Song of the Morning: Amos the Transparent

As I'm writing this the voting has just started and though the polls do show a certain trend, past campaigns have shown it's important not to count the proverbial eggs before they're hatched. Still, as the votes are being counted, I can't help but wonder how these elections and their outcome will be remembered and analyzed in the future.

Will those in the future mock us for our expectations and hopes? Will they admire our courage? Will they condemn us for falling for the folly of youth and charisma? Will they mark the 2008 elections as a significant transition point from the racist era of the past or perhaps the continued rise of corporations and mass media giants?

At the end of the day, no matter who wins, there will be unavoidable disappointments from each of the candidates. It would be up to them to realize the national dreams and hopes of their voters, despite the sometimes hostile Houses, in face of a teetering economy, global climate problems, troops in faraway countries, a lousy international image and ravenous powers behind the corner. A change, such as it may, will come. That doesn't guarantee it will be liked by all.

But for now, let us celebrate, a storm crow's cry north of the US, in Canada. This post's haunting song is from the band (primarily a duo) "Amos the Transparent" (Last.fm for more details and Facebook for more updates). Their sound can be defined somewhere between folk and indie pop, though I'm not sure neither of those definitions will do. Make sure to check their website and meet them in person (or at least in a series of videos).

Amos the Transparent - Title Track (from Everything I’ve Forgotten To Forget )

Amos the Transparent picture from their MySpace. A re-post.

Featured Artist: Idan Rabinovici

To continue the trend of correcting oversights, I want to dedicate this post to singer-songwriter Idan Rabinovici. As his last name appears to be a certain point of contention among his fans, I'll stick with the official version.

Idan divides his time and possibly his sources of inspiration between the US, the UK and Israel, writing and performing soulful (as in personal and powerful, not necessarily the Aretha Franklin way) songs. He also took part in a sort of art-urban activism project called 'the collective' and recently served as the opening act for José González (in what is said to be one of the best performances in recent times; naturally, as a complete idiot, I didn't go).

His debut album, "Bedroom Folk", which I bought shortly after it release in early 2008, is a beautiful piece of modern urban folk. Though I'd recommend the entire album, my favorite tracks are "Morning Song" (the ending makes me want to get down on my knees and pray), "Jared's Blues", "Jungle Man" and "Butterfly". The latter has a few lines that speak to me these days, spoken in a certain defiance:

"I'm alive,
yeah, I'm alive;
We do the best we can
or at least we try".

I don't think I'll miss the next concert.

Idan Rabinovici (MySpace, Last.fm) - Butterfly (from Bedroom Folk [Basement Records, CD Baby])

Idan Rabinovici's Photo by Goni Riskin, see http://flickr.com/photos/goniriskin/sets/72157607942136352/

Song of the Morning: Psychedlics, Samples and James Bond

I know. I've been overly negligent in not writing so long. I wish I could say I had a good reason like finding the love of my life or even a bad reason like being at work. Instead, I have to settle for just not feeling up to it, as though my creative sap has dried up all of a sudden.

It hasn't just yet. As much as I love the winter (my favorite season), it needs some getting used to, and this is but the middle of autumn. So I'll trudge on with a few more bouts of dizzy spells and that'll be that, I expect.

This period has allowed me to be finally exposed to some good music from a few years back and some more recent work. Most seem to follow the trend of deconstruction, of moving away from the more traditional song writing styles into a more chaotic structure. Some, like The Avalanches, build on samples and the joining of bits and pieces into creating a new and sometimes strange or wonderful whole. Others, like Black Moth Super Rainbow, seem to build from the ground up, except that the ground is sometimes up or inverted or in some Alice in Wonderland styled caterpillar world that somehow meets a vision of a weed-clutching/acid-dropping San Francisco of the early 70' (that's what I got, and I don't do drugs).

And yet, the song that is haunting my mind these days is entirely simple in form and lyrics. I can't really explain why Shirley Bassey's "Diamonds are Forever" won't leave me be (those closing lines might have something to do with it). Maybe I need something as simple and clear as that song every now and again - the messages is clear, the lyrics are simple and logical and the melody is very catchy. Mostly, it had the good fortune to be sung by the powerful voice of Ms. Bassey - it has no choice but to be hurtled on over to the listener, so fitting in the traditional James Bond world settings.

As odd as it may seem though, wisdom can be found even in James Bond songs. Take "You Only Live Twice" (lyrics) for example (what a great title!). Again, in simple, perhaps a little corny but direct lyrics and presentation (Nancy Sinatra), you get the all too important place of love in your life as well as the rather lucid view that your dreams are also important, perhaps as important as the dull day to day existence sometimes mislabeled as 'life'. So, when you meet that strange dream, that risk called love, hold on to it. Who wants to wake up?

Black Moth Super Rainbow - Happy Melted City (from Drippers)

Black Moth Super Rainbow picture from their Last.fm profile.

Celebrate life (or death)?: Elliott Smith

As our friends on 'haoneg' and other places have noted, today is the fifth anniversary for Elliott Smith's death. To my shame, I was introduced to him only after he'd died, but this unfortunate fact does not stand in the way of his music.
I'm still a bit self conscious when I approach him, almost reluctant, as though I am afraid to hurt him or maybe just feeling exposed by the lyrics and the music that seem to envelope him.

Sorry. The piano on "Color Bars" just hit my tender spot.

