He’s still cool, as far as I’m concerned. I’m listening now, one of our submarines is missing, tonight, and scaring myself (just thinking about you) (when I’m without you) and really enjoying all the synthetic beauty of these pieces.

Oh, how I loved this stuff back when. Still do, too. Certainly a big entry point for me from the teenage music I liked into the music I enjoy now. Dolby helped me move from straight-up pop into artists like Brian Eno and Kraftwerk, and in turn into other artists like Philip Glass and Stereolab. So I feel all giddy about going to see him live. In person, in the same room, this man whose music I love, and who helped me along a path to find much more music I love. The stars must have crossed our paths forever…

- Nada Surf, ‘Happy Kid’

My lack of progress, in life in general – not in anything in particular, has become palpable. The way I move around seems slow motion, with little spots speeded up like some crazy film on a broken projector.

Tai chi was interesting this morning, working a bit on turn-strike-parry-punch. I had been swinging my hip out too far. I knew I was doing it not quite right, I could feel the power go, but hadn’t taken the time to figure out why. It was very similar to what I was doing with repulse monkey: letting my hip slide outward instead of rotating in place and keeping my weight directly over my knee. That turn-strike is still really hard for me, though. Floppy wrist! Punches don’t work well with floppy wrists.

Edward was saying he had learned something new, a martial style or art that has you punching with your 2 ‘outside’ knuckles (ring & pinkie) instead of the 2 inside ones (index & middle). I tried shifting the force back and forth myself, with my arm extended like a punch, fist against the wall. It still amazes me when something I do with my arm or shoulder moves my hips or feet.

It felt good to direct energy somewhere out of me this morning, even if it was just against the wall. I think it’s all clogged up in me somewhere, physically, metaphorically, emotionally.

I love all

The many charms about you

Above all

I want my arms about you

Don’t be a naughty baby

Come to me

Come to me do

My sweet embraceable you

(thanks, Gershwin)

“All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day and find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible.”

- Thomas Lawrence

Day dreaming is dangerous for those who would preserve the status quo, baby. That’s why they want to beat it out of you.

We all know that the only mental tool by means of which a very finite piece of reasoning can cover a myriad cases is called abstraction; as a result the effective exploitation of his powers of abstraction must be regarded as one of the most vital activities of a competent programmer. In this connection it might be worth-while to point out that the purpose of abstracting is not to be vague, but to create a new semantic level in which one can be absolutely precise.

- Edsger W. Dijkstra – ACM Turing Lecture: “The Humble Programmer”

This was written about programming and AI, but in my mind, it applies to many forms of abstraction, including art.

Get me a bromide – and put some gin in it. (the Countess)

Oh baby, oh baby
I told ya before,
The more I drink whiskey
I love ya the more
(Lucy)

“We are gathered here, friends,” he said, “to honor lo Hoon-year Mora-toorz tut Zamoo-cratz-ya, children dead, all dead, all murdered in war. It is customary on days like this to call such lost children men. I am unable to call them men for this simple reason: that in the same war in which lo Hoon-year Mora-toorz tut Zamoo-cratz-ya died, my own son died.

“My soul insists that I mourn not a man but a child.

“I do not say that children at war do not die like men, if they have to die. To their everlasting honor and our everlasting shame, they do die like men, thus making possible the manly jubilation of patriotic holidays.

“But they are murdered children all the same.

“And I propose to you that if we are to pay our sincere respects to the hundred lost children of San Lorenzo, that we might best spend the day despising what killed them; which is to say, the stupidity and viciousness of all mankind.

“Perhaps, when we remember wars, we should take off our clothes and paint ourselves blue and go on all fours all day long and grunt like pigs. That would surely be more appropriate than noble oratory and shows of flags and well-oiled guns.

“I do not mean to be ungrateful for the fine, martial show we are about to see – and a thrilling show it really will be…”

He looked each of us in the eye, and then he commented very softly, throwing it away, “And hooray I say for thrilling shows.”

We had to strain our ears to hear what Minton said next.

“But if today is really in honor of a hundred children murdered in war,” he said, “is today a day for a thrilling show?

“The answer is yes, on one condition: that we, the celebrants are working consciously and tirelessly to reduce the stupidity and viciousness of ourselves and all mankind.”

- Kurt Vonnegut, Cat’s Cradle (via Rude Pundit)

if this should be, i say if this should be-
you of my heart, send me a little word;
that i may go unto him, and take his hands,
saying, Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face, and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands.

- E. E. Cummings