Friday Links and Therapy

Lately I’ve had the experience of putting my hands on the computer keyboard, and having no words come out. The words are in my head, but they feel almost like a lead weight, and don’t slide easily from mind to hands. While in London, I wrote a number of short stories. But as I bring them up and try to polish them for the Web, they just appear to be all wrong. I can’t quite arrange the characters, I can’t make up my mind about the plot, I wonder if they’re all that interesting. It makes it hard to finish anything, though none of the stories are ever really finished, at least not in my mind.

I don’t like a day to go by without some kind of writing—I feel like I’ve missed something at the end of the day, and I wake up feeling depressed. It’s like driving in a windstorm—you may want to go fast, but you can’t. The wind pushes you back and forth, and you struggle to retain control of your vehicle, and are exhausted by the effort by the time you finally are able to stop again. Fortunately, when I stand back and look at these episodes, I know that things are constantly shifting outside my center, and that this too will pass. Everything seems like forever in the present moment.

In any case, I wanted to share a few interesting links:

The first is a new website called TheRumpus.net. It’s absolutely brilliant, and I recommend that you add it to your feed aggregator toute suite. Created by Stephen Elliot, it provides reviews and commentary on books, art, and music that you would probably never hear about otherwise. I heard about it through the Mental Floss blog, and I’ve been hooked ever since.

The second is the SCADshorts site, which I hope gets some updates this year. There was a SCAD (Savannah College of Art and Design) short that made the blogosphere rounds last year. It was the May 2008 short featuring a girl and a large scary-looking pencil with a creepy smile. That gem of a film and its rather disturbing soundtrack got me to look at some of the other bizarre shorts being produced. The work is pretty amazing.

Lastly, I recommend looking at Karborn’s website. Karborn is an artist who also happens to be John Foxx’s son. I discovered his work via that connection, and his work is really staggering in its depth. I’ve always had a great admiration for those who can put onto canvas what I try to put into words. Art is so much more fluid than writing. Words often fall short of what can be conveyed in images, and I think his work is just amazingly deep—it stirs up something different every time I look at it.

Incidentally—I would mention in this crappy economic time that if you really support an artist or musician, you should BUY their stuff. Recently I bought John Foxx’s Cinemascope, even though I have some version of all of those songs somewhere else in my collection (though it does offer some great artwork as well). I’d heard some grumbling on the Web about why we need “another” compilation, but it’s simple economics. Musicians have bills and need money, just like everyone else, and that’s a difficult business to be in. So, show some economic support if you can.

Wordless

When I like a particular musician, I tend to immerse myself in their work for a period of time. Not only listening to music, but learning about the individual or group making the music. However, one thing I don’t tend to do is join forums. I was asked about this recently by someone, as I used to spend a lot of time in the early 2000’s on the Psychedelic Furs forum at Burned Down Days.

Enjoying the work of a particular band or individual is a bit like the religious or shamanic experience for me—I don’t really have words for it. I just have the experience. Some people are great at going into expositions about particular albums or songs or performances, but I have a hard time doing that. Sometimes I can relate the work of an artist to a particular experience—an event or a point in time, and I can say that a particular song or album reminds me of that event. Sometimes the song reminds me of an image, or series of images, or a quality (peaceful, disturbing, ecstatic, etc.).Beyond that, I only have the experience. When I’m introduced to a new song or album (new to me, anyway), there is an immediate visceral reaction—or there isn’t. Some songs do grow on you over time even if they didn’t strike you initially. And some songs infect you immediately, until you’re tired of them and have to put them down for awhile. Inevitably you will go back to them.

Back to the religious analogy—it’s often said that one shouldn’t talk too much about religious or spiritual experiences. I feel that way about music. The experience just IS what it is, I don’t really want to dissect it. The experience is crushed by too many words. My extensive participation in BDD had more to do with the people on the message board than the group itself, even though I am a Furs fan. It was more about meeting up, seeing the different (and sometimes opposite) personalities interact, and just enjoying each other’s company. When the board became more about discussing the music critically, I ended up dropping out, or at least dropping back. There was nothing wrong with anyone doing that, and it was appropriate given the forum. I just found I no longer had anything to add.

I reflect on this and find it odd in another way. I am a taxonomer by profession—Tech Services librarians are about describing and classifying. When I’m faced with a chaotic or irrational situation, I deal with it by seeking information—to do that, I have to classify it somehow, give it some kind of label, some means of sorting through it, even if that proves to be ultimately inadequate. It’s a means of regaining control at base—when we feel like we have no control of our lives, we employ tactics to protect ourselves, to feel like we have a grip again.

If I’ve learned anything through the years of spiritual experiences that I’ve had, it’s that I have little control over my life. I’m not suggesting that some external being is pulling puppet strings. Life just does not happen in a neat, orderly, planned fashion. All of the major religions talk about the idea of “surrender”. Surrender is not about giving up. It’s about recognizing that you don’t have control, and being comfortable with that. Most of us don’t surrender; however, in the moments that we do, there is an unbelievable freedom in not having to understand the what, or why, or how. It just is what it is. That is the crux of the mystical experience. The mind becomes unnecessary. The Buddhist idea of “unlearning” suddenly makes sense.

Music is like that experience. Music that is really moving is like a fountain—experiencing the piece inspires you to create, and hence more creations spring out of the same source, whether that is recognized or not. It is the same with art and literature. Hearing something, or seeing something that inspires you to create something of your own—not necessarily the same type of thing—is like an endless stream or fountain. That’s just magnificent. Too magnificent for words.

New Year's in the UK

So, I am now back from London. Given the daily visits from some of you (thanks, Google Analytics), I am guessing at least some of you are interested in knowing how it all went. So, here it goes...

First off, I do not have a daily travelogue, which is something I tend to do on trips, but was difficult on account of the fact that I had no computer while I was there. I did pop into the Internet cafes once a day, but that was just about enough time to get through messages on all of my social networks and e-mail. I did do a lot of writing on this trip, but I mostly wrote things out longhand--it's amazing how bad I've gotten at that. I am so used to just typing away; I did not bring my Macbook due to the adapter issue (there is no way my battery would have lasted 2 weeks). People tell me that I can just adapt my American plug using a converter, but I have 2 experiences of converter plugs--they either "work", or they "set the wall on fire, and your attached appliance." Given that the odds of the latter happening are rather good, I decided not to risk it.

A few general comments about London:

1. It seems smaller. The last time I spent any significant time in London was in 1993, though I have been back since that time. The whole city just doesn't seem as big. I don't know if I'm using New York as my yardstick, or maybe I'm just more used to the London streets now--but it doesn't seem like it takes very long to go from the West End to the East End on foot.

