Songs that Didn't Used to Exist: 7/1/06 - 8/1/06

24 July 2006

Slayer, or, The Dragon I Used to Know

Over the weekend, something earth-shattering ended: I finished both of the sewing projects that I been working on for the past, oh, two years. The final result is: one London style bookmark, and one absolutely huge, dusty blue wool on linen reproduction of a traditional, 1800's Dutch sewing sampler. Intrigued?! Of course you are! It was planned, when I ordered it from Copenhagen over two years ago, as a birthday gift for my father. So, it goes, that he is soon, very soon, going to have a quite lovely, if massive, example of my needle mastery hanging in his Pittsburgh home. I wonder how he feels about that.

Now, I'm embroidering a massive dragon attacking a wizard in front of a totally boss castle.

Humanism vs. Humanity

This weekend, I had an "experience" which had nothing to do directly with my own, personal existence, but which has affected me quite profoundly. Without delving into the lucious, ludicrous, dirty details of "what occurred" (for I am no gossip, I am not a leak), I might only say that, life seems to have gotten a point on me, if this is in fact a match to the proverbial "death" we have all heard so much about. What I mean is this: "life" as I know it exists ONLY in what it is that human beings make; there is little to nothing I can do about earthquakes or the stars, so I leave them to themselves and am fascinated, awed by them, but not overly surprised when something explodes or several hundred millions die- that is, from what I can surmise, simply the way of the world, and trying to improve upon it is noble, useful and wonderful, but you know- only so much we can do!! Nothing natural surprises me. I was however, somewhat stunned to see Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise don the Borg uniform on S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night. Why? Oh, I don't know- it was fucking insane; also, Picard is this pretty predictable life-form.

Similarly, I was surprised by some other predictable life forms this weekend. Ever look at something, recognize all of a sudden that it's your own hand that you are staring at, but the recognition makes is suddenly seem even more foreign than before you knew what it was?

I didn't think so.

7/24/06

21 July 2006

Copyright Law

My genius and I had this totally long rad conversation about Copyright law, and its status, future and validity last night. My blog about it won't really compare, so you're just going to have to be jealous that:

1. You're not us, in our totally hot intense relationship.
2. You're not our dog, who is privvy to all of our conversations (amongst "other" things).
3. You're not smart enough to have thought these thoughts yourself.

So there.

Anyway, to sum up the questions and thoughts I have about copyright laws, I first want / think it is appropriate to say that I think the laws are applied differently with respect to different media. I DID take a supplemental class in copyright laws, but it mostly dealt with print copyright law, specifically, those that apply to books. I have some question as to whether the law SHOULD apply differently- if we should think differently about a song than we do about a novel. I think we naturally DO think about them differently, which is what instills the sometimes confusing melange of thoughts with regard to the state of artistic ownership rights today. As it is, the issue is only further clouded by the ever present monetary value we place on art as a commodity. Dig?

So then, I think essentially it is true that as an artist, a creator of something, one should, if one chooses, have the rights to the creation. Meaning this: photographers own the rights to their images unless they give up or sell those rights. I feel this way also about novels and songs and so on.

I think it is ALWAYS true that if you are an artist and you DESIRE no control over your creations, then you, of course, should be allowed to relinquish it. But one should always have the option of retaining that control - you know, if I had had the good fortune to invent Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise, I might not want his character featured heavily in a Romance novel written by someone I did not know. On the other hand... I might. The point is, as the creator of the character, I would like to be consulted before Captain Picard begins having adventures of his own without me. Just saying.

But I've oversimplified, I know. The truth is that things are changing, you know, because of the internets. I'm not sure exactly what this means, and I don't know if it's good or bad in the long run, and how I feel about it. I think in one way, I am all for further freedom of people's ability to distribute their arts over the internets quite freely and with a total disregard for the machineryof tradional publishing avenues- both in the printed word and the music world. Everybody knows that the Music Industry totally sucks. So does Major publishing, in many ways, though obviously far less so than the major labels, who are godless and soul-sucking. So I'm all for anything that degrades their power. It's too complicated for me to think about right now.

