The horror of an election continues in which they fling poo like they're in the monkey house at the zoo and it's as repetitive and boring as watching a model train looping repeatedly around a track. It will never do anything different and yet you sit there watching it. Toot, toot.
Until people stop the wars and stop the killing, there is no reason to take what say seriously and we have no reason to talk.
That whole schtick got as boring as lawn maintenance and this reflective stuff of late won't draw big bang readers but that's ok too since it's really not a purpose to draw anyone unless there's a valid reason for coming.
There's one tiny note as Soros is betting hard against the market and gold is up to $1356. I have nothing to lose but I'd be grabbing my ass right about this time if I did. That guy doesn't play billions to lose and who would, it makes no sense. Soros didn't place the bet against the Dow but it's almost doubled since the Bush days and that's got to be ringing bells also. Counting on historical patterns doesn't seem the prudent move after Rothschild said yesterday the world is in the throes of the biggest monetary experiment in history. Since experiments don't always work, do check your parachute as some guy who didn't the other day is now a deceased skydiver.
A medical update provides a bit of gore but you won't see it as the lesions from the latest cuts are about an inch or better and they were cauterized to close so they do some ugly ass healing. They do heal but you seriously don't want to watch (larfs).
There has been no word of a follow-up to the biopsies and bad medical news always comes back fast. That's always, Virginia, so you don't need to call the doctor to find out if it was bad since a long result is almost always a good sign. If it's really bad or really good, the doctor will call himself / herself so that's a scary call. It also sucks there is no valid pronoun for that sentence and how will people fix feminism when they don't fix the language which enforces sexist expression.
Comes acceptance of you really can't do that stuff anymore and this isn't working the Kübler-Ross steps or maybe these are the five steps of getting old. The animals are fed religiously as I don't eat guilt-free unless they have food and fresh water. I do that every day in part because I need to be doing anything but it doesn't get easier and instead goes the other way around. That's not a complaint but observation of a basic principle: if you don't have enough stuff to do the stuff you want then you need to do more stuff to get that way. Suddenly that doesn't work and that's kind of a gee whiz moment but it's not a tragedy, it's more like a moment to get heavy existential and avoid that if at all possible.
Music is not my only friend until the end but it's damn sure one of my best friends. I'm not sure how far pushing it goes but that's not choice, it's mandated (larfs). Maybe you get that way as a drunkie since they got so morose or at least I did. It's a large part of why I don't do it. Who the hell wants to feel like that (larfs).
When things spark with Mystery Lady, I know for sure I'm on the path of something good since she wants no truck with anything which isn't. For a quick one, there was seeing Stevie Ray Vaughn outdoors at Riverbend on a beautiful evening. It was his last tour but no-one could possibly know that and he played better than either of us had ever heard him.
There were also Concerts of the Weird as Beach Boys and Chicago were playing back to back so that has to be a total musical fiasco but it was surprisingly cool and the chick reaction, as in young ones, was remarkable. The Beach Boys were the only band of the many I've seen for whom girls were standing on their seats screaming for them. I really almost Freudian slipped that one and that would have been just ducky, wouldn't it. The girls doing all the screaming were much younger than the original fans and it was extraordinary to see it. How does this even happen.
Cat chides sometimes (i.e. often - larfs) about mainstream tastes and I'm a wee bit defensive but mostly not except in the cases of extreme crap which would fascinate me sometimes. "Crimson and Clover" is one example of that but it wasn't the song so much as wondering how they get that vibrato / delay sound in the guitars. Much later when I finally got my hands on some kit, I found it was easy but it was fascinating at the time.
The same thing happened with phase shifters and related devices which could swing the sound from one side to the other and that was fascinating for its own sake, regardless of whichever song. At first I thought it was something the radio stations could do and my brother just said pshaw at the idea without saying what did it. After some time, I got some kit and found out for myself. I still love that effect but all in good measure.
There's something to be learned from all of it although it would have been better if my tastes got more diversified earlier. My ol' Dad tried to some extent with Miriam Makeba but that was mostly because she was so charming as a human plus there was the delight of The Click Song. Later he was bringing flamenco around and I admired it tremendously for the artistry and the skill but it wasn't what I wanted to do so I didn't pursue it much further. The same was true with Ravi Shankar as I admired his skill and listened to him a lot but sitar wasn't what I wanted to do either.
All of the sibs took off in different musical directions, more or less, but he definitely gave a solid if kind of uneven foundation. It's not a father's mandate, at least as I see it, to create foundations but rather to live and the rugrats can make what they will of it. All of us did and off we went with it, wherever we would.
So there's a bit of rambling for a late Summer day in which the leaves have started falling but most of the trees are still green.
