This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.
시작이 반이다
si.jak.i ban.i.da
start-SUBJ half-COPULA
The start is half.
Which is to say, “Starting is half the battle.”
It was not hard to figure out, once I started trying to figure it out.
What I’m listening to right now.
Andy Kim, “Rock Me Gently.” Despite his name, he is not Korean (as is evident from the video, I think, too). Kim is a stage name, I guess. He is Lebanese-Canadian.
[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]
I have these “Hello Kitty” index cards, which are pink. I got them for free somehow – I don’t recall when. But I use little index cards quite frequently (almost universally) in my speaking classes, when I allow students to make notes – I find the small format makes them think more about what information to put on their cards in preparation for speaking, and at least sometimes prevents them from writing out their speeches verbatim, because they can’t fit the full speech so well on such a small card.
Some of the students (boys, of course) complained about having pink, Hello Kitty index cards. I said deal with it. On a whim, I tried to create a less “girly” version of the Hello Kitty character. I called him/her “Yo, Cat.” Here is a bad-quality photo of a bad-quality sketch.
I guess I conceptualized this character as a hiphop artist.
내가 지금 듣고있어요.
[UPDATE 20180328: Video embed updated due to link-rot.]
매드 클라운, “콩 (Hide And Seek),” (Feat. Jooyoung 주영)
가사.
하루의 시작 똑같은 생활의 반복
속에 끈질기게 나를 놓지 않길
난 세상이란 바구니 속 작은 콩
행복이란 게 내 청춘의
방구석 어디쯤 숨었다면
난 쓰레기통 탁자 밑 신발장
안까지 싹 다 뒤졌겠지
하지만 나 바랬던 것들
여기 없네 내게 행복은
소문만 무성할 뿐 목격된 적 없네
속쓰린 아침 다시 밥과 마주했고
이걸 벌기 위해 이걸
또 삼키고 난 나가야 돼
삶이란 건 어쩌면
아빠의 구둣발 같은건가 봐
끊임없이 바닥과 부딪혀
닳고 아픈건가 봐
행복이란 게 마치
숨바꼭질과 같은 거라면
난 모든 길 모퉁이 모든 골목
구석까지 미친 듯 뒤졌겠지
모두가 모르겠단 표정으로
날 비웃을 때 답을 찾았다거나
답이 보인 게 아냐 난 그냥 믿었네
2011년 11월 난 보자기에
씌워진 저 작은 콩
까만 비닐봉지에 싸인
저 위가 내 하늘일 리 없다
믿었고 반복된 일상
평범함은 죄 아니니까
난 웅크린 채 숫자를 세
아직은 한참 밤이니까
스물일곱의 그 밤
무작정 걸었던 그날 밤
가로등 아래 우두커니 서
난 어디로 갈지도 모른 채
스물일곱의 그 밤
내 모습이 초라해
눈을 뜨면 꼭 잡힐 것 같아
아득한 그 시절 그날 밤
해 뜨면 어제 같은 오늘을
또 한 번 나 살아가겠지
붐비는 지하철 똑같은
발걸음들 나 따라가겠지
술잔 앞 꿈에 대한 얘기 할 때면
사실 내 목소리 떳떳하지 못해서
누군가 눈치챌까 괜시리
목소릴 높였지 이 곳을
벗어나고 싶어 난 내가
나로서 살고 싶어
더 비겁해지기 전에
겁 먹기 전에 이젠 나 답고 싶어
작은 콩 몸 속에는
서러움과 눈물 몇 방울
그리고 그 빛나는 믿음을
끌어안고 견디는 중
이 수많은 밤을
나를 믿는 것 꿈을 견디는 것
지금의 내 초라함은
잠시 스쳐갈 뿐이라는 것과
언젠가 머릴 들이밀고
솟아날 콩처럼 까만 보자기 속
난 한없이 더 질겨지고 있지
스물일곱의 그 밤
무작정 걸었던 그날 밤
가로등 아래 우두커니 서
난 어디로 갈지도 모른 채
스물일곱의 그 밤
내 모습이 초라해
눈을 뜨면 꼭 잡힐 것 같아
아득한 그 시절 그날 밤
하루 견뎌 또 하루
세상에 바짝 약 오른 채로
용기를 내긴 힘들었고
포기란 말은 참 쉬웠던
난 숫자를 세지
꼭꼭 숨어라 머리카락 보일라
어디로 넌 숨었을까
어디에 있건 상관없다고
자 하나 둘 셋 넷
다시 다섯 넷 셋 둘
세상은 나를 술래라 해
난 그래서 눈 가렸을 뿐
한때는 헷갈린 적도 있지만
난 이제 갈 길 가네
열까지 숫자를 세고
내일이 되면 난 더 빛나네
나는 더 빛나네
스물일곱의 그 밤
무작정 걸었던 그날 밤
가로등 아래 우두커니 서
난 어디로 갈지도 모른 채
스물일곱의 그 밤
내 모습이 초라해
눈을 뜨면 꼭 잡힐 것 같아
아득한 그 시절 그 날 밤
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
내가 지금 듣고있어요.
O
유승준, "사랑해 누나" (1997년!)… 어차피, 내 학생들의 연령이 이 노래의 세 미만이에요.
가사.
나를 미치도록 찐한 사랑에 빠지게 했던 그녀는 나보다 더
나이가 훨씬 많아 아니 쬐끔 하지만나는 네 어깨에다 손을
올리곤 했었지 왜냐하면 내가 키가더 크니까
혹시나 하는 두려움은 모두 떨쳐버려 세상이 만들어 논 기
유승준 사랑해 누나
준들은모두 버려 널 아끼고 너를 믿는 가슴속에 내 소중한
사람이 있다는 걸절대 잊어서는 안돼
아무리 날 노려 보아도 항상 내 이름을 불러대지
어깨에 내손을 올릴땐 새침한 그 미소가 너무나 예뻐
그 누구의 시선도 어떤 말도 겁낼건없어 그 무엇도 어쩔
수 없는 우리 사랑 있잖아
어리다고 나를 놀리는 너의 친구들이 싫지만 걱정하듯 나
를 비웃는 내 친구 두려웠지만
바보처럼 울어선 안돼 언제라도 활짝 웃어줘 내 가슴속의
사랑은 널 안기에 충분하니까
넌 웃는게 예뻐 그러니까 웃어줘 언제까지라도 눈물은 없을
꺼야 늘 담당해줘 우리 사랑앞에서 두려워할 것도 흔들릴
것도 없으니까 그게 잘 안 되면 아예나를 오빠라고 불러버
려 그것이 너에겐 더 편할지도 모르니까 약속해 줄께니가
기대 잠들 내 가슴은 언제까지 너만을 기다린다는 것을
아무도 우리사랑을 어떻게 할 수는 없을꺼야
언제나 네곁에 있을께 너만의 사랑인 날잊어선 안돼
다른 연인들보다 힘이 들고 어렵겠지만 영원히 널 지켜줄거
야 조금만 더 기다려
어리다고 나를 놀리는 너의 친구들이 싫지만 걱정하듯 나
를 비웃는 내 친구 두려웠지만
바보처럼 울어선 안돼 언제라도 활짝 웃어줘 내 가슴속의
사랑은 널 안기에 충분하니까
헤어지기 싫은 너와 나의 아쉬운 작별을 하고 힘이 겹게돌
아온 내 책상속에는 오늘은 또 너의 어떤 얘기가 있을런지
하루종일 궁금해하는 내 일기장 오늘은 그 미장원의 미용사
에게 너를 2시간동안 너를 뺏긴 얘기를썼고 항상 마지막 간
절한 마음을 적었지 영원히사랑해 누나~~
I'm not sure these three things belong together. But here they are, together in this blog.
