress walked up to refresh our coffee just in time to here my query. She looked at my Uncle With the kindest of eyes and said, Ah, honey…don’t be scared…”<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">4. </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">liberal</span><br /></span><br />I was one once. The residue remains. I think that’s okay.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">5. </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Sheena was a Punk Rocker</span><br /><br /></span>Well the kids are all hopped up and ready to go<br />They're ready to go now<br />They've got their surfboards<br />And they're going to the discotheque a go go<br />But she just couldn't stay<br />She had to break away<br />Well New York City really has it all<br />Oh yeah, oh yeah<br /><br />For the longest time, I have wanted to be a Ramone! Pure and raw, the Ramones embody everything that is Rock ‘n’ Roll. Loud and fast, they made up for their lack of skill with outright will. Down and dirty they never cared much about image. Music was it for the Ramones. Dee Dee wanted to be a rock star, Joey wanted to be a pop star and Johnny was just to cool to care about anything but being cool while Tommy- then Marky sat in back and pounded out the fastest rhythms ever imagined. The Ramones ushered my generation and all that have followed into an era of music where everyone is cool enough to be whatever they want to be.<br /><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8hMOoBfs4zs&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8hMOoBfs4zs&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">6. Amanda Palmer in your living room [Ripple's note: This list was created at the end of December, and I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">will</span> be asking for a follow up]<br /><br /></span><br />Sometimes, truth really is stranger than fiction. I will have to write a follow up to this one at the end of next month. Thanks to the best friends I never met.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">7.<br />7</span> <object height="430" width="480"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://www.theonion.com/content/themes/common/assets/onn_embed/embedded_player.swf?image=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.theonion.com%2Fcontent%2Ffiles%2Fimages%2FNOTHING_TO_TALK_ABOUT_article.jpg&videoid=89632&title=Obama%20Win%20Causes%20Obsessive%20Supporters%20To%20Realize%20How%20Empty%20Their%20Lives%20Are"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.theonion.com/content/themes/common/assets/onn_embed/embedded_player.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" flashvars="image=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.theonion.com%2Fcontent%2Ffiles%2Fimages%2FNOTHING_TO_TALK_ABOUT_article.jpg&videoid=89632&title=Obama%20Win%20Causes%20Obsessive%20Supporters%20To%20Realize%20How%20Empty%20Their%20Lives%20Are" height="430" width="480"></embed></object><br /><a href="http://www.theonion.com/content/video/obama_win_causes_obsessive">Obama Win Causes Obsessive Supporters To Realize How Empty Their Lives Are</a><br /><br />The Onion is my kind of humor!<br /><br />Also<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">[Ripple's note: Rob actually got a different video when he clicked than the one above, so this part no longer makes sense. However, he maintains the first and second parts of his answer are universally true.]</span><br /><br />Also<br /><br />Jennifer Love Hewitt has a huge head<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />8. quesadilla</span><br /><br />The first quesadilla I ever experienced (and it was an experience [life changing even]) was made for me by my Aunt Sue. We were camping in Idyllwild and she asked if we wanted one. Once she explained what it was, I spent a moment wondering why I hadn’t thought of that before. Of course I would like one…or several…thousand.<br /><br />Aunt Sue made them with Corn Tortillas, Jack cheese and Ortega chiles. They were everything I imagined them to be and more. Needless to say, I have had several thousand since that day twenty-some years ago. I have had them with steak, with chicken, with mushrooms, with all kinds of cheeses with all kinds of sauces and salsas and other condiments, but I can still taste the first one, the one Aunt Sue cooked for me so long ago in the mountains.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">9.</span><a href="http://www.ourrisingsound.com/2008/08/19/presbyterian-vs-catholic-church-sign-debate/"><span style="font-style: italic;"> Presbysterian vs. Catholic Church Sign Debate</span></a> <span style="font-style: italic;">(Ripple's note: regarding the Snopes link -- I already knew that, so there.)</span><br /><a href="http://www.snopes.com/photos/signs/dogheaven.asp"><br />http://www.snopes.com/photos/signs/dogheaven.asp</a><br /><br />As far as what side of the debate I’m on, I’m not. It’s not for me to worry about.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">10. winter sports</span><br /><br />Until about 5 years ago, winter sports were something I watched on television. Downhill skiing and ski jumping have always held my attention. More recently, Freestyle snowboarding and boarder x have entered my winter sports portfolio.<br /><br />Since that fateful day in 2004 when my brother asked me if I wanted to go to his place in Montana and try snowboarding, I have been a fiend. If I’m not riding, I’m thinking about my next trip. If it’s snowing, I wonder how much will fall. If it’s not snowing, I wonder when it will. I m jonesing as I type now.<br /><br />I have been back from our annual boys’ week in Montana for exactly one month, and I can’t stand it. I stare at the San Gabriel Mountains- home of Snow Summit- towering over the desert every day. They mock me and I curse them. Yet, my love for the sport will not let me hold a grudge. The slopes call to me…to something deep inside that only the rush of the wind in my hair and the snow under my board can understand. They call me to something that only the freedom of free riding can satisfy.<br /><br />Here is a video of a few friends, my brother and myself shredding some powder in big sky a few years ago. I am in the first two shots, and the last two shots.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.facebook.com/v/1021425495276">http://www.facebook.com/v/1021425495276</a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-58814709272206122442009-03-02T11:14:00.000-08:002009-03-02T11:27:44.460-08:00Liz E<span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >Liz E is the vocalist of Freezepop. She totally sent this to me a month ago, and I missed it because I thought my mail from that account was getting forwarded to a different account. It was not. Also, in the meantime, two of the youtube videos I sent her both got taken down (and I don't even remember what they were). I left the links and responses</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" > in for truth. Listen to Freezepop's awesome dance/electronic/fun music </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.myspace.com/freezepop">here.</a> (</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >or you know, Guitar Hero/Rock Band/etc.)</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />1. <em>sprøde<br /><br /><br /></em><img src="file:///Users/rangaatapattu/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.freezepop.net/pix/images/eur_6_5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 322px;" src="http://www.freezepop.net/pix/images/eur_6_5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >2. Boston</span><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;">home<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >3. sushi</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />i like avocado sushi a whole lot.</span><div><div class="Ih2E3d"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >4. party like it's 1999<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;">i already did that, in 1999.</span><div class="Ih2E3d"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >5. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ER0sP9mcdo" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?<wbr>v=3ER0sP9mcdo</a></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />uh, somebody took the video down.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >6. hipster</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />these kids sure do like bandanas nowadays. and beards.