Chaplin in March
This post is by request, but if you’re in the L.A. area, it’s very cool theater, and you can’t do any better than Chaplin.
If you don’t like to read you haven’t found the right book.
A few observations regarding pockets on clothes for a five month old:
- Chloe has nothing to put in pockets. We have all off her stuff.
- At present Chloe lacks the intellectual capacity to understand the concept of pockets.
- Assuming Chloe was some kind of a super baby who knew what to do with pockets at this point in her development she lacks the motor skills to actually use them. She just found her feet three days ago.
- Think of all the new garments that could be made using the fabric that is currently being used to make pockets that have literally no function whatsoever.
106,109 plays
Learning lap steel.
That’s “learning”? This is one of my favorite sounds. I must learn to do this.
Album Update #1
I realized this weekend one thing the album was lacking was a central theme, but I figured it out this weekend. I wrote five pages of ideas in late-night, one coffee-fueled sitting. I can envision the album in a way I couldn’t before - the instrumentation, the overall sound, and what I want to convey.
In more technical news, I need to bring my new iMac back per a hard drive recall. If you’ve ever carried a 27” iMac for some distance, you’ll understand why this does not please me. That, and I have to put my absolute faith in Apple’s Time Machine, which I’ve never used. I’ve actually known I’ve had to do this for months, but I’m so terrified of losing everything, I’ve put it off. Once I get it back, I can finish setting up my studio.
That’s all for now.
JB
I will come to a time in my backwards trip when November eleventh, accidentally my birthday, was a sacred day called Armistice Day. When I was a boy, and when Dwayne Hoover was a boy, all the people of all the nations which had fought in the First World War were silent during the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of Armistice Day, which was the eleventh day of the eleventh month.
It was during that minute in nineteen hundred and eighteen, that millions upon millions of human beings stopped butchering one another. I have talked to old men who were on battlefields during that minute. They have told me in one way or another that the sudden silence was the Voice of God. So we still have among us some men who can remember when God spoke clearly to mankind.
Armistice Day has become Veterans’ Day. Armistice Day was sacred. Veterans’ Day is not.
So I will throw Veterans’ Day over my shoulder. Armistice Day I will keep. I don’t want to throw away any sacred things.
What else is sacred? Oh, Romeo and Juliet, for instance. And all music is.
(via neil-gaiman)
This is a legit headline in today’s Evening Standard on an anti-bullying report in which there is “anecdotal evidence of students being told to act less gay or to wear their hair differently as teachers felt they were making themselves a target for bullies”. Yep. Or, as one Reddit commenter sums things up, “What the actual fuck.”
When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.
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