Squawkin' like a big monkey bird.

Eno.

Tue, 22 Jul 2008 14:45:58 GMT

My favorite Eno album is Taking Tiger Mountain By Strategy. I know a lot of people SAY they like Another Green World better, but it's very hard for me to absorb the idea that they genuinely, honestly, deep-down like it better. A quick listen and it's obvious you're SUPPOSED to like AGW better, it's certainly a more serious, adult work. But it comes across as a little too sedate, even perhaps calculated. (Which is not to say it's not one of the 50 or so greatest albums of all time.) TTMBS has more of that "insane bug trying to tear it's way out of the artist's brain" that characterizes, for instance, visionary art. I suppose there's a calculated aspect, too, but it seems more like a calculation of how to lead the bug out while doing the least damage.

For my money, it's also the peak of his layered sound techniques. He's done some great stuff even recently, but this is where it really comes together, especially on really expensive equipment. This is particularly true if you could get a clean copy of the original Island pressing on vinyl. The E&G remixes are pretty good for CD, but just plain lousy on vinyl, and it's just, y'know, different than the original mix. It's odd that Eno himself did the E&G remixes, and it was some engineer that did the original Island mix, but I still prefer the original. I believe that Eno was deeply involved in the conspiracy to replace all vinyl with CD, which is why he released all his vinyl with a lousy mix that sounded much better on CD. I doubt very much that the Island mix is available in a workable CD, but we can always hope. My old vinyl pressings of all his early stuff was already pretty worn when I put all my records in storage, and they've been baking ever since, so there's no telling how they sound now.

My favorite song on there, one of my 3 or 4 favorite songs at all, is The Great Pretender. The first vinyl copy I had of this song had a scratch at the end - there was an accidental "locked track" of the cricket chirping sound during the fade-out, so that it would get almost silent and then just chirp there over and over. I might digitally recreate this on a mix CD sometime, just extend the fadeout by 10 minutes or so.

I've probably posted all this blather before. I'm not sure why I'm bothering with it now except that I'm tired and feel like typing. Really, I was just in mood to post some lyrics from the album. It's not my favorite song, nor my favorite lyrics, but they just seemed so ... postable.

Now we checked out this duck quack
Who laid a big egg,
oh so black
It shone just like gold.
And the kids from the city,
Finding it pretty,
took it home,
And there it was sold.
It was changing hands for weeks till someone left it by their fire
And it melted to a puddle on the floor:
For it was only a candle, a Roman scandal oh woo oh,
Now it's a pool.

I popped this CD in the van last week and I've listened to it a couple dozen times since then. When I first heard this music, I fell in love with it. It still resonates very strongly with me. I had that teenage urge to define my identity on the basis of this music, but there was hardly anyone around who knew it well enough to make any sense of an identity like that, so I remained in my ironic state of high-profile anonymity for a few more years. Quite a few, in fact. December, if we must be precise.

Cookie.

Thu, 17 Jul 2008 22:33:07 GMT

I have a Star of David cookie here on my desk. I guess it's for Yom Kippur and Rosh Hoshana. We always get holiday cookies a couple months in advance, but I don't remember seeing these last year. Maybe it's a new thing. I should bring it home to the family for a tasting.

Keeping it real... crappy.

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 16:30:41 GMT

Yo yo yo. Stomach flu in the hizzouse.

Turning Point.

Sun, 06 Jul 2008 16:08:34 GMT

My foul moods hit rock-bottom yesterday, to the point that it became entheogenic (without interesting visuals, of course). Sort of a grumpiphany, if you will. Then some very powerful dreams last night, and today I'm like a new man, or my old self, or something.

I'm not necessarily happy, but that's not necessarily my goal. Words like "satisfied" or "content" come closer, but still miss the mark. Whatever it is, it's much better than I've been lately.

Back update.

Mon, 30 Jun 2008 17:08:19 GMT

I don't want to jinx it, but my back seems fine today. Been stretching, especially my legs, and I've been careful with lifting and bending.

I missed out on some fun this weekend, but I was able to salve my fragile male ego with some manly activities, like smoking a brisket, drinking beer at dawn (tasting before basting), and a trip to Lowe's. The brisket's delicious, but a little dry.

I realized today that I've hardly hung out with anyone since Flipside. I hope you're all having too much fun to miss me, but not so much that you won't be glad to have me around next time.

Ouch. Grr.

