My life here in Rockpit, Alaska, with my uncle Arthur has evolved some very stolid routines. One of these routines is that after dinner (which is always promptly at 5 PM), we watch TV for one or two hours.
Arthur chooses the programming. Some I like better than others. Recently we have been watching episodes of the 2001-2002 series A Nero Wolfe Mystery, based on the detective novels and stories by Rex Stout.
Arthur and I were watching the episode entitled “The Silent Speaker“. This line, “acute malignant optimism,” was used in that episode. There are lot of entertaining and interesting turns of phrase in the series, reflecting the unique voice of the original writing by Stout. I find it entertaining. Arthur, who rarely reacts to the TV these days (much less than in my memories of the past), laughed out loud. I found it interesting that that was the biggest laugh I’ve heard out of him in a long time. It suited his character, I suppose.
We are suffering, here, of acute malignant optimism. What to do?
Wayne Pealo, Arthur's friend and Keith's brother-in-law who visited the last few weeks, is handy with one of those video-making tools. He made a "movie trailer" about his visit to Rockpit (Arthur's name for his "Estate" here). It's pretty cool. And I'm quoted: "Spellbinding," I say.
Yáahl uu st'igáalaan, hal st'i'áwyaagaan. 'Wáadluu xíl hal tlaahláayaan. Gut'iláa k'íit k'uts hal ts'asláangaan. 'Wáadluu sáng kwáan hal néilaan gyaan hal 'lagáalaan Asgáayst hal xitgwáangaan táawk uu hal diyáangaan. 'Wáadluu, chíin kwáan gándlaay aa hal táagaan. Hal sk'ísdlaayaan gyaan xitgáay aa hal jagíyaayaan. 'Wáadluu hingáan an sáanjuudaayaan. Ahljíihl uu tl' hlgúujuu jahlíis gám 'láa'anggang.
This story is in the Haida language, which is the native language of Prince of Wales Island, where my uncle's home is and where I will be moving. Here is a translation from the same website where I found the story.
Raven
Raven got sick, he was very sick. Then he made some medicine. He boiled different kinds of tree roots. Then he drank it for many days and got well. Then he flew around looking for food. Then he ate a lot of fish in a creek. He got full and couldn't fly. So, then, he just rested. That is why it doesn't pay to be too greedy.
by Erma Lawrence Original version published in: Xaadas Gyaahláang (1974), Society for the Preservation of Haida Language and Literature.
Control Machete – De Perros Amores. The video is weird, creepy, and borderline NSFW. That said, it's a scene from the eponymous movie for which this song is the title track.
La calidad de las letras disponibles en línea no es muy buena, e hice varios cambios y ajustes, pero todavía no son exactos. Parece que probablemente había mal entendido por lo menos algunas palabras. Específicamente, yo siempre he oído la línea del coro "atardece en ti" como "harta de sentir" – frase que igual incluso tiene su propio sentido dentro de la lógica de la canción. Tal vez la ambigüidad es intencional.
Letras.
Suficientes son los problemas de un solo día Como para preocuparse del futuro (¿Cual?) Olvidamos que para poder llegar al otro lado Hay que empezar derribando el primero de los muros Nos pasamos la vida viendo triunfos y fracasos Conseguidos en tiempo pretérito ¿Cuantas veces se ha detenido el sol a mediodía? (¿Cuantas?) ¿Por que ya no quiere vivir más atardeceres? (¿Cuantas veces?)
El negro dejara de ser negro sin el blanco El bueno dejara de ser bueno sin el malo
Rutina repetitiva que constantemente termina Puede empezar de nuevo da fruto la semilla ¿Por que envejece por que tu piel se va arrugando? El paso del tiempo una broma te está jugando ¿Sabes que la codicia puede dejarte en la ruina? ¿Quieres solucionarlo? ¡borrarlo de tu vida! de perros amores ¡borrarlo de tu vida! de perros amores ¡borrarlo de tu vida!
si alguna vez si alguna vez si alguna vez si alguna vez
Amanece el alma atardece en ti
Amanece el alma atardece en ti
acción es en real voluntad sensación, la velocidad fé e ilusión orgánica coincidencia armónica
No existe ningún borrador mágico para borrar todos los errores cometidos ¿Que pasaría si las flores solo se marchitaran? ¿O solo se quedaran como botones? Duele la realidad, duele la fantasía solo se queda en los sueños ¿Que pasaría si nunca muero? ¿y no tuviera la oportunidad de nacer de nuevo?
Amanece el alma (vuelve otra vez, aparece) atardece en ti (desapareces, te vas y vuelves)
Amanece el alma (vuelve otra vez, aparece) atardece en ti (desapareces, te vas y vuelves)
Amanece el alma (vuelve otra vez, aparece) atardece en ti (desapareces, te vas y vuelves)
Amanece el alma (vuelve otra vez, aparece) atardece en ti (desapareces, te vas y vuelves)
El viento es un caballo: óyelo cómo corre por el mar, por el cielo.
Quiere llevarme: escucha cómo recorre el mundo para llevarme lejos.
Escóndeme en tus brazos por esta noche sola, mientras la lluvia rompe contra el mar y la tierra su boca innumerable.
Escucha como el viento me llama galopando para llevarme lejos.
Con tu frente en mi frente, con tu boca en mi boca, atados nuestros cuerpos al amor que nos quema, deja que el viento pase sin que pueda llevarme.
Deja que el viento corra coronado de espuma, que me llame y me busque galopando en la sombra, mientras yo, sumergido bajo tus grandes ojos, por esta noche sola descansaré, amor mío.