2. It doesn't have a lot of English people. I kind of knew this, but it just seemed more apparent this time around. There are people from all over the world in London, and few of them seem to be English. I heard a lot of French there this time--even from the Japanese tourists, which was kind of weird. I find it amazing that the English are branded as warm and friendly as compared to the French. Not that I have any problem with the English (my own personal space habits tend to mirror theirs, actually), but in the States they are not known for being warm and cuddly. The French are often downright rude. I was chatting with a French woman while doing my laundry out in Glastonbury, and she mentioned that the French are raised to be very competitive and individualistic, at least the Parisian French. Often they don't have any regard for you--they are competing with you. I thought that was rather interesting, and does bear out what I've observed about the French I've come in contact with overseas. Not that a sweeping generalization is fair, and I'm not making one--I just didn't meet too many French who fell outside of that way of behaving.

3. It's dirtier. Certainly the air is dirtier. I'd go back to my hotel at the end of the day, blow my nose, and there would be black, sooty stuff coming out. The underground has definitely, well, gone downhill. It's approaching New York City-subway filthy, although New York tends to be cleaning up a bit, so, maybe they're just meeting in the middle now.

By contrast, Glastonbury was a lot more open and laid back. Not much different from the last time I was there, just more expensive, and the high street is more built-up. In Glastonbury, you're more likely to strike up conversations with the locals, whereas in London it's unlikely that anyone who doesn't know you will attempt to speak to you. I met a lot of nice people in Glastonbury, hanging out in the pubs, and even just going to the shops.

So, what did I do while I was there? I visited friends and drank a lot of beer--and bought books. Yes, even on holiday, I can't stay out of the fucking bookstores. And when I'm not in the bookstores, I'm in the damn libraries. The British Library, to be exact, so not just any library. That was worth the trip, actually, since they have a lot of their national treasures on display, and nothing makes me drool like really old, valuable books. The Lindsfarne Gospels, a couple of Gutenberg Bibles, pages from Da Vinci's notebooks--and some amazing classical Hindu artwork. All in one place. Like heaven, really. The British Museum was not too shabby, either. I had never been there, and still didn't get through all of it, but it was amazing. I was partial to the Roman Britain collections, as that is something you're not likely to see too many examples of outside of the British Isles, unless there's a special exhibit.

On New Year's Eve I visited with a friend in Guildford, but ended up going back to my hotel fairly early, as I was not feeling well, and--happy new year!--I ended up with the flu and bedridden the whole next day. In a word, it was awful. I had to travel to Glastonbury the next day, so I spent the day in bed doing Reiki therapy on myself, and drinking a ton of orange juice, just to be well enough to grab the train to Bristol. Fortunately I was in much better shape by the 2nd, and being out in the country during that time was fortuitous. I stayed in a B&B overlooking the Glastonbury Abbey ruins, which was a 200% improvement over the place I stayed in London. Being able to chill out, do some writing, and chat with the locals was a good way to end the holiday. I also climbed the Tor (in spite of just getting over the flu and it being rather cold) and headed over to the Chalice Well gardens (which now costs 3.25 to get in, rather than .50, which is what it cost in 1993).

Normally the UK weather is balmier than it is here in New Jersey at this time of year, but I seem to have brought the cold weather along--it was between -5 and -10 Celsius (that's about 13 to 20 degrees Farenheit) while I was there. In Glastonbury there was also a fierce wind, which made it difficult to be out for too long. It's actually colder than that here in the States (we usually wake up to -12 Celsius on average in the winter mornings here), but I was expecting temps a little higher than that.

All in all, it was a lovely trip, but money was running low, and all good things must come to an end, so here I am again, back at home watching the cat's head move in concert with the snow flurries whizzing by outside. I still feel like I'm functioning on another planet, or maybe in another dimension, but I'm sure that feeling will subside. I did actually do quite a bit of writing on this trip, so I need to spend time making sense out of my own chicken scratch and get a few new things posted or updated.

Hope everyone had a splendid new year!

Comfort

Regardless of whether you work in a government building, a private institution, or a corporate office, all of these buildings will likely have one thing in common—a crummy HVAC system.

I am thinking about this as I sit in the library where I work. Several hours ago the Head of the Reference Department came striding around, looking at thermostats, asking if it was too hot. I went out of my office a few minutes ago to see the nighttime reference librarian wearing his coat.

In my previous job, I worked in a government building, one that was recently renovated and expanded. Before I was sucked into the black hole of administration, I was one of the union shop stewards. Almost daily I got complaints about the air quality—either it was too cold to work, or too hot to work. I spent more time filling out forms for OSHA and talking to facilities people about the HVAC system in the building. In my current job, I had to talk to our facilities staff about the HVAC for an archival grant application. Hence, I learned something about how these systems work. For the uncomfortable, here are a few things you should know:

1. Large HVAC systems have only two temperatures: f**king hot and f**king cold. There is no in-between.

2. HVAC systems are set up in “zones”, so that the temperature can be controlled in smaller areas. The main thing to remember is that the zones will never be the same temperature. So, if it is f**king hot in one zone, it will be f**king cold in the other.

3. Most people think they can raise or lower the temperature by messing with the thermostat. Most thermostats are “placebo” thermostats. They are only there to make you think you can do something about the temperature. They are not actually attached to anything that turns the heat on or off.

4. If you are too hot in the winter, or too cold in the summer, don’t EVER call facilities to complain. Facilities staff are not interested in your petty comfort concerns, and will punish you by turning off the heat in winter or the A/C in summer, and will ignore any pleas to turn it back on for weeks.

5. There is a myth that a new building means a new working HVAC system. In fact, everyone knows that the contract for the HVAC system will go to the lowest bidder in any new construction or renovation. Therefore, things like working temperature zones and humidity control are considered to be “luxuries” and struck from the installation requirements.

6. This doesn’t have to do with the HVAC per se—but it is a fact of Murphy’s law that a person who is always cold will inevitably share an office with a person who is always warm. Let the comfort wars begin.

So, bring a sweater, get a space heater or fan(if the fire marshal will let you), and try to ignore the fact that the HVAC vents are brimming with mold on account of the fact that they haven’t been cleaned in 40 years. And pray that Spring comes soon, when you might at least break even with the comfortable temperature outdoors.