</span><div style="font-style: italic;" class="Ih2E3d"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />7. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-82VOldeRE" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?<wbr>v=l-82VOldeRE</a><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;">they took this one down too! WMG is cracking down!</span><div style="font-style: italic;" class="Ih2E3d"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"><br />8. <a href="http://www.monochrom.at/cracked/music/3electronica.htm" target="_blank">http://www.monochrom.at/<wbr>cracked/music/3electronica.htm</a><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;">i don't have any of those albums.</span><div class="Ih2E3d"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"><br />9.<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/413DNEYHRCL._SL500_AA280_.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 280px;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/413DNEYHRCL._SL500_AA280_.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />that looks so simple, even i could play it! maybe.</span></div><div><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" ><br />10. 2030 videogames</span><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;">i'll still be playing colecovision smurfs.</span></div>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-61245772924170870642009-03-02T10:57:00.000-08:002009-03-02T11:11:05.532-08:00lashingoutloud<span style="font-style: italic;">This one is a short one (and hopefully a placeholder for more) to remind people that the site still exists. Lashingoutloud sent me these a while back and agreed that I could post just these responses until she was done with the rest.</span><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>1. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">brother</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>All of my friends had brothers who would protect them. I had a brother whose maturity level I passed at seven.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"But for now we are young/Let us lay in the sun/And count every beautiful thing we can see" - "In an Aeroplane Over the Sea", Neutral Milk Hotel</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>I had a boy in my life who could play this song on the guitar. I was drunk and he was drunk, and we sat on an air mattress drunk and giggling in his roommate's bedroom and I tried to remember the lyrics while he strummed an out-of-tune guitar. It was one of those "so imperfect that it was perfect" moments. We were young. It was beautiful. I count it.</div><div><br /></div><div>3. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">high school</span></div><div><br /></div><div>I was called a lot of things in high school. Fat, ugly, fat, fat, fat, ugly. Maybe I was just called a few things a lot of times. This is why I’m as frustrating as I am. I look in a mirror and see “ugly fat ugly fat.” I date a boy and assume he sees “ugly fat ugly fat.” I’m insecure and it is an indirect result of high school. I sat alone at lunch. I spent my freshman year of high school never eating in front of anyone and then going home to indulge in Smartfood and Cheetos. Eat and sleep. Eat and sleep. Not until the end of high school did I give a shit about my body – and that was a direct result to what people were saying. I stopped eating 2 family sized bags of Doritos a day – I walked a little more and napped a little less. I made friends (some of whom I still have today). This is all because of my insecurities. I was too insecure to be alone anymore.</div>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-70495803641083247922009-01-13T16:32:00.000-08:002009-01-13T16:34:48.570-08:00Ripple (4)<span style="font-style: italic;">4. the spinning dancer [Mary]<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;">wait to see<br /><br /> curve and rhythm,<br /><br />the body inseparable<br /><br />from the air, the stage falling<br /><br />from beneath to make way for the feet turning<br /><br />on point like the end of a brief and passionate argument<br /><br />when ex-lovers decide<br /><br />to dance<br /><br />once<br /><br />more.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-7626091329994488422009-01-11T18:53:00.000-08:002009-01-11T19:13:22.267-08:00MaryPlease, go and listen to the beautiful music Mary makes with her band The Bewitched <a href="http://www.myspace.com/thebewitched">here.</a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">1. Obama<br /><br /></span>Notes to self:<br /><br />1. obama is not jesus (sidhartha, mohammad)<br /><br />2. a unique opportunity is at hand<br /><br />3. duty is a double-edged sword<br /><br />elated as i am about obama's election, like most adults with some knowledge of history, i'm prudently skeptical of all government officials, even those for whom i've cast my votes. nor can i discount the effects that recent scandals, documented corruption and outright illegal behavior have had on my view of american domestic and global policies and how i respond to what i consider my civic duties.<br /><br />so here i stand with my countrywomen and men, gazing at the mirage-like promise of the next four years while i try to rub the exhaustion and defeat of the bush years from my eyes. how to keep myself in the here and now? how to be realistic and optimistic simultaneously? recall notes 1 -3 above, apply vigorously and repeat.<br /><br />1. obama is not jesus (sidhartha, mohammad)<br /><br />he's an educated, experienced human, fallible, subject to circumstances he can't and shouldn't control and answerable both to those who elected him and those who did not. he's charged with enormous responsibilities, while being limited in his power and he's also, in my mind, the best person for the job of president of the united states. as such, he'll need the cooperation of congress and the public to begin a what is sure to be a lengthy discourse on where we've been and where we're headed. one, i hope, will lead to measurable progress toward a new economic stability, as well as global responsibility.<br /><br />2. a unique opportunity is at hand<br /><br />there's a partisan pile to dig out from under and the diamond is in the roughest state i've ever seen it in, but there appears, in this president-elect and the new congress, a glimmer. some of us use that dangerous word "hope" and suggest we'll have to get down to bare bones if we plan to restore something of our founding ideals and fashion them into a workable vision for this century and beyond. obama thinks we will. and what exactly, idealistically and practically does bare bones look like? obama's not 100% sure (is anyone?) but i'm confident he knows his american history and economic theory well enough to know it won't be easy and there will have to be some fundamental concessions from team red and team blue.<br /><br />obama is well-acquainted with the pros and cons of government influence on commercial interests and to his credit avoids black and white thinking about what can be practically accomplished in the short run. he's also aware we're coming out of an extended period of entrenched partisanship over the laissez faire economic philosophy that is the heart of capitalism and has dominated politically since reagan. at the same time he knows how far behind we've fallen competitively in the global marketplace and without government reinvestment in education, technology and energy we'll continue on a path of bankrupting our stockholders, selling out our children and growing a new population of poor not seen since the great depression. a new system of sharing risks and rewards? wow, what a concept. are we willing to do it? as a u.s. citizen today, and as skeptical as i often am, i want to move forward in a spirit of bipartisanship because i believe the future of the globe depends on it.<br /><br />3. duty is a double-edged sword<br /><br />duty is what compels us to act on what we believe is "right" and can accomplish much that is positive and just. a sense of duty can inspire and motivate us in ways that material rewards cannot. we spring into action on the prompting of duty.<br /><br />duty can also destroy us when in acting on our on beliefs we narrow our thinking to exclude the dutiful actions of others and the beliefs undergirding them. we justify what we do with a moral superiority that blinds us to how we are creeping toward the thing we profess to hate.