Caveat: they are all cutten down

What I’m listening to right now.

Loreena McKennitt, “Bonny Portmore.” This song is not her composition, however – it’s a traditional Irish folk song, linked to a fallen oak tree at Lough Portmore, Country Antrim.

Lyrics.

O bonny Portmore, I am sorry to see
Such a woeful destruction of your ornament tree
For it stood on your shore for many’s the long day
Till the long boats from Antrim came to float it away.

O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand
And the more I think on you the more I think long
If I had you now as I had once before
All the lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore.

All the birds in the forest they bitterly weep
Saying, “Where will we shelter or shall we sleep?”
For the Oak and the Ash, they are all cutten down
And the walls of bonny Portmore are all down to the ground.

O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand
And the more I think on you the more I think long
If I had you now as I had once before
All the Lords of Old England would not purchase Portmore.

picture

Caveat: Cake for Cake’s Sake

Arthur, on his own initiative, ordered a birthday cake for Juli. The thing is, Juli isn’t here – she’s down in Portland. I believe Arthur was mostly looking for an excuse to have some more chocolate cake, in the wake of the one we bought and ordered for our respective birthdays last month.

picture

Anyway, in fact, Juli’s birthday not until two weeks from now. But we celebrated anyway.


Earlier we went into town for our Thursday shopping day. And we picked up the boat from where it was being serviced at the boat shop. Arthur surprised me, because as we were going to the boat launch area to put the boat in the water, out of the blue he said, so do you want to drive the boat back, or the car?

Our standard division of labor on these ventures has always been that Arthur drives the boat, while I drive the car. I couldn’t quite figure out the motivation behind this offer, but I often have found that when Arthur offers for me to do something that is normally his remit, it’s because he wants me to. So I took it to mean that he preferred that I drive the boat. So for the first time ever, I drove the boat alone, while Arthur drove the Blueberry home.

I did OK. I’m not as good as Arthur at backing the boat up – which I had to do when departing the boat launch. So it got a bit hairy when I was trying to go around another boat parked at the boat launch. But once on open water, I made my way home without incident. It was quite windy and choppy, this afternoon, on the open bay between Craig Harbor and the entrance to Port Saint Nicholas. Perhaps that’s why Arthur wanted me to drive the boat? I even managed to land and tie up the boat alone, at the dock at home, in a quite gusty east wind.


What I’m listening to right now.

Cake, “Comfort Eagle.”

Lyrics.

We are building a religion
We are building it bigger
We are widening the corridors
And adding more lanes

We are building a religion
A limited edition
We are now accepting callers
For these pendant key chains

To resist it is useless
It is useless to resist it
His cigarette is burning
But he never seems to ash

He is grooming his poodle
He is living comfort eagle
You can meet at his location
But you’d better come with cash

Now his hat is on backwards
He can show you his tattoos
He is in the music business
He is calling you “DUDE!”

Now today is tomorrow
And tomorrow today
And yesterday is weaving in and out

And the fluffy white lines
That the airplane leaves behind
Are drifting right in front
Of the waning of the moon

He is handling the money
He is serving the food
He knows about your party
He is calling you “DUDE!”

Now do you believe
In the one big sign
The double wide shine
On the boot heels of your prime

Doesn’t matter if you’re skinny
Doesn’t matter if you’re fat
You can dress up like a sultan
In your onion head hat

We are building a religion
We are making a brand
We’re the only ones to turn to
When your castles turn to sand

Take a bite of this apple
Mr. corporate events
Take a walk through the jungle
Of cardboard shanties and tents

Some people drink Pepsi
Some people drink Coke
The wacky morning DJ
Says democracy’s a joke

He says now do you believe
In the one big song
He’s now accepting callers
Who would like to sing along

He says, do you believe
In the one true edge
By fastening your safety belts
And stepping towards the ledge

He is handling the money
He is serving the food
He is now accepting callers
He is calling me “DUDE!”

He says now do you believe
In the one big sign
The double wide shine
On the boot heels of your prime

There’s no need to ask directions
If you ever lose your mind
We’re behind you
We’re behind you
And let us please remind you
We can send a car to find you
If you ever lose your way

We are building a religion

We are building it bigger

We are building

A religion

A limited

Edition

We are now accepting callers
For these beautiful
Pendant key chains

picture

Caveat: Andar bien relajao

What I’m listening to right now.

Cimafunk, “Ponte pa’ lo tuyo (ft Juana Bacallao, El Tosco, Roberto Carcassés).” This is contemporary Cuban “tropicalized funk” genre, with video – an interesting window into Cuban culture right now.

Letra.