Two topics: My impending "retirement", and the Found Footage Festival

The insanity that is my life right now should be winding down by the end of next week, but not before a spectacular flurry of activity. Finals are next week, I’m in a race to get a really tedious digitization RFP out before we close down for winter break, and I’m meeting no less than 3 sets of friends over the next 4 days. And fucking forget about Christmas—if it wasn’t for the incessant presence of holiday music and décor everywhere, I wouldn’t even know there was a holiday. I don’t have time for it.

In the middle of all this, next week, I am going to the VALE OLE workshop in New Brunswick for 2 days. The purpose is to help design a new integrated library system for New Jersey's academic libraries (i.e., VALE). From what participants in this week’s version of the workshop said, it pretty much sounds like a waste of my time. They want to discuss library departmental “workflows”. Give me a break. It’s true that the traditional workflow is probably different now, but that’s the wrong focus for a meeting like this. Most of our tech tasks have nothing to do with the ILS. Besides, integrated library systems, even the open source ones, aren’t structured for consortia. (Earth to programmers: policy matrices DON’T WORK for more than 3 libraries, and even that is dubious). They’re always designed with the ideal assumption that everyone will work together and agree on everything, when the reality is that any given library in the group is likely to storm the consortia office fully armed before they will submit to have the same loan period or fine structure as another library. Additionally, you have the libraries with really bizarre policies that were apparently created by a deranged person (“we lend DVDs for 1 week with a $1.00 fine, but if it’s a full moon and a Thursday we lend them for 8 and half days with a 50 cent fine rate”). And they will be indignant if the system doesn’t accommodate this. I am assured that VALE will not work this way. Just wait.

Anyway, all of that is boring, and I’m increasingly becoming a malcontent in this field, so you don’t really want to hear all of that. I am “retiring” after 7 years of teaching at Rutgers University in the MLIS program this week, the first step in getting away from Library and Information Science altogether. I had an earlier post on this blog on the future of cataloging, which was picked up by 2 major cataloging blogs—I think I have had more views on that post than any other. If you’ve read that one, I have more confirmation that cataloging as a profession is dying a slow, painful death on life support: I have heard that the Library of Congress has cut their cataloging staff nationally by some absurd number—54,000 to 4,000 is the figure I was given. I’m hoping I misheard that one, but it doesn’t look good in any case. Time will tell.

Moving on to stranger things—last week I got my copies of the Found Footage Festival DVDs. Currently there are 3 volumes, with a new volume due out after next summer’s show. Found Footage Festival was created by Joe Pickett and Nick Prueher, two guys from Wisconsin who are now in New York. They collect old VHS tapes from estate sales, old warehouses, garage sales, etc., and then put what they consider to be the “best” of this junk together for a live show.

Some of the items featured on these DVDs—a McDonald’s custodian training video, a video by Corey Haim attempting to show everyone how he was “clean” after rehab (it was more of a case for putting him back in, actually), 2 religious “showdowns” comparing the truly fucked-up styles of two sets of television preachers, Jack Rebney (world’s angriest RV salesman), How to Seduce Women Through Hypnosis (an attempt to legitimize rape for the truly pathetic male, though the woman in this is pretty dim as well), and a variety of public access television shows and godawful music videos.

Besides the hypnosis thing, the most disturbing videos on these collections were the “Potpourri” on Volume 1 (Joe and Nick actually apologize to the audience before and after showing it), and “Disrobics” on Volume 3 (enough said about that). Nonetheless, if you like or are at least curious about the bizarre and trashy underbelly of American culture, these are amazingly funny to watch. On the downside, you will probably have the songs of Jan Terri or Harvey Sid Fisher stuck in your head. Not to mention the images from the videos that go with their songs.

Overall, these were a worthy purchase. I stayed with my friend’s teenage son and daughter last week, and showed them the DVDs. Mind you, these kids are good at locating the most bizarre videos on YouTube (I get at least 1 to my e-mail every week from one of them). They both laughed so hard that they almost couldn’t breathe. And of course, my friend Liz and her fiancé are “Found Footage groupies” by their own admission. They are looking forward to next summer’s new show, and I will probably go with them.

2 from The Onion

I haven't posted anything from the Onion in awhile, so here are two recent articles:

Long-standing Conflict Ends as Israel Returns Lawn Mower to Palestine


Area Man Holding Out Until Next Exit For Better Fast Food Options

Shani

The Thanksgiving holiday is just about over. I have been off since Wednesday, and even though I've had plenty to do, it's been a surreal few days. It goes without saying that the Christmas season is now upon us. I have barely given it a thought. I am not having a Christmas tree this year, nor am I getting involved with the usual level of hoopla, because I am going to London soon after Christmas. No sense putting up a Christmas tree and leaving my cats with a large and dangerous cat toy while I'm away.

My London plans may be changing--I'm not certain yet, but I may end up shortening my stay due to some uncertain circumstances. That's been the surreal part of this week--lots of uncertain circumstances. Everyone I talk to has been having surprises, and not good ones. I look at possibly changing my London plans as the lower end of the surprise scale--I have many friends and acquaintances right now that are dealing with much more serious uncertainties. Even when I stopped off at one of my usual breakfast haunts in Hackettstown, the waitress I know there told me that her husband was fired from his job that week--and told he could reapply if he wanted to in the Spring. Of course, this means no health benefits for her or her husband all Winter long, and if he does get re-hired, it will probably be at minimum wage; he was at the top of his pay scale for his job. There is a lot of this kind of thing going on. At the moment, I am grateful to be employed and to have a house. It's not going to be a great Christmas for a lot of people, and while this does happen to people every year, it does make things a bit sadder (Christmas or not) because these people are my friends. Certainly it's a sobering reminder that life can change at any moment.

I picked up a friend from the airport today, and we were discussing the recent attacks on Americans and British citizens in Mumbai. A mutual friend of ours from Orissa had friends staying in the hotel. The mutual friend had received a text message from that friend, saying she was hiding under the bed, and that "they were coming." They lost contact with her after that, and suspect she is now dead. The growing amount of Islamic fundamentalist attacks is frightening for many reasons. Fundamentalism in any of the religions is a reaction against modernity. While there have been a few cases of Hindu fundamentalism, it is really a monotheistic phenomenon, at least as it is appearing in the world today. We tend to hear about Christian fundamentalism and Islamic fundamentalism in particular. Both types of fundamentalism have a number of things in common. One is that they believe modernity is bad (though many are not opposed to the use of technology like television and the Internet). Another is that they believe there is one strict interpretation of "God's law", and that God has a specific plan that humanity must follow, and of course they know what it is. Christian fundamentalists derive their document from a literalist interpretation of the Bible (known as Biblical inerrancy). Islamic fundamentalists are working with a strict interpretation of the Qur'an and the Shar'ia law. In both cases, there is a good vs. evil dualism--either you are on God's side (i.e., you accept their worldview), or you are not. If you are not, you are in league with "Satan", and they have the right to try to force you into the right way of believing. For some of them, that means the right to kill you. Islamic fundamentalists hate modern Western countries, because they see their pluralistic influence as being directly opposed to the law of God.