THE DESOLATE FIELD
Vast and grey, the sky
is a simulacrum
to all but him whose days
are vast and grey, and–
In the tall, dried grasses
a goat stirs
with nozzle searching the ground.
–my head is in the air
but who am I
.
.
?
And amazed my heart leaps
at the thought of love
vast and grey
yearning silently over me.
– William Carlos Williams (American poet, 1883-1963)
What I'm listening to right now.
[UPDATE 20180328: video embed replaced due to link-rot]
Jean Sibelius, "Lemminkäinen Suite."
[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]
Lo que estoy escuchando en este momento.
Los abuelos de la nada, "Mil horas."
Letra.
Hace frío y estoy lejos de casa
Hace tiempo que estoy sentado sobre esta piedra
Yo me pregunto
Para que sirven las guerras
Tengo un cohete en mi pantalón
Vos estás tan fría como la nieve a mi alrededor
Vos estás tan blanca, que yo no se que hacer
La otra noche te esperé
Bajo la lluvia dos horas
Mil horas como un perro
Y cuando llegaste me miraste
Y me dijiste loco
Estás mojado, ya no te quiero
En el circo vos ya sos una estrella
Una estrella roja que todo se lo imagina
Si te preguntan, vos no me conocías
No, no
Tengo un cohete en mi pantalón
Vos estás tan fría como la nieve a mi alrededor
Vos estás tan blanca, que yo no se que hacer
Te esperé bajo la lluvia
No, no, no, no
La otra noche te esperé
Bajo la lluvia dos horas
Mil horas como un perro
Y cuando llegaste me miraste
Y me dijiste loco
Estás mojado, ya no te quiero
La otra noche te esperé
Bajo la lluvia dos horas
Mil horas como un perro
Y cuando llegaste me miraste
Y me dijiste loco
Estás mojado, ya no te quiero
[daily log: yes]
One reason I claim that I'm in the right job, despite my frequent complaints, is that, on average, I am more likely to feel positive about my job at the end of my day than how I feel about it at the start of my day.
Today was not one of those days.
What I'm listening to right now.
The Limousines, "Dancing At Her Funeral." I'm afraid I don't fully understand this song. It seems kind of morbid. But it's a bit catchy.
Lyrics.
Decorated in lights
And surrounded by traffic cones
There was a car crashed wrapped
Around a telephone pole
With a soft layer of firefighter's
Chemical foam
The stranger's favorite song still
Playing on the radio
Nobody knows the trouble I've seen
The trouble I've been through
And as the ambulance takes her to the hospital
The only words she can say are, "Can you take me home?"
Before her spirit escapes her as a soft blue glow, oh, no…
Nobody knows the trouble I've seen
The trouble I've been through
And we'll be dancing at her funeral
Dancing at her funeral
Now they're digging a hole
Cutting her name in stone
Sending out invitations to her friends back home
Digging a hole, cutting her name in stone, oh, no….
Nobody knows the trouble I've seen
The trouble I've been through
[daily log: walking, yeh]
I ran across this on another blog I look at sometimes. If you don't know about toxoplasma, you might want to read up on it to understand better – it's so bizarre that it seems like something in science fiction. Slatestarcodex writes a blogpost about memes, starting off with PETA, riffing on Ferguson and police brutality, and concludes discussing what it means to write about controversial topics on blogs. But meanwhile, he takes a little speculative detour that strikes me as tour-de-force of memetics:
Toxoplasma is a neat little parasite that is implicated in a couple of human diseases including schizophrenia. Its life cycle goes like this: it starts in a cat. The cat poops it out. The poop and the toxoplasma get in the water supply, where they are consumed by some other animal, often a rat. The toxoplasma morphs into a rat-compatible form and starts reproducing. Once it has strength in numbers, it hijacks the rat’s brain, convincing the rat to hang out conspicuously in areas where cats can eat it. After a cat eats the rat, the toxoplasma morphs back into its cat compatible form and reproduces some more. Finally, it gets pooped back out by the cat, completing the cycle.
What would it mean for a meme to have a life cycle as complicated as toxoplasma?
Consider the war on terror. It’s a truism that each time the United States bombs Pakistan or Afghanistan or somewhere, all we’re doing is radicalizing the young people there and making more terrorists. Those terrorists then go on to kill Americans, which makes Americans get very angry and call for more bombing of Pakistan and Afghanistan.
Taken as a meme, it is a single parasite with two hosts and two forms. In an Afghan host, it appears in a form called ‘jihad’, and hijacks its host into killing himself in order to spread it to its second, American host. In the American host it morphs in a form called ‘the war on terror’, and it hijacks the Americans into giving their own lives (and several bajillion of their tax dollars) to spread it back to its Afghan host in the form of bombs.
From the human point of view, jihad and the War on Terror are opposing forces. From the memetic point of view, they’re as complementary as caterpillars and butterflies. Instead of judging, we just note that somehow we accidentally created a replicator, and replicators are going to replicate until something makes them stop.
Replicators are also going to evolve. Some Afghan who thinks up a particularly effective terrorist strategy helps the meme spread to more Americans as the resulting outrage fuels the War on Terror. When the American bombing heats up, all of the Afghan villagers radicalized in by the attack will remember the really effective new tactic that Khalid thought up and do that one instead of the boring old tactic that barely killed any Americans at all. Some American TV commentator who comes up with a particularly stirring call to retaliation will find her words adopted into party platforms and repeated by pro-war newspapers. While pacifists on both sides work to defuse the tension, the meme is engaging in a counter-effort to become as virulent as possible, until people start suggesting putting pork fat in American bombs just to make Muslims even madder.
What I'm listening to right now.
Hooverphonic, "Eden."
Lyrics.
Did you ever think of me
As your best friend
Did I ever think of you
I'm not complaining
I never tried to feel
I never tried to feel this vibration
I never tried to reach
I never tried to reach your eden
Did I ever think of you
As my enemy
Did you ever think of me
I'm complaining
I never tried to feel
I never tried to feel this vibration
I never tried to reach
I never tried to reach your eden
[daily log: walking, 1.5 km]
Another really long, exhausting day: I don't even remember having had a day off yesterday. I stayed at work past 11.
Anyway, December is almost over. The new schedules and cohort assignments and syllabuses will all fall into place soon and things will get more routine again.
What I'm listening to right now.
Spoon, "Inside Out."
Lyrics.
Time's gone inside out
Time gets distorted with
This intense gravity
I don't got time for holy rollers
But then they wash my feet
And I won't be their soldier
There's intense gravity
Yeah, there's intense gravity
I'm just your satellite
I'm just your satellite
Ooh, and I know that time's gone inside out
And now it's only like we told you
Hm, oh then they wash my feet
They do not make me complete
Break out a character for me
Time keeps on going when
We got nothing else to give
We got nothing else to give
Ooh, 'cause our time's gone inside out
I don't make time for holy rollers
Hm, there's only you I need
They do not make me complete
[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]
Last week at some point, while searching for some utterly unrelated pedagogy-related material, I ran across a PDF of a PhD dissertation by a Korean-American graduate student at Georgia State University. The title is "Korean Teachers' Beliefs about English Language Education and their Impacts upon the Ministry of Education-Initiated Reforms," and was written by Cheong Min Yook in 2010 (it is accessible online here). I was so intrigued by the premise of the dissertation that I downloaded and read a significant portion of it, hoping to find some insight into the sometimes beffuddling beliefs my coworkers exhibit in the realms of pedagogy and TESL. The dissertation is pretty dry (of course), and frankly I didn't feel it was particularly revelatory, but there was something else that struck me most profoundly, and was quite dissappointing: there is an almost complete disregard for what is, in my mind, the primary locus of ESL in Korea: the hagwon industry.