Heilung, "Krigsgaldr." This looks like part of some weird Scandinavian neo-Paganist thing. But it is interesting. I find these "back-to-roots" European nativist movements culturally intriguing, but feel it's regrettable the way they get coopted by various racist and authoritarianist ideologues. I have no idea what specific ideologies are associated with this Danish group, but if they turn out to be offensive, I offer my apologies in advance. I mostly just find it linguistically and culturally interesting, and would remark on the interesting coincidences with ancient cultures all over the world – these performers are not that different from e.g. efforts to recover or reconstruct Native American pre-contact cultures. I think the non-English parts, below, are no variety of modern Scandinavian, but rather intended to be some kind of "proto-Nordic" as recovered from some ancient runic inscriptions – that's what is linguistically interesting to me.
Lyrics.
Min Warb Naseu Wilr Made Thaim I Bormotha Hauni
Hu War Hu War Opkam Har a Hit Lot
Got Nafiskr Orf Auim Suimade Foki Afa Galande
What am I supposed to do If I want to talk about peace and understanding But you only understand the language of the sword What if I want to make you understand that the path you chose leads to downfall But you only understand the language of the sword What if I want to tell you to leave me and my beloved ones in peace But you only understand the language of the sword
I let the blade do the talking… So my tongue shall become iron And my words the mighty roar of war Revealing my divine anger´s arrow shall strike
All action for the good of all I see my reflection in your eyes But my new age has just begun
The sword is soft In the fire of the furnace It hungers to be hit And wants to have a hundred sisters In the coldest state of their existence They may dance the maddest In the morass of the red rain
Beloved brother enemy I sing my sword song for you The lullaby of obliteration So I can wake up with a smile And bliss in my heart And bliss in my heart And bliss in my heart
Coexistence, Conflict, combat Devastation, regeneration, transformation That is the best I can do for you
I see a grey gloom on the horizon That promises a powerful sun to rise To melt away all moons It will make the old fires of purification Look like dying embers Look like dying embers Look like dying embers
Min Warb Naseu Wilr Made Thaim I Bormotha Hauni
Hu War Hu War Opkam Har a Hit Lot
Got Nafiskr Orf Auim Suimade Foki Afa Galande
Hu War Hu War Opkam Har a Hit Lot
Ylir Men Aero Their Era Mela Os
I found some vague gestures at translation, and will only offer that the part I used as this blog post's title, "Foki Afa Galande", seems to correspond to a meaning "land of shining meadows".
The official video of the same song released by the group is interesting, too.
I recently learned that the famous classic rock song, "Smoke On The Water," by British rockers Deep Purple, was written about events at Montreux, Switzerland, which took place there in 1971 at the same time that the famous Russian-American author Vladimir Nabokov was resident there. It's interesting to imagine Nabokov and the members of Deep Purple interacting in a small French-Swiss town. Nabokov was of a different generation, but he might have been interested in rock music, given his fascination with other aspects of emergent pop culture.
What I'm listening to right now.
Deep Purple, "Smoke On The Water."
We all came out to Montreux On the Lake Geneva shoreline To make records with a mobile We didn't have much time Frank Zappa and the Mothers Were at the best place around But some stupid with a flare gun Burned the place to the ground
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky Smoke on the water
They burned down the gambling house It died with an awful sound Funky Claude was running in and out Pulling kids out the ground When it all was over We had to find another place But Swiss time was running out It seemed that we would lose the race
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky Smoke on the water
We ended up at the Grand Hotel It was empty cold and bare But with the Rolling truck Stones thing just outside Making our music there With a few red lights and a few old beds We make a place to sweat No matter what we get out of this I know, I know we'll never forget
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky Smoke on the water
Childish Gambino (AKA Donald Glover) has a new song / video out. It's quite remarkable, and has received high critical praise from important media™. There is a detailed parsing of the video and song at Huffington Post, for example.
It's a rap song. It's also a dance composition. It's cinematography and poetry. It's also hefty, deep and dark social criticism. Make of it what you will. I'm impressed.
What I'm listening to right now.
Childish Gambino, "This is America." Is this America?
[Bridge: Childish Gambino & Young Thug] We just wanna party Party just for you We just want the money Money just for you I know you wanna party Party just for me Girl, you got me dancin' (yeah, girl, you got me dancin') Dance and shake the frame We just wanna party (yeah) Party just for you (yeah) We just want the money (yeah) Money just for you (you) I know you wanna party (yeah) Party just for me (yeah) Girl, you got me dancin' (yeah, girl, you got me dancin') Dance and shake the frame (you)
[Chorus: Childish Gambino] This is America Don't catch you slippin' up Don't catch you slippin' up Look what I'm whippin' up This is America (woo) Don't catch you slippin' up Don't catch you slippin' up Look what I'm whippin' up
[Verse 1: Childish Gambino, Blocboy JB, Slim Jxmmi, Young Thug, & 21 Savage] This is America (skrrt, skrrt, woo) Don't catch you slippin' up (ayy) Look at how I'm livin' now Police be trippin' now (woo) Yeah, this is America (woo, ayy) Guns in my area (word, my area) I got the strap (ayy, ayy) I gotta carry 'em Yeah, yeah, I'ma go into this (ugh) Yeah, yeah, this is guerilla (woo) Yeah, yeah, I'ma go get the bag Yeah, yeah, or I'ma get the pad Yeah, yeah, I'm so cold like yeah (yeah) I'm so dope like yeah (woo) We gon' blow like yeah (straight up, uh)
[Refrain: Choir & Childish Gambino] Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, tell somebody You go tell somebody Grandma told me Get your money, Black man (get your money) Get your money, Black man (get your money) Get your money, Black man (get your, Black man) Get your money, Black man (get your, Black man) Black man
[Chorus: Childish Gambino, Slim Jxmmi, & Young Thug] This is America (woo, ayy) Don't catch you slippin' up (woo, woo, don't catch you slippin', now) Don't catch you slippin' up (ayy, woah) Look what I'm whippin' up (Slime!) This is America (yeah, yeah) Don't catch you slippin' up (woah, ayy) Don't catch you slippin' up (ayy, woo) Look what I'm whippin' up (ayy)
[Verse 2: Childish Gambino, Quavo, Young Thug, & 21 Savage] Look how I'm geekin' out (hey) I'm so fitted (I'm so fitted, woo) I'm on Gucci (I'm on Gucci) I'm so pretty (yeah, yeah) I'm gon' get it (ayy, I'm gon' get it) Watch me move (blaow) This a celly (ha) That's a tool (yeah) On my Kodak (woo, Black) Ooh, know that (yeah, know that, hold on) Get it (get it, get it) Ooh, work it (21) Hunnid bands, hunnid bands, hunnid bands (hunnid bands) Contraband, contraband, contraband (contraband) I got the plug in Oaxaca (woah) They gonna find you like blocka (blaow)
[Refrain: Choir, Childish Gambino, & Young Thug] Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, tell somebody America, I just checked my following list and You go tell somebody You mothafuckas owe me Grandma told me Get your money, Black man (black man) Get your money, Black man (black man) Get your money, Black man (get your, Black man) Get your money, Black man (get your, Black man) Black man (One, two, three, get down) Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, tell somebody You go tell somebody Grandma told me, "Get your money" Get your money, Black man (Black man) Get your money, Black man (Black man) Get your money, Black man (Black man) Get your money, Black man (Black man) Black man
[Outro: Young Thug] You just a Black man in this world You just a barcode, ayy You just a Black man in this world Drivin' expensive foreigns, ayy You just a big dawg, yeah I kenneled him in the backyard No probably ain't life to a dog For a big dog
My friend Bob asked me if I could help him make sense of the lyrics to this 18th century Mexican musical composition. Unfortunately I don't think I was much use. Anyway it was interesting to try, and interesting to see what was going on culturally in Mexico City in the 1700's.