Con mi dinero
Yo hago lo que quiero
Si lo vacilo por aquí
Si lo derrito por allá
Eso es un problema mío caballero

Con mi dinero
Yo hago lo que quiero
Ponte pa’ lo tuyo
Y déjame tranquilo
No quieras que me ponga majadero

Hay gente que vive del chisme del mal ambiente
Y forma intriga por detrás y nunca te hablan de frente
Yo no me meto con nadie no no no no
Soy un chamaco tranquilo
Andar bien relajao, ser feliz, eso es lo mío
Me gustan las fiesta, las noches, las niñas
Farándula rica, hay días que ando al deroche (pero niño hum)
Pero lo mío es lo mío y yo a nadie le quito trabajo
Muy duro así que no quiero
reproches (andas a lo loco, andas a lo loco)

Y ahora andan diciendo por ahí que yo ando a lo loco
Lo que yo quiero es compartir y disfrutar un poco
Tu lo sabes mami

Con mi dinero
Yo hago lo que quiero
Si lo vacilo por aquí
Si lo derrito por allá
Eso es un problema mío caballero

Con mi dinero
Yo hago lo que quiero
Ponte pa’ lo tuyo
Y déjame tranquilo
No quieras que me ponga majadero

Yo suave resolviendo
Y tu perdiendo tu tiempo en brete
El ambiente lo tienes caliente
Tu sigue pegao a lo que hace la gente

No te preocupes más yo voy, yo vengo
Si yo traigo, saco si me falto, tengo
La única manera de yo hacerte caso
Es que te inventes algo rico como esto
Te duele que yo ande en mi salsa
Tirate unas pastillas a ver si se te pasa

Con mi dinero
Yo hago lo que quiero
Ponte pa’ lo tuyo
Recoge que te quedas
A dar el berro caballero

La calle cogió candela
Oye, tremenda sabrosura
Esto es música cubana oite
Te la voy a entregar viva, viva!
Ay ampárate, ampárate
Eheh ponte en la lista y pa la tropical
Maria Silvia carah!

Caveat: climb higher on the chain link fence

At Karma Academy in Korea I often used to teach a class to students (upper elementary and middle school levels) which involved repeatedly listening to and learning the lyrics for English language pop songs. The kids enjoyed it, and it was fun for me too.

As a result, I developed a habit of surfing the internet to find appropriate music to use for these classes. There were some criteria to be met: a catchy tune, not too old, inoffensive lyrics, an engaging video.

Sometimes, even though I no longer need to, I still find myself doing this, as a kind of lingering habit. I found a song earlier that is absolutely perfect for this type of class, and the video is ideal.

What I’m listening to right now.


Mates of State, “Staring Contest.”

Lyrics

Hey, I like it like this

I can’t tell if it’s early in the night
I left my phone on a step all night
I reach for the light, but I don’t turn on
Spend my day running on your lawn

I’m wild
Like I once was (I once was wild)

Heart stop, take me to the blacktop
Fear where I can find a place to stay
(Where I once was wild)
Climb higher on the chain link fence
It’s all about you, I’m wild about you
Eye to eye, it’s a game, it’s a contest

’94 I kissed you in the train park
I really needed you girl
I drive real slow past your house at night
You’re gonna be mine if you don’t hold tight
Like I once was (I once was wild)

Heart stop, take me to the blacktop
Fear where I can find a place to stay
(Where I once was wild)
Climb higher on the chain link fence
It’s all about you, I’m wild about you
Eye to eye, it’s a game, it’s a contest

Are you staring at me, ’cause we’re having a contest
You’re making my heart stop
And I ran (I once was wild)

Heart stop, take me to the blacktop
Fear where I can find a place to stay
(Where I once was wild)
Climb higher on the chain link fence
It’s all about you, I’m wild about you
Eye to eye, it’s a game, it’s a contest

Heart stop, take me to the blacktop
Fear where I can find a place to stay
(Where I once was wild)
Climb higher on the chain link fence
It’s all about you, I’m wild about you
Eye to eye, it’s a game, it’s a contest

Caveat: Sad and Free

I made a decision to not accompany Wayne and Arthur on the planned fishing trip up to Whale Pass. I feel a bit bad about it – like I kind of dumped Arthur on Wayne. But I was just feeling overwhelmed and burned out. I did talk with Wayne some – I said that I think Arthur was being more judgemental with me and less patient in general, during Wayne’s visit – because he feels pressure to be a good “host” and all that BS.

Anyway. I’m sitting alone at the house here at Rockpit, and with no car, either. And they’re off fishing up north.

So I’ll see what happens.



Black Box, “Everybody, Everybody.” This is from 1990, and the origins of the “house” musical genre.

Lyrics.

Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
You won’t belong to me, I let you down
I walk around and see your night skyline
I feel the light but you don’t want to stay
So lonely now, just let me off downtown
Sad and free, sad and free
Sad and free, sad and free
When I said, it was over you aimed at my heart
Won’t be long for I’m leavin, all my love
But I’ll feel it forever, no sound’s in my life
You can call that no livin, on my own so free
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, everybody
Everybody, . . .

Caveat: ella me llamó pa tras

What I’m listening to right now.

Proyecto Uno, “Te dejaron flat.” I like this song so much. I’ve posted it before (about 7 years ago, here). It’s not that I like it in thematic terms, per se – it’s pretty typical of a certain genre of Dominican-American music, called merengue-house. Rather, I like it because of what’s going on in it linguistically. Constant code-switching, not just between Spanish and English, but between different registers and dialects within each language, too, including all kinds of non-standard calques going on, such as in the title of this blog post. It’s the sort of revelatory text that can reveal how new languages suddenly emerge out of the interaction of existing ones.