After all, I am at work.

Rain, Rain...

Hail the size of small rats has just awoken me from my Friday afternoon nap (I love the fact that work lets out at 2 on Fridays!!!). Do you have any idea what else I love? Rain!!!!!!!!! I know, I know- everyone else hates it as they hate the twilight hour (which I also love and don't find depressing), but I feel my best when it's raining and I think it might be good for Sal's little hips. I like to sit around and read and hear the water hitting the windows. I like to think about the animals lining up in twos like my mother has me look out the window for when I was really small and upset that I couldn't go out in it. Alright- there was that time about two weeks ago when I got off m train and it was mysteriously pouring and I had not brought my umbrells and the rain was SO ferocious that all of the umbrella vendors that usually people the streets of New York more numerously than earthworms in storms had gone home. So, in fact, had all of the earthworms. Who could blame them?

Why should the rain go away? I love it. Happy weekend. I have a date tonight. I'm not killing myself anytime soon.

17 July 2006

The Dumb Guy Genre of Movies

Is related to my earlier commentary on shit humor and whatnot- but this is subtley different. I blame, let me say, Adam Sandler for the genre: movies, not that funny, totally benign but not funny humor about total losers. These movies have their moments of course- so do a lot of Saturday Night Live skits that should never be turned into feature lengths. Will Ferrell: genuinely funny guy. But there is something about his movies that I legitimately take issue with, because I think they are detrimental to the brains of those that watch them. Ferrell is actually the least offending. Some others in this "posse" that bother me more are: those dickheads from Entourage (don't ask me why, but they all belong in this group), Vince Vaughn, the assholes from Swingers (a.k.a. Jon Favreau), those jerks from the Man Show, Adam Carolla, Dr. Drew and the other guy- you know the one with the nighttime talk show that is actually doing WORSE than Carson Daly. These guys all make a living off of pandering to the LCD and making us think that they're really hip, sophistocated and cool. You know what this does? Convinces not so great looking guys can have stellar looking (if stupid) girlfriends, and that said g-friends won't mind all types of degradation- such as their totally rocking boyfriend telling all of his friends about how he's going to get her drunk and...

16 July 2006

This Guy: "I Really Loved Football. And by that I Mean Soccer.

Poor Jürgen Kießling. Wikipedia is like, the only "news outlet" whose systems could properly display all the characters in his name, the FIFA World Cup was over, and his second wife had said she was leaving him. Alright, I made that up. I'm not trying to be tasteless, truly, I just want to make sense of it all. It's a big leap to go from, "he shot himself only hours after the end of the World Cup" to "he shot himself because" the World Cup had ended, or hadn't come off as he planned, or whatever it is. Maybe we are intrigued by this story, and think it has significance because, as Americans, it is the ultimate expression of the rest of the world's reaction to a sport we cannot understand. We don't even call it by its right name. Either way, this guys's family is in for it, huh?

I'm all for suicide. And by that I mean, I really think you should have the right to off yourself if it is a decision you've made. And likewise, of course, your friends and family have the right to blacken your name for the ensuing ages for all the grief you caused them. I would not have lost any tears had Hitler or Sporty Spice had decided to let go. So, wait, what was I talking about? Umm... I think I need to take a break. I love Starbucks.

Advice

I know: I've heard- low brow humor has replaced intelligence. We pride ourselves these days on being both sophistocated and able to laugh at jokes about bodily functions. In that way, we're no different than Shakespeare, I guess. But, just for the record (and I'm not speaking solely to the Farrelly brothers, thought they are at least partly to blame for this) here is a small list of things that I for one, do not think will ever be funny. No matter what. Note: Hitler did not make it on this list. Very unfunny, in my book, but, somehow, Kurt Vonngut has managed to loosen me up on the subject.

