You know about my travel-troubles already. Flew to airports 6 times- went nowhere (fast), and it took two days.
The net effect of my traveling and time was, effectively, this:
No control, no certainty of where I'd be moved next: I felt like a puppet!
Don't be scared of the above: it's not more recent Lee Perry; it is from before his brain was crushed up like apple sauce by too many drugs. Back when it was merely drug-fueled and still runnin' smooth. So it's not all WayFuzzDubMush, but just way pleasant, sunny day, grin-music. Like Modern Lovers, sort of, some of it. But of course, ol' reggae stylee.
(Oh, obviously I mean it's like Modern Lovers in feel, not really in sound. Jonathon Richman will do Calypso songs sometimes, but that is a different Caribbean beast altogether, innit?)
Turbonegro are a sorta punk, sorta metal band. I just got into them recently, but supposedly they have 8 albums. (That's more than you.) This is how the lead singer typically performs: (With that physique, you might be forgiven for being surprised that he didn't die BEFORE Betty Page...) They are somewhat daffy, but it stays fun and doesn't get old. Partly because, musically, they are way rad. But even the lyrics, which are where the tomfoolery enters into it, rarely are straight-up stupid. Turbonegro are daffy in that they talk about sex and coke and erections (independent of sex- see below) and "ROK und ROLL" and ask questions like "Do you do you Dig Destruction?" (to which they answer "Latino lovers often do" ???). They obviously aren't taking it all so very seriously, but they aren't in it just to joke either. So when, in "I Got Erection", they say:
"Every time I walk down the street - Erection - When I think of blood I think of love - Erection - When I set a house on fire - Erection - When I dig a hole in the ground - Erection - When I hear that death punk sound- Erection"
they are probably mostly joking. But when they say that 'Turbonegro Hate The Kids' (you know, 'the kids'), I get the feeling that they mean it.
They played at Madison Square Garden a little while ago, which is a slightly odd venue for them. And, slightly related: when uploading "(I Fucked) Betty Page" (click to download), A pop-up ad informed me that The Hold Steady (who I don't know about, but am sure that they are "The Kids" and very dumb and bad and all that) and their tour are sponsored by Duracell. they are sponsored by the Pink Rabbit!
This is why we all need bands like TURBONEGRO, by the way. Well, one more for the road- and I promise, you all will like this song; it has homoeroticism, international travel, the bars of "New York, New York" (they call it that because they are from Norway, by the way).
It's been a while, hasn't it. Chomping at the bit again, I'm sure. Here's a 'your new favorite song' to hold you over until I drop some serious mixes *plop* right in your lap.
There are about 5 in post-production right now (all in the "AMX" series which I mentioned); a long-finished mix called "Pretty Pretty Songs" that even a grizzled homeless guy would like; and a more recently accomplished mix in a series called "SHOWER JAMZ!" (yes, it must be in all caps- you'll grasp the enormity of it all, which requires decisive use of graphic effects, in not too long).
Oh, Ricky Nelson. You used to be a heartthrob, back when that meant something. Yes, you had your version of Youth Rock. Very white, very innocent, very fun.
A friend of mine fell off a scooter. She's okay, but she did injure her
coccyx.
It's not funny.
Also not funny is how good Wilson Pickett is.
R I G H T ?? !! ?? (I tell you, I am not one bit joking when I say: my grandfather has the exact same suit. He wore it to my high school graduation, and damn, if he didn't look sharp.)
This is an album I picked up a while ago. Again, it came from the Second Mile thrift; not too surprising, since the album before this one was called "Wilson Pickett in Philadelphia" (it was produced here by Gamble and Huff). That probably helped him gain a little more regional recognition.
"Don't Knock My Love", on the other hand, took him back to his ruts (that's "roots", pronounced Southern Style) - it was produced at the famous Muscle Shoals Studios.
When I first put on this record, I'll admit that I thought it a little slick.
