17.10.04
Fritzi Ritz
Ernie Bushmiller
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"Futuristic planes ascending"
"Elegant woman washed ashore"
16.10.04
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"You simply cannot wear it out!"
Posters Sale on Wednesday 21st November 2001
Onslows
from a Kenneth Shoesmith search
brought on by a tip from Life in The Present
15.10.04
Medicine Woman, clay pipe and twist tobacco,
calls each blizzard by name and predicts
five o'clock by spitting at her television.
Children lean into her breath to beg a story:
James Welch
Poetry Daily
14.Oct.04
A Thought, for Example, Is a Form
I was hoping for a betterYou know: who you are.
It doesn't get any more complicated than this,
and yet it does. Not simply daybreak, wake up,
rise and shine, but worse, as in can you throw some light
on the question—you—curled there on the bed?
The point being that you can't see it. The point.
Of light. Where it enters. The top of your head:
Mary Ann Samyn
Verse Daily
15.Oct.04
12.10.04
Landscapes Painted for Yuwengtodetail
Fan Qi
Loyalists and Individualists
Qing Dynasty
Timeline of Art History
The Metropolitan Museum of Art NYC
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The Palace of Nine Perfections (detail)
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The Kangxi Emperor's Southern Tour, Scroll Three: Ji'nan to Mount Tai
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Portrait of the Imperial Bodyguard Zhanyinbao (detail)
8.10.04
7.10.04
Clickety clack ... clickety clackVolunteered Slavery
Bring that man's baby back.
Clickety clack ... clickety clack
I want my spirit back.
Clickety clack
Bubble music being seen and heard on Saturday night
Blinding the eyes of ones that's supposed to see.
Bubble music, being played and showed, throughout America.
Clickety clack ... clickety clack
Somebody's mind has got off the goddamn track.
Clickety clack ... clickety clack
Won't somebody bring the Spirit back?
You didn't know about John Coltrane.
And the beautiful ballad he wrote wait a minute,
And the beautiful ballad he wrote called "After the Rain".
You didn't know about Lady Day and all the dues that she had to pay.
The Beatles come into the country, they take all the bread,
while the police hittin' black and white folks upside their head.
Tom Jones and Humpading got everybody uptight.
They make people that can sing wanna get out and fight.
Clickety clack ... clickety clack
What is this madness that Nixon has put upon us?
Clickety clack ... clickety clack
Won't somebody bring the Spirit back?
Who will it be?
Who will it be?
It certainly won't be someone that says that they're free.
Clickety clack ... clickety clack
Won't somebody bring the Spirit back?
Clickety clack ... clickety clack ...
Rahsaan Roland Kirk
Pheasant VillagetodetailThis Town, That TownKawakami Shiro
Kodomo no kuni
artists and children's books in 1920's Japan
children's songs
This Town, That Town
Boats of Leaves
mp3:
Taanki, Poonki
Einstein Tower, Potsdam, Feb. 2001
Stefan Rahmstorf
6.10.04
"After hearing the war reported like sports commentary between gardenias and kittens on the radio, Boynton retreated to an empty large park in an unfashionable suburb, where the unfashionable pines are getting removed by the reconstructed creek, and the vistas are getting landscaped – and on opposing open hills these are quite beautiful. Bare. And barely anyone there. It was partly nostalgia for the kind of remnant bush and exotic dotted ex-orchard country of her outer-suburban childhood, with the strong, wet smell of pine needles, and the brick villas always on the fringes of the frame. Nostalgia because neither landmarks nor family are to be found out there anymore, sentimental because yesterday boynton saw a low cream brick fence of the fifties and lamented a lost world."
Boynton, I never knew...
Updated to reflect accurate spelling(s)In every attempt at defining these online journals that I've read, for all the "blogs" and "blogospheres" and "bloggers", there's never been anything but the most cursory recognition of work like Mark Woods'. And yet for a lot of us his daily spread is essential, and a constant welcome challenge.
Journalists tend to be the ones doing the analysis, and they tend to see the journalistic aspect and the parallels and correspondences to print journalism; but ::: wood s lot ::: isn't journalism, and it isn't a diary.
Sort of sui generis sort of rara avis and always for me a source of interesting failure, because I can never get to all the links and there's almost always something intellectually beyond my ready comprehension.
It's a presentation of work. His archives could re-seed the mental life of the world.
Four years at hard labor and we're all better for it.
Thank you Mark Woods.
Eugene Kuo has some photos up of a trip he took to Turkey, of which this is one.
3.10.04
mp3:
Fania Tei
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Fania at Calabash Music
1.10.04
The public domain is not a waste basket, it's not a gutter or a vacant lot or a graveyard; it's closer to dirt, but real dirt - the kind you come to when you dig beneath trees - it's alive.
The public domain is central, not peripheral.
The merchants' edge is a like a fungus, a parasitic growth, and for a lot of us, who grew up completely disconnected from any other way, that growth seemed to be all there was. But the online world has created a refutation of that, an unstoppable return to what the public domain really is. Which is not an economic term. Public domain only became a legal term when merchants began making the laws.
The public domain is ours, we are the public and this is our domain. Merchants have attached themselves to that, strip-mined it, harvested it, clear-cut it.
It's a kid's logic - the question, why aren't the best-seller lists representing the all-time best? The answer being because there's no profit in it. Merchants determine what's available according to what sells. The stores sell things. And we're brainwashed into thinking the store is the only place to get music, or books. You have to buy it. Your relationship with it has to be economic first.
Music is a commodity, a luxury, economically secondary, unnecessary. Even though it's a virtual necessity in many people's lives, especially among the young and mating, even though people take music with them everywhere, turn to it for comfort, use it for solace. The most important human events, marriage, funerals, inaugurations, graduations, virtually everything but birth itself, which has its own songs, is held together by music, the participants are united by music. That's not peripheral, and it's not a luxury, it's essential.
Online file-sharing, that was in its beginning hackers and college kids mostly, has turned into a place where people share music they like and love, and it has nothing to do with immediate gain in many cases. So lo and behold there's music with no price tag, side by side with the latest corporate artists, just like it is in our lives.
The mercantile idea is that music from 50 years ago is less important than music made today. But that's only true to the people who sell it.
It's like cars. Cars must be new. The idea of having a car for thirty years, much less the absurd idea of having a car you maintain and pass down to your children, is unthinkable for most people.
And yet we do that, and do it lovingly, with furniture, with clothing, blankets even, dishes, hand tools. How many of us have things our parents used, our grandparents, an uncle or an aunt. Or things we got at garage sales that were old and well-used, and valued because of that? But a car? Older than twenty years? An antique, a hobby.
This is corporate brainwashing, and in its destructiveness it's evil pure and simple. By any definition, once all the effects are accounted for, it's evil.
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The bookmarks below are nearly random links to music sites. Some of them are indexes of music sites themselves. This is not an informative list, or a project; it doesn't represent my taste musically, just links that ended up in this one bookmark island after a month or two of accumulation.
Absolute Cherry
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