Monotheistic fundamentalism is a dangerous thing. Since there is only one God, and one "right way" for those types of believers, there is no ground for conversation. Globalization has put us in a unique position--on the one hand, secularism puts religion aside, or at least into its own category. It's not the primary social mover with regard to education, law, or politics. Fundamentalists believe that religion should be central--in particular, their interpretation of religion. No one has successfully figured out how to marry these two entirely different worldviews. In fact, looking at it, it just seems well nigh impossible. Adherents of both views frequently live side by side in today's world. The results are not pretty.

This topic will be the discussion of my lecture this week at university, and reminds me of a topic I discussed a couple of weeks ago: theodicy. Theodicy has to do with "the problem of evil", which includes the issue of human suffering. Going back to monotheistic dualisms (paradoxical, I know), we discussed the idea of "Satan". Technically, Satan is not a being, it is a role. In the Bible, "satan" or "shaitan" (Hebrew letters Shin, Teth, Nun) was the role played by an angel that obstructed a human. The Greek equivalent term is "diabolos", the root of the word "Devil", which means "to throw an obstruction in one's path". While we think of obstructions as causing us suffering, that is not necessarily the case. I think of the stories of friends who were stuck in traffic behind a car accident, missed their train, and consequently their job interview or other business in the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. Certainly these people were grateful by the end of the day to have been obstructed.

I could not help but to notice the similarity between the Hebrew word "Satan" and the word "Saturn". I don't know if they are etymologically similar (the Greek equivalent of Saturn is Kronos, or "time"; the Sanskrit equivalent is "Shani") but they are similar in meaning if you look at both Eastern and Western astrology. The role of Saturn is that of taskmaster--it limits us when we try to move ahead, according to that view. The Vedic astrologer that I visit once a year lamented recently that my mother is in "Shani dasha", or a very long phase of life ruled by Saturn, and consequently full of suffering and limitations. And yet Shani is not viewed as "evil"--Shani is supposed to disabuse you of any illusions you have about life or your identity. It fosters discipline, and keeps us from being lazy and selfish. Similar to "satan", "Shani" is not a being--it is a description of a particular state of things. Even with Hindus performing Shani puja, they are not worshipping Saturn--they are seeking to understand the "Shani" qualities in themselves and their lives.

Whatever you may believe, it is certainly a fact that suffering occurs in life. Like a lot of things, it seems to be cyclical--there are periods of expansiveness, and periods of restriction. I can only hope that those who have been hit by the latest string of sufferings will come through relatively unscathed, perhaps in a better position than they were before.

Things That Don't Go Together

Only 5 more weeks until I head back to London! I can hardly wait. I'll be there for almost 2 weeks instead of 4 days. I'm sure time will fly, too, as I still have a lot to accomplish between now and then. If anyone in London who reads this wants to catch up with me while I'm there, you can e-mail me at sororbrigid@yahoo.com. I probably won't be back in London until at least May after that, unless something big comes up (defined as: something for which I want to drop everything and high-tail it across the pond). I know there are no UK John Foxx shows coming up in 2009--in fact, I believe he's coming here to tour with Vincent Gallo, so I'll be hanging around the States for that event...

Which brings me to the topic of this post: things that don't go together, and other odd things I've observed over the last month.

First:

The Unexpected

Since I mentioned the John Foxx/Vincent Gallo match-up already, I'll talk about that first. When John asked me if I'd heard of Vincent Gallo, my dim, fuzzy mind at that point recalled the name, maybe something about him being an actor, did not recall him as a musician. So, after the show, a friend pointed me to Vincent Gallo's MySpace, where you can hear some of his music:

Vincent Gallo's MySpace Page

Regardless of what you may think of Gallo's musical offerings (and I realize that what he has on his page is a different project from what he's doing with John), you do have to admit that Gallo and Foxx are a highly--UNEXPECTED combination. Especially if you consider that they are recording an acoustic album together. One of the wonderful things about John Foxx is that he defies categorization--when I'm asked what his music is like, it's hard to pin down. I consider that one of the hallmarks of originality. With regards to this project--I must say that I am anxious to see the fruits of that creative collaboration. I can't even imagine what that's going to be like, and I'm curious as hell.

The same friend sent me another Vincent Gallo link:

Vincent Gallo Merchandise--Personal Services

It's funny how he posts this in such a way that you are not sure if he's kidding or not. Nonetheless, it occurred to me that any woman looking to get his sperm at a discount could hire him for escort services, and get him drunk enough to get knocked up that way. I'm not suggesting I have any interest in this--it just seems to be a glaring pricing loophole.

Another entry in the unexpected category came from the Religion news service this morning:

Michael Jackson Converts to Islam

I feel sorry for the Muslims. They get enough bad press. You have to wonder what the sheiks were thinking during his conversion ceremony.

A bit lower on the intellectual scale, we have this (with thanks to Nothing To Do With Arbroath):

Three-Quarters of Brits Unable to Name Great Britain's Three Countries

This is only unexpected because there seems to be this assumption that Brits are smarter than Americans. I'm not sure where this conception comes from, because frankly, people are stupid everywhere. Perhaps it is because Britain is older, and they have the benefit of the European community right in their back yard. But that rides on the erroneous assumption that people will take advantage of cultural and educational opportunities if they are right in front of them.

What's interesting about this article is how similar it is to the "American's can't identify their States on a map" articles. While there is no excuse for that either, you could argue that Americans have 50 states to identify, whereas the United Kingdom is only made up of 3 countries (sort of 4, if you count Northern Ireland). I am reminded of a the time I was at the University of Reading (UK, not Pennsylvania), and talking with a young man--mind you, he was doing his course in American Studies--who, when the American Independence Day was mentioned in conversation, wanted to know who Americans won their independence from. (And yes, he left a dangling preposition at the end of the sentence). None of this really proves anything about collective intelligence--but I don't want to go down the road of what I think about education these days in general, so...

Moving on to:

The Twisted

Another Arbroath link:

Breaking Bad News With Baby Animals

I have an aversion to the overly-cutesy and gushingly precious, especially when it comes to greeting cards, so I loved this when I saw it. On another tangent to this, there is the Cute Fuzzy Animals As Evil genre. A good example of this is Happy Kitty Bunny Pony, a graphical book with all kinds of cute kitties, doggies, etc.--and the author points out that all they really want to do is eat you or trample you to death painfully.