So why mark this day, the day we became angry at him for leaving us behind, for not being strong enough for us? Why not settle for his birthday (August 6th) as the nexus of potential was just beginning? Is this just another part of the artist-following relationship where we continuously make demands for more, even beyond the grave? What do we hope for? What can we hope for?

'Cause in the end there's just the music; the first song that we hear, the first that we love, the one we share with that special person, the one that is just our own. And then there's the man: a painful reflection of our everyday hurts, dreams, loves and silence.
A cup of tears filled to the brim.

Here's a live cover of George Harrison's "My Sweet Lord". The song begins thus:
"My sweet lord
Hm, my lord
Hm, my lord

I really want to see you
Really want to be with you
Really want to see you lord
But it takes so long, my lord"

So long, Elliott.

Elliott Smith - My Sweet Lord (Live George Harrison cover)
Elliott Smith's picture from Last.fm.

Blog Action Day 2008 - Poverty

This blog is participating in the 2008 Blog Action Day, this year directed against poverty. The declared goal is to create a discussion on the web on the selected topic, a rather ambitious (perhaps presumptuous) goal. What sort of discussion or debate? That would depend on the blog and its readers - as long as it is connected to the topic.

So, what is poverty anyway? I'm not an economist or a sociologist but it seems to me that the definition for whoever is poor and whoever isn't poor changes from person to person and depends on many factors (status of the bank account [if there is one], nutritional health, socio-economic status [place of residence, mode of transportation, clothes, accessories], employment, litteracy, amount and quality of leisure time, social and cultural contexts and many more).

How do we fight something like that, that its very definiotn changes and varies from place to place and time to time? Perhaps the answer is that there is no one answer, but instead a multitude of local answers, more fitting to the plights of individuals and families (and then there's the problem of poor nations; is that a different sort of poverty or the same, only on mass scale?).

Why do we wish to fight poverty? Because it is a state of people suffering due to the extreme lack of (mostly?) material wealth relative to the cultural and social contexts.
Because children are malnutrituned, because they get laughed at behind their backs or to their faces because their parents couldn't afford that particular "cool" shoes or the school field trip.
Because the fridge is empty.
Because there is no fridge.
Because of TB, HIV and a host of other preventable or treatable plauges affecting people where a simple sex education program or a basic health system do not exist.
Because corruption kills.
Because of cultrual heritage items, antiques and works of arts being smuggled, destroyed or sold out.
Because of religious fanatics who exploit distress to fuel hatred instead of cultivating hope.
Because of children scavenging for dangerous waste metal scraps in Africa, homeless elderly in the cold streets of Washington, D.C. and dying cramped Chinese immigrants in a shipping container.
Because no one seems to care.

Poverty has many faces and many forms, all of them human.

Think hard and do good; try some of these links for ideas on what you can do to help:
Stand Up
The United Nations End Poverty by 2015 Campaign
Blog Action Day Resources

Finally, a couple of songs. Originally, this post was to be about spiritual poverty, which is a sort of asceticism, but I guess I got carried away a bit. Regardless, the first of the songs, Kristin Hersh's (MySpace, homepage) rendition of "Poor Wayfaring Stranger", sort of touches the subject. The other song deals with what some may consider globalization or maybe just capitalism and its effects on communities.

Kristin Hersh - Poor Wayfaring Stranger (from In Shock)
Welcome Wagon - Sold! To The Nice Rich Man (from Mews Too: An Asthmatic Kitty Compilation)

Song of the Morning: Forgiveness

So it's Day of Atonement, again. Sounds like something out of a science fiction or a fantasy movie, doesn't it? The weird though friendly aliens have a bizarre and morally intriguing day long ritual in which we (the viewers) get a glimpse of some ancient and wise culture (though we, through the main protagonist, eventually refute or reject its ideas, while keeping good relations with the locals in case we ever need to refuel there again). Or maybe I've just been watching too much Star Trek lately?

I'm not a practicing Jew and I have no intention of starting now. Saying that, there are some interesting ideas this day can symbolize. Unlike Christianity, Judaism has no regular absolving mechanism except in the sanctity of this day. Even so, folk beliefs stress that the important area in which to ask forgiveness for and reconcile is the human relations (while the relations between man and god are important, you must first deal with the people you live with). God, it then says, sits in judgment and determines, not too much unlike Santa Clause, whether you've been a 'good boy' and so deserve to live or maybe you've been 'naughty' and would have to end your sorry existence on this earth. Also, there are no presents and you have to fast for 24 hours.

But seriously, the day does carry special meaning and significance even to non religious people. It is the single day in the year when it is quiet. No cars, no radios, no TV. Just children on bicycle in the street, families strolling by, echoes from the synagogues. It's as though the universe changes into some mirror existence of a simpler (somewhat boring if you're of a certain mindset) life.

I find it strange and simultaneously very human and understandable that we still need some God figure (or is it father/mother figure?) to turn to, to make sure it will be alright, that if we follow the rituals it will all be forgiven and washed anew. As Kant said, man refuses to grow up, and who wants to anyway? Why not remain the rebelling teenager who secretly admires and resents his maker, knowing that he will be forgiven no matter what?

A hard day for hard thoughts. Almost like any other.

Engineers - Forgiveness (from Forgiveness)

(Bleeding) Song of the Morning: Words, etc.

