1. Penelope Jagessar Chaffer & Tyrone Hayes: The Toxic Baby
(you go, Mr. Hayes!)
2. Garth Lenz: The True Cost of Oil
3. Amory Lovins: Winning the Oil Endgame
Showing posts with label blues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blues. Show all posts
20120224
aromatase, octyphenol and artificial musk!
Three Ted Talks:
1. Penelope Jagessar Chaffer & Tyrone Hayes: The Toxic Baby
(you go, Mr. Hayes!)
2. Garth Lenz: The True Cost of Oil
3. Amory Lovins: Winning the Oil Endgame
1. Penelope Jagessar Chaffer & Tyrone Hayes: The Toxic Baby
(you go, Mr. Hayes!)
2. Garth Lenz: The True Cost of Oil
3. Amory Lovins: Winning the Oil Endgame
20111224
yuletube
Metafilter has recently given us some seasonal compilations of youtube performances:
"my baby left me, start'd me drinkin' on christmas day" offers links that ring in blues from freddie king, blind blaake, little milton, blind lemon jefferson and many more, while "it came upon a Bb minor diminished 7th clear" compiles links ringing in jazz from charlie parker, bill evans, chet baker, dexter gordon and others. the comments to those initial posts expand on the theme with more links to more yuletubery. "hendrix hatches heavy holiday haze" does what it says on the package, while the agents at the linked playlist offer even more seasonal singles by the likes of pink floyd, twisted sister, and even this charming parody of jim morrison singing jingle bells (which, of course, in turn, makes me think that the one-horse open sleigh in question is stolen, heading west, and that, when the sun goes down, the driver is gonna get out and get into a fight before checking into the morrison hotel).
"my baby left me, start'd me drinkin' on christmas day" offers links that ring in blues from freddie king, blind blaake, little milton, blind lemon jefferson and many more, while "it came upon a Bb minor diminished 7th clear" compiles links ringing in jazz from charlie parker, bill evans, chet baker, dexter gordon and others. the comments to those initial posts expand on the theme with more links to more yuletubery. "hendrix hatches heavy holiday haze" does what it says on the package, while the agents at the linked playlist offer even more seasonal singles by the likes of pink floyd, twisted sister, and even this charming parody of jim morrison singing jingle bells (which, of course, in turn, makes me think that the one-horse open sleigh in question is stolen, heading west, and that, when the sun goes down, the driver is gonna get out and get into a fight before checking into the morrison hotel).
20111212
xmas.sux.vol.6: i want my tuppence back!
xmas sux vi: i want my tuppence back!
- santa - lightning hopkins
- three wise men wise men three - jim neighbors
- fidelity fiduciary bank - cast of mary poppins
- march of the kings - robert merrill
- sanctus: to be a european christian - dj pebkac
- ring those christmas bells - fred waring & the pennsylvanians
- christmas morning blues - sonny boy williamson
- the gun and the bible - negativland
- the christmas song - jimmy mcgriff
- b.i.b.l.e. - genius/gza
- the advertising song - pearl boys
- cintec de managers of money - dj pebkac
- it’s a marshmallow world - oscar peterson
- step right up - tom waits
- cigars i have to smoke - da whole thing
- no xmas for jon quays - the fall
- the animals were gone - damien rice
- all i want for christmas is you - carla thomas
- holly jolly christmas - kise
- christmas with fat aunt bette - andrea perry
- auld lang syne - the cucumbers
- the secret of christmas - shirley horn
20111205
A Spy on the Street Where You Live, pt. 3
But what can I say . . . to make it clear? How can I say that to her, when the groveling started sixteen years ago—or thirty two, if my stars really do point at her—was ineffective then, and has, it would seem, continued, to resurface now? How can I say that, which every brokenhearted singer has ever sung, that every adult has recognized for the screen-kiss kitsch it is, as a vehicle for commercial culture and greater need, to this stranger whose company I crave with a thirst I’d say anything to slake? Never trust a junkie or a crooner: My mama done told me, they’ll both do anything for another hit.
And, how, after all, if she won’t return my calls, who gave up writing weeks ago, who won’t be getting in touch, nor speak to me at all? If the sun refused to shine, perhaps she would return my calls; or if the moon plunged into the sea, perhaps she would call me. Of course, if that happened, phone service would likely be adversely impacted, not to mention low-lying coastal areas, and we, refugees, going nowhere.
And, how, after all, if she won’t return my calls, who gave up writing weeks ago, who won’t be getting in touch, nor speak to me at all? If the sun refused to shine, perhaps she would return my calls; or if the moon plunged into the sea, perhaps she would call me. Of course, if that happened, phone service would likely be adversely impacted, not to mention low-lying coastal areas, and we, refugees, going nowhere.
