Friday, September 10, 2004
theo parrish these days and times
01. Those Guys feat. Ras Baraka - "An American Poem"
02. Theo Parrish - Unreleased
03. (Sounds like Larry Heard) - ?
04. ? "Just Another Lonely Night" [majorIV ?]
05. Theo Parrish - Unreleased
06. Round Four feat. Tikiman "Find a Way"
07. Blakk Society "Just Another Lonely Day"
08. Lil' Louis "War Games"
09. Theo Parrish "China Trax (Sound Signature 012)"
10. ? (very nice!)
11. New Sector Movements "The Sun (Dwele's Motorcity Remix)"
12. ? - (Sounds like Herbie Hancock)
13. Dinosaur L "Go Bang! (Francois K mix)"
14. Fela Kuti - ?
15. Tony Allen "Afro Disco Beat"
16. ? - (Sounds like Fela Kuti)
17. Roy Ayers "Running Away"
18. Donald Byrd "Lansanas Priestess"
19. Dexter Wansel "Life On Mars"
20. Ashford & Simpson "One More Try"
21. ? "keep on doing what you do, cause it feels so good"
22. ? "never let you go"
23. Eddie Kendricks "Goin' Up In Smoke"
24. ? - "family"
25. ? - "why don't you spread love"
26. ? - "high on your love/mean to be so free"
27. Charles Earland "Leaving This Planet"
29. Jill Scott "Slowely Surely (Theo Parrish rmx)"
30. Fela Kuti "Who No Know Go Now"
31. New Sector Movements - "The Sun (Dwelogy remix)"
32. ? - "precious love" (sounds like Larry Heard)
33. ? "trying to prove my love" [ned doheny ?] (I know Al Hudson & The
Partners have a song called Prove My Love...)
34. Fela Kuti - ?
35. Theo Parrish "Dirty Rhodes (Sound Signature 015)."
Posted by Peter at 1:22 PM
an essay I wrote about Swarm 2 in 2001...
"No economic force compels this vice of amiability. It springs from a faintness of the spirit, from a convention of pleasantness, which when attacked for the monstrous things it permits to enter the mind of the world, excuses itself by protesting that it is a pity to waste fierceness on things that do not matter."
Rebecca West, November 1914
Posted by Peter at 12:09 PM
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Posted by Peter at 1:41 PM
Pantaloons: Tykes on Poetry on Geof Huth and in general--
"The imaginative confines are the world outdoors: 'mossbark'; 'tadfrogs'; 'hawkspeck'; 'pondsun'; and so forth. The lyrical context, then, is remarkably parallel to Stevens's poem, and the conscious battle waged complements as well the younger Huth's analytical concerns over 'pace,' 'predicates,' and 'switching place.' Here now the basic shapes of the portmanteaux do the heavy lifting for the imagination -- 'dewweb' switching place, moving left and then right of the particle / wave debate; 'echowoods' predicating a place and a sound; 'shadowl' (my favorite) pacing and compressing what might be some gagged, sorrowful tone, but in fine what is only natural."
Posted by Peter at 11:37 AM
"Ayalik shoots RCMP Constable Lelliott, 1960" from the Sissons/Morrow Collection
"Justice Sissons became an avid collector of Inuit art during his decade in the North. His collection of carvings dealing with the outstanding trials of his northern career began when one of the accused coming before him, Kaotak, a man found not guilty of killing his father, presented him with a carving in 1956. It gave the man's impression of being on trial. This first carving launched the Justice Sissons' carving collection.
From that day on, on completion of a particularly noteworthy case, Justice Sissons would seek out local carvers whom he commissioned to depict the events in stone, ivory, caribou antler, soapstone and metal. Sometimes he would enlist the local priest or store manager to explain what he wanted; other times he would talk to the carver himself. Justice Morrow succeeded Justice Sissons in 1966. Justice Morrow continued to collect carvings of notable cases and added 3 carvings to the collection. Upon Justice Sissons' death in 1969, the collection was given to the people of the North, deeded in trust to the Northwest Territories Bar Association." (thanks RS)
Posted by Peter at 1:10 AM
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
"Today, visitors can take guided tours around a tightly restricted section, Les Catacombes, where the remains of up to six million Parisians were transferred from overcrowded cemeteries in the late 1700s.
But since 1955, for security reasons, it has been an offence to 'penetrate into or circulate within' the rest of the network.
There exist, however, several secretive bands of so-called cataphiles, who gain access to the tunnels mainly after dark, through drains and ventilation shafts, and hold what in the popular imagination have become drunken orgies but are, by all accounts, innocent underground picnics.