I don't know what the hell I was thinking, because it's in fact more than a lil' gritty. Maybe it was the suit that threw me (the suit above, obviously: that's the cover of the record of which I speak). Well, as Wilson himself told me, You Can't Judge A Book By Its Cover.mp3 (download).
Yeeeeuh... another mix, matched so mean! This one is the originally planned mix for The Second (Secular) Coming: this one deals not with my colossal narcissism, but rather with the purity of spirit which is my Divinity Proper. HELL YES!
As a mix, it moves from slow-burning but intense/driven (1-3), to sprawling dirty grandeur (4-5), quietism without passivity (6-8), a darkness (9-11) pefiguring The End and Resurrection (12-13). Quite a history here...
Here is the cast of characters, in the order in which you ought to listen to them: 1 Eternity Is Here *The Gun Club* Danse Kalinda Boom 2 Coded Language *Krust (Featuring Saul Williams)* Coded Language 3 The Prophet *The Make-Up* Untouchable Sound—Live 4 Revelations *Panthers* The Trick 5 Dead Souls *Joy Division* Permanent 6 My Body Is A Cage *The Arcade Fire* Neon Bible 7 City Of Refuge [Acoustic Version] *Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds* B-Sides And Rarities Volume I 8 Be Thankful For What You've Got (orignially by Devaughn - live cover) *Yo La Tengo* 9 Death To Everyone *Bonnie "Prince" Billy* I See A Darkness 10 Share the Fall *Roni Size and Reprazent (Grooverider's RMX)* 11 I Swear *Tulipomania* 12 Back *Alpha* Come From Heaven 13 I Am The Resurrection *The Stone Roses* The Complete Stone Roses
Share the Fall- sparse and epic. Like Fitzgerald, as 'read to me' (i.e. quoted) by Deleuze: "twilight on a deserted range, with an empty rifle in my hands and the targets down. No problem set — simply a silence with only the sound of my own breathing." The sound of a faraway, lifeless planet: it bakes during the day and it freezes at night.
Body is a Cage: Church organs, giving the grand sweep, the operatic heights, appropriate to the Declaration of Divinity.
Eternity is Here: Once started, this song begins to instantly, insistently proclaim itself. Whipcrack drums, plaintive guitars. Its insistence is almost a prosyletizing.
Death to Everyone: see the cover for a picture of the aforementioned planet.
Lyrically, this songs does this: "Stars turn, balls burn / Coming kids are raging
Death to everyone is gonna come / And it makes hosing much more fun"
"So strap me on and raise me high / Cause buddy I'm not afraid to die But life is long and it's tremendous / And we're glad that you're here with us".
Dead Souls- Joy Division made this song, which later was covered by NIN (on "The Crow" Soundtrack). You know what this one sounds like. It sounds like JoyDiv, so how could it not go on a mix about the Second (secular) Coming?: Ian Curtis died by his own hand (as did Jesus- well, His Dad asked Him to die, and He consented - since He is, in a mysterious but essential fashion, His own father. He consented to His own death: that is, He is a suicide), and the Crow character COMES BACK FROM THE DEAD to avenge wrongs done him. And what is Divine Justice if not supernaturally aided punishment of the wicked?
Back- Alpha is always slept on: I told you this already. Some fantastic male crooning here; you'd do well to check it out if you like Rufus Wainwright, or the more sedate Morrissey even. This song has a hazy quality: incense floating through a still afternoon. But In A Barn. A barn with a record player. And records (for sampling): old ones, very scratchy and mellowed with age.
I = Resurrection- Manchester Madchester : Woodblock like the cowbell in a Will Ferrel SNL skit. "I put my raver-sized corduroy pants on the same way you do, mate: except when I put on my pants, I make GOLD RECORDS!" (cue laugh track)
(please?).
Coded Language - Man, when this one breaks, it B R E A K S out for real. Massive world consuming clattering drums. Some lyrics (By the great poet Saul Williams): "Motherfuckers better realize, now is the time to self-actualize. We have found evidence that hip hop's standard 85 rpm, when increased by a number of at least half the rate of it's standard, or decreased at a third of its speed, may be a determining factor in heightening consciousness.