Blimey, what the heck is wrong with this darn pre-owned vehicle? This bleeding Judas Priest won't play!
Ah, I had you there for a moment. No? Then how did you figure out what I was talking about?
I'm thinking about exploring the subjects of euphemisms and minced oaths and trying to tie them into the use of tautologies in natural languages. After all, maybe we're talking about similar phenomenons from different perspectives. They all utilize expressions and words to signify something other than the given text (or, indeed, the written/spoken words themselves).

In tautologies, especially cliches, the meaning can and usually is different from any direct and immediate interpretation. For example, the Yogi Berra saying "You can observe a lot by watching" seems like a tautology (rhetoric and logical and thus provide no new information on the world) but can actually carry added meaning (the importance of gathering intelligence, for one). Ah, pragmatics.

In euphemisms and minced oaths the meaning is also "hidden in plain sight", to use a cliche. It's obvious to the listeners or the readers a profanity was used and its exact type (and thus meaning) can be readily deduced or inferred from the form of the replacing word or expression.

So, in both cases a decoy that everyone involved in a certain context knows it as such is being used, while the true (or added) meaning is silently pointed to, in a civilized fashion.

Anyway, the Indie paper is currently under review and an abstract of it will be posted here (eventually). Till I get to the whole tautologies business I have some ancient Chinese logic tricks to unravel (don't ask). So in the meantime, here are three songs to use as a bridge between the previous paper (Indie music) and the next ones (tautologies and Chinese logic-music). The first is a classic by Mother Love Bone (which also deals with how words are used by different people). The other two songs are from the Irish indie rock-classical (yep, classical) band Clockwork Noise (MySpace, sort of associated blog), the first of which also deals with words while the other has a lovely violin riff.

Mother Love Bone - Man of Golden Words {MP3} (from Mother Love Bone)
Clockwork Noise - Choose Your Words {MP3}
Clockwork Noise - Egocentric {MP3}
Mother Love Bone's picture from their spot on Last.fm.

It's all about the fun (and the music)

I am progressing somewhat in my indie paper, enough to help me appreciate the hard work and energies pouring into the efforts of a struggling artist. But it's not just blood, sweat and tears. It's also about enjoying yourself and having a lot of fun while you're on the road.

This post is dedicated to webepisodes and music of a Florida alternative rock/power pop band called "We the Kings". They're 4 young energetic guys (god, I sound old...) with an equally young and energetic crowd. Their self produced short clips (properly named "The King's Carriage") taken while on the tour bus not only allow a glimpse into the mysteries of the rock star's life (skittles, anyone?), but also to their real life (McDonald's, anyone?).

Here's one about the confining tour experience. The rest are here.

In the Night: (sort of) Live Blogging

I
-
Nervously, I unlock the door and step outside (01:30).

II
--
I find myself walking the streets of Tel Aviv at 02:00 in the morning. I'm not drunk, I haven't done any drugs (except my naturally spewing endorphins) and I'm alone. My destination is relatively near. I'm trying to play some songs in my mind and when that doesn't quite work I use the infernal contraption (my iPod). I listen to the chorus: "In the night, in the night" but I just can't make out all the words. Thanks, Basia.
I expected the streets to be rather busy with people as this is Thursday and people go out, even at these hours, but it's quite desolate. Plenty of cars, though. I try to slip by.

III
---
It's about 02:30. I don't know how long I have to wait. I'm feeling very nervous but also quite still. It will all be over soon enough, I tell myself.
02:35 - There's nothing on TV. Who's great idea was it to play "300" in the middle of the night in a waiting room? I find the sight of people hacking at each other quite unappealing so I try to look away. Should I use the iPod again? Maybe I should try to read some more in that very long paper I carry around in the bag? But no, that would just stress me out some more. I wait.

IV
-----
02:45 - Finally, I enter the room and deposit my metallic stuff. Half blind, I stumble unto that hard and narrow bed. No, I don't want any shot of chemicals. Yes, it's OK.

V
-----
02:50 - I close my eyes. The world is now composed of two things: loud metallic clanks, sounds and odd noises emitted by this tube I'm in and me, trying to count and differentiate the assortment of auditory assaults I'm experiencing. I remember counting to over a thousand the last time I was here. I wonder how high I'll reach this time.

VI
------
???? - It's over. No, there it is again: life composed of a cross between a WWI sinking submarine and a washing machine-dryer combination with a few nails and shoes tumbling inside. It's not perfect, but it's home, at least for the next 10 minutes or so (which seem like forever right now).

VII
-------
03:10 - It's over and man, have I got a headache. I smile feebly as I gather my stuff and walk away into the night.

VIII
-------
03:55 - It's still very dark and marvelously quiet. I climb into the bed, sighing.

IX
--------
03:57 - I forgot to blog it live. Do I have to do it all over again?

Basia Bulat - In the Night {Video} (from Oh, My Darling)

Song of the Morning: Trees

Israel is my adoptive home. There, I said it. It's not like I, my parent's or even some of my grandparents were not born here. It's how much I feel at home that I'm talking about. On the one hand, I barely feel comfortable in my own skin. This feeble body has brought its fair share of disappointments and frailties. On the other hand, in this life I'm not likely to experience how it would be like living in another body, which means this is the only body I have and may as well consider it Home (there's a somewhat disturbing dualistic view of Mind-Body acting as a pre-supposition here; disturbing because I'm not sure what I really think or feel about it).

