A Human Movement
Fresh in from a loved one:
oh shitnuts do you need to get a load of this. you should put this on your
blog. it presents a whole host of questions re: censorship and music, yadda
yadda, besides being almost surreal to watch.
http://mediax.muchosucko.com/movies/512_video_frank_zappa_crossfire.movPASTE IT YOUR URL, NO HOT LINKING MEDIA ALLOWED HERE.
From TG: I wish he would have put it on "my" blog... and I don't know why it should be here, nobody looks at it (A Human Movement.) I think we've got one regular reader and he also could be a contributer. Am I an asshole for blogging? That is the question.
I am convinced that all living creatures can communicate. I think trees radiate growth emission conversations through the the wind and in the soil, I think all animals can talk. It is a lie of jerkery to think that only humans can talk, it is my conviction that squirrels have serious contributions to make to the world of art and science.
The question is: what keeps a person from understanding animals? Is it a too strict adherence to logic? Anal retentive uptightness? the emotional plague!!
I don't know...
But I maintain that everything can talk, communicate, and experience equally. This post is going to be kept short, I really just want to "get it down" as it were. There is more to come... But check it: "nothing can be said that cannot be understood by anything said to."
Here is another question: why do new age people always have to have bad style? I think there needs to be a new
new age, one that accepts a rigid esthetics, no more pink dolphin dream catchers,
no one will take us seriously with all the wishy-washy
8th grade symbolism. If we, as a force of humanity, are going to stand against logic through the acceptence of extra-sentorial acusmata, we are going to have to do so in a way that is pleasing to look at.
Let's get serious about this, folks.
It all ends here...(
Quickly, before I forget this I would like to address one of the major problems of being a human in the western world of American civilization as I have come to understand it. The difference between 1968 and 1981 is thirteen years. This means that for a 40 year old person in 1981, who was born in 1941 and was 27 in 1968, to exert the memory energy and recall 1968 in 1981 is the identical memory-energy exerted by a person who was born in 1978, and was 24 years of age in 2002 recalling 1989 as thirteen years before. The problem is not as I described it, the problem is that there is no one word which may be employed to describe these types of relationships.
) Had we terms capable of describing ways in which humans recall years in identical fashions through measureable sizes of energy-perpective understood, maybe we'd be able to stop the misunderstanding of the year making machine that only drives us towards our own termination. Further, we probably would be able to communicate better, old to young, non-person to person. The communication must strengthened, which has been so far surpressed by the misunderstanding of the jerks that dropped us off here, 2005.
A homeless man introduced himself on the train today as Brother William, he was a good looking man, but missing some teeth. He told the crowd that he was nearly blind with glaucoma in both eyes, and homeless and hungry. He went the "I don't drink or do drugs" route, but then added some very touching lines about respecting all god's creatures that gave me the right set of goose bumps. A man then asked him about his condition and his eyes, I didn't hear Brother William's response but it was too late the man had grabbed William's hand was praying for him, I could hear some mumblings about blessings and fathers and he and spirit and health, and then another guy, dressed in a business suit, reached in and put his hand on top of the others'. It was a veritable prayer circle, it got louder, a women joined in and there were now four chanting mumblers sending their energy over to Brother William, who could have probably just used a buck. The women sitting next to me lowered her head and started mumbling attentively to the rhythm of the first guy who had started the prayers for Brother William. It was over and the homeless Williams went on his way. Are other people seeing these things? It was very nineteenth century, I imagined.
since I've come to certain realizations about the scum skin phonetic alphabet adored as commmerative family relations between the forms of man, who may be considered to be creatures of shoulders and thumbs, desire eyelids avoiding darkness and brains controlled by the obsessive need to make off with the torch they used to guide them here, I am confident in the pronoun smash procedure where the she's of he's become the eating utensils for a better version of mankind, and not just, the procedure leave many just as they are, slaves to the emotionless button response of cavity cleaning, I can see the double nature that has evolved into the foreskin quadruple bypass that you are unable to commit to everytime you find pleasure, when you gobble down your own follies of your favorite insurrections, moments you discuss in comfort of light, I am talking to you as he is talking to me, I carry the torch that is fastened to the wall of your object doubting habits, with hairy spots on your eyes, for the beauty of your parents nightmares.