Aside from a few single-sentence, off-hand mentions of the fact that parents often resort to "commercial supplementary education," the author seems to view the existence of the hagwon industry irrelevant to ESL in Korea. This strikes me as naive to the point of seeming like an alternate reality. In fact, I think that the hagwon industry (and the Ministry of Education's preoccupation with it, in the negative sense) is likely the single most significant factor in why reform in Korean ESL is so necessary yet also at the same time so incredibly difficult (especially if researchers like this graduate student are pretending the hagwon industry is marginal and nigh irrelvevant).
I have attempted, anyway, [broken link! FIXME] elsewhere, to go into the history and structure of the ESL industry in Korea, although I confess I probably need to get back to it and make changes as I no longer entirely agree with everything I wrote there. Without going into a lot of that, however, as I read Cheong (is that the surname? I'm not clear if US-name-order or Korean-name-order was used, but Cheong is a more common surname than Yook so I went with that as a guess) I got a lot of insight into the timeline of what was going on with respect to "reforms" and changes in the Ministry of Education's approach to public school ESL. I was struck with a kind of insight or brainstorm about how that must have had a direct and probably uninintended consequence in the hagwon industry. Here is a brief outline of that brainstorm.
The "boom" in the hagwon business which occurred in the early 2000s wasn't just demographic (which is always how I'd conceptualized it, before) – it was also a direct market response to the government's effort to emphasize a more modern pedagogy in the public school system. That is because the government failed to support their programmatic methodological changes meant for the classroom with sufficient reforms to the exam system (i.e. the 4-times-a-year 내신 in middle and high school, as well as the 수능 [Korean "SAT"]).
As a result, what ended up happening was that the reforms, oriented toward spoken English and CLT ["communicative language teaching"], which occurred in the public schools in the late 1990s and early 2000s, rendered English education – as it was being provided by the public schools – irrelevant to what parents wanted and needed. What parents want and need, always, is adequate preparation for exams. The exams remained focused on passive-skills – mostly grammar, vocabulary and reading, with the only, arguably fairly minor, reform being some increase in a listening component. (As an aside, it's worth mentioning that the intended nation-wide TOEFL-style [therefore CLT-based and with a speaking component!] English exam, NEAT, was an utter flop, although I'm not clear as to the reasons for that). Thus, to the extent that public school ESL focused on communicative competence and speaking skills, to the exact same extent it became irrelevant to the national exams. Parents essentially fled the public system (not by quitting, but by simply ignoring it and influencing their children to ignore it) and instead invested even more money and hours in private supplementary education (i.e. hagwon) in order to adequately to prep their kids for the exams.
That makes a lot of sense to me, when I reflect on it. I wonder, therefore, if the current drawback in the hagwon industry is therefore also not just demographic, but is rather also a consequence (intentional or otherwise) of further changes to pedagogy in the public schools. Certainly I think the effort to increase emphasis on speaking and CLT in the public schools has been scaled back substantially – abandoned in middle schools and reduced in elementary schools. Just look at the reduction in foreign native-speaking teachers being employed by public schools. One could argue that the government was disappointed by the results, but it seems just as likely that at some high, administrative level they realized their previous reforms were driving the hagwon industry to new heights (which they didn't want) and so they reversed direction.
Actually, there is one other factor driving the current travails in the hagwon industry that I might as well mention, as long as I'm writing about it, which is that the cost of 과외 [private tutoring] has veritably plunged in recent years, driven, I suspect, by the increasing number of English-fluent Koreans in the country, mostly returned emmigres who abandoned the Anglosphere due to the economic hardships post-2008. Unlike me or other foreigners who must be here on business-sponsored visas (E2), these returnees can work however they want, as self-employed one-on-one tutors, and there is zero regulation. Given the choice of paying the same for one-on-one with a native speaker or time in a raucous classroom with a native speaker only half time if they're lucky, it's easy to see why parents would pull their kids out of hagwon and find a tutor for them.
By the way… uh, merry christmas? Frankly, it was a sucky Christmas. Bah humbug, then.
What I'm listening to right now.
Future Islands, "Seasons."
Lyrics
-Verse 1-
Seasons change
And I tried hard just to soften you
The seasons change
But I've grown tired of trying to change for you
Because I've been waiting on you
I've been waiting on you
Because I've been waiting on you
I've been weighing on you
-Chorus-
As it breaks, the summer will wake
But the winter will wash what's left of the taste
As it breaks, the summer will warm
But the winter will crave what is gone
Will crave what has all gone away
-Verse 2-
People change
But you know some people never do
You know when people change
They gain a piece but they lose one too
Because I've been hanging on you
I've been weighing on you
Because I've been waiting on you
I've been hanging on you
[daily log: what?]
It was a very long day. Meeting after end of classes, arguing about placement of students in new cohorts. It’s all very complicated, and I often feel like my opinions about the students and their potentials and interactions and issues are disregarded. It makes me grumpy.
What I’m listening to right now.
Cold, “She Said.”
Lyrics
I’ll be here alone
Bury everything around me
Her destinations unknown
I can’t believe how she drowns me
Well I won’t deny, it’s all the
Little things she said
All alone
Searched the world until she found me
Her destinations unknown
I can’t believe how she drowns me
Well I won’t deny, it’s all the
Little things she said
All this talkin’
Where’s it goin’
Take the needle
Rewind the show
[daily log: walking, 6 km]
What I'm listening to right now.
Los Rakas (y feat. Big Dan), "Mi Barrio."
Letra.
(intro)
yayayao yo
quien 'ta a 'y
black lion crew
pa' mi barrio
dale
(verso1)
im from the city
where the sun
burn like fiya fiya
we dont were
white t's, blue jeans, and some nikes
is wifebeater,blue shores,and chancletas everyday
donde hablamos al derecho y al rebes
y si ala fiesta
a nosotros
nadie nos invito
como sea entramos
y si te descuidas
a tu gial te agaramos
por q en panama
nosotros no perriamos
nosotros arrochamos
hasta la 4 de la manana gozando
no hay mesquindad
por la vesindad
soy caliente
pero q eso no se me culpe a mmi
yo lo tengo en las venas
lo tengo de erenia
atrevido
desde q naci gial
si tu quieres demencia
ven pa' 'onde de mi
ven pa' 'onde de mi
(Brige)
pongan sus banderas en el aire
si usted estan orgullosos
de ser de de donde son
de ded donde son
let's go
(coro)
this is fo' my barrio
this is fo' my ghetto
aquellos q nunca se conforman
si no llegan de primero
this is fo' my people
this is fo' my ghetto
aquellos q nunca dejan a su gente
por el suelo
(repeat)
Verso2
My curfew is tight
So Ill get straight to it
Damn right im with dis ghetto
And barrio power movement
Cause dis ghetto war
Is big Guerra
En mi barrio cosinando Heroina
Traficando en la esquina cocaina y mariguana
And I bet yaw aint know
They filmed titanic en Tijuana
Dis is for los paleteros
Dis is foe los paleteros
Im gonna reflect
Connect with those that stay true
I got a full list but ill just name a few
Im in influence by brown bares
Che Guevara cesar chavez pancho villas
They protected our stolen tierras
They zapatitistas so rebellious
Is 2005 and we so intelligent
Check out the new stilo homes
No more white t is white guayaveras
U know
(coro)
this is fo' my barrio
this is fo' my ghetto
aquellos q nunca se conforman
si no llegan de primero
this is fo' my people
this is fo' my ghetto
aquellos q nunca dejan a su gente
por el suelo
(repeat)
(brige2)
(rich)
Dis ones for u
Him or her
Ghetto children that live in dirt
That don’t study cause they need to work
(dun)
Esto es pa ti ella y el
Si tas orgulloso
Put ur flag in the air
repeat
(verse 3)
Where my ghetto people at//
Hustleing trynna live well//
On the paper chase trynna get mail but see jails//
Hustleing to make sells//
On the block slanging females//
Making that loot on some type of retail//
Where some niggaz might eat shells with no pasta//
Some living like mobsters some living proper//
Some using the choppers//
and even doctors come from where I come from//
the ghetto!!!
