s n a p p e r h e a d

Thought We Had 594 Days? Now It's 14.

Yuuup...there's always going to be someone out there more bizarre and unstable than normal-weird. I say normal-weird because (as far as I can tell) there's always been a constant median of weirdness everywhere you look. I've come to expect it. If I took a downtown-stroll and didn't see at least a couple normal weirdos, I'd feel deprived—like an 'every-predator-asleep' visit to the zoo. With the population constantly rising, I expect there to gradually be more and more normal weirdos plying their brand of loony in my vicinity; not less....nooope.

But, these two über-weirdos say that starting on the 21^st of May (in two weeks) the earth's going to begin being earthquaked to smithereens. Then, according to their interpretation of an ancient allegorical anthology, over the next 153 days the universe crumbles and finally extinguishes on Friday, 21 October 2011.

Shit! I was hoping to get my golf game consistently under 90 this summer. It was already going to be tough—I just got a new putter—but now, with constant earthquakes, it's going to be nearly impossible. And here I was counting on the 594 more days the Mayan's promised and voting in next year's election as well.

Irishwind: An Amazing Artist

I have admired Irishwind as an artist for six years. She lives in Singapore and draws like I wish I could. Similar to my work, much of her art relies on pareidolia and apophenia, (which happens to be one of my 2009 titles).

Recently, I learned that some people are either unable or less-prone to seeing "things which aren't there" and, I surmise, that's a primary reason why some don't like abstract art. When someone says they "don't understand" a work of art—what they mean is they are unable to look at (hear, watch) something that relies upon the "abilities" of pareidolia-apophenia (either or both) to appreciate it.

Irishwind's art can be seen here. Go appreciate it! (Even if you are pareapop-blind.)

MySoLiMo - My Song List Month

In March-April I participated in a month-of-songs. I began by following someone. Once I learned it was a meme, *wards evil-claw while hissing* I began creating my own categories. Listen to the 30-song playlist (2hr 49min) on YouTube Music.

Your Favorite Song. Starship Trooper, YES
A Song You Fucking Hate. Fade To Black, METALLICA
A Song That Makes You Happy. Ooh Aah Just a Little Bit, GINA G
A Song That Makes You Sad. Beautiful, CHRISTINA AGUILERA
A Song That Reminds You of Someone. Canadian Sunset, HUGO WINTERHALTER
A Song That Reminds You of Someplace. Knock Three Times, TONY ORLANDO & DAWN
A Song That Reminds You of an Event. Vincent, DON McLEAN
A Song You Know All the Words To. Man of Constant Sorrow, SOGGY BOTTOM BOYS
A Song That Makes You Laugh. No Children, THE MOUNTAIN GOATS
A Song That Describes You. Poor Boy, SUPERTRAMP
A Song You Can Dance To. Block Rockin Beats, THE CHEMICAL BROTHERS
A Song That Makes You Fall Asleep. Surf Sounds, NATURE
A Favorite Song From (Random Year). True, SPANDAU BALLET (1983)
A Song That Reminds You of Elementary School. Winchester Cathedral, NEW VAUDEVILLE BAND
A Song Which Reminds You of a Sport or Job. D'yer Ma'ker (Jamaica), LED ZEPPELIN
The Oldest Song You Enjoy. Boléro, RAVEL
A Fucking Song. Mia Culpa, ENIGMA
Your Favorite Duet. Under Pressure, FREDDIE MERCURY, DAVID BOWIE & QUEEN
Your Paragon of Protest Songs. Why Can't We Live Together, TIMMY THOMAS
Your Favorite Instrumental. The Box, ORBITAL
Your Favorite Foreign Song. Cose Della Vita, EROS RAMAZZOTTI
A Song Which the Color (Random) Reminds You Of. And She Was, TALKING HEADS (green)
Your Favorite Spiritual-or-Secular Song. The Weight, THE BAND & THE STAPLE SINGERS
A Favorite From Your First Compilation Album. Lucky Man, EMERSON, LAKE & PALMER
A Song You Enjoy From Your Least-Listened-To Genre. From A Distance, NANCI GRIFFITH
A Quirky Song You Admire, But Can't Put Your Finger On Why. The Sun King et al., THE BEATLES
A Song That Reminds You of a Favorite Film. Monsters, CHI-AD
A Song Which Reflects Your Opinion On The Weather. Feels Like Heaven, URBAN COOKIE COLLECTIVE
A Favorite Talk Song. Somewhere Down The Crazy River, ROBBIE ROBERTSON
The Newest Song You Enjoy. Wishery, POGO

other music lists:

combat sAd (62 songs 4:20 length)