The recent discovery of three newly enlarged tunnels underneath the capital's high-security La Sante prison was put down to the activities of one such group, and another, identifying itself as the Perforating Mexicans, last night told French radio the subterranean cinema was its work. "
Posted by Peter at 3:55 PM
happy birthday Ludovico Ariosto!
from Orlando Furioso canto 34, Astolpho goes to the moon...
The chariot, towering, threads the fiery sphere,
And rises thence into the lunar reign.
This, in its larger part they find as clear
As polished steel, when undefiled by stain;
And such it seems, or little less, when near,
As what the limits of our earth contain:
Such as our earth, the last of globes below,
Including seas, which round about it flow.
Here doubly waxed the paladin's surprize,
To see that place so large, when viewed at hand;
Resembling that a little hoop in size,
When from the globe surveyed whereon we stand,
And that he both his eyes behoved to strain,
If he would view Earth's circling seas and land;
In that, by reason of the lack of light,
Their images attained to little height.
Here other river, lake, and rich champaign
Are seen, than those which are below descried;
Here other valley, other hill and plain,
With towns and cities of their own supplied;
Which mansions of such mighty size contain,
Such never he before of after spied.
Here spacious hold and lonely forest lay,
Where nymphs for ever chased the panting prey.
He, that with other scope had thither soared,
Pauses not all these wonder to peruse:
But led by the disciple of our Lord,
His way towards a spacious vale pursues;
A place wherein is wonderfully stored
Whatever on our earth below we lose.
Collected there are all things whatsoe'er,
Lost through time, chance, or our own folly, here.
Nor here alone of realm and wealthy dower,
O'er which aye turns the restless wheel, I say:
I speak of what it is not in the power
Of Fortune to bestow, or take away.
Much fame is here, whereon Time and the Hour,
Like wasting moth, in this our planet prey.
Here countless vows, here prayers unnumbered lie,
Made by us sinful men to God on high:
The lover's tears and sighs; what time in pleasure
And play we here unprofitably spend;
To this, of ignorant men the eternal leisure,
And vain designs, aye frustrate of their end.
Empty desires so far exceed all measure,
They o'er that valley's better part extend.
There wilt thou find, if thou wilt thither post,
Whatever thou on earth beneath hast lost.
He, passing by those heaps, on either hand,
Of this and now of that the meaning sought;
Formed of swollen bladders here a hill did stand,
Whence he heard cries and tumults, as he thought.
These were old crowns of the Assyrian land
And Lydian -- as that paladin was taught --
Grecian and Persian, all of ancient fame;
And now, alas! well-nigh without a name.
Golden and silver hooks to sight succeed,
Heaped in a mass, the gifts which courtiers bear,
-- Hoping thereby to purchase future meed --
To greedy prince and patron; many a snare,
Concealed in garlands, did the warrior heed,
Who heard, these signs of adulation were;
And in cicalas, which their lungs had burst,
Saw fulsome lays by venal poets versed.
Loves of unhappy end in imagery
Of gold or jewelled bands he saw exprest;
Then eagles' talons, the authority
With which great lords their delegates invest:
Bellows filled every nook, the fume and fee
Wherein the favourites of kings are blest:
Given to those Ganymedes that have their hour,
And reft, when faded is their vernal flower.
O'erturned, here ruined town and castle lies,
With all their wealth: "The symbols" (said his guide)
"Of treaties and of those conspiracies,
Which their conductors seemed so ill to hide."
Serpents with female faces, felonies
Of coiners and of robbers, he descried;
Next broken bottles saw of many sorts,
The types of servitude in sorry courts.
He marks mighty pool of porridge spilled,
And asks what in that symbol should be read,
And hears 'twas charity, by sick men willed
For distribution, after they were dead.
He passed a heap of flowers, that erst distilled
Sweet savours, and now noisome odours shed;
The gift (if it may lawfully be said)
Which Constantine to good Sylvester made.
A large provision, next, of twigs and lime
-- Your witcheries, O women! -- he explored.
The things he witnessed, to recount in rhyme
Too tedious were; were myriads on record,
To sum the remnant ill should I have time.
'Tis here that all infirmities are stored,
Save only Madness, seen not here at all,
Which dwells below, nor leaves this earthly ball...
Posted by Peter at 8:35 AM
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
we can only hope
"'At the current rate of loss,' the report yells, 'literary reading as a leisure activity will virtually disappear in half a century.'
Really? To answer this question, let's look for a moment at the photograph of NEA chairman Dana Gioia displayed in the report's introduction. He's a trim-looking fellow: I'd guess about 165 pounds. Now, let's say that Dana's been hitting the maple scones lately, and gained four pounds in the last month. By applying Reading at Risk's statistical model of linear progression, I hereby predict that in 50 years time, NEA chairman Dana Gioia will weigh 2,565 pounds. "
Posted by Peter at 8:09 PM