The place where I call my home//
Lay my throne and my day goes on//
To acknowledge you I lace this song//
You watch me grow moving to better places//
Understandably but never erased me for other faces//
A friend to me I made some enemies and bounced back//
Cuz I know it was jeolousy trynna put me off track//
I move and come back to your path//
Cuz without my ghetto I wouldn’t be glad//
And heres my reason to brag// hey!!!
(Brige)
pongan sus banderas en el aire
si usted estan orgullosos
de ser de de donde son
de ded donde son
let's go
(coro)
this is fo' my barrio
this is fo' my ghetto
aquellos q nunca se conforman
si no llegan de primero
this is fo' my people
this is fo' my ghetto
aquellos q nunca dejan a su gente
por el suelo
(repeat)
(outro)
hahaha
to' ta' hablao
mi barrio bad buay el imigrante
y uzil en el booth con migo
no hagas papel de maton
ooooohh te metemo un garnato aguaebo
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
Walking to work in the falling snow, I saw a sign that announced that Goyangites (is that what people who live in Goyang can be called?) should clean the snow. I was struck by the fact that I just kind of “read” the sign without really working at sorting it out, just overlooking the words I didn’t know. That felt like a kind of banal linguistic milestone. This picture utterly fails to show the sign – I thought it would when I took it, but I was wrong. It shows the snow, though.
What I’m listening to right now.
Son Volt, “Dust of Daylight.”
Lyrics.
Hand in hand there are angels that are holding warning signs
Show you the way like teachers and prophets of doom
Everyone has their idols, there will always be a story to tell
The search goes on, a balance in the final say
When you’re lost in folly, out of luck in the worst way
Love is a fog and you stumble every step you make
The dust of daylight holds you down and makes you wait
Love is a fog and you stumble every step you make
There will be words and fault lines to fill the hours of the days
There are ways to buy trouble but a bail bondsman finds friends in jail
Time to leave now, time to pack up all that you’re leaving
Your contest’s here but you’ll be judged just the same
When you’re lost in folly, out of luck in the worst way
Love is a fog and you stumble every step you make
The dust of daylight holds you down and makes you wait
Love is a fog and you stumble every step you make
Love is a fog and you stumble every step you make
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
Speculative Grammarian observed yesterday, "Today is Noam Chomsky’s birthday. To celebrate, discuss linguistics or hegemony. But never both at the same time! Why is that?"
More seriously, this is a Chomsky quote in linguistics that is worth remembering, and fundamental to linguistics.
The most striking aspect of linguistic competence is what we may call the 'creativity of language,' that is, the speaker's ability to produce new sentences, sentences that are immediately understood by other speakers although they bear no physical resemblance to sentences which are 'familiar.' – Noam Chomsky
What I'm listening to right now.
TV On The Radio, "Careful You." The lyrics aren't that interesting, but I like the song anyway.
Lyrics.
Oui je t'aime, oui je t'aime
À demain, à la prochaine
I know it's best to say goodbye
But I can't seem to move away
Not to say, not to say
That you shouldn't share the blame
There is a softness to your touch
There is a wonder to your ways
[Chorus]
Don't know how I feel, what's the deal?
Is it real? When's it gonna go down?
Can we talk? Can we not?
Well, I'm here, won't you tell me right now?
And I'll care for you, oh, careful you
Don't know, should we stay? Should we go?
Should we back it up and turn it around?
Take the good with the bad
Still believe we can make it somehow
I will care for you, oh, careful you, careful you
Oui je t'aime, oui je t'aime
From the cradle to the grave
You've done a number on my heart
And things will never be the same
Freeze a frame, freeze a frame
From a fever dream of days
We learned the secret of a kiss
And how it melts away all pain
[Chorus] x2
[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]
Yeah. It was Saturday.
What I'm listening to right now.
Metric, "Breathing Underwater."
Lyrics.
I'm the blade
You're the knife
I'm the weight
You're the kite
They were right when they said
We were breathing underwater
Out of place all the time
In a world that wasn't mine to take
I'll wait
Is this my life?
Ahhh
Am I breathing underwater?
Is this my life?
Ahhh
Am I breathing underwater?
I'm the blade
You're the knife
I'm the weight
You're the kite
They were right when they said we should never meet our heroes
When they bowed at their feet, in the end it wasn't me
Is this my life?
Ahhh
Am I breathing underwater?
Is this my life?
Ahhh
Am I breathing underwater?
Nights are days
We'll beat a path through the mirrored maze
I can see the end
But it hasn't happened yet
I can see the end
But it hasn't happened yet
Is this my life?
Ahhh
Am I breathing underwater?
Is this my life?
Ahhh
Am I breathing underwater?
Am I breathing underwater? [x2]
[daily log: walking, 2 km]
Lo que estoy escuchando en este momento.
José José, "Lágrimas."
Letra.
yo siento hundirme y me extremesco
si veo caer tus lagrimas
yo me arrepiento del mal que halla hecho
si veo caer tus lagrimas
yo te consuelo te abrazo y te beso
si veo caer tus lagrimas
y no quisiera ya nunca
volver a enjugar tus lagrimas
coro
lagrimas
el lenguage mudo de tu pena
lagrimas
la callada voz de tu trizteza
lagrimas
la expresion mojada de tu alma
lagrimas
la visible muestra de que me amas
lagrimas
de pasiones ondas y de heridas
lagrimas
de dolor profundo y de alegria
lagrimas
la palabra fiel de tu amargura
lagrimas
la verdad final que tu la ocultas
lagrimas…..
yo siento hundirme y me extremesco
si veo caer tus lagrimas
yo me arrepiento, del mal que halla hecho
si veo caer tus lagrimas
yo te consuelo, te abrazo y te beso
si veo caer tus lagrimas
y no quisiera ya nunca
volver a enjugar tus lagrimas
coro
lagrimas
el lenguage mudo de tu pena
lagrimas
la callada voz de tu tristeza
lagrimas
la expresion mojada de tu alma
lagrimas
la visible muestra de que me amas
lagrimas
de pasiones ondas y de heridas
lagrimas
de dolor profundo y de alegria
lagrimas
la palabra fiel de tu amargura
lagrimas
la verdad final que tu me ocultas
repetir coro
[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]
I was almost feeling healthier, yesterday (recovering from that never-ending flu that nailed me a few weeks ago), but today I felt lousy. I have been sleeping very badly, lately. I will sleep a few hours but then wake up wide awake and unable to go back to sleep. So for today I just tried to relax.