Elderly people doing things like rapping: not funny. This joke has been done enough times, the incongruity of the generations noted, end it. Please. Jokes about the Special Olympics (and, by proxy, I should mention that there is nothing even mildly hilarious about people being wheelchair bound, having any kind of phsical or mental "disability," &c.) - this I note as our friends over at The Onion were guilty of an article about the Special Olympics just last week. I assume they fancy themselves edgy, but really, they're just tiring me out. Hey guys: that little blurb that says "Owls are assholes" was funny. Writing what was essentially an extended musing on the comedy of "retarded" people - not funny. Unless you're Johnny Knoxville. Or 9. I think there's something really wrong when even people who think themselves sophistocated are relegated to the pit, throwing tomatoes and jerking off on themselves. But you know, whatever.

13 July 2006

The Devil Reads the Same Thing As Everyone Else

Now that it's been made into a Major Motion Picture. The Devil apparently can't think for herself.

12 July 2006

Dear Rodent, my Pest, the Bane of my Existence

Dear Little Mouse,

I don't know how you came to be living in my New York, NY New York-style loft. Really, I don't. I'm sorry to admit it, but I couldn't care less. I don't really mind the fact that you exist (though I can't quite get the idea of your filthy little toes walking on the same ground as my cherished, hallowed ones), and we certainly have enough room for you. You don't seem to eat that much of our food, and come on, I've only seen you once.

The thing is, furry little thing, you've quite a startling manner of "presenting" yourself to me, when I, having just come home from a long day, am splayed on the bed in my bra and underpants poring over Johnny Cash's myspace profile. And there you are, scurrying across my bedroom floor, looking more well-fed than Meat Loaf during his "Bat Out Of Hell II" period, & furry as can be; and there I am, Cash's "Sounds Like" blurb instantly forgotten, standing in the middle the bed, a scream erupting from me against my logical will; and there is Salvador, the cutest dog to ever exist, publish a series of best-selling novels, & have his own myspace profile, running into the room, startled by the sounds coming from his mommy more than by the beast among us.

I'm willing to try to work this out. I think all parties involved are ready to strike a compromise, and that the terms may suit everyone involved. How 'bout you move in with chickenwing, little dude?

07 July 2006

My Blockbuster Recommendations for Today

"If you liked Star Trek: The Next Generation, The Complete Second Season, Disc 2, you might like The Color Purple." But probably not.

06 July 2006

News Items Plummet in Value as CNN Hires Lhaso Aspo Copywriter

I have not read the content of this article- it may be informative, verbose and so indicative of the type of quality I have come to expect from CNN. From the looks of the headline, however, everything's right in the world, so if I were you, I wouldn't bother reading it, either. Iran agrees to dinner chat over nukes

Books I've Read: 2006

My Reading Habits, 2006
These are the books I've read this year, stolen from my myspace profile. Please note that, previous to this year, I had read almost no "science fiction," and that now, I have read "some." Also, please notice that whereas before this year I had read "no" comic books / graphic novels, I have now read "three." This system is really working, I tell you.