That's all I have for now--for those of you following bbfiction, I have about 4 things posted (7 posts total), and I'm working on 2 others right now, one will probably be posted by next week, the other is part of a larger story compilation I'm working on called Dasa Mahavidyas, so I may not post that one. I'm trying to disengage myself from a tangled plotline for the former story, hence the delay. I used to complain of writer's block, now I can't seem to stop writing. I could have worse problems...

Patterns

No less than 3 friends called or e-mailed this week to tell me about various difficulties besieging them. Other friends had similar issues, that I’d heard about through the grapevine. What is unusual is not the fact that they have difficulties—everyone does at one time or another. The interesting part is how similar things happen in “clumps”. In short, there appears to be a pattern.

I’m an observer by nature, and I can’t help but wonder what these patterns mean, if anything. There are more general patterns that are harder to pin down—the sense that things are being shaken up, or the sense that things are stuck and slowing down, in a more “global” sense. Other patterns are more specific—they may be events and other “symbols” tied together. For instance—I was out with a friend over the weekend, and while chatting over lunch, we noticed that a drinking glass she received was perfectly cracked in the middle, but did not break or leak. In the course of 24 hours, I learned from several friends about cracked relationships, cracked-up cars, and emotional crack-ups at work. No one was completely broken from any of these things, but everyone was “cracked” in some fashion.

Perhaps this is the way my mind organizes experiences in an attempt to find meaning in them. I have the belief that people and experiences are connected in some unconscious way that we will never fully understand, but that we may be able to find meaningful patterns if we look for them.

On the other hand—sometimes the point of the pattern is to show us that there is no pattern, or may as well not be one. My guru’s visits to New York from India are a good example of this. It’s almost guaranteed that no matter what is planned for the day, it will be completely screwed up by the time I leave. And yet, everything still happens at these times that needs to happen. Amma did say once, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.” As humans, we would like to find order in uncertainty, so we are great believers in causality. While you can generally find logical causes for things, sometimes you just can’t analyze and evaluate experiences in that way, so you just accept it. It lies somewhere between faith and reason—or maybe outside of both. In the end, I’ve learned it’s better to observe the pattern, and not to discount it, but not to place too much meaning on it, either.

Myth

Recently I had a discussion with my Religion students about the concept of a myth. Myths are metaphors for intangible, un-expressible experiences that impact us profoundly. In preparing these discussions, I considered the late, great Joseph Campbell’s views on myth. In one of his discussions with Bill Moyers, Campbell states that modern society does not have myths—the only mythmakers are artists, which includes musicians, poets, filmmakers, and others who work with metaphorical images. He proposes that things change too rapidly in this day and age for society to create new myths.

I was thinking about this the other day, and it occurs to me that myths are actually everywhere, though they are less socially organized and more individualized. We succeed or fail in life with respect to our myths. A myth could have to do with the profound mystery of existence, or it could be as mundane as believing that one has to focus on something practical like business or finance to succeed in life. Unconsciously, we stick to the script of the myth. This can help us through troubled times, and it can also wreak havoc, especially when we assume that our myths are the same as everyone else’s. There may be similarities, but we all have our own spin on the story.

Cultures that still have shamans as part of their religion see the shaman as the interpreter of their social myths. After all, the shaman has seen the Mystery firsthand. It also follows that the magic of the magician is nothing more than a rewriting of the script. You identify the story that you’re telling yourself, and then you change it. Artists of all types are like shamans, because they are expressing and reinterpreting myths all the time through images; they do so because they have touched on the Mystery. This is also the key to psychotherapy; the therapist helps you identify your myths, to see what lies you might be telling yourself that keep you from progressing in your life.

This is not to say that myths are lies; they are only lies inasmuch as what we perceive and interpret as reality has an illusory quality. This is also not to say that we have total control over everything. I spoke to a Muslim man once who expressed it best—if I raise one leg, I cannot also raise the other leg at the same time without falling down. We have inherent limitations. At the same time, we have more control than we often believe that we do. Probably 80% of what we tell ourselves is bullshit. The idea of using “affirmations” to change our thinking is based on the idea that we can change our stories. The problem with affirmations is that we never believe them. They are too weak to effect any real change.

Matthew Arnold wrote an essay called “Hellenism vs. Hebraism” in which he talks about the conundrum of the Victorians and the disintegration of their cultural myths. In essence, he points out that society will force its myths on you if you don’t create your own. In order to effect real change, people have to be aware of the stories they’re telling themselves—and how seriously they take those stories. In the end, they’re just stories—they’re theories and interpretations of life. If you take them too seriously, you risk being totally shattered if something comes along to challenge that story.

When I was first married to my now ex-husband, he was very into the works of Carlos Catstaneda. He firmly believed that Don Juan (the shaman in these stories) was pointing out that the day to day world we live in was unreal, and that the reality we should be focusing on is entirely hidden. He would use this as a justification for avoiding things like getting a job, or any of the mundane realities of shared living. I was fortunate enough to find and buy for him the one book he’d missed in Castaneda’s series, “The Power of Silence.” He sat home and read it cover to cover, and it totally shattered him. In that book, Don Juan tells Carlos that this “other reality” was no more real than the one he came from.

Those challenges are always good ones—if we’ve gotten ourselves on the wrong track by taking the story too seriously, it needs to be torn apart. Truth is sometimes painful. But that is how we tear down, reinvent, or re-establish our myths. In short, that is how we grow as human beings.

New fiction blog at Wordpress

Today I have rolled out a new blog featuring my short fictional works:

http://bbfiction.wordpress.com

As many of you know, I have been writing for a number of years. My hellish work schedule has made it difficult to keep up, but I keep plugging along. Check out the blog, and be sure to read the introduction before delving into the first story.

I will continue to maintain this blog for my other random ramblings. Eventually I may migrate this blog to Wordpress, but the thought of more XML exports just makes me nauseated, so I'll put that off for awhile.

I hope you enjoy the new blog as much as this one (assuming that you do read this because you like to, not because you're doing penance), and your thoughts are always welcome.

What's in a Name

There has been much talk about names, particularly the changing of names, among my friends this past week. I have personally changed names just enough times that people from my past look at my name and say, "Who"? I don't look enough like I did when I was a child for people to make the connection. I consider this a blessing.

Recently one of my blog postings about my profession was picked up by another library blog. I was a bit amused to see myself referred to as "Ms. Nischala", as I use the name "Brigid Nischala" on this blog. Similarly, when I co-wrote an article for Weird NJ with editor Mark Sceurman, he billed me as "Brigid Nischala Burke."