But I digress. My point is I don't always feel at home here, like I belong or long to be here. Whether this is the result of me being a snob, some remnants of another (and better) life elsewhere, plain escapism or a correct reading of the facts, I don't know. I like forests and rivers. The desert has its charm, but I'd prefer it'd keep its distance from me.

So yes, I'm at home here. But maybe I need a little RV time before I can finally settle in.

This post's song deals with similar issues. It was written by one of Israel's greatest poets, Leah Goldberg, expressing longing for her birthplace (she was born in Königsberg). Achinoam Nini (also known as Noa), along with Gil Dor, composed the music for it as well as adding a few verses of her own in English. She spent most of her childhood in New York and has, as she sings, "roots on both sides of the sea".

Perhaps it's possible to have roots in a far away land one has never been to. Perhaps we grow our own roots after the fact. Right now, I think I have some packing to do.

Achinoam Nini (Noa) - אילנות (Trees) {MP3} (from Achinoam Nini/Gil Dor [Leah and Rachel])
Achinoam Nini's picture from Last.fm.

Late Edit: When I first heard Amit Erez's "Postcard" a couple of years ago, I thought it dealt with the same feelings I mentioned earlier - not really belonging here and longing to be elsewhere. With the video clip of the song, released a few months ago, you get a somewhat different meaning. See below the beautiful clip.

Featured Artists: Angus & Julia Stone

I'm (finally) approaching the final stretch of the school year. With four more papers to go and an exam at the end, I can begin to see the end of it. How much have I really learned this past year, however, I can't just say. I feel it should be about more than just the information and the details I've managed to accumulate. It somehow feels like at the beginning - full of doubts, not knowing where do we go from here and what do I do with it.

As work now is nothing short of insane, I have very little time to make any significant progress with these papers. There is one, though, that I'll probably start with and I hope to elaborate about when I can. It is concerned with Indie music and how it is similar and may even be considered a kind of an open source industry. In this I mean not just the artists and the producers themselves but also the fans who take an active and a special role in spreading the music and encouraging its growth and development.

Until I get started with that research, here's a pair of Australian siblings now touring in Europe (supporting Martha Wainwright) to great success, making wonderfully sweet music. Touring, playing, having fun - what else can be asked?

Angus Stone - River (Joni Mitchell cover) {MP3} (from No Man's Woman)
Angus & Julia Stone - Just a Boy {MP3} (from A Book Like This)
Angus & Julia picture from Last.fm.

A Listener, Bound

It is now about day 60 to my addiction to Shearwater's Rook. I've been listening to it or parts of it almost daily. It has a calming effect on me, and yet it excites me. It's a whole maelstrom in here.

For those of you seeking meaning to these beautiful songs, first look into the lyrics on Matador's site (PDF). That is but the beginning though. To really get the meaning you have to listen and feel.

What I got is an overwhelming feeling of sadness and anguish felt by the so-called 'Animal world', as though the birds and the whales and the rest of the rich and once flourishing life forms on this planet were speaking to us, Humans. But it seems that they are even beyond the point of accusation and laying of blame; instead they are filled by quiet dignified sense of retreat, disappearing silently into oblivion. Leaving us, our hearts "still racing", alone.

Whale picture from the National Geographic website.

Vote for Julian

Julian Velard, the wonderful indie/jazz singer-songwriter whom I've mentioned a while back, has a new amazing interactive site. In fact, it's so great, .net magazine is nominating it as one of the best interactive sites of the year. So go ahead, explore the quest-like features in his site and vote for him here.

Julian Velard's site is here.
Picture from Facebook.

Song of the Morning: Lucky

First, a disclaimer: I support skepticism. I think it is a healthy and necessary human behavior and way of thought (you'll soon see why I mention it).

A very admired professor of mine is in the habit of producing an anecdote which, he says, demonstrates the importance of skepticism. It goes something along the lines of:
"A man goes to the temple of Poseidon, god of the sea, where he is shown a lot of offerings made by those that were saved from drowning. 'Ah', he says, 'but what about those men who did drown?'".

My point is, and I'll probably ruin the humorous part of the anecdote, that this story is incomplete. Why? Because we don't get to hear the reply from the local priest. I'm sure the priest can produce all kinds of reasons (or excuses) as to the wickedness of those who drowned (or their lack of offerings before going on board that last fateful voyage...). But the reply of the priest is omitted, and one may ask if rightly so. After all, this story is not supposed to deal with the relations between science (represented by skepticism) and theology (represented by the absent priest). It is just suppose to show that skepticism is important. Well, is that a complete answer? I'm not sure.

Could another example serve us better? Suppose the man from the anecdote went to the horse racing tracks and was shown a wall full of pictures of happy people. Would he not ask "where are all those who lost in their bets?". Would not the reasonable reply be "since they lost, they were disinclined to give thanks to the gambling authorities"? Would that constitute a good answer? How is it different from the answer of the priest?

Doubt has no real end and its beginning is in the first breath and the first sight. Doubt doesn't paralyze out of fear; it is the certainty we perceive or believe to exist that causes that hesitation.
So, this post's songs are extraordinary beautiful covers of a beautiful Radiohead song (from OK Computer). I don't believe in luck; I have cause enough to doubt it. But there are some things, like this song, I don't doubt. They exist.