Letra.

Primera noche, recibí una llamada, aha
Fue mi exnovia, sorpresa en mi cara, aha
Ella me llamó pa decirme, negrito me haces falta, aha
Yo la quiero sacar a bailar pero yo no tengo plata, a.

So what’s up baby, echa pa acá y yo cocino, aha
Es una mentira, sin embargo es mi estilo, aha
Ella dijo sí, en una hora estoy ahí, aha
Me quedé esperando hasta que me dormí (you tell me)

Uh, ya tú sae, oh, te dejaron flat
Uh, embarcao, he, plantao
Say word, (word…) oh, te dejaron flat
Uh, embarcao, he, bajo ya

Que lo que, que lo que sube
Que lo que, que lo que sube
Que lo que, que lo que sube
Que lo que, que lo que sube

Segunda noche, ella me llamó pa tras, aha
Pero como Robelto Durán, yo dije no más, aha
Ella lloró y me dijo discúlpame por favor, aha
Si vienes a casa te demostraré amor, aha.

Me tardé pero arranqué y yo llegué, aha
Pa la casa de la chama, le toque y timbré, aha
Ella contestó con una cara asustada, aha
Dijo que su novio vino sin decirle nada (damn!)

Uh, ya tú sae, oh, te dejaron flat
Uh, embarcao, he, plantao
Say word, (word…) oh te dejaron flat
Uh, ya tú sae, hey
(Alrigh’, y’all sing wi’ me now)
Eo, eo, eeo, eeo, eieio, eieio
Eo, eo, eeo, eeo, eiooo, eiooo

Sigue

Think you gonna play me out this time? (this time)
Think you gonna leave me stinkin?
Think you gonna hurt me?
Think I had what you been drinkin?

Hey mami no te cruces porque no soy tu jueguito
No me llames por teléfono si tú no quieres dar
Con mala fama y yo te lo confirmo
No quiero problema, tú así conmigo
No vale la pena, ay negra, ay negra
(ay negra, ay negra)
Por qué me trata así, no me digas que me quieres
Si yo sé que tú no tienes tiempo para mí (you tell me)

Mami menéalo, mami menea, nea
Mami menéalo, mami menea, nea
(Break it down)
Dale pa bajo baby, dale pa bajo así
Dale pa bajo baby (pick it up, pick it up, pick it up)

… con Proyecto… Uno!

Y la gente dice

Uh, ya tú sae, oh, te dejaron flat
Uh, embarcao, he, plantao
Say word, (word…) oh, te dejaron flat
Uh, embarcao, he… (break it down)

Así, así, así, así, así, así
Así, así, así

Que lo que, que lo que sube
Que lo que, que lo que sube
Que lo que, que lo que sube
Que lo que, que lo que sube

Caveat: your legacy, written in blood and dead magic

What I’m listening to right now.

Xiuhtezcatl, “Magic”

Lyrics.

ISA:
Magic and song and the sound of a drum
From the sea to the sky to the land
Feel the sun on my skin
I'm at one with the wind
Elements in the palm of my hand (x2)

Xiuhtezcatl:
I feel this change, where has the magic gone
I feel it less and less with each breath I draw
No longer taste it in the water, or hear it in the wind
It's fading like the music as the record stops spinning
It's no longer in your eyes, hoping it's only in disguise
Replaced by hunger for everything I despise
Tipping the scales, we losing balance, we moving mountains
Drillin the shale we're choosing profit we soak the canvas
Taste the poison whenever the wind blows
Wage war people suffering while we kill the planet
I lost my innocence sooner than most
Watching our world die something I couldn't control
And I couldn't have known, that I'd never turn back
Now what I carry is something that no one could understand
My generation's losing sight of the magic I feel
Plagued by insecurities, slit wrists, bottles of pills
Forgot the beauty of life, tell yourselves you'd rather die
Then use every time you fell as a step towards the sky
I took all of my tears, I took all of my pain
Turned it into poetry and lyrics that gave me my name
With Every battle I fight
And every song that I write
Every time my ego collides with the passion inside
Every star on the canvas every word every line
Is in hope to restore magic I can no longer find

ISA:
Magic and song and the sound of a drum
From the sea to the sky to the land
Feel the sun on my skin
I'm at one with the wind
Elements in the palm of my hand (x2)

TRU:
It's all in the trees
All in the wind
Reaching the seas
Washing my sins away
Change within
I feel
I know myself
But now these days are strange and nights are cold
And people afraid to move forward
Deliver the truth in your word
When you grab the moment
Grab the mic, they all gon' listen, homie
Seeing the vision
Slowly with consistence things prevail
A Shovel and pail, I'm digging a well
If you couldn't tell, I'm talking for real
I know you feel, that's never a fail
Only the pen
You just need the peace
It's all in-your G
Just focus your Chi
If we can just focus then we can control it
Don't come from the lotus than I won't condone it
Magic is secret, and mine's on the lowest
My keys are sacred so I cannot show ‘em
I'm growin'
I'm glowin'
I'm all the way (all the way)
Up in the atmosphere far away (far away)
Land that I walk on a part of me
Master had once ripped my ancestor's hearts away
So I love properly
Magic in the motherland, I been havin' fun with then
Elevating with my friends: Legacy
I just hope that all these pages make it through the phases
All these changes coming got me going crazy (crazy)
Got to hold on to my magic that's what made me (x2)
Can't you see that this is magic in the making
Got to hold on to my magic that's what made me