Sat, 28 Jun 2008 19:13:32 GMT

My fucking back is hurting. Lower back pain. Pain makes me grumpy. This pain limits my motion, which fucks up my plans. And that makes me feel weak. And that really pisses me off.

I don't think this is a major, chronic issue. But I know that pushing it and pretending it was no big deal would risk bringing into that arena.

No decomp for me and Jago.

Who loves ya?

Fri, 27 Jun 2008 14:27:17 GMT

I had this stuck in my head. Because I haven't fully unpacked my cables from Flipside, my officemate's computer is connected to our speakers and I can't hook up. So I send him the link.

He starts giggling right away.
"I could listen to this for hours."
"I'm okay with that."
"Ha ha. 'I'm okay with that.' I have the greatest officemate in the world."

Border.

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 19:38:25 GMT

Grey.

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 19:47:04 GMT

Not posting much, not reading much. Busy. Most of it's too boring to recount.

Highlights, such as they are: Child overheating; van febrile. Both "better" now, but neither truly "well". Child's prognosis excellent. Van, not so much.

Ahh, Cheese.

Mon, 09 Jun 2008 22:27:31 GMT

Carr Valley. Any of it. Especially the "Billy Blue". The cave-aged goat is good, too. And finally a competent goat brie. (Finally for me, maybe some of y'all have seen good ones that I don't know about.)

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 22:57:02 GMT

bold lotus onus
blood on lintel enters
sold bodily ontology
otitus modus anemia
float us on your motor showbus

Lookit Me!

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 17:04:00 GMT

Been thinking lately. I realized this weekend that a huge issue for me "lately" has been how others perceive me.

This came as a bit of a surprise to me, since I feel like I've worked through issues of self-consciousness several times in the past. Maybe it's something I have to work through every so often, or maybe I'm working through another level of it now.

I spend a lot of time and energy and "brain cycles" trying to figure out what other people are thinking about me. I also put a lot of effort into changing other people's perceptions of me.

One of the ironies of this, of course, is that I feel very out of touch with how other people view the world. I feel like my perspective is very different from other peoples', to the point that I can barely understand how most people think and feel about things, and why. I don't understand why you people think the way you do about pocket calculators, so my attempts to manipulate, or even conceptualize, your understanding of me in particular seems quite doomed from the start.

But it's hard to avoid. The flipside of feeling judged by other people is seeking validation from other people. I want to ask people if they think my attempts are doomed, or if they feel like I shouldn't be so hard on myself, or if they think that I'm particularly good or bad at being self-conscious.

The place that I'm seeking is a balance between surrendering my own reality, my own truth, to my distorted guesses at other people's reality, other people's percetions, and acting with compassion toward other people; showing respect for their beliefs and experiences without letting them erase my own.

I guess a lot of people are seeking a similar balance. Maybe we all are.

I think maybe the difference is that I focus so much about what other people are thinking about ME in particular. I think some of this is that I've always felt different. Whether I'm better or worse, it seems like I'm so frequently different. Am I special or defective? Should I care? Shouldn't I just try to be the best me I can be, whether or not that's different from, better than, worse than, other people? Shouldn't I stop asking my friends what I should do?

This weekend, I thought a lot about my childhood. I grew up in West Michigan, in a large suburb of a small city, a town obsessed with normalcy. My parents' ethnic background fit perfectly, but their upbringing was very different from our neighbors. Add to that, I had Tourette Syndrome, an emotionally-abusive brother, and an IQ off the charts, and I was pretty quickly branded a big, giant weirdo.

Small wonder I should get involved in activities with people that celebrate weirdness.

But what is this "weirdness"? When I look at my own writings about "What Flipside should be" (or Gigsville, from years back) or "How I should live", or whatever, the word "weird" never enters into it. It's all about treating people well, about being authentic to ourselves, stuff like that. It doesn't seem all that different from things people have been writing for a long time about their own ideals for themselves or their societies.

So, am I special? Am I in your way? Am I making people make a fuss over me so I feel more special? Am I just being sincere to my own truth which is sometimes inconvenient for others? Do others judge me anyway, thinking that I'm making them make a fuss? Should that be upsetting to me? Do they think it should be upsetting to me? Are they upset because they think I'm too upset, or because they think I'm not upset enough, or are they upset about something completely different and they barely have time for thoughts about my identity or what I mean to them?