John Frusciante - Lucky (live)
Warren Haynes -Lucky (from Live at Bonnaroo)

Warren Haynes' picture from AllAboutJazz.com.
John Frusciante's picture from the blog PenguinsKnowWhy

Song of the Morning: Best Not to Think About It

I've been thinking about tautologies all day long. Don't ask me why; they're not in any paper I'm currently working on (that I know of). So finally, on the train home from work, I started scrabbling a bit in my notebook. When I actually got home and checked what a tautology is, I had to make some adjustments in my thinking. Here's what I came up with:

First, let's get the (semi)-formal definition out of the away: in propositional logic a tautology is a propositional formula that is true under any possible valuation (also called a truth assignment or an interpretation) of its propositional variables (Wikipedia). Straight forward enough.
Example: the not so meaningful proposition "A or not-A" is a tautology (oddly enough, in propositional logic, truth, as it is manifested in a tautology, is meaningless as it adds nothing new to our knowledge of the world, as Wittgenstein pointed out; it is the contingent truth that may hold the more interesting daily 'truths').

OK. But if we translate it to the natural language, for, shall we say "it will either rain or it will not rain" things get complicated. According to the law of the excluded middle there are only two options: rain or no rain. However, I propose, that for the 'only' part of the sentence to work (and thus create a tautology) one has to have some sort of "knowledge of the world" (whether it is about rain, the possibility of rain or even, perhaps, the application of logical laws on the subject matter itself). If this is so, then a natural language tautology is not pure a-priori but requires some sort of empirical elements.

There are three possible and mutually exclusive conclusions I can draw:
1. The proposition I gave as an example is not a tautology because of the supposedly empirical element (it requires verification and contains the possibility of it being not true).
2. The proposition is a tautology. Natural language tautologies, unlike formal language tautologies, do contain an empirical grain.
3. There was an error in my deduction/thought process and there is no empirical grain in the proposition.

Considering how tired I am right now, I'm leaning towards option 3.

This post's song, not unlike previous posts, has some pun intended. Regardless of my sorry, layman doubling here though, it is a good song by a good band.

Athlete - Best Not to Think About It {MP3} (from Beyond the Neighbourhood)
Band picture from their artist's profile on Last.fm.

Song of the Morning: Hope For Us

Hobbes and Leibniz are in. No, I don't (just) mean it in the popular term; I was finally able to write a few more paragraphs in my biggest paper this year (so far). This only leaves me the 18th-21st centuries in Philosophy, main eastern and western religions and all of Psychology (with William James attached). After that, it's just a matter of completing the Gedankenexperiment, writing the introduction, conclusion and intra-connecting chapters and that's it. Four more papers to go. Yay.

This post's Song of the Morning is rather emo-inflected, as it were, but still catchy enough to wake up to. It's title and opening line have a particular appeal for me these days. So, as I move on to Kant (it's because of him that I'm writing this paper, after all), just keep in mind: there is hope for us.

The Jealous Sound - Hope for Us {MP3} (from Kill Them With Kindness)
Band picture from MTV.com.

Song of the Morning: No More Running Away

I haven't posted anything lately because I am consumed. Consumed by work, by school, by the many papers I have to submit.
Musically, I am very much devoured these days by Shearwater. I just can't stop playing Rook (the CD, not just the haunting song of a similar t name) in my mind or the stereo.

But it's not just that. All this strain is challenging me in ways I've not let myself feel or be exposed to. I admit - there are some PC games I use "cheats" to win. Have I "cheated" elsewhere in my life? Perhaps, mainly by avoiding it. But there comes a time when you just can't use "cheats". It does not work, and I don't mean just morally. It feels wrong.

Sure, the fear is great and yes, the anxiety is paralyzing. I am tired all the time and my body works out of automation as if I were a zombie (besides the brief unpleasant bodily reminders that I'm still alive). In a very deep sense I am not happy. So, usually at this point I'd get depressed. The thing is, I'm actually not depressed (and that is weird). So either I'm masochistic (possible), too busy or in denial to be depressed (also possible) or maybe I'm actually trying to deal with life and myself (could it be?). Am I beginning to grow up?

I didn't wake up with this post's featured song, unlike in previous posts. I actually woke up to Damien Rice's "Cold Water" (from the wonderful 'O'), specifically the lines "Lord, can you hear me now? Or am I lost?". But I'm going to sleep with another song. It's not because I turned optimistic (I'm not). The more I think about it the more it seems overly simplistic to live life as either "optimistic" or "pessimistic". As if that was all to life. It's because I need to face my fears, face my challenges and do my best, while I can. So, no more running away for me.

Air Traffic - "No More Running Away" {MP3} (from Fractured Life)
Air Traffic's picture from the lovely music review podcast site "Have You Heard".

Song of the Morning: Irreligious Ecstasy

What do you feel when you listen to music? When you experience it? When you sing along unafraid or uncaring if anyone will overhear you? When you dance alone in the dark?
What are you when you are one with it?

While what we may enjoy may be different and there's no account for taste (or is there?), the capacity to enjoy music in the deep sense seems to be a universal trait. At least, I hope it is. While some physical aspects of this feeling can be explained, you still have to get the right "connection" to it - there's a definite subjective element at work. Sometimes I'd like a certain song, other times I'd have enough of it; sometimes I'd discover (or re-discover) a song that has been playing at the background.

The special times are when I manage to let go of myself and connect directly (or as much as I can without the neighbors interfering or my co-workers throwing sharp objects at me) and feel it, flow with it, like being carried in a mighty current towards a roaring waterfall. When the song ends, I feel drained but happy (or, more usually for me, deeply saddened), and very much alive.

