Wednesday Morning Music Works

I have been doing other things. Different things. So I haven’t visited the LoL much in recent days…

Okay then, Clicky, over a week.

And I confess my lack of shambling was playing on my mind when I jumped into Thoughtful Man’s van for the journey to work this morning. This is the route we normally take…

We like to go via the seafront because it’s a much pleasanter drive than negotiating the traffic and barmy light system through the centre of town. The accompanying music was selected randomly by Thoughful Man, from a CD he’d made himself for the previous weekend’s shifts.

“Thank fuck!” I thought, as he started pressing buttons. Local radio is utterly banal, full of unreasonably chirpy presenters, repetitive traffic updates and government sponsored ads intent on telling us how we should live.

Point A – Song No.1: Rock DJ by Robbie Williams

Shambles

1. (Informal) a state of total disorder. “my career was in a shambles“

2. a butcher’s slaughterhouse (archaic except in place names): “the shambles where the animals were slaughtered”

3. A shamble (also called a shambles) is a handmade device used by witches to detect or amplify magic. It can even be used for protection or to send a spell.

Discworld, Clicky, yes and its inhabitants riding it. I hadn’t talked to him about those thoughts at all – how did he know?

“I’ll post a shambles tonight.” I decided, as I bobbed my head in time to the music. But where? Here, at the LoL, or on Sync Miss For Him?

Point B – Song No.2: The Look of Love by ABC

Look of Love… Library of Libraries… LOL. I had my answer 😉 Not only that, but Hugo brought up Lexicon on the latest Merovee post, just a few hours earlier…

Lexi tells her parents she’s wise to the con and the ABC album housing the song. The journey had been smooth and I enjoyed singing along. That’s probably why Thoughtful Man decided the dial should be spun.

Point C – Song No.3: You Spin Me Round by Dead or Alive

Cross, Clicky? Not at Thoughtful Man; he has an aversion to listening to a song all the way through. I don’t think it’s just my singing 😉 But lots of things do make me cross these days.

Which brings us to…

Point D – Song No.4 – Something About You by Level 42

You betcha, Clicky! We were still Kinging it as we pulled up outside Point E 😀

Heigh Ho Clicky! Have a Song…

Shambles: A Pointless Exercise?

Hugo emphasizes ‘Blackbushe’ in posting the story of the Bin Laden plane crashing into a car auction yesterday.

Ironically, for the man seen as behind the 911 Twin Tower attack, a lot of his family seem to have been killed in plane crashes.

Osama bin Laden’s stepmother, half-sister and brother-in-law died after a private jet owned by the family exploded into a fireball after overshooting a runway while trying to land outside London.

Stepmother, half-sister, brother-in-law join his father and brother…

Bin Laden’s father Mohammed originally registered the tail number of the aircraft involved in yesterday’s crash in the 1960s.

He was flying the aircraft with the number HZ-IBN, when he died in another crash in 1967, however his family retained the registration.

The aircraft was registered to Salem Aviation – which was named after the dead terrorist’s eldest brother, who himself died in a crash in 1988 when he ploughed into powerlines in San Antonio, Texas.

On the same day, it was reported that Saudi Arabia was making an appeal to be dropped from pending and future 911 lawsuits.

*Ground Zero was a bit of a scar, wasn’t it Clicky? And it was only yesterday that Thoughtful Man was showing me images of sCARification he’d just seen on Facebook page…*

*That’s right, Clicky! Scar is Simba’s evil uncle in ‘The Lion King‘… based on ‘Hamlet’, voiced by Jeremy Irons…*

*Of course, I spent quite a bit of time discussing the similarities between ‘Memento’ and ‘The Matrix’ with Hugo last year, Clicky…*

*Main does sound like Mane, Clicky, and Leo was the main character in ‘Memento’…*

But what of ‘Blackbushe‘ I hear you ask: Hugo specifically emphasized ‘Blackbushe’ in his comment. Well, that’s where ‘Pointless’ comes into the equation and yesterday’s episode featured an obvious black bush… can you see where it is yet? 😉