If it were but a matter of faith,Barring the fools’ unforgivable sin of rushing in and talking out loud; even choosing not to tell her about it, how can I even think I crave such things, and continue to think of myself as a person? No: Must struggle, must ramble on; must . . . resist . . . compulsive . . . romantic . . . hyperbole.
if it were measured in petitions and prayer . . .
but it is not, nor do I care.
20111204
A Spy on the Street Where You Live, pt. 2
And there’s Lerner and Lowe’s Fair Lady, herself also a figment from Ovid as Pygmalion’s Galatea, but, back then, she didn’t have a street, just the pedestal.
The audience of the modern musical, for dramatic development, had to be shown that Eliza Doolittle was not only sophisticated in ladylike civilized artifice, but also filled with the feminine graces known to prompt poets’ odes and lovers’ praises, through the introduction of a rival suitor to the Professor’s as yet unspoken devotion.
Rival suitor sues to see her, and succeeding, has found a reason to sing of enchantment pouring out of every door, has cause for singin’ in the rain, and dancing in the street.
Excised from the arc of plot, this recorded and rerecorded song is simply everyman’s love song. Again, the lyric is not about the beloved, whose presence merely imbues the setting, but a report on the state of mind and heart of, or simply part and parcel of the art of, the singer. As always, at first, I’ve just seen a face and can’t forget the time or place of that first sight. Then, with or without overtures or encouragement, merely because I want to hold your hand and can’t stop my brain, or maybe because I’ve been watching . . . every breath you take, the residence of the beloved is discovered. Then the wooing, the suiting starts, or the stalking—the difference lies in her consent—with the overpowering feeling that any second you may suddenly appear.
The audience of the modern musical, for dramatic development, had to be shown that Eliza Doolittle was not only sophisticated in ladylike civilized artifice, but also filled with the feminine graces known to prompt poets’ odes and lovers’ praises, through the introduction of a rival suitor to the Professor’s as yet unspoken devotion.
Rival suitor sues to see her, and succeeding, has found a reason to sing of enchantment pouring out of every door, has cause for singin’ in the rain, and dancing in the street.
People stop and stare; they don’t bother me,This is before the rain, of course. Properly validated, Liza falls for the Prof.
For there’s no where else on Earth that I would rather be.
Let the time go by, I won’t care if I can be here on the street where you live!
Excised from the arc of plot, this recorded and rerecorded song is simply everyman’s love song. Again, the lyric is not about the beloved, whose presence merely imbues the setting, but a report on the state of mind and heart of, or simply part and parcel of the art of, the singer. As always, at first, I’ve just seen a face and can’t forget the time or place of that first sight. Then, with or without overtures or encouragement, merely because I want to hold your hand and can’t stop my brain, or maybe because I’ve been watching . . . every breath you take, the residence of the beloved is discovered. Then the wooing, the suiting starts, or the stalking—the difference lies in her consent—with the overpowering feeling that any second you may suddenly appear.
20111203
A Spy on the Street Where You Live, pt.1
It is only a woman that can make a man become the parody of himself.
--French Proverb, the Rev. T.F. Thistleton-Dyer
. . . I cannot step out of my home without asking myself whether I’m only going out in the hope of seeing her, here on the street, and knowing that if I do or do not see her, I’ll be looking for her anyway, and judging and chiding myself for it. Let me tell you a little about what I know of me and this fervent furtive infatuation.
Conditioned by love songs to be the perfect American romantic id, in addition to being the paranoid monomaniac ego of me, I am attuned to poignant phrases pertaining to the street where she lives, or some synonymous heterologue, distinct as a singular wandering star in the collective romantic meme-pool of popular music, an ersatz zodiac of coupling if not graveyard of the language and dreams of modernity.
This has been powerful imagery for me since before she moved onto my street.
There ought to be a lot of love songs dealing with this theme, but I can only think of two, and another scenario, to which I add this, my words and tone, my own inept tune.
Yonder window, wherever it is, irresistibly attracts the romantic speaker’s attention, displacing the governor of the dome of the sky, the prime indicator of direction and time throughout human history. That window becomes the East, and Juliet is the sun. Wither she goest, so the speaker’s heliotropic heart and attention, perpetually dawning.
Conditioned by love songs to be the perfect American romantic id, in addition to being the paranoid monomaniac ego of me, I am attuned to poignant phrases pertaining to the street where she lives, or some synonymous heterologue, distinct as a singular wandering star in the collective romantic meme-pool of popular music, an ersatz zodiac of coupling if not graveyard of the language and dreams of modernity.