ISA:
Magic and song and the sound of a drum
From the sea to the sky to the land
Feel the sun on my skin
I'm at one with the wind
Elements in the palm of my hand (x2)

Xiuhtezcatl:
This is your legacy, written in blood and dead magic
You want it all, but you know that you can't have it
All that you have was stolen from someone else
From a future generation that's inheriting hell
This is your legacy, written in tears and lost magic
In pursuit of knowledge we've lost understanding
You see great cities I see empires falling
Our hearts encased in glass caskets of concrete
We build machines that explore what the stars mean
But nothing digital will ever match a heartbeat
We take it back
Repair a broken legacy
Return this magic determine our own destiny

Caveat: So glad I’m not in school

I like this song, sorta, but mostly I like the video. It’s cute and well-done and matches the song well.

What I’m listening to right now.

Nizlopi, “JCB Song.”

Lyrics.

Well, I'm rumblin' in this JCB
I'm 5 years old and my dad's giant sitting beside me
And the engine rattles my bum like berserk
While we're singin, "Don't forget your shovel if you want to go to work!"
My dad's totally had a bloody hard day
But he's been good fun and bubblin and jokin' away
And the procession of cars stuck behind
Are gettin all impatient and angry, but we dont mind
An' we're holdin up the bypass
Oh
Me and my dad havin a top laugh
Oh woah
Sittin on the toolbox
Oh
And I'm so glad I'm not in school, boss
So glad I'm not in school
Oh no...
And we pull over to let the cars pass
And pull off again, speedin by the summer green grass
And we're like giants up here in our big yellow digger
Like zoids, or transformers, or maybe even bigger
And I wanna transform into a Tyrannosaurus Rex!
And eat up all the bullies and the teachers and their pets
And I'll tell em I'm 8, my dad's ba barakas
Only with a JCB and Bruce Lee's nunchuckas
And we're holdin up the bypass
Oh
Me and my dad havin' a top laugh
Oh woah
Sittin' on the toolbox
Oh
And I'm so glad I'm not in school, boss
So glad I'm not in school
And we're holdin' up the bypass
Oh oh
Me and my dad havin' a top laugh
Oh woah
I'm sittin on the toolbox
Oh oh
And I'm so glad I'm not in school box
So glad I'm not in school
-
Said I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.
I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.
I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.
I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round
And we're holdin' up the bypass
Woah
Me and my dad havin' a top laugh
Oh woah
And I'm sittin' on the toolbox
Oh
And I'm so glad I'm not in school box
So glad I'm not in school
Aw, said
I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.
I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his
Aw, I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.
I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.

Caveat: 배치기

I had forgotten about this song. But it came around on a random play on my music player.

I blogged it a few years ago (um, 7?). However, the video there has disappeared – “link rot.”  I couldn’t find an official version, but here’s a performance of the song from the Korean TV show “쇼미더머니” which is a musical competition for amateurs where they  perform famous musical bits. I decided to do a rare “re-posting” of some music rather than go back and repair the old blog entry.

배치기, “콩깍지.”

가사.

B.A.E.C.H.I.G.I 이제 나왔으니
모두 친구들에게 전하기
하던 일들 전부 stop 모두 집중 여기 spot
들어볼까 기묘한 그 이야기

뭉탁!

탁>
그 꼬라지로 나와 너네가 얼마나 버티겠냐고
그냥 하던 대로 가라고
가만히 서서 중간이라도 가는 게
두말하면 입 아프다라고 말하는데
배치기 배엔 기름이 꼈네
믿음 따윈 져버리고 지네끼리 건배
그리고 나선 도망가네 조만간에 절망감이란
포만감으로 휩싸여야 정신 차리겠네

무웅>
어떤 인간들은 내게 말하겠지
너 얼마나 잘되나 두고 보자고
완전히 Reset 된 배치기
이제 누가 아냐고 물어보라고
그나마 누렸던 인기의 맛만
본걸로 만족해 알잖아 만만
치 않은 이곳에 이미 한물간
니들이 발 붙일 곳 없을 거라고

무웅>
이거 정말 난리나 버렸지
아무런 생각 없이 전부 내쳐 버렸지
모든 게 다 뒤바뀌어 버렸지
배치기 인생살이 제 눈에 낀 콩깍지

무웅>
뜻대로 되지만은 않을 거다
그러다가 망한 애들 여럿 봤다
새로운 변화에 신이 났겠지만
장담하건대 넌 예전이 낫다
제풀에 꺽일 네 모습이 선해
반전은 기대마 알잖아 뻔해
더 신 나게 떠들어라 웃고는 있지만
초조함 숨기려 내 맘은 탄다