What I'm listening to right now.
Manuel de Sumaya, "Sol-fa de Pedro," performed by Chanticleer.
Letra.
Estribillo Sol-fa de Pedro es el llanto. Oiga, el mundo sí es así. Pues saben unir los gorgeos de sus voces, lo duro de su sentir, del cromático explicar, del blando y del duro herir; qu'en el llanto dice Pedro. He hallado lo que perdí del sol la vez que lloré porque me alumbró él a mí.
Copla 1 Vengan, vengan a oír, verán el entonar en el gemir. Vengan a oír del contrapunto lo dulce y subtil al sol la vez que lloré porque me alumbró él a mí.
Estribillo Sol-fa de Pedro es el llanto. Oiga, el mundo si es así. Pues saben unir los gorgeos de sus voces, lo duro de su sentir, del cromático explicar, del blando y del duro herir; qu'en el llanto dice Pedro. He hallado lo que perdí del sol la vez que lloré porque me alumbró él a mí.
Copla 2 Desde el ut la pena mía me subió cuando caí, a la perdida gloria y a mí la gloria sin fin.
Estribillo Sol-fa de Pedro es el llanto. Oiga, el mundo si es así. Pues saben unir los gorgeos de sus voces, lo duro de su sentir, del cromático explicar, del blando y del duro herir; qu'en el llanto dice Pedro. He hallado lo que perdí del sol la vez que lloré porque me alumbró él a mí.
– Manuel de Zumaya (compositor mexicano, 1678 – 1755)
The above is a fragment of a poem in the Sakha (Yakut) language, and is part of the Yakuts national traditional epic poetic oeuvre, Olonkho.
Obviously, I don’t know the Sakha (Yakut) language. On a really good day I command a few hundred words of rusty college Russian, at best.
But I like unusual languages. And I like poetry. And, if you accept the controversial Altaic hypothesis, perhaps Sakha is a very distant relative of Ancient Korean. Anyway, they’re sort of in the same cultural neighborhood, albeit a bit farther north, in east-central Siberia: today it is -41 C in Yakutsk, while here in sunny 고양시 we have a balmy -8 C.
I came across a translation of the poem on the blog of the philosopher and polymathic philologist Justin Erik Halldór Smith. Smith is currently a professor at the University of Paris 7 but he is a native of Northern California – like myself and, furthermore, he is of my generation, more or less – and thus he is someone whose occasional reflections on his youth in the green-hilled, hippie-infested comarcas of The City [San Francisco] have always had exceptional resonances for me. Anyway, his translation is strikingly good poetry, in itself, and, I presume, faithful to the original, given his scholarly abilities.
Under that primordial
shining and lucid sky,
where the two-legged, having
a mortal body and hollow bones,
knowing war and battle,
acquainted with strife and discord,
having a vulnerable brain
and a trembling soul,
must be fruitful —
with the cool windy western sky,
with the good generous eastern sky,
with the insatiable thirsty southern sky,
with the impetuous whirling northern sky,
with the shivering breadth of the sea,
with the heaving depth of the sea,
with the swelling abyss of the sea,
with the twirling axis of the sea,
with the unbounded reach of the sea,
with the revered aiy [nature spirits] who lie beyond,
with the radiant aiy [nature spirits] who guard,
with abundant yellow nectar,
with generous white nectar,
encircling us in the manifold of stars,
in the herds of countless stars,
in the traces of rare stars,
with the full moon accompanying it,
with the bright sun leading it,
with purifying roars of thunder,
with the smite of bolts of lightning,
with moistening cloud-bursts of rain,
with sultry hot breath,
with the drying out and again the replenishing of waters,
with the falling down and again the growing up of woods,
with inexhaustible generous gifts,
with origins from gently sloping mountains,
with gardens from earthen mountains,
with a hot and giving summer,
with the turning axis of the center,
with four converging sides,
with such high firmament,
what you tread on, will not give way,
what you rattle, will not lurch,
with such an unfathomable breadth,
what you press, will not bend,
eight-chambered, eight-sided,
with six circles,
with disquiet and worry,
in luxurious attire and ornament,
serenely peaceful,
always-existing Mother Earth,
shining like a silver buckle
on a horned hat with a feather.