<br /><br />as a country i think it's important that we do our duty at home and in the world, but before we act, it's imperative to look closely at our motivations and acknowledge what it is that truly sustains us. then we must act courageously to hold our elected officials accountable to their duties. <br /><br />let's have an "a" for audacity and here's to hoping we americans have the heart and the moxie to match obama's. <br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">2. tea with the dead<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span>having taken tea with the dead<br />i can tell you their manners are atrocious<br />the backs of their heads have eyes you don't want to see<br />please, never stand on ceremony<br /><br />they know nothing of mornings<br />soft with green tea honey<br />warm constancy calming their lungs<br />after nights of calling<br />solemn steeping after languid sleeping<br /><br />show them no pity<br />when you offer milk and cup<br />their lips are scorched, they've enough cold talk<br />they want luck with hot black steam in their nostrils<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">3. <a href="http://www.reuters.com/article/oddlyEnoughNews/idUSTRE4BG6UH20081217">Father offers daughter to shoe-thrower</a></span><br /><br />i laughed and threw a few virtual shoes at bush in the days following this incident too.<br /><br />if anything illustrates the magnitude of hatred toward our exiting president, and by extension our country, this does. that a man would offer what he considers of greatest value (that it's his daughter is the subject of another blog) to someone who hurled the ultimate cultural insult at our president may strike reuters as "odd," but to me is very telling of our underestimation of anti-u.s. sentiment and sadly reflects our lack of sensitivity to the perceptions of our world neighbors.<br /><br />this reminds me of "war talk" by arundhati roy. i've returned to this book many times in past five years and much of its foreshadowing chills me particularly now.<br /><br />"Donald Rumsfeld said that his mission in the War Against Terror was to persuade the world that Americans must be allowed to continue their way of life. When the maddened king stamps his foot, slaves tremble in their quarters. So, standing here today, it's hard for me to say this, but The American Way of Life, is simply not sustainable. Because it doesn't acknowledge that there is a world beyond America."<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">4.<br /><br /><div><object width="420" height="339"><param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/x1tlfg"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/x1tlfg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="420" height="339" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"></embed></object><br /><b><a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/x1tlfg">Saul Williams - List of demands</a></b><br /><i>by <a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/didjie">didjie</a></i></div><br /></span><br />i love how this video opens. with the palms of saul's hands moving closer to the camera lens, the lines clearly visible and then they separate and he's in your face!<br /><br />"i've got a list of demands written on the palms of my hands."<br /><br />the demands? they're all for justice ("we're living hand to mouth") and ideals that never came to fruition.<br /><br />they're written on flesh instead of paper because they're ongoing, non-negotiable, and acutely felt.<br /><br />this song was used in a nike commercial awhile back and saul came under fire from some of his fans for "selling out." because he's committed to activism through his art, he argued that the opportunity to have the song heard by a wider audience, and thereby potentially draw more listeners to the body of his work and its message, made it worth the compromise. steadfastness to ideals is admirable, but if the means to the ends aren't working and the message isn't being received, it's time to rethink the means.<br /><br />saul's live show is not to be missed. i got my chance in 2008: <a href="http://www.howwastheshow.com/index.cfm/action/reviews.view/reviewKey/929">http://www.howwastheshow.com/index.cfm/action/reviews.view/reviewKey/929</a><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />5. gothic</span><br /><br />i've been drawn to gothic literature since childhood. anything really that explores our shadow selves, the qualities and impulses we're taught to subjugate, even disown, in favor of the more pleasant, polite and socially sanctioned qualities of our natures.<br /><br />what we seem to be most intolerant of in others are those things we will not accept, or in some cases even acknowledge, about ourselves. accepting doesn't mean we act on these capabilities, of course, but admitting we possess them is liberating and examining their unuttered influence on our outward actions challenges what we've internalized and agreed to without question. it's uncomfortable and necessary if we are to progress as human beings.<br /><br />it fosters tolerance and compassion that we know ourselves to be capable of what we abhor, should our circumstances have been different. and in that recognition comes the first impetus toward justice.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">6.<br />"I come like a woman</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">who I am</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">spreading out through the nights</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">laughter and promise</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">and dark heat</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">warming whatever I touch</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">that is living</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">consuming only</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">what is already dead." - excerpt from<br />"The Women of Dan Dance With Swords in Their Hands to Mark the Time They Were Warriors" by Audre Lorde </span><br /><br />this is a poem of refutation, affirmation and validation.<br />it refutes the parochial views of woman as achilles heal, earth momma and self-sacrificial saint and states with conviction what we actually are: human, unfathomable and deeply aware of an unarticulated past.<br />regarding the last line specifically, the affirmation and validation of our innate power, audre reminds us that our essential selves have immeasurable impact and despite overt acknowledgment our influence continues to gain strength as we subsume the illusory divide.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">7. youth</span><br /><br />on my thirtieth birthday, a colleague 15 years my senior gave me a tee that read "age and treachery will overcome youth and vigor." everyone laughed the knowing cackle of inevitability and the party broke up a early on excuses like, "well, it is a work night."<br /><br />beneath the typical vanity issues, there's a great deal more that frightens and confounds us about age. we let go of more than meets the eye, in order to be "taken seriously" in the game of life. certainly it's desirable and necessary to attain some of our goals, mature emotionally and accept greater responsibilities if we're to become card carrying "grown-ups," but i would suggest that we lose more than we realize by talking to ourselves negatively about age and giving up ways of thinking and behaving we identify as the sole domains of "youth."<br /><br />the way we talk to ourselves in a world of measurement most certainly appears to affect how we feel about our life choices and our ongoing potential for personal fulfillment. from actually saying or merely thinking things like "i'm too old for that" or "come on, don't be ridiculous" to actually giving up formerly enjoyable activities with no real obstacle except a generally accepted belief or a fear of being ostracized, keeps many from personal happiness.<br /><br />so, is aging strictly a biological process? do our beliefs and accompanying choices give rise to what we consider "inevitable" entropy? <br /><br />i view psychological age (how old you feel you are) as much more impactful than its chronological counterpart, and as such, highly subject to our self-talk and attitude. <br /><br />perhaps the wisdom of age is that we are capable of retaining the best aspects of youth (curiosity, adaptability, openness, pursuit of innovation, fitness, etc.) simply by making the choice to continue embracing them. and that's hardly treachery. that's just smart.<br /><br />8. <a href="http://stereogum.com/archives/trent-reznor-upset-his-music-used-to-torture-priso_041132.html">Trent Reznor Upset His Music Used to Torture Prisoners...</a><br /><br />i'm a long time opponent of prisoner torture and government-sponsored prisoner torture is particularly reprehensible. music torture is sub-form of psychological torture and is arguably as devastating, if not more so, than physical torture. <br /><br />an amazing advocacy resource for this issue exists in the center for victims of torture in minneapolis. the cvt web site has tons of useful info for anyone interested in learning more and taking action. here's the cvt page on the effects of psychological torture: <a href="http://www.cvt.org/main.php/Advocacy/TortureisUn-American/EffectsofPsychologicalTorture">http://www.cvt.org/main.php/Advocacy/TortureisUn-American/EffectsofPsychologicalTorture</a><br /><br />for more info on the musician's campaign to end music torture, here's the web site: <a href="http://www.zerodb.org/">http://www.zerodb.org/</a><br /><br />and here's an article/call to action for president-elect obama from the washington post - rejecting the torture legacy: <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/blog/2008/12/03/BL2008120301347.html?hpid=opinionsbox1">http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/blog/2008/12/03/BL2008120301347.html?hpid=opinionsbox1</a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">9. "Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent." - Victor Hugo</span><br /><br />i think this is why music affects us as profoundly and widely as it does and why it has the ability to alter minds and hearts in a way that is more inclusive than linguistics. the range of emotional content that seems otherwise inexpressible (or at least very difficult to convey) has another "language" with which to communicate itself (and this is true of painting, dance, photography also).<br /><br />i would add that no one vehicle of expression has the ability to convey all that an individual is.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">10. muffin<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span>dear muffins,<br /><br />feed your muffins these yummy, um, muffins. <br /><br />sweet potato muffins (these are great on a cold winter evening with soup and salad)<br /><br /> 1/2 cup all purpose flour<br /> 1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour<br /> finely grated sweet potato (about 2 small/med. sweet potatoes or 8 oz. if you use a kitchen scale)<br /> 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder<br /> 1/2 teaspoon baking soda<br /> 1/2 teaspoon salt<br /> 1 cup grated cheddar cheese (you can adjust slightly if you like them a bit cheesier and mix yellow and white cheddars too, but don't waste your drier english and irish cheddars, save those for the cheese board) <br /> 1/3 cup olive oil<br /> 1 egg, lightly beaten<br /> 3/4 cup buttermilk<br /> 2 teaspoons fresh sage, minced<br /> Salt and pepper to taste<br /><br />peel and grate sweet potatoes. set aside.<br /><br />in a large bowl, gently whisk together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, minced fresh sage and salt. use a wooden spoon and add the sweet potato and cheese. combine, then make a well in the center.<br /><br />Preheat oven to 350 degrees. lightly brush muffin tin with olive oil.<br /><br />in a small bowl combine olive oil, egg and buttermilk with a whisk and pour into the well and mix until just combined for a thick batter. spoon batter into prepared muffin tins one tablespoon at a time, dividing the batter evenly among the muffin molds.<br /><br />if using a jumbo tin, bake for 35 minutes, raising the temperature to 400 degrees during the last 4 minutes. if using a regular sized muffin tin, bake for 25 minutes, raising the temperature to 400 degrees during the last 4 minutes. keep an eye on the muffins after you've raised the temperature to prevent over-browning. muffins are done when light golden. cool for at least 5 minutes before removing them from the tin. if cooling for longer than 5 minutes, move to a cooling rack to avoid soggy bottoms. served warm is best.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-1159657847092747842008-12-28T08:40:00.000-08:002008-12-28T08:54:27.050-08:00Ripple (3)<span style="font-style: italic;">3. "Whatever I know, I know it without words." - from The Serpent, The Open Theatre [Beth]</span><br /><br />Hard, for me. Words are everything. I think in words, in narratives and phrases. When I see an image or hear music, my first impulse is to attach words to it. I connect to other people in words.<br /><br />Sometimes, I think I would be a lot more honest without words. A lot braver. If instead of trying to express something, I just did it. But it is all that I know.<br /><br />This:<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gyvhpVuPRRg&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gyvhpVuPRRg&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-11652643514547591262008-12-26T17:07:00.000-08:002009-02-01T15:07:12.911-08:00Beth<span style="font-style: italic;">Note: More of Beth's life and art (or life as art) can be found <a href="http://bethhommel.com/">here</a>. You can also purchase some of her beautiful photographs, including the one in #5, so go check it out.<br /><br />1. Sarah Kane<br /><br /></span>Sarah Kane. Sarah Kane killed herself at age 28. I have her complete plays. There are five and they are increasingly brilliant and heartbreakingly on the brink of sanity.<br /><br />Sarah Kane wrote Blasted at 23. At 23 I was smoking too many clove cigarettes and playing at being A Serious Artist.<br /><br />At 28 I will not be writing works of theatrical brilliance. I will also not be hanging myself in an asylum bathroom with borrowed shoelaces.<br /><br />I directed one of her plays in college. We referred to her as "Sarah.". We got to know her. We had one of those only in academia rehearsal processes where we covered a wall with images of rape survivors and anorexics on the brink of death and suicide bombers and child beauty queens and the little girl running naked after the bombing of Hiroshima. We had a rehearsal process with the secrecy of FIght Club. We started every day by reporting our highs and lows.<br /><br />I was fucking one of my actors and desperately in love with another. It was all terribly complicated. I'd found a bunch of broken, misfit toys and I was queen. My professor came to watch midway through the process and took me aside to sternly say, "Beth, theatre should not be therapy."<br /><br />I disagreed with him. I think it's sometimes the best therapy there is.<br /><br />The production was a huge success. A year and a half and 45 miles away, a girl came up to me and hugged me and told me she had never been so affected by a play in her life.<br /><br />I am significantly crazier now that I am not making theatre.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">2. to unlock<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span></span>To set free. Possibility. Hope. Power.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">3.<br /><br /><embed id="VideoPlayback" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=-8940173239560902268&hl=en&fs=true" style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed> </span><span><br /><br />There is no other artist (pair of artists) in the world who get people to CALL LOVED ONES during a show so they can be serenaded. That's something I love about Amanda. There's so much unexpected and joyful that happens at her shows.<br /><br />This clip is from before I was part of Team AFP. Now when I see videos on YouTube, more often than not I go "Oh, right... I was there, just to the left of the frame." And there's a lot of warmth in those thoughts. Being part of something meaningful. They're off-key (and it seems a little drunk) but this is meaningful. I actually remember watching a video of this, maybe even this video, a few days before I went to the New Year's Eve show last year. It's amazing and a little unsettling to think of the girl I was then, watching this video and tearing up while thinking about who I'd call. (The tearing up was because the only person I could think to call was my very recent ex.) I remember wanting so to be a part of the experience that audience was having. Of course, now I'm at many, many shows and I'm still not a part of that experience. I am slowly accepting the fact that I don't go to the party, I help throw the party, and it's a totally different thing. Beautiful in its own way, but not the same. But sometimes I wade out into the middle of the crowd and let their energy crush me and bring me back different. Those moments remind me who I was.