탁>
겁을 먹었냐고 천만의 말씀
거품 빼고 우리만의 길을 가고픈 것뿐
당차게 박차고 나와서
난 바로 이 네 박자에 몸을 실었음
내 길에 내기를 걸어봐라
내 미래엔 배짱부리며 배 내미네 째봐라 그래
내가 쓰러지나 봐라 부러지나 봐라
날이 지나 봐라 끝내 누가 남았나

이거 정말 난리나 버렸지
아무런 생각 없이 전부 내쳐 버렸지
모든 게 다 뒤바뀌어 버렸지
배치기 인생살이 제 눈에 낀 콩깍지

B.A.E.C.H.I.G.I 이제 나왔으니
모두 친구들에게 전하기
하던 일들 전부 stop 모두 집중 여기 spot
들어볼까 기묘한 그 이야기

탁>
서로 머리 맞대면서 많은 날을 고민했지
배부르면 봄날이냐고
까놓고 말해보자 우리들의 전성기는
언제부터 언제였냐고
몇 번의 박수로 우쭐거리며
살아나간 지난날의 우릴 반성하자고
죽이 되든 밥이 되든 피래미 시절
기억하며 아둥바둥 살아보자고

이거 정말 난리나 버렸지
아무런 생각 없이 전부 내쳐 버렸지
모든 게 다 뒤바뀌어 버렸지
배치기 인생살이 제 눈에 낀 콩깍지 예

B.A.E.C.H.I.G.I
B.A.E.C.H.I.G.I 예

Caveat: stuck inside a machine once again

As I sat, packed into a middle seat on my 5th airplane in 3 days for another seemingly interminable journey, the mp3-player on my phone played a musical track that I’d first downloaded and listened to when I was undergoing radiation treatment for cancer, in the Fall of 2013.

So of course I had some flashbacks to that point in time, as can happen with evocative music associated with specific experiences – and the actual character of the music has little to do with it… otherwise, why do I always think of Ayn Rand when I hear Arlo Guthrie’s “City of of New Orleans”? He’s a commie, and she was a hard-right libertarian type. But that song was on heavy rotation in my “life’s soundtrack” at the point in time when I was reading her book Atlas Shrugged. Thus it goes. Okay, enough of  that digression.

I posted this picture of myself, back during my cancer treatment, which recalls my experience with the radiation treatment concretely. Note the immobilizing rigid (yes, rigid) plastic mesh pinning down my head and upper body).

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Anyway, the thought that struck me so profoundly, as I sat crammed in that airplane seat, was that the radiation machine (a high-powered CT scanner, basically – the radiation therapy was technically called “X-ray computed tomography intensity modulated radiation therapy“) was more comfortable than a typical economy-class airplane seat. Given a free option to spend X number of hours in one or the other, I would definitely choose the radiation gadget.

That’s how I feel about traveling in airplanes.

Of course, there’s no denying that the real negative on the radiation treatment wasn’t the time spent in the machine, but rather the side effects: weight loss, hair loss, nausea, etc. I guess airplane seats don’t have such a long-term impact.

What I’m listening to right now.

Epsilon Minus, “Lost.” I wrote about this particular track once before, on this here blog, noting that the track appeared to be one of the few that doesn’t exist online. Obviously someone has since remedied that problem.

Caveat: Backend changes

I’ve been a bit anti-social lately – more so than usual. I’m struggling with the feeling that my life is “on hold.”

So I’ve retreated into some computer stuff I probably could have done quite a while ago.

I’ve created a new host-space for my blog-photos, which doesn’t affect the blog’s appearance but which solves a problem that I’ve had since last fall, when I was forced to migrate from my prior blog hosting provider (Typepad) to my own wordpress platform, due to the former’s technical intransigence and poor support.

So all new photos are at my new host-space (also self-hosted on my own server, now). Unfortunately, there is no fast way (that I’ve figured out, yet), to update all the old photos. So that will be a slow migration. There are 1000s of photos on this blog, given its more than 6000 entries. They are about 60-70% on the new host-space, but most of the “URL pointers” still point to the old host-space. So I need a fast find-replace for those URLs. I’m working on that. And for the third or so that are still in limbo on the Typepad version of the blog, it’ll be an even slower slog – they need to be “rescued” from there, hopefully before I’m forced to pay another year’s membership to prevent them from being lost forever. Typepad, being a for-profit business, provides no easy way to get these photos in bulk – you must open each one and save it, one-by-one.

I’m also working on learning (re-learning? did I ever know it?) some basics of Ruby on Rails programming, so that I can move forward on some web platforms I’d been messing with before leaving with Korea, and that have been on hold for the last year or so. I’m trying to get Eclipse IDE to work with the remote server, but it seems very buggy. I need to maybe find a different IDE.


What I’m listening to right now.

Joan Baez, “Silver Dagger.”

Lyrics

Don’t sing love songs, you’ll wake my mother
She’s sleeping here right by my side
And in her right hand a silver dagger
She says that I can’t be your bride

“All men are false”, says my mother
“They’ll tell you wicked, lovin’ lies
The very next evening, they’ll court another
Leave you alone to pine and sigh”

My daddy is a handsome devil
He’s got a chain five miles long
And on every link a heart does dangle
Of another maid he’s loved and wronged

Go court another tender maiden
And hope that she will be your wife
For I’ve been warned, and I’ve decided
To sleep alone all of my life

Caveat: Art should be arcane

Two musical threads of my life have finally been knit together in an unexpected way. I found this entertaining, two ways to Tuesday.