By the way, I'm not looking for answers to these questions. You're all weirdos, too, so I doubt you understand what these normal people think, or even half of your fellow weirdos. I suppose I could block comments, but that seems to put to fine a point on it. Maybe mentioning it and not doing it is even finer.

I'm left without much ending for this. I'm not really writing this to make any point, though. I'm just sharing where I'm at and what's going on in my head.

I never really posted a Flipside recap, nor anything else in awhile. I guess my Flipside recap is best summed up with the word "Yeah".

Packed.

Wed, 21 May 2008 03:44:17 GMT

I'm packed. I'm showered. I'm going to snack, sleep, and then head out there to open up the place. I'm excited. I think it's going to be a good year. I like running around and doing things, and I suspect there will be plenty of that.

Tue, 20 May 2008 22:21:11 GMT

Ticket
Phone Charger
Pay Lawn mower

Flipside Intention.

Tue, 20 May 2008 05:38:46 GMT

Balance.

Flipside.

Mon, 19 May 2008 03:29:49 GMT

I'm excited for Flipside this year. Not panicking at all. In fact, I'm calmer at this point than I've probably ever been this close to nearly any burn event.

I've been almost completely packed since about 5pm. A couple shirts in the laundry, and then some cooler items, last minute sheets and blankets, stuff like that, and I'm done. I'm taking Jago to school tomorrow and Tuesday, so I need to leave his stuff in the van until then, so I'll wait to load some items, but they're packed and ready to tuck into the van.

I feel like I've figured out my own camping style, finally. It's pretty rough, but that's how it is. If I overpack or overplan, I'll end up with a lot of unused stuff in the way. Just the basics.

Jago and I went to a birthday party this afternoon. A friend I haven't seen at all since 1996, and never knew that well to begin with. He is the one who hooked me on driving an art car, though. Great guy. Ran into someone I worked with back in 03 and 04. Also ran into Ben Shaive, from Shaive and Reilly. (sp?) Jago played with him for almost an hour. It was dandy.

Tonight, it's bed, tomorrow Jago to school, and then me to beard dying appointment, and then work-picnic, and finally a little bit of work, if I feel like it. And then LLC meeting. It's all very "full", but nothing seems super urgent. All the important bases are covered; anything missed at this point is gravy.

I'm ready.

One thing that's changed from the past is that I've finally admitted to myself that I enjoy the urgency, the maelstrom, the panic. It's neat. Pretty much everyone that rushes does; we just don't always admit it. When we do, we get happier about it. So, yeah, 'fess up.

Wow.

Tue, 13 May 2008 22:02:06 GMT

http://www.vimeo.com/993998

Alma Mater.

Thu, 08 May 2008 15:30:13 GMT

Skip down to page 5 and skim from there.
http://scavhunt1.uchicago.edu/lists/list2008.pdf

Poll for you poll-cats.

Wed, 07 May 2008 15:35:10 GMT

A friend of mine in Chicago is going to be on a panel at "WisCon" soon and is doing a little online poll as part of a discussion, and she's interested in getting a wider audience for this poll than just other attendees at this conference. From what I can tell, people reading my LJ are of a similar level of freakiness, so maybe this isn't really widening the audience, but it's fun to click buttons, right? Click some buttons:

http://lcohen.livejournal.com/429751.html

Twit.

Thu, 01 May 2008 18:43:12 GMT

# 13:41 I'm pretending to use twitter in a plain text LJ post. #
# 13:42 I never ever read twitter posts. #
# 13:42 I wonder if anyone else does. #

Advice for your third burn.

Thu, 01 May 2008 18:20:53 GMT

Fahk. I got nothing.

I'm sure that all of you who follow my LJ are reading the Flipside Flame, even those of you that would never attend. Right? Of course, right.

Anyway, I've done "Advice for your first burn" in Flame #6 and the less-useful but more-humorous "Advice for your second burn" in Flame #7.

So, obviously, lots of people are counting on me, waiting with bated breath, to see what I have to say in Flame #8 for third-years.

But I got nothing.

Updates or revisions welcomed.

RIP

Tue, 29 Apr 2008 21:45:07 GMT

Albert Hofmann died.

Fixing it.

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 01:55:51 GMT

I've had a thought brewing for a couple weeks now. Tuesday or Wednesday night, I had a dream that really helped gel it for me, and should make it easier to explain, because it's an idea I'd like to share.