[somehow, he is actually rapping all these words - - believe, brudda, It Works]
Thus, in the name of: Robeson, God's son, Hurston, Ahkenaton, Khalo, Kali, Whitman, Baldwin, Ghandi, Gibran, Shabazz, Hamer, Holiday, Davis, Coltrane, Morrison, Joplin, Gaye, Hathoway, Nostradamus, Nefertiti, Shiva, Ganesha, Yemaja, Kennedy, King, four little girls, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Marley, Cosby, Shakur, Those Still Aflamed, and the countless unnamed!"
By this point of the song, trust me, we are all aflamed. Lit up by millenia of song and millenia of thought, all compressed into (the Coded Language of) quantized drums. INTENSE.
Be Thankful- a mellow little interpretation of the ol' soul-ish/reggae-ish classic. Be Thankful that I put this on there. (You might even snap your fingers during it!) Yo La Tengo is supremely good at covers- get into it and see what I mean...
Revelations- Panthers started out super-Futurist, very much in the vain of !Nation of Ulysses!. The Kids wanted their revolution, by gum, and they were going to knock on the squares until they got one. Now, Panthers seems more gripped by the ennui of being a hipster who knows that he's a hipster, and who also knows what this means: they have become nearly paralyzed by awareness of self-awareness. But the music hasn't frozen - oh no - they have moved away from any formulaic punk and added that rad heavy stoner drone psych grind that the Kids these day like so well: more Black Sabbath and less !Nation!. It's a good mix- heavy, but still with momentum/propulsion.
Or, NarciCHRIStic RevelAWESOMEs. Take your pick.
In a former post, I revealed to you my divinity. (It was of world-historical import. But trans-historical, too.)
As was said about me in Oscar Wilde's 'Salome', "When he cometh the solitary places shall be glad. They shall blossom like the rose. The eyes of the blind shall see the day, and the ears of the deaf shall be opened. The sucking child shall put his hand upon the dragon's lair, he shall lead the lions by their manes."
Here are some of the first fruits of my new rule over man and beast.
Touched by the Hand of God>> New Order>> Salvation Original Sdtk
Y.T.T.E. (Yield to Total Elation)>> Matmos>> The Civil War
My Week Beats Your Year>> Telefon Tel Aviv
U Don't Know Me>> Armand Van Helden
Bunk Trunk Skunk>> Be Your Own Pet>> Be Your Own Pet
Time of the Season (Zombies cover)>> Snowden
JUSTIFICATION of Tracklist:
So this mix came out of the attempt to put together a series of songs having to do with revelations, prophets, etc. But as a ran through some CDs, I also started thinking about the monumental narcissism of proclaiming myself as the Second (although Secular) Coming.
I have no problem with my monumental narcissism; it's just something I noticed.
So out of that mix (coming later) came this series of songs, which combines my posturing and my awesome nature.
The Stone Roses are British, and British rock bands often have God-complexes. Remember Oasis, and how they claimed to be as big as the Beatles? And remember how the Beatles said they were bigger than Jesus?
My Divinity has been geometrically demonstrated, according to Spinoza's mos gemetricos. Turns out the damn thing's a Pentagon! Who'd've thunk it?
There's nothing more than this [this=me].
And even if there IS something more than me, it ain't here yet, is it? So you'll have to wait, then, until the real thing comes along.
With that clear, irrefutable reasoning just then- didn't it just blow your mind?
Either that, or it only makes sense to me. Maybe I'm a little 'touched'...
TOUCHED BY THE HAND OF GOD more like it! (!zing!)
Plus, I went to RUBA this weekend -Before Sunday!- then back to mine. Proof positive that "My Week Beats Your Year".
And if I'm not JC Jr., then certainly Armand Van Helden is. That guy... I mean that guy, he invented speed garage, made guitars work in house music (mixed blessings, that), etc. He made a Tori Amos song cool- if that's not magical power, then what is?