the problem when it comes down to it, is the guilded crust that you strive to polish, and sell to me and sell to them or anyone with the coin craft particular to your inferior taste game banter, I'm here to witness the illness with which you carry you're sagging souls,
the homosexual war machine should not surprise you,
the difference between the favorite horse of your youth on the farm, the dreams your mother forced you to have to apply yourself, and the bullets and bombs you pay for is nill, you, the love making waste hair styled mongrel are the real enemy, the dream is over, the striving of skills that they trained you is now the very crassness you seek to stop through the amplification of your behavior codenamed on your chest. I am in the clear because i can see the strips of cable laid, I know the coordinates, you are everywhere else besides where you need to be, I've got eyes instead of hands and hands where my ancestors lie years into the future still. Greasey waste lick purchasing power is all you crave, even your degenerate friends are only out for kill, great for him, put it in his sweating wallet, but when the pole is driven through your efforts that is really or corporal head, the blood and cream which may spew out will only be as useless as your favorite beloved march you step, with purple and yellow feathers, on top of central burial grounds of the upward mystical reality missed, like gloves on the gardener, my hands are in the earth's soil, I'd only be jealous of you if you said the same to me, through which my legs are the flippers of the continental drift,
I received a poem in the mail from a friend, I am going to change it around, contribute to it while keeping it the same, this is all in an effort to embrace my own ideas of the power of withinness, and the strength of the strictly personal. I stand opposed to ideas that force "transcend(dence of) the individual essence of expression, reaching toward an instance of pan-signification." If anything, I believe that the ultra-embrace of the strictly personal is itself a gateway to the discovery of "meaning of relevance to a society or people as a whole." Or at least I offer this as a possibility. here goes:
a felicitous phrase tripped brackets,
upon a petal cause laid barren
on the dewy step of time that worked radicalization of what was the norm
for the floor toward the forms of equality, and not in vain
moist are the mechanics of thoughtspeak,
too often dry is the connection between men
easy through the echoplex of soul.
1,2,3,4, awareness speaks as the echo of voice
as yonder floral prints inflect tribal know-how
the naked back of reason,
is aggressive to the psychological will,
when the reverberation is mixed poorly
Allow me to introduce myself to myself;
Hello, here is what I believe in. I believe in seperation of identity from action,
I believe in timeless progression of the soul, I believe in a definition of soul which changes the word soul to some other unintelligable sound representing whatever any person wishes it to represent as they say, think, do it. It would not be odd for me to believe that there are forces of good and bad, and that they intermix historically, but goodness is essentially weak and badness is essentially strong. Viewed in this way I think algae is better then steel, birch bark has more goodness then plastic. I am not going to not find the goodness in a plastic bag, as I believe excepting the strength and durability of a thing is a type of weakness that is good. I believe in a definition of identity which would be the complete opposite of naming a thing, for instance if a totem pole is before you, I think that everything else around you is the identity of the totem pole, not the pole itself, I intend to say that; the not-pole is the pole. The known thing is always impossible to know and I am completely comfortable with that, I support a continual shifting vision-sense-knowledge world where the ground is not below you, what is below you is not below you, because as a good person you know that there is something above the ceiling which of course is the ground for that which is above ceiling, you wouldn't want to ignore what you know, you wouldn't want to avoid a cloud if a cloud introduced itself to you, to push a way a cloud is a strong act and is bad, the goal of man is to reside in the clouds, upwards like creme pouring out of the teet and upwards into your mouth, so, what is below you is what is on top of you and this is not chaotic or irrational or anarchic for you to conceive of, it simply is what's going on. There's much more I must tell myself, but I have to be on my way right now, I'll be around the track in no time and back here soon.
...at the end of the day, I really wouldn't mind if they did bring back Crystal Pepsi
...in fact, I think I might go out and get me a
Crystal Pepsi, it might be a wild high to drink 1994 again?
not to be missed
Legacy: Understanding Black Power Forty Years Later
Black History Exhibit
The Johns Hopkins University
Milton S. Eisenhower Library
This exhibition, Legacy: Understanding Black Power Forty Years Later, is less about a historical period than a whole generation of people. That generation grew up during the period of Black Power and now grows old in a world changed by its ideas. To understand the impact of the movement today, look at the people Black Power shaped, how it affected them, and how, they now influence what we see each day.
state of the union
I recently logged into the new Google "search history"
thing, which seeks to personalize the search interface by letting it collect users' google searches overtime. Since April 22, I've logged 79 searches with at least a third of them yielding "no clicked results."