‘Pointless’ is the only TV show Thoughtful Man and I regularly watch. Obscure answers are best but a pointless one is the holy grail. Because he works on a Friday night, we watch the show in the wee small hours of Saturday morning, feasting on Maccy Ds whilst the children sleep soundly…

So before I’d read Hugo’s comment or even knew about the plane crash (Thoughtful Man told me about it when he got in, in the midst of the grease/brown paper prison-break from his bag laden arms), I watched Pointless, with a warm, oleaginous chin, and wondering about the bushy, blackness of contestant Ian’s facial hair…

I love the fact that ‘sidekick’ Richard Osman (a 6’7″ giant) has a laptop for a prop. He addresses the audience and particularly the fourth wall… he is the audience’s confident…

There was banter about the black, bushy beard… Apols, moustache…

I’m just going to focus on Ian in this shamble, though goodness knows the whole show is a syncfest 😉 The first round was ‘Beverages: Types of tea, coffees and herbal infusions from around the world’… this was the board, filled with my answers, shouted out between delicious beefy mouthfuls…

Ian was up first…

Flat… White..?

Luckily he survived to Round two or this shamble would end here, but partner Louise completely fucked up her answer to ‘Name a chemical element beginning with the the letters A through to M…’

Before poor Ian had a chance to answer, they were already eliminated from the show…

Europium is a chemical element with symbol Eu and atomic number 63. It was discovered in 1901 and is named after the continent of Europe.

*Clicky, is it me or can you see a 911 in the year Eu was discovered?*

*Enough, Clicky. Let’s end this pointless shambles on a Song…*

The Rhino in the Library

*Really Clicky, did you have to use that photo? It’s not exactly hanging straight…*

Following the death (and global outrage at the manner of said death) of Cecil the Lion I’ve been listen to some talks by Wes Cecil on philosophers. Merovee’s Viktor put me on to him.

Before delving straight in, I sought a review.

Wes Cecil is another favorite of mine when it comes to introductory philosophy courses. Cecil is a philosophy professor at Peninsula college and focuses on the biography and work of a different philosopher with each lecture. What I especially like about him is the fact that he treats major philosophers from many camps: analytic philosophy (Ludwig Wittgenstein and Bertrand Russell), pragmatism (William James), continental philosophy (Jacques Derrida, Karl Marx, and Friedrich Nietzsche), existentialism (Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beuvoir), and even christian mysticism (Simone Weil). Cecil has a wonderful sense of humor and gives even the most seasoned theorist a new way of explaining the significance of these major philosophers to just about anyone. I thought of including Cecil’s lectures here because of how many times I have quoted his Jacques Derrida lecture in attempting to explain Derrida’s significance to linguistic philosophers. Trust me, these a great.

Buoyed up by that, I decided to start with Nietzsche as I was a little familiar with him.

*Thanks Clicky! Have you got the link to the talk? The review is not wrong…*

After a slight diversion, and having the day off today, I decided to hear all about Bertrand Russell…

… Who I had not looked at before, and his protégé, Ludwig Wittgenstein…

… Who I was slightly familiar with through fiction…

*I know Clicky… /sigh… Still libraries do carry tomes and someone, some day might want to check it out…*

*Good point, Clicky! When push comes to shove I’ll be able to check it out again for myself in the future… Got a song to round it off, Click?*

When the Music’s Over? Good Vibrations…

Musical discussion at Frank’s place today…

*I know, Clicky! Do you reckon Jezza Clarkson got a vibe with the selection of that image? I’d posted my hand-made version in both the Red and Blue Universes… Shit! have you clocked the times on each of those posts? 17/07/15 at 1.37pm and July 23rd 2015 at 7.31pm… Mirror Franks, MIrror 137 timings. Cllcky… /fingers tremble… I had no fucking idea I’d done that…*

*I didn’t say you did… /squint…*

Prog’s post and GaryK30’s reply prompted me to look up Beethoven because he was deaf…