We'll just close out this justification with some lyrics from the final song by the Zombies
(but our version is a cover by Atlanta's Snowden):
"What's your name?
Who's your daddy?
Is he rich like me?
Has he taken
Any time
To show you what you need to live?
Tell it to me slowly
Tell you what?
I really want to know..."
I know that you have all been slavering at the mouth, waiting for my next blog. It would have come sooner, but I have been busy. Busy traveling, and reading, and buying more music.
I was recently chided for ‘still’ buying music, but I don’t mind.
Because I know I’m right; I'm in the black and all that. (See below for an apologia of music purchasing- it's not what you expect...)
Thinking that it is goofball to buy music is simply false; in fact, I might go so far to say it's a LIE!!
Plus, what would I spend my money on instead? I am running out of room for thriftstore kicks. I have already constructed a Foucaultian counter-archive (that means ‘lots of odd books’ about prisons, sexuality, state institutions, ‘abnormal’ individuals, militaries, and history history history). You know that I would just spend the $16.25 (no sales tax) on stickers from the dollar store (or worse, dollar store hardware/tools), caviar from Asian Invasion, SEPTA tokens, ceramic knickknacks or bric-a-brac, etc.
(just reflect for a moment upon how good this last part of this last sentence sounds and looks: “Caviar from Asian Invasion” [‘a’ and ‘i’ make such a good vowel-team!], and just say “Ceramic knickknacks and bric-a-brac” out loud. “My, what a Pleasant Blog!”)
I don’t need that junk.
Oh, what $16.25? I got *3* CDs in Portland for that paltry sum. All by one of my new favorite groups: GUN CLUB .
Okay All right Hey:
I had a good, fine, wonderful day yesterday.
You couldn't be there- sad sad- so I am going to share good, fine, wonderful and fun music with you instead. FUN FUN!
First is a jangly little number (or, "lil' nummer") from an old old country group called the Carlisles.
You can tell they are old two ways:
they are a whole family,
and Chris Ruth has heard of them,
and even approves somewhat.
("They're no Stanley Brothers though, I tell you what.")
I just wised up to the great Jerry Butler. Choice!
I had one of his records, it turns out, but hadn’t listened to it yet. The other day I got about 40 records… for about fifteen bucks. I bought so many records, that I had to buy a backpack in order to carry them all. It was Heavy!
Including the bag, Zoolander on VHS, 3 books (one about making Aarow brand dress shirts!), and the records, I paid 23 dollars. Bag + VHS + Books >/= $7. Second Mile, I tell you, is nothing to fuck with. I got New Edition, Temptations, JERRY BUTLER, The Moments, the Whispers, the shit, etc.
Mr. Butler has a strong, clear and clean voice. Reminds me some of Sam Cooke, but not so mournful. But that way that they can both sort of project a really manly sound, and never seem like they are straining at all: as if it were as easy as talking. That ease with the mic is why he’s called the Iceman.
So, of the three albums that I have, there are three distinctive “Butlers”.
One is full of simple soul songs. (Simple like a circle is simple: it’s perfect, smoothly elegant -- unimpeachable.) “When a Man Loves a Woman” is on there, you see? Sounds like the early Temptations, with Smokey (think of “My Girl”, for instance). It’s called “Mr. Dream Merchant”.
One is partly Burt Bacharach Songs; more complex, and melodies that are always very bittersweet. More sad. “Moon River”. "Make It Easy On Yourself" (Burt) and even "Yesterday" (Beatles) but punched up with some more sophisticated arrangements. This album is called “All-Time Greatest Hits”, but they really should have waited before stating “All-Time”, b e c a u s e….:
One is a FULLBLOWN Gamble and Huff Production. They all called it ICE ON ICE (……coooooooool……). Stompers, funky cuts, and NOW we get a little strain in that voice, cos the S O U L is getting loose! More like Otis, or even a not-high (and so, more restrained) James Brown. "Moody Woman" is a famous cut off of that album.