In the dream, there is a small device wreaking havoc on "the city". Seems sort of like a large version of Lazytown, and I think it was on the coast of Antarctica, but it's not cold. Like Lazytown, there doesn't seem to be any official authorities or anything. My wife and I are like detectives or cops or superheroes or maybe just regular people that decided to do something. Anyway, we're trying to stop this device.

The device is like a little box, slightly larger than two fists together. It's black and rectangular or square. There's a little red light on it, or maybe it's shooting red lasers. The actual threat that it made wasn't consistent throughout the dream. It's shooting lasers, or emitting poisonous gas, or maybe some kind of sonic blast that kills or maims within a certain radius.

Anyway, the specifics of it seemed to drift around, as did the mood. Sometimes, it was exciting problem-solving, sometimes it was a feeling of futile struggle against impending doom. At one point, I remember kicking a bunch of people out of a toy store, cussing loudly and meanly, like the rebel cop from some late 70's movie.

Anyway, my wife and I had come up with a plan, and it involved outflanking this device. I went into the toy store and created a diversion or drew its fire, or something. Meanwhile, she, uh, bopped it or something from behind. Whatever she did, the thing got knocked to the ground and partly opened and was, at least temporarily, disabled.

The mood was reminiscent of whacking a cockroach, where you need to finish it up fairly soon, or it's going to run away again, and a half-dead roach is so much more awful than a lively one. Ew. I'm sorry I wrote that in such detail.

Anyway, I was bending over the thing, taking it apart, and looking at the electronics inside. I'm know a little about electricity, and I was trying to figure out how the thing worked, how it was wired up, how it had been built. I think I had in mind to figure out who had built it, even though there didn't seem to be a real risk of them creating another one. (Not sure why, it's just one of those dream things, where you have knowledge like this.)

The crux of the dream is my wife coming up behind me and making the very sensible point that it doesn't matter HOW the thing works, how it's constructed, what all the different components do together, how it came together - who cares? What matters is how can we disable it.

I felt a slight regret while I ripped off a bunch of blue capacitors and other components and threw them around. I knew that after tearing it apart, I would never really satisfy my curiosity about how it was built, but I also knew that was the safest thing to do, since there was no way it could possibly repair itself after I tore it up and spread it out like that. I didn't know how the capacitors were wired together, but I knew enough about electronics to know they were crucial to the device's destructive powers.

I also recall that there were a couple of EL-34 output tubes in it (which makes no real sense, since those wouldn't have fit in the box), and they were really, really old and dusty. There was some weird denouement about shipping lanes going north from Antarctica through the Pacific ocean, a bunch of weird shipping-container/barge things towed by a small boat, much like a train.

The whole point of the dream is "The details of how the destructive device are not nearly as important as what must be done to disable it."

This is especially true in interpersonal situations. I've had a few parallels recently at work, at home, with friends. I keep focusing on "How did we get here?" instead of "How do we get somewhere better?" Sometimes, a little knowledge of how it happened is helpful, but the details aren't worth obsessing over.

Bad Meme

Mon, 21 Apr 2008 15:52:20 GMT

The first three people who reply to this post, and who re-post this challenge: YOU LOSE!!!

As your punishment, I will steal something from you.

It might be something you've made, or something cool from your hidden stash of fabulousity. It might be a mix CD, or a rubber duck, or a book you might enjoy. A love letter, a useful object, or something else that is awesome or maybe just taking up room in your house.

Whatever it is, I promise I will swipe it from you in 3650 days of your posted comment or less.

Stop saying that.

Wed, 16 Apr 2008 15:42:55 GMT

I was driving to work this morning, thoughts wandering, having some imaginary conversation between myself and some hypothetical other person. Suddenly, a loud internal voice jumped into the discussion, in the middle, out of nowhere, and shouted "I want you to stop saying ________." The blank was some word that I had just used in my imaginary conversation. Like a lot of my internal dialogue, the word was a little bit fancy, maybe a bit pretentious. Though it wasn't an extremely rare, arrogant word. It wasn't anything that special, as far as I can remember.

Of course, now I can't remember what word it was. More strikingly, I forgot the word as soon as the loud voice said it. I turned from my imaginary conversation partner, to the loud voice, and said "What's wrong with the word .... uh .... wow. It's gone." The voice was gone and took the word with it.

No idea what it was. I think it was three or four syllables, beginning with an S or maybe a T. Something like that.