1.Dialogue Between a Priest and a Dying Man (1782), by Donatien Alphonse Francois de Sade.
2. The Man in the High Castle (1962), by Philip K. Dick.
3. Repetition a.k.a. Reprise (2001), by Alain Robbe-Grillet.
4. Outlet a.k.a. Konsento (2000), by Randy Taguchi.
5. Martian Time-Slip (1964), by Philip K. Dick.
6. Up at the Villa (1940), by W. Somerset Maugham.
7. The New York Trilogy (1987), by Paul Auster.
8.The Dispossessed (1974), by Ursula K. LeGuin.
9. Dune (1963), by Frank Herbert.
10. Ubik (1969), by Philip K. Dick.
11. The Marxian Revolutionary Idea (1969), by Robert C. Tucker
12. Only Forward (1994), by Michael Marshall Smith.
13. Everything is Illuminated (2002), by Jonathan Safran Foer.
14. The Diamond Age (1995), by Neal Stephenson.
15. The Basic Political Writings of Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1751-1762), by Jean-Jaques Rousseau.
16. V for Vendetta (1988), by Alan Moore & David Lloyd.
17. Red Harvest (1929), by Dashiell Hammett.
18. Looking Backward (1888), by Edward Bellamy.
19. Justine (1979), illustrated by Guido Crepax.
20. Idalia, or, The Unfortuante Mistress (1723), by Mrs. Eliza F. Haywood.
21. Shirley (1849), by Charlotte Bronte.
22. The Fatal Secret, or, Constancy in Distress (1723), by Eliza Fowler Haywood.
23. A Scanner Darkly (1977), by Philip K. Dick.
24. Dune Messiah (1965), by Frank Herbert.
25. The Killing Joke (1988), by Alan Moore, Brian Bolland & John Higgins.
25. Kristy's Great Idea (1986), by Ann M. Martin.
26. Claudia and the Phantom Phone Calls (1986), by Ann M. Martin.
27. The Truth About Stacey (1986), by Ann M. Martin.
28. Dawn and the Impossible Three(1986), by Ann M. Martin.
29. The Tragedie of Mariam (1613), by Lady Elizabeth Cary.
30. Kristy's Big Day (1987), by Ann M. Martin.
31. The Difference Engine (1990), by William Gibson and Bruce Sterling.
32. Deadeye Dick (1982), by Kurt Vonnegut.
33. The Brothers Karamazov (1880), by Fydor Dostoyevsky, Translated from Russian by Constance Garnett.
34. Bluebeard (1988), by Kurt Vonnegut.
35. Claudia & Mean Janine (1988), by Ann M. Martin.
36. Jane Eyre (1847), by Charlotte Bronte.
37. Pride & Prejudice (1817), by Jane Austen.
38. Girl With A Pearl Earring (1999), by Tracy Chevalier.
39. Quicksilver (2003), by Neal Stephenson.
40. The Coquette(1797), by Hannah W. Foster.
41. Naked (1997), by David Sedaris.
42. Memoirs of a Geisha (1997), by Arthur Golden
43. Prep (2005), by Curtis Sittenfeld

04 July 2006

In Dependance Day.

Today, I celebrate. I celebrate my first Fourth of July in New York City. I celebrate my first fireworks-laden set of good times with my baby. I celebrate having an ultimate roof from which we could view that set from, sans overly zealous screaming babies. I celebrate, in spite of the fact that undoubtedly, there is not much to celebrate, from a world-view standpoint. But, I figured, that is what's great about being American, right? I can watch a totally fantastic, exoticly overblown and obscene set of works from my roof and although SOME people might think it flies in the face of good taste considering you know... the like, war and all that, well, that's THEIR opinion, now isn't it?

There's a picture of our semi-subdued yet seemingly orgiastic festivities here.

03 July 2006

The Picard

I'm really into Star Trek: The Next Generation. I have someone special to thank for that, and believe me, I do (thank him). It is entertaining, exciting, and funny - but these words do not really begin to approach my fascination or feeling for the show. Essentially, I think that it is (and I'm only several episodes into the Third Season- this is a relatively new phenomenon for me) one of the best (dare I say best?) television shows ever made. Here's why: this show has a lot of ideas, and it never shies away from exploring them. I know relatively nothing about science, but, in my limited experience of the show, this matters very little. Not because their science is shaky (it may or may not be- like I said, I know almost none. In fact, as far as I'm concerned, everything L. Ron Hubbard ever said "might" be true and gravity "might" not exist. But - whatever, but because I feel like the show is doing something very different than what I have seen of the original- which is presenting the viewer with an ever increasing and wildly variant range of aliens and absurd scenarios. Which, incidentally, I find to be charming, and also sometimes rather captivating. Also, TNG has its fair share of these elements- but I think the point of the show is very different. For, it seems to me that the creators, writers and actors involved in the show are interested in exploring human ideas, often quite philosophically, about ourselves and the universe we inhabit. There is serious attention to character development, but I rarely feel like I am watching a soap opera. Need I say more?

Roald Dahl

Was a rabid anti-Semite. It's true. This really detracts from his array of delightful children's literature, seeing as how he was apparently, totally fucking retarded. Oh, well. Just another thing to add to my ever-growing list of things, people and ideas that completely suck.

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