The Chainsmokers (with Coldplay), "Something Just Like This." The video is "unofficial," but cute and sappy. This was a song chosen by one of my middle-school CC classes recently. I'm letting them choose their own songs completely, now. It's going pretty well, actually.
Lyrics
I've been reading books of old The legends and the myths Achilles and his gold Hercules and his gifts Spiderman's control And Batman with his fists And clearly I don't see myself upon that list
But she said, "Where d'you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I'm not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts. Some superhero, Some fairytale bliss. Just something I can turn to. Somebody I can kiss. I want something just like this."
Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Oh, I want something just like this Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo
Oh, I want something just like this I want something just like this
I've been reading books of old The legends and the myths The testaments they told The moon and its eclipse And Superman unrolls A suit before he lifts But I'm not the kind of person that it fits
She said, "Where d'you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I'm not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts. Some superhero, Some fairytale bliss. Just something I can turn to. Somebody I can miss. I want something just like this. I want something just like this."
Oh, I want something just like this Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Oh, I want something just like this Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo
"Where d'you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I'm not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts. Some superhero, Some fairytale bliss. Just something I can turn to. Somebody I can kiss. I want something just like this."
Oh, I want something just like this Oh, I want something just like this Oh, I want something just like this
I had a flu some weeks back, and I feel I have not ever really recovered.
This whole week I have slept at least two hours longer than my normal sleep time each night, which for me a reliable sign that something is amiss with my general health. Despite my occasional bouts of hypochondria, I don't think worry about cancer is well-placed, since just a few weeks ago I passed my semiannual inspection successfully. I'm just feeling unhealthy and consequently rather glum about life.
I should add to the above the fact my normally predominant escapist hobby – my geofiction – has been on indefinite hold due to a strong sensation of burnout with respect to what you might call the internal politics of the website where I was engaged in that.
So I have been feeling adrift and painfully uncreative – allowing a possible exception for my daily effort at poetry, but with the caveat that even there, I am "depleting my reserves" rather than doing much that is new.
So what am I doing with my time, outside of work and sleep?
I have been reading history. Almost exclusively, and for many hours each day. I began, a few weeks back, with a curiosity about the Byzantine Empire, I have been wandering off wherever my interest leads: Sassanids (Persian pre-Islamic); Avars and Lombards and Franks and Visigoths; Khazars and Göktürks. It's notable that with the internet as it is today, one hardly needs to go out and buy books to pursue these eccentricities.
From this reading, I have only this generalization to draw:
The world is always just about to end. There is nothing new under the sun.
I thought she might not. She seemed a forever type of person. But actually everyone dies.
She was a great writer. And a philosopher, though not in the conventional sense. I don't need to review her life or work – others can do that better than I can. But her writing has influenced me profoundly.
I was 12 years old when I first read the Earthsea series of fantasy books. And I really doubt that I have spent a single day in my life since then when that imagined world hasn't crossed my mind in some way or another. It's a visceral thing – I don't know that the philosophical and psychological ideas there were so impactful – though they're undeniably present in the books. I only mean that I imagined that world quite vividly, in reading those books. and so now I think of it, much as one remembers a memorable trip, perhaps. For example, I think every day of the years I lived in Mexico, or the two months I spent in South America, or my one month studying in Paris, or my six months in Chicago. They were profound and memorable experiences, which shaped who I am. Likewise, the reading of those books, at that time in my life, left a similar type of indelible impression.
Her novel The Dispossessed had a more philosophical impact on me. I consider it a great philosophical novel. The "sci-fi" aspect is nearly irrelevant, except as a way to set the scene – the same story could have been written in a different way, set on Earth in some slightly altered historical context. I would put this book in my Universal Recommended books list.
The internet wins the day. It turns out that H.P. Lovecraft's apocalyptically-themed poem "Nemesis" is a perfect metrical fit for Billy Joel's "Piano Man."
And then someone made it happen.
What I'm listening to right now.
Julian Velard, "Nemesis" – lyrics by H.P. Lovecraft, melody by Billy Joel.
Lyrics – "Nemesis."
Thro’ the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber, Past the wan-moon’d abysses of night, I have liv’d o’er my lives without number, I have sounded all things with my sight; And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright.
I have whirl’d with the earth at the dawning, When the sky was a vaporous flame; I have seen the dark universe yawning, Where the black planets roll without aim; Where they roll in their horror unheeded, without knowledge or lustre or name.
I had drifted o’er seas without ending, Under sinister grey-clouded skies That the many-fork’d lightning is rending, That resound with hysterical cries; With the moans of invisible daemons that out of the green waters rise.
I have plung’d like a deer thro’ the arches Of the hoary primordial grove, Where the oaks feel the presence that marches And stalks on where no spirit dares rove; And I flee from a thing that surrounds me, and leers thro’ dead branches above.
I have stumbled by cave-ridden mountains That rise barren and bleak from the plain, I have drunk of the fog-foetid fountains That ooze down to the marsh and the main; And in hot cursed tarns I have seen things I care not to gaze on again.
I have scann’d the vast ivy-clad palace, I have trod its untenanted hall, Where the moon writhing up from the valleys Shews the tapestried things on the wall; Strange figures discordantly woven, which I cannot endure to recall.
I have peer’d from the casement in wonder At the mouldering meadows around, At the many-roof’d village laid under The curse of a grave-girdled ground; And from rows of white urn-carven marble I listen intently for sound.
I have haunted the tombs of the ages, I have flown on the pinions of fear Where the smoke-belching Erebus rages, Where the jokulls loom snow-clad and drear: And in realms where the sun of the desert consumes what it never can cheer.
I was old when the Pharaohs first mounted The jewel-deck’d throne by the Nile; I was old in those epochs uncounted When I, and I only, was vile; And Man, yet untainted and happy, dwelt in bliss on the far Arctic isle.
Oh, great was the sin of my spirit, And great is the reach of its doom; Not the pity of Heaven can cheer it, Nor can respite be found in the tomb: Down the infinite aeons come beating the wings of unmerciful gloom.
Thro’ the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber, Past the wan-moon’d abysses of night, I have liv’d o’er my lives without number, I have sounded all things with my sight; And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright.
Here is another version – nicer implementation (more true to the darker spirit of Lovecraft), but incomplete.
Another picture in what seems to be turning into a series of student artwork inspired by my whiteboard cartoon alligators. There seems to be a sort of competition emerging among the youngest cohort of students, as to who can present me with the most elaborate drawing of alligators. These alligators are a "couple" (커플 [keopeul] a "konglish" borrowing into Korean) on some kind of romantic getaway to Paris, evidently.
I like Yejun's work because it's actually rather sophisticated, in a technical way – note how she's drawn the screen of the "phone" (the 2010's version of what was once called a "camera") being used to take the picture of the alligator couple. She's got a reduced-size version of the scene being photographed, represented in a rather realistic way. This shows quite a bit of understanding of things like points-of-view and even perspective, for a 2nd grader, and exploits a conceit common to much great art: that of the "picture within a picture."
The phrase “jump the shark” is a contemporary idiom that means that moment when something that was for a long time a serious artistic undertaking is transformed into a kind of parody of itself, as the work’s creators pursue novelty. Originally it was applied to TV shows and other works of a serial or episodic nature – e.g. book series, etc. Nowadays, the idiom seems applicable to anything where an initially earnest project becomes self-parody. I believe the expression arose in a critical discussion of a certain episode of the TV series “Happy Days.”
So this happened to that project called “United States of America.” The USA has jumped the shark. I have evidence.
Exhibit A:
It doesn’t even matter if this is intentional satire or if it “real.” It is out there.
Some points to consider:
History repeats itself, “the first as tragedy, then as farce.” – Karl Marx.
At what point does satire, parody, or fiction also become reality (e.g. we have a president who emerged from the realm of “reality TV” – which has always been a type of fiction)?
Finally – we must never, ever misinterpret stupidity or ignorance as evil.
Slightly related:
Perhaps Obama’s biggest mistake: the blogger “Atrios” at Eschaton blog speculates that Obama should bear some of the blame for the current mess in the White House: “Do not sanction powers you do not want your successor to have.”
It was December 24th on Hollis Ave in the dark When I seen a man chilling with his dog in the park I approached very slowly with my heart full of fear Looked at his dog, oh my God, an ill reindeer But then I was illin because the man had a beard And a bag full of goodies, 12 o'clock had neared So I turned my head a second and the man had gone But he left his driver's wallet smack dead on the lawn I picked the wallet up then I took a pause Took out the license and it cold said "Santa Claus" A million dollars in it, cold hundreds of G's Enough to buy a boat and matching car with ease But I'd never steal from Santa, cause that ain't right So I'm going home to mail it back to him that night But when I got home I bugged, cause under the tree Was a letter from Santa and all the dough was for me
D.M.C.:
It's Christmas time in Hollis Queens Mom's cooking chicken and collard greens Rice and stuffing, macaroni and cheese And Santa put gifts under Christmas trees Decorate the house with lights at night Snow's on the ground, snow white so bright In the fireplace is the yule log Beneath the mistle toe as we drink egg nog The rhymes you hear are the rhymes of Darryl's But each and every year we bust Chrsitmas carols (Christmas melodies)
Run-D.M.C.:
Rhymes so loud and proud you hear it It's Christmas time and we got the spirit Jack Frost chillin, the orchas out? And that's what Christmas is all about The time is now, the place is here And the whole wide world is filled with cheer
D.M.C.:
My name's D.M.C. with the mic in my hand And I'm chilling and coolin just like a snowman So open your eyes, lend us an ear We want to say
A Capella Science, “Evo-Devo (Despacito Biology Parody).” This song is truly awesome. It’s evolutionary biology. It’s poetry. It’s music. It’s all in a package, like the miracle of life, itself. For the prototype of which this song is a “parody,” see here.
Lyrics.
EVO-DEVO
Huxley
B. Mac.
Oh Carroll, Carroll
Gould, Stephen Jay yeah
D-D-D-D-Davidson and Peter
See
One cell divide and decide on a thousand fates
Did you ever figure how they know?
B. Mac.
We
Are built of modules combined in a planned out way
Each new piece must be told where to go
Oh
Now there’s a science helping us to understand
How our cells encode this architectural plan
Signalling each other with genetic tools oh
Oh yeah
Wow
Phenotype the interface for mouse and man
Genotype the files and the subprograms
What then are the switches, circuit boards and boot code?
Evo-Devo
Looking at the logic in the ways that we grow
Every gene directed by a signal key code
Proteins that can activate, enhance or veto
Evo-Devo
Signals are controlled by other genes that signal
Calculating in a network labyrinthal
Where the heart and liver and the hands and feet go
Signal mapping tells each region what it ought to be yo
With circuits so deeply built upon
They’re older than the Paleo
The Paleozoic Era baby
In a crucial pathway changes tend to get torpedoed
Where they go calamity goes
As this cyclopic sheep knows..