Only my Hindu friends ever call me "Nischala", as it is the Sanskrit name given to me by Sri Mata Amritanandamayi Devi. It's not part of my legal name, but I use it after all the trouble she took to give it to me. Like most things in my life, there is a story attached to the name. Since I've had a number of friends ask me about the story, I'll relay it for you here.

I met Mata Amritanandamayi (or Amma, as she is often called) in New York City in 2002. My friend and former colleague Sulekha had been pressuring me to see Amma when she arrived on her summer tour. As a religion postgrad who spent a lot of time studying new religious movements, I'm pretty skeptical of claims to holiness or guru status. However, some of my own personal experiences made me curious enough about Amma to at least see what she was about. She had the marks of a genuine guru, particularly humility and charity. She usually brushes off any claims to greatness, and in spite of what news reports say, she does not own a single thing except the clothes on her back. By all appearances at least, she had potential.

So, with this and other things in mind, I went to meet her, and was more than impressed. I'm not going to delve into my experiences with her here, but it should suffice to say that I have no doubts about her credibility. I received a mantra from her that November in Michigan, and during her tour the following July, I asked her for a name.

The naming process is something that Westerners usually go through, as most Indian devotees already go through their own traditional naming process. The name is supposed to reflect the greatest potential divine quality seen in the person by the guru. It doesn't mean the person always acts according to the quality of the name, but they will have the most success if they develop that quality.

Amma never seems to handle the naming process the same way with each person. For some devotees, she just looks at them and a name immediately comes to her lips; for others, a book is consulted. After asking her for a name, I went to talk to the person in charge of the "naming" line--if you've ever been to one of these programs, you know it can be utter chaos with lines everywhere. Whether or not there is a naming line depends on whether or not Amma intends to give names that day. As it turned out, I was one of 5 people allowed to be on the naming line.

I waited almost 3 hours before Amma started giving names. There was one woman in front of me. Two brahmacharis behind Amma opened a book of Sanskrit names to a particular page, and held the book out to her. Amma was still receiving those who came for her darshan. She glanced over her shoulder, looked at the woman, and pointed to a name in the book. The brahmacharis then wrote the name on a slip of paper. A few minutes later, Amma took the slip of paper and held it to her ajna chakra ("third eye"), and handed it back without looking at the woman. One of the brahmacharis then gave the woman the slip of paper, told her what the name was, and what it meant. Then it was my turn.

Once again, the brahmacharis opened the book, and held it to Amma. She glanced at the book, and then at me. "No, no, no!" she exclaimed, pushing the book away. She then turned to the brahmacharis and started talking very fast in Malayalam, counting something off on her fingers, and pointing at me. She then smiled at me, and went back to giving her darshan. The two men were now frantically turning the pages of the book, and wrote down at least 5 different names on slips of paper. They held the slips out to Amma, who waited a good 20 minutes before she would look at them. In between "darshans", she would look at me, smile, and stroke my face.

Finally she glanced at the papers, and said, more softly this time, "No, no"--and then began to explain something to them again. Towards the end of her explanation, she started to say "Nischala, Nischala, Nischala", and pointing at me very directly. She saw me looking at her, smiled broadly, put her hands on my face, and said, "Nischala!" So, the brahmacharis wrote down the name. One of them said, "Nischala--it means--not moving."

So, I left with this name, not before I spoke to Upasana, the devotee who was running the naming line. "What was THAT about?" she asked me. She then explained that Amma was not satisfied with the names presented to her--the name had to have certain qualities, and she came up with Nischala on her own.

After talking to other Hindu friends much better versed in Sanskrit names than myself, I found out that Nischala means "stillness" (literally not moving--the opposite of chanchala, which is restlessness). It's one of the 1,000 names of the goddess Kali. It appears to be a good fit for a name, as I function best when I remain still and not get caught up in the pressures of life. That doesn't mean that I avoid life, but rather than getting dizzy on the wheel of ups and downs, I prefer to watch movement from the center. When I don't do this, I have trouble.

I've been restless all day today, so perhaps I should take a page from my own book here...

John Foxx and Louis Gordon at Cargo, 10/16/08 (Yes, I really made it...)

Well, I’m finally back from London after a trip that was too short. As I mentioned in my earlier posting, I really wanted to go to the John Foxx/Louis Gordon show in London. I finally just took the plunge and went, in spite of having to re-arrange my life for that week (not an easy feat this semester). It was well worth it.
Cargo is a very small venue, just the size I like for a show, actually. They started letting people in for the show around 8:00, and there was a VJ set for the first hour that was pretty intense, though the video loop starting to get tiring after about the 10th time. John and Louis finally came on a little after 9:00, and they were absolutely spectacular. The setlist follows:
Walk This Way
A Million Cars
Dislocation
The Man Who Dies Every Day
Camera
Uptown/Downtown
Underpass
No-one Driving
Burning Car
Shadow Man

The Garden
Travel
Broken Furniture
Young Savage
My Sex
Endlessly
Shifting City

I had grabbed quite a few pictures at this show, which I’ve posted to Flickr. John is a really amazing performer. While the whole show was brilliant, there were a few things that stood out—“Underpass”, “The Garden”, “Burning Car”. I was thrilled that he did 2 Ultravox tunes, “Young Savage” and “My Sex”; the former had a few mistakes, but it didn’t really take away from the song. The only annoying part of the show was one video loop of this woman wearing what looked like a feather boa spreading her arms behind her—my friend Sherri had commented on that as well. It was too repetitive. The rest of the video was fine without that particular film loop.

After the show I had the pleasure of meeting and chatting with John. Sherri said it was for about 20 minutes. I didn’t notice how much time had elapsed, as I think I was mostly delirious from little food and sleep at that point. I certainly looked tired in the pictures! But I did learn from John that he is working on an album with Vincent Gallo (!?) in New York, and should be doing a few gigs in New York, Boston, and Detroit, though he wasn’t sure when. I am definitely looking forward to that!
Overall, I met a lot of really cool people, finally hooked up with Ms. Sherri after chatting with her online forever, and had a great time at the show. 4 days in London went way too fast, and I can’t believe I went to work today. But not to worry, back to London again in about 9 weeks...

New York City, Open Spaces, and EATB at RCMH

I'm home today, on a day that can be accurately described as "blustery". I expect to see Piglet fly by at any moment.