<br /><br />I wish Amanda would let her hair grow out like that again.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br />4. "My portraits are more about me than the people I photograph." - Richard Avedon<br /><br /></span><span>Yes. This.<br /><br />The way I feel about someone translates in my photographs of them. I can't make a beautiful photograph of someone I don't find to be beautiful. This is why in awful at shoot for hire... There's no time in those situations to know the person, to find the beauty.<br /><br />Beauty evolves for me. I met an extraordinarily beautiful woman, but as I got to know her, I found her to be cold and distant. She became less attractive to me. I found it difficult to shoot her.<br /><br />It works the other way. I met a girl who was initially only vaguely pretty, or perhaps even plain, but as I got to know her I found more and more beauty. She had a lot of teeth, or, rather, showed a lot of teeth when she laughed. I fell a little in love with her. By the time I shot her, she was all beauty, and it showed in the photos. A mutual acquaintance told me he'd never seen what I'd seen, but the photos were unmistakably her, and in them she was unquestionably beautiful.<br /><br />But my photography is about interaction with my subject. Its a collaboration and I rarely try to make a person appear as they are not. They bring themself and I do my best to see them through the distortions of my own perception.<br /><br />I remember, years ago, showing a series of photographs I'd done of a girl I knew to a friend of mine. They were simple portraits. He looked for a few moments and then looked me in the eye and said, "You're gay, aren't you? And you're in love with her."<br /><br />Yes. And yes, I was.<br /><br />I find often that the more complicated my feelings for someone are, the more interesting the photographs I take of them.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><br /><br /><br />5.<br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3248/2986283263_0364f0f41c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 374px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3248/2986283263_0364f0f41c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is love. I took this photograph more than five years ago. That's not the ocean... it's the roof of an abandoned car dealership. You can see a frying pan in the water. I'm surprised the girls didn't get the hiv being in there in their bare feet. The blonde, incidentally, still lives in Pittsburgh. Her name is Meg. I invited her to the show and she showed up while I was selling merch at the Vermillion Lies table. She took my hand and smiled and I looked at her and said, "I'm sorry, where do we know each other from?" I was so in "work" brain... when I'm on the road, sometimes people come up to me and hug me and I have to ask where we met and they tell me "Oh, we met in City!" and sometimes I remember them. Sometimes I don't. So Meg showed up at the table and smiled and grabbed my hand and my brain just misfired. She responded, "... Beth?!" and I said, "Oh! I know you from the fact that we've been friends for SIX YEARS."<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />6. tattoo<br /><br />1st response: </span></span><span><span>Reminder. Permanant post-it note. Often come in dreams, frequently full of symbolism.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">2nd response: </span><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ81mUmcCUc8wVAglSGbnJzvGEjX3i8cCrQswS7wq8W4STVbiNOzfaQfzV8K7lEDKMO8Z6FrIeyfygRZGnxpxmK351aavujqbZihkVhny3ntpMNaDaNvqzzX_DbNJT_A_Cd9U2iooBzB2W/s1600-h/pastedGraphic.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ81mUmcCUc8wVAglSGbnJzvGEjX3i8cCrQswS7wq8W4STVbiNOzfaQfzV8K7lEDKMO8Z6FrIeyfygRZGnxpxmK351aavujqbZihkVhny3ntpMNaDaNvqzzX_DbNJT_A_Cd9U2iooBzB2W/s320/pastedGraphic.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284274511810729554" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">7.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/f67_og3v_Ow&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/f67_og3v_Ow&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /></span>It's a choose your own adventure! But real emos don't have girlfriends. We suffer alone in our rooms.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />8. your mom, me, some exotic fruits, and a tub full of Jello<br /></span></span><br />A recipe for a super-hot Thursday night. Obviously.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />9. balance<br /><br /></span></span>Complicated. I am a girl of too much. <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;">10. "I think most people who maintain blogs are doing it for the same reasons I do: they like the idea that there's a place where a record of their existence is kept -- a house with an always-open door where people who are looking for you can check on you, compare notes with you and tell you what they think of you. Sometimes that house is messy, sometimes horrifyingly so. In real life, we wouldn't invite any passing stranger into these situations, but the remove of the Internet makes it seem O.K."<br />- <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/25/magazine/25internet-t.html?pagewanted=2&_r=1">Emily Gould</a></span><br /><br />For me, my blog is 100% about connection with other human beings. I love being able to say, "This is my experience" and have ten people reply, "Yes! I identify with that, but I do it this way." I like dialogue. I love communication.<br /><br />It's a huge sign of trust for me to let people see my actual messy apartment. My blog-mess... I go back and forth. I definitely have started only showing parts of the house. It used to be I showed the whole house, but only to my friends. Now I show everything but the bedroom and the attic to everyone. Friends get to see the bedroom. No one goes in the attic unless we are face to face and very drunk.<br /><br />Showing either kind of mess to people makes me feel very vulnerable. But I do it. I can't not be honest in my blog. It's a diary where I vent, it's a forum where I keep friends and family up to date, and it's a place where I can go to say things I think are important for other people to know. Being less than open is insulting to the people who read it. If they care enough to read my blog, I should be brave enough to give them something Real.<br /><br />This is the messiest I've ever been on the internet. I posted this video to my blog a little over a year ago. People agreed that it's either hilarious or heartbreaking. I think it's probably both... it is definitely Real, though:<br /><embed id="VideoPlayback" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=5300449592727092443&hl=en&fs=true" style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-19354753977431800262008-12-26T06:46:00.000-08:002008-12-26T07:05:38.315-08:00Ripple (2)<span style="font-style: italic;">2. Familiarity [Audrey]</span><br /><br />When you begin to recognize someone’s smell, their walk, their laugh. They become an unspoken part of your world. I rarely recognize the beginning, and am surprised at the end to find that without a particular person the air around me is incredibly different.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span>I know you,<br />you who are<br />a part of me,<br />like the wind<br />is a part of the leaves<br />gliding.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-67184682147242433742008-12-24T19:39:00.000-08:002008-12-25T04:07:11.855-08:00Audrey<span style="font-style: italic;">Note: See Audrey's beautiful art, including the painting below in number 7, <a href="http://mrleavemealone.deviantart.com">here</a>. See the personal website she's doing with a friend <a href="www.thiscouldbegreat.tk">here</a>.<br /><br />1. friendship</span><br /><br />Friendship is something I seem to struggle continuously with. The longest I have ever lived in one place is 3 years, the shortest, about 6 months. Usually it's around a year or so. And we don't just move across town, we move to different states, different countries... So my friends always change. I'm disorganised and I used to lose all the phone numbers and addresses I collected. I have had to just forget about people so many times. With e-mails and instant messenger, it's easier, but I still lose details and things. My best friend lives in Australia and our friendship started with me kicking him in the nuts. Which is a great way to start anything, isn't it? I think that really set the tone for it, though. I have put him through a lot and he is incredibly accepting of almost everything I do. Moving around so much as a child and a teenager and never having that one group of friends who are for a while has made me really awkward and it's wonderful knowing that there is someone who knows me so well and still loves me for what I am.