By the way, I once received a subpoena for the trial of James Brown. Of course, this particular James Brown was in Juvenile Court (he had mugged Adriel when I was with her months before- but he didn’t technically mug me. From me, he got NOTHING! Nothing, you hear!) in Philadelphia. And, as I said and as you read, this album happened in Philadelphia too. Gamble and Huff (not humble or gruff) worked out of Philly, on Philly International records. I really should have kept that subpoena; could've sold it on Ebay or something.
Recently, I got a shit-ton of records. So many that I haven't even gotten to listen to most of them yet. And books: always records, always books...
I am throwing up some titles here to wet your whistles (or is it 'whet', like you whet an appetite? ANSWERS, SIRS) for the upcoming 'madness lacking badness'. I will take something and talk about it sooner, if you make a please-and-thank-you request. Just holler, hit me up, or harangue me: I make things happen, ya know?
Oh, those? Those are some shoes of mine. Quick Facts about the shoes: They say best on them 7 (seven) times. 7x on EACH shoe. (Does that clarify who the best around here is?) They are from a martial arts academy. (I can kill you with my feet in these shoes.) They make me look like a ninja; this probably is related to the above. They are too small (this helps with the Ninja-look), and since they are black (Ninja-black), they look really really tiny. They have no laces. They did have laces. But I took them out. I like to customize (it's called Ghetto Fab-rication!)
Oh yes, the records.....
These ones have been put on the hard-drive already.
Lou Rawls: Soulin' Lou Rawls: Sit Down and Talk To Me
Chubby Checker and DeeDee Sharp: Down To Earth
Bad Brains: Live (Thanks PUNKROCK FLEAMARKET!)
Aretha Franklin: The First Twelve Sides (i.e. the first twelve songs she released!)
25 Great Country Music Artists Singing Their Famous Original Hits (that is a lot of adjectives for an album title). Stone Cold Classics: Bobby Bare, Patsy, Cash, Owens, Williams, and some lesser-known folks: Johnny Bond, Lefty Frizzell, Pee Wee King, Kitty Wells, Tex Ritter... don't the names give you a little taste of THE GOODNESS you have coming your way?
Commodores: All the Greatest Hits
To-Be-Ripped: Melissa Manchester: Hey Ricky (eighties pop with a pretty lady)
Luke: Work It Out! (a 12", from Luke of 2 Live Crew. this will be epic! 4 different mixes! Clean and dirty!)
Hank Snow: The Old and Great Songs (old country business: titles include "Brand on my Heart", "In Memory of You Dear Old Pal" [his horse maybe?], "My Sweet Texas Blue Bonnet Queen", "Let's Pretend", and "Wanderin' On")
Spandau Ballet: Through the Barricade (under these stones, the sea)
Deborah Washington: Any Way You Want It
Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, read by T.S Eliot (Whuh? I am really not sure either. But let's all admit that we are excited to hear the track titled "Growltiger's Last Stand", and let's all try to be patient too)
Motown Story: Some very well-known songs off of Motown, but the twist: there are historical introductions to the songs, and !THE REAL ORIGINAL ARTISTS! talking between songs! Stevie Wonder talks about getting discovered! Marvin Gaye sounds like a nerd when he's chatting about the ladeez!)
Trammps: no title (OMC OMC OMC OMC a philly disco act. SIGMA SOUNDS represent! This cost 4x what I normally pay and I barely cared! So hott they had to name themselves The Trammps! Two Ms = Too Much!)*
Jean-Patrick Capdevielle: Planet X (this is the other Frenchman who will be dueling soon with Pierre Rapsat! Excellent: Get Psyched for some Franco-Epicness!)
*OMC - Oh My Chris - is my new replacement for OMG. For an explanation, see here.
Here is one more ME picture. It's my bathroom; the newest edition to the chalk art we have been throwing up there for months.