See down they cascade like a domino
Like you and I drosophila
The path that makes us optical
Was laid a long long time ago
Back before we blew up the cambrian like a bomb bomb
Now my eye protein can make you see out of your bom bom
And Hedgehog and its relatives like Indian and Sonic
Set up set up in a gradient on segments embryonic
Split forebrains and asymmetric parts depend upon it
Flipping on genetic switches and logic
From devo to evo
Adult and embryo
Mostly don’t evolve in the genes of the genome
Safer the mutation aimed at regulation
Keep the building blocks and swap their activation
From devo to evo
Parts have alter egos
Homologs evolved from repeats in the schema
Switch a couple bases in the proper places
You’ll be watching flies grow legs out of their faces oh yeah
Evo-Devo
Stick around for Modern Synthesis the sequel
Only by combining can a new theory grow
Evolution and development amigos
Evo-Devo
Signals trigger patterns of complexity so
Switching up the switches of a signalling node
Gives a modular and simple way to evolve
Look at how our spinal segments generate a neat row
Built on a molecular clock
One cycle, one vertebra
One vertebra one vertebra baby
Speeding up its rate is snakes’ developmental cheat code
That and where a lizard’s feet grow
They turn off distal aminos
Evo-Devo
This is how we go from single cells to people
Every generation and in life primeval
Life in variations endless and beautiful
Badaboom
From devo to evo
Larva to mosquito
Patterns are resolved as the signals proceed yo
Map out a gene with a glow tag
Kill it with a morpholino
Short oligo morpholino baby
From devo to evo
Voyage of the Beagle
Body plans evolve when proteins steer the genome
In this manner life’s beauty grows
Aesthetica in vivo
Sometimes, it can be interesting to try to look at the world from a truly different perspective. For example, how does ice cream see the world? How about ice cream that's dropped a few hits of acid and suffers some kind of mental disorder?
Warning: Do not watch this video if you are easily annoyed.
"People on the side of The People always ended up disappointed, in any case. They found that The People tended not to be grateful or appreciative or forward-thinking or obedient. The People tended to be small-minded and conservative and not very clever and were even distrustful of cleverness. And so the children of the revolution were faced with the age-old problem: it wasn't that you had the wrong kind of government, which was obvious, but that you had the wrong kind of people." – Terry Pratchett
I guess this quote is from one of Pratchett's Discworld books – which, frankly, I never managed to read all the way through, and I enjoyed what I did read so little that I would be hard pressed to tell you what they are about. But he's nevertheless good at some great, quotable thoughts – he will live on through his many aphorisms, perhaps.
Hoc etiam magis haec animum te advertere par est corpora quae in solis radiis turbare videntur, quod tales turbae motus quoque materiai significant clandestinos caecosque subesse. multa videbis enim plagis ibi percita caecis commutare viam retroque repulsa reverti nunc huc nunc illuc in cunctas undique partis. scilicet hic a principiis est omnibus error. prima moventur enim per se primordia rerum, inde ea quae parvo sunt corpora conciliatu et quasi proxima sunt ad viris principiorum, ictibus illorum caecis inpulsa cientur, ipsaque proporro paulo maiora lacessunt. sic a principiis ascendit motus et exit paulatim nostros ad sensus, ut moveantur illa quoque, in solis quae lumine cernere quimus nec quibus id faciant plagis apparet aperte.
– Titus Lucretius Carus (Roman poet, 99BC-55BC),
The above are lines from Book II, lines 125-141, in Lucretius' De Rerum Natura.
Here is a prose translation to English, by John Selby Watson, 1851.
For you will see there, among those atoms in the sun-beam, many, struck with imperceptible forces, change their course, and turn back, being repelled sometimes this way, and sometimes that, every where, and in all directions. And doubtless this errant-motion in all these atoms proceeds from the primary elements of matter; for the first primordial-atoms of things are moved of themselves; and then those bodies which are of light texture, and are, as it were, nearest to the nature of the primary elements, are put into motion, and these latter themselves, moreover, agitate others which are somewhat larger. Thus motion ascends from the first principles, and spreads forth by degrees, so as to be apparent to our senses, and so that those atoms are moved before us, which we can see in the light of the sun; though it is not clearly evident by what impulses they are thus moved.
This is about Brownian motion. It was written a bit less than 2100 years ago.
In fact, hanging out at my mom's house, I have a lot of free time. A true vacation, I guess.
So I read books, as I tend to do.
I have nearly finished this history of the Roman Republic which I picked up at random the other day.
Sometimes I am struck by the parallels, culturally, militarily, or whatever, between late Republican Rome and the modern United States. Who shall be our Caesar? Julius Caesar was little more than a charismatic gangster, according this particular historian I'm reading. And it all makes sense. President Turnip is no Caesar, but is he a Marius? A Crassus? One of those guys, perhaps. Study your Roman history – I bet it's relevant.
I ran across a very weird bit of avant-garde science fiction that has been created on a sports news website (SBNation), of all places. This seems unexpected. Anyway, it's a very strange thing – it's not a straightforward sci-fi story, but rather a kind of multimedia "text" in the postmodern sense. Nevertheless, it has a narrative, and the genre is definitely sci-fi.
If you don't like unexpected animations and fiddling with your mouse to make things happen, I don't recommend it, but if you don't mind those things, give it a try: link.
The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne, Thassay so hard, so sharp the conquering, The dredful Ioy, that alwey slit so yerne, Al this mene I by love, that my feling Astonyeth with his wonderful worching So sore y-wis, that whan I on him thinke, Nat wot I wel wher that I wake or winke.
For al be that I knowe nat love in dede, Ne wot how that he quyteth folk hir hyre, Yet happeth me ful ofte in bokes rede Of his miracles, and his cruel yre; Ther rede I wel he wol be lord and syre, I dar not seyn, his strokes been so sore, But God save swich a lord! I can no more.
Of usage, what for luste what for lore, On bokes rede I ofte, as I yow tolde. But wherfor that I speke al this? not yore Agon, hit happed me for to beholde Upon a boke, was write with lettres olde; And ther-upon, a certeyn thing to lerne, The longe day ful faste I radde and yerne.
For out of olde feldes, as men seith, Cometh al this newe corn fro yeer to yere; And out of olde bokes, in good feith, Cometh al this newe science that men lere. But now to purpos as of this matere — To rede forth hit gan me so delyte, That al the day me thoughte but a lyte.
– first stanzas to long poem Parlement of Foules, by Geoffrey Chaucer (English poet, c 1343-1400)
Someone has created a version of the first part of the Biblical Book of Genesis using ONLY words that start with the letter 'A.'