What I’m listening to right now.

Merle Hazard, “Ol’ Atonal Music.”

Lyrics.

I dedicate this song to my father.

My dad was a composer,
Modern was his style.
His music always made you think,
It never made you smile.
He wrote for chamber orchestra,
Now and then, for voice
Tonality, in Daddy’s world, was just another choice.
Yeah, Poppa’s compositions came in rigid, twelve-tone rows,
There was no tonal center to the music he’d compose.
He was a lover of complexity;
Some have said pretense.
His music wasn’t joyful,
It was just abstract and dense.

Gimme some of that ol’ atonal music.
It lingers in my ears!
Schoenberg and Alban Berg were the genre’s pioneers.
You can keep yoru Bach and Chopin,
They’re melodic and passe.
Gimme some of that ol’ atonal music,
Like Daddy used to play.

Give ’em some, Alison!

[Banjo solo]

Aha!
That’s right.

Since dear ol’ Daddy left us,
Life has been so hard.
There aren’t enough musicians
Who embrace the avant-garde.
No one plays atonally at their home or on the stage.
I miss Igor Stravinsky, my Dad, and ol’ John Cage.

[“Piano solo”]

Gimme some of that ol’ atonal music.
Like my Daddy used to write.
It was hard sing if you rehearsed,
Impossible by sight.
Emotion is for simple folk.
Art should be arcane.
Some compositions feed the heart;
My Daddy’s fed the brain.

Gimme some of that ol’ atonal music.
How I love those random hops!
I’ve tried to write that way myself,
But I’m not as skilled as Pops.
You can keep your Brahms and Chopin,
They’re melodic and passe
Gimme some of that ol’ atonal music,
Like Daddy used to play.
Like Daddy used to play.
Like Daddy used to play.

I miss you, Daddy!

Caveat: life ain’t always lemonade

Well, I’m visiting in the gran metrópolis, I was driving around and had the radio on.

What I’m listening to right now.

Kap G, “A Day Without A Mexican.”

Letra.

[Chorus]
I got a question for the president
We been workin’
Where the hell you been?
Hol’ up, you better think again
What’s a day without a Mexican?
Hey oh
Mi gente bailando, mi gente gritando
Like hey oh
What’s a day without a Mexican?
Hey oh
Seguimos bailando, seguimos bailando
Like hey oh
What’s a day without a Mexican?

[Verse 1]
I got people in my family got no papers
Posted at the Home Depot searchin’ for some labor
Taco Tuesdays, yeah dawg you can thank us
Pops workin’ Ruby Tuesdays
They ain’t pay much
We ain’t goin’ back to broke, like I’m a banker
It could be 6 below, let’s get the paper
Got a bit’ from Sinaloa
That wear no make up
She just want to get to know me for the paper
You know when the heat on, we gon’ be on
Riding with no AC on in a Nissan
There’s some things we don’t agree on
We want freedom
Can’t treat me like a peon, king like Leon (king like Leon)

[Chorus]
I got a question for the president
We been workin’
Where the hell you been?
Hol’ up, you better think again
What’s a day without a Mexican?
Hey oh
Mi gente bailando, mi gente gritando
Like hey oh
What’s a day without a Mexican?
Hey oh
Seguimos bailando, seguimos bailando
Like hey oh
What’s a day without a Mexican?

[Verse 2]
Send the money to family yo when they cash
Probably made the crib where you sleep at
It’s more than us trappin’ and bringin’ weed back
CEO dreams workin’ on key pad
See I been away
They label us as renegades
Let ’em imitate
It’s okay if you afraid
Yeah it’s better days
Life ain’t always lemonade
But there’s many ways
To put food on your dinner plate
We ain’t all big ballers, wit big commas
See I know we work harder, let’s work smarter
We could all flip dollars a bit taller
Just a lil’ bit farther
We on top, yeah

[Chorus]
I got a question for the president
We been workin’
Where the hell you been?
Hol’ up, you better think again
What’s a day without a Mexican?
Hey oh
Mi gente bailando, mi gente gritando
Like hey oh
What’s a day without a Mexican?
Hey oh
Seguimos bailando, seguimos bailando
Like hey oh
What’s a day without a Mexican?

[Bridge]
Drinkin’ horchata
My diamonds bachata
Do it for my mama
I do it for my papa
Yeah they risk dollars
You can be a doctor
Jumpin’ down your chopper
Listen to my offer
Drinkin’ horchata
My diamonds bachata
Do it for my mama
I do it for my papa
Yeah they risk dollars
You can be a doctor
Jumpin’ down your chopper
Listen to my offer

[Chorus]
I got a question for the president
We been workin’
Where the hell you been?
Hol’ up, you better think again
What’s a day without a Mexican?
Hey oh
Mi gente bailando, mi gente gritando
Like hey oh
What’s a day without a Mexican?
Hey oh
Seguimos bailando, seguimos bailando
Like hey oh
What’s a day without a Mexican?

[daily log: walking, 2km]

Caveat: Bach humbug

I went to my friend Bob’s concert – he conducted his Wisconsin Chamber Choir for a Christmas performance of Bach’s Christmas Oratorio. Here he is during the intermission – in the tux lower center, of course.

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It was wonderful music. My title is just a joke.

The performance was at the Luther Memorial Church (Lutheran) in Madison, on the University campus. The church itself was quite beautiful, in a faux-gothic way. I took this picture of the crescent moon hovering on the tip of the bell tower, outside – it looked like a minaret on a mosque, but the moon’s brightness made my camera image too indistinct to really see this.

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What I’m listening to right now.

JS Bach, “Christmas Oratorio,” by Concentus Musicus Wien, conducted by Nikolaus Harnoncourt.

Of course, I heard a different version, by the Wisconsin Chamber Choir – but that’s not on youtube.

[daily log: walking, 3km]

Caveat: Mushroommates

In a rainforest, one’s roommates might be mushrooms.

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Other pictures…

An autumnal imagistic inversion.

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Walking into fog.

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Greenery seen through clear water.

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What I’m listening to right now.


Saint-Saëns, “Symphony No 3 in C minor, Op 78,” Orchestre de Paris with Paavo Järvi, conductor.

[daily log: walking, 4km]

Caveat: 보았던 거니까 like dejavu

지금 듣고있는 것.

보이콜드, “Youth!” This song is the most completely, fully bilingual bit of Khiphop (Korean hip hop) that I’ve run across. Completely at ease in both languages, with constant code-switching.

가사.

Yeah, alright, I’ll go…

I’m trynna keep it fresh like
헤엄치는 lil fish life
바다엔 없지 no finish line
구르다가 이제야 나 쉬는 time

그림을 그리려 해
어두운 도화지 위에
when I draw some milky way
아른대지 이리저리
어지러운 팔레트 위에

봐 무슨 일이 벌어지는지
따라 하진 말아 거울 보듯이
사랑하면 사랑을 줘야지
다 너인 듯이 대해줘 please

왜냐 finally 만물이
너와 같다는 걸 알게 될 터이니
we livin’ livin’ but ain’t dead fool
보았던 거니까 like dejavu

삶이란 건 쩔어 있기 너무 쉬워
눈 풀어 버리고 다시 함
swerve
썼던 거 꺼내서 다시 써
다시금 씹어 줬으면 해서

성원이 형처럼
boy and cold
내 목 풀어야해 또
on and on
큼큼 아아 음음 음음
let’s get it on

alright 몰라
that’s fine 정말
good life good life
높아 진짜
livin my life we’ll be so fine
tv sofa on my life

얼마 안남았지
전국에 발자국 마킹
옆엔 섭이 파피
toys-r-us 쓸어 담지
내 인생 life so flip

탈출했지 찐찌
rich kid like i’m franky
ocean
눈치보던 나를 모셔
이젠 보여 내 몸 보석

내 친구들 모여 light it up
hive so high 내 사비로
다 쏠게 있는 일 다 미뤄
질투 시샘들은 다 뒤로

이젠 살지 않아 간 보며
living good times like 팔로형
좋은 일밖에 난 안보여
계속 난 달리지 만보 yuh

imma go do that right
바뀌지 switching side
imma go do that right
바뀌지 switching side

여전해 한 손에는 글라스에
만드네 좋은 track
boycold가 callin 해
공을 채워 통장에
계속 ballin 해

alright 몰라
that’s fine 정말
good life good life
높아 진짜
livin my life we’ll be so fine
tv sofa on my life

boy cold boycold on a beat
쩌는게 들리는데 넌 어디
내 인천 동생 성원이와
퍼즐 히트 칠 땐 넘 어렸지

친구들과 다른 길을 걸었지
보란 듯이 증명해 버렸지
목표에 닿긴 아직 멀었지
헛되 보이는 꿈을 꾸자 철없이

꿈은 이뤄져
근데 왜 친구는 잃어져
요즘은 이런 일이 잦고 잘 지내냐는
질문은 싫어졌다가도
다시 듣고 싶어져
뻔한 물음이어도

구름이 어둡게 해도
그저 어린 내가 나는 좋대도
오늘이 내 남은 날의 첫day고
부디 넌 내 목소릴 기억해줘

삶이란 건 너무 엄청나
허나 고생은 다 거쳐가
그래서 축복이 넘쳐나지 우린
하늘이 될 거야 거처가

that’s right goes
around comes around
축복하며 살자 하온아 성원아
성원하자 모두 서로가 서로와
잊어버려 지나가버린
summer night

alright 몰라
that’s fine 정말
good life good life
높아 진짜
livin my life we’ll be so fine
tv sofa on my life

[daily log: walking, 4km]

Caveat: You can’t use a bulldozer to study orchids

We went fishing again today. But Arthur failed to attract the attention of any fish. So we just drove the boat around.

This is Caldera Bay, on the south side of Trocadero, about due south of Craig.

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Here is another view from the boat.

