Archive for the Permusations Category

A little Glockenspiel music

Not sure even how to describe the band I saw at the Cedar Cultural Center on Saturday. The Nordic Roots Festival brought over a Swedish group called “Detektivbyrån”, I believe Detective Bureau in English.

The easy part to describe would be how they looked. Imagine if the Ramones’ parents had given them a glockenspiel, an accordion and sampling keyboard instead of guitars and drums. Exactly. Just imagine Joey Ramone rocking the accordian with one hand and playing the keyboard with the other and throw in some head thrashing and you got it.

How do they sound? Infectious, energetic, and great deal a lot like you would expect a glockenspiel, an accordion put through an effects board, some sampling and a drum kit would sound. I know that watching and listening to them made me smile. I noticed it made many people around me smile too.  Except for the guy down the row who plugged his ears on one song, though that may be was because of the piercing loudness of some of the higher pitcthed glockenspiel notes.

Anyway, you can listen here  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLTS0tcqgZE to one example.

I think the thing that sealed the deal on the concert was when the drummer played a scissors as the percussion instrument through an entire song. And it did actually sound like a scissors snapping shut. Snip snipsnip, snip snipsnip, snip snipsnip. Ya, baby.

The wonderful creative minds out there. Which reminds me the other day I saw an ad for “Dancing with the Stars,” which I have never seen, but I thought it said “Dancing with the Bears.” Now that would be cool. Just try to look sexy doing the tango with a bear, assuming it will dance a tango. I can just see this giant Russian Bear standing there with his arms crossed saying “I only dance Mazurka.” Contestants would be more worried about being thrown off the stage than thrown off the show.

I’ll have to name my first recording, “If You can get a Bear to Tango” or maybe “Songs to get Tossed By.”

But back to the Detektivbyrån. Oh, just go listen to them. You’ll get the idea.

Unintentional Motivation

As some of you may know David Foster Wallace committed suicide recently. Wallace was the author or “Infinite Jest,” a highly acclaimed novel and considered a bright star of the current literary generation. A very sad passing.

I read or I tried to read “Infinite Jest” several times. The novel is War and Peace in it’s length and so when I say I only managed to get through about 250 pages each time you can see I only had begun reading it. But I just couldn’t do it.  I could see that the prose was well crafted and the many themes were woven carefully through the story. But it did nothing for me. It was like reading literary oatmeal, I knew it was good for me but I couldn’t find the flavor to keep me going.

Fortunately, my conclusion was not that it was not any good. My conclusion was more like I had lost my taste for it. Kind of like when I have yogurt for breakfast everyday for too long and finally really don’t want to have yogurt again for a very long time.

In analytical hindsight I suspect that my thought process, consciously and subconsciously, went a little something like this. I have obviously lost my taste for “serious” literature” and the disaffection comes perhaps from a knowledge that I wanted to stop reading about people living and doing and actually start living and doing myself. So Wallace in writing a book that bored me to death actually brought me to life. I guess I owe that debt to him and am sorry that he had to pass for me to grasp that.

It reminds me of the final meeting that drove me out of the corporate world. A Project manager, we’ll call her Sarah, held this interdepartmental meeting to try to help improve communication and cooperation between the departments. Despite some passionate and conflicting view points it was oddly a very enlightening meeting that did help the departments understand where each was coming from.  Everybody thought the meeting went well.

The meeting was critically successful but at the same time it was terrible and crushing. I had just spent all this energy on something that I hated. I went back to my desk called someone to meet them for happy hour and left. And though I had not technically quit when I left that day, I was done. This awful meeting had given me the inertia to break free.

To end with a literary reference, these two events are like the intentional fallacy: the successes or motivations I took from them were probably not what the authors intended, and in fact once the works are placed in the public domain, the authors lose all control of whatever intent they may have hoped for.

And so thank goodness for failed intentions.

Dream a little dream

I usually don’t dwell on my dreams too much. Not to say that they don’t have meaning, but that I don’t make any real effort to recall or analyze them. But, sometimes they do shed some light into the darkness of the soul. I don’t mean dark as in evil but dark as in shadowy and hard to see.