This has been powerful imagery for me since before she moved onto my street.
There ought to be a lot of love songs dealing with this theme, but I can only think of two, and another scenario, to which I add this, my words and tone, my own inept tune.
But soft! What light in yonder window breaks? It is the East!Not even a love song, but some higher-art embodiment, in perhaps its most perfected form, this is certainly the archetype, the articulation of romantic love that has most imbued the cultural discourse; has so imbued this discourse, that Romeus and Juliet are commonly invoked as exemplary lovers, despite their tragic non-consummation. As if they’d got hitched, bought land, and made it fruitful across the long gloss of their bliss.
Yonder window, wherever it is, irresistibly attracts the romantic speaker’s attention, displacing the governor of the dome of the sky, the prime indicator of direction and time throughout human history. That window becomes the East, and Juliet is the sun. Wither she goest, so the speaker’s heliotropic heart and attention, perpetually dawning.
20111202
gimme music
i just found this written in what appears to be my own handwriting while looking for a blank page in a legal pad within reach of my desk that turned out to contain no blank pages. judging from the surrounding content (also in what appears to be my own handwriting), it must date from 2003, or so. anyway, i think it's okay, and can't see what more some prior oomph may have intended to do with it before filing it away as more-or-less complete.
so here it is:
so here it is:
gimme a little musichmm. maybe that prior oomph intended musical accompaniment. also, it kind of reminds me of this old carnal music (which likewise lacks musical accompaniment).
man, i could really use it
gimme a handful of beats, man
that's just what i need, can
you gimme a foundation of sound
something to wrap my rhythm around
gimme a few tunes
c'mon and give 'em to me soon
gimme a blues i can use
to diffuse my own blues
and gimme harmonizing voices
celebrating harmonic choices
i just got in an' i gotta get along
quick baby go steal me a song
20110713
litigation mentality blues
THINGS AS THEY ARE: LITIGATION MENTALITY BLUES AND THE CULTIVATION OF MINDFUL RESOLUTION IN A CULTURE OF CONFLICT *
OVERTURE:
Lawyers, popularly conceived as gunslingers in the wild west of the justice system, inhabit a precarious position: Required to conform to a strict code of ethics while zealously advocating their clients’ goals within the bounds of the law, they are celebrated and rewarded particularly for victory in the ritualized battle of the courtroom. Yet there is evidence of elevated stress and distress among individual advocates, and across the profession.[2] The victory-oriented warrior role is hard to shed, yet, under the burden of increasing caseloads, courts are encouraging dispute resolution before trial through negotiation, mediation and arbitration.
In this time of crisis for lawyers and their profession,[3] two currents are working against the depressing and litigious tide—increasing use of alternative dispute resolution[4] and nascent recourse to mindfulness meditation[5] by lawyers in firms and law schools—both promising greater clarity and resolution within the profession, among people who have chosen this vocation, and among disputants who appeal to the law.
On March 8, 2002, University of Missouri – Columbia School of Law Professor Leonard Riskin presented his recent article on “The Contemplative Lawyer”[6] at a Harvard Law School symposium[7] featuring an introduction to mindfulness exercises and discussion of the promise of meditation in the legal profession. This essay will review Riskin’s thesis and briefly explore concerns with meditative practice in the legal profession highlighted by his co-panelists at the symposium.
COMPETITION AND CHAOS: A CANON IN TWO VOICES
My father, a former litigator, used to tell a joke:
Yet similar themes run in both men’s words, highlighting two key aspects of the state of the profession and its constituent individual humans.
The first is the stereotypical lawyer’s drive to win “at any cost,” illustrated in the joke: The lawyer accepts his adversaries’ precedent—the authority of the Bible—for the sake of argument, yet rejects its authority in asserting not God but lawyers created chaos.
The second aspect is chaos. It is not because he blasphemes that the lawyer “wins” (although this may raise the question of the lawyer’s relation to God), but because the implicit assertion as to the source of primordial chaos is irrefutable to the pious contenders, who led with their trump, as it were, and moreover are not situated to appreciate the relation between law and chaos. And there is chaos which lawyers are uniquely situated to appreciate: Studies show law students and lawyers subject to stress at higher rates than other professionals or the balance of the population, exhibiting elevated incidence of depression, suicide, and substance abuse.[11]
Levine suspected a “fundamental flaw” in the judicial system. But on reflection “the foundational principles of the adversary system . . . came up sound.”