('x' is a variable, so it changes, but the battling aspect remains. Next time, I swear that I am shitting you not, is 'French pseudo-New Wave' Battle! EEEEP! Get excited OH WAIT you ALREADY totally are!)
Since I've already given you a taste of some Def Dames, and I just got this other record recently, the scene is set for an EPIC Battle between.....
Another well-sniffed out piece of vinyl!
The hints this time were:
A) it's on the ffrr label
(which I recalled put out LTJ Bukem's classic: Logical Progressions)
----- 1) And then I learned that ffrr was founded by none other than Pete Tong?!?! Hey Koob!!
----- 2)and also learned that ffrr stands for "full frequency range recordings"
----- 3) and that both the label's logo and it's name were both bitten from Decca!
:Stealing is fun!)
(But this post isn't about Jerry Lee- that will be another post- his older records are Mellow, Christian, and Country. I've got a pair, and I'll toss up some of that surprisingly great stuff. Later, later: patience Friends!)
The other day I was picking through some records, and I came across a slab of vinyl without any cover. It was by The Three Degrees: "Who are they?": I'd never heard of them. But at the Second Mile Thrift, records are just a quarter, so you take a Second look at things, even if (especially if?) they appear innocuous at first glance.
I saw a few song titles that seemed fun. One was "Dirty Ol' Man". Here's a Youtube of a live performance of that song, on Japanese television (!!!!):
Watch the video: it has Tennis! Coronations! A Mallet! "You're a Dirty Ol' Man; You can't keep your hands to yourself! Yeah! You're a Dirty Ol' Man; Go mess around with somebody else!"
When the sleeve is missing, you don't have as many clues to go by. No pictures, no listing of who might have produced it, etc. You go by band name, track names, and your gut.
(most people's guts have shit for brains -get it?- but not my guts. No, I'm your favorite cultural detective; I can sniff out little clues and make a picture out of them. You'll see...)
It's like a peepshow- pay a quarter, take your chance, see what it is that you can see.
It turns out that The Three Degrees are on Philadelphia International Records- home of the Philly Sound. Yeah! I didn't notice this at first, but then I saw 'K. Gamble and L. Huff' as the songwriters, and then, I could hear them too. Gamble and Huff produced/wrote tons of 'the Philly Sound' bands. Very smooth RnB, around the time when disco mixed with other sounds in a pretty dynamic way. Usually, this mix involves some of the funk and fun of disco; but with the regal pomp, drama, and cooled-out style of rhythm and blues and soul.
Ooh, I'm tellin' you- if you don't know, now you know. Evidently, Gamble and Huff were also producing at a time when so-called "Women's Lib" was a topic of convo; here are some of the spoken lyrics to The Three Degrees' "I Like Being a Woman":
"You know, women's liberation It's cool. I mean, it's got its good points and its bad points.
But you know sometimes, i just want to be loved And that's when i become your slave. I don't want to be your equal, i just want to be a part of you."
Right! And on the topic, these were some sharp looking broads. If you haven't seen the youtube clip above (shame on you then!), here's a pic:
Hot to Trot, right?
They told me that "A Woman Needs A Good Man" to be a good woman.
So I apologize for the last blog. I haven't heard any complaints, but I knew going in that my screed, my decree, might be decried as grandiose. That it might tickle some of you as off-topic, even though it WAS the topic.
((Well! Don't say I didn't warn you of My Awesome Powers when the Christo-Pocalypse rains upon the earth.))
But I know that you come here not for spiritual revelation, but musical revelation:
AND THUS IT SHALL BE.
