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Naro - Tuesday, January 31st, 2012
The term you refer to is "adverse possession." If people trespass and you do nothing to stop it, then over time, the trespassers can acquire rights of access and of possession, as in the case of squatters. As another example, if you had a field and a neighbor planted and harvested the crop without permission and you did not stop it, the neighbor could acquire the right to continue to do so.

casz - Saturday, January 14th, 2012
Thanks for your comment. From your IP it doesn't quite look like you are coming from Iowa. Perhaps you don't feel secure writing from your own? Oh, well. I can certainly understand that.

Have you noticed you can pull the box out to a larger size (from the right lower corner)? This may make it more pleasant to use.

This seems a good time to mention that unless comments are in line with cultural areas of interest to me (arts and sciences, math, politics, economics -- a pretty wide range, actually) I don't publish visitor comments.

I do appreciate the many comments I receive, however, and hope readers will not feel slighted if theirs do not appear. And yours is here because you are making a valid point, and one with which I entirely agree.

I'd like to do more toward threaded discussion so comments can be germane, and do have a blog on a commercial site that does this, however I hardly ever post there as it annoys me greatly to see work profit someone else (like blogspot, livejournal, wordpress, etc.) without any tangible return. My content gets ripped off plenty as it is without me giving it away deliberately. It occurs to me that doing the latter might also provide some legal argument to someone violating my copyrights, as an indication that I don't believe there is value to what I am doing here and thus anyone has a right to take it freely. This argument might be based on property rights relinquished because the owner has knowingly allowed others free access, resulting in the property being defined as a public access area with free rights of way. I forget the exact legal term for this, but it does happen in the U.S., surprisingly readily.

As to whether anyone would mount such a defense for plagiarism, this is just a guess. However it is my belief, and this ranks as a sacred principle, that nothing that has any value is "free." This is one reason I disassociate myself from partisanship in my political thinking, because basically I think the "Republican vs Democrat" structure in the US is almost a complete joke. I truly believe it should cost money to belong to any organization, or require specific "work for membership" or some other form of real payment. Otherwise it's a lot of hot air and way too easily manipulated to serve the greater good.

But that's just me. I don't think I've ever heard anyone else say something like this outside the mystery schools : ) (where it is an ancient principle, i.e., "nothing for nothing" and "nobody rides for free.")
It's simply imperative to assign value where value exists, otherwise one is hurting oneself in the karma department, as well as presenting oneself to be used as a tool unknowing of what purpose.

I will take your critique and hope to soon find time to make this a threaded forum. However I must warn you I find it very hard to find time for this at present since I continue "marketing" efforts to procure commercial projects essentially constantly and continuously, I am working pro bono dong marketing communications in theater and the arts, and really want to finish UPSIDE DOWNSTAIRS this year.

If you would like to provide PHP code for the threaded forum, I could probably implement it, however (as I said) I'm not highly motivated to do this "for you," who are contributing . . . what, exactly? I do love you, of course, but you haven't added anything new or valuable. Just saying.

Heaven protect you,
xoxox,

Katherine_Iowa - Saturday, January 14th, 2012
Use your passion and geek expertise to liberate the latent creativity that resides in readers, something that works better than the linear, sequential and fast fading stream of comments (yeah, this is recursive). Comments are writing, but lets have something not as we know it. Writing in this box just feel a little klunky, there must be a better way, make a better blog :)

xto - Thursday, January 12th, 2012
Now that winter has finally arrived, a friend expresses mystification that her grandfather and husband both prefer using cloth handkerchiefs to tissues. At lot of people don't understand this, asking, "Why? Why?"
so in their defense I say, "They're good because cloth handkerchiefs don't blast paper particles up into your brainpan, that's why. And you wonder why you're sick all the time. Sheesh."

BTW, I have dozens of beautiful embroidered handkerchiefs, some antique, with colored and monochromatic edgings in seasonal motifs and for each hour of the day, also piles of very fine Italian cotton ones woven in brocade, Irish linen and damask. There is an enamel counter top in my laundry especially for spreading the freshly laundered hankies to dry, which makes them come out crisp and ready for folding without ever needing to be ironed. I usually carry two or three, and many is the time I've been able to rescue a distraught human by offering one when they are lacking even the saddest scrap of tissue, and overcome by a most urgent need which threatens to decimate their dignity in a very public way. Rarely are these offerings ever returned, nor do I expect them to be (or, to be frank, even wish them to be).

I remember when President Obama took office his first opportunistic calamity was swine flu, for which he mounted a national campaign encouraging "sneezing on your sleeve," and I even witnessed him wiping his own mucous on the sleeve of a hapless journalist. I saved the video, and wrote a song about it.

Sung to the tune of "Bringing in the Sheeves," it's called, "Sneezin' on Yer Sleeve." Try it yourself and experience the laughable state of our national discourse under this foolish man. It goes like this:

"Barfing from the TARP bill, on Cap and Trade you're road kill
With the president we're falling to our knees
Now you've got the swine flu and if it doesn't drop you
You'll be taken to the cleaners for sneezin' on your sleeve

Sneezin' on your sleeve, sneezin' on your sleeve
We shall be revolting, sneezin' on our sleeves
With public option health care, why the hell should you care
We shall be revolting, sneezin' on our sleeves

At the fateful "Achoo!" we don't need a tissue
Barak Obama's genius as everyone can see
Now that we are all Green, forget your stinkin' hygiene
Just take us to the cleaners, we're sneezin' on our sleeves

Sneezin' on your sleeves, sneezin' on your sleeves
We will be revolting, sneezin' on our sleeves
Now that we are all Green, forget your stinkin' hygiene
We'll be taken to the cleaners, we've been sneezin' on our sleeves

Vote of Confidence - Monday, January 9th, 2012
For the reason that the admin of this web site is working, no question very rapidly it will be well-known, due to its quality contents.

slissinny - Tuesday, January 3rd, 2012
Awesome topic for discussion!

Thank you for bringing this up!

Occupiers vs Hippies - Tuesday, December 27th, 2011
Mario said:
Hippie's had a motive, a reason, and they changed the world. This generation, of which I just tail end, has proven to be the most productive, creative and impactful in all of history. This could almost be a theme song for a generation. And, like the hippie, will live in infamy.

I think Mario is right.

Compared to Occupy Wall Street people, the hippies were better educated, more articulate, and were capable of formulating actual intellectual discourse so that individual voices rose as leaders, above the fray, with galvanizing messages the entire culture purchased wholesale. The creativity and energy of that generation caused an explosion in consumer spending based on human craving for beauty through design and style. Before the hippies, even all the household linens were nothing but white, and fashion dictated the cut of clothing in total defiance of individual body types.