I immediately wished that the Google "search history" had a RSS function that I could use to syndicate all my manic, search-state
searching onto your A.H.M.
Through the ibiblio.org blog
, I found that some computer guy, John Resig
, from Rochester Institute of Technology, had developed a tool which does, in fact, turn one's Google "search history" into an RSS feed. I don't have the PERL skills, or the care to really figure out how to use it (I'm sure Google will make it easier for a "blogger" like me in the future.) However, this ibiblio blog also pointed me down the road to some internet chatter about the privacy concerns with Google storing people's "search history" on their sunny mountain top servers. These were the same concerns people voiced about Google's Gmail plans to search users e-mail for keywords and tailor advertisement placement to user-specific data. There is a great example of the trend toward demonizing google at Wired here: Why Google is Like Wal-Mart
I am concerned with privacy as much as the next person, however, I find this concern at odds with my love of information openness. I suppose I'll have to risk my idealism while moving forward with a certain amount of naivete. But with that same idealism, I ask you: Why not share 'search histories'? Personally, I want everyone to share the joys of seeing some of my search poetry:Here is a nice example
of what I mean by search poetry (It's poetry for the 21st century folks! It's all about the yieldingness of language, the double nature of knowledge emerging out from the moment of inquiry and the choices made as result, perhaps it deserves a post of its own___??)
I also am interested in search history from the perspective of searching library catalogs, in the effort of building learned vocabulary association for searches, (such that if you search for the keyword 'flag,' the catalog might also assign the word 'flag-pole' or 'half-staffed' to your search, or any other word that was successful in yielding clicked results from other people who searched for the keyword 'flags.') I suppose in this way I am interested in the crossroads of technology, where the concerns of privacy and ethical practice are at odds with anti-individualist sentiment of hive-mind type application philosophy, but more importantly, I have one big question that I wish could be answered, it is*:
If google nowhere requires any real information from its users (not address, not real name, not soc. sec. #, not credit cards) what is the big deal about the company knowing about its users like's and dislikes? Who is the fake persona that google thinks I am? What is the most a company can take from a person's created identity? (This reminds me of filling out credit card applications on college campus back in 1996 in order to get the free t-shirts.) But seriously, can someone, anyone please help me along in thinking this through? How could Google take the next step to actually finding out who a person is, if the person has subscribed to Google's services using anonymous data?*
For background to this suggestion please see:"I suppose my mission is" post
from June 22, 2003
Sports as art, art as sports... you know it's not hard to view professional sports in America as one magnificent installation piece, but was I the only person to see that the grounds crew had cut an image of the city skyline into the grass of Shea Stadium?
I think that deserves some respect.
The Power of Watch U Listen 2
Yeah, well, there's been a short gap in posts here from tel esta, I've just been keepin' 'em to myself, among other things. Learning to say; "Fuck You." and Gnarly... Fuck every single one of you, and your private lives, and your favorite concerns, I can only hope you want the same from me, I'd be so jealous. A Judgeless Utopia exclamation! Add a little echo to the fuck you I'm saying so it resonates deeper into the brain's horseshit canal forever!
Every person has strengths and weaknesses, it's up to every person to reverse them each time. If you are bad at something, make that good and if you are good at something, make that bad. I am not trying to prostletize, but if facts are faced - I love being prostletize to, so why should I stop there?
two things I've been lit up over:
Godspeed the Static
and writing poems; here's one I just nabbed from the nabe of my today's text files, I think I hit about 7 or 8.5 today.
sweet equality approach
give a man day old bread
behold a diamond boot equation
mindmeld swamp conundrum
scaffold lightning seminar
radar bowel emblazened for days
irritated jackal noose, up step-parent alley
bent lifestyle threesome birdfeeder
a daughter of an eyelid, throw away vision
the words you come up with are much more your brains then your brains are
brains are the words you come with to the communication line
get behind me
water fountain sandwich stool
stick sun maroon dry day
on a pile of sand in the corner
step on it neutral, gas mask of make-up
the scenarios created with words are your judges that judge you
activator activation insert identity pronoun gallup
let's make a line of riders
simple situations get done but not pre-arranged
electric pads of current, throbbing those who assign wrong answers
not the line up
timely players understand, (what was done once is twice done at most in front of insert word initiate)
swing felt preyed upon thwarting
Now that I have added this sidebar --> thing which is automatically updated with links as they are touched by my hands down here at the keyboard; I think that it allows actual posts, such as this one, to exhibit themselves more or less, 'link-free.' Since I don't have to make posts which say "hey, check this power source for mind state creation via your own hands out" (although they will come) I can instead just lay out text, words, dots, sounds spelled as they arrive, and also, of course, more genuine 'one of a kind' information.