{{updated August 5th, with some streaming audio and direct links to select MP3s!}}
If you know me IRL, then you have heard me discuss how I am the Second Coming. The Secular-Second-Coming, that is. I discussed it last night in fact, at Alexi's. But I can never remember all the reasons (so many reasons...) that could prove My Divinity to skeptics. Even the (Re-)Christ forgets things, okay? (It makes it easier to forgive, BTW!) Here are the reasons that I always remember: My name means bearer of christ (and who would bear christ more than the Re-Christ?) Almost nothing bad ever happens to me I have stigmata: one from an ACTUAL NAIL going through my hand; the other JUST SHOWED UP ONE DAY and has a way bigger/better scar than the nail one people love the shit out of me (with this corrolary: while I love everyone, in my own special -often despising- way, Jesus did not really love ALL THINGS, just all people: I love all things, even Us Weekly and dirt, so that makes me BETTER THAN HIM) I have a beard
((This is Soutine. It is supposed to be a self-portrait, with a beard, but I see no beard... Well, let's cut him some slack SINCE HE'S DEAD))
But just moments ago, I remembered another one, a really key reason. Everything in my life is connected in a productive way. I don't mean 'connected' as in "Man, my yoga guru and I are like, totally connected", nor do I mean it in the sense that temporally distant and causally distinct events might be thought to 'mean something' or 'belong' together. I mean that something happens- I hear something, I say something, I see something- and then something else happens- I am told something, I am shown something, I post something- and the connection which is established between the 1st and 2nd thing/event is E P I C.
It's like this: Went to the Barnes Institute the other day. Saw many painters that were new/s to me. One of those was Pacsin. (others of note were Corot, Rouault, Demuth, Sefarbi, Pippin, Glackens, Karl Priebe, Soutine, Settani, Dimock, Wols, and Gritchenko) Of these, Pacsin may have impressed me the least -- BUT -- there is a Divine Connection lurking...
I went to my WC today, just as I was thinking about writing a lil' weblo' about the Barnes Foundation http://www.barnesfoundation.org/ (people gotta know, ya know?). In the WC I have a copy of Hemingway's 'A Moveable Feast'. I don't love Hemingway, by the by, this is just a physically small book that will fit in the WC. (I scavenged it from Villanova Katie.)
One that I got recently, too, which makes me more likely to read it (oh, the backlog of books...). Plop down for a read and what do you think the very next chapter is called? 'With Pacsin at the Dome', that's what it's called. One and the same Pacsin as of the Barnes. HAH! The Supremes were playing on the jukebox (hereafter 'juxe') aka ITunes, which is also weblo' material (Past and Future). Dr.J and I were just talking about the Supremes here, and she had this genius insight about how the sample in question basically added a comma ('love child' vs 'love, child...') to the meaning. That changed the meaning from a comment about the status of the child, to a comment about the love this child has for someone else. Then I read the following in my German book (yes, the book from that OTHER blog).
Friedrich the Great was friends with the philosopher Moses Mendelssohn. Let’s pretend this Matisse below is Friedrich the Great, shall we?
And let’s pretend this Cezanne is a young Moses Mendelssohn.
Mendelssohn invited Friedrich the Great to dinner, and was keeping poor Fred waiting. The Great wrote a note and told his servant to place it on the missing philosopher's plate. The note reads: "Mendelssohn is an ass. [signed] Friedrich the second." Mendelssohn finally arrives, reads the note, puts it in his pocket. Friedrich says jovially, 'Hey, Moses, what was that note? What did it say?' Mendelssohn smiles and loudly reads HIS version of the note: "Mendelssohn is an ass; Friedrich: the second". Get it? Change the emphasis/punctuation a little, and The Great is just one of multiple asses. (Also densely connected within Blogville because Chet probably has read this note in the Official National German Archives- in the original German, no doubt.)
See? I was going to write a blog anyway, and then all these other related things pop up to jiggle my memory box and get themselves inserted into the blog too! And see how then it got WAY BIGGER and then mutated into a blog about how my blogs can mutate into other, bigger blogs? And when these things come together in a really big, really effective, really truly awesome way, then we have such a greatness that we have no option other than to declare the birth of a divinity. OBVIOUSLY (that's El Greco's version of the vision of my ascension. They're trying to take off my clothes! Gasp/Giggle!)