What The Fuss Is All About Patrick Rothfuss

About once a decade I "discover" a "new" fantasy/speculative fiction author with sufficient imagination, drive, and wordsmith-ability to hold me rapt for thousands of pages. Normally, I come upon them—whether stumbling by lucky happenstance or navigating by direction—after their trilogy is complete. Not the case with The Kingkiller Chronicle, written by Patrick Rothfuss.

The first 750 pages (The Name of the Wind) were very good. The next nearly-1000 pages (The Wise Man's Fear) were great-to-excellent and better than the first. The third is still being carefully crafted. I hope it's published early in 2012; with sufficient time for me to read it before the end of the world.

Patrick Rothfuss is on the same shelf as: Orson Scott Card, Frank Herbert, J.R.R. Tolkien, and Gene Wolfe.

☆☆☆ Ratings—The Forgettable 3+/- Defined

Dear anonymous (14-year-old-male) commenter who recommended Sucker Punch and questioned my 3+ rating on Source Code here.

I've previously detailed my unorthodox rating schema.

Simply put: The vast majority of everything is forgettable (the mediocre ☆☆☆).

Over time, we forget things that don't stand-out. ☆☆☆☆☆ are reserved for the few fantastically-great things we witness, and although we try to avoid ☆, occasionally, we step in something terribly-horrible anyway.

Normal rating systems fail to address that the majority of things (over 65%) are forgettable. My system—best visualized as a hyperbolic curve—addresses these bland, middle-range, ☆☆☆, forgettable things by sub-dividing it. 3+ are forgettable with some memorable accomplishments and 3- are forgettable with a few memorable errors.

pogo ∼ snapperhead ∴ pogos ∼ digi-rends

Today is my thirtieth-consecutive day of my song list month, which I've grown fond of referring to as MySoLiMo. This eight-letter-run-on is a parody of National Novel Writers Month (NaNoWriMo). I pronounce it like an American butchering the Italian song 'O Sole Mio, but I begin with 'My' instead of 'Oh'. Today's title is a reference to my day-14 title: toothbrush ∼ condom ∴ dental caries ∼ ?.

The original meme author's final title was ~~your favorite song at this time last year~~; my similar but less-restrictive category is:

The Newest Song You Enjoy

On March 24^th I began MySoLiMo mistakenly thinking the titles were coming from the incisive mind of Ginny, a writer whom I respect. I also thought it was going to be a video month (that's how she described it at first). Although I began coloring outside the lines on day 3 (when I selected a sad video, instead of a song) the obvious cracks didn't begin to stand out—for me—until after a week (when I began to suspect Ginny wasn't the author and started choosing my own categories). Because I especially enjoy films, and I wanted to steer the meme back toward videos, my day 8 selection was from a film.

Day ten I briefly touched on the difficulty of creating MySoLiMo categories from whole cloth, while cherry-picking from the more interesting original author's titles. The fourteenth-day Ginny confessed to also disliking the titles. Now that I realized I wouldn't be stepping on her toes, I abandoned the original author's titles (albeit I did ridicule and scorn them more than thrice).

I retained the song-theme while continuing to hint at—as well as insert—movie, film, and video (maybe I'll craft a MoFiVoLiMo someday) references whenever the opportunity arose.

Recently I've been listening to Pogo (Australian artist Nick Bertke, not the possum cartoon character who's most memorable caption—quoted in 2009 here—is: We have met the enemy and he is us).

I love everything he pogos. Yes, as a verb. It's not mere remixing; no more than my digital renderings from poached images are just photo-shopping. The pogos (versatile, yup, now it's a pronoun) I enjoy most are those distilled from animated films. However, the pogo from his mother's garden is fantastic (makes me tear-up a little); as is the one I saw excerpted on television last month, about a local place I've hiked (Beaver Creek State Park).