A large collection of Beethoven’s hearing aids, such as a special ear horn, can be viewed at the Beethoven House Museum in Bonn, Germany. Despite his obvious distress, Czerny remarked that Beethoven could still hear speech and music normally until 1812.^[50] Around 1814 however, by the age of 44, Beethoven was almost totally deaf, and when a group of visitors saw him play a loud arpeggio of thundering bass notes at his piano remarking, “Ist es nicht schön?” (Is it not beautiful?), they felt deep sympathy considering his courage and sense of humor (he lost the ability to hear higher frequencies first).^[51]

As a result of Beethoven’s hearing loss, his conversation books are an unusually rich written resource. Used primarily in the last ten or so years of his life, his friends wrote in these books so that he could know what they were saying, and he then responded either orally or in the book. The books contain discussions about music and other matters, and give insights into Beethoven’s thinking; they are a source for investigations into how he intended his music should be performed, and also his perception of his relationship to art. Out of a total of 400 conversation books, it has been suggested that 264 were destroyed (and others were altered) after Beethoven’s death by Anton Schindler, who wished only an idealised biography of the composer to survive.^[52] However, Theodore Albrecht contests the verity of Schindler’s destruction of a large number of conversation books.^[53]

*Just like the comment threads we frequent to converse in, eh, Clicky? It’s literally like I can hear their voices…* 😉

There is a film, called ‘Good Vibrations‘. It is about the power of music. Shiny recommended I watch it and I’m so glad because I witnessed a man have an epiphany, well several…

*Oh bugger! Is that the time. Thanks Clicky… early start in London tomorrow. Damn! I was just getting into my stride… I’ll pick it up tomorrow…*

An Anti-Anti Anthem: Corrupting Lyrics

I thought I’d have a go at creating an Anti-Anti Anthem by corrupting some song lyrics…

*Aww… that’s cute Clicky. Yes it was at Leggy and Broken Girl’s gaff that I’d seen it done before *

Now this may come as shock to some people but I am a smoker…

…And I’m getting a tinsey bit fed up with antics of the capnophobes in public life trying to control my life with their incessant demands, backed by lies and wishful thinking. I wondered if other smokers were feeling the same way. What’s needed is a song…

This is a first attempt at corruption… constructive criticism in the comments is always welcome 😉

An Archivistic Vision: Welcome to the Programme

Earlier this week, coinciding neatly with a just-in-time delivery of memories into the LoL – a faux-leather case, bulging at the seams with promising content, Mrs Reign opened Parliament and recited the new government’s proposed legislative programme for the coming year.

“Have you seen this?” Thoughtful Man said, passing the case over for inspection. It was surprisingly heavy, requiring both hands to guide it to the floor and prevent flattened toes. “That should keep you occupied for a bit”. He was right. A glance at the protruding spines produced a squeal …

*squint*

… and the urge to break out plastic opera glasses. “Programmes! These are all our programmes”. I grabbed a handful and got comfortable …

“Shows, concerts, places of interest.” I looked up beaming, “All the places we went together. I’d forgotten all about these”.

“Of course.” Thoughtful Man managed to keep the ‘harumph’ out of his voice but not off his face. “I keep everything.” He’s not called ‘Thoughtful Man’ for nothing. “I don’t think that’s all of them, but it’s enough to get you started. Why don’t you take some photos and then pick one to focus on.” He handed me a camera and retired to a safe distance.

programmes 2

Where to start? There was a lot to choose from but fortuitously a prompt arrived from A Void at Merovee … Erasure … not the sort proposed by the new government and read out by Mrs Reign … but the campy band and their ‘Phantasmagorical‘ concert that I had to go see twice at the Hammersmith Odeon in 1992.

I’d bought the concert tickets for Thoughtful Man, as his gift the first Christmas after we were married. But as luck would have it, he was travelling that night so I ended up taking Sister Juju. Afterward, as we left the theatre, the sweat rapidly cooling on our hot and tired bodies, we hoarsely agreed “OMG! He has to see it!”