This post's musical jewels are affected by religion and religious experience. The first, "Baba Yetu" by Christopher Tin, is an adaptation of the Christian "The Lord's Prayer" in Swahili. The second is a segment from the Misa Criolla, a unique blending of South American Christian Mass/Gospel music by Ariel Ramírez.

Can the feelings of wonder, deep meditation and ecstasy be fully explained by science (here and here)? Even as a non-believer I have my doubts (or perhaps especially as a non-believer). I don't have to share in a belief in order to respect it and those who practice it, especially when they create beautiful music, be it as a part of their worship or not (strangely enough, Mr. Tin seems to be creating music in his sleep).

So, while I don't believe the existence of these feelings in themselves are any sort of evidence to the existence of God, I do believe it is a very strong evidence to the existence of a compassionate, creative and living Humanity, which is something we need to keep in mind just as much as the possible being of the Almighty.

Christopher Tin - "Baba Yetu" (from the PC game Civilization IV)
Ariel Ramírez - "Gloria" (from Misa Criolla)

Incoming Lull

It is quiet now;
That peace that was allotted to us continues to elude,
Elusive in its path, it's elucidating the eco-systems of our lives:
An intermingled puzzle of duty, denial and derivatives
So cunningly contrived as to demand its own object of belief
And so alarmingly complex as to register as unity.
But I know the storm is coming,
I feel the currents in the air;
And though throughout the tension's rising
It is in peace I find despair.

Song of the Morning: "Buildings & Food"

"Woke up this morning,
Got out of bed,
Feeling no pain move over my head;
Food in the kitchen And the coffee is hot -
If I believed in God I'd thank him a lot.
But I don't and that's OK
'Cause love means next to nothing when it's going your way
But I don't and that's OK
'Cause love means next to nothing when it's going your way."

The opening lines of "Buildings & Food" by Resplendent & Mike Downey (I hope I got them right).

Well, I'm agnostic myself, so maybe half a thanks will do. Anyway, this is a realistic good day song, if that means anything (recognizing that life is not perfect but worth living none the less).

Have a good one.

Listen: "Buildings & Food" - Resplendent/Mike Downey (MySpace)

Song of the Morning: Leviathan, Bound

I'm feeling kind of under the weather these past few days, so when I woke up today with a "Still is racing" going over and over in my head, it took me a few minutes. When I've finally recognized part of Shearwater's "Leviathan, Bound" chorus, I just had to keep still and let the magnificent song end before I could properly get up.

This "Song of the Morning" segment is about being haunted by these elusive songs, about being awaken to music playing in your head that you're not even aware of, music that speaks to you in the deepest possible way. Playing that song pretty much guarantees an experience even a sub-conscious as bizarre as mine will appreciate.

Shearwater - "Leviathan, Bound" (MP3), from the beautiful Rook.

Farewell, Dr. Pausch

Yesterday I've learned that Dr. Randy Pausch, among other and many things the deliverer of "The Last Lecture", has passed away on Friday. I am still somewhat in a state of shock as I feel strangely touched by him and his words.

As I've mentioned before, Dr. Pausch has been battling cancer for the last nine months or so, and has chosen to spend his time not only with his loving family but also trying to pass along his message of life and passion about life. During this time, he has been able to reach out to many people on the net and in "real life", providing much needed inspiration (here at Carnegie Mellon).

People, including myself, have the capacity to learn from mistakes, especially in light of inspirations that walk among us, sometimes unseen. We don't always do so. Perhaps we need something extra to make that shift, to leave behind our past and start living.

Wittgenstein said something along the lines of "Death is not one of Life's events. We do not experience Death. If we understand eternity to mean not a temporal duration but timelessness, then eternal life belongs to those who live in the present. Our lives are endless just like our vision, which is boundless" (rough translation from the Tractatus). If this is so, Randy Pausch is immortal.

Old Man River is coming to town

Exciting news! Old Man River, a.k.a . Ohad Rein, is coming to Tel Aviv for a couple of concerts. He's been performing and living in Australia for several years after traveling around the world.

He'll be performing at Levontin 7 on July 23rd and at Ha'Ozen Hashlishit (The Third Ear) on July the 28th (both in Tel Aviv).

For more details and updates see his MySpace.

Listen: Old Man River - Sunshine (MP3) from Good Morning.
Old Man River picture from his MySpace.

Song of the Morning: Tobias Fröberg

Do you know how it's like waking up with a song in your head? And then 'hear it' playing over and over, sometimes repeating certain parts of it or changing a little of the lyrics or the melody?

I'm sure you do. Psychology tells us it's a sign of stress or maybe parts of an unfinished dream. But what sort of dream can be truly 'finished' or 'realized' at all? Not a very satisfying one, I should think.

Anyway, I've decided to try to bring as close as possible a song a day, that musical thought I woke up with or permeated my morning routine (teeth brushing, shaving, gawking at the mirror trying to muster enough strength and patience for the day's labor... you know what I'm talking about).

So, today I woke up with Tobias Fröberg' "Grace", from his 2006 "For Elisabeth Wherever She Is". I believe it was inspired by my last night's watching of one of Babylon 5's last episodes and the love story it entailed.

P.S - a couple of mental notes that came up on my way to work:
1. Is there a similarity between how Frege and Marx view language and money, respectively? Is money a sort of a language, a device that needs to be 'cleaned up' and become formal and therefore truly communicable and understandable? Are the power relations (Foucault-like) in the economical-monetary-financial discourses around money similar to the power relations surrounding the use of language itself?

