This Is It and I Am It and You Are It and So Is That and He Is It and She Is It and It Is It and That Is That
Flight of the Conchords
Where You Go I Go Too
All Y'All
Naturally
Tha Carter III
Vivian Girls
Third
Finger Poppin'
New Amerykah Part One: 4th World War
Merriweather Post Pavilion
Autumn of the Seraphs
Posted on August 31st, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Stuff.
Two days ago: finished Baum's The Sea Fairies. It ended better than it began. The first half of it was Baum's patented punning travelogue, only duller than usual. I had to look up "codfish aristocrat", for instance, and while I appreciate the education, having to look up a simple pun detracts from my enjoyment. On the other hand, the curiously philosophical happy slave, Sacho, is the best boy character apart from Button Bright in Baum.
Now I'm reading Franklin P. Adams's Tobogganing Down Parnassus. I've never read any Adams, and I collect humorists.
Posted on August 28th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Stuff.
I forgot something last month. (Sometimes I think every post by me should be started that way, with "month" being a variable.) I was seeing my doctor, only my regular doctor was on vacation, so I was seeing a substitute doctor. He was voluble, which was nice. When he was getting up to speed on my stroke, he whistled. "Jeez," he said, "your bleed was two by two by two a half inches. You should be dead." He looked at me. "I've seen some who had bleeds that big and survived, but not walking and talking. You are lucky."
I'm not used to being called lucky in regard to my stroke, but I guess I am.
Posted on August 27th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Stuff.
I got myself an ipad about two weeks ago. I watched Patrick with his, and I guessed it would be good for my half-paralysis. After one day, I realized it was not good; it was superb. I now carry it with me everywhere, taking notes, look stuff up on wikipedia, and (especially) reading books.
People ask me, is it worth it? And it definitely is: for me. But I'm an one-handed person, and it's a godsend for me. In fact, I've taken to calling it "The Book", which Velma, at least, understands.
I've read, in the last few days, a complete book, my first since the stroke (I think; my memory is shot still): Right Ho, Jeeves. It's a reread -- in fact, it's my favorite Wodehouse, and I was astonished to find it's out of print [edit: I meant "out of copyright". duh] -- and so's my second read I've reading now, The Sea Fairies by L. Frank Baum.
I'm happy (as Velma implied before).
Posted on August 26th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Stuff.
Did you know that "In New York City, (Captain) Kidd was active in the building of Trinity Church, New York"?
Posted on August 25th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Music, Songs.
Deerhunter, "Agoraphobia"
The 5th Dimension, "The Eleventh Song"
The Jam, "Thick as Thieves"
Crystal Stilts, "Alight of Night"
Antonio Carlos Jobim, "Samba de Una Nota"
Aterciopelados, "Pilas!"
Super Furry Animals, "Hometown Unicorn"
Misha Mengelberg Quartet, "Criss Cross"
Mel Torme, "Gloomy Sunday"
Henry Threadgill Very Very Circus, "Next"
Augustus Pablo, "Frozen Dub"
Clarence White, "Pretty Polly"
Brenda Lee, "Big Four Poster Bed"
Posted on August 24th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Music, Songs.
Universal Congress Of, "Gold Tooth Girl"
Regina Spektor, "Summer in the City"
Tom T. Hall, "That Song Is Driving Me Crazy"
Gogol Bordello, "Wonderlust King"
Baden Powell, "Naquele Tempo"
Carla Bley, "Greasy Gravy"
DD/MM/YYYY, "Lismer"
The Nightingales, "The Bending End"
Silver Jews, "Inside the Golden Days of Missing You"
Slapp Happy, "Tutankhamun"
Heaven 17, "Soul Warfare"
Sleater-Kinney, "Don't Talk Like"
Michelle Shocked, "Contest Coming (Cripple Creek)"
Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra, "Government Magic"
Posted on August 19th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Music.
"Four years before the birth of William Beckford the younger he became one of the Sheriffs of London, and three years after his son's birth he was Lord Mayor. As Mayor he gave very sumptuous dinners that made epochs in the lives of feeding men. His son's famous "History of the Caliph Vathek" looks as if it had been planned for an Alderman's dream after a very heavy dinner at the Mansion House. There is devotion in it to the senses, emphasis on heavy dining. Vathek piqued himself on being the greatest eater alive; but when the Indian dined with him, though the tables were thirty times covered, there was still want of more food for the voracious guest. There is thirst: for at one part of the dream, when Vathek's mother, his wives, and some eunuchs "assiduously employed themselves in filling bowls of rock crystal, and emulously presented them to him, it frequently happened that his avidity exceeded their zeal, insomuch that he would prostrate himself upon the ground to lap up the water, of which he could never have enough." And the nightmare incidents of the Arabian tale all culminate in a most terrible heartburn. Could the conception of Vathek have first come to the son after a City dinner?"
--Henry Morley, introduction to Vathek
Posted on August 13th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Stuff, Recovery.
"Dying isn't so bad," said Roger Ebert today; "it's getting sick and dying that's the hard part." It’s true. Having a stroke has a host of bad effects (he said mildly), but curing the fear of dying is a surprising blessing. I realized, very soon after almost dying, that, for me, the memory was not there; there was no bright light, no flash of recall, nothing. There was a fall in my apartment in front of Velma, and then I woke up a week later, my memories wiped. The main memory of dying was no memory. That was immensely soothing; I told my friends, if they were worried about me, dying was easy. It took me a while to realize that it was not me dying that they were worried about. The pain of the living is what the living are worried about. Me potentially dying was sorrowful, even horrifying (because it would have happened at 44); but what about Velma, who lived through my dying in front of her? Of course my dying was (theoretically) easy. Living goes on; that’s the hard part.