I have been reading history. I may even finish a book this weekend.
What I'm listening to right now.
King Tuff, "Black Moon Spell."
Shakespearean insult du jour:
Were I like thee, I would throw away myself. —from “Timon of Athens”
[daily log: walking, 2 km]
What I'm listening to right now.
OK Go, "The Writing's On The Wall." This is one of those cases where I came to the song via the video, rather than vice versa. But the song's not bad.
By the same group, then, there was this…
OK Go, "I Won't Let You Down."
And finally, some percussive driving…
OK Go, "Needing/Getting."
Unrelatedly,
"There are just three rules for writing… but nobody knows what they are." – Somerset Maugham
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
Today was a Bob Dylan and Radiohead day. Whatever that means.
What I'm listening to right now.
Radiohead, "Paranoid Android." I was really astounded to realize that this song is 17 years old. Jeez. I'm really old – only a short while ago, I bought this CD (heheh, he said "CD," heheh) when it was relatively new. Anyway, Radiohead remains awesome. And the androids remain… paranoid.
Lyrics.
Please could you stop the noise, I'm trying to get some rest
From all the unborn chicken voices in my head
What's that…? (I may be paranoid, but not an android)
What's that…? (I may be paranoid, but not an android)
When I am king, you will be first against the wall
With your opinion which is of no consequence at all
What's that…? (I may be paranoid, but no android)
What's that…? (I may be paranoid, but no android)
Ambition makes you look pretty ugly
Kicking and squealing gucci little piggy
You don't remember
You don't remember
Why don't you remember my name?
Off with his head, man
Off with his head, man
Why don't you remember my name?
I guess he does….
Rain down, rain down
Come on rain down on me
From a great height
From a great height… height…
Rain down, rain down
Come on rain down on me
From a great height
From a great height… height…
Rain down, rain down
Come on rain down on me
That's it, sir
You're leaving
The crackle of pigskin
The dust and the screaming
The yuppies networking
The panic, the vomit
The panic, the vomit
God loves his children, God loves his children, yeah!
[daily log: walking, 1 km]
Walking to work the other day, the colors on the trees seemed striking. The photo failed to really capture it.
What I'm listening to right now.
Bob Dylan, "Idiot Wind."
[Update 2018-03-13: video link replaced due to link-rot on previous link]
Fall is Bob Dylan season, since the 1980s.
Lyrics.
Someone’s got it in for me, they’re planting stories in the press
Whoever it is I wish they’d cut it out but when they will I can only guess
They say I shot a man named Gray and took his wife to Italy
She inherited a million bucks and when she died it came to me
I can’t help it if I’m lucky
People see me all the time and they just can’t remember how to act
Their minds are filled with big ideas, images and distorted facts
Even you, yesterday you had to ask me where it was at
I couldn’t believe after all these years, you didn’t know me better than that
Sweet lady
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your mouth
Blowing down the backroads headin’ south
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth
You’re an idiot, babe
It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe
I ran into the fortune-teller, who said beware of lightning that might strike
I haven’t known peace and quiet for so long I can’t remember what it’s like
There’s a lone soldier on the cross, smoke pourin’ out of a boxcar door
You didn’t know it, you didn’t think it could be done, in the final end he won the wars
After losin’ every battle
I woke up on the roadside, daydreamin’ ’bout the way things sometimes are
Visions of your chestnut mare shoot through my head and are makin’ me see stars
You hurt the ones that I love best and cover up the truth with lies
One day you’ll be in the ditch, flies buzzin’ around your eyes
Blood on your saddle
Idiot wind, blowing through the flowers on your tomb
Blowing through the curtains in your room
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth
You’re an idiot, babe
It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe
It was gravity which pulled us down and destiny which broke us apart
You tamed the lion in my cage but it just wasn’t enough to change my heart
Now everything’s a little upside down, as a matter of fact the wheels have stopped
What’s good is bad, what’s bad is good, you’ll find out when you reach the top
You’re on the bottom
I noticed at the ceremony, your corrupt ways had finally made you blind
I can’t remember your face anymore, your mouth has changed, your eyes
don’t look into mine
The priest wore black on the seventh day and sat stone-faced while the
building burned
I waited for you on the running boards, near the cypress trees, while the
springtime turned
Slowly into Autumn
Idiot wind, blowing like a circle around my skull
From the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth
You’re an idiot, babe
It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe
I can’t feel you anymore, I can’t even touch the books you’ve read
Every time I crawl past your door, I been wishin’ I was somebody else instead
Down the highway, down the tracks, down the road to ecstasy
I followed you beneath the stars, hounded by your memory
And all your ragin’ glory
I been double-crossed now for the very last time and now I’m finally free
I kissed goodbye the howling beast on the borderline which separated you from me
You’ll never know the hurt I suffered nor the pain I rise above
And I’ll never know the same about you, your holiness or your kind of love
And it makes me feel so sorry
Idiot wind, blowing through the buttons of our coats
Blowing through the letters that we wrote
Idiot wind, blowing through the dust upon our shelves
We’re idiots, babe
It’s a wonder we can even feed ourselves
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
I have been struggling with a suddenly really bad cold/flu thing this week, while carrying a rough and intensive inter-naesin teaching schedule. I'm exhausted, and feeling like a zombie-teacher.
What I'm listening to right now.
Sufjan Stevens, "They Are Night Zombies!! They Are Neighbors!! They Have Come Back from the Dead!! Ahhhh!" A truly weird song. About Illinois. And Zombies. Or something.
…Actually, after just a brief googlification, I wonder if it's about that notorious and supposedly excellent TV series, Walking Dead, which I personally don't enjoy, despite finding its themes and approach interesting. Or maybe some other pop-cult zombie-fare.
Lyrics.
I-L-L-I-N-O-I-S!
Ring the bell and call or write us
I-L-L-I-N-O-I-S!
Can you call the Captain Clitus?
Logan, Grant, and Ronald Reagan
In the grave with Xylophagan
Do you know the ghost community?
Sound the horn, address the city
(Who will save it? Dedicate it?
Who will praise it? Commemorate it for you?)
We are awakened with the axe
Night of the Living Dead at last
They have begun to shake the dirt
Wiping their shoulders from the earth
I know, I know the nations past
I know, I know they rust at last
They tremble with the nervous thought
Of having been, at last, forgot
I-L-L-I-N-O-I-S!
Ring the bell and call or write us
I-L-L-I-N-O-I-S!
Can you call the Captain Clitus?
B-U-D-A! Caledonia!
S-E-C-O-R! Magnolia!
B-I-R-D-S! And Kankakee!
Evansville and Parker City
Speaking their names, they shake the flag
Waking the earth, it lifts and lags
We see a thousand rooms to rest
Helping us taste the bite of death
I know, I know my time has passed
I'm not so young, I'm not so fast
I tremble with the nervous thought
Of having been, at last, forgot
I-L-L-I-N-O-I-S!
Ring the bell and call or write us
I-L-L-I-N-O-I-S!
Can you call the Captain Clitus?
Comer and Potato Peelers!
G-R-E-E-N Ridge! Reeders
M-C-V-E-Y! And Horace!
E-N-O-S! Start the chorus
Corn and farms and tombs in Lemmon
Sailor Springs and all things feminine
Centerville and Old Metropolis
Shawneetown, you trade and topple us
I-L-L-I-N-O-I-S!
Hold your tongue and don't divide us
I-L-L-I-N-O-I-S!