My newest favorite is Pogo's Wishery. It plays to an entire menagerie of affinations: instrumental, talk-song, film, elec-trance, as well as it chimes both my happy and laugh bells.

My complete 30-day list of songs: My Song List Month
Redux-Return to Day 1: My Favorite Song

AFFINATION

A Favorite Talk Song.

Subtitle: (if you're not into the ol' brevity thing) a music composition incorporating instruments and vocals in such a manner that some, or all, vocals are spoken rather than sung (e.g. the rap genre; the song Tubthumper—a safe example because it's nobody's favorite; or everything by Lou Reed).

My favorite talk song is Somewhere Down The Crazy River, by Robbie Robertson.

          There are quite a few talk-songs I like. I'm not exactly sure why, but, since I am the most qualified to posit a theory, here goes.

          Poetry sounds like a song which has taken a cappella to the extreme. When lyrics are sung the words become part of, and meld with, the song. Speak with instrumental accompaniment, however, and the prose stands out. Tells a story. I have an affination for this type of song-stylin'.

          Here's a thing (more of a tangential aside-thing) affination is a word I've used my entire adult life, but it doesn't mean what I want it to mean. And never has. But. I still use it. Affination (from the—obviously—abridged snapperhead dictionary): A proclamation of strong affinity used in much the same manner as the (real) words: abomination, fascination, consignation, and (especially) affectation.**

          But where was I? Oh, yeah. Talk-songs. Affinity.

The story takes center stage when a singer downshifts the lyrics and speaks some of the song's words. If he or she has an interesting voice—with a story-teller's ear-catching character and inflection—the story of the song is more-easily sculpted into memory.

Even if you haven't heard Lullabye by Shawn Mullins in over a decade, you probably still remember which celebrities her parents hung out with, at big parties?^‡ And, if you (like most) were only confused by the off-putting Mmm(x4) song by The Crash Test Dummies...I still wouldn't be surprised if you, none-the-less, remember why the boy's hair turned from black to bright white?^♦

** If you work in the sugar-processing or metallurgical industries, you may feel affronted by my repurposing your word. Good. I would ask that this not become the one turd in a sea of shit that pisses you off and hope you don't decide to do somethin' about this turd—but I won't. I hope it pisses your federally subsidized asses right-the-fuck off.
‡ Dennis Hopper, Bob Seger, Sonny and Cher.
♦ from when the cars crashed sooo hard.

Day 30 - Newest Song You Enjoy

Free My Mind...Just Free My Mind

A Song Which Reflects Your Opinion On The Weather.

The weather, in today's category, is a metaphor. It could have been anything beyond our control; chicken little's non-upcoming apocalypse, solidly proven quantum factoids, the flowering myth of world-wide social equality—anything at all—I just chose weather because it's global (omnipresent), powerful (omnipotent), and everyone has an opinion about it (omnipinint). (Not to be confused with omnipaninint...the burgeoning trend of selling every sandwich on earth with grill lines.)

Feels Like Heaven by Urban Cookie Collective is my metaphorical answer.

But wait.

Why then, does my answer seem meteorological in nature?

      I thought that would be obvious from the tone, young grasshopper.

Whether you're too vain to understand metaphors or your brain can only interpret all the information your senses send to it in such an extremely straightforward manner that you're unable to (free your mind) stop fixating on the weathervane, the answer is still the same.

There is no spoon.

          It's never just a foot massage.

          When you're chewing on life's gristle, don't grumble, give a whistle.

Day 29: A Favorite Talk Song

The Prodigal Song

Today's category: A Song That Reminds You of a Favorite Film.

Sample-quotes from two favorite films are within my favorite Chi-AD song Monsters.

The first sample-quote, from Aliens (1986), is a conversation between Newt and Ripley: "Mommy said there weren't bad monsters—not real ones—but there are." "Yes there are aren't there?" "Why do they tell little kids that?" "Most of the time it's true."