The next day I set about trying to find more tickets, no mean feat considering this was pre-internet days …

Not quite that desolate, Clicky, but I can see why you might think that.

It was the giant, Pip, from work at Big Shop, who unexpectedly came to my rescue …

These tickets were even better than the first, right at the front, but even better than that, we got to have the phantasmagorical experience together …

Jealous much, Clicky?

“Have you finished that yet?” Thoughtful Man reappeared, looking anxious; he knows what a terrible shot I am. He spotted the shiny programme. “Erasure! Bloody brilliant!.” He turned away, leafing through the pages. “I’ll tell you what, have a song.”

Have Sock, Will Travel

Little Sock is small and white. Okay, the sole is grayish – it had been worn by Little Boys – but that’s beside the point. Little Sock is my travelling companion and this is the story of how that came to pass. Dear Reader, it’s actually quite embarrassing…

*Nice job starting that in the right place, Clicky… /pats snouth… You can carry on helping me tell the story…*

It happened a few years ago, one cold, dark winter’s morning…

Laden with old laptop (i.e. heavy) and handbag overstuffed with paperwork, I pulled my big-arse coat close around me…

…and set off up to The Big Smoke for an early morning meeting with senior managers. On the way I did as other commuters do…

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…and so didn’t notice the stowaway sock on my shoulder…

*I do not look like that, Clicky! …/thinks… Okay, maybe during the train portion of the journey…*

From Here to There, Little Sock had a grand view of the journey: train, tube and trot through windswept tunnels and frozen roads. To anyone I passed, it must have looked like I’d taken a direct hit from a great height…

The first time I noticed the stowaway was when I shook my coat off at the other end. Little Sock floated to the floor… In front of the bods I was meeting!

Apparently, Thoughtful Man had everso thoughtfully used my coat, innocently hanging over the banister the night before, as a suitable place to dry Little Sock. The poor thing, having lost its sibling, was still damp after coming out of the washing machine…

*Rude…*

That would have just been an embarrassing story; however, it only happened again less than a week later!

nwy

*Way, Clicky!*

Little Sock, it appears, had got a taste for travelling. Not wanting to give the impression that I’m Big Bird’s toilet again…

…I decided to give Little Sock pride of place in my handbag. That way it could travel with me everywhere…

Stowaway Little Sock at home

*I’m just thankful it was Little Sock and not Little Boots, Clicky…*

Dear Reader… Have a Song 😉

It started with a kick

We got off on the wrong foot, Pepsi and I. She was startled and I was oblivious … it was not an auspicious start …

*Indeed Clicky. How was I to know my attempt to say ‘hello’ would result in her death?*

*Aww … thank you ❤ *

Pepsi was Mother’s cat and they adored each other. She would lie on Mother’s lap as they watched the telly; the rising hill just meant Pepsi had a better view of …

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In the spring of 1967 she was a contented cat. That was until the day the earth moved …

*Ah yeah… No, Pepsi didn’t see it that way …*

*Quite!*

And it got worse for her as the kicking, ninja belly grew … less and less attention was spent in her direction as more and more was lavished on it. She withdrew to the top of the wardrobe and kept a careful watch on proceedings with her glowing green eyes …

When it was nearly time for me to arrive, Father brought home my cot. Mindful of what Pepsi was capable of, he made some provision …

Unfortunately, this was seen as a …

… and boy did she rise to it. The next day dad woke to find the netting ripped to shreds and the cat fast asleep where the baby would lay. He made the decision then, Pepsi would have to go …

*Unfortunately yes, Clicky. He didn’t have time to find a new home for her because I, too, had made a decision … to arrive …*

Pepsi died on the day I was born. Father took her to the vet and the deed was done. I didn’t get the chance to meet her … until later that is …

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As a small child, I would play in my parents’ bedroom, happily babbling away, the way small children do. Mother asked me, “Who are you talking to?”

“The cat.” pointing upward at the empty space on top of the wardrobe. I’m fairly certain we managed to straighten out the misunderstanding between us then, Pepsi and me.

*Thank you for listening, Clicky … have a Song …*