And now it sounds like I have some dark secret to reveal, which I don’t. But on to the dream.

So I have this dream where I have made a large quilt for someone, except that it’s a unique quilt in that it is made of wood, kind of like a butcher block but not glued but sewn together, kind of like those seat covers you see that are a bunch of wooden balls threaded together except in this case the balls are square. So several of us are moving this obviously heavy quilt up the stairs and it starts to fall apart in spots and I’m trying to hold it together and hoping no one notices so I can fix it later but it keeps crumbling and soon I am trapped in this now cargo nettingesque quilt and can’t move and fade to gray.

Really, it’s not that strange of a dream. I knew immediately where it came from. I just finished this headboard and footboard where I used dowels to attach the legs to the headboard and footboard. I had never done that before and was not sure how many dowels I needed, how big they had to be, how I was going to accurately thread them and secure them and so on. And last night I was showing some friends the bed and talking about the dowels and how I hoped it was strong enough.

It was this lingering doubt that  manifested itself in the dream. I was disconcerted to find out these doubts where so embedded in my subconscious. The good thing I took from it though was that the doubts were about mechanics and not about the design.  Mechanics can be fixed.

So hopefully no dreams about failed designs though it may be interesting to see what kind of dream manifests as a design doubt. Something tells me there would be pigs or bears in it.  

Miscommentary

Lately I have this bee in my bonnet or maybe more like a bug in my shoe about comments posted by readers on news sites. I like to go to a couple different news sites to get different perspectives on stories and for some reason I am fascinated not only by the comments people leave but by the comments that are allowed. So I have researched comment behaviors at a handful of news outlets, though certainly not expansive enough to be scientific it did allow some insight. 

You might think that reader comments would be akin letters to the editor, but from what I can tell that is not true. Letters to the Editor appear to be controlled. For example, a paper wouldn’t typically print multiple letters to the editor that say essentially the same thing. They are edited for content and grammar and other journalistic standards.

But not comments. They are a free for all. The only thing I can tell that is not allowed are offensive words. (Granted there was one news site that appeared to apply Letter to the Editor standards to its comments).

Of course there are different types of commenters. The serious commenter tying to make a point about an article, pro or con. The Class Clown who just belittles everything in the article in an effort to be funny. Mr Sarcasm who just mocks the other the other commenters. The Fencer who likes to spar with other commenters. The Politico who turns every article on anything into a comment on either republicans or democrats. And of course for sports articles the Monday Morning Quarterback.

The deafening amount of noise and chatter just washes away in a  tide of blather any earnest commentary. So in effect the comment feature that the news outlets tout as valid reader response becomes just nonsensical.

Now there was that one site that seemed to control reader comments (or their readers were extremely disciplined and courteous, which I doubt). But that means that some employee was monitoring and making decisions, the type of employee that probably doesn’t exist anymore at most news outlets. Though perhaps the news outlets that choose not to have comments at all are the ones I should be supporting since they are clearly not trying to convince me that these reader comments have any journalistic value. But maybe comments are like publicity.

As a last point what seems to be interesting is that if you go out and look at numerous blogs (not associated withe major news outlets) you seem to find that comments seem to stay on target. But perhaps that has to do with the volume of readership and the more targeted audience.

That being said, I will accept no blathering comments on my blog. Unless of course they are really funny.

It’s all happening at the zoo, I mean, the fair

I know what the world needs now is not a another blog entry about the MN State Fair but for selfish reasons I will write one anyway.

First, I have a chair and a lamp on display there in the Creative Arts Building. So I’ll take that as a positive. I think they each were fourth place. Though the dark spot in the bottom of my heart that is still filled with, well, you know, dark things, is telling me that the pieces probably got into the show because that’s all that was entered. But we’ll squash that thought back into it’s cold dark corner and move on. So, if you go out to the fair, you’ll know the pieces because they are the ones with curves. Though I give credit to the items that received higher awards in that they had higher degrees of technicality and execution than mine, I believe my designs were slightly bolder and more original.