And here's a really strange squid / cephalopod / cuttlefish / cuddlefish and listen to the researchers who get as excited as kids going to Disneyland.
Until people stop the wars and stop the killing, there is no reason to take what say seriously and we have no reason to talk.
That whole schtick got as boring as lawn maintenance and this reflective stuff of late won't draw big bang readers but that's ok too since it's really not a purpose to draw anyone unless there's a valid reason for coming.
There's one tiny note as Soros is betting hard against the market and gold is up to $1356. I have nothing to lose but I'd be grabbing my ass right about this time if I did. That guy doesn't play billions to lose and who would, it makes no sense. Soros didn't place the bet against the Dow but it's almost doubled since the Bush days and that's got to be ringing bells also. Counting on historical patterns doesn't seem the prudent move after Rothschild said yesterday the world is in the throes of the biggest monetary experiment in history. Since experiments don't always work, do check your parachute as some guy who didn't the other day is now a deceased skydiver.
A medical update provides a bit of gore but you won't see it as the lesions from the latest cuts are about an inch or better and they were cauterized to close so they do some ugly ass healing. They do heal but you seriously don't want to watch (larfs).
There has been no word of a follow-up to the biopsies and bad medical news always comes back fast. That's always, Virginia, so you don't need to call the doctor to find out if it was bad since a long result is almost always a good sign. If it's really bad or really good, the doctor will call himself / herself so that's a scary call. It also sucks there is no valid pronoun for that sentence and how will people fix feminism when they don't fix the language which enforces sexist expression.
Comes acceptance of you really can't do that stuff anymore and this isn't working the Kübler-Ross steps or maybe these are the five steps of getting old. The animals are fed religiously as I don't eat guilt-free unless they have food and fresh water. I do that every day in part because I need to be doing anything but it doesn't get easier and instead goes the other way around. That's not a complaint but observation of a basic principle: if you don't have enough stuff to do the stuff you want then you need to do more stuff to get that way. Suddenly that doesn't work and that's kind of a gee whiz moment but it's not a tragedy, it's more like a moment to get heavy existential and avoid that if at all possible.
Music is not my only friend until the end but it's damn sure one of my best friends. I'm not sure how far pushing it goes but that's not choice, it's mandated (larfs). Maybe you get that way as a drunkie since they got so morose or at least I did. It's a large part of why I don't do it. Who the hell wants to feel like that (larfs).
When things spark with Mystery Lady, I know for sure I'm on the path of something good since she wants no truck with anything which isn't. For a quick one, there was seeing Stevie Ray Vaughn outdoors at Riverbend on a beautiful evening. It was his last tour but no-one could possibly know that and he played better than either of us had ever heard him.
There were also Concerts of the Weird as Beach Boys and Chicago were playing back to back so that has to be a total musical fiasco but it was surprisingly cool and the chick reaction, as in young ones, was remarkable. The Beach Boys were the only band of the many I've seen for whom girls were standing on their seats screaming for them. I really almost Freudian slipped that one and that would have been just ducky, wouldn't it. The girls doing all the screaming were much younger than the original fans and it was extraordinary to see it. How does this even happen.
Cat chides sometimes (i.e. often - larfs) about mainstream tastes and I'm a wee bit defensive but mostly not except in the cases of extreme crap which would fascinate me sometimes. "Crimson and Clover" is one example of that but it wasn't the song so much as wondering how they get that vibrato / delay sound in the guitars. Much later when I finally got my hands on some kit, I found it was easy but it was fascinating at the time.
The same thing happened with phase shifters and related devices which could swing the sound from one side to the other and that was fascinating for its own sake, regardless of whichever song. At first I thought it was something the radio stations could do and my brother just said pshaw at the idea without saying what did it. After some time, I got some kit and found out for myself. I still love that effect but all in good measure.
There's something to be learned from all of it although it would have been better if my tastes got more diversified earlier. My ol' Dad tried to some extent with Miriam Makeba but that was mostly because she was so charming as a human plus there was the delight of The Click Song. Later he was bringing flamenco around and I admired it tremendously for the artistry and the skill but it wasn't what I wanted to do so I didn't pursue it much further. The same was true with Ravi Shankar as I admired his skill and listened to him a lot but sitar wasn't what I wanted to do either.
All of the sibs took off in different musical directions, more or less, but he definitely gave a solid if kind of uneven foundation. It's not a father's mandate, at least as I see it, to create foundations but rather to live and the rugrats can make what they will of it. All of us did and off we went with it, wherever we would.
So there's a bit of rambling for a late Summer day in which the leaves have started falling but most of the trees are still green.
And here's a really strange squid / cephalopod / cuttlefish / cuddlefish and listen to the researchers who get as excited as kids going to Disneyland.
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