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">2.</span><br /><br /><object height="295" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/I9aa-xSRvsk&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/I9aa-xSRvsk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="295" width="480"></embed></object><br /><br />That was kind of weird. What I got out of it was that the moth was the spirit of the bunny's dead husband. Or wife. I couldn't tell if it was a male or female. And they went and joined them in some form of afterlife. I'm not sure if I believe in an afterlife. I was big into Christianity at one point. When I was 12, I managed to sit in front of a poster that said 'GOD' and had a rainbow behind it, just thinking about God for well over an hour. I don't understand how anything in the world can convince a 12 year old do sit and think for such a long time. I believed in an afterlife then, of course. I'm not sure what I believed Heaven or Hell to be, but it wasn't glowing lights. Death is something I try not to dwell on. I remember having an existential crisis (but not actually knowing what one was) when I was about 9. I didn't sleep for weeks after. Right now, it's just something that happens that I don't want to think about. I want to 'live in the moment' and all that. When it happens, it happens. I cannot change that and I am okay with that. Yeah, it does scare me and yeah, there will always be more things I want to do... Sometimes I just need to take a deep breath and say to myself 'if it happens, it happens.' I can't see myself ever having a firm believe on what comes after.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">3. <a href="http://www.informationweek.com/news/internet/web2.0/showArticle.jhtml?articleID=212501930">NORAD Tracking Santa Claus With Google Maps</a></span><br /><br />That's kind of lovely. That they put so much work in keeping that belief alive in children. I can't remember believing in Santa, but apparently I did. I remember one of my brothers becoming horribly upset when one of his friends told him that he didn't believe in Santa. When I was little, I can vaguely remember being told that the Santas we were meant to take photos with were actually costumed elves, because Santa couldn't be everywhere. I suppose that in a way, that is true, because the elves are Santa's helpers, right? And these people are kiiind of helping to keep Santa alive. Is this beginning to sound tacky? I am writing this at 1am on Christmas Day, so I think it's bound to happen. Haha.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">4. body piercings</span><br /><br />Body piercings are important to me. I, at the moment, have a navel piercing, a nose piercing, a lip piercing and several ear piercings. I have also pierced the ears of a few of my family members. Most of my piercings have come from quick decisions. I got my navel piercing because my mother asked if I wanted one and I said yes. An hour later, I had it. I had been talking about getting my lip piercing for a while before it, but never intended on going through with it until the appointment was actually booked. My piercings are a part of my appearance that I decided on. They aren't my nose or my eyes, the appearance of which I had no say in. I am not offended if someone else doesn't like them in the same way I am if someone doesn't like my face. I chose them, I love them. If someone else doesn't, fine. I still do. They aren't me trying to be an individual, so many other people have the same things. They are something I liked and wanted to add to myself. I feel like I look wrong without them. My mum says I look like a little girl without them.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">5. journal</span><br /><br />I have kept a journal since I was pretty young. It all started when I read an article on the fact that keeping a journal benefits your health. I feel a lot less stressed after I've written down the things buzzing around in my head. Sometimes it helps me sleep. When I am keeping a journal, I need to feel comfortable with it. With the book, that is. I can't write everything down in a book I don't trust. Sometimes I will write a bit in a book, realise it's the wrong book, rip out the journal pages and use it for drawing in. I give my journals away after I fill them up. I give them to people I love and people who I want to remember me. Sometimes it's a way of closing a chapter. If I've been somewhere a while and I know I'm leaving, I will give the journals to whoever has been through the most with me there. Normally I do it in groups, giving the lucky recipient 3 or 4 journals or notebooks or sketchbooks. Whatever I can use to show them that they made an impact on my life and, I guess, as a memento of that point in time.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">6. “If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?” – Alice, Alice in Wonderland</span><br /><br />Oh wow. My brain hurts!!! I think real life is like this, sometimes. Haha. There is always a different side to things and sometimes when you look at the two together, you have two different things. Even though it's one thing. And if you look close enough at most things, they tend to stop making sense pretty, eventually.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">7. </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://th06.deviantart.com/fs38/300W/f/2008/358/f/a/Half_Face_Thing__by_mrleavemealone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 356px;" src="http://th06.deviantart.com/fs38/300W/f/2008/358/f/a/Half_Face_Thing__by_mrleavemealone.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />This is a painting I did for my mother... I usually only do half a face or a profile when I paint faces. This is out of laziness. And fear, actually. I am always scared I will get the other half wrong...Although faces aren't symmetrical anyway. I guess I am just not that confident about these things. This painting had brown paint water flicked at it so it has spots from that, which is sad. You can't see that in the photo because the photo was taken before it happened!<br />I like the background on this and I remember painting it and enjoying painting it. I love it when colours come out strong and thick and I love it when the edges of each stroke are clean and straight. I love painting. I love the idea that we can use images we've created ourselves to put across emotions and make people feel things that they might not have felt before. I don't really like watercolour paint, which is what that one is mostly done in, but for some reason, it's sometimes the only thing I have access to<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">8. “leave me alone”</span><br /><br />Mr. Leave Me Alone is a username I use in two places on the internet. I don't like being left alone. Sometimes I do, we all need time alone sometimes. But there are few things I like more than having someone next to me to talk to or even just to know that they are there. I like people. I tend to be quite impolite towards other people, but I do like them. I like noise and I like looking at things and I like response. I tend to gravitate towards people who dress weirdly or have strange stories or things to say. Or both. I like to talk a lot and that would be boring if I were alone! When I start writing, I write a lot (as I may or may not have shown here) and when I find someone I like talking to, I send them long messages. Sometimes I call them. I try my very best to keep them in my life.<br />I don't really want to be left alone.<br /><br />9.<br /><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://static.reuters.com/resources/flash/include_video.swf?edition=US&videoId=95921" height="346" width="422"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><param name="movie" value="http://www.reuters.com/resources/flash/include_video.swf?edition=US&videoId=95921"><embed src="http://www.reuters.com/resources/flash/include_video.swf?edition=US&videoId=95921" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="346" width="422"></embed></object><br /><br />Ohhhhhh boy. What is the world coming to, where people wish to smell like fast food? Each to their own, I suppose. Maybe it's like when it was found out that some people found the (hopefully faint) smell of sweat more attractive than perfume or deodorant? Maybe some people find burgers even MORE attractive than that.