Land of God, you hold and guide us
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
What I'm listening to right now.
Dr Dog, "Broken Heart."
Lyrics.
I never really had a broken heart
I always played it kinda close to my chest
Love for me's just been a walk in the park
It doesn't really matter
It never really mattered
I never really had a broken heart
Such a shock to me
What looks to me like people going through the motions
But when it's over… their hearts are broken
[Chorus:]
I'm fine on the shelf
She really loved him, I couldn't see it though
He really loved her, but I… I don't believe it, oh no
I'm fine on the shelf
She really loved him, I couldn't see it though
He really loved her, but I… I don't believe it, oh no
Freedom from love
Freedom from the heartache
[x4]
I never really had a broken heart
You don't believe me, just look in my chest
The way some people like to run and hide
I never really, really
I never really
I never really had a broken heart
I've never really ever been undone
It's just playing house
Two can do it, you can do it too
[Chorus]
[Chorus x2]
[daily log: walking, what, Sunday?]
What I'm listening to right now.
World Order (Genki Sudo), "Have A Nice Day."
Lyrics (not that I understand them)
日曜日の朝 閃いた
今日は街へ繰りだそう
お気に入りのジャケット羽織り
みんなが待っている交差点へ
everywhere グレートな僕は
everywhere スマートにcheck it out
everywhere シンプルに踊り
ガラス越しの 未来を見て
everywhere キュートなキミは
everywhere スマートにcheck it out
everywhere シンプルに彩り
ガラス越しに 君微笑む
今日はHAVE A NICE DAY
今日はHAVE A NICE DAY
日曜日の 青い空
今日はあの子に会いに行こう
エスカレータ駆け上がり
君の待つステージへ急ぐ
everywhere グレートな僕は
everywhere スマートにcheck it out
everywhere シンプルに踊り
ガラス越しの 未来を見て
everywhere キュートなキミは
everywhere スマートにcheck it out
everywhere シンプルに彩り
ガラス越しに 君微笑む
今日はHAVE A NICE DAY
通りすぎてくこの恋模様
君からの返事 ただ待っている
言葉にすると消えてしまいそう
僕の想い ほろ苦いチョコレート
通りすぎてく そう雲のよう
君からの答え もう知っている
また会おうねって 去ってく空が
僕の恋は どうにも届かない
[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]
"Fun is an artificial construct," according to Steven Patrick Morrissey, former front-man for The Smiths. Apparently he has recently been struggling with cancer, which is something I can relate to, and this perhaps indirectly lead him to the above conclusion, which he stated to a Spanish journalist will on tour in Spain. This seems perfectly suited to the morose persona Morrissey has long cultivated, but I'm willing to concede the premise.
What I'm listening to right now.
The Smiths, "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now."
[daily log: walking, km]
Yesterday was a day off – "hangeul day" was a holiday in the past but then it was no longer formally observed through the 1990s and 2000s, but last year it became an official holiday again. I didn't do much, but my friend Peter visited Ilsan with a friend of his and we had some Thai food over at Western Dom, in the evening.
I'm feeling overwhelmed by work, now.
What I'm listening to right now.
Everything Everything, "Kemosabe."
Lyrics.
Four walls and a cauldron of Kalashnikoving, and our home is a trigger that I'm always pulling
At the border, at the, at the border I'm at the border, at the, at the border
The short spears and the weak eternal monologuing, and our war is the crucible of all your longing
At the border, at the, at the border I'm at the border, at the, at the border
I was there when the clamour got real I was there when your brow smashed the wall
It's like a riot with only two perps, the more I'm here I'm making it worse
But does it feel like you're already dead? (YES!) and do you feel like your brain stopped delivering?
Yeah break my finger shoot out my black eyes, What does it matter if everyone dies?
Hey Kemosabe I'm alone! Ayah! I am a! I am alone!
Hey Kemosabe I'm alone! Ayah! I am a! I am alone! Hi-O Silver away
So fast hence take an arrow from your quiver or we're, past-tense – what's a trilobite to anyone?
I'm outta my depth, outta, outta my depth I'm outta my depth, outta, outta my depth
My head reels and I'm crawling down the corridor, I can't see, but I'm heaving like a holocaust
I'm reaching my phone, reaching, reaching my phone I'm reaching my phone, reaching, reaching my phone
You wasn't there when I orphaned that boy,
(NO!) Your body was, and the white of your rollin' eye I saw some terrible things on that night, I done a lot of bad things with my life
I put my fingers in lead, And I breeze past security!
Nobody checking on all of my deeds, I need a checker for all of my deeds…
Hey Kemosabe I'm alone! Ayah! I am a! I am alone!
Hey Kemosabe I'm alone! Ayah! I am a! I am alone!
And we be trapped in the amber, last joy…
And I'm looking at a holy ghost.
But there's no silver bullet for a memory I, field dress every moment but you're telling me that Tonto say;
I've lost my way!
Hey Kemosabe I'm alone! Ayah! I am a! I am alone!
Hey Kemosabe I'm alone! Ayah! I am a! I am alone! Hi-O silver away!
Mmm, and I'm lost and I'm drained… 'nuff genuflecting in a penitent way!
Hey Kemosabe I'm alone! Ayah! I am a! I am alone! So yippee-kayay!
Hey Kemosabe I'm alone! Ayah! I am a! I am alone! Hi-O silver away!
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
What I'm listening to right now.
The First Edition (with Kenny Rogers), "Just Dropped In."
Lyrics.
(Yeah, yeah, oh-yeah, what condition my condition was in)
I woke up this mornin' with the sun shinin' in
I found my mind in a brown paper bag within
I tripped on a cloud and fell eight miles high
I tore my mind on a jagged sky
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
(Yeah, yeah, oh-yeah, what condition my condition was in)
I pushed my soul in a deep dark hole and then I followed it in
I watched myself crawlin' out as I was a-crawlin' in
I got up so tight I couldn't unwind
I saw so much I broke my mind
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
(Yeah, yeah, oh-yeah, what condition my condition was in)
Someone painted "April Fool" in big black letters on a "Dead End" sign
I had my foot on the gas as I left the road and blew out my mind
Eight miles outta Memphis and I got no spare
Eight miles straight up downtown somewhere
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
I said I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
Yeah yeah oh-yeah
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
Apropos of yesterday's post, in his short story "Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius," Jorge Luis Borges wrote that the universe is a "code system… in which not all symbols have meaning." This is tied into something I've written about before, regarding [broken link! FIXME] apopheny - the finding of meaning where none actually exists. This seems central to the human condition, frankly.
Speaking of which, I had always thought that this song had some complex lyrics that I just couldn't make out clearly, but… when I went to look them up… lo.
What I'm listening to right now.
Lemon Jelly, "Nice Weather For Ducks." …interesting video, though.
Lyrics.
All the ducks are swimming in the water
All the ducks are swimming in the water
All the ducks are swimming in the water
Fal de ral de ral do
Fal de ral de ral do
All the ducks are swimming in the water
Fal de ral de ral do
Fal de ral de ral do
All the ducks are swimming in the water
Fal de ral de ral do
Fal de ral de ral do
All the ducks are swimming in the water
Fal de ral de ral do
Fal de ral de ral do
All the ducks are swimming in the water
Fal de ral de ral do
Fal de ral de ral do
All the ducks are swimming in the water
Fal de ral de ral do
Fal de ral de ral do
All the ducks are swimming in the water
Fal de ral de ral do
Fal de ral de ral do
All the ducks are swimming in the water
Fal de ral de ral do
Fal de ral de ral do
All the ducks are swimming in the water
Fal de ral de ral do
Fal de ral de ral do
All the ducks are swimming in the water
Fal de ral de ral do
Fal de ral de ral do
All the ducks are swimming in the water
Fal de ral de ral do
Fal de ral de ral do
All the ducks are swimming in the water
Fal de ral de ral do
Fal de ral de ral do
[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]
What I'm listening to right now.