What is genuine 'one of a kind' information? It's the process of leaving a light on, the uncovering of materials which have been hitherto covered. Casting light onto dark places, etc. which sounds cliche, because as a young man, I've got pretty good night eyes. I eat carrots. We eat carrots. I expect people can see well in the dark, so 'one of a kind' information has less to do with light then expected, which is itself an instatiation of the light clause.
Are there some words that have never been spelt? A Human Movment encourages words to be set on display that have never been spelt before. We will call these words, 'words that have never been spelt before.' Although we will never know if these words truly have never been spelt before at some time, we will come to know this knowledge that we are uncertain as to whether they may have been spelt at some other time come to represent a force similar to tragedy in the universe. We are sad because we are still lacking a means of communication as animal-time-riders to be certain of something so simple of whether or not a word has been spelt before. In this way communicating what has not been communicated before will take a certain precedence, and hopefully engender some real discovery.
So here goes:
Ok, good, that's a start.
Some people like the idea of found photography, I think the term readymade is used to describe certain aspects of people's art who prefer to posit beauty in objects manufactured for some other purpose, but presented in the context of art by some artist. I happen to like these sort of ideas and will draw on them for inspiration for posts on A Human Movement. Here is something I found, a poem from a contest at University of Chicago, the Foster Hall Poetry Competition, from some time in the 1940's. Consider this poem once lost, now found - in so far as you are now reading it.Reality: Objective and Subjective
You count for only this --
One grain of sand upon a beach at night;
One splinter, on a two-by-four, left
among some lonely timbers
of a fallen, once-a-house;
One dandelion, in meadowland,
that grew sometime, somewhere.
The pole on which I turn,
The cornerstone of all I know,
The final scale (for me) of beauty's essence, --
You count for all of this.
from the past future:
"There is not the slightest doubt in my mind that radio will become one of the most powerful constructive forces for the education of our people if we devote adequate attention to the development of truly educational programs."
John W. Studebaker
Unites States Commissioner of Education and Chairman, Federal Radio Education Committee
from the The Bulletin of the University of Minnesota, Minnesota School of the Air, Second Semester 1939-40
in my dream there was a penisless boy who had no problems with killing, it was my job to instill in him a sense of order, feeling, or compassion. even his own death, self-inflicted or otherwise, brought to him only chuckles. There might have been more then one of him, but the others were only followers, he was the one leader, or at least at that moment he had the attention of the others. I couldn't teach him to respect the life of the living, his carelessness was borne from inexperience, but it was maudlinly odd for a child having 9 to 11 years to be filled with such malevolence. I recognized in him that he might have actually cared, and greatly so, but that he was just incapable of expressing it. All I could do, in the short time I shared with im, was to ridicule him and try to persuade his fellows that the one was no fun. There was a window and a beach, and plenty of milk and orange juice for all of us.
It must be great to join the army and have all that order and hierarchy everywhere to make sense of life, from cadet to corporal to corpse. It's fun to find out how easy it is to reminisce to the point that one's sentimentality becomes gold dust of longing for things past, only the dust is real, it's scatters behind one's eyes. It's especially real for those soldiers out there, who've had orders drilled at them, and then, when it's over, and they're civilians, they miss the days of rank, salutes and march. I am sure that there is a strong relationship between memory and rules, the more rules you live under the more memories you have to long for. Those raised in the wild, don't remember yesterday. I read somewhere about some scientist shooting a gun next to the head of a child raised alone, with no human contact, and the child did not even flinch - did not even care about the loud sound of the weapon. Talk about a good soldier. I wonder what symbol best represents the future? If the past is a clock, or old man time, what is the future? I am thinking water, black water, swimming at night.
Read all about it:
Super-Conscious Mind Recognized by Scientists
New York, April 4, 1928.—Jules-Bois, French lecturer and member of L’Ecole de Psychologie, or psychological department of the Sorbonne, arrived yesterday on the French liner Il de France. He told of the recognition on the part of French scientists of the so-called "superconscious" mind which is the exact opposite of Dr. Sigmund Freud’s subconscious mind and which he said was the quality "which makes man really man and not just a super-animal."