These examples describe just a small part of the up side; perhaps the down side was even more extensive: the hippies and later the yippies dissected the components of "power," codified it, kicked out the old guard, and proceeded to level the opposition with much greater effectiveness than the hokey pokey "fat cats" of the earlier, more naive era would have ever dreamed feasible or even morally justifiable, incorporating messages from the arts and eventually even the sciences in their polemical machine. "Radical chic" was virtually mandatory and by the late 1970's it became impossible to even consider an academic career without willingness to hew to the party line. It shames me now to realize to what extent I bought into all of this without even realizing it.

Perhaps iit's in the "unintended consequences" spectrum, nevertheless "political correctness" is the child of the hippies, as is the vapidity of the cultural discourse evinced by the mush-brained Occupy Wall Street protesters. Equally vapid but much more rapacious is the new class of billionaires who with a few strategic moves and very little actual work or merit exploit IPOs and various bubbles to arrive at fortunes not seen since the robber barons (who unlike the current crop of noueau riche btw actually produced something, many of them bestowing legacies to the nation that are beyond the measure of money such as libraries, parks, museums, universities, etc.).

By comparison, most of these present day nouveau riche have contributed nothing. How many who tipped their friends to impending IPOs in the dotcom bubble in exchange for the same favor returned the next week were ever investigated, let alone indicted for such serious crimes and ethical violations as produced this class of the new wealthy? We were warned for nearly a decade that the housing bubble was the only thing holding the economy together, yet the response by government was to enable Fannie and Freddie to spread the wealth down through the middle and lower classes, forcing banks to loan to unqualified buyers and then "guaranteeing" the loans (which is always a license to steal, which the bankers of course knew quite well, jumping at the chance) while the cunning discovered that they too could flip houses in the new shell game, real estate, where only the naive would be left sitting under water in houses worth far less than they had paid for them.

My generation -- the hipsidipsitistical elite full of righteous indignation and too clever by half -- are still holding the bag for these developments. Thanks to us, the public school system cannot produce on a large enough scale a citizenry with the kinds of minds that in the past were able to circumvent the machinations of the entrenched elite. Like empty young dreamers, people obsess over endless streams of meaningless text messages, so unable to divorce their misplaced attention from such obsessive feelings of "connectedness" that laws must be passed to keep them from doing it while operating motor vehicles and sometimes even buses and trains.

Over the last couple of weeks, while the the so-called news was filled with the sturm und drang of a two-month tax cut (an incredibly simplistic description of the legislation), I mentioned to friends that I believed the entire affair to be an attempt to maintain relatively innocuous "issues" at the forefront as a distraction from many much more serious problems on the horizon. Specifically, I said the next thing coming down the pike would be another increase in the debt ceiling.

How I wish I'd written it instead of merely speaking in casual conversation. Then I might truly be considered a prognosticator, eh! But now that we see it in the headlines today, who among us would not say they saw it coming? This was not the functioning of prophecy. Really, it was far too obvious for that distinction.

Hi Samt0 - Thursday, December 22nd, 2011
Thanks for your interest. If you will link back to my site in your article when using ideas inspired here, then you are welcome to use this as the basis for your own posting. Do let me know when you have something. I will read it, and perhaps we can get mutual benefits from riffing off one another. Best of luck, casz

Samt0 - Thursday, December 22nd, 2011
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Samh0 - Thursday, December 22nd, 2011
�Gran poste! Gracias por tardar l . a . �poca de escribir algo que est� realmente digno de chicago lectura. Encuentro demasiado your menudo el Data in�til ymca zero algo que es realmente relevante. Gracias por su trabajo duro.

robnlajx - Wednesday, December 14th, 2011
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GorfhGorfo - Thursday, December 8th, 2011
Another fantastic content! Thanks!

When the ego rules, defending lies - Tuesday, December 6th, 2011
"Cuando crezcas, descubrir�s que ya defendiste mentiras, te enga�aste a ti mismo o sufriste por tonter�as. Si eres un buen guerrero, no te culpar�s por ello, pero tampoco dejar�s que tus errores se repitan."
Paulo Coelho.

"When you grow, you will discover that it defended lies, deceived you yourself or suffered for foolishness. If you're a good fighter, do not blame you, but do not let your mistakes be repeated."
Paulo Coelho.

Is he talking about the ego? I found this a comfort after quarreling with young people at Mitt Romney's campaign headquarters in New Hampshire last weekend.

The argument arose after an effort by some campaigners to vilify Sarah Palin, but unfortunately it concerned her accurate assertion that Paul Revere had warned the British, and their continued obstinacy about how ignorant she is based on that well-publicized incident.

The media lambasted her royally, and the next day, when slight research proved her correct, several outlets suggest quietly that she had accidentally gotten it right.

The young people I found myself among had not heard the upshot and were continuing to revel in her supposed stupidity, so I defended the truth.

It was distressing to see the level of hatred they harbor for Palin, calling her a bitch and calling her daughter a bitch, etc. I later visited one of the young men's facebook page, where he (a homosexual muslim variously describing his country of origin all over the middle east) also asserted that the Palin women do not deserve the "beautiful" men who love them.

The two young men actually got up and walked away after demanding I should stand down when I produced the historical account in Paul Revere's own words. The young woman proceeded to totally ignore my existence.

One of the young men, a rustic Italian-looking guy with werewolf eyebrows (strong resemblance to the actor Bobby Canale) wearing a tight-fitting periwinkle blue sweater that branded him as a class metrosexual dude despite a proliferation of body hair, appeared to be about to beat me up when he decided to walk away. I was about to tease him about his pretty sweater and girlish figure. I suppose that could have sent him right over the edge, and I'm glad I didn't say it, although it would have been an attempt to molify him — horribly misguided, I'm sure, but I was really upset to see such anger directed at me after proving my point, and was considering things to say to defuse the irate young republicans with humor. I also considered, "So she accidentally got it right, while you are actually mistaken??" but could not see that as ever being taken as humor. All three strongly preferred the fictitious Longfellow account of Paul Revere's midnight ride.

I must add that I am not a republican but strongly independent. I campaigned for Mondale against Bush 41, e.g.,, however I had met Romney on two occasions during his gubernatorial term in Massachusetts and instinctively understand him to be a straight shooter, a massively talented and creative executive, and unwilling to oversimplify complex issues to the level of sound bytes (which I think voters do understand despite media efforts to report every idea in a dozen words or less, apparently so they can move on to the more interesting exercises of spinning implications). In this PC environment, this takes real fortitude. I'm just hoping he isn't giving people more credit than they deserve. My readership I know to be curious and open-minded people capable of assimilating and apparently even enjoying the stream of compound complex sentences I regularly write here, and it even appears based on the many requests for new postings during my hiatuses that people are positively starved for input from anyone who credits them with the gift of their intelligence and speaks to the heart of it. Surely we here are not so far removed from the commonplace?