1. An advent: ancient archangels architect abstract astronomy and arid asteroids. 2. All asteroids are amorphous and absent; And all asleep across aquatic anarchy. And astral angels advanced across area. 3. And Almighty asked," Appear." And all appeared aglow. 4. And Almighty approved. Aura and absence: an antagonistic arithmetic. 5. An afternoon and aurora, an aeon. 6.And atmosphere and all awash abscinded. 7. Astral air above; aquatic area abased. All as Almighty asserted. 8. Angel's abode appeared. Another afternoon, another aurora. Another aeon. 9. And Almighty authored aquatic archipelagos. Arable acreage appeared. 10. And Almighty approved.
박겨애, "곡예사의 첫 사랑." Is this song really about a love affair with a clown? It seems to be. What is it with Korean culture and clowns? I haven't quite figured that out. I wonder if this song proves beyond question that the 1970s were weird in Korea, too? The performance is from 1987, but this artist's release of the song was popular in 1978. 박겨애 is not the original composer – I found a reference to 정민섭, and that he wrote this particular song in 1966, and that maybe (depending on my ability to figure out the Korean) it is in fact a reference to a Korean folk tale – which makes more sense than it being about a western-style clown. I think maybe the terms for traditional bard/jester type characters in Korean culture (i.e. 곡예사 or 어릿광대) have been somewhat conflated with the western "clown."
가사.
줄을 타며 행복했지 춤을 추면 신이 났지 손풍금을 울리면서 사랑노래 불렀었지 공굴리며 좋아했지 노래하면 즐거웠지 흰분칠에 빨간코로 사랑 얘기 들려줬지 영원히 사랑하자 맹세했었지 죽어도 변치말자 언약했었지 울어봐도 소용없고 후회해도 소용없는 어릿광대의 서글픈 사랑 줄을 타며 행복했지 춤을 추면 신이 났지 손풍금을 울리면서 사랑노래 불렀었지
영원히 사랑하자 맹세했었지 죽어도 변치말자 언약했었지 울어봐도 소용없고 후회해도 소용없는 어릿광대의 서글픈 사랑 공굴리며 좋아했지 노래하면 즐거웠지 흰분칠에 빨간코로 사랑 얘기 들려줬지
I have been re-reading some Melville short stories. In college, during that brief period when I thought I was an English Major, I had a seminar on Melville in which we read many of these stories. This is the first time I have returned to them.
"Bartleby the Scrivener" is, of course, a famous and compelling story. Actually, I see it as a kind of case study of major (catatonic) depression, written avant la lettre so to speak. It's quite brilliant, and anticipates Kafka and 20th century nihilism too.
I was more interested in reading the diptych, "The Paradise of Bachelors and the Tartarus of Maids." Many have observed that it is a kind of allegory on the theme of the incipient capitalist mode of production – although 'allegory' seems a strong word, as it is really just a fictionalized description of the way things work. What I was struck by, however, is that it's not necessarily about early capitalism, per se. It's just about capitalism – the parallels between the situation in the two scenes – the dining scene in London and the factory in New England – and, say, capitalism as it exists in modern China, are striking. There is also, in these parallels, the notable gender-based division of labor, which is an aspect worth thinking about. Why are most of the workers in sweatshops, whether in 19th century New England or 21st century Asia, women? This question clearly preoccupied Melville profoundly. Another aspect that struck me but that critics don't seem to frequently mention: what's with the emphasis on the "paleness" of everything, at the factory? Is this some kind of oblique, inverted reference to the situation of slavery, and its relationship in turn to 19th century emergent capitalism? I feel there must be an awareness there – the decade is 1850s – abolition was in the air.
The song by Joe Hill (union organizer in the first decades of the 1900s) entitled "The Preacher and the Slave" is the origin of the phrase "pie in the sky."
Joe Hill was executed in 1915, probably framed for a murder by state authorities trying to get tamp down his troublesome politics.
What I'm listening to right now.
Utah Phillips, "The Preacher and the Slave."
Lyrics.
Long haired preachers come out ev'ry night, Try to tell you what's wrong and what's right; But when asked, how 'bout something to eat, (Let us eat) They will answer with voices so sweet; (Oh so sweet) You will eat, (You will eat) Bye and bye, (Bye and bye) in that glorious land above the sky; (way up high) work and pray, (work and pray) live on hay, (Live on hay) you'll get pie in the sky when you die. (That's a lie)
And the starvation army they play, And they sing and they clap and they pray. Till they get all your coin on the drum, Then they'll tell you when you're on the bum:
CHORUS
Holy Rollers and Jumpers come out, And they holler, they jump and they shout "Give your money to Jesus," they say, "He will cure all diseases today."
CHORUS
If you fight hard for children and wife- Try to get something good in this life- You're a sinner and bad man, they tell, When you die you will sure go to hell.
CHORUS
Workingmen of all countries unite, Side by side we for freedom will fight! When the world and its wealth we have gained, To the grafters we'll sing this refrain:
CHORUS
You will eat, bye and bye, When you've learned how to cook and to fry. Chop some wood, 'twill do you good, And you'll eat in the sweet bye and bye.
A few days ago, I mentioned the popularity of “dance covers” in Korea. Then yesterday I ran across a very interesting case of cultural diffusion: apparently dance covers of Korean pop music videos are a popular thing in Latin America, especially Mexico. The idea of South Korea exercising cultural “soft power” in Mexico intrigues me, in part due to my longstanding interest in both countries, but also because it’s just so strange, from a broader historical perspective.
Here is a group of Mexican women from the city of Monterrey, doing an almost professional-level dance cover of the Korean group Blackpink’s song “Playing With Fire.” Note that they are even lipsyncing the half Korean half English lyrics. This seems remarkable to me.
Blackpink, “Playing With Fire,” dance cover by Joking Crew.
The original…. What I’m listening to right now.
블랙핑크, “불장난.”
가사.