The second is from The Usual Suspects (1995). Kobayashi, the lawyer, saying, "One cannot be betrayed if one has no people."

I jogged to this song my last three years of military service; its tempo was perfect to set a strong initial pace. Upon retirement, I left the running, bathroom scale, uniforms, alarm clock, barber, and uncountable miscellaneous items and routines behind; this song became forgotten on my jogging playlist. I'm quite pleased this has reminded me of it. Enough to kill a fatted clef.

Day 28 - Song Which Reminds You of the Weather

Sunday's on the phone to Monday

A Quirky Song You Admire, But Can't Put Your Finger On Why; everybody has at least one rollin' around back there like a three-legg'd puppy in a truck-bed bouncin' along a washboard road. When you think about it, faster than you can say Bob's yer uncle, you'll give-n-get a smirk with that inside-to-your-ownself smile.

                    but, even if you seriously try
                    to concentrate on all the why
                    n' all the way t' Kokomo pry
                    'til unwrapped-present sighs
                    Go figure

I'm not cheating. Mine is The Sun King et al. by The Beatles. Technically five songs, but not in reality (no more than side-one of Dark Side of the Moon should be listened to as five stand-alone songs). Those who say otherwise ...well... they're as wrong as blue soy turducken and should spin that-there dial back to their fav pop station lickedy-split.*

I admire The Sun King et al. because...

whimsical non-words and alliterative phrases abound
my bona fide fy-ants is named Pam
I'm a retired police officer
my favorite condiment is mustard
Tuesday's on the phone to me (oh yeah)

*Where else can you find this concise of a sentence containing one hyphenated Americanism, three correctly used homophones, two abbreviated popular slang terms, one three-word malapropism (using a real 3-bird American meal to supplant a politically incorrect adage about homosexuals)?

Day 27: A Song That Reminds You of a Favorite Film

From a Distance This Ain't No Meme

My category for this 25^th day of MySoLiMo is A Song You Enjoy From Your Least-Listened-To Genre.

In all fairness, this is slightly similar to day 14's title from the original meme (which I abandoned a few weeks back because most of those titles were befuddlingly redundant and immature). The little girl's title was ~~A Song That No One Would Expect You To Love~~. I criticized it a little already, so I'll just explain why mine is superior. Her verbiage is too restrictive. Readers who ponder it are discouraged when they try-on different songs (in their mental dressing room) and discover none of them fit; either they don't love it, someone on the planet knows them well-enough, or the concept of song expectations is off-putting. My category relies on the simple assumption that everyone has at least one music genre they rarely listen to, but, can still identify an enjoyable song from.

I'm not proud of my prejudices. They aren't a characteristic I routinely discuss (with fingers or voice). My strongest prejudice comes in the form of a sincere disdain for those who proudly enjoy and embrace their own ignorance. It's easier to describe the behavior of these people from a distance. They live in America's rural south—in Texas and Georgia and all the sad states in-between. They enjoy watching cars race around in a circle, wearing impractical costumes, driving impractical vehicles and being hypocrites (reveling in the inherited-hatred of those who differ from them in thought, appearance, or deed...which they blithely rationalize as the will of their creator).

Oh sky cake, why are you so delicious?

This music, the music of those who enjoy flaunting their ignorance—American Country, Bluegrass, and Folk—are the genres I have, and will, listen to the least.

However, I enjoy Nanci Griffith (very much a down-home Texan folk singer). Her voice always contains a wink and a smile. Her lyrics rarely cater to the NASCAR lovin' cowboy, drivin' his HMMWV to church with stars n bars flyin' from his antenna. Her version of From A Distance (written by Julie Gold) is the one I prefer.

The 1^st stanza describes, literally, our planet from high above.
The refrain, 3^rd and 5^th stanzas sketch humans—from a distance—as harmonious, peaceful, and well-fed.
The middle stanza declares: God is watching us from a distance. (Irony?)

Maybe yesterday's song has me still thinking about irony too much. I get the idealized, hope-for-a-better-mankind-tomorrow message. But, within the song's context, isn't it saying: God doesn't exist. If she did, he can't see all the terrible feckin shite we keep doing to ourselves from its distant vantage point. Maybe it's just me and I'm not taking 'distance' metaphorically enough?

