Tag Archives: reading

Airborne…in a rant…

http://www.airbornejazz.com/summermusicdownloads.htm

The song Brazilian Praise is the best song ever. It reminds one of motor boats, the metropolis, in it’s crowed latin rhythms, but in it’s horns and it’s vocals, it’s more like a tropical beach, always presenting a warm face, with blue waters and golden sunshine. Sails, cocktails on the deck, tans, the colors of the alcohol. Which meant that this boat moved fast, but it didn’t move that fast.

It’s the worlds most infectious elevator music, and you might like it too. And I’m greatly overjoyed to have encountered it. There’s a strange place where tropical music meets video games. I can definitely associate the relationship with reptiles and monkeys. Mario and the turtles, the underwater levels, as well as some of the above ground ones, some even in Egyptian like settings, and there’s no doubt that the beachside races in Mario kart didn’t end up in some afterparty where Toad was slamming rum on the beach. The tropical jams, have been around us for a while. Even sonic the hedgehog seemed to have a tropical ambiance, with the palm trees in the background. Yes, there is such a thing as the palm tree conspiracy, where life is a beach with music and some kind of adventure.

Notice how there was never a tropical theme to the music in Contra? Ever wonder why? There was no beach. They fought through jungles infested with aliens, and the enemy had no knowledge of tropical beach shenanigans on a summer night. This is why they were the alien, they couldn’t relate to the alcohol and the sex. They couldn’t hang with the bright sunshine and other shit. Castlevania too. No tropical theme there. Probably plenty of sex. Although, I can’t remember whether the protagonist was after a chick. The point of Contra? There’s no chick. It’s not like they beat up every one of those aliens and get a chick at the end, they get some power-ups in a silver box. Would they go all the way out there to beat up aliens for the earth, where the tropical beaches promised sex and alcohol? I hope so. Maybe there was money involved, who knows? BUT, moving on, aliens don’t like beaches. I’ve never seen an alien planet with cool aliens that had a beach pm it. Maybe those aliens that look goofy with big eyes and kind of like a tall, skinny, booger. Maybe they had beaches and just sat down and looked at the stars, but I doubt they had palm trees.

That’s the end of the story.

What did the five fingers say to the face?

Palm tree!

SLAP!

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The everything and anything, and again…the new is here.

The new is here.

It’s here in many places, and first of all, I’d like to say, it’s in my damn daily life.  Stopping by the Pine Box in Seattle I was able to enjoy some of the good sounds of LCD Soundsystem underneath the loud, clamorous din of discussion.

Maybe, that’s about what I’ll be able to establish here in a while.  But, it will take a moment.  Time, repetition, all the things that many rhetoricians talk about – moving in logical succession in order to create a feeling of natural sensation.  One that resonates within the reader, within the experience itself.

Being at the Pine Box I was there, because I had been pointed there by a small roadside sign, but also, because a friend had told me that Bruce Lee’s wake had been held there.  The two suggestions coming at once led for me to enjoy the experience more than I normally would have allowed myself to.  To think of all the things that the master of the law of action, and the explicit expression that “nothing that you can do that can’t be done” – just like the Beetles say, but only actually done better. They say he was a true original in that sense, he knew he had to work outside the established market system in order to make it in movies. And he did, moving, quickly, aptly, and with grace and skill along the way.

Bruce Lee, I was happy to see that your picture was on the wall. The experience in the Pine Box reminded me that life is both what we are, water, energy, and the shape that is formed by the container of that water.  Change the container, change the water.  Add enough water, and it fills an even greater container.

Just what container we are, well, hopefully, it is a changing one, that evolves.  That moves, that continually holds this energy in a shape that resonates with the rest of the environment, and in some small way, the Truth as well…

Can I be an asshole and say that Tao Lin is the new Bruce Lee?  Of literature, of publishing, of media?  Him and his crazy vagina adumbrating shellfish on his face, reminiscent of Magritte, the  readiness of the digital age, and  more so, a new, hopefully more than just drug using and shocking vision of life.

The greatest hope I would have is that his work is not merely a mocking, but something well thought out and calculated, and if not, then freeform and wild, but not mocking, somehow, there are those that need to be mocked, and maybe that game is being played on a meta level through the action of his publication.

That being said, the mention he had in a recent interview, talking about how he speaks of Schopenhauer suggesting that one should live their life-like a book already written, is interesting.

The book, the one we may boldly postulate to be already written, is the container, and life is the moment through which one may aspire to move into one as such.

Maybe that’s the point, more people should think of this before they’re busily involved with the book that others have written for them, and should start, with their own inventions, their own book, written by them, for them.  I certainly agree.