Now, in no way, shape, or form do I think that my Father is GUIDING these things. There is not something or someone planning/directing/guaranteeing this good-into-Awesome development of reality. No, no, three times no. The new Christ is not a piece of a 'tripartite good', but an equiprimordial 'bipartite AWESOME'. Meaning, that my father does not guide these things, but rather they happen simply as a direct causal effect of the ontological depth of my reality. Holier than thou? NO: REALier than thou. I am, in the strict sense, 'more real' than you are: I have more formal and objective reality than you.
Don't get offended- it's a dirty job, but someone has to be the new improved Christ.
I am 'causa sui' (that means 'self-caused') -here, I say causa sui not as strictly as I said 'more real', but close: I am the primary cause of my own increase in reality. Hence the so-called bipartite awesome: I sprang fully formed from my own forehead- also, just heard Missy Elliot say "I don't brag I mostly boast..." --told you it was all related!!!)
Now, if there is not a transcendent/external cause, but an immanent/internal one (immanent to the caused, even- hence the 'loose-sense causa sui'), then you can understand why I stand in no need of a father. The result being: two parts (me as cause, and, me as effect) not three; and no need to go outside of the connected things to find a 'reason' why they are connected. (An important corrolary of the above is that no things BELONG together, but that many things can be productively combined, which is precisely the means by which I increase my being). Diana Ross does not BELONG with Hemingway; but she can (as it turns out- you could not have predicted it!) be placed right alongside, or superimposed upon him, and we can then see an increase in knowledge, power, or being (the three being very nearly synonomous: very tightly related). (The above is Karl Priebe- admit it: you'd never heard of him either. That is not ACTUALLY a painting of Diana Ross- her hair is not that bad.)
And, to go back to my love of all things, Jesus was a dirty dirty humanist: people are different than, and better than, things, according to him (Jesus= Augustine here; same diff, right?). But I know (this would be 'The Newest/Bestest Testament') that people are not different than things: people are simply made up of things. (Trust Me: Spinoza proved this for us.)
In my case, the things of which I am made up of are : The Supremes, Hemingway (just a little Hem though), a really big and badass bookcase, asphalt, a selection of works from the Barnes, coffee (aw, you could tell by this weblo, huh?), Missy Elliot, the day of Sunday, shoes, ties, special-bought shoelaces to ghetto-match with my shirts/hats (yup, made of those too), etc. etc. etc.
The above things have a shit-ton of being or reality (or, perhaps a dick-ton: I am willing to admit when I don't know something- I am a modest little DIVINITY after all), especially when combined. I am nothing but those things of which I am made. I am made of the above things THEREFORE I have a shit-ton/dick-ton of being. QED
(DEMUTH- I was probably the most taken with him) (Demuth again duh)
Degas
Matisse
Modigliani
Toulouse-Lautrec
(It pains me to say this, but most of the above pictures are NOT the ones at the Barnes. It was surprisingly difficult to find pictures of the paintings that I remember online; partly because, beyond the Matisses, and the Picassos, and the Cezannes, the Renoirs, etc., most of these artists are not so well-loved and so well-documented that many would take the time to put up significant numbers of their works. Plus old museum people are scared of the ones-and-zeros. The last 4 are at the Barnes Foundation; the Great and the Philosopher are as well; the smoking girl is Picasso's and I think there too.)
Music; musing; must-haves.
The curatorial agenda. Sealing up a void whose vacuity was a source of distress to no one. The seed I am most likely to sow is a certain jargon. Built on tilt. The center of a new universe of counterfeit. Increasingly random and increasingly increasing.
THE SNAPBACK, ISSUE 1
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I created Soul Sides 20 years ago because I wanted an outlet to write about
my favorite records. The blog era feels bygone — and I clearly stopped
regularl...
Hotel Bar Sessions, Ep 31: Whose History?
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The HBS hosts sit down with Dr. Charles McKinney, Jr. to talk about whose
history is (and isn't) being taught.
Following on the heels of a recent and ...