2. What is the difference between rationality and irrationality? Rationality is supposedly rooted in Logic, but what is Logic founded on? How do we know and feel that a logical statement is correct? Could it involve supposedly irrational elements such as feelings and emotions? If so, then the difference between rationality and irrationality would depend on the actions or behavior arising from the thoughts or feelings, not the thoughts or feelings themselves. In other words, it would have to be context dependent to identify an action as rational or irrational. Does that mean that the thoughts or feelings themselves are neutral in regards to rationality, that it's all how they come into practice?

Tobias Fröberg - Grace (MP3)

Featured Art: Sigur Rós' "Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust"

So, I've finally bought "með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust" ("with a buzz in our ears we play endlessly"), Sigur Rós' latest work. When I first heard the first track, "Gobbledigook", a few weeks ago (as a preview download from Sigurros.com), I was somehow reminded of The Dodos. Something in the life-filled frenzy of the beating of the drums or the excited vocals, I guess.

But to really appreciate the song you have to listen to the whole album, and the context there is a little different, much more Sigur Rós. A new direction, some say. Perhaps so. There's definite feeling of the "old" Sigur Rós in tracks like "Ára Bátur" for those who want to look for it, as though it has gone missing or lost. It hasn't. They've grown.

P.S - I've waited around for a bit before buying this CD as I was a little worried they've "changed". Fortunately, I saw this amazing clip of Sigur Rós, Björk + Ólöf Arnalds play "Gobbldigook" live at Náttúra in Iceland. After seeing their earnest enthusiasm there I simply had no choice... :-)

Sigur Rós - "Gobbledigook" (MP3)
CD cover from CDNOW.

For Kant

Is language the true barrier? Then why don't I write?
If thought is its own pretense, why does it delight?
Who am I to think me changed? The former or the latter?
And why is it so hard to keep myself from scatter?
Is Kant's frame enough or is it too little?
How can I go into this in any great detail?
"Sapere Aude!" he exclaimed,
And are the rest of us condemned?
The categories are our judges,
Juries quick in there to find us,
Human beast or Human being?
What is thought? What is meaning?
Verdict accepted and denied,
On time's anathema's we must glide,
Seeking no substance but our own,
To transcend that we had grown.


On a personal note: grow up, don't grow old.

Travelling Without Moving

I hear the distant rumble,
The dusk sky seem so bland,
Quiet in this weary breeze
Of a long afternoon.

It is coming!
No need to place my ear against the dry soil;
The itch has finally caught on,
Catching wild fire at the remnants of my heart,
Captured in that endless struggle between hope and peace.

The calling is within, now perhaps more than without,
A silent reminder of what never was,
As it slips its thorny caress around my breast,
My nakedness bathed in blues and crimsons,
I lie awake, awaiting the tomorrows.

The caravan, long delayed,
Still echoes its slow wheels,
Those chrome tinted spokes of promise,
Crushing underneath a yellow road afield,
Landing at the appointed gate until dawn.

For morning brings the crystal quality of dread,
That wanton old faithful,
And pondering remains, as I greet the new sun,
Where is my pilgrimage setting? How many roads?

The Invasion (a methodical pause)

I've scribbled this silly little ditty for Robert Lee Brewer's poetry prompt on the topic of "Invasion". It's not surprisingly titled: "The Invasion".

I was there the night they came,
I searched they sky, I saw their plane;
Its form seemed to wildly shine
As it disgorged those conquerors of mine.

Look over yonder, behold their hair!
I cannot help but dare to stare,
The atmosphere suddenly electrified
And their presence there intensified.

I told Parker, and he could not believe:
"This is our time, our time to live!"
But even we, poor boys, had no clue
When we saw the British through.

Inner Voices

Those inner voices - what are they? How do we relate to them? How do they relate to us? What
kind of existence do they have, if any?

By inner voices I mean those quasi-collections of thoughts and emotions that act as representations of 'Significant Others' in our mind. Those we consult with, those who tell use to do this and not that, those who we imagine what they'd say and think about our choice of clothes. I'm not talking about a modern Jiminy Cricket or a Freudian super-ego, nor the detached voices that often plague a schizophrenia patient. Those voices represent others who we care about but they do so by being a part of ourselves, by being our own creation. They are an integral part of the human way to internalize others (and so play a pivotal social and ethical role within us) while also manifesting and testing desires and thoughts of our own (thus enhancing our creativity, our sense of order and our cohesive-seeming Self). Sometimes, they show that we are not alone in the dark.

But how is this phenomenon called? Why do some people get 'internalize' and not others? Are all
the representations the same (in essence, power, function, internalization status)? Where do they
fit in in relation to our 'own' internal monologue, our own main 'Stream of Consciousness'?

I'm looking for some answers.

Keeper of the Hollowed Tome

The empty pages are much sought after
(As the stain of steely ink does offer):
They keep our lore folded crisp
Lest recollection tend to lisp,
And future pass distorted truth
Limiting enlightened sooth,
Filling young with fancied notions,
Watch their heads! Their frantic motions!

Away with you, chars of black -
Let us not in this task grow slack,
The pictures tell a thousand words
Of plebs and snakes and mighty lords
Blessings, curses, all combine
In this sacred valentine -
Bloody language there to smear
an arc wide - and simply - disappear.

Not a Haiku

The leaves rustle softly,
Trees whisper in idiosyncrasy
And the brilliant shadow approaches.
I murmur angrily,
Clasping my good eye
(For the bad one is faulty -
It sees truth now:
Flickering along the edges of reason,
Resonating and dissipating in this hot summer breeze).
Where should I look for desire?
It has abandoned me at last;
At last I'm lifeless,
The least leafless in this long, oh too long autumn
That lasts and lasts,
Skewing like some Marxist's hopes
Around Christmas.
The mating season is over,
I limp away from its remains,
A hollow golden pond
And not a picnic blanket to spare.

What is Man anyway?

I'm trying to write a proposal for a seminary paper for school and this is what I came up with so far:

Kant asked four major questions in his anthropological philosophy (or was it a philosophical anthropology?):

1. What can I know?

2. What must I do?

3. What can one hope for?

4. What is Man (which can be translated, I think, into 'What is a Human Being')?

Our query begins with Kant's fourth question and from which it expands it to ask if the technology that has been developed requires a significant change in the perception of 'What is Man'. This second question suggests an existing connection or some sort of correlation between technology and Man's essence (if one exists) or some other such answer to Kant's question.

This begs the question of what kind of technological change (quantitative? qualitative? both? neither?) should be in order for the perception of what Man is to change as well. An avalanche of questions seems to follow: What is the perception of what Man is today? What precisely do we mean by 'Technology'? Have such changes in technology and Man occurred before? Can these changes even be discerned (provided they exist)?

Each of these important questions should be asked in its own specific scientific, religious, cultural, economical, technological, social, psychological (and who knows how many more categories) context and frame of reference.

Given these questions and different possible answers and angles, can we provide a single momentous answer that would be both personal (as something I would have to connect and relate to) and general (as to aspire to get to the truth or truths of the matter)? This is also a methodological question, of course. Let us provide a methodological answer.

We will use a sort of thought experiment and examine a Human process that embodies within it several of these frames of reference all rolled into one. This is possible, to some degree, using literature and history. Let us imagine then a specific change in technology and observe its effects on Humanity.

A more than adequate example for this can be found in the 'Dune' saga by Frank Herbert. According to the story, a radical change in technology has occurred that has eliminated the use of 'Thinking Machines' - there are no more computers that are as at least as advanced as what we have today (this indicates in fact two changes in technology: the use of 'Thinking Machines' and the eradication of the same machines, but we will focus here on the second change and its effects and try to isolate them).

Given this immense change in technology then, how will (or did) it affect Humanity and the answer to 'What is Man'? This question may be answered by first listing the Human reaction, changes and adaptations through the years and next by analyzing the said behaviors and attitudes that were observed and extrapolating from there as to what is the Human image they wished to preserve (in essence, their answer to 'what is Man?').

To begin this arduous task, we will list in general the categories of Human responses to the technological shift which we can observe:

1. Social-Political.

2. Religious-Philosophical.

3. Technological-Economical.

A specific type of technology, that has many kinds and manifestations, can then be used as further example and a sort of prism by which we can learn about the Human response. By this, we mean the myriad of cognitive technologies developed to compensate for the lack of artificial cognition and to further explore the Human potential.

Lastly, these various Human actions (such as the construction of specific socio-political structures) and abilities (such as the cognitive technologies) that were put forth and created in relation or conjunction with the radical change in technology will be analyzed. This analysis, we hope, would bring us closer to understanding of the Human motif that stands at their base and runs through their very core and is the answer (to the perhaps un-answerable in any direct means) question of 'What is Man'.

This analysis will be performed from a philosophical point of view (designed to withhold judgment as much as possible but also directed to perceive and seek the hidden meanings in the Human behavior and thought) and be based upon the works of Kant, Heidegger, Foucault, Popper and others.

Featured Artist(s): The Dodos

Featured Artist(s): Yeasayer

A Lost Summer

It is known: what is is,
Their capital is gay Paris;
Children grow and up
No reason for it to stop.

The tiny country full of war
Fake humility drags on more
Rooted deep in the baseline
No less than comedy divine.

He came and went and locked the door
And nothing was just like before.
The colors swirl, no ounce I gain,
The touch of skin I now disdain.

A summer lost, so full of trifles
"You shall have no play of rifles"
Promised peace and chocolates there
By the desk in the back room where...

What happened? Do I dare?
How deep in the dark I stare?
A mustached man, a flash of pain
"The secret's ours, our domain".

Featured Artist: Amit Erez

I've known Amit Erez for more than two years now, thanks to the introduction of a friend. I consider new (and good) music one of the best gifts that I can receive and it certainly was like that in this case.

I admit, I do not go to as many shows as I would have liked, but I did attend a few of his. I especially like the intimate acoustic performances. It has a feeling of something new and fresh, yet with mature content and presentation.

This isn't really a music blog. I'm not sure what kind of a blog is it anyway. I don't really know how to analyze the music, how similar (or not) it is to Elliott Smith's or others. I believe Amit Erez is an artist in his own right and does not need to draw constant comparisons to his peers. All I can do is convey my feelings and sentiments. Saying that, I would have liked his latest CD (titled Amit Erez) to include some new material, much like his wonderful EP (Black Light). Anyway, here's to the future.

Picture from the official MySpace here.
Clever & Strong (Live at the Barby, 6.2.2007)