But I digress.

The hirsute fellow had suggested that "we" (meaning New Englanders) are the ones who know history, and the history of activity immediately before the Battle of Lexington and Concord is written in the Longfellow poem. At the time of the original conflagration in the press over this issue, a local talk show host who purportedly reads history and holds himself to be an authority on matters political hewed to the same line, which I found quite shocking at the time.

Many of his callers did attempt to correct him, but he shouted and dismissed them demanding that they should read the Longfellow poem, and that was the final word on the subject. In fact Paul Revere rode straight into the arms of a British outpost (accidentally, of course), and was captured. He wrote that they demanded to know his business or they would "blow my brains out." Straightaway he spilled his guts entirely. They demanded to be taken to Concord where they could check the story for themselves, and "if you're lying we're going to blow your brains out." They arrived in Concord, matters stood exactly as he had described them, and the British released Revere and hightailed it back to their regiment to report the developments. Please search this on the internet if you are interested in the subject. There are any numbers of essays soft-peddling the Longfellow account by authors unwilling to disabuse readers of their sentimental favorite version taken from Longfellow, but most of those writers do uniformly caution that there is a difference between the requisites of writing a popular poem that relies on scansion — "William Dawes" being much less useful to rhythm and rhyme than "Paul Revere," the latter of whom is also a popular and colorful figure in numerous other fields of study — and writing history. However, Revere's own account is also rather easy to find. It's written in highly flamboyant and direct prose you are certain to enjoy.

In the case of the young would-be political animals last weekend, I pointed out that Sarah Palin's parents were both educators in the Pacific Northwest, and as I was also educated (at least through high school) in the Pacific Northwest, I could attest to this bit of history vs. fiction having been carefully delineated for us in middle school. The erroneous account by Longfellow was given to us side-by-side with the historically accurate account to serve as an example of how one cannot believe everything appearing in print.

The young natives of New England were clearly and deeply further incensed at the suggestion that people in the Pacific Northwest might possibly be receiving better education than they.

This altercation with people I had supposed to be friendly in the way compatriots ought to be nearly spoiled my day.

Or maybe it did. As a matter of fact, that night I became ill with a gastrointestinal bug, and now on the third day am just starting to feel myself again. I'm not sure whether it was the argument, the pizza (which people were helping themselves to by tearing slices off with their bare fingers — one dirty bird in that scene could easily account for a case of salmonella ; ) or the crowded bus we rode from Massachusetts to New Hampshire, which bus is normally peopled by pupils at no larger than grade school size who I have been given to understand are positively seething with microorganisms. It is true I have rarely touched on so many questionable surfaces in one day, and it should have come as no surprise that I would straightaway have to be put to bed for the better part of three days as a result.

Now I am even more concerned about my candidate, for if his own supporters could possibly include such a confederacy of dunces, I'm afraid I must redouble my commitment and help as much as possible in advance of the New Hampshire primary one month hence.

cicViachVem - Sunday, December 4th, 2011
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I hate to comment but i am going to for this post. Thanks for your difficult work, please maintain it up.:)
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Due to the fact i adore your posts i thought i would show my appreciation by making a comment. Thanks alot for the excellent times you give :)

NY - Thursday, December 1st, 2011
I suggest adding a facebook like button for the blog!

xto - Monday, November 28th, 2011
A friend in the space industry in Huntsville just discovered MIT's Open Courseware Free Online Course Materials, and was astounded that the entire curriculum is available there, without cost, to everyone.

Search "MIT Open Courseware" to discover a genuine pot of gold. You can even get their drama/theater coursework, the inclusion of which in the MIT curriculum is solely to engage students in working together, which is something engineers really have to be able to do and which is, IMO, the true test and miracle of civilization.

Putting on shows together is truly excellent preparation.

"Collaboration" is a familiar and formidable buzzword nowadays, but all it really means is "working together." However, like a lot of buzzwords are wont to do, this one gives a superficial idea of what it seems to define. In my experience the loosely tossed around definition of "collaboration" can mean just the opposite, e.g., it often implies "everyone is equal," "it's okay to team up in opposition to perceived adversaries among the collaborators in order to press personal agendas" and "it's a great way to take credit for someone else's work."

OTOH, theater is a very old model with fairly rigid departmentalization of functions, with directors in each department, and people "below" them who work for them in well-defined roles. It is indeed "collaboration" but quite unlike much of what is meant by those who tout that idea in popular culture.

Payton_fromAF - Monday, November 28th, 2011
I was thinking the same thing about Alexa as there was quite a lot of movement. They might have readjusted their adjustment for "technology skew" - or what ever it was….

Claris Hooke - Thursday, November 24th, 2011
Your resource is really great. Keep posting that way.

Welcome Young Turk - Saturday, November 19th, 2011
The code you inserted does not look like it can hurt, so I leave it. Those of you who don't have the sophisticated methods for tracking feeds can also use it to get back here. Just search. It is doubtful that this method can help with notification of updates, but what do I know?

If anyone knows this to be something that can be used by the bad guys, do please let me know so I can remove it
: )
Thank you.

Ankara - Saturday, November 19th, 2011
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Welcome - Friday, November 18th, 2011
It seems a good moment to remind readers that the list is monitored, and that while I love all the messages it makes no sense to publish everything. However, real insights and strong narrative is always welcome.

Thank you so much for your interest and support. After my latest, the traffic increased significantly, so I am greatly cheered to know some of you have assisted.

Cefetwine - Friday, November 18th, 2011
Just wanted to take the time to say hi to everyone and get to know people a little. We look forward to contributing to the community.

Sincerely,
Alcock and Associates
2 North Central Avenue, 26th Floor, Phoenix, AZ 85004
(602) 989-5000
alcocklaw.com

SEO hard knocks - Wednesday, November 16th, 2011
Hey, friends

I'm just here briefly to thank you for visiting and contributing to the growth of the readership through your recommendations, and to ask you to make a special effort if you get the opportunity to link nine3 on Stumble Upon or other favorite places where people go to discover interesting reading.