Levine concluded so many lawyers “are unhappy . . . because we . . . have not used the tools for which we’ve always been respected: understanding cause and effect, and bringing wisdom to the facilitation of societal action.”[15] In this view, he is among a rising chorus of voices calling for a broader approach to justice than the adversarial model alone, advocating a deeper understanding of the concerns and goals of parties to, and the mechanisms of, conflict. These voices are particularly strong in the field of “alternative” dispute resolution.[16]
“We have conflict because of how deals are set up at the front end,”[17] Levine notes, “they only become cases when disputes go unresolved.” By this rationale litigation would be the “alternative” to the norm of negotiation and collaboration.[18]
* * *
They said, "You have a blue guitar,
You do not play things as they are."
The man replied, "Things as they are
Are changed upon the blue guitar."
And they said to him, "But play, you must,
A tune beyond us, yet ourselves,
A tune upon the blue guitar,
Of things exactly as they are."[fn.1]
* * *
OVERTURE:
Lawyers, popularly conceived as gunslingers in the wild west of the justice system, inhabit a precarious position: Required to conform to a strict code of ethics while zealously advocating their clients’ goals within the bounds of the law, they are celebrated and rewarded particularly for victory in the ritualized battle of the courtroom. Yet there is evidence of elevated stress and distress among individual advocates, and across the profession.[2] The victory-oriented warrior role is hard to shed, yet, under the burden of increasing caseloads, courts are encouraging dispute resolution before trial through negotiation, mediation and arbitration.
In this time of crisis for lawyers and their profession,[3] two currents are working against the depressing and litigious tide—increasing use of alternative dispute resolution[4] and nascent recourse to mindfulness meditation[5] by lawyers in firms and law schools—both promising greater clarity and resolution within the profession, among people who have chosen this vocation, and among disputants who appeal to the law.
On March 8, 2002, University of Missouri – Columbia School of Law Professor Leonard Riskin presented his recent article on “The Contemplative Lawyer”[6] at a Harvard Law School symposium[7] featuring an introduction to mindfulness exercises and discussion of the promise of meditation in the legal profession. This essay will review Riskin’s thesis and briefly explore concerns with meditative practice in the legal profession highlighted by his co-panelists at the symposium.
COMPETITION AND CHAOS: A CANON IN TWO VOICES
My father, a former litigator, used to tell a joke:
A Doctor, an Engineer and a Lawyer, sipping bourbon and branch, argued over the historical primacy of their professions. The Doctor opined that medicine was the oldest, citing the surgical extraction of Adam’s rib and creation of Eve as told in Genesis. The Engineer replied, “Yet, one chapter earlier it describes the primordial act of creation as one of engineering: God formed the heavens and the earth from chaos—”Stewart Levine, also a former litigator, is not joking when he attributes “the high degree of unhappiness, substance abuse, suicide and the steady stream of people leaving” legal practice to a “businesslike and bottom-line oriented” legal culture as a result of which “[b]oth lawyers and clients see winning at any cost as the goal.”[9] Meanwhile, he notes “lawyer jokes and disdain”[10] prevalent in public attitudes toward lawyers.
“Aha!” broke in the lawyer, triumphantly, “but who created chaos?”[8]
Yet similar themes run in both men’s words, highlighting two key aspects of the state of the profession and its constituent individual humans.
The first is the stereotypical lawyer’s drive to win “at any cost,” illustrated in the joke: The lawyer accepts his adversaries’ precedent—the authority of the Bible—for the sake of argument, yet rejects its authority in asserting not God but lawyers created chaos.
The second aspect is chaos. It is not because he blasphemes that the lawyer “wins” (although this may raise the question of the lawyer’s relation to God), but because the implicit assertion as to the source of primordial chaos is irrefutable to the pious contenders, who led with their trump, as it were, and moreover are not situated to appreciate the relation between law and chaos. And there is chaos which lawyers are uniquely situated to appreciate: Studies show law students and lawyers subject to stress at higher rates than other professionals or the balance of the population, exhibiting elevated incidence of depression, suicide, and substance abuse.[11]
Levine suspected a “fundamental flaw” in the judicial system. But on reflection “the foundational principles of the adversary system . . . came up sound.”