우리 엄만 매일 내게 말했어
언제나 남자 조심하라고
사랑은 마치 불장난 같아서 다치니까 Eh
엄마 말이 꼭 맞을지도 몰라
널 보면 내 맘이 뜨겁게 달아올라
두려움보단 널 향한 끌림이 더 크니까 Eh
멈출 수 없는 이 떨림은
On and on and on
내 전부를 너란 세상에
다 던지고 싶어
Look at me look at me now
이렇게 넌 날 애태우고 있잖아
끌 수 없어
우리 사랑은 불장난
My love is on fire
Now burn baby burn
불장난
My love is on fire
So don’t play with me boy
불장난
Oh no 난 이미 멀리 와버렸는걸
어느새 이 모든 게 장난이 아닌 걸
사랑이란 빨간 불씨
불어라 바람 더 커져가는 불길
이게 약인지 독인지 우리 엄마도 몰라
내 맘 도둑인데 왜 경찰도 몰라
불 붙은 내 심장에 더 부어라 너란 기름
kiss him will I diss him I
don’t know but I miss him
중독을 넘어선 이 사랑은 crack
내 심장의 색깔은 black
멈출 수 없는 이 떨림은
On and on and on
내 전부를 너란 불길 속으로
던지고 싶어
Look at me look at me now
이렇게 넌 날 애태우고 있잖아
끌 수 없어
우리 사랑은 불장난
My love is on fire
Now burn baby burn
불장난
My love is on fire
So don’t play with me boy
불장난
걷잡을 수가 없는 걸
너무나 빨리 퍼져 가는 이 불길
이런 날 멈추지 마
이 사랑이 오늘 밤을 태워버리게
whooo
My middle school HS1T cohort happens to be populated by only girls. Sometimes these coincidences arise – there is another middle school cohort, that I don't teach, that is all boys.
Last night they were all giggly and distracted, talking about Idols, I guess – "Idols" means kpop music stars of various types. I got grumpy and serious. I yelled loudly and made them quiet down and we worked very productively and with great focus on some TOEFL-style speaking questions. I was pleased enough that during the last 15 minutes of class, I asked them what they wanted to do. Normally they ask to play a game – card games are currently popular.
This time, however, they wanted to watch music videos. I am somewhat hesitant to turn over control of the internet to my students – it ends up being hard to find anything pedagogically redeeming. So I said if we watched videos they had to be in English. One girl said she knew just the one. I guess there is an "American Idol" style competition show where these boys are competing to become a typical kpop "boy band." They danced and lip-synced to several songs in English.
The girls didn't really listen to the music – I'm not sure they're even interested in the music. They were focused on swooning over their various favorites of the boys in the video, discussing fine points of their appearance and personalities. One girl said about her particular favorite, "I don't actually like him, but he's too handsome."
The boys are just lip-syncing – the show seems to be more a dance and beauty competition than a singing competition. That's in line with what these typical over-produced kpop groups do. They very rarely are involved in making the actual music involved – they're just a performance medium. So in the cases the girls were looking at, these are American pop songs.
In general, "dance covers" are a HUGE thing in Korean youth culture. They're all over the internet, and I have more than once come across kids literally dancing in the halls (both boys and girls), very clearly practicing moves related to one or another of these types of covers.
What I'm listening to right now.
프로듀스 101 시즌2, "Shape Of You." I think this song is originally by Ed Sheehan.
Lyrics (abbreviated as performed on Produce 101).
The club isn't the best place to find a lover So the bar is where i go Me and my friends at the table doing shots Drinking fast and then we talk slow And you come over and start up a conversation With Just me and trust me I'll give it a chance Now take my hand stop Put van the man on the jukebox And then we start to dance And now I'm singing like Girl you know I want your love Your love was handmade for somebody like me Come on now follow my lead I may be crazy Don't mind me Say boy let's not talk too much Grab on my waist and put that body on me Come on now follow my lead Come on come on now follow my lead I'm in love with your body (Shape of you) Every day discovering something brand new I'm in love with the shape of you (Shape of you) Every day discovering something brand new I'm in love with the shape of you Come on be my baby come on
프로듀스 101 시즌2, "Get Ugly." This song is originally by Jason Derulo
Lyrics (full lyrics, I think they're performing only a part of these on Produce 101)
Girl, ladies, let your hurr down Let your hurr down We's about to get down
Oh my, oh my, oh my god This girl straight and this girl not Tipsy off that peach Ciroc Like la la la Ching-a-lang-lang, ching-a-ling-a-lang-lang Jeans so tight I could see loose change Do your thang, thang, girl Do that thang like la la la
Tell them pretty faced girls tryna grabs each other And them undercover freaks who ain't nun' but trouble Baby, I'mma tell you some' only 'cause I love ya People all around the world sexy motherfuckers
Get ugly Yeah, get ugly, baby Get ugly You're too sexy to me Sexy to me You're too sexy to me Sexy to me So sexy Damn, that's ugly
Bruh, I can't, I can't even lie I'm about to be that guy Someone else gon' have to try me La la la Bang-a-rang-rang, bang-a-ring-a-rang-rang Bass in the trunk, vibrate that thang Do your thang, thang, girl Do that thang like la la la
Tell them pretty faced girls tryna grabs each other And them undercover freaks who ain't nun' but trouble Baby, I'mma tell you some' only 'cause I love ya People all around the world sexy motherfuckers
Get ugly Get ugly, baby, woo hoo And everybody say la la la Get ugly You're too sexy to me Sexy to me You're too sexy to me Sexy to me So sexy Damn, that's ugly
Ay, Ricky This beat give me that ugly face, man Everybody lose control Let's get ugly, dysfunctional Everybody lose control Let's get ugly, dysfunctional
Tell them pretty faced girls tryna grabs each other And them undercover freaks who ain't nun' but trouble Baby, I'mma tell you some' only 'cause I love ya People all around the world sexy motherfuckers
Light them up then pass that, pass that La la la Everybody lose control Let's get ugly, dysfunctional Get ugly You know what I'm talking about You're too sexy to me Sexy to me You're too sexy to me Sexy to me So sexy Damn, that's ugly