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In the afternoon, we drove into town to run some errands. We stopped by Arthur's friends Jan and Richard. Jan was home. She is also, conveniently, his local VA ombuds. Richard and Jan are the people whose address I used to mail my books to myself from Korea, so they have been getting my packages. Jan gave us some halibut enchiladas she'd made. They were delicious when he heated them up for dinner.

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What I'm listening to right now.

Magnetic Fields, "The Death Of Ferdinand De Saussure."

Lyrics.

[Verse 1]
I met Ferdinand de Saussure
On a night like this
On love, he said, "I'm not so sure
I even know what it is
No understanding, no closure
It is a nemesis
You can't use a bulldozer
To study orchids", he said, "So

[Chorus]
We don't know anything
You don't know anything
I don't know anything
About love
And we are nothing
You are nothing
I am nothing
Without love"

[Verse 2]
I'm just a great composer
And not a violent man
But I lost my composure
And I shot Ferdinand
Crying, "It's well and kosher
To say you don't understand
But this is for Holland-Dozier-Holland"
His last words were:

[Chorus]
"We don't know anything
You don't know anything
I don't know anything
About love
And we are nothing
You are nothing
I am nothing
Without love"

His fading words were

[Chorus]
"We don't know anything
You don't know anything
I don't know anything
About love
And we are nothing
You are nothing
I am nothing
Without love"

[daily log: walking, 3km]

Caveat: This ain’t for the best

Being in the US again is weird, sometimes. I have a bit of reverse culture shock. Seeing US television and flipping through radio stations as I drive my rental car can be slightly disorienting.

This song was on a radio station as a I drove around Eagan, today. It's a song one of my students found and prepared for one of my "CC" classes, at Karma. Is it possible to feel nostalgic even though I'm only two weeks removed from being there?

What I'm listening to right now.

Taylor Swift, "Delicate."

Lyrics.

This ain't for the best
My reputation's never been worse, so
You must like me for me
We can't make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink
Dive bar on the East Side, where you at?
Phone lights up my nightstand in the black
Come here, you can meet me in the back
Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you
Oh damn, never seen that color blue
Just think of the fun things we could do
'Cause I like you
This ain't for the best
My reputation's never been worse, so
You must like me for me
Yeah, I want you
We can't make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
Delicate
Third floor on the West Side, me and you
Handsome, your mansion with a view
Do the girls back home touch you like I do?
Long night, with your hands up in my hair
Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs
Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share
'Cause I like you
This ain't for the best
My reputation's never been worse, so
You must like me for me
Yeah, I want you
We can't make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?
Delicate
Sometimes I wonder when you sleep
Are you ever dreaming of me?
Sometimes when I look into your eyes
I pretend you're mine, all the damn time
'Cause I like you
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
Yeah, I want you
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
'Cause I like you
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it chill that you're in my head?
'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)
Yeah, I want you
Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate
Delicate

[daily log: walking, 2km; moving stuff around, a lot]

Caveat: I’m gonna make it out

I spend my mornings trying organize, pack, and clean my apartment. Since my apartment will be taken by my succussor teacher, whom Curt has officially hired, I feel even more obligated to leave the apartment in good condition than I normally would.

I was scrubbing some walls and cupboards, and when I was done, I felt depressed, because it still doesn't look that great. I guess there're just flaws and stains and stuff that don't really scrub off easily.

What I'm listening to right now.

Grace VanderWaal, "Clearly." This song is a "reinterpretation" of the old song "I Can See Clearly Now" by Johnny Nash, and famously interpreted by Jimmy Cliff. One of my students prepared this song for our CC class, and it was popular, so I recycled it for a few of my other CC classes. I think the kids are more interested because the singer, Grace VanderWaal, is currently 14 years old – she's their age. They're curious.

Lyrics.

[Verse 1]
There's a world outside my door
I don't know it anymore
I'm gonna stay here now
I'm gonna stay here now
Close the curtains, cut the lights
Match the darkness in my mind
It's gonna take me down
It's gonna take me down

[Pre-Chorus]
All the roads I've been before
Same mistakes always got me shakin'
And all the signs I once ignored
In my denial, I didn't want to face them

[Chorus]
I can see clearly now
The rain has gone
I accept all the things that I cannot change
Gone are the dark clouds
The dawn has come
It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day

[Verse 2]
There's a world outside my door
I forced my feet down to the floor
I'm gonna make it out
I'm gonna make it out
Take a breath and say a prayer
Find the strength in my despair
It's not gonna take me down
It's not gonna take me down

[Pre-Chorus]
All the roads I've been before
Same mistakes always got me shakin'
And all the signs I once ignored
In my denial, I didn't want to face them

[Chorus]
I can see clearly now
The rain has gone
I accept all the things that I cannot change
Gone are the dark clouds
The dawn has come
It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day
It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day

[Bridge]
All the pain in my sorrow
Won't change today, only ruin tomorrow
All the pain in my sorrow
Won't change today, only ruin tomorrow

[Chorus]
I can see clearly now
The rain has gone
I accept all the things that I cannot change
Gone are the dark clouds
The dawn has come
It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day
It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day

[daily log: walking, 7.5km; carrying heavy box to post office, 0.5km]