Posted on August 8th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Music, Albums, Lists.
I am slowly -- very slowly -- compiling a list of my favorite 999 albums from 1951 to the present, playing by the same rules as the 99 albums list (no best-of compilations, etc). I'm doing this a year at a time. This is the third shortlist, and my first post-stroke list: my 1979 top 137 (the first twenty to twenty-five will probably make the final list). This is my age fifteen list; subsequently, this is a long list.
Posted on July 9th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Words, Editing, Recovery.
My spelling is coming back -- that is, thoughtlessly, automatically -- but I still sometimes forget to spell "n", especially in a consonant blend. Maybe it's a "quiet" sound. I don't know why, but forgetting "n" is about half my spelling mistakes (until I look up and see it).
Posted on July 6th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Words, Badness, Recovery.
I'm probably going to write again. Probably. It's very hard now, but I'm realizing that not writing is harder; so I must. Writing is my self-definition, and even though I suck right now (don't argue, it's true by my own definition), not writing would mean I'd be a different person, and, really, I don't know how.
My thoughts are scattered still. I'm sitting here, trying to gather them. They're mostly outside my grasp.
One thing: Sometimes I am very depressed. That's going to be my favorite thing to write about. Well, not being depressed, but the specific manifestations of my stroke. I certainly don't mind if you go away.
Posted on June 23rd, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Words.
It is almost dizzying how much better my life is workwise and logistically now than this time last year; so much better that the edge isn’t really in sight behind me (barring health catastrophe).
--Me, less than six months before my stroke
Posted on April 13th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Words, Musicians, Comedy, Old Posts.
Debbi converted to Zoroastrianism and distributes leaflets in Fresno bus shelters. Vicki has returned to her first love, waitressing. Michael is a lobster fisher in the Maritimes. Susanna was carried off by a twister.
Posted on April 12th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Words, Badness, Comedy, Old Posts.
Looking for a man who "walks to a different drummer," "takes the road less traveled," and isn't afraid to say the emperor's naked, even when it isn't "politically correct." Are you my "free thinker"?
Posted on April 9th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Words, Oracles, Old Posts.
My question pondered, carefully rehearsed,
Submitted to an oracle profound.
The Salesman of Cubicles reversed,
The Five of Networks binding all around.
A pause, a click, an inauspicious sound,
It spits a blank. My high-tech fortune's cursed.
If tarot chips won't tell me what they've found,
I'll slink back home, and just assume the worst.
Posted on April 7th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Words, Music Criticism, Literary Criticism, Comedy, Old Posts.
While my opinion runs counter to the critical consensus, it has nothing to do with unusual bravery and insight on my part, or cowardice and conventionality on the part of my colleagues. I'm just a bit odd.
Posted on April 5th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Words, Comedy, Movies, Old Posts.
There are no bats in this movie.
No one sucks a potato through a straw.
Neither the best boy nor the gaffer ever worked with Trent Lott.
Astrology plays no meaningful role.
Queen Victoria expressed no known opinion regarding this film.
No vehicle of mass conveyance plunges over a cliff.
The credits were not signaled in morse code by Bill Robinson.
There is no mysterious pattern of hair loss among the cast members.
The screenwriter did not go on to a successful career in politics.
There are no scenes in courtrooms, mining pits, or abattoirs.
Nothing Pauline Kael has said is likely to change anyone's mind about this film.
If you cut this film into millimeter-wide strips and strung them all together, it would not reach the moon.
The plot does not turn on a deathbed confession about the oatmeal.
The film never made the American Legion's censorship list.
It is no more nutritious than most films. Probably less.
I don't remember whether mumblety-peg occurs, but it is of no great importance.
If the male lead were dropped on your foot, it would hurt.
It was not filmed in feel-o-rama.
You can't roller-skate in a buffalo herd.
Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is all in your head, as usual.
It is not NORMAN... IS THAT YOU?
Posted on March 27th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Words, Old Posts.
There have been two main things said by the opponents of drugs for the last thirty years that have been borne out by events, one overt and one covert. The first is, "If you take drugs we will do everything within our power to ruin your life." The second is, "And if we have to ruin society to do it, well, every war has collateral damage. We're destroying the nation to save it."
Posted on March 24th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Words, Comedy, Old Posts.
People describe me as odd, different, strange, a bit touched. That's their way of saying I'm a bizarroid. Sometimes they call me unusual or weird, in which case what they mean is I'm truly mental. When they want to say that I'm certifiable, instead they call me bugfuck, gonzo, waaaaay out there man. But when they describe me as deviant, atypical, outlandish, irregular, mutated, off-the-wall, kooky, loony, wacky, unorthodox, not all there, screwy, unconventional, offbeat, goony, unstable, wayward, and flaky, that's when I know that they think, deep down and after all is said and done, that I'm just a bit predictable.
Posted on March 24th, 2010 by Scraps.
Categories: Words, Old Posts.
Over the weekend I dreamed that me and a bunch of my friends were invited to take away a bunch of books from an old house. I got there too late, and all the good books were taken, but it turned out that accepting a book was actually a transmission for an alien virus, and all my friends were now part of the same hive mind, though they retained their individual personalities, which was pretty creepy when they were trying to persuade me, each in their own distinctive way, to join the hive. I knew as long as I didn't accept anything anyone else gave me I would be safe, but I had to consider the possibility that it was better to be part of an alien hive mind than still have my own will but be alone in the world.