Day 26: A Quirky Song You Admire, But Can't Put Your Finger On Why

A Favorite From Your First Compilation Album

My first compilation album came from a drug store bargain bin. The full set (two 8-tracks) cost me five dollars, was called Superstars of the 70's, and contained about fifty songs...'only a dime a song!'...was how I rationalized this expenditure to myself.

To put this in some perspective: it was 1976; I earned $2.30/hr; but, because my parents required me to save half of my pay for college, after taxes I received no more than $1.00/hr in pocket-money.

My Favorite Song From My First Compilation Album was—and still is—Lucky Man by Emerson, Lake, and Palmer. There were songs from that double-album I rarely listened to (pushing 'next track' every time they came on) and then there were those I re-listened over-n-over, so often, they're indelibly stamped in long-term memory. This was one of the latter.

My fy-ants (mentioned here) says this song is too sad and depressing for her. For me, it's a perfectly wonderful example of irony...the 'lucky' knight-soldier immortalized by Moog synthesizer.

For those still counting, this is day 24 of My Song List Month (MySoLiMo).

Day 25: Song You Enjoy From Your Least-Listened-To Genre

It's Just Me, Carrying My Weight

Today is Your Favorite Spiritual-or-Secular Song. This category is not intended to be construed as encompassing everything (as it could be read) but, instead, is supposed to be taken in the vein that "everyone has something they do religiously".

The Weight by The Band and The Staples Singers (from the film The Last Waltz, directed by Martin Scorsese) is mine. At first glance, key lyrics (Nazareth, Moses, Judgement Day) hint that this is a religious song. But, each of the stanzas end with all-too human results...the listener eventually realizes that the song's protagonist (as it were) is just a normal human trying, failing, helping, and—ultimately—only succeeding in carrying his own load.

I've been a fan of this film, and especially this version of The Weight, since 1979 when I saw it in the Oriental Theater on Milwaukee's East Side. It was fantastic on the huge single screen. (The Oriental was, unfortunately, sliced into four small screens decades ago). 32 years ago, ten dollars got you a punch-card good for five admissions, which covered all the films showing that day except for the weekend midnight show (Rocky Horror). Normally there were two alternating films, unless a film was longer than three hours (e.g. The Seven Samurai, Lawrence of Arabia). When I saw The Last Waltz it was paired with The Concert for Bangladesh.

I also recall these double features:

King of Hearts & Women in Love (starring Alan Bates)
O' Lucky Man & If... (starring Malcolm McDowell)
Zardoz & Deliverance (directed by John Boorman)
Demon Seed & 2001 (starring evil computer)
Last Tango in Paris & Midnight Cowboy (X rated)
Pink Flamingos & Female Trouble (directed by John Waters)
Sleuth & Marathon Man (starring Laurence Oliver)
Harold and Maude & Being There (directed by Hal Ashby)

I love, enjoy (criticize too)...but most of all, I attend and I tithe. Films are my religion. Theaters are my churches. They help me carry my load.

Day 24: A Favorite From Your First Compilation Album

And She Was Random Colors

A Song Which the Color (Random) Reminds You Of is today's title.

          Appropriately, And She Was Random Colors is the title of this—my newest digital rendering.

          Clicking on the 'generate color' button of the color generator gave me: grass-green.

          Al Green wrote the song Take Me to the River; although I'm only familiar with the Talking Heads version.

One of my favorite Talking Heads songs is And She Was, which begins with the lyric: "And she was lying in the grass..."

Day 23: Your Favorite Spiritual-or-Secular Song

...but then, where is life?

Today's category is Favorite Foreign Language Song.

In the early-to-mid 1990s I lived in Belgium (mentioned here) but traveled continuously as a protective service agent (fancy name for bodyguard). I tried to find something I liked in the countries I visited (detailed here). In a few—where I wasn't in control of the radio—all I seemed to hear was English or American music. In many more I was able to listen to local music but failed to discover a song-style or musician I liked enough to buy their CD. Not to shock anyone...but fifteen years ago, that really was the only way to re-hear a song you liked from the radio or television.