Joan Baez, "Love Is Just a Four Letter Word." The song was written by Bob Dylan, but it's Baez's version that everyone knows.
Lyrics.
Seems like only yesterday
I left my mind behind
Down in the Gypsy Café
With a friend of a friend of mine
She sat with a baby heavy on her knee
Yet spoke of life most free from slavery
With eyes that showed no trace of misery
A phrase in connection first that she averred
That love is just a four-letter word
Outside a rambling store-front window
Cats meowed to the break of day
Me, I kept my mouth shut,
To you I had no words to say
My experience was limited and underfed
You were talking while I hid
To the one who was the father of your kid
You probably didn't think I did, but I heard
You say that love is just a four-letter word
I said goodbye unnoticed
Pushed forward into my own games
Drifting in and out of lifetimes
Unmentionable by name
After searching for my double, looking for
Complete evaporation to the core
Though I tried and failed at finding any door
I must have thought that there was nothing more absurd
Than that love is just a four-letter word
Though I never knew just what you meant
When you were speaking to your man
I could only think in terms of me
And now I understand
After waking enough times to think I see
The Holy Kiss that's supposed to last eternity
Blow up in smoke, its destiny
Falls on strangers, travels free
Yes, I know now, traps are only set by me
And I do not really need to be assured
That love is just a four-letter word
Strange it is to be beside you, many years the tables turned
You'd probably not believe me if told you all I've learned
And it is very very weird, indeed
To hear words like "forever" plead
though ships run through my mind I cannot cheat
it's like looking in a teacher's face complete
I can say nothing to you but repeat what I heard
That love is just a four-letter word.
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
What I’m listening to right now.
Julieta Venegas, “Ya conocerán.”
Letra.
Todos los que no entienden de perder
Te dirán no pasa nada la vida seguirá
Todos los que no saben de soledad
Te dirán todo se olvida, otro ocupa su lugar
Como van a saber si no han nadado en la profundidad
Ya conocerán la verdadera sensación del mal
Lo que a tu lado fui me lo guardare
Solo pido que deje de doler
Lo que a tu lado fui me lo guardare
Solo pido que deje de doler
A todos nos tocara enfrentar
Por primera vez la mirada que nos cambia
A caso no es algo natural
Buscar en los demás el consuelo que nos falta
Ya te encontrara siempre te va buscando en la verdad
Un día entenderán lo poco que va quedando en su lugar
Lo que a tu lado fui me lo guardare
Solo pido que deje de doler
Lo que a tu lado fui me lo guardare
Solo pido que deje de doler
Lo que a tu lado fui me lo guardare
Solo pido que deje de doler
Solo pido que deje de doler
Solo pido que deje de doler
Solo pido que deje de doler
Solo pido que deje de doler
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
In fact, I ran a lot in my life, metaphorically. But not now. I have become stationary, it seems. And. . . then?
What I'm listening to right now.
John Prine, "Speed of the Sound of Loneliness."
Lyrics.
You come home late and you come home early
You come on big when you're feeling small
You come home straight and you come home curly
Sometimes you don't come home at all
[Chorus:]
So what in the world's come over you
And what in heaven's name have you done
You've broken the speed of the sound of loneliness
You're out there running just to be on the run
Well I got a heart that burns with a fever
And I got a worried and a jealous mind
How can a love that'll last forever
Get left so far behind
[Chorus]
It's a mighty mean and a dreadful sorrow
It's crossed the evil line today
Well, how can you ask about tomorrow
We ain't got one word to say
[Chorus]
[Ending:]
You're out there running just to be on the run
You're out there running just to be on the run
You're out there running just to be on the run
[daily log: walking, 2 km]
…which is my feeling about Korean.
What made me think this feeling, just now?
I was walking to work, earlier, and this song came on my mp3 shuffle. It's in German. I only vaguely understand it, at the most basic level.
Yet, I thought to myself, well, my level of understanding isn't that much lower than it would be for a similar song in Korean. But here's the thing: I have never studied German (except some class in 8th grade where I learned to count, and we sang "Mein Hut, der hat drei Ecken"). I have spent a sum total of 1 week in a German-speaking country.
Meanwhile, I have spent 7 years in Korea, now (or 8 years, if you count my Army year), including plenty of efforts to study the language, more-or-less intensively.
What gives?
… lo, the powers of cognates and linguistic siblinghood.
What I'm listening to right now.
Deichkind, "Luftbahn."
Lyrics.
[Hook]
Wir fahren mit der Luftbahn durch die Nacht
Der Mond scheint nur für uns gleich haben wir's geschafft
Und all die Probleme auf der Erde
Liegen für uns in weiter Ferne
Wir fahren mit der Luftbahn durch die Nacht
Wo der Sternenhimmel für uns lacht
Und all die Probleme auf der Erde
Liegen für uns in weiter Ferne
[Verse 1]
Von deinen Schultern fällt die ganze Last
Du spürst sie nie wieder, die Erdanziehungskraft
Und sollte es wirklich passieren, dass wir uns im Universum verlieren
Dann verglüh ich für dich, damit du niemals erfrierst
[Hook]
Schwerelos, wir fühlen uns schwerelos
Schwerelos, wir fühlen uns schwerelos
[Verse 2]
Deine Zweifel waren groß, niemand hat sich interessiert
Du spürst wie's langsam leichter wird, das schlimmste ist jetzt hinter dir
Du bist noch ganz benommen, wir sind bald angekommen
Du brauchst jetzt nicht mehr zu weinen, denn ich hab dich an die Hand genommen
Manchmal muss man einfach raus, ja, manchmal ist die Welt zu klein
Willst du die Unendlichkeit? Dann lass dich fallen und steig mit ein
Ich zeig dir wahre Liebe und wie gut es tut die Faust zu ballen
Wir fliegen vom Dunklen ins Sonnenlicht, bis wir zu Staub zerfallen
[Hook]
Schwerelos, wir fühlen uns schwerelos
Schwerelos, wir fühlen uns schwerelos
[Hook]
[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]
I try hard not to get boring or repetitive in these daily blog posts, but sometimes I just don't have the time or energy to put something of appropriate diversity. So here's another song – though quite different from yesterday's.
What I'm listening to right now.
Kacey Musgraves, "Merry-Go-Round." I love when some song I don't remember buying or downloading rolls around on my mp3 shuffle and it's like hearing it for the first time, except that at some point I must have chosen it because otherwise it wouldn't end up on my mp3 player on my phone.
This song surprised me. It's just a sort of desolate but well-crafted country song, with simple melodic hooks and clever rhyming. These days, however, I tend to listen to songs while imagining trying to explain them to my students in one of my CC classes, as I often end up having to do with the various bits of American pop that roll along on the "CC" curriculum. In that light, this song qualifies as: too complicated, thematically too adult, and too culturally alien. I could imagine teaching a graduate seminar on American culture to Koreans, using lines from this song as lecture titles on the syllabus.
Lyrics.
If you ain't got two kids by 21,
You're probably gonna die alone.
Least that's what tradition told you.