M. Jules-Bois said that the existence of a superconscious mind had long been recognized philosophically, being in reality the "over-soul" spoken of by Emerson, but that it was only recently that it had been recognized scientifically. He described it as the mental attribute which afforded inspiration to genius. He said that belief in this was not mysticism though it recognized and valued the qualities which mystics preached.
The new psychological quality had been investigated in French laboratories associated with the Sorbonne, he said. M. Jules-Bois added that it had practical applications and described how French psychologists had cured an habitual drunkard by arousing his sense of moral values through the awakening of this superconscious mind.
He said that the awakening of the moral consciousness was not to be confused with Coueism or hypnotism. These, though effective in some cases, he said, were relatively superficial. M. Jules-Bois, who has already spoken in this country under the auspices of the Alliance Francaise, will lecture on this subject in America.—New York Times.
It's been a little over 1 year since SS posted "Little smoky sense, you bent your neck uncomfortably
" to the Human2, a post which damn near brought it all to a stand still, and was surely a deft blow to the soul core of the project. What else could we do, but let this post stand triumphantly? (Especially, considering that I am the only person who posts with any frequency, and S was the only person who posted with any eloquence.)
So, no need to shed a tear for a mere year. You can still access dear Sco.'s Egon Bondy inspired ode to Czech and Slovakian history and all your favorite Human2 posts here.
Nothing is lost that can be shown in light again!!
Tonight I'll be inducted into Beta Phi Mu
, a library and information science honors society. I have no idea what to expect but there is a reception, a dinner, a lot of self-congratulation, and a talk by the Dean of SUNY/Stony Brook libraries on the efforts of Americans to rebuild libraries in Iraq. I consider this my first step towards infiltrating the Free Masons
. I'm going to have to tuck my shirt in.
The option is there now for titles, which might come in handy for viewing individual posts in the future, as opposed to naming them the first four or five words of the post, but on the whole, I think that posts should remain nameless. We all must remain nameless!
Also I think it might be nice to develop some sort of a color scheme for posts, where the color of the text denotes what kind of post it is, sort of like Trivial Pursuit, only evolvingly so.
Art of the body = Brown
Time Travel = black
Reminders = Blue
Sports = Yellow
World Affairs Peaceful = ?
World Affairs Contentious = Red
Personal Statements = keep 'em black
Poetry = Grey
First post with a title:
Thinking about adding titles to the movement posts, but I am not sure, it seems a little over the top to title each post. Leaving the title blank is still an option, but I just want to see what the title might look like. I have been experimenting with layouts, I want to add a right column with links, perhaps, maybe move the archive over there, but I kind of like the simple layout now, and I like how it is all one scrollable thing... the problem of losing posts is still as real as ever. Just trying to make my human experience best as possible.
Ouch, that title is horrible, I am going to have to change the layout and design of it, because it is too big and too close to the post itself, sorta fixed now
I hate this design shit, period, but I guess all things come down to looks at some point.
If you want some fun on a Friday afternoon, take some time out of your routine to figure out what's going on in the world. For starters, I'd suggest watching this video (three parts) and then reading this critique of it. If you find yourself able to agree, in part, with both sides, then you are on the right track.
From the bonanza department of free music that ain't bad because sound is the heart of your blood, and your head is made of blood, with sponsorship from the Center of the Study of the Affects of Relayed Information comes:Seastones,
a live side project of Grateful Dead bassist Phil Lesh. For a period of time in the early to mid 70's, it seems the Dead would stop the pseudo-country jamboree noodlefests, and play (with the aid of this 'Ned Lagin'
character) some improv noise grooves bordering on properly non-narrative soundscapes. Now, I'm no deadhead, but if you cull through your Internet Archive
for 'Seastones,' and you go directly to those tracks called 'Seastones' from some of the Dead shows that the search yields, you are sure to find some fantastic time spending audio from the depths of. It's a real relic-totem in the scope of man's love of tools and music technology, and a footnote in how smart dudes have crazy instrument collections. I think this is the kind of stuff gave the Dead, the real 'psychedelic cred,' or at least sustained it, after the merry pranksters were only a memory. Believe
it, or be set aside!