I will give my one fair highlight, though. We were waiting in line to ride the sky glider across the fair.  It’s basically an open chair like a ferris wheel.  Well, standing in front of us was a couple, a loaded couple. Bumbling, stumbling loaded. Lil Pammie Anderson, as we will call the female of the couple, was being held up by Bubba, the male. One of the ride supervisors tried to convince them it might be dangerous to go on the ride in such condition, but since she was arguing with loaded Bubba I can’t see how she felt that she was going to win the argument. My only hope for the situation was that hopefully one of them would puke or stumble horribly as they got off the ride. Alas, neither happened. You’ll notice I did not wish for one of them to fall off the ride while it was in the air. That would be terrible.

Saving the planet with peanuts

Packing peanuts, that is.  If you ever order anything online, you know that everything is sent to you with packing peanuts. I ordered a book. It came protected by packing peanuts.  I appreciate the effort to ensure the safety of my book, but really. I ordered some supplements online.  Two little bottles came in a 10×10 box filled with peanuts.  Would you like some product with those peanuts or are the peanuts just fine? I was tempted to order some circus peanuts online but was afraid I might eat the wrong ones.

It’s an inundation of peanuts. Soon they’ll take up more room in landfills than disposable diapers, which may or may not be worse than incinerating them.

But unbeknownst to me there is an underworld of Styrofoam scrappers (metal scrappers are a whole other story) out there who want your peanuts. My friend Linda gets kudos for pointing this one out to me.  She was cleaning out some old boxes and packages and had all these packing peanuts. So she went out to Craigslist and informed people that she had several bags of packing peanuts for free. Apparently she got all kinds of responses and someone who sells stuff on ebay came and picked them up.  What other subcultures are out there on Craigslist? Hmmm.

So all you people ordering things online and especially you ebay addicts (you know who you are), save those peanuts.  And when you have a couple bags full, let Craigslist know and we’ll save the planet one peanut at a time. 

Too bad there’s nothing to be done with those disposable diapers. Unless there’s some strange world of diaper scrappers out there that I don’t know about yet…or maybe I don’t want to know.

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It’s the Kilt, Stupid

My friend Richard called me yesterday all excited and left me a message. He was at the St Paul Irish Fair and he had just won the “Best Legs in a Kilt Contest.” He’ll get to ride in the St Paul St Patrick’s Day Parade. Wow, it just goes to show you that you never know where those 15 minutes of fame will come from.

So if we all will be famous for 15 minutes, will you know when it’s come and gone? The information age has created such a wealth of activity out there that your fame may come and go and you might not even know it. Maybe that’s OK though, since fame seems to take a toll on so many famous people.

Speaking of the Irish Fair, I was there on Saturday and saw the Irish Music and Dance Association Workshop Tent. From afar I thought it said “worship tent.” I’m thinking, you’ve taken this a bit far, haven’t you. And anyway, all the real worshipping seemed to be taking place at the beer tent. 

Maybe I need to get a kilt. I could have pictures taken wearing my kilt and standing by my furniture. That might be a good PR gimmick.

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Focusing on Cruelty Fries

As the Minnesota State Fair inches closer, I remember walking through the grounds last year and seeing a booth in the distance over the throngs of people. “Cruelty Fries” is what I thought it said and was intrigued by the idea, believing that many of the foods at the state fair are indeed cruel tricks on unsuspecting fair goers. Read the rest of this entry »

Penguins and Geniuses

“Hundreds of baby geniuses washing up dead on Brazilian shores” is what I thought the headline read. An awfully shocking thought that was fortunately a misread on my part. I could unfortunately imaging the cult out there that might exist that was kidnapping the world’s smartest babies. Read the rest of this entry »

Crowbars and Taste

I was doing some demolition in a client’s kitchen the other day and picked up a crowbar. And as I picked up the crowbar I noticed the brand-name label on it and it gave me pause. I was certain it said “RougeNeck” and wondered if I had stolen some Metrosexual’s crowbar. Unfortunately, after a moment of clarity I realized it was “RoughNeck.” Read the rest of this entry »