I've been thinking about going for a walk all day, but I haven't wanted to drive anywhere. It's silly, really--I live in the country. All I have to do is walk outside to experience the Fall weather. Lots of New Yorkers drive to where I live to experience Autumn In The Country. Which can make things less enjoyable for those of us who live here, but tourism keeps taxes down, so we put up with it.

This morning I woke up in New York City. I went to see Echo & the Bunnymen at Radio City Music Hall last night. Given previous concert experiences, I decided it was better if I did not try to run frantically to the last train to New Jersey at 12:30, and got a hotel room just off Times Square instead. It turned out to be a blessing.

First, let me tell you about the show. It was absolutely magnificent. The stage set was beautiful, they had images from the Bunnymen's early years projected on two screens to the left and right of stage, and the band sounded amazing. Unfortunately, I was ill through most of the show. I was out drinking at the pre-show meetup with some other Bunnymen fans, and then my friend Chris and I wandered off to another bar before going to the show. The place we ended up going to was a bit more upscale, and they mostly served wine and hard liquor. I drink red wine all the time, but certain varieties really screw up my head. Unfortunately, I ended up drinking one of those varieties of wine, and felt horribly sick through the show. I ended up leaving during the Ocean Rain set--I thought I was going to pass out. I was very glad to not be getting on a train--and then driving home for 40 minutes.

The show had 2 parts--the first part of the show was a mixture of their more well-known tunes, the second half of the show was the entire Ocean Rain album, complete with live orchestra. I read some complaints about the sound on the forum, but it sounded incredible to me--Ian McCulloch's voice was flawless, and Will Seargent was playing in top form. The drums were amazing as well. Here is the setlist for the first half:

Lips Like Sugar
Rescue
Bring on the Dancing Horses
I Think I Need It Too
The Disease
All That Jazz
Back of Love
All My Colours
People are Strange
Nothing Lasts Forever/Walk On the Wild Side/In The Midnight Hour
The Cutter

So, I woke up in a hotel on 51st Street this morning. As I was leaving for the subway, I was struck by how quiet New York is at 7:00 in the morning, and how the streets are relatively empty. Times Square is a veritable zoo during the day, and more so at night--now there were only a few people here and there. The wind was blowing, and it occurred to me that New Yorkers have a wonderful Autumn all their own. The subway station was nearly empty, save 2 or 3 other people, and even Penn Station, which is almost always busy, was very quiet in its busy-ness.

New York is not for the claustrophobic. I've been to many big cities, and there is nothing anywhere like the densely populated spaces of New York. I am reminded of a J.G. Ballard short story that I read once--I think it was called "The Concentration City". The main character goes to the far reaches of the vast city to see if there is free space to test a flying machine. Even reading the story makes me claustrophobic--the idea that all space is occupied in all directions and has to be paid for. I love New York City, but I couldn't live there on account of that lack of space. I am physically exhausted by the time I come home. However, my experience walking around in an emptier city this morning made me realize that there IS space in New York City, if you know when to look for it. It's ironic in a way (see my earlier post on "quiet spaces")--I can find quiet space in New York City, but not in the country.

Riding home on the train this morning, I was looking at the portion of the Meadowlands that the train passes through en route to Newark Broad Street. I know way more about the Meadowlands than I want to, as my current funded digital project revolves around digitizing materials related to the history of the area and the commissions designed to keep it as a protected estuary. Looking at the herons sitting on top of wood and other debris in the water, I couldn't help but notice that nature in an urban area always manages to look polluted. The masses of green algae would not look out of place on a pond near my house, but it looks like a polluted mess in the industrial wastelands of East Jersey. I'm continually amazed at how different East and West (and South) Jersey are from each other.

Only 2 more weeks til I go to London. And I will NOT be drinking red wine before the John Foxx show.

John Foxx/Louis Gordon at Cargo in London: Update

OK--I've been home resting today, as I've been exhausted. I checked my MySpace bulletins. From John Foxx's page, there was an update about John's recent Japan show, and the upcoming London and Venice shows. As it turns out, both The Garden and Young Savage are on the setlist. I would give my right tit to hear John perform Young Savage live. (Sorry to be graphic, it's just a fact).

So, I have plowed a hole in my schedule for that week by postponing my midterm, and I'm going to the London Cargo show. I am still dazed--as though I will wake up tomorrow and realize it was a dream, I didn't spend $700 on a plane ticket, but I somehow don't care. In case you were wondering--yes, I have my show ticket as well. The Intertubes are just grand.

Devilish things

It's Saturday morning. I was awakened by a large black cat doing this. It is so cold in my house--I finally broke down and turned on the heat. I hate doing that before October, but this morning was ridiculous. Now that things are warming up and Shiva is sufficiently baffled by the sound of hot water moving through the baseboards, I feel like I can sit down and write.

I've gotten two invites on Facebook to the John Foxx and Louis Gordon show in London, and it just makes me more bummed that I can't go. The music is great, the shows are supposed to be amazing, they're selling limited edition CDs, and John is gorgeous, so I feel like I'm missing a lot. Continental is offering seriously cheap fares to London during October, and I have been really tempted to blow off teaching classes and to stay with Sherri for the weekend to see the show. Alas, he is playing on October 16, which is midterms week. If I bail on that, I'm in trouble. This isn't the first time I've been faced with such a dilemma, and it's times like this that I hate my tendency to be a responsible adult. However, if you are reading this and in the UK, you might want to go; the info is here. Write and tell me about it if you do. If it's really awesome, don't rub it in.

Last night I went out with Liz again, for her birthday. After dinner we watched a 70s horror flick she'd gotten through her Netflix queue called "The Brotherhood of Satan". We agree on our assessment of the film: "What the hell was that ABOUT, anyway?" Like most ill-made horror movies from the 60s and 70s, there's a lot of bad acting, poor uses of tempera paint ("is that supposed to be blood?") and an extremely disjointed plot. In some perverse way, that's what makes these movies appealing; you already know they're going to be bad, but somehow the incredulity that anyone would commit something like it to tape makes you want to watch it. There's a reason why shows like MST3K were so popular. In any event, what I took away from the movie was that apparently all children in small towns between the ages of 6 and 9 are evil. This seems to fit in with the tacky horror movie milieu, and the theory probably carries weight with primary school teachers. There is a website of bad album cover art called Show and Tell Music that features a creepy children's Bible album cover on its home page. Those children are definitely evil.