She gets it. 'Yo' is spending the day with the thought and ideas of Doris Humphrey, seminal figure in the history of modern dance. Her name often falls along side a Martha Graham, as both were of the same generation of students at Denishawn. Hah. Allow me to cut to the chase, so you can stare at this picture some more, and freely so, it's quite unreal (and, I might add goes most nicely with a heavy dose of Slowdive.)
Nonetheless, I want to call to attention the theory of Humphrey, which was so important to her work and legacy. In her 1958/9 book 'The Art of Making Dances,' Humphrey lays out in words, what before went unsaid, a theory of modern dance. You'll often find the expression "fall and recovery" used in association with Humphrey, as she thought that dance was found in that moment between tension and relaxation in the human. You know you've seen this sort of thing before, when the dancers tighten up and then stretch out from one movement to the next. Humphrey called this 'in between state' "the arc between two deaths." Very nice. It reminds me of guitar strumming, as the sound that comes alive, does so between the upstroke and downstroke of the hand, wrist and arm. Apparently, there is a chance that Humphrey was not only refering to muscles in the body with her idea of "the arc between two deaths." There is a possibility that she also meant it to describe the deeper mental states involved in the dancer, in a meditative state of being. With ration and logic paired on the one side in tension, and imagination and chaos on the other side with emotion and relaxation. If this is so, then "the arc between two deaths" is an idea which for me, is a lot "more" then a theoretical dance instruction. It is a statement on how to live correctly, on where to posit one's life center. Perhaps America's best philosophers in the 20th Century were dancers? Ok, back to the picture. Thank you,developing.
Added April 8th, it turns out that Humphrey was a descendant of Ralph Waldo Emerson, so was especially close to the 'over-soul,' double-developing!
Two sets of knowledge recently tapped into;
I am jealous of my co-worker who is processing the papers of John Becker, a modernist composer of the early 20th century. In the papers is a long line of correspondence from Henry Cowell, including letters from San Quentin. I was able to see some programs from concerts that Cowell put together for the prison band thanks to the kindness of Warden Court Smith. There is surely much more information that she gets to cruise through, regarding the personal relationships with Henry Cowell and Charles Ives, and Cowell's falling out with Ives regarding the jail stint, and the sex with young men thing. A lot of the materials were to be closed for 10 years after Cowell's death, and I am not sure how much past researchers of Cowell have actually taken witness to these exact materials as they have been dwelling in the netherworlds of unprocessed collections.
And yesterday, through research, I came across the Davies Project
at Princeton University, which has a quick list type database of historical libraries in the United States before 1876. It shows you collection sizes by location and type, with data culled from the work of a Prof. Haynes McMullen, emeritus, University of North Carolina between 1960 and ca. 1995. It's very inspiring.
Another choice slit through which to peak at the lives we've inherited:
From the July 1965 Dance Magazine
Choreographer Anna Sokolow
I hate academies, I hate fixed ideas of what a thing should be, of how it should be done. I don't like imposing rules, because the person, the artist, must do what he feels right, what he - as an individual - feels he must do. If we establish an academy, there can be no future for modern dance. An art should be constantly changing; it cannot have fixed rules.
The trouble with the modern dance now is that it is trying to be respectable. The founders of the modern dance were rebels; their followers are bourgeouis. The younger generation is too anxious to please, too eager to be accepted. For art, this is death. To young dancers, I want to say: "Do what you feel you are, not what you think you ought to be. Go ahead and be a bastard. Then you can be an artist."
Random Playlisting with ItunesDead
Tuba Is Funny (Slight Return) /The Dead C /Language Recordings (Disc 2)
Drillbit /The Dead C /Language Recordings (Disc 2)
Bitcher /The Dead C /The White House
Dead Chick in The River /Sun City Girls /Kaliflower
And So The Dead Tongue Sang /Sun City Girls /Kaliflower
Turn me on Dead Man /Swell Maps /A Trip To Marineville
Action sound deadman /Trumans Water /10x My age
...just typed 'dead'
into the search box on my itunes library and got this choicest of playlists.
"' TIS TREASON, MY GOOD MAN! FOUR REVOLUTIONARY PRESIDENTS AND A PICCADILLY BOOKSHOP. "
...brought to my attention, so I post here as not to forget, this fine appearing release.
Just found out that 'a human movement' founding father, Josh Carr, has a word press blog of his own.
No one else has returned to 'a human movement's' pastures, save for I, telle. Occasional provocateur, once known as n. krapels is now stating his case here,
and elsewhere for sure. Missing is ss, who won't factor in to the digital expression conversation without a good fight.
It has always been my contention that one polemical viewpoint cannot exist without its opposite. As simple as the yin and yang, you can't have left without right, you can't have wrong without right. So, it seems that as a person striving for life (opposed to death,) only a fool would except a mind dominated by one side of the coin of the events of their lives. Flip a coin four times, and while the chance of it landing tails is still 50% the chance of it laying tails 4 times in a row is less. (However, If a person were desirous of death, then I would be comfortable with a one-sided exceptance coming from them. To be dead is wish for tails every single time.) As we live into our lives, we do so as the propellor of the one and the other, that is in each case its own.
To support one side of a cause, or one style of identity is to be psychologically not well.
Which brings me to my mission and a question;Question
: How much can we learn from a thing that has nothing to do with the other, but was generated at the exact moment in time?Mission
: Gather up everything dated a certain date, from as many sources as possible and use it to create a true history of that moment.
i.e, you don't know what a happened unless you know all, or at least attempt to. (I suppose this would do well to attempt to equalize world events, as in; the pope dies, a mouse dies, a hair dryer is turned on, etc.) Towards a disparate unity we march, working under the assumption that it would be scientific thought to show how 1+1=3, the proof is in the process, a thing is always also what it's not.
If a human wants to have an idea as close as possible to himself, it seems, it would be best to have an idea of everything that 'went down' so to speak, at some moment. Rather then pile events on top of one another in a cause and effect, the human should posit the conceivable all in a circle and say 'here.'
File this thought under the heading; "street lamps have thoughts too, 'cuz they do."
***Please note that as I write this I am reconstructing lines of correspondence from piles of filth into 10 feet stacks of 1960-1979 A-Z. You should try it, it burns. I am trying it, I said. Indeed.
I was pretty happy when I came across the The United States of America
entry at Wikipedia, because of its offering a "where are they now" of sorts for the band's members. It's a slit of an opening to peak through, taking notice of the tender subject of what happens to the living, and a concrete chronology on those people who in the 1960's were with the knowledge,
_Byrd went on to form Joe Byrd and the Field Hippies, who released an LP, The American Metaphysical Circus, in 1969. He presently (2004) runs a bed and breakfast in northern California near the Oregon border, and occasionally teaches musicology at a local college.
_Dorothy Moskowitz later worked with Country Joe McDonald's All-Star Band, married, has two daughters, and lives in a suburb of Oakland CA. She writes for and teaches music to children in her local school system.
_Gordon Marron became a Los Angeles studio musician and now lives in Hawaii.
_Craig Woodson teaches percussion in Los Angeles and has toured with the Kronos Quartet.
_Ed Bogas composed soundtracks for Peanuts and Garfield TV cartoon specials and for Ralph Bakshi's film Fritz the Cat.
_Rand Forbes' current whereabouts are unknown (anyone?).
I like that list, it is nice, "running a bed and breakfast, occasional musicology, giving birth, teaching, studio musicianship, Kronos Quartet, soundtracks for Garfield, and whereabouts unknown." yeah, I dig it....reality is only temporary
a process imitating things that went before
without a satisfying answer anymore
the present just repeats the future and the past...
Good to know.
I just wrote this song, it was inspired by the passing of the pope, if you like it, give me a call, The Opinion of the Catholic
Understanding the Puffery
by Judith E. FoulkeHuman placenta
is the nourishing lining of the womb (uterus), which is expelled after birth. When placental materials were first used as cosmetic ingredients in the 1940s, manufacturers promoted the products as providing beneficial hormonal effects such as stimulating tissue growth and removing wrinkles. (Although newborn infants emerge from the womb with wrinkled skin!) The hormone content and the tissue-growth and wrinkle-removing claims classified the placenta-containing products as drugs, and FDA declared them to be ineffective and therefore misbranded.
FDA's challenge caused placenta suppliers to change marketing strategies by claiming that hormones in their placenta ingredients had been extracted and were no longer in the product. They then offered placental raw materials without medical claims--only as a source of protein.
Can you get a disease from placental cosmetic ingredients? Bailey says no. Placenta used in cosmetics is washed and processed many times to destroy any harmful bacteria or viruses. Besides that, says Bailey, the cosmetic matrix (components that bind the ingredients in products) is made from a wide variety of substances, such as alcohol and preservatives, that would present a hostile environment to any viruses or bacteria the placenta might have carried.