I mention it now because of the two or three previous occasions when the big search engine companies decide that I ought to be paying for the privilege of your readership. Typically I receive email requests for services to optimize seo rankings, and then (failing to pay someone for something that has been flowing here as a result of reader interest) suddenly my rankings drop precipitously, cutting the traffic by as much as 60%. It then takes a year or so to grow back to its previous levels, but they never seem to let it get beyond approximately where it is now before killing it again. So I see they are probably getting ready to lower the boom and would like to mitigate that if possible though your assistance.

I should just mention that I have zero disposable income at this time as for perhaps the first time in in my life I'm not multitasking, i.e., not multitasking that much, having eliminated commercial billings (not by my preference) from my activities. Not sure what will happen in this regard, I'm okay for now, but tending to spend less time searching for customers as there seems very little point to that pastimeat the moment. People ask me to do things to further prove (beyond my resume and portfolio) my skills, I comply, and then nothing comes of it. I'm sure a lot of people are in the same boat right now. But in a way it's a stroke of luck to be "given" this time to concentrate on creative writing.

On the other hand it will be seriously disappointing suddenly to see the readership disappear because the search engines that bring you here have decided it's time to review where I appear in the ranking.

I'll be thankful for whatever you can do to help. Guess I should get "tell your friends" button on here. Have no idea of how to do that, though, and need to research the best way to do it.

I'm making a preliminary arrangement for FADA, having found a wonderful singer who is interested in performing on the demo. He will also make suggestions to improve the singability of the song, in the event it turns out to be trouble in that regard. I'll be singing it myself on a "pre-demo" so he can hear how I do it, which should help.

Will get back to you as soon as I can. Thought of a good subject while driving in the car yesterday : )

Until later, friends,
xoxox,

Binizicky - Friday, November 11th, 2011
Good day. Very cool web site!! Man .. Excellent .. Amazing .. I will bookmark your website and take the feeds additionally...I am happy to find a lot of useful info here in the post. Thanks for sharing.

brdijoo - Friday, November 11th, 2011
I am new here but i think he is right.

Congratulations - Friday, November 11th, 2011
This stock blog question finally came around to a point of relevance to current topics, so Here is your comment at long last ; ) with my congratulations for making it into the feed.

The answer is no, I haven't thought about it. I think about what I think about, and use what tools present themselves to my opportunities with the least commitment to breaking my head mastering the next software in line.

A person who is fascinated by and/or must continuously keep up with every new interface, utility or web site claiming to have a better way of answering the need to express things in multi media -- and whoever answers this call with a resounding "Hip-hip-hurrah! I get to spend more time setting things up so I can begin to express . . .! Whoopee! [wait a minute . . .]" has very little in common with me.

OTOH, perhaps you are posting as someone who wants to spend time setting things up so it is I, i.e., as a customer, who might use your services to reach a greater audience . . .

well, then, what do you propose?

I take to use the tools that present themselves to me to enable what I wish, and then I start wishing (i.e., expressing, actualizing) something that is not the tool but is, partly, the product of the application of the tool. Plus the thing itself.

Genesis_fromAC - Friday, November 11th, 2011
In doing this blog and thinking about this stuff, have you ever had any ideas for what kinds of tools (software, that is) that people could use to do things like share creative ideas in groups, create customer community, etc. etc.?

Thank you - Friday, November 11th, 2011
You are very kind to say this. It truly means a great deal. If I were as deeply modest as I am lazy, I would convert this forum to a format where comments are hidden under a "comments" button so it would not give the appearance of boasting that yours is here in plain sight for all to see -- a 'little only," as though I have not many, many charming comments from lovely readers I could share if I were willing to be truly bombastic in my egotism : )

But alas I cannot change the forum now as I am puzzling over the notation of the song whose lyric appears below -- and, may I say in all honesty, it is agony! I don't mind spending hours creating songs, but the hours spent bending my will to the notation software I do truly resent. It is in so many ways much easier to write it by hand, at least at first. However the revisions are much more difficult, requiring actual recopying and so forth. Besides, people never want to see hand written notation these days. Everything must look published.

Colin in Spain uses Sibelius, and he is very fast at it. Perhaps that's the one I should get. Alas, I am relatively poor now, with little disposable income for things like software upgrades.

I realize there are very many people in the world in the same shape. Looking at the visitors is especially interesting as it forces one to realize how many servers and individuals's machines are still on early Microsoft products. Windows 95 and 98 are still very much in evidence.

I mostly have Macs now but nothing beyond OS10.11, and the music machine is on OS9. It's all working pretty well. I gave up PCs for many years but this year had to get a Win7 machine to interact with a favorite colleague, and was shocked to discover how much worse it is than Win98 was (my last PC before this one). I remember that being a very robust machine with few problems, but the Win7 is truly annoying to navigate and use.

I did get a wonderful midi utility that runs exclusively on the PC, called gnmidi from Gunter Nagler. Search "gnmidi" if you are interested in getting it. Gunter is very clever about how he approaches everything, and a registered gnmidi also gives access to a couple of other products of his (gnmixer and gnfmt) which really extend one's ability to enhance midi sequences. Not that I will spend much time at doing that for the present, as my focus must be on creating the final pieces for UPSTAIRS DOWNSTAIRS and getting what Stephen Schwartz claims is a very basic demo, which he says is the extent of what is demanded of composers -- just something to hand off to an arranger/orchestrator that shows a fair representation of the piece. I'm not completely convinced this will fly here in Boston due to the extreme snot factor which has migrated from the ivy league into every smelly little school with a music department ; )

And then of course I am also writing the UD book, which is a great pleasure as it is a very funny story, and there are a few places who have said they will accept my submissions without my having to spend money on them, and some of them are in New York, where the people seem high above the snot factor in understanding what is good. I believe that's because they are interested in making money, and they don't care who has the talent or where they went to school. It's actually a much cleaner standard, IMO, than the shennanigans that go on around here! Did I tell you that the nasty Harvard brat who tried to say he had composed the music for THE RAZZ (with a promise to "svengali me to a big career" (as his lyricist!), when contradicted by someone who wished to defend me, replied, "Oh, COME ON, do you REALLY think that SHE could write an absurdist French comedy! PLEASE!" Which of course begs the question of why he and his pals at [name withheld] Music Theater were so keen to have it on their own resumes instead of mine! Anyway, that was a long time ago and I realize I'm not greatly affected by it today, except insofar as everyone in this town thinks I'm a nightmare harridan for having been so ungracious as to reject the offer. And after they had already told everyone they were doing it!

Oh my word. Why haven't I given up?

Anyway, no doubt I should give priority to the submissions, but am bearing down hard on writing at the moment and it's very difficult to find time for everything, especially when drawn to blogging : )

Actually I must now go and prepare dinner. I'm cooking early so I can have my spa before going out to help the Milton Players with their final performances of "Lend Me A Tenor." It a very popular show, we're all dressing as for the opera, so it truly would not do to have aromas of curry and chicken about my person for such an occasion, eh!

Must run. xoxxo,

trivysils - Friday, November 11th, 2011
One does not often find on the internet as decent articles as yours is. I cant wait to read some more of your works.

FADA - Tuesday, November 8th, 2011
FADA

If I could love you just exactly as you need me
That means I´d be wise
Wise enough to play the fool

With a swagger of manhood, and jocular prattle
You may find a moment when interesting tattle
Will get a whole war won, to great approbation
While the general´s still pondering the field for a battle

If I could save the day for you, in just that way
Then you might say I´m wise
Wise enough to play the fool

Fada is wise enough to cut the shoot
And give to it the ground to root
For these are lessons learned in school
But do they make him wise
Wise enough to play the fool?

Cruel as April showering petals from the trees
Careless as a breeze
Some things spring up on their own
Fresh, blown, bringing hope against hope

Unfed and unnoticed there blooms such a garden
Unlikely it is, as a cold winter´s pardon
Gloom in the shadow of all which is absent
And because of that creation has happened

Will Fada discover something new
To shatter what is left of you
For you, who always find your way to art
After passion leaves you picking through the pieces
Scattered in the breaking of your heart

Fada lets the garden be closed to you
To make for you the grief you need
To knit with words the rows of seed
And weave with flowing waves of tears,
The low notes only your heart hears

So the world can be singing, as it keeps unravelling
And you keep making it whole again
Despite, no because of, the rain

Fada must know to cut the shoot
And give to it the ground to root
But these are lessons learned in school
And do not prove him wise enough
Wise enough to play the fool

A friend from Pakistan tells me the meaning of the word "fada" is "cracked wheat" and it is the name of a product known in other regions as "cous cous."

This is most interesting, creating the possibility for pretty names and endearments for the man to be murmurerd in secret among the various women vying for his love in UPSIDE DOWNSTAIRS.

Apart from this added depth in characterization, the lyric itself has changed, and been shortened.

Melody is language with its own meanings, and lyrics often must be changed in order to be stitched onto melodies, for melodies can be less flexible than language since they will often lose the strength of their core meanings if they lose their inherent rhythm. In language, or at least in English, there are usually numerous ways to arrive at similar meanings. That is one of the strengths of English, a component of its strongly associative and assimilative character. As well, the meanings of words (especially significant words) can be made emphatic by drawing their vowels over several notes, maintaining or even enhancing melodic rhythms through variations. Therefore I rarely consider a lyric inviolable. I like to write the draft of the lyric first, always fully prepared to tailor it as necessary to the melody that arrives, deeply mysteriously, from secret sacred sources in the universe once the central idea exists.

There are cases where a phrase or even a whole section of a lyric cannot be changed, for sometimes, of course, especially in the kernel of the lyrical idea, the best and necessary words spring uncogitated in exactly the correct expression, straight from the subconscious. It is usually this part of the lyric that is used as the incantation, repeated endlessly and felt deeply, that calls a song's very own unique melody out of the ether.

Sometimes the draft lyric is more poetic than the finished lyric can be. In the case of Fada, arriving from a bittersweet sense that it is the suffering of the artist that brings the transcendant into existence. The wonderful thing that can be shared in the world, those things that LALLA
; ),
come to be "despite -- no, because of -- the rain."

This is a complex idea upon which, historically, endless critical commentary has been lavished. "Golly gee and goodness sake," you know how the old tome rolls, "how could that artist have created such amazingly wonderful things and yet go on and whack his ear off, throw himself down a bottle of booze, give his brain a shower of buckshot, or [fill in the blank]." Fada is the song of a man who understands this process, and, valuing the art above the individual comfort of art's creators, does not stint at delivering the necessary dose of emotional turmoil.

In the second section Fada demonstrates his mastery of playing the fool. One of my dearest friends, a talented pianist and teacher, showed me by "playing dumb" in a carousing group of guys where, by cloaking his superbly keen intelligence so that it is completely invisible, how suddenly a group dynamic will swing around to a moment when magic can happen. Instantly, what seemed impossibly long odds materialized and he got he gig. That's the sort of magic Shakespeare relies upon in his comedies by employing "the wise fool." This is the personality and intentionality of Fada in his everyday existence, and it makes him irresistible to women.

But in the coda, in the too poetic (read "too truthful") draft, he explains the deeper level of playing the fool: he risks his own heart again and again, as even in relenting and giving himself to this artist whom he loves, he knows in the end -- despite how much she suffers, strives and longs for his love -- she will leave him, or at least reveal herself to be, at the ultimate level of intimacy where two hearts conjoin, to be unavailable.

This had to be excised.

It is something I truly believe and wanted to tell, but in the end had to think of my own Fada, and question whether he would ever reveal such a thing. And the answer is no.

And so there it is in the draft. And there it is not, in the song.

It isn't easy to be Fada. He is the master. Ultimately he makes magic happen. Of course he has a heart, and it can break, but he cannot be other than he is, and therefore he cannot reveal everything he knows.

Dear Friends - Tuesday, November 8th, 2011
I apologize to you whose automata you have set to alert you to changes here so that you may come and read, for the times when all I have done is a little light editing to improve the sense of certain sentences or even to correct typographical errors. This writing too often is literally stream of consciousness. I type quickly and never have enough time for proper editing and sometimes execute the submissions when I know they are too drafty : )

I have also been guilty of sharing lyrics that are known to be unfinished. Sometimes such entries remain in the too poetic condition that precludes their description as "lyrics." Lyric poetry they may be, but certainly not "lyrics" in the sense they are suitable as the basis of song.

This is the case with the most recent "Fada" entry. That one is as of very late last night nearly nailed to the cross of structure and melody, and I hope to give you the updated version immediately following (above) with perhaps some superficial explanation of factors necessitating the changes.

The main reason I am here now is that my mail is at present bombarded with pings from dear readers who are hoping to encourage me to write something. Thank you for that! It is lovely to know you are enjoying these entries.

I've recently spent some hours wandering through the world of blogging (the blogosphere) to try to find writers whose pages I enjoy reading, and to my surprise have found the pickings sadly slim. One of my favorites is the ex-wife of an increasingly rich and powerful man. Alas, her divorce settlement now complete, perhaps the reality of her new life is taking her in a new direction. At any rate she suddenly seems to have lost the taste for writing. I hope she returns to blogging soon. She is a writer of novels, as well -- the kind that unfortunately the superior man (Lao Tsu's ideal, previously mentioned) would turn away from as from plague. I love her prose, but her fiction is so powerful that I could read less than half a page before taking flight. Her subject include vampires, cannibalism, murder and so on -- so-called thrillers. The sexy young demon who on the first page we find hitching a ride along a highway, slaughters and consumes the poor human who stops to offer her a ride. I don't know this author personally but through her blogs have come to care for her, but since that opening page have baulked utterly at the prospect of ever giving her another chance as a novelist.

I also read the facebook of a particular person of what could be called aristocratic lineage (I have mentioned a few times here, though not by name) whose many visits to nine3 I have found vexing at times because there was a great promise in our brief acquaintance which he withdrew in the cruelest terms by suggesting that in writing works that are my own I had somehow betrayed him through not being the reincarnate being whose legacy endows him with a somewhat exalted existence and most certainly meant everything in his life. The irony in this case is that his relative indeed inspired me to write for the musical stage and in a very direct way I and my work are the offshoots of his work. He is one of a few people whose visits I note at various times with satisfaction, sadness, vexation, anger, remorse, self-hatred, frustration and the host of other emotions you might experience yourself if you realize you have the attention of someone who could mean everything to the fulfillment of your heart's desire but who, for reasons you will probably never understand, lurks instead of engages and withholds instead of encourages. It's a situation where indeed less would be more, and what would have in earlier times be considered much greater potentials for gathering information bears the net result of a negative value through underscoring personal helplessness in a situation that at one time seemed to empower.

In any case, when I met this fellow I could tell he was someone of wealth and privilege. It was an industry event. I was already seated in the waiting room along with perhaps a hundred other people when he appeared in the door. He scanned the people there, our eyes met, and I smiled at him then went back to my reading. He materialized in the seat next to me. Terrified, I pretended not to notice. Ultimately he retired to sit on the floor within my line of sight, where he opened his notebook computer and began laughing with quiet delight and murmuring at the amusements offered by his email or something. When we were called into the auditorium, he again appeared by my side, so I asked him if he were going to be on the panel of speakers.

Obviously impressed, he demanded why I should even think such a thing. "But you ARE someone, aren't you?" I said. He was astounded and demanded to know how I could tell, but I refused. Later we chatted and exchanged cards.

I think I mentioned this encountered in an earlier post but I do not recall whether I divulged the details of my observation of him that led to me to conclude he was someone on the level of exactly who he turned out to be. I'm not sure I will now say, either, as I see this account is getting rather long and those facts don't pertain to the point I was hoping to get around to making before too much more time passes.

What I meant to say in bringing this up is that this fellow also writes online, not in the form of a blog per se, but as is a generous commentator on socio-political issues through exchanges with "friends" on social media.

One of the notable things about his commentary is that it now has a non dogmatic basis whereas in the past it had been overtly aligned with partisanship of the left wing democrat variety. Perhaps this is owing only to the facts of President Obama's administration turning out to be such a sad collection of incompetencies wedded to bad faith that no one in their right mind would continue to support the activities we now so bitterly refer to as his policies. On the other hand, it may be possible to hope this thoughtful man has discovered the pointlessness as well as the weaknesses inherent in his position as a person of vast wealth and privilege continuing to express support for the machine that has surely stripped him and his various enterprises of shocking levels of value. Who knows? perhaps he has even found instruction here that it is at least worth exploring, as we do at Griselda's Fat Farm of Studio Art, that the "No Dogma" zone is really the only sensible place to reside, intellectually speaking -- indeed, socially and economically speaking as well.

I would appear our so-called right wing and our so-called left wing have edged 'round the circle until their so-called fringe elements (the Occupy Wall Streeters and the Tea Partiers) now have more in common with each other than in conflict. Perhaps the smart politician can notice this and discover the common ground is at the edges, and the edges conjoin to become the new center. I am so pleased to have lived long enough to see this happening : )

� bient�t, friends. See if the current state of my lyric appears above, and if it does, realize I have spent far too much time here today.

Blessings, and profound peace,
xoxo

Testicular Cancer Symptoms - Friday, October 28th, 2011
I just sent this post to a bunch of my friends as I agree with most of what you´re saying here and the way you´ve presented it is awesome.

casz - Sunday, October 16th, 2011
Dear Gammertingen, I don't think anything really matters in this activity quite so much as actually beginning. Once you get rolling, you'll know what you want to do next.

By all means, do get a free blog. (Liver Journal, blogspot, wordpress -- to name just a few.

What if you go to effort and expense of setting up your own domain with this type of script (allowing the postings, and the moderation, BTW, just as reminder to those who may not remember that your messages are received and appreciated, just not always published ; ) only to discover that for some reason you enjoy reading more than writing blogs?

I happen to be one with an excess of emotion, memory, and expressiveness, so a blog is the perfect place to blow off extra energy.

I hear wordpress is very nice.

Joy of Living - Sunday, October 16th, 2011
If you're like most people coming here, you mean you would like to continue balancing and growing the vital life force within you.

The sacred mysteries of Griselda's Farm Farm of Studio art describe multitudinous treatments and rituals to help orient your "Eternal I" (the one you recognze as "you," who constantly cerebralizes with its intellect's mighty abilities) place itself in the appropriate perspective vis-�-vis the collected factors the oneself probably in some way or other considers "other than oneself." : ) but who also has (you deeply suspect) many other senses and abilities that might be potential to it if only it could get that antic guy (your "I" : ) to listen quietly for a moment.

The paradox Western civilization's mores in the present time provide enough confusion to engulf the state of affairs entirely. I can't even begin to get into that at the moment! It's such a nuisance to such as I am, who live my own life privately and well-distanced from the maelstrom. Thanks be to heaven!

But in particular I suppose you would like to use the amazingly powerful libido nature endows for the benefit of your existence instead of something that imperils every moment with its insistence and urgings, eh!

There are sacred mysteries that can help you attain the condition the master Lao Tsu referred to as "the superior man" -- a man free from (among other things) the fear of disgracing oneself through notoriety or, worse, being utterly destroyed through personal failure to understand and command these powers and potentials, as befell the unfortunate Strauss Kahn and Polansky and countless others: "another slave to passion accused by a slave to fame." Attain mastery through these means we share at nine3.com and at Griselda's Fat Farm of Studio Art and Spa in the world of HARRIER ANGEL and you will discover amazing things about yourself and the world, you will realize what you want and actualize what you want from this life -- and you will no longer even be capable of enacting pigdom in your quest for your beautiful life. Not only will it be unthinkable, but your heart will contract with revulsion at those things that tempt you to self destruction.

After you have rediscovered the charms and delights of the garden of pleasure that is natural sex as practiced through the tao of sex (emancipated from the pornogothic malocclusions of the collective industrial disease ; ) . . . you will have devoured the meaning of the nine3.com/Tao.html and the collected truths presented at nine3.com/SacredErotic.html and the pages linked there.

If you love me for showing this to you, then do two things in return:

Practice your practices by nines, as those will harmonize your being with the universe and bring all things at the right time; and
Buy my music : ) at
nine3.com/PurchaseCD/

Truly this request is for much more than commercial value to me. This work in its entirety was written on the strings of my heart, and if you listen to it all the way through, you will discover there are secrets written in harmonies and their overtones, as well as through lyric imagery, rhythm and rhyme, that makes a difference, as it is written, "for the re generation."

Tell you friends. See you at Griselda's! It's for the Women, Infants, Children, Craftsman and Artisans," and that's the whole human race, darlings! We can be there now!

in peace profound, "It L.A.L.L.A.!!*"
Cristobal

*looks a lot like art ; )

Jubail - Sunday, October 16th, 2011
Great information guysmuch appreciated especially with what i'm seeking to do.

Does someone have further reading? Where is the best place to get started on here on this web site?

How To Keep A Man Interested - Saturday, October 15th, 2011
I just book marked your blog on Digg and StumbleUpon. I enjoy reading your commentaries.

Gammertingen - Wednesday, October 12th, 2011
Awesome blog! Do you have any hints for aspiring writers? I'm hoping to start my own website soon but I'm a little lost on everything. Would you suggest starting with a free platform like Wordpress or go for a paid option? There are so many options out there that I'm totally overwhelmed .. Any ideas? Many thanks!

True, Larry. True. - Thursday, October 6th, 2011
Thanks for encouragement. Believe me, I am trying to move forward on multiple fronts simultaneously.

How many really great things have come of one person working alone? Working together is the only way. Alone I can create manuscripts, scores, scripts, libretti. But I also need an agent, a publisher, a record label, production company and probably more.

I hope you will point some of these in my direction, Larry.

So often when people say "tools" they mean a piece of software or an interface to enable the creative person to become their own publisher, agent, editor, etc. For this they expect the creative person to pay, and this is not really any help at all, but merely another sales pitch. However, if when you refer to people who "will make sacrifices" for me, i.e., spend their own equity (sweat and or money, as I have spent in the creation of these works) to become a member of the team, then yes, a creative team is excellent. If everyone works in good faith, each person can supply some of these pieces to their partners and become the required company. But time and again such teams as these that I have worked with have absorbed weeks and months of my support (to the temporary abandonment of my own creative) and in the end they have refused to lift a finger on my behalf. In one case the false promises in exchange for various of my services went on for ten years and in the end, at the moment when he had a chance to introduce me at the highest levels at the Boston Pops, instead he chose to give the impression that he could have a girlfriend (me), and went on about what a generous and kind woman I am instead of saying what I needed, i.e., that I am a colleague and have written lyrics (among other things) for the best work he has ever composed, and which lyric not entirely incidentally he continued until the time of our estrangement to attempt to credit to someone who had not written a single word of it.

People tell the young that to try to do something grand will mean diving into shark-infested waters. But such a frightful image cannot instruct without also giving specific examples of the kinds of things that can happen. This is why I mention the foregoing.

Not that I am comparing my abilities to anyone on the level of Nicola Tesla, but it was he who could be philosophical when asked how he could bear such treatment as he received at the hands of the world. He said something like, "It's actually just so amazing to be me and to be able to see what I see and to execute the things I have executed that it almost doesn't matter." I think what he was saying is true in my case, as well.

There are many keeping an eye on me through these posts and the new entries made toward completion of my pieces. To those who know they should help and will not, I can only say, "It's your loss." Perhaps they will see themselves more clearly for who they are because of how they feel about, and have acted or not acted re:, me, eh!

It's one of the reasons I can call our clan schlemiels (bunglers) : ) because I (and some of the others) have more than enough of what is needed to make the manuscript, the melody, lyric, etc. Just not enough of the other stuff. Therefore we say, "Mazel tov, schtupp nagel." Part of who I am does rely on who we were in that clan. When I have gone to visit, or they come to see me, too often there has been a sewing machine in the cards, and grandiose exuberance to help secure my willingness to give what is so desperately wanted that it will be said, "Sewing! That is where your REAL talent lies!" To me this is a horrible insult, of course, because sewing is a craft and can be taught to almost anyone who wants to learn it, and nothing of the sort can be said about literature and music. But I can't exactly say, "Shut up, you stupid, insulting, selfish, rude cow." Or [insert exasperation here] when they lose patience and begin jumping around nervously and ultimately go off and leave me alone to finish whatever it is I have been charged with making for them because they can't sit still that long keeping me company, and in fact probably had no idea that the finished work doesn't happen just because of the twinkling of my eye. Hey, it's my mother. I don't say that to her. Not even after I have finished the outfit that she asked me for, and now, wanting another that I will not begin, says, pointing to my clothes, "I'll take that one. You can always make another."

"Schtupp nagels," most of us! I don't try to explain. It wouldn't matter to her anyway. What I get from the experience is a lyric called "Work For It" that mentions that while there is some magic and inspiration in creative process, it is mostly concepting, visualizing, sketching, procuring, cutting, fitting, trimming, inserting, stitching etc. etc. . . . i.e., perspiration.

And that is merely in bringing something new into the world, not including sending out the perfect marketing packages to all the people whose names and addresses reside here on my desk (of which there are only one or two out there currently "under consideration") (on the "get a producer" front), or hiring staff, equipment, hall, dressing everyone, doing publicity and marketing and spending a pile of dough (on the "I'm a great producer, what do I need them for" front) or even the marketing and publicity for an actual theater group (on the "quid pro quo" that will probably never be remunerated, ergo the "paying it forward" front). Thanks, heaven! : )

I am at this time able to continue proceding on all these fronts simultaneously, thank heaven -- but do not wonder why everything is taking so long!

I know there are people with good names and fortunes who observe no doubt philosophically. It is their option to do as they like. Perhaps though they might also consider whether it is their unwillingness to follow the gut instinct that caused them to become interested in me in the first place that may be the one and only reason my obituary may include only three or four works for the art they profess to adore when with a little help and engagement from them toward something they profess to wish to be doing, the list might have been much longer.

Hope you can follow. Someone recently called this forum a "stream of conscious" style blog. It is, it is -- but that could be remedied with a few more punctuation marks. OTOH, he said he likes it. So be it, I must go.