<br />But then, hopefully not.<br />Hopefully it's all about the novelty value.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">10. “it’s so polite, it’s so polite, it’s offensive, it’s offensive, it’s so unright, it’s so unright, it’s a technical accept it” – “Leeds United”, Amanda Palmer</span><br /><br />I don't have anything to say about those exact lyrics, but rather the full song. I hold that song pretty close to my heart. I got to be in the music video and that was a truly wonderful experience. I accidentally turned up in an 'Alice In Wonderland' costume. A blue dress and a black headband, basically. And I had long blonde hair. It was a lovely accident. I didn't realise it looked like an 'Alice' thing until someone else pointed it out. I have heard 'Leeds United' countless times and I never get tired of it. When I listen to it, I want to jump around and dance. I don't...But I want to. Amanda came to London to film this video and she invited us, the lucky fans, to play soccer with her. And be in her music video. I met wonderful people on both occasions. I have new friends. I am about 10 times happier than I was before any of these things happened. I feel like I am a part of something.Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-75408248835525918012008-12-21T14:46:00.000-08:002008-12-21T15:13:02.956-08:00Ripple (1)<span style="font-style: italic;">Note: For every ten items that I give someone, I ask them to send me one they'd like me to answer to back. I was planning on waiting until I have ten of my own to post, but this might prevent overlap between what people send me and also I tend to write a lot, so it might prevent my entries from being 20 pages long.<br /><br />1) poetry or the What [Kovacs]<br /><br /></span>I think the two are definitely connected, so I’ll answer both. Kovacs is referring to the book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/What-Vintage-Dave-Eggers/dp/0307385906/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1229901104&sr=8-1">What is the What</a> by Dave Eggers, something we both read/are reading. First of all, everyone should read that book, but also balance it out with something light, because it is some heavy shit.<br /><br />Without going into a big summary, my impression of what the What is, is the Dream or the Unknown… something you don’t have right in front of you that you covet or work towards. Like any dream, this means it can be both inspiring and motivational or it can be entirely destructive.<br /><br />Sometimes, I have a dream of running away from my life, opening a bookstore, and writing poetry until I die. Is this type of dream productive? I mean, it motivates me to keep writing, but it also keeps me unsatisfied from what I am currently doing, which is a pretty good occupation in itself.<br /><br />Poetry is in some ways my What. I live for the perfect poem, either written by myself, or more often by someone else – something that captures exactly what I am feeling and desiring in a few words.<br /><br />I saw this quote in NYT today by Philip Seymour Hoffman which pretty much captured how I feel about poetry:<br /><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/21/magazine/21hoffman-t.html"><br />“But that deep kind of love comes at a price: for me, acting is torturous, and it’s torturous because you know it’s a beautiful thing. I was young once, and I said, That’s beautiful and I want that. Wanting it is easy, but trying to be great — well, that’s absolutely torturous.”</a><br /><br /><br />I went through a period of time, from middle school to my senior year of high school, where I hated any poetry I wrote and I wrote very little. I thought I was writing poetry out of laziness, and it’s true, some of my crappier poems are because I can’t be bothered or don’t have the control and patience to write in paragraph form. I then took a Creative Writing class senior year, and it was one particular poem I wrote that my teacher told me was better than anything he had ever written, that really sent me on my way.<br /><br />I got to respect the poem as being this form where you try to say everything without saying too much. You get rid of all the extraneous crap and you try to figure out what is at the core of whatever image or feeling you are trying to get across. For someone like me, who tends to write and say way too much, that type of restraint – allowing some things to be left unsaid – is what makes poetry beautiful and incredibly difficult.<br /><br />I’d say about 95% of what I write is crap, and I say that sort of objectively. I was on the editorial board of the oldest lit mag at my college and during selections (where authors were anonymous) I would regularly get to see my poems ripped apart or worse, basically ignored. It taught me that I have flashes of good writing, but most of it can’t stand up in the real world. It humbled me. And it frustrates me continuously to recognize what beautiful is and not be able to achieve it, just as Hoffman said. But that 5% or less where I’m almost there—that’s the reason I try to write a poem at least every few days.<br /><br />But I guess my larger What, and why I’m in my current job is because I’m fascinated by the human mind. I mean, how could you not be? We love, yet we kill… we remember, yet we make the same mistakes… we create, yet we destroy… all of it is beautiful and boggles my own little mind, and the fact that I am allowed to play with a very small piece of that very, very large puzzle is something I am very thankful for. It pushes me to go to work everyday and it pushes me to examine my own thinking and to write.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4206249284681716474.post-9528059780737379172008-12-17T18:34:00.000-08:002008-12-22T09:42:43.449-08:00Kovacs<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Note: Kovacs' photography can be found here: </span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mswor" target="_blank">http://www.flickr.com/photos/mswor</a>. <span style="font-style: italic;">Go check it out!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></span></span></span><br /><br />1) photography<br /><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span">Release, guilt, frustration, passion, peace, zen, trepedation, work. Taking pictures takes the turmoil in my life and exemplifies it. I adore the act of taking a shot, looking at it, and feeling like you captured a moment, something unique, that you added to the art of the situation. I hate carrying around a camera, being noticed because of it, and taking pictures of people that don't want them taken. Being in front of the lens makes me extremely uncomfortable.<br /><br />The best part of photography for me is going through the shots, finding what I like, and finishing them up. That's when it's all worth it, when I feel like what I did had value further than just the act of creation.<br /><br />Release - It's something to do and think about, it keeps me busy.<br />Guilt - I still feel like part of it is work, and put off doing it because of this. I want to be drawn to it all the time, but it doesn't work that way. And I feel like I should be learning more about it, to increase what I can do, and make things easier.<br />Frustration - Knowing that there is so, so much more I could be doing if my drive was focused on it. Knowing that 90% of the shot is getting out and grabing it. Feeling the drive ebb and flow when I just want it to be constant.<br />Passion - There are moments where it possesses me, and I let it.<br />Peace - I can look up after capturing a shot and feel like I accomplished something. This doesn't happen with very many of the pictures I take, yet.<br />Zen - In Yellowstone, and during shows, I think about nothing but the photography. It's nothing-space.<br />Trepedation - Due to not being schooled, and having to carry the camera around like some sort of trophy, I get very cautious.<br />Work - Some of it does feel like work. And that sucks. But I suppose not very many things are all play, regardless of how you feel about them.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">2) “Happiness is a how; not a what. A talent, not an object.” – Herman Hesse</span><br /><br />Hesse was troubled. But correct by all accounts. He states the complexity better than I ever could. Wanting a certain thing to make you happy, never works, for long. That's why goals are so important...they aren't always a specific thing, but a state of being. You don't want the camera, you want the skills and body of work, the mindset...and the camera.