I spent more than four months in Italy during those three years. (In the protection business, cultivating security relationships can be helpful, therefore, team-members usually returned to countries where they'd made useful contacts. Mine were in France, The Netherlands, and Italy.) It was in Italy where I heard and bought the CD containing Cose della Vita by Eros Ramazzotti. I prefer this original to the 1997 duet-version with Tina Turner.

Just like listening to an Opera in English ruins it (makes me laugh) the translation of these Italian lyrics are unimportant. If I knew them they'd probably lose their je ne sais qua.

Day 22: A Song Which the Color (Random) Reminds You Of

Instrumental

Today's category is Your Favorite Instrumental.

Since electronica and trance (and many of their sub-genres) are my preferred genres, it's simple to understand why Orbital's full version of The Box is my favorite instrumental (The Box Part 1 and The Box Part 2 is the full almost 13 minute title).

For those unfamiliar with elec-trance—claiming a preference for Orbital is the equivalent of declaring that one's favorite male vocalist of the 50s is Elvis or saying Pink Floyd is your favorite psychedelic rock band of the 70s. I know I'm picking low-hanging fruit. It's the best.

Day 21: Favorite Foreign Language Song

The Paragon of Protest Songs

My personal Paragon of Protest Songs (today's category) is Timmy Thomas' 1972 song, "Why Can't We Live Together". The Hammond organ. That punctuation note. Hammering home the message. Demanding your attention with subtle simplicity.

I was a child during Vietnam (that's how everyone referred to it. One word. One noun. Heavily laden with invisible but not silent verbs.) When I joined the "teenager ranks" my requirement to register for the draft in a short five-years didn't seem very distant. I thought my choices were clearly defined by Walter Cronkite on the nightly news: become a scorned soldier who napalmed innocent villagers or join the ranks of protesters beaten by police.

At thirteen, I didn't want to do either.

The draft was eliminated when I was fourteen.

Vietnam ended when I was sixteen.

When I entered Purdue University (go Boilermakers) at seventeen, all the protests had faded like my jeans.

Papa (mentioned here and here) passed away from a heart attack in his sleep when I was nineteen years old. At Nana's house, after his funeral, my sister and I sat at the organ (mentioned here) while family members milled, cried, and whispered around us. We both tried to play Timmy's melody and punctuation note; demanding attention with subtle simplicity.

Day 20: Favorite Instrumental

When Two Heads Are Better

          My song-category for this eighteenth day of thirty is: Your Favorite Duet.

          There are almost as many forgettably-forgotten songs sung by two people in tandem as there are played by groups and sung by soloists. To identify this favorite I ran my mind, ears, and eyes across many such songs, tunes, and titles.

I recall not hating the film Duets directed by Bruce Paltrow and starring Paul Giamatti. The one duet which has always stuck with me from the film—Giamatti singing Try a Little Tenderness with Andre Braugher. Although it's not my favorite duet, by deconstructing it I was able to identify my favorite.

Try a Little Tenderness is a fantastic song. I've heard it sung by several artists. I enjoy the version by Otis Redding and the covers by Three Dog Night as well as The Commitments.   So, first and foremost, a favorite duet must be a great song all by itself, no matter who sings it.

I was a bit surprised to learn that Giamatti and Braugher are capable-to-good vocalists, but there's a reason they both earn their livings acting and not singing. So, the second factor in identifying a favorite duet, is that both singers must be great solo-vocalists in their own right.

          The third and final determinate is the gestalt or the mise-en-scène (if you'll allow a visual metaphor to describe the realm of song). Combine the tunes meter, rhythm, instrument's sounds, vocals, echos, vibrations, silences, etc...with the lyric's words, phrasing, inflections, structure, intended meanings and emotions. Now mix in all the unintended meanings and associated emotions introduced by each listener. The result is a favorite song.

My favorite duet is one which both of the vocalists as well as the band of musicians contributed equally to the creation of, and overall everything of: Under Pressure by Freddie Mercury and David Bowie. They never recorded it together live. None-the-less, this wonderful video adds an additional layer of emotion to the recording.