Show and Tell Music has all kinds of bad album art, but I'm always intrigued by the Christian records. To say that I am not a fan of proselytization is an understatement, but the same perversity that makes me want to watch bad movies also makes me curious about these rather absurd attempts to evangelize. They make Tammy Faye Baker look sophisticated. After looking at them and hearing some of the sound clips, I am convinced that if there are real Satanists, they must be making this albums. No self-respecting Christian who wants to convert people would make albums like these. They either talk about Jesus in a way that sounds creepy and disturbing, or they try to scare the shit out of kids (and adults) with eschatalogical warnings and visions of hell. My favorite one is "Pip Pip the Naughty Chicken", a story written for children by a Seventh Day Adventist. It talks about Pip PIp, a little chicken who wouldn't obey, so he ends up rotting in hell with Satan and all his minions. As the owner of Show and Tell Music put it: "It's cute." I no longer wonder why kids exposed to this type of Christianity have a tendency to become serial killers.

Speaking of evil things, I came across an article in my RSS feeds regarding a black fox that was sighted in a graveyard near Chorley in Lancashire. Black foxes are mentioned in Gaelic folklore, but apparently no one has ever seen one in Britain, at least until now. Like black cats and dogs, they are associated with the devil. Personally, I think the opposite--black creatures are good luck. I have 2 black cats, and I've seen no ill effects on my life (other than one of them peeing outside the litter box). We have a number of Indian students who work with us at the university library that I work at full-time. When they look at my Facebook page and see my black cats, they always ask me how I can live with black cats. Since they are believers in jyotish, I pointed out that black creatures are very auspicious for Shani or Kethu dasha. Plus, they make great "basement cat" pictures. Here is the latest one of those.

1.3 Billion Dollar Poem

National Endowment for the Arts Funds Construction of $1.3 Billion Poem (The Onion)

This may be the funniest thing I've seen yet from the Onion. Or maybe it's just because English Lit was one of my majors...

Saturday During a Tropical Storm

It's Saturday, and I'm at home while Tropical Storm Hanna is unleashing a ton of rain outside. Frankly, it's no worse than the average thunderstorm, at least not here. And as for the tropical storm wind warnings--I get bigger gales from my ceiling fan. I actually wish there WAS more wind--it would look cooler.

So, while I'm avoiding housework and 2 restless cats, I've been listening to more of John Foxx (mentioned in my earlier Ultravox post). I've been checking out more of his solo work, from "Metamatic" in 1980 to "Tiny Colour Movies" in 2006. Much of what I've heard is pretty sublime, and at the same time, very emotionally distant. I'm particularly liking it, because it goes along so well with some of the fiction I've been writing these days. In any case, I stand by my thought that John Foxx is seriously underrated; obviously he has a core of fans, but why he isn't more well-known as an artist is an absurdity to me. Then again--it seems like the best authors, musicians, and artists remain on the fringes, while a lot of trash ends up selling big (particularly true of music AND books). I don't know what this says about humankind, but it can't be good.

Speaking of absurdities--at work I've been working through cataloging a number of curriculum guides for our university's teacher education program. Maybe I'm out of the loop, but I was totally amazed to see that there are curriculum guides in science, math, social studies, and reading for kindergartners. These kids are 5 YEARS OLD. From what I've been told, this has been practice for quite some time now. The curricula get more and more difficult, classes are more and more structured--even their free time is overly structured. Who the hell ever heard of a "play date"? I hear that phrase often from my friends who are parents, and it makes me cringe. My Mom, who is one of the most paranoid individuals I know, would just turn us loose and tell us to be home by suppertime. We NEVER had schoolwork over the summer, not until high school--and that was just summer reading.

If you think all of this makes our kids smarter or more educated, you're wrong. I routinely deal with undergraduates who can barely put a sentence together. Scholarly research is pretty much non-existent (sorry, the first page of Google hits on your keyword search is not research). Most of them would not pick up a book to read for leisure if their life depended on it. My graduate students are a little better, but as I mentioned in another post, the worst offenders seem to be elementary and high school teachers. It scares me that these people do not have basic language skills.

My friend Liz (who used to teach elementary school kids until she became burned out) theorizes that most kids are burned out by the 6th grade. This is probably true. There seems to be little regard for leisure, spontaneity, or creativity in the education system (or kids' lives in general) today. Whatever happened to unstructured play? How do kids express themselves? I'm not encouraged by the kind of adults they seem to become. D.W. Winnicott is probably rolling over in his grave.

There is the whole issue of "protection" in the same way that the U.S. Patriot Act is an expression of "protection"--imposing limits in the name of safety and security. I don't buy either one. I'm sure there are some cases where kids need to be sheltered a bit more. But when I'm told that things "are worse now" than they were before--nope, don't buy it. We just hear about more things now than we did before.

I don't know what the consequences of building a nation of adults who are barely literate and can't fend for themselves will be, but I also imagine that it can't be good.

Ah well. I continue to marvel at the absurdity of humans. Creation science museums, Westboro Baptist Church, George W. Bush, the fact that the Eagles even exist as a band...the list could go on.

It appears that Shiva is shredding my paperwork upstairs. Enough speculation, back to reality...

Evolutionists Flock to Darwin-Shaped Wall Stain (The Onion)

I saw this today. Apparently the Onion doesn't provide content-embedding code anymore, so here's the link:

Evolutionists flock to Darwin-shaped wall stain

I wonder how they manage to come up with this stuff... :)

Ultravox

Thanks to Liz, I now have a new musical mini-obssession--Ultravox.

A little background here--I was a teen in the 80s. I heard Ultravox then, and I despised them. I despise Midge Ure. OK--maybe that's not fair--I'm sure Midge Ure is a decent guy. And I liked that other project of his, Visage. But I despise the Midge-Ure- influenced Ultravox. On the sliding scale of "songs that make me want to run screaming from whatever public place I'm in" (1 being a mildly annoying song, 10 being Hotel California), Ultravox's "Dancing with Tears in My Eyes" is right up there at number 10.
I have never been a fan, and always ignored them.

Then Liz and I went to dinner the other night, and as always, she's keeping me up to date on what I'm missing or what I've missed musically. I think we were looking at some WFMU "swag" from their marathon, including several mix CDs made by WFMU DJ's. There was a song by Tiger Lily on one of them, which was the precursor to Ultravox. When she mentioned them I inwardly rolled my eyes, but then she showed me this video:



I was totally gobsmacked. I had no idea that they were ever that good. At that time, their singer/songwriter was John Foxx (stage name for Dennis Leigh). I have no idea why that iteration of Ultravox did not gain as much popularity as the Midge Ure one--the pre-Midge-Ure Ultravox was brilliant!

I've gone onto MySpace, and found some of John Foxx's newer material. Quite different, but really good nonetheless. He's not only a musician, he's a graphic artist, digital designer, and lecturer. I can totally relate to a guy who creatively multi-tasks like that.