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>However, he does make it seem like you can make yourself happy (a talent, a how) which I disagree with. Life goes up and down, to make yourself happy all the time is futile. I'd argue for an appreciation of sadness, in equal amounts. I wouldn't call it a talent, I'd call it an...outlook? Phase? Mindset? Something that you can create, but can be fleeting at any given moment. A muse? <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />3)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0JF03i7NfIU&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0JF03i7NfIU&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />Right now all that means to me is four years wasted. I'm going through withdrawal and don't want to talk about it. The thought of where my life would be without that game existing...well that not only ignores my own personal responsibility towards it, making me frustrated, but presents a potentially drastic difference in where I am in life currently, which eats at me.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>I feel like I have a long way to go in coming to terms with those years and moving forward.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>...Blood Elves are pretty prissy though. Roll a female, they're hawt.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />4) chicken recipe</span><br /><br />All of these seem to pertain to me in one sense or another, and I have no idea how this one does. I'm pretty sure I've forgotten, which is embarrassing. I tend to lie when this happens in person, though it used to happen a lot more during my drinking days. <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>When I was a kid, we had chicken 4-5 times a week. It's cheap, and can be made in so many different ways. I have a distinct memory of my mom showing up at the local pool and showing me her new cookbook, 101 ways to cook chicken. In the pool, I at first mock played dead because I was certain it said "children". I think I then proceeded to brood on chicken always being a part of my life, and what I can do to change that. In a fun way though.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>I'm constructed of chicken.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>...needless to say, I don't eat it much anymore. <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />5) Sara Quin</span><br /><br />Oh, Sara. Though my feelings towards that band was complicated in general, as of now the feeling is pure and clean, which I like. It took me a while to get to that point.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>To expound upon that, briefly, because it's fucking embarrassing. Hearing the Con sent me into a 4-day depression. Lame, right? I wish I could chose what moves me. Some of the songs on there are heart-breaking, and somehow compounded into forcing me to take a look at my relationship actions/goals (i.e. none, see number 3). That along with career/life goals (I needed to have more art in my life, and socially am hanging out with the wrong people, all drawn from that album and band) created huge turmoil. I guess I'm grateful, but I truely feel like I havent been myself since. I know, deep down, that the album was a catylyst, and this wouldve happened sooner or later. And that it's what needed to happen, and that it's always changing month to month, leading towards something. But its still embarrassing. Fucking let me be moved by poetry, it's more respectable.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>Sara Quin is awesome, for a few distinct reasons. She's hilarious. She's adorable. She reads a fuckton of books, which by default makes her a beautiful blogger/writer when she wants to be. And she's progressing musically. Like right now. At this second. The difference between her songs on If it Was You versus the Con is insane. Tegan's are the same album to album. Sara's are changing, and I can't wait to see what she comes up with next. Her career, like Amanda Palmers, I will probably follow until I'm 50. When you develop an affection for the artist as well as the art, loyalty sets in, and for me, it's solid.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>Plus, she's one of the few rock stars that I feel like I could actually hang out with, after getting over the shock, and don't feel like I'd be at all creepy. Most of the artists I have rock-crushes on, I know that I would never actually interact with very well in person. She's different, and would be a great friend. Or wingwoman.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />6) “Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.” – Neil Gaiman </span><br /><br />Perfection. And with me believing every word he says, truthfully, totally, completely...all I want to do is get love over with. Fall for someone totally, focus on that, and don't let it hurt me ever again. Shelter.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />7) dance party</span><br /><br />If I'm dancing, and I'm sober, I am truely at one with the universe. The act of dancing almost has nothing to do with it. It's the release of saying "I really, honestly, could give a fuck what everyone thinks" and believing it. Because you can't dance and have a good time unless you do, fact.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>I can think of one time when this happened, at least recently. But I can't wait for it to happen again.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>And in terms of drunken dancing, the first thing that came to mind was the stripper pole we used to have installed in our house, and an impromtu dance party to foreigner at 4 am, in complete blackness. Documented by photography, meaning nothing but dark until the flashes went off. Another memory is the numerous dance parties held at the karaokee bar, now burnt down. These things have their merits. But more as a way of canceling out regrets later on in life. I'll never be able to say I didn't party like a rock star, thats for sure.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />8. to engineer</span><br /><br />To want to know how everything works. And to get pleasure in figuring it out. To a certain extent, for me, an adoration of pushing buttons. It does not mean that I'm smarter than you though, world, so stop being a fucking dick and assuming as such when I tell you what I do. Honestly, don't make me immediately self-depreciate to put us on the same percieved level. Just realize exactly how many different kinds of intelligence there are, and you're ranking one far too high. <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />9) Proposition 8</span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.jointheimpact.com/">http://www.jointheimpact.com</a><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>I found out about most of the issue through TnS, and love that fact that it inspired me. It's not my fight, and I know this, so I keep my distance to a certain extent. But it's such a clear cut violation of human rights, it's easy to get behind. I don't take one side, ever, I see both sides, constantly. Not here, and that's how you know it's fucking wrong, world. If you want my opinion, which you do.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>Yeah, lets oppress love, because we find a certain lifestyle icky. Good plan. <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>If it continues to face opposition in other areas (such as the courts), I'll contribute more to fighting it. As of now I'm happy to have been a small part, and gotten into the conversations I've gotten into.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />10)</span> <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2008/12/16/us/AP-ODD-Hitler-Cake.html" target="_blank">http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2008/12/16/us/AP-ODD-Hitler-Cake.html</a><br /><br />Claiming ignorance is funny. No one can truely, effectively, completely claim that you're lying. But his other kid is named "Aryan Nation". I mean. He's surprised at the uproar? He's like some sort of highly repressed racist. Or the definition of extrordinarily passive-aggressive. Like he's going to donate to a temple then name his next kid Sean Kill All Jews.<br /><div style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ripplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317138123643048820noreply@blogger.com0