Today, humans landed a spacecraft on a comet. On a COMET. I am overwhelmed with how incredibly awesome this is. Naturally, the only song to play is “Dancing Song” by the amazing and delightful U.K. band, Little Comets.
Watch this.
Today, humans landed a spacecraft on a comet. On a COMET. I am overwhelmed with how incredibly awesome this is. Naturally, the only song to play is “Dancing Song” by the amazing and delightful U.K. band, Little Comets.
Watch this.
“So died these men as became Athenians. You, their survivors, must determine to have as unfaltering a resolution in the field, though you may pray that it may have a happier issue. And not contented with ideas derived only from words of the advantages which are bound up with the defense of your country, though these would furnish a valuable text to a speaker even before an audience so alive to them as the present, you must yourselves realize the power of Athens, and feed your eyes upon her from day to day, till love of her fills your hearts; and then, when all her greatness shall break upon you, you must reflect that it was by courage, sense of duty, and a keen feeling of honor in action that men were enabled to win all this, and that no personal failure in an enterprise could make them consent to deprive their country of their valor, but they laid it at her feet as the most glorious contribution that they could offer.”
– Pericles, funeral oration, 431 B.C.
Happy Veterans Day.
This heartbreakingly beautiful piece is from Schubert’s German Mass. I love the version with words, of course, but this simple instrumental version is haunting. It is my go-to for when I need to calm down and center myself.
“ABC: Always Be Cool. They need to teach at every school. ABY: Always Be You.”
Right on.
I have this sense that we all could use a collective reminder that life goes on. This short little number by Aaron Copland should help. Nothing is more of a soothing balm as a Copland harmony. This piece is from his opera, “The Tender Land,” and features the hymn, “Zion’s Walls,” which Copland arranged.
There are a lot of people who woke up this morning with a hangover after watching the midterm results last night. So, today is a good day for your friendly neighborhood anarchist punk bank, Johnny Hobo and the Freight Trains. Fare forward, voyager.
I curse this world one second. Demand it buy me a sandwich in the next. Or else I’m bummin’ a cigarette. That will help me to forget how hungry I am.
I can’t believe that bastard won this morning. It’s the kind of night for vodka and forties! And we’re mixing our drinks stiff tonight. Yeah, we’re mixing our drinks stiff tonight.
Today is the dawn of the draft. And tomorrow we’re shipped off to Iraq. Or else we’re cutting off a toe. Praying that we won’t have to go.
I can’t believe that bastard won this morning. It’s the kind of night for vodka and forties! Who’s ready for the war tonight? Who’s ready for the war tonight?
I’m running on caffeine. And nicotine and amphetamines. I hope more stimulants are on the way. Cause who doesn’t have a drug problem these days?
I can’t believe that bastard won this morning. It’s the kind of night for vodka and forties! And I’m sniffin’ those pills hard tonight! Yeah, I’m sniffin’ those pills hard tonight!
I marked my 23rd birthday while monitoring the second round of presidential elections in Boghe, Mauritania. I remember so many things about that day. I remember the delay on the satellite phone I used to call my parents during a lunch break. I remember the uneven wooden benches we sat on as we watched hundreds of people file into concrete block schoolhouses, present their I.D. cards, be handed a ballot, go behind a cloth screen, make their choice, stuff their ballot in a plastic bin, dip their finger into an ink bottle, and walk out. Person, after person, after person; men, women, and new-to-voting teenagers. I remember watching an argument between an election official and a woman who had walked twenty miles to vote but had forgotten her identification. I remember watching the vote count, late into the night. I remember being amazed at how fervently people wanted to vote. I remember wishing my country was similar. I remember Mauritanians asking me why it wasn’t.
Voting is the only thing about which I am an absolute evangelical. It is America’s strongest and most enduring characteristic and the thing that, despite everything, still compels foreigners to emigrate. It is undeniably the most patriotic act an American citizen can perform. It is why 13-year-old Erza Retta Dessie from Ethiopia wore a Captain America costume when he got sworn in as an American citizen four days ago. The greatest gift I got while I was an international election monitor was understanding the power of the ballot box. You can’t change anything without participation.
Tired of corruption? Vote. Think politicians can’t be trusted? Vote. Want your guy or woman to win? Vote? Want any kind of change? Vote. Want to affirm the reasons why your forefathers came to this country? Vote. Want to affirm the assertion that people can change a nation? Vote.
See you at the polling place. (Not sure where it is? Look it up here.)
To motivate you, and in honor of the late departed Mr. Bradlee, a titan of the field of journalism, I give you the Washington Post March.
This band is a new discovery for me, and I’m more than a little obsessed with this song. The group is from Canada and makes music that is as expansive and beautiful as the country itself. My cousin compared the banjo to the telephone poles that pin a highway to the earth. Since this song sounds like a high-speed yet solo car journey, I think he’s exactly right.
Yankette’s Reaction:
Oh, stick a fork in me. This piece might – might – be more fun to sing than listen to, but nevertheless, it’s a sucker-punch. It starts so mildly, but by the end, you’re completely wrung out. It’s a masterwork.
Shameless friend promotion! Sara is the best singer I have ever sung with, in my life, ever, and probably always will be. She also happens to be an astoundingly cool person. So listen to her singing and then put her in any and every musical production you have going. Trust me.
Sara’s Justification:
Here is Edgar Bainton’s “And I saw a new heaven.” If you’re Anglican you’ve probably heard it; if you’ve been involved in church music at all you’ve most likely sung it. I am of the opinion that most British choral music that has stood the test of time is pretty darn good, but I don’t think I’m alone in thinking that this anthem might be the best one ever. It’s written in the same lush late-romantic style as pieces by Bainton’s better-known contemporaries, like Vaughan Williams, but what I think makes this one so special is that it doesn’t draw on any of Vaughan Williams’ sensible British folksiness. There is a sense throughout the anthem – in both its dynamic and textual heights and most hushed moments – of an otherworldly ecstasy that cannot be matched in the rest of the choral repertoire from this period. Listening bliss. Enjoy!
Yankette’s Reaction:
This piece is demented. Absolutely, without question, demented. And I love it. It’s a great piece for the day after Halloween – it’s very spooky. If I ever have an abode that I want to turn into a “haunted house” for neighborhood kids, this will be one thing I play on the hi-fi. The left hand starts and you think, “Okay, a little a-tonal, but intriguing.” And then the right hand kicks in and you think “what in the name of God is that.” But you can’t stop listening! All of a sudden the pace of the hands switches! Why! Why is it switching! And then all you can do is cling to the octaves being played until that gets wiped out, and then…it stops. …What.
Chris’s Justification: