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dustedmagazine · 1 year ago

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Listed: Tørrfall

Photo by Iver Findlay

Tørrfall are a Norwegian trio who've been playing together since (at least) 2020, recorded their self-titled debut live in August 2021, but just released it this past March. Vocals and synthesizer are provided by Nils Erga (Noxagt, Burning Axis), bass by Kristoffer Riis (Golden Oriole, Staer), and drums by Thore Warland (Golden Oriole, Staer, Burning Axis). Dusted’s Ian Mathers summed up their self-described “psychedelic water music” as “a bad-trip, submarine cousin of the Necks’ Drive By.” Here, all three members talk about 10 releases that could have influenced the Tørrfall record.

Ivor Cutler and Linda Hirst — “Women of the World” (Rough Trade, 1983)

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Nils: The Norwegian broadcasting company, NRK, used to have excellent radio DJs. I believe I only heard this song once upon release, and as a nine-year-old boy, I never caught who sang it, what it was called, or what the lyrics were all about. And then it was gone! But the impossibly catchy melody of the chorus – the song is essentially one single mantra-like, cascading chorus – never left me, and as I grew older, I would replay it in my head repeatedly, hundreds and hundreds of times. In 1999, Jim O'Rourke did a cover version, which I accidentally got to hear, and I was stunned. There it was again, finally! That song!

Cocteau Twins — The Spangle Maker (4AD, 1984)

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Nils: Growing up in the Stavanger region in the 1980s, the UK was never far away. Back then, you could hop on the ferry to Newcastle or fly directly to London or Aberdeen (you'd be there in an hour or so). My older sister brought this back from one of her trips to the Thatcher Empire. Back then, I loved all that 4AD stuff, but in hindsight, Cocteau Twins were the best of all the then-current acts she so generously introduced me to. And Elisabeth Fraser never sounded more lost, more gothic, more out-of-this-world than on this one (the Treasure LP that came out the same year is rather wonderful too). Dream pop, indeed.

Basic Channel et al. — Any 12" under any moniker (Basic Channel, 1990s)

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Nils: I can't remember the first Basic Channel-related 12" that I heard, but I remember becoming instantly hooked – what is this sound? – so I started collecting everything I could find during those early days of the Internet. When listening to this music now, whether it's Main Street, Maurizio, Basic Channel or Rhythm & Sound (preferably loudly and on big speakers), I still feel like time is slowly dissolving. Or it bends and can no longer be trusted. And often, continuing down this path of truly psychedelic techno, I still find myself lost in the strangely lit woods of Wolfgang Voigt's late 90s GAS records, which are equally transcendental.

Steely Dan — Gaucho (MCA, 1980)

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Nils: Hey Nineteen! I first heard this record in my early twenties, and back then, the whole Steely Dan vibe didn't appeal much, nor did it make much sense. But I knew they were named after a William Burroughs-invented "artefact", so I gathered there had to be something there. It turns out there was, in spades (check out Donald and Walter's open letters to celebrities whose careers they worry about for further reading). Anyway, Steely Dan is now my favourite band for watching waves roll by from the balcony, closely followed by early ZZ Top. And this is their magnum opus, in my humble opinion. The Royal Scam and Aja aren't far off, though.

Armando Sciascia — After the End (Suite For String Orchestra & Synthesizer) (Vedette Records, 1971)

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Kristoffer: Armando Sciascia, the Abruzzese custodian of the whole-tone scale. While some of his output during the 60s and 70s is admittedly quite stylized with its particular and sometimes overstated tonality, this album strikes a balance between classical principle and impious mischief, while being texturally tantalizing with its fine Italian blend of acoustic and synthetic arrangements. A bit hard to come by, although some of the tracks were available on the 1972 compilation Infini alongside Fabio Fabor on the slightly more obtainable Musique Pour L'Image imprint.

Camille Sauvage — Fantasmagories (Editions Montparnasse 2000, 1974)

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Kristoffer: In some ways, Camille Sauvage was a French counterpart to Armando Sciascia, but with a markedly different sense of melody all his own. Sauvage composed some richly decorated harmonic showpieces that characterize this period in his discography, either under his real name or one of several pseudonyms, notably Eric Framond—and the orchestration was almost always over-the-top with shrill Edda Dell'Orso-esque vocals and screeching brass that nearly couldn't contain itself. On Fantasmagories, however, he shows a more nocturnal and contemplative side, really damp and littered with fragments of this and that.

Marcos Valle — Vento Sul (Odeon, 1972)

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Kristoffer: While there is no shortage of Brazilian contenders with Edu Lobo, Gilberto Gil, Caetano Veloso, Os Mutantes and the lot, I regularly return to this one. It's Marcos Valle's best in my opinion, and there's not much more to be said about it. A really strong and playful MPB album.

Philip Glass — Music with Changing Parts for Ensemble (Chatham Square Editions, 1971)

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Thore: The relentless electric organ stuff that Philip Glass did in the late 60s and early 70s I really like. This one is with saxophones, trumpet, violin, flutes and voices.

Boyd Rice — Boyd Rice (Mute, 1981)

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Thore: Hysterical and also quite calming, the loops never get boring.

Ike Yard — Ike Yard (A Second) (Factory America, 1982)

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Thore: Minimal and catchy, I love this one. Seems to be a timeless classic.

#dusted magazine #listed #torrfall #ivor cutler and linda hirst #cocteau twins #basic channel #steely dan #armando sciascia #camille sauvage #marcos valle #Philip Glass #boyd rice #ike yard

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tinycaprisun · 4 years ago

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a song about it raining somewhere else

title: a song about it raining somewhere else characters: chuck taylor x trent beretta word count: 3822 part: 1/1 warnings: mild cursing, and like that’s kinda it? maybe mild angst? but also i’m a baby and it becomes fluff by the end? a/n: howdy, this is not another i’m back i’m back piece as much as it honestly is. no, see this time- this is actually a gift! 2 days ago was @trentjinshi’s birthday and i wanted to write him something! so i sat down for like 6 hours with my goopy goblin gay brain and spit out this obvious magnum opus. so, like, don’t hate it please. also hugest happy birthday to emil again!! yeehaw... i’ve technically already sent this to u

You know, of all days to have the soul crushing realization that you’ve secretly been in love with your best friend, Trent should have expected it to happen on Valentine’s Day.

The man had garbage luck anyways, and good things seemingly never happened to him. So when Chuck animatedly told him he had a date that night with some girl, Trent’s heart shouldn’t have blown apart like he had been shot. Sure, he pretended to be supportive of his buddy, returning his radiant smile despite the effect never reaching his eyes, And yeah, he wished him all the best, telling the taller man he hoped it went well.

But did Trent mean any of that? Fuck no! He was dying on the inside, mourning the loss of a relationship and love he didn’t even know he wanted! Perhaps he should have considered himself lucky that he didn’t start bawling his eyes out on the spot. The New Yorker had a tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve, so the crying really was not out of the question at that moment. But he contained his feelings somehow, moving on through the rest of that afternoon like he was trudging through a snowstorm. Slow, cold, and slowly dying from the inside out.

So that led him here, sitting in his car as the rain started to come down, refusing to turn the damn thing on. He didn’t want to go back to his hotel room. Because if he did, it would remind him of the obvious. He went home alone tonight.

Chuck wasn’t alone. His friend had a probably beautiful person with a perfect personality sitting across from him at a fancy restaurant. A person who wasn’t him. Why couldn’t Trent be his perfect date? He would laugh at his jokes, softly hold his hand as they walked in from the parking lot, pull his chair out for him, admire him like he was the sun-

A harsh banging came from his left, rhythmically tapping against the glass of his car window in time with the rain drops. Trent’s head jerked up from where it had defeatedly slumped against the steering wheel to see who was trying to get his attention.

It was a security guard, holding an umbrella in one hand and wavering him off with another, politely telling him to leave the premises as the arena building they were at was closing. To be honest, getting a ticket from not leaving and instead rotting in that parking lot forever sounded like a far better time than he was having. But, he didn’t have a choice. Story of his life.

Trent started up his car, quickly leaving off into the vast night with only his thoughts to keep him company. And that was rapidly becoming annoying. The singular thing on his mind was one person, and how all this time, his feelings were so obvious. Every time he even glanced in his friend’s direction his heart rate would spike. Before now, he had chalked that up to coincidence or - considering it was Trent and how his body loved to torture him - underlying health conditions. Evidently, it was neither of those things.

One would think he would catch on to his festering crush sooner; considering he thought the entire world of Chuck and whenever he had to go more than a few days without seeing him, he would get a weird sense of longing to be back in his presence, but nothing ever wanted to work out that way. Life thought it would be much funnier if Trent felt like he was being ripped apart at the seams by a simple sentence.

Between the still processing of what it even meant to have a crush on your best friend, and knowing that right now he was out with some other person having the time of his life, Trent was not feeling great as he drove down the freeway. Grumbling under his breath, he flicked the radio on to fill the car with something other than his problems. A song the brunette had never heard before crackled to life, being about part of the way through.

By the time we get there, everybody will be drunk The chairs will be on tables and the band will be unplugged We're gonna look real good, but we're gonna look real rude I'm sorry I'm not sorry that I'm-

Fucking perfect! The last person to mess with the radio in Trent’s car was Chuck, and bastard left it on one of his stupid country stations. Trent didn’t even like country music! That didn’t stop him, however, from a few days ago when they were driving from city to city and let Chuck put on whatever he liked, even if it was something he was going to hate. He would make tiny sacrifices like that all the time for his partner, because he knew it would earn him one of those sunlit smiles. Trent really would do anything to make Chuck happy, and had been since they met.

Late to the party with you Oh, who needs confetti? We're already falling into the groove And who needs a crowd when you're happy at a party for two? The world can wait 'Cause I'm never late to the party if I'm late to the party with you

It... It was a love song?

“Throw me off a fucking bridge.” Trent mumbled to himself as he exited an off ramp. Seriously, who out there was tormenting him and making him have possibly the worst day ever? What omnipotent being did he piss off? He thought he was an alright dude, not getting into other people’s business and sort of keeping to himself. Most days he made an attempt to be somewhat nice to others and never did any of that vile or cruel shit. And yet, he was cursed to drive home while listening to a love song in a genre that he hated, and only helped to remind him more of his best friend.

Let's promise when we get in that we'll try to get right out Fake a couple conversations, make the necessary rounds These kinda things just turn into "Who's leaving here with who?" But I just want 'em all to see me come in late to the party with you

Wasn’t that a funny line. Wanting others to see the person you’re with because of how much you loved them? Trent understood that. Whenever he would go anywhere with Chuck, he would always want people to know he was there with him- whether he realized it or not.

He could talk for hours about him. It could be the simple telling of a funny story, or gushing about how good he was in the ring. Or how great of a friend he was. That made Trent wonder about what Chuck would be like if they were together. His mind wandered, dreaming up scenarios and infinite possibilities as he pulled into his hotel’s parking garage.

The musing didn’t stop when he killed the engine, happily ending that fucking song that was starting to piss him off with how cute it was. Trent pushed himself out of the car, gathering his singular bag from the trunk and wandering inside through the rain. Which, if anyone was curious, was even worse than it was when he left. It was coming down in buckets now, being slung into the New Yorker’s face by the wind.

Checking in was easy enough, having the briefest of conversations with the man at the desk who happened to have a thick southern accent.

Chuck had an accent, but only when he drank a lot. It took about 3 and a half beers for it to come out, but by that point he didn’t care all that much to hide it. He wouldn’t be trashed, as he was a pretty solid drinker and had made putting strong shit back a hobby over the last few years. Trent knew exactly how it sounded, though. A smooth Kentucky accent that always caused him to punctuate the last word of his sentences and pronounce certain things differently. Never anything like “y’all” or something southern like that, after all Chuck wasn’t that dime store cowboy they worked with.

The thing Trent remembered the most about Chuck’s accent was how he said his name. He would draw it out, almost like he was whining, except it was low in his voice and always accompanied by a wide grin. One that’s toothy like Cheshire Cat, and annoyingly sweet like bubblegum. Trent idly wondered if he tasted like bubblegum too, but the thought turned vivid fantasy was interrupted for a moment by the elevator reaching his floor.

The brunette slowly approached his room, still partially entranced by the ideas he had created in his mind as he unlocked his door and slipped in. From there, it felt like he wasn’t even alive anymore. Not in a morbid sense, but as in he wasn’t participating in the concept of reality at that moment. Trent was so disconnected from his actions, it was almost as though he was outside of his body and looking in from somewhere else. So much so, that when he snapped out of his revere from his phone buzzing, he was lying in bed wearing only his boxers.

Not that what was on his phone was of any importance to him. All Trent saw were notifications for things he didn’t care about, the only thing sticking out was a short text from Orange sending him more condolences over his current ��issue”. Damn, he was acting like someone had died, not his friend’s heart being broken. Trent didn’t bother responding, tossing the device back on the bedside table and rolling over to face away from it.

The alarm clock on the other stand read “10:17 p.m.”, blinking at him like the piece of shit was broken. It also only now occurred to Trent that he had never turned the lights on while he was basically astral projecting. So he was bathed in darkness, with the only illumination being that digital clock and the street lights below outside the window.

Was he going to fall asleep at a respectable time? Because deep in his bones he could feel the shroud of tiredness creeping through him from all of the emotional energy he drained today. And with that, Trent grabbed one of the unused pillows and wrapped himself around it, cuddling it tightly and not bothering to get under the bed covers.

Maybe if he tried hard enough, Trent could pretend the pillow was something else. --

Who in the hell was knocking at his door at - the New Yorker stopped his angry brain tirade to peek at the clock again - 11:53 at night? He had only gotten to sleep an hour and it was cut short by who knew what. If this was Orange coming to tell him he had broken another hotel microwave by “forgetting to take the metal spoon out of his mac and cheese”, Trent was going to fucking kill him.

Getting up from where he lay, Trent stumbled blearily across the room to the door. In those few seconds, it processed with him that his hair must have come untied while he was sleeping because it was messily draped around his shoulders. Among that, he was still only dressed in boxers, riding rather low on his hips. Maybe he had a restless sleep even though it was quick?

He didn’t care what he looked like though as he slowly pulled the door open with a yawn and blinked from the harsh light flooding in from the hallway. Trent prepared to open his mouth and berate his shorter friend when he heard a sniffle come from in front of him.

Chuck was standing on the other side of the doorway, soaking wet from the rain. By the look on his face, it seemed as though he had been crying as well, with red eyes and a running nose. His eyes didn’t meet Trent’s as he all but whispered, “H-hey, man.”

Did the longer haired brunette care that his friend was ice cold and drenched from head to toe? No. That was why without words, he dragged his friend into the room and hugged him tightly, letting the hotel door slip closed on its own. Chuck didn’t need to be told twice to hug back, nearly crushing Trent from the strength of his shaking arms.

They stayed like that for a good while, with Trent rubbing soothing circles into his back and letting him rest his head on his shoulder when he began to weep again. That was before he slowly drew back, silently taking Chuck’s hand and guiding him to his bed so he could sit. Trent grabbed the comforter and wrapped it around his friend, figuring he could just use a blanket later when he needed to sleep.

“I... didn’t even tell you- what’s wrong..?” murmured the Kentuckian, slouching in on himself and bringing his knees up so they were closer to his chest. He must have been really cold. Trent paused for a moment, looking with a pained yet sympathetic smile.

“Don’t need to. You’re upset, and I gotta fix that.” He wasn’t sure who hurt him, or even what, but just let it be known he was going to destroy whatever it was.

“Well, uh, t-thank you?”

“Yeah, dude. I-” Love you. “Care about you. You’re my friend and shit. Hurts to see you cry.” With that, Trent carefully maneuvered around Chuck and hopped off the bed to go rifle through his clothes for something dry he could wear. And- probably some pants for himself. When he first opened the door, he couldn’t help but notice Chuck gave him the slightest look up and down, with his cheeks going red afterwards. Trent assumed it was only because he was cold, and the warmth from his bedroom had fucked with his internal body temperature.

While digging through his bags trying to find some of the clothes he always packed for his friend - and if it were any other day than today, Trent would have told you it was because he was just being a nice guy. He knew better than that now. - Chuck began to talk again. “Date ditched me...”

“They didn’t show up?”

Chuck sighed. “No, she did. But- when her ex came around... She would’a rather been with him.”

Trent grabbed the extra clothes and stood, turning around to face Chuck who was staring off into the corner. Considering how already destroyed his heart already was from earlier, he was a bit surprised it still had a few more pieces that could shatter at this sight. Coming back over, he set the pile to one side of him, then sat back down on the other. “Chuck...”

“I don’t know what I expected? Every girl, or hell- every guy, I’ve ever tried to date has never worked out for me. I don’t get it.” Oh, Trent should not have been so happy to hear those words. Well, he wasn’t happy to hear most of them, and was hurting for his friend, but two of them in particular stuck out to him like a sore thumb. Every guy. That meant Chuck had been on dates with men. That meant, even though it was fucked up to think about this at the moment, that Trent still had a chance.

“You just haven’t found the right one, man. None of those assholes from before deserve you anyways.” Chuck brought his gaze back over to Trent, eyes glassy and expression- disbelieving. His hair was matted to his head, still wet in some places, but mostly stuck in small spots to his forehead. Everything else about him was still about the same caliber as that, slowly drying and clinging to parts of his body that weren’t being disrupted by the comforter.

“Or maybe I didn’t deserve them...” Something- came over Trent then. There wasn’t a word for the mix of emotions he felt upon hearing that. But what he could feel were his hands taking either side of his best friend’s face and holding his head up to where he would look him in the eyes.

“That’s not true, you and I both know that. Anyone in the world would be lucky to have you.”

Chuck honest to god laughed at that and tilted his head. “Name one person.”

Fuck. For all intents and purposes, the answer he desperately wanted to give was ‘Me’, but that never came out of his mouth. Instead, it was like Trent was suspended in fear, unable to say what he wanted for the thought of being rejected. Or somehow even worse, him thinking it was a joke and getting upset with him. So, Trent said nothing, trying to think of a different response that would be true, but didn’t give himself away.

That was the nail in the coffin, though. Chuck took his silence as an answer, unable to provide a single person who could possibly want to be with him. The other man shook Trent’s hands away from his face, hurt welling up in his eyes with a grimace as he moved to grab the clothes that were gotten for him.

“See,” Chuck hobbled to a standing position, holding the clean garments close to his sodden chest like it was going to protect him from the pain he was feeling. Trent, just say something, anything, he yelled to himself whilst watching Chuck shuffle over to the bathroom and pull the door open. He flicked his eyes down to the floor for a moment before coming back up and locking onto Trent’s. “No one could ever love me...”

“Chuck-” Trent was too late, Chuck had already disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. And God damn it, his stomach had sunk to the depth of his being, twisting and turning like he was going to be sick. He should have said something. Even if it meant ruining the only thing he really had left to care about. There was his job, his other friends, his family and that; and while they meant a lot to him as well, he truly believed in that moment, and probably for some while now, that Chuck was his world.

As goofy and kind of bullshit as it was to hear, that’s what he felt like. That this guy he’s known for a good chunk of his life was his sun, moon, and every star in the sky. And Trent knew he’s never felt that way about another person. He knew that no other person on this Earth - or fuck, any other planet - could beam at him when they pull an upset and win a match together like he could. No one else made his chest feel warm whenever they complimented him quite the same way that Chuck did. There wasn’t a soul who had the same giggle, the wit, the determination, the personality- fucking any of it. No one had quite what his best friend had, and that was why he loved him.

Trent had no idea how long Chuck was going to be in there, or if he was ever going to come out. Knowing him, he could stay in there all night, not wanting to face the world again- let alone his friend. Even still, he got up from where he was and placed himself a few paces away from his bathroom door. Within his head, he hyped himself up, vowing that no matter if he got scared or felt like everything was going to go wrong, the New Yorker was going to tell him the truth.

Approximately 4 minutes later - if you asked Trent it felt like 10 years - Chuck finally emerged from his hiding place, dressed in some of his friend’s clothes and with shockingly drier hair. Not sure why he was so surprised that he had run a towel through it or something, but that didn’t matter. The taller man seemed confused as to why Trent was standing at the door, but before he could ask what was happening, Trent said, “I do.”

Chuck squinted at him with a, “What?” but it came out choked off and shaky, like he wasn’t prepared to speak.

“You said no one could ever love you, and that’s not true. Because I love you,” He wanted to protest, but now that Trent was talking, he couldn’t stop. “And I didn’t realize it until today, but I seriously am so in love with you that I don’t think I could picture my life without you. You mean everything to me and I would do anything for you just to see your beautiful smile or hear you say my name. And I know it sounds like I’m lying and that I’m trying to make you feel better, but I’m not. If I think about it, I feel like I’ve loved you forever but never realized it, and I wish I could have known sooner. Because you need to know that you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I would be the luckiest guy in the world to even have a chance with you-”

“Trent-”

“I love the way you purposefully send me a string of those stupid emojis over text because you know it annoys me. I love how you can make anyone feel better with just one smile and your passion for loving others. I love how much you love animals and how every dog you see, you consider kidnapping-'' Trent had become so caught up in his declaration that he hadn’t noticed his friend had moved from in front of him and Chuck’s lips were on his.

Before he could even do anything; not even get a gasp at the sudden action, Chuck was already pulling away, breathing as if he had just run a mile. His face was bright red and his hands were holding either of Trent’s arms as he searched his face for a reaction. Or anything really.

“I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” It felt as though Trent was living in one of those shitty romantic comedies he secretly liked to watch, because he was the one who cut Chuck off while speaking with an somehow even more desperate kiss. He felt him respond almost instant, bringing one of his hands up to Trent’s face to cup it gently as his own arms latched cautiously onto Chuck’s hips. And that was where they stayed, for who knew how long, but every second of it was exactly where they wanted to be.

You know, of all days to have the life-changing realization that you’re secretly in love with your best friend, Trent - and Chuck for that matter - hadn’t expected it to happen on (the day after) Valentine’s Day.

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famous-aces · 5 years ago

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Khalil Gibran

Who: جبران خليل جبران‎ (Jubrān Khalīl Jubrān)

What: Author and Artist

Where: Lebanese (active in Europe, the Middle East and the US)

When: January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931

(image description: Gibran as a middle aged man it is a faded black and white photo. He is a tan man with a receding hairline, strong eyebrows, a mustache, deep eyes, and a cleft chin. End ID)

Gibran is extremely popular in the Arabic speaking world and a national hero in his native Lebanon. Despite only having periods of popularity in the US (notably in the 1960s and 1970s) he is the third best selling poet in history (#1 is William Shakespeare, #2 is Lao-Tzu) and has around 20 monuments and memorials world wide dedicated to him from Montreal to Morocco, Buenos Aires to Bucharest. He is hailed as one of the founders Arabic prose poetry. He was also a visual artist (although he is far less known for that).

He wrote extensively in both English and Arabic and became a Lebanese nationalist later in life. His works include (English then Arabic) The Prophet (his magnum opus translated into 100 different languages and never out of print, published originally in English) (1923), The Broken Wings / Al-Ajniha al-Mutakassira (1912), Spirit Brides / Ara’is al-muruj (1906), Sand and Foam / Ramal wa Zabad (1926), The Madman (1918, published in English), and Rebellious Spirits / Al-Arwah al-Mutamarrida (1908)

(image description: Gibran's self portrait from 1911. It shows Gibran in front of a crystal ball with another person behind him. He looks into the "camera". He looks very much like his older self but with more hair and a slightly thinner mustache. End ID)

Probable Orientation: Aroace

Gibran had a few close relationships with women, once thought to be sexual now seem to platonic (assumed sexual because of the genders of the friends). His most notable was with philanthropist and educator Mary Elizabeth Haskell, who was his closest ally for over 20 years. Their relationship was odd, part business, part pleasure, she even served as his sometimes editor and seems to have been infatuated with him. He loved her as well but just how is a little hazy. He did not seem to be interested in either sex or romance from her or anyone else, simply companionship. They did get engaged, but he broke it off unconsumated. Indeed when he did so he voiced that he wanted to remain her most intimate companion, but not in the way that marriage implied. It is 100% a QPR without those words. There are assertions he slept around, but no names have surfaced in my searches, just the assumption that he must have.

Apparently when she tried to take things further he told her he was not "sexually minded" which she documented in her diary and he further turned down the offer of intercourse. There are some who assert he had other affairs or was leading Haskell on so he could further use her for funding, that he was a heartless monster who manipulated a woman in love with him. It seems like a very unfair view of him. By all accounts he seemed to care about Haskell deeply platonically and it seems like the general accusation that aro/aces/aroaces are heartless and unfeeling with an added level of anti-immigrant sentiment, this lying brown heathen breaking the heart of a good white woman. In other words I would say this is just prejudice against him.

In how he talks about his relationship with Haskell it is very obviously a QPR and his "love letters" confirm that. He did love her, just not romantically.

Quotes:

"My age [she was 10 years older than he was] is simply the barrier raised between us and the blunder of our marrying. Not my age constitutes the objection — but the fact that for Kahlil there waits a different love from that he bears me — an apocalypse of love — and that shall be his marriage. His greatest work will come out of that — his greatest happiness, his new, full life."

- Mary Elizabeth Haskell when the engagement was broken (sounds like the SAM)

"You have the great gift of understanding, beloved Mary. You are a life-giver, Mary. You are like the Great Spirit, who befriends man not only to share his life, but to add to it. My knowing you is the greatest thing in my days and nights, a miracle quite outside the natural order of things."

- Khalil Gibran in a letter to Mary Elizabeth Haskell, 1914

"The most wonderful thing, Mary, is that you and I are always walking together, hand in hand, in a strangely beautiful world, unknown to other people. We both stretch one hand to receive from Life — and Life is generous indeed."

-Khalil Gibran to Mary Elizabeth Haskell, 1912 (they have a unique relationship from everyone else. Intimate and platonic.)

"[their whole friendship was] a continued intercourse.”

- Khalil Gibran to Mary Elizabeth Haskell when she offered to have sex with him, recorded in her diary. Their platonic relationship was as important to him as he assumed sex must be.

(image description: a sculpture/monument of Gibran in his home town of Bsharri at the museum dedicated to him. It sees some 50,000 guests a year. The royalties from his books were willed to the town. The sculpture is an enormous dark stone image of Gibran's face in a rough hewn pillar it set up against a hillside. End ID)

#asexual #lgbtq #queer #ace #history #aromantic #aro #authors #20th century #artists #middle east #lebanon #khalil gibran

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tomasorban · 6 years ago

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Malkuth

Malkuth, מלכות, means ‘kingdom’. It is the tenth, bottom-most sphere on the Tree of Life. On the grandest scale it represents the entire physical universe, populated with galaxies beyond number. On a lessor scale it represents our galaxy, and lessor yet, the tiny spec of a planet, physical Earth. Scaled down even further it represents yours and my physical self-conscious body’s sphere of sensations. This is where we start, and here we are. Within the physical body is where we begin our Road of Return. It is in this same body – or another after reincarnation – where we complete the Great Work. If physical transition comes before we complete the work this round, we pick up where we left off in our spiritual work and continue with the new physical vehicle, again and again, until we mature consciously and cooperate toward reunification.

In the Sepher Yetzirah (Book of Formation), the tenth path, sphere, is named שכל ממזהיר, Sakel Mezhir, the ‘Resplendent Intelligence’. Mezhir is equally translated as ‘brilliant, shining, glowing’ and other descriptions along this line. Arthur E. Waite’s commentary: “...because it is exalted above every head and has its seat in Binah; it enlightens the fire of all lights and emanates the power of the principle of forms.” Binah represents the ‘substance’ aspect or mode of the One Thing. That One Thing is the Limitless Light, Ain Suph Aur, which comprises everything we can possibly sense. Therefore, Malkuth, that is, the physical universe, and our physical bodies, is made entirely of that same Light Substance. Malkuth “has its seat in Binah”. When we personally come full into The Self in Tiphareth “it enlightens the fire of all lights...” Accomplished Masters and Avatars shine with a Light from within.

Another name for Malkuth is כלה, kalah, the ‘bride’. Kalah sums to 55. Fifty-five is the Theosophical Extension of 10. The same letters in kalah, interchanged, spell out הכל, ha-kal, ‘the All’. There is a Qabalistic axiom which states that: “Malkuth is in Kether, and Kether is in Malkuth, but after a different manner.” This can be illustrated three ways: 1) Sphere 10 reduces to 1, the implication being that the end of things (Malkuth) holds the beginning of a new round (Kether); 2) Kether is pure undifferentiated Spirit, while Malkuth is the physical manifestation of that pure Spirit. Reduce all physical matter and it becomes Kether again; 3) The quotation in the Kybalion:

“While ‘all’ (Malkuth) is in ‘THE ALL’ (Kether), it is equally true that ‘THE ALL” (Kether) is in ‘all’ (Malkuth).To him who truly understands this truth hath come great knowledge.”

The root of Malkuth, מלך, malek, means ‘king’ (one name for Tiphareth), but with the feminine plural suffix, ות, oth, it may also be translated ‘queens’ as in the Song of Songs 6:8. Malkuth then, may be considered both masculine and feminine. The early Qabalists well knew this. The genuine medieval and Rosicrucian alchemists were also aware of the subtlety and recorded so in their writings with the Latin term Rebis, the ‘two-thing’ (see Rebis in the Glossary section). We are each of us a two-thing. We are the conscious half and the sub-conscious half while in this physical world. Whether we reside in a male or female physical body, in the alchemical sense, the conscious mind is masculine, the sub-conscious mind, feminine.

Plato wrote somewhere in The Symposium, his dialogue on love and the erotic, that every being longs to find its complement, its missing half. He also developed the theory that all things are imperfect mirrors or shades of one ideal archetype. Plato might have been Sagittarius, they seem to love philosophical ‘ideals’. He claimed that imperfect objects strove to become the ideal. His theories were not too far off from the Rebis. Each half of the two-thing within strives for its complement. The True Self is that ideal within us all.

Within the average, normally, psychologically healthy human being (whatever that means) these two modes of our ‘consciousness’ express themselves in very different ways. And, depending upon the degree of our ‘average, psychological healthiness,’ their expressions can be extremely helpful or disastrously detrimental. The conscious half may plan and scheme a certain direction for ourselves, trying to make things happen, while the sub-conscious half thwarts or even subverts entirely the whole endeavor in the most subtle ways. This is because one part of us is scheming the path of Cain’s descendancy while the other part is very aware of Seth’s inclinations. On the other hand, we might perhaps harbor strong sub-conscious inclinations for ourselves, to perform great things for ourselves and/or others, and yet, consciously we hesitate, or we talk ourselves out of the plan for a multitude of reasons or fears.

For many of us, indeed far too many of us yet, these two aspects are at odds with each other. In some of us, they might even be considered at war with one another. Those of us who have this war raging within us are at detrimental odds with the opposite sex. When enough of us are at war with the opposite sex a culture is created at war with itself which expands into nations. Consequently, individuals with this inner imbalance find or create inharmonious relationships with their chosen mates. To the degree that we are individually in harmony with ourselves, to that degree do we find and maintain a complementary harmony in all our relationships. Pretty basic psychology.

For alchemical purposes, however, the ‘two’ must function as one, equal to each other. No small feat. In fact, alchemists and Rosicrucians through the centuries have termed this endeavor Magnum Opus, The Great Work.

The number within Malkuth, מלכות, sums to 496. In recognition of the immense effort at the very beginning of the Great Work, Qabalists were aware of another appropriate term holding equal gematria with לויתן, levithen, ‘Leviathan, the Great Devourer’. Because, in the very worse case scenario, are we not that? Did we not through the centuries destroy and devour everything in our paths? Are we not yet continuing this course? Are we not at the very brink of self-annihilation today, given our continuing insatiable appetites? To reverse this course, individually, is our primary mission, especially if we are to progress anywhere with this Magnum Opus.

And yet it can be done if we truly recognize that surrendering to THAT WHICH IS WITHIN is the only sane course for us individually and collectively. Number 496 is the Theosophical Extension of 31 (1+2+3+... to +31 = 496). Number 31 is the numeric symbol of אל, el, the ‘strength, power, might’ of the One God. This is the complete extension, therefore the fullest expression, of the powers represented by אל, attributed to Chesed. Paul F. Case’s commentary: “AL is 31, and 31 reduces to 4. 10 is the numerical extension of 4, thus the name of the 10th Sephirah is the numerical extension of the name of God attributed to the 4th Sephirah. 31 is also the number of לא, lo, ‘not, or no-thing’, Malkuth is the full manifestation of the divine strength which is itself no-thing."

We are that full manifestation. This One God resides within us. What we can sense through the entire physical manifestation, from countless galaxies to yours and my body, is actually an illusion. Do not misunderstand the word ‘illusion’ in its most pejorative sense. This world and the entire physical plane is real to all our physical perceptions, as real as a granite rock. Pick up that rock and boink it against your head and you will curse. Then you’ll stop. What is meant esoterically by the term ‘illusion’ is that our perception of this physical world is not a true perception. Our senses deceive. The physical manifestations are not what they seem. All that is manifest is the fullest extension of the ONE and ONLY GOD. That God is a Spiritual essence, an infinite ocean of Light Substance, condensed and coagulated into such compaction as to appear as something solid to our senses. The ancient philosophers had countless names and expressions for this ‘ocean of Spirit’ because that Spirit may manifest as all the objects we can name. They wrote: “Our matter has as many names as there are things in this world; that is why the foolish know it not.” The ancient Qabalists knew and understood it by the title Ain Suph Aur, the Limitless Light.

The mass mind in any generation has always believed that to prosper to any degree in this physical world we must fight on some level. The physical world is inimical to existence, we believe, therefore we must use our conscious minds to cleverly manipulate all we can for ourselves against all others attempting the same. This is one of the biggest illusions we face, and we are adamantly entrenched in it yet. This is the staunch opinion of Rebis. And Rebis is mostly at odds with itself.

The conscious half of Rebis cannot control anything, especially Ain Suph Aur, which is everything! The conscious mind, as Qabalists have taught through the centuries, can only effectively perform acts of attention and concentration. The subsequent manifestation of anything put to attention and concentration is the function of the sub-conscious half of Rebis. Since these two aspects are yet at odds with each other within the mass mind chaos is the result. Look around you.

Moreover, the illusion Qabalists speak of is getting greater, and more powerful. We can philosophize and say it may have begun in the most innocent manner, when technologies first appeared on the horizon. Long after the printing press appeared around the 1490s, photography made its debut around the middle of the 1800s, a novelty back then. The phonograph amused masses shortly thereafter, followed by the zoetrope and other pre-film animation devices. Telephones, movies and television continued to arrest attention. The internet emerged from television; addiction soared. Unfortunately, in many cases, technological knowledge spread rapidly, but the sense to use it wisely lagged. The ‘toys’ were grasped by some unfit persons only to abuse the power behind it all. Telephones have now evolved into addictive attention arresting devices such as the i-phone and smart phones accessing social sites like Skype, Facebook, Twitter, etc., to the point where highly organized criminal elements (and I am NOT suggesting ethnic ‘families’ or mafias here, but corporations) actually manipulated duped users into an addictive state where a sub-conscious need has surfaced to stay connected...to nothing.

What is coming next on the horizon may be worse yet. Virtual Reality was being perfected as this was being written. These powerful devices will possibly arrest all the senses simultaneously to the point of total addiction. Already being advertised and flaunted as the ultimate entertainment experience the true underlying purpose will be to enslave and control. And everyone will must have one. Imagine. We are already more or less entrapped in the illusion of a physical world due to our deluded senses. It is difficult enough to free the spirit of its grip. How much more so, then, will the grip of Virtual Reality enslave? We will then be trapped in the illusion of an illusion. Very spooky.

Why has אל, el, the ‘strength, power, might’ of the One God done all this, and continues to do so? To guide us into evolving, into maturing, and into changing the course for ourselves for the ‘return home’. Humanly manufactured inventions and devices will bring us no closer to a true, lasting happiness any more in the future than they have in the past. It will all be merely accelerated continuation with more illusions to delude. The delusions will continue to bring suffering. And it is that very suffering which will eventually disgust each and every soul, in its time, to become fed up with all of it, declare “Enough,” and take up some effort toward return.

It is inherently built into the Grand Illusion to never satisfy completely. If any aspect of that illusion were to satisfy totally, we would never seek return and become one and whole again. We would choose to remain in the perpetual state of separation and create more chaos. And that is not possible since the past, present and eternal future condition of the entire universe is One. The Creator manifested a physical universe for the sole purpose of giving all its creation pleasure; to enjoy, not to selfishly take and hoard at the expense of others. When joy is abandoned for the pursuit of ‘personal’ happiness, the illusion begins to seduce. We are more enamored by the pleasure of senses gone amuck than seeing the joy in creation. When the second Commandment was given: “Thou shalt not have strange gods before me,” it was not merely suggesting other gods of ‘other’ religions, for indeed, all religions themselves are ‘strange gods’ are they not? Anything we hold so dear as to worship on some level or other is actually a ‘strange god’. Our cars, our stocks and bonds, our religion, our houses, clothes, careers, habits...anything we consider MINE above all else is a ‘strange god’. We will not be punished for coveting these places and things. The suffering inherently attached to all those things of the illusion is punishment enough.

Attempting to conquer or change the whole physical manifestation around us in the pursuit of happiness is the height of delusion and folly. We can only change ourselves individually. When enough individuals are changed, then some degree of change in the greater arena may be affected. Some old schools of Qabalah call this change, תקון, tikkun, meaning ‘correction; repair, improvement; reform’. The ‘correction’ is gently moved from within us. We cannot and do not change for the better willingly. We change when current conditions become unbearable and eventually intolerant. Change only becomes permanent, however, when we realize it is actually we ourselves who created the intolerable condition in the first place. Then we will cease chasing our tails in the pursuit of happiness ‘out there’. Rebis begins to adjust, to correct.

- Gordon James -

#alchemy #kabbalah #esoteric #philosophy #consciousness #hermeticism

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luzintheattic · 4 years ago

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A story by my Zeide Moto

My maternal grandfather's name is Mario, but since I can remember, everyone has called him Moto. He once told me that this nickname came from his days as a biker in the pampas, but my grandmother said it was because he was like a motor, always working. He was one of those men who got increasingly handsome with age with his dark skin, rectangular glasses and distinguished nose; he looked like a man from another era, one of the last true gentlemen.

He, in his role as the distinguished Doctor Markelis, was a serious and severe man, but as my Zeide Moto, he was always making up stories for his grandchildren, entertaining us for endless hours. Before starting his stories, he asked us a series of questions: did we want fiction or nonfiction? princesses or cowboys? In Spanish or English? With or without monkeys? Short or long? Most of the time, no matter what he asked, we ended up choosing our favorite Moto tale, the most popular of all his diverse oeuvre, his magnum opus, The Farting Horse. The story has changed through the thousands of times that my grandfather has told it, but as far as I remember the story of the Farting Horse goes like this:

“Once upon a time, there was a kingdom in the middle of the Arabian desert. It was an impressive kingdom, with magnificent castles of gold and high walls which converted into a kind of huge amphitheater. It had gardens that, according to some historians, were even more beautiful and fragrant than those of Babylon, and mosaic murals decorated every corner. Although the beauty of this kingdom was reputed throughout the Middle East, what made this kingdom legendary was the way in which the kingdom worked together in harmony, from the poorest peasant to the great and powerful Sultan. There was no disagreement that could not be solved by critical and creative thinking.

The crown jewel of this kingdom was the little princess, the only daughter of the sultan. Her wit and charm were contagious: she could make the most curmudgeonly person laugh, involve the most isolated person, interest the most apathetic person. The beauty of her mind found its only rival in the dulcite tone of her voice.

Countless wiser and more qualified men have tried to communicate the quality, the tone, the spectacle that was the little princess's voice to no avail. Every morning, as true as the sun rising in the east, the little princess came out on her balcony at seven sharp to sing her song. The melody of the song has been lost in the sands of time, but the lyrics endure in those who are strong of soul:

No te des por vencido, ni aún vencido,

no te sientas esclavo, ni aún esclavo;

trémulo de pavor, piénsate bravo,

y acomete feroz, ya mal herido.

Ten el tesón del clavo enmohecido

que ya viejo y ruin, vuelve a ser clavo;

no la cobarde estupidez del pavo

que amaina su plumaje al primer ruido.

Procede como Dios que nunca llora;

o como Lucifer, que nunca reza;

o como el robledal, cuya grandeza

necesita del agua, y no la implora…

THHBPPPPPPPP

Suddenly a loud and disturbing noise replaced the sweet voice of the little princess. Out of shock, she paused for a moment. No one had ever tried to play instruments while she sang, especially such an atonal one. But, as the little princesses embodied the kind and collaborative spirit of the people, she thought that it was a good thing that the music would be something communal. She continued cautiously.

trémulo de pavor, piénsate bravo,

y acomete feroz, ya mal...

TTHHHHHHBPPBPBPBPBPPPPPPPPPPPPPPBBBPPB

This time the little princess realized that whatever she was making that noise could not possibly be an instrument. It was deafening and annoying, something no one could have possibly done on purpose. Not one to be easily discouraged, the small princess tried to sing her song again.

Ten el tesón del clavo enmohecido

que ya viejo y ruin, vuelve a ser

THBPPPPPPBPP

It was in vain, nothing could be heard, except this new awful noise. All day long, the noise rang out, bouncing off the walls. The pleasant perfume of the gardens was also replaced by the smell of manure. Without the princess's song and her inspiring message, the people of the kingdom could not get up on time and all arrived late and disoriented to their work. The subjects, due to the constant and disturbing presence of the noise and the smell of manure, began to fight amongst themselves about insignificant things. No one could sleep, talk, sing, or focus, on anything but this new noise and smell.

The sultan, concerned about the subject’s discomfort, as well as his own, immediately formed a voluntary committee to find the source of the noise and silence it. The morning after the noise was first heard, the entire kingdom searched in every ornate corner the source of the noise. After a few hours of searching, the noise was found at a small farm on the outskirts of the kingdom. The cause of so much trauma, so much chaos, the origin of all the kingdom's problems was a small horse that couldn't stop farting.

The sultan, when he heard the news that they found the origin, immediately went to the farm accompanied by the little princess. At seeing the flatulent horse, the little princess could not contain her laughter. She was half impressed that such a small horse was responsible for the downfall of a kingdom that, until yesterday, functioned in perfect harmony.

Little by little, a crowd of subjects entered the farm, making it even louder and more stinky. Trying to reestablish the collaborative atmosphere that existed before the farts, the sultan asked for suggestions to solve the horse problem. The first suggestion, made by a butcher, was simple and straightforward: kill the horse. The whole motley crew packed into the sweltering stable thought it was a great idea, minus the little princess. Although she was moved by the fate of the horse, the little princess knew that logical reasoning was the only way to convince the mob present. After thinking for a moment, the little princess asked

"And what will happen when we are faced with a problem that we cannot kill?"

The audience began to murmur in protest but after a bit of discussion and debate, they recognized that the princess was right and that death should only be used when there is no other option. A gastroenterologist who was present suggested some pills that could alleviate the horse's farts. Everyone present thought that they should try this prescription, but after a few days of being monitored by the doctors, the situation only got worse. The pills made the farts even louder and stinkier. The kingdom began to deteriorate and everyone became ill as they could not sleep from the sound or eat from the smell.

After the gastroenterologist's failure, an abundance of cures and solutions reached the sultan's golden gates. The architects built houses to contain the sound and smell of the horse, but each one was destroyed with just one fart. Nutritionists changed the horse's diet in every way possible, but it only made the farts worse in one way or another. Religious leaders of every sect tried to exorcise the demon of farts unsuccessfully. Therapists talked to the horse for hours, but, even though he resolved his problems with his absent father, the farts continued. None of the solutions worked and the frustrated and discouraged Sultan decided there was no other way, they had to kill the horse the next morning.

Defeated, the sultan dragged himself down the carpeted hall until he reached the little princess's room. He was about to tell the bad news when he realized that the princess was not in her room. Scared and exhausted, the sultan began to cry, until his own sobs covered the sound of farts and he fell asleep in the little princess's bed.

The next day the sultan rose to the voice of the little princess ringing from the balcony of his golden castle. He was so happy listening to the sweet voice of her daughter that he did not notice the soft melody that accompanied it, nor the lack of the sound and smell of the farts. When the princess finished singing, the sultan ran to the balcony.

"My daughter, how did you do it?" the sultan asked, barely containing his joy.

“It’s simple, papa” replied the little princess “I put a steel flute in the horse's rectum. Now the farts can be heard as if they were the dulcet tones of my songs. What's more, the steel and shape of the flute filter the farts, which makes them not smell bad. "

"What a clever daughter! What ingenuity! You've saved the kingdom, you've saved your people, and you've saved your daddy. How, I beg you to tell me, did you think of this perfect solution? " the sultan begged

"It was easy, Dad" replied the little princess lovingly, "no me di por vencido, aun vencido."

And with that answer the sultan finally understood. It was only in embodying the hard-working, loving, creative, collaborative, and tenacious soul of the kingdom that problems could be solved. Little by little, the kingdom returned to its former glory. People again roamed the streets, went to work, ate and slept. The smell of the gardens was the only thing you could smell and the light was the only thing bouncing off the stone walls. The sultan, the little princess, and the kingdom lived happily after

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thepeakmoment · 7 years ago

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Early Peak Returns

Lynch is easily in the pantheon of the great directors of all time. If Mullholland and Inland didn’t clinch, the new Twin Peaks does. As have been saying from the outset, this was going to be Lynch’s magnum opus and a definitive masterpiece. Though I must say, I didn’t expect Peaks to be this exactly. I read a piece just before Sunday that alluded to what Peaks might look like based on his past few films. Very abstract yet artistic — a true auteur for sure. Now a cinematic genius on par with Kubrik? The visuals alone are striking. All the shots look like his paintings come to life, especially the tree in the Lodge with flesh for brains.… I love the panning across the Lodge floor in the opening, gets the viewer disoriented from the start. I only watched P1+2 Sunday night, watched P3 Monday, and tonight I’m rewatching P1–3 before watching P4. So I’m Peaking out tonight. Might watch again before P5 on June 5.… I read Lynch didn’t want Showtime to dump all the parts at once for people to binge watch. After all that effort preplanning for years and then the long production and edit times, plus the build up of anticipation and keeping a tight lid on any leaks, Lynch didn’t want the audience to blow their load so quick binging. Lynch wants us to watch and digest for a period of time before consuming more. The series is so dense now, I would actually prefer a week in between showings. It will end in September.

On May 23, 2017, at 4:37 PM, Erik wrote:

It's hard core Lynch to say the least… I'll do a pro's con's list.

PRO's We now know what happened to Cooper after ep 23. And it's unexpected and interesting. YES. And a revelation in phylosipy, even though he had Bob in him when he exited the Lodge, We also know his doppleganger is on the loose, which is NOT BOB inhabbited. So which is which? Muahahah.

Ben & Jerry are still together and in their character. Love Jerry's new persuit. doesn't he say most of the Hotel profits come from his pot sales? Something like that. Next time around, I am gonna watch with subtitles on. Good to see the Log Lady, but sad as well. She looks very sick. Albert looks pretty good, knowing how sick he was.

Watching Catherine so frail takes me right out of the moment. Al Strobel, too. And Carl the Giant. But that works in this story because it’s 25 years later.… There was a nice onscreen pause right after Hawk and Catherine hangup. Lynch lingers on Hawk a good 5–10 seconds, I can’t help but believe intended as a moment of silence to Catherine Coulson — somewhat in line with Judge Sternwood’s aside, taking a brief moment. I bet Lynch intended that while editing, since Catherine had died by then. Just a thought.

Denise Bryson in charge of the FBI YES! LOLOLOLOLOL what else can I say? Lynch is free to Paint Nightmare images on screen again. This all surpasses anything in Fire Walk With Me. Much more like Lost Highway and his Short Films. And his revenge on Michael J Anderson (who said, "I want a million dollars, I'm irreplaceable"). the Arm has "evolved" into A Failed Art Project Tree! LOLOL

Lynch is a painter, filmmaker, and also makes music — Twin Peaks is all of his artistic vision in one medium. This series will be talked about for quite a while, and this singular work will make grand fodder for many film scholars. I think Peaks will stand up to one of the best TV series of all time, mostly because of this recent Series 3.

We are hearing back story about Philip Jeffries (if only Bowie had lived) Helps me believe there is a story thread deep under all this that connects things together. May be hard to follow, but it's there. It's like the X-files on outdated acid. Beautifully shot and sound designed. But we knew that was always going to be true. Not seeing a lot of Snoqualmie yet though.

Love the drone over the Falls shot… dissolved into the wavey red curtains — like a river flowing. Curtains in Blue Velvet intro, too, right?… I notice the titles have more horizontal spacing between characters, undoubtedly adapted to fit widescreen ratio.

New intruiging characteres.. I am liking most of them, though Coop killed some very pretty girls already..(Marsha Marsha Marsha!!) lol Sorry I had to. :P There are so many it's hard to keep track. (how many Coopers are there?) IMDB has updated the Peaks page with all the Actors and their character names. I printed it out and have it on hand while watching now.

Good idea.… On my iPad. Check.

Findingout what some classic characters have been up to. Bobby? Wow...that was a twist. Natural place for Hawk to be. Lucy Lucy, a career receptionist. Jury is still out on Jacoby. Expanding the story beyond the Northwest. They did so in the film a bit, and we are not stopping now. We have a LOT of ground to cover to find these new locations. Coop has even gone into Space...or did he? WTF? LOL … A return to Glastonberry Grove. We saw Hawk up there, but then the story just skips the rest. Did he see the curtins? Did he try to go in? He doesn't even mention it when we see him later (Bobby's Reveal). I could not tell if it was the same place they shot the Grove for the series. I will try to get down there and see if the area has been disturbed. But I see numerous shots in The Return that could have been shot up at Franklin Pond.

I looks to me that Hawk saw the curtains, but knowing the Black/White Lodge mythology knows not to fuck with them. I see Hawk having a significant role in bringing Cooper back, I bet he’s directly involved at some point.… Is that what Peaks is officially being names as, Twin Peaks: The Return? I’ve read that a bunch in reviews.

CON's Where the HELL is all the awesome music??? I mean, for real? you got Angelo hired and you are scoring entire scenes with Dave Brubeck's Take 5? And the Angelo music we do hear is straight off the Original soundtrack or the Twin Peaks Archive. Very strange. That is what is missing for me the most. I want the drums shuffling under the scenes damn it! Even the movie had this.

I was thinking the very same thing — where’s new soundtrack music and sounds? I only seem to hear a low bass rumble in varying degrees of difference and tone. And it looks like each part is going to end at the Bang Bang Club featuring a different band each night. I get the idea, kinda a good way to feature new music but hope they are atleast songs written for the series and not cherry picked from existing albums. I mean, if Lynch handpicked each performer to appear then ok, I can tolerate that. But why not a Bang Bang house band that played Badalamenti arrangements each night — original compositions of new music for The Return. There would be a slightly more elevated buzz about the series if Lynch graced us with new Badalamenti music.

Ben & Jerry appear for 3 or less minutes in part 1 and it has nothing to do with anything at all and then they are gone. (same with James and Shelly and Mrs. Palmer, even Leland had no purpose). Where is Audrey, Norma, Big Ed & Nadine, Doc Hayward and the rest? I will wait patiently, but I am missing the RR. (NO pie or donuts references yet at all, one coffee moment so far)

…One coffee moment so far that leads to death! Or is it the act of sex that leads to death?! I don’t know… maybe one and the same. But I agree, I really wish there is more conventional story line featuring the characters of TP, because that’s what made Peaks, as well — not only the Lodge, Giant, Dwarf, BOB, et al. It was the quirky characters that we all enjoyed. Even if the storyline plays us new ones, I’d like to see a narrative that I don’t have to decipher or wait until the scholarly writings appear.

The Music Video endings. Sorry, but really? The songs and cinamatography are not even all that special. It's like listening to KCRW in the morning.lol When Julie Cruise was on stage, it was special. The music was special, the atmosphere was special. It was an important moment in the story. But I guess it's a good way to segway into the end credits, but also seems like a waste of story telling time. Where is Mark Frost's influence and dialogue? We may never know. But it's never gonna be all that quirky funny abusrd character dialogue. It's almost like there are TOO many characters. (Mullholand Drivesh)

I was thinking this a lot, too, yes. Did Frost sign off on all this? Doesn't he know Lynch is very imaginative and has a penchant for tearing up scripts and shoots whatever he wants?? What’s the script for all the Lynch imagery that has only sound, no dialog?

And his scenes in the Casino? Priceless. But I hate seeing Cooper as a total idiot, unable to speak or compreihend his surroundings after he fell out of the sky. Oh well, I know he is coming back soon. So all of this adds up to a Solid A rating from me. VERY strong and VERY engaging. I am on board for the run. Hope we get to watch at least one episode together this summer! PS...Better get your arm checked out. lol

Let's descend on Dom for a Sunday viewing and dinner.

On Mon, May 22, 2017 at 7:33 PM, Dom wrote:

So I have now seen each of the 4 episodes at least twice. I am fucking living it. Here are some random thoughts....if you have not seen all 4 episodes you may want to stop reading now. `Those shots of New York City were the most beautiful I have seen taken of NYC. Fucking Epic.

In some reviews I’ve read, there’s been several mentions about the NYC shots, how impressive they are.… Dom, I knew immediately as it was playing out onscreen that you were loving the couple getting decimated! And with good reason —it was easily as terrifying as the White Walkers.

`All the scenes in NYC are fucking brilliant. `Evil Dale is fucking awesome. Another fucking grand entrance.

I frickin’ luv the new Dale! What a fucking bad ass. Kyle plays him well, too. I totally believe him as (big bad) BOB Cooper.

`Weird they went out of their way to say James has always been cool because its universally known James is weak sauce.

`Will every episode end in with a musical performance at the Roadhouse?

`What the fuck is Jacoby up too?

`So happy Jerry is in the weed business.

`The first scene with evil Cooper in that trailer with those weirdos was awesome. What did Ray and Darya give to the freak in the wheelchair as they walked by?

`The last 10 - 12 minutes of the 4th episode with Gordon and Albert is maybe my new favorite sequence of all Peaks. Fucking perfect. Fucking awesome acting by Lynch there too.

`The beginning of the third episode with that chick with her eyelids sewn shut was also hardcore Lynch. Love it.

`I honestly felt Bobby Briggs was going to turn to the light side and join the Bookhouse Boys based on the dream his father had about him 25 years ago. I did not expect him to be a fricking deputy though. I wonder if he is a Bookhouse boy now though?

I'm about to go watch some more. I truly hope you two are enjoying it as much as I am. Channel 33 "The Ringer" did a great break down of the return of Peaks today. Worth the listen.

Peaks TV Entertainment Weekly A Twin Peaks Podcast Twin Peaks Unwrapped Twin Peaks The Return: A Podcast

I woke up today and could barely move my right arm. No joke. Its still kind of numb. Thank god its not my left arm or I would be freaked out.

Cant wait for episode 5.

June 4

#twin peaks #david lynch #cast #twin peaks: the return #angelo badalamenti #agent cooper #mark frost #podcast

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forasobermonday-blog · 7 years ago

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Emerald Tablet

The Emerald Tablet, also known as the Smaragdine Table, or Tabula Smaragdina, is a compact and cryptic piece of the Hermetica reputed to contain the secret of the prima materia and its transmutation. It was highly regarded by European alchemists as the foundation of their art and its Hermetic tradition. The original source of the Emerald Tablet is unknown. Although Hermes Trismegistus is the author named in the text, its first known appearance is in a book written in Arabic between the sixth and eighth centuries. The text was first translated into Latin in the twelfth century. Numerous translations, interpretations and commentaries followed.

The layers of meaning in the Emerald Tablet have been associated with the creation of the philosopher's stone, laboratory experimentation, phase transition, the alchemical magnum opus, the ancient, classical, element system, and the correspondence between macrocosm and microcosm.

Textual history

The text of the Smaragdine Tablet gives its author as Hermes Trismegistus ("Hermes the Thrice-Greatest"), a legendary Hellenistic[1] combination of the Greek god Hermes and the ancient Egyptian god Thoth.[2] Despite the claims of antiquity, it's believed to be an Arabic work written between the sixth and eighth centuries.[3] The oldest documentable source of the text is the Kitāb sirr al-ḫalīqa (Book of the Secret of Creation and the Art of Nature), itself a composite of earlier works. This volume is attributed to "Balinas" (or Pseudo-Apollonius of Tyana) who wrote sometime around the eighth century.[4] In his book, Balinas frames the Emerald Tablet as ancient Hermetic wisdom. He tells his readers that he discovered the text in a vault below a statue of Hermes in Tyana, and that, inside the vault, an old corpse on a golden throne held the emerald tablet.[5]

Following Balinas, an early version of the Emerald Tablet appeared in Kitab Ustuqus al-Uss al-Thani (Second Book of the Elements of Foundation) attributed to Jabir ibn Hayyan.[6] The Smaragdine Tablet was first translated into Latin in the twelfth century by Hugo of Santalla.[7] The text is also in an enlarged thirteenth century edition of Secretum Secretorum (also known as Kitab Sirr al-Asrar).

The tablet text

A translation by Isaac Newton is found among his alchemical papers that are currently housed in King's College Library, Cambridge University.[8]

Tis true without error, certain & most true.

That which is below is like that which is above & that which is above is like that which is below to do the miracles of one only thing

And as all things have been & arose from one by the [meditation] of one: so all things have their birth from this one thing by adaptation.

The Sun is its father, the moon its mother, the wind hath carried it in its belly, the earth is its nurse.

The father of all perfection in the whole world is here.

Its force or power is entire if it be converted into earth.

Separate thou the earth from the fire, the subtle from the gross sweetly with great industry.

It ascends from the earth to the heaven & again it descends to the earth & receives the force of things superior & inferior.

By this means you shall have the glory of the whole world

& thereby all obscurity shall fly from you.

Its force is above all force. For it vanquishes every subtle thing & penetrates every solid thing.

So was the world created.

From this are & do come admirable adaptations whereof the means (or process) is here in this. Hence I am called Hermes Trismegist, having the three parts of the philosophy of the whole world

That which I have said of the operation of the Sun is accomplished & ended.

Theatrum Chemicum

Another translation can be found in Theatrum Chemicum, Volume IV (1613), in Georg Beatus' Aureliae Occultae Philosophorum:[9][10]

This is true and remote from all cover of falsehood

Whatever is below is similar to that which is above. Through this the marvels of the work of one thing are procured and perfected.

Also, as all things are made from one, by the [consideration] of one, so all things were made from this one, by conjunction.

The father of it is the sun, the mother the moon. The wind bore it in the womb. Its nurse is the earth, the mother of all perfection.

Its power is perfected. If it is turned into earth.

Separate the earth from the fire, the subtle and thin from the crude and [coarse], prudently, with modesty and wisdom.

This ascends from the earth into the sky and again descends from the sky to the earth, and receives the power and efficacy of things above and of things below.

By this means you will acquire the glory of the whole world,

And so you will drive away all shadows and blindness.

For this by its fortitude snatches the palm from all other fortitude and power. For it is able to penetrate and subdue everything subtle and everything crude and hard.

By this means the world was founded

And hence the marvelous conjunctions of it and admirable effects, since this is the way by which these marvels may be brought about.

And because of this they have called me Hermes Tristmegistus since I have the three parts of the wisdom and philosophy of the whole universe.

My speech is finished which I have spoken concerning the solar work

Original edition of the Latin text. (Chrysogonus Polydorus, Nuremberg 1541):

Verum, sine mendacio, certum et verissimum:

Quod est inferius est sicut quod est superius, et quod est superius est sicut quod est inferius, ad perpetranda miracula rei unius.

Et sicut res omnes fuerunt ab uno, meditatione unius, sic omnes res natae ab hac una re, adaptatione.

Pater eius est Sol. Mater eius est Luna, portavit illud Ventus in ventre suo, nutrix eius terra est.

Pater omnis telesmi[12] totius mundi est hic.

Virtus eius integra est si versa fuerit in terram.

Separabis terram ab igne, subtile ab spisso, suaviter, magno cum ingenio.

Ascendit a terra in coelum, iterumque descendit in terram, et recipit vim superiorum et inferiorum.

Sic habebis Gloriam totius mundi.

Ideo fugiet a te omnis obscuritas.

Haec est totius fortitudinis fortitudo fortis, quia vincet omnem rem subtilem, omnemque solidam penetrabit.

Sic mundus creatus est.

Hinc erunt adaptationes mirabiles, quarum modus est hic. Itaque vocatus sum Hermes Trismegistus, habens tres partes philosophiae totius mundi.

Completum est quod dixi de operatione Solis.

Influence

In its several Western recensions, the Tablet became a mainstay of medieval and Renaissance alchemy. Commentaries and/or translations were published by, among others, Trithemius, Roger Bacon, Michael Maier, Aleister Crowley, Albertus Magnus, and Isaac Newton. The concise text was a popular summary of alchemical principles, wherein the secrets of the philosopher's stone were thought to have been described.[13]

The fourteenth century alchemist Ortolanus (or Hortulanus) wrote a substantial exegesis on The Secret of Hermes, which was influential on the subsequent development of alchemy. Many manuscripts of this copy of the Emerald Tablet and the commentary of Ortolanus survive, dating at least as far back as the fifteenth century. Ortolanus, like Albertus Magnus before him saw the tablet as a cryptic recipe that described laboratory processes using deck names (or code words). This was the dominant view held by Europeans until the fifteenth century.[14]

By the early sixteenth century, the writings of Johannes Trithemius (1462–1516) marked a shift away from a laboratory interpretation of the Emerald Tablet, to a literal approach. Trithemius equated Hermes' one thing with the monad of pythagorean philosophy and the anima mundi. This interpretation of the Hermetic text was adopted by alchemists such as John Dee, Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa and Gerhard Dorn.[15]

C.G. Jung identified The Emerald Tablet with a table made of green stone which he encountered in the first of a set of his dreams and visions beginning at the end of 1912, and climaxing in his writing Seven Sermons to the Dead in 1916.[citation needed] Historians of science, Eric John Holmyard (1891-1959) and Julius Ruska (1867-1949) also studied the tablet in the twentieth century. Because of its longstanding popularity, the Emerald Tablet is the only piece of non-Greek Hermetica to attract widespread attention in the West.

#etc

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bluesdoodles · 7 years ago

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The Tramshed on a cold February night as the queues lengthen and the anticipation rose for MAGNUM back in town tonight as part of the Lost on the Road to Eternity tour. The chatter was about how many tracks from the superb new album, and what favourites from the past would be on the setlist. For the majority waiting, Rebecca Downes was the unknown. For Bluesdoodles who has followed her career we knew they were going to be in for a vocal treat and no-one would be left disappointed by the support tonight.

The band stepped on to the stage and then the blond dynamo that is Rebecca Downes opened her lungs and got the musical journey underway. The band were on top form tonight surrounding Rebecca’s vocals that are sultry, bluesy, rocky shaping the song. Rebecca’s vocals that change with colour and tone can be defined as stunning. Rebecca fronts the band she is the consummate show woman. Opening with Never Gonna Learn, that may be true in a song. The reality is Rebecca and the band keep on developing building on experiences of playing songs live from her albums Be Live and Believe. The set was too short but perfectly formed. A lively opening to the evening, as ever very professional. Rebecca’s stage presence has changed the constants are her voice and the touch of leopard skin, now found on the guitar that adds a layer of rhythm to the sound, adding to Steve Birkett’s guitar playing. Birkett’s guitar is crisp with a mix of the slide, blues and harder edge rock. Night Train was a highlight and Sailing on a Pool of Tears is always a musically emotive charged journey. Then the hint of the music to come on her anticipated album with a new number If I Go To Sleep, with its intriguing sonic opening and heavier sound this is Downes and her band stretching the musical style with accomplished maturity. Rebecca will always charm the audience with her warm smile and charismatic chat. The fans bathed in her vocals as she complimented the MAGNUM fans for turning up to hear her play. As she succinctly said, “Magnum fans really know their music”. Closing the set giving the audience opportunity to give voice a Joplinesque cover of With A Little Help From My Friends. Tonight got off to a flying musical start with the huge talent that is Rebecca Downes. An opening set has heated up the venue and has built up everyone’s expectations for the headline act to follow.

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The atmosphere rose a notch or two in the anticipation of the entrance of tonight’s progressive star turn MAGNUM. With their excellent latest album Lost On The Road to Eternity adding to the thrill and expectation. With a new line-up since the band’s last visit to the Tramshed May 2016. Joining original members Bob Catley and Tony Clarkin plus long-term bassist Al Barrow are Rick Benton on keys who with a synergy was Rebecca Downes’ keyboardist and Lee Morris on his spectacular drum kit.

Opening with Why We Were Younger taking us back to the 2007 album Princess Alice and the Broken Arrow our evening of MAGNUM immersion therapy begins. The band tonight hit the ground running as with Rebecca’s set the sound was superb. MAGNUM was on fire tonight, great sound, great mix of numbers and entertaining the fans with every note and dramatic swirls from Bob. The tour name may have coincided with the album, but the set-list was not a sales drive from the album. The four carefully selected tracks, the title track, Peaches and Cream, Without Love and Show Me Your Hands gave the perfect taster. The four tracks were probably even better live than on the album they were superb.

We danced and cheered and sung along as old numbers were re-imagined and enjoyed. New numbers including from 2016 album Sacred Blood “Divine” Lies”, Crazy Old Mothers morphed into Without Love from the current magus opus from the Prog Rockers we love to hear played live and up close.

With every number the excitement rose, the heat in the room increased as the Tramshed was lit up by music that compels you to listen. The fans loved to hear How Far is Jerusalem and join in on the chorus. What a number that remains ringing tunefully in your ears long after the venue falls silent. When Bob sang Show Me Your Hands, the Cardiff crowd did just that with hands held aloft in unison. The crowd were very animated and bouncing with every note from keys through to guitar. Mesmerised by the drumming and feeling the bass groove. MAGNUM with Bob conducting the atmosphere feeding out of their hands. The stagecraft, interaction with the audience was a masterclass for any aspiring rock band/performer. The MAGNUM hits just kept pouring through the speakers we were already to be part of MAGNUM’s Vigilante force.

All too soon the stage fell silent. Not for long MAGNUM were back for the obligatory encore and ten more minutes of MAGNUM joy. Starting with The Spirit and rock spirit was strong tonight as we Chase The Dragon in Cardiff. Closing the night with When The World Comes Down tonight we were on a high as we stepped back to Vigilante album from 1986. This was an anthemic classic which they don’t always play live. A fantastic top quality gig full of progressive rock enjoyment and fun.

What a night of live music on fire the audience purred with delight a set list full of old favourites forgotten gems and new songs to hear live for the first time. Result! Tonight On A Storyteller’s Night fell silent replaced by a new live favourite Peaches and Cream. We all say come back to Cardiff really soon Rebecca and her band and MAGNUM you will always be welcomed.

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SetList – MAGNUM

When We Were Younger Sacred Blood “Divine” Lies Lost on the Road to Eternity Crazy Old Mothers Without Love Your Dreams Won’t Die Peaches and Cream How Far Jerusalem Les Morts Dansant Show Me Your Hands Twelve Men Wise and Just All England’s Eyes Vigilante Don’t Wake the Lion (Too Old to Die Young)

ENCORE The Spirit When The World Comes Down

Rebecca Downes Opens For MAGNUM Entertainment The Tramshed on a cold February night as the queues lengthen and the anticipation rose for…

#Al Barrow #Bob Catley #Lee Morris #Magnum #On The Road To Eternity Tour #Rick Benton #The Tramshed #Tony Clarkin #Tramshed Cardiff

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waxandwanemusic · 8 years ago

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Primer #7 - Guided By Voices

The Primer is our column wherein contributors compile a 60 minute playlist of a band near and dear to their heart. Using personal listening anecdotes, notes about specific tracks and a brief overview of each artist, The Primer is both a way for our contributors to trace their musical genealogy and for our readers to gain a new perspective on an artist they may have missed or dismissed.

Installment seven of the Primer series features drummer extraordinaire Joel Kuiper preaching the Gospel of Dayton, Ohio's Guided By Voices.

Be sure to listen to the one hour podcast episode we recorded with Joel about his Guided By Voices Primer.

It must have been early in the summer of 1994 when I first heard about Guided By Voices (Dayton, OH). The source was the now long defunct Grand Rapids area zine "Slak" Magazine. One of it's writers gushed on and on throughout the issue about the bands then new release, "Bee Thousand". He also gushed about seeing them on a side stage at Lollapalooza that year. He described the music as pop rock melodies that sound both timeless and fresh at the same time, and are at once both sophisticated and completely raw. The lead singer was a 4th grade teacher. That did it for me.

On the occasion of my next trip to East Lansing record shop Flat, Black & Circular (a multi weekly event at this point in my life), I purchased a CD copy of "Bee Thousand". Listening as I drove home, I liked what I heard. The songs were poorly recorded, but had the sheer energy and enthusiasm to easily overcome any fidelity issues. Melody after melody poured effortlessly out of my Subaru wagon's speakers. I could hear The Beatles in there (Robert Pollard is the Blatz to John Lennon's Two Hearted Ale). I could hear R.E.M. in there.

Even though there were similarities to what I had heard in the past, there was a freedom to this music I had never experienced before. And then came Track 9. "Gold Star For Robot Boy". I remember it clear as day. I was on Foster Street heading south towards Michigan Avenue. Then Pollard sang - "If I waited for you to signify the moves that I should make - I'll be on the take - Gold Star For Robot Boy - well then that's OK". Genesis 1:1. The heavens opened. I heard it - and it was good. No - actually it was fucking great!

This had only happened to me once before - when I was 9 years old and heard The Beatles for the first time. But the Beatles record had came from my Aunt Carole - this band was mine. And they still are.

Guided By Voices are my favorite band. Robert Pollard is my favorite singer. He is my favorite songwriter too. He has written a few. Like over 2000. That is not a typo. And at least1000 of them are good! The fact that Pollard exists at all is the real story. As I mentioned - he was a 4th grade teacher for cryin' out loud. Making music in the basement with his buddies, having trouble getting gigs in his own hometown and releasing record after record of great songs that no one except the band and their families ever heard. (Sound familiar anyone :) ????) As a matter of fact, GBV was about to call it a day on the doorstep of its breakthrough way back in 1993 after a decent 7 year run.

Then someone sent a tape to Cleveland. And then from Cleveland to NYC. The rest is history. GBV is not The Beatles. Pollard can't lounge in the French Riviera collecting paychecks. But he has carved out a great and lengthy career - which shows no sign of letting up - by doing things his own way and creating great music for himself - whether anyone actually heard it or not - which is endlessly inspiring to a lifelong musician like me.

When Matty asked me to do this - he told me I had time for an hour long playlist. GBV has 23 proper records - and twice as many EP's and other assorted goodies. And I am not even going to touch Robert Pollard's solo records (He has over 20 of those too). Thousands of songs whittled down to these 26 standouts. Get ready to rock!

Listen to all 26 songs on Joel Kuiper's Guided By Voices Primer in the YouTube playlist below.

1. Over The Neptune/Mesh Gear Fox

Alright Rock N Roll! GBV! GBV! Is anybody ready to rock? This song does not rock. These very words are spoken as this track begins - and you'd better be ready to rock - cuz your gonna. From the arena rock swagger in the songs beginning, to the weird progish middle section through its melodic conclusion, "Over The Neptune/Mesh Gear Fox" is the archetype for what GBV is all about, fitting most of its many influences into just one song. No wonder it clocks in at over 5 minutes which qualifies as an magnum opus for these cats. And yes, the song does rock.

2. Your Name Is Wild

Truthfully I was sold by the title alone ( GBV has the best song titles), but the minute the song kicked in I was hooked by the uber hooky hook. Even though I can still barely figure out what he is singing - the melodies are brilliant and I can't stop mumbling along!

3. When She Turns 50

Just Bob and an acoustic. Simple and clear recognition of one of the great voices and songwriters in the history of recorded music. And those lyrics...........sigh.....

4. Things I Will Keep

My favorite track from the Ric Ocasek produced Do The Collapse, which was GBV's attempt at major commercial success. Even though "Hold On Hope" and "Teenage FBI" are two of the bands most well known songs - both have been featured on TV shows and in Movies - the band never achieved the success they (or the record company) was hoping for with the release. It still holds up well however.

5. Hank's Little Fingers

Great title. Great execution. Great lyrics (Unless you've got the answers - don't patronize the mountain men". Great Chorus. Totally irresistible. Try and resist. I dare you.

6. Dodging Invisible Rays

As good as Pollard is - and he is that good - his main foil in the early classic years of GBV was one Tobin Sprout - who is himself good enough to shame most songwriters. Despite his thin voice, Sprout shines in all that he does with a gifted sense of melody and song craft as evidenced in this catchy number. He is worthy of his own separate career - and he has achieved just that. Sprout has released multiple impressive and acclaimed solo efforts. Without question Sprout should get his own highlight someday here at Wax & Wane. I'll start begging Matty now. Sprout is also an accomplished and successful painter - he had a gallery in Leland, MI for years and is renowned throughout the world in those art circle thingys.

7. Secret Star

This was the tightest and most talented lineup GBV has had (so far). Sounding like something The Who could have recorded in the early 70's, the song is complex and compelling. The payoff at the end is sublime. "To wish for you to fall. To wish for you to burn. To wish for your return".

8. Gold Star For Robot Boy

1:39 of pure bliss. The first time I ever heard it I listened to it 27 times in a row.

9. If We Wait

One of my favorite Pollard vocals. What he does with the single word "anymore" alone is worthy of rock glory. A genius at work. In the basement.

10. Everyone Thinks I'm A Rain Cloud (When I'm Not Looking)

An easily overlooked (in GBV's massive catalog anyway) gem from the bands last record preceding its 10 year hiatus, which began in 2004. The band toys with the arrangement like the pro's they are and create plenty of magic to accompany Bob who never disappoints. Well almost never. For 90% of bands - this would be the best they have to offer. Its just another day in the office for the Wizard from Dayton.

11. Non-Absorbing

Oh. it's gonna absorb all right. "Do you see me dee dee dee deedeedeedee - Like I see you do do do dodododo" You'll never get it out of your heard again. Ever.

12. Atom Eyes

Tobin strikes again! See what I mean? His damn songs are soooooo good. This one is jangle pop heaven. "There's a million heartstrings ready to fly - let's pull them now" Pull away Sprout!

13. Planet Score

A song reminding us all to go to the record before they are "like the ghosts of Motown you just don't see them anymore" or "like the spectres of L.A. haunting the buildings of New York". One of the best tracks post the reunion of the classic lineup.

14. Indian Fables

This quick 43 second toss-off perfectly illustrates the simple musical magic that ensues when the golden throated Pollard easily whips up yet another charmer.

15. Fly Into Ashes

This is a B-Side on the "Hold On Hope" single. A better song, in my opinion. I can't believe it didn't make the record. GBV's throwaway's are most band's prime rib. Doug Gillard - wunderkind guitarist and musical foil for Pollard in GBV's second act - really shows his mettle here. That guitar solo really flies!

16. Dayton, Ohio 19 Something & Five

Nostalgia never sounded so good. We are not worthy.

17. Little Whirl

A delicious Tobin Sprout rave-up. You can't not like this. "I DON'T CARE! I DON'T CARE"

18. Girls Of Wild Strawberries

Gorgeous. Better than the fruit - but not better than Girls.

19. Echos Myron

Usually coupled with "Yours To Keep" (both are from the seminal Bee Thousand), "Echos Myron" has been a staple of GBV's legendary live shows (The Best live band in America for two decades now) - and is guaranteed to have the whole house doing the pogo up and down from the first chord. "We're finally here - and shit yeah it's cool!" Bass Player/Lawyer/Wearer of the Striped Pants Greg Demos offers a great final argument as he shreds his way through the last part of the song as rock n roll nirvana is reached.

20. 158 Years Of Beautiful Sex

Sounds good to me. The song is great too. A drum machine never sounded so good. Notice how Pollard drops the bass out of the song at the :54 mark of the song and then brings it back in at 1:04. Are you fucking kidding me? No joke. "Loads of creamy music - and lots of time to make it". Indeed.

21. The Hard Way

In lesser hands this early standout could potentially be just another generic rocker - but when The Prince of Northridge (the Dayton neighborhood Pollard hails from) adds that damn voice of his - it's like when the color hits during The Wizard Of Oz.

22. Not Behind The Fighter Jet

The last song the classic lineup recorded before its 18 year hiatus (1996-2014). Love those keys at the end. Glad it didn't end!

23. Universal Truths & Cycles

The title track of "Universal Truths and Cycles" is a slinky number with a great chorus (aren't they all?) with some standout bass work by Todd Tobias. "And the lost hierarchy of land - and land owners - and down will go back up forever more - I must try to believe this". I believe! Hallelujah I believe!

24. The Other Place

First song. First record. First classic. Pollard shows us from the very first seconds that he is a force to be reckoned with. Already 30 years old, it is not dated at all and seems even more fresh today than it must have in Dayton in the mid 80's. The first of many Pollard songs that R.E.M. wish they had written. Again - those damn vocals. Sweet lord.

25. Game Of Pricks

Maybe GBV's finest hour. A tale of the death of a relationship that is so damn catchy that the CDC is still working on an antidote some 20 plus years after this rock n roll virus was unleashed. "I climb up on the house - weep to water the trees - and when you come calling me down I put on my disease". Take that Dylan. The band would re-record this for the Tigerbomb EP. While it was recorded better - and had some nice new guitar parts - the original version cannot be matched. This song is so good it inspired at least one book (Perfect From Now On) and just may be the most played song in my personal collection.

26. The Ascended Master's Grogshop

Sure the title is weird - but the song's melody is devastating. A melancholy masterpiece - that's less than a minute long. Sigh with me.

Joel Kuiper owns and operates a non-emergency medical transport service called Outpatient Express. He also plays drums in The Stick Arounds, Scary Women and Icey-Dicey.

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