And it don't matter if you don't believe,
Come Sunday morning, you best be there in the front row like you're supposed to.
Same hurt in every heart.
Same trailer, different park.
Mama's hooked on Mary Kay.
Brother's hooked on Mary Jane.
Daddy's hooked on Mary two doors down.
Mary, Mary quite contrary.
We get bored, so, we get married
Just like dust, we settle in this town.
On this broken merry go 'round and 'round and 'round we go
Where it stops nobody knows and it ain't slowin' down.
This merry go 'round.
We think the first time's good enough.
So, we hold on to high school love.
Sayin' we won't end up like our parents.
Tiny little boxes in a row.
Ain't what you want, it's what you know.
Just happy in the shoes you're wearin'.
Same checks we're always cashin' to buy a little more distraction.
'Cause mama's hooked on Mary Kay.
Brother's hooked on Mary Jane.
Daddy's hooked on Mary two doors down.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary.
We get bored, so, we get married.
Just like dust, we settle in this town.
On this broken merry go 'round and 'round and 'round we go
Where it stops nobody knows and it ain't slowin' down.
This merry go 'round.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary.
We're so bored until we're buried.
Just like dust, we settle in this town.
On this broken merry go 'round.
Merry go 'round.
Jack and Jill went up the hill.
Jack burned out on booze and pills.
And Mary had a little lamb.
Mary just don't give a damn no more.
[daily log: walking, 3.5 km]
After yesterday's excursion to Seoul, I felt really exhausted today for some reason. I think I'm not sleeping well. The weather has reached that continuously hot and humid aspect of the high Korean summer, but it's been a remarkably un-monsoony, dry summer (after what seemed like a wet, monsoony spring). Supposedly, rain is forecast, but it's been forecast a lot with not much actual rain.
Anyway, I feel very tired. I had a number small, annoying failures today that added up to a bad day. Monday is a dense schedule of classes on the current arrangement.
What I'm listening to right now.
N.A.S.A., "The People Tree" (feat. David Byrne, Chali 2na, Gift Of Gab, & Z-Trip).
I've blogged this song before, but at the time I didn't post the lyrics, which I was listening to more carefully today as I heard it, walking to work. I think it's a pretty interesting song, and pretty complex collaboration of a diverse group of artists that works out well.
Lyrics.
Intro
With the N.A.S.A. team, we will take you bodly where no man has ever gone before.
We will take you back some fifteen billion years to the beginning of time.
Verse (Chali 2na)
Yo! From a drop of blood to bones and body parts
To vital organs form and your brain and tiny heart
Your fetus, date of birth, til puberty finally starts
Adolescence, adult, then your elderly body rots
It was devine decree that begun the plan
But it's disease by the greed of the sons of man
Who try to lead with their guns in hand
Understand God's the one that command…
Pre-chorus (David Byrne)
Did we climb out of the sea?
Where did we come from you and me?
Two legs to walk and eyes to see
Am I the man I want to be?
Chorus (David Byrne, The Crack Alley Children's Choir & Gift of Gab)
People grow in my back yard
In my garden, in my heart
Pink and purple, red and blue
On this sunny afternoon
Verse (Gift of Gab)
Back before time was time and space was space
The ever present I divine so laced with grace
Decided it was time to try to chase the taste
To what it was designed, now life is taking place
Within it' self-divided, now it takes some space
They can't be fathomed by a mind creates the state
Of ego now what's is mine, is mine, ok now hate
We'll reign until the blind have eyes and they awaken…
Pre-chorus (David Byrne)
Planting the seeds in the ground
How is my garden growing now?
A tender kiss, a little smile
The way a mother holds her child
Chorus (David Byrne, The Crack Alley Children's Choir & Chali 2na)
Tasty little human beings
I grow them on the people tree
I will eat them one by one
If there's enough for everyone
Bridge (GIft of Gab and Chali 2na)
Oh, unending ever flowing life beyond the birth
Tell me what the purpose is for creating the earth
Mainly we created the planet as man's habitat
Be fruitful and multiply across the planet's back
But why does hate exist, the war and AIDS and shit?
It we're to be fruitful, why can't poor people pay they rent?
Cause love and hate, both sides are conjoined
Physical forms have to deal with both sides of the coin
Why do we die?
So you can live
Why do we strive?
So you can win
But why do you defy every truthful word I recommend?
My question back is: Why do you recommend then throw temptation in?
So I can test you patience and tolerance in the face of sin
But why a test when you hold all the answers to the state we in?
For you to bear witness to imperfections of mortal man
So it's a lesson?
And a blessing journey back to where you've been
Cause before the tree can flourish, seeds must first be planted in!
Chorus (David Byrne, The Crack Alley Children's Choir & Gift of Gab)
People grow in my back yard
In my garden, in my heart
If you like my garden, you might like me
Underneath the people tree
Outro
Getting closer to God!
Getting closer to God!
Call upon your God!
Closer to God!
He'll answer your question!
Closer to God!
God said I trust you!
Behold!
Who are you?
I'm God muthafucka and I'm not who you thought I was!
They better be giving me all the respect
All y'all, all y'all, all y'all, all y'all check yo self!
Cause I'm God!
Hello hello hello hello
Feel me, feel me, feel me all you
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
I blogged this song before, but I was listening to it as I walked to work this morning and was struck by the depth of the lyrics as well as the very catchy yet understated style of the rap, so I'll blog it again with the lyrics. I found the lyrics on one of those lyrics websites but they were quite badly transcribed (perhaps one of those "by machine" transcriptions?), so I tried to make some repairs – I'm sorry if any errors that remain.
Lo que estoy escuchando en este momento.
The Mexican Institute of Sound, "El micrófono."
Letra:
El micrófono se ha vuelto un arma de moda
Yo prefiero utilizarlo para hablar en las rolas
Aunque luego mi discurso sea bien limitado
Y mis rimas sean baratas como que hablo cortado
Za za za zapatito blanco zapatito azul
Dime cuántas rimas tienes tú
Cuántos pandilleros has matado para que te persiga el estado
Que todos los hechos tienen un efecto
Ofendes a un machín que es poderoso
Asi que para tu micrófono y vete a tu casa
Ponte a ver los Simpsons hasta la madrugada
Oyete unos discos de Café Tacuba
Pídete una pizza pa' dormir con agrura
El micrófono se ha vuelto un arma de moda
El micrófono se ha vuelto un arma de moda
El micrófono se ha vuelto un arma de moda
El micrófono se ha vuelto un arma de moda
El tiempo sigue igual
El tiempo sigue igual
Sigue igual
Sigue igual
Si aún te quedan ganas con ocho temporadas
Ponte tus tennis y saca a bailar
A dos señoritas que tengan bigotito
Pa' que a una la puedas besar
Si en la calle te encuentras a los que insultaste
Dí que fue otro y que le pegaste
Solo lo solo
Claudio Yagarto Selena da igual
Que todos los hechos tienen un efecto
Ofendes a un machín que es poderoso
Asi que para tu micrófono y vete a tu casa
Ponte a ver los Simpons hasta la madrugada
Oyete unos discos de Café Tacuba
Pídete una pizza pa' dormir con agrura
El micrófono se ha vuelto un arma de moda
El micrófono se ha vuelto un arma de moda
El micrófono se ha vuelto un arma de moda
El micrófono se ha vuelto un arma de moda
El tiempo sigue igual
El tiempo sigue igual
Sigue igual
Sigue igual
El tiempo sigue igual
El tiempo sigue igual
Sigue igual
Sigue igual
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