Lawyers . . . advocating their position and allowing themselves to be educated by looking at the situation as advocated from a different perspective. The judge or jury making decisions. The concept of reliance on precedent.[12]The foundations are sound, and lawyers continue to “serve the people”[13] through zealous advocacy of their clients’ interests, but nevertheless, legal dispute is widely conceived as “a battle played out in an arena, a clash of modern day gladiators in which wealth buys access, might makes right, and victory is measured by the magnitude of the recovery rather than the realization of the truth.”[14]
Levine concluded so many lawyers “are unhappy . . . because we . . . have not used the tools for which we’ve always been respected: understanding cause and effect, and bringing wisdom to the facilitation of societal action.”[15] In this view, he is among a rising chorus of voices calling for a broader approach to justice than the adversarial model alone, advocating a deeper understanding of the concerns and goals of parties to, and the mechanisms of, conflict. These voices are particularly strong in the field of “alternative” dispute resolution.[16]
“We have conflict because of how deals are set up at the front end,”[17] Levine notes, “they only become cases when disputes go unresolved.” By this rationale litigation would be the “alternative” to the norm of negotiation and collaboration.[18]
20110421
20110407
overheard in girl talk hell
"I have thought of a wholly untapped source of hilarity: nursing homes!"
you heard it here.
in related works, i offer only the following, not particularly hilarious, reflections on an elderly couple i once knew, who were patrons of such an institution for a time:
it is final enough. to die by your own hand a mere month—is it?
or years: since she lost her mind—after the beloved passed,
suffering done at last in the crying white tennis-shoed
persistent living if you can call it that facility. final.
you heard it here.
in related works, i offer only the following, not particularly hilarious, reflections on an elderly couple i once knew, who were patrons of such an institution for a time:
it is final enough. to die by your own hand a mere month—is it?
or years: since she lost her mind—after the beloved passed,
suffering done at last in the crying white tennis-shoed
persistent living if you can call it that facility. final.
20110403
the cargo
Each time the words come.
Each time they come, carrying insight, inspiration, revelation,
they come to transmute the toxic linguistic particle.
Each time, this precious provocative cargo,
the article and the words, are lost
in the act of flattening them to the page.
Each time they come, carrying insight, inspiration, revelation,
they come to transmute the toxic linguistic particle.
Each time, this precious provocative cargo,
the article and the words, are lost
in the act of flattening them to the page.
20041106
20041026
20030714
Pedigree Ditty
Pedigree Ditty, assertin’ nothin’ but a species of evolutionary theory.
the Blues ain’t nothin’ but a good man worshipin’ Satan;
the Blues ain’t nothin’ but a good man worshipin’ Satan;
for a Blues man there ain’t nothin’ you can do to save him.
Rock ‘n’ Roll ain’t nothin’ but good men and women worshipin’ Satan;
all Rock ‘n’ Roll ain’t nothin’ but good men and women worshipin’ Satan;
but that backbeat gets you movin’, makin’ it damn near impossible to hate them.
the Blues ain’t nothin’ but a good man worshipin’ Satan;
the Blues ain’t nothin’ but a good man worshipin’ Satan;
for a Blues man there ain’t nothin’ you can do to save him.
Rock ‘n’ Roll ain’t nothin’ but good men and women worshipin’ Satan;
all Rock ‘n’ Roll ain’t nothin’ but good men and women worshipin’ Satan;
but that backbeat gets you movin’, makin’ it damn near impossible to hate them.
20010506
when my baby left
when my baby left me she took her tv
and now i am free from anxiety
don't know if it's the tv or she
whose absence leaves me feelin' so carefree
before my baby left, she drank all the whiskey
then berated me semi-coherently, and i
muted the tv and held her hair as she
booted and booted and got her some water to drink
i remember the ads in her eyes the great deals and good buys
as we sat side by side on the couch in the warm glow
each program that aired, the hours we shared sitting there
in the glare, i still cherish every one, you know
but she had to go
and now i am free from anxiety
don't know if it's the tv or she
whose absence leaves me feelin' so carefree
before my baby left, she drank all the whiskey
then berated me semi-coherently, and i
muted the tv and held her hair as she
booted and booted and got her some water to drink
i remember the ads in her eyes the great deals and good buys
as we sat side by side on the couch in the warm glow
each program that aired, the hours we shared sitting there
in the glare, i still cherish every one, you know
but she had to go
20010210
new shoes
simplistically, when i went unridiculed:
i was actually hoping you’d hate my new shoes
and realize i can’t even pick my size
much less match my slacks and ties
and socks with — was it shirts or eyes? -
you’d long to equip my reluctant smile,
your flair, your sense of pride and style
would magically efface all trace of bile
and reopening your heart you’d banish the blues.
i was actually hoping you’d hate my new shoes
and realize i can’t even pick my size
much less match my slacks and ties
and socks with — was it shirts or eyes? -
you’d long to equip my reluctant smile,
your flair, your sense of pride and style
would magically efface all trace of bile
and reopening your heart you’d banish the blues.
20001031
grieving blues
how can i write to my love
who knows my words for lies
whose wariness will scrutinize every curve and line
impute to each strategic stroke my dishonest design?
make love to me my music my muse
console me through my continuing blues
19971028
19971026
19971024
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