Not to my credit, but by the blessings of heaven,
cristo

LarryRenato - Thursday, October 6th, 2011
There are many opportunities and tools for companies available in the market who are keen to make sacrifices to create good fortune for you.

derogatory endearments - Monday, October 3rd, 2011
A friend and her friends were highly entertaining on the subject of what super heroes everyone would make.

I decided that mine would have to be a kind of Jim Crow for schlemiels. My dad's German sounded like yiddish so after he failed the WWII secret agent test they asked him to pass as a jew, which worked out well since everyone thought he was anyway. We say stuff like, "Mazel tov, schtupp nagel" and no one gets offended.

I realized others besides ourselves and the blacks should have a super insider insult,. It's special b/c it is the highest form of endearment. No one but one of the clan would dare to repeat it.

Kirk - Saturday, October 1st, 2011
Man .. Excellent .. Wonderful .. I will bookmark your website and take the feeds also. I am glad to find so many helpful info right here in the post, we'd like to develop more techniques on this regard, thank you for sharing. . . . . .

casz - Thursday, September 29th, 2011
They're singing my RED RIVER VALLEY in Sri Lanka! and many other places around the globe. But Sri Lanka! How fantastic.

After all these years, in the various forms it exists on nine3.com ( including the pdf score, various arrangements of the music, with and without vocals in .mov, .mp3 and so on) it is playing around a thousand times a month. Ah, if I only had a penny for each of these I would not be so frantic about my lack of income ; ) But thank you, internet, for allowing me to know this and to know this feeling I am feeling today. And thank you, all you lovely human beings, for sharing this truth, this antique song mended by my own hands into something that heals. xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Now I will give you the draft of the current state of the LYRIC for the last song in UPSIDE DOWNSTAIRS. I know I promised a fair copy of I CHING! some months ago now, and that song is complete. However it needs to be opened up, with spacing to make it into the torch song it truly is, and I'm sorry to say I have not done that yet and find myself unwilling to trust the world to know how much better it will be with this simple expansion. As you know, there is nothing more controversial than a being such as I am. I have come to understand the conflict t as the gift's tax -- and inevitable. I have felt the burden of that tax, and complained about it far too much here! But today I know with sheer gratitude the blessings of the gift. Because I have a new song for you. Along with I CHING!, FADA forms the coda ("the tail") of the piece. Knowing how it lands, and believing in every word and every note because in its entirety it "felt" and not merely "cogitated" -- well, today I'm happy.

The chord structure has existed for a long, long time -- given to me by my own Fada : ) and at last becoming real to prove that the force of nature that is my personal being wastes nothing.

Blessings!

FADA (Wise Enough To Play The Fool)

If I could love you exactly as you need me
That means I´d be
Wise enough to play the fool

With a swagger of manhood, some jocular prattle
You may find a moment when interesting tattle
Will get a whole war won, to great approbation
While the general´s still pondering the field for his battle

If I could save the day for you, in just that way
Then you might say
I´m wise enough to play the fool

Fada is wise enough to cut the shoot
And give to it the ground to root
For these are lessons learned in school
But do they make him wise
Wise enough to play the fool?

Cruel as April showering petals from the trees
Careless as a breeze
Some things spring up on their own
Feeding hope against hope

Unfed and unnoticed there blooms such a garden
Unlikely it is, as a cold winter´s pardon
Gloom in the shadow of all which is absent
And because of that creation has happened

Will Fada discover something new
To shatter what is left of you
For you, who find your way to art
After passion leaves you picking through the pieces
Scattered in the breaking of your heart

Fada lets the garden be closed to you
To make for you the grief you need
To knit in words the rows of seed
And weave with flowing waves of tears,
The low notes only your heart hears

So the world can be singing as it keeps unravelling
And you keep making it whole again
Despite, no because of, the rain
But now methinks it´s time to smile again
Methinks it´s time we bide beside one another
Another little while again

Fada must know to cut the shoot
And give to it the ground to root
But these are lessons learned in school
And do not prove him wise enough
Wise enough to play the fool

For wise enough I cannot tell
Even as I, a long cool drink from an antique well,
Will lose you to your bending still
Beneath some ancient tree on some faraway hill

Falmouth - Wednesday, September 28th, 2011
It's good idea to do internet page like this one! Very interesting articles and attractive graphic.

XTO - Sunday, September 25th, 2011
Today Brother Bear spoke at length about the layers of sentimentality and barbarism isolating our understanding of the concept of the American "family farm" from its actual character, at least in the region where he has been cultivating wheat for the past three decades or so.

When we hear the term "family farm" today, what we think of is framed within 19th Century images of homespun values struggling against corporate interlopers. Yet this is (as are many icons) far removed from the reality of what some family farms have become.

The game in agriculture today succeeds only because of leasing, ownership of land accounting for less than 20% of yields. Those who cannot lease land for cultivation will soon lose the advantage they enjoy through tax write offs (and other perks) feeding into what today exists as an essentially feudal structure with titular manors supporting generations of offspring who are no more capable of farming land than stray cats living wild upon the legacy of past generations.

For example I am personally aware of a case where the greed and jealousy of the sons of such a family infected their children. These children, when suddenly presented with opportunity, in a shocking act like a scene from THE LORD OF THE FLIES, slaughtered the young child who they understood to be their future adversary.

Because the legal system in our country did not at that time admit that people younger than a certain age could understand right from wrong (a situation that is slowly changing as more and more cases of such heinous acts by children begin to demand clearer thinking on the part of society), there were no legal ramifications for those children or their parents (who were at the time of the crime supposedly in charge of the children but in fact were off on their own, drinking and taking drugs while the children were left to their own devices). To the casual observer these people may appear completely normal, if not enviable in every respect, for they appear rich and handsome and entitled to the best of everything money can buy. But those who were murderous children are today quite mad with moral insanity, unable to admit what they did, and slowly destroying themselves from the inside out. Thus it may be many years, perhaps generations, before the end of this savage ritual plays to its final scene.

It is a colorful tale indeed, one I hope to collaborate on eventually in bringing it to the world. It is an example, like a William Faulkner novel, of wrongdoing on a deeply personal and entirely local and regional form of evil that arose from the territorial instincts of generations who believed they were owed their living as heirs to the profits of a family farm.

Here is another example of how local wrongdoing conglomerates to become institutional evil.

The many houses long ago built on lands now belonging to many of such "family farms" are the currency of modern serfdom in America. Housing given "almost free" in exchange for labor have the effect of enslaving the occupants and putting liquid currency into the pockets of the land owners, who can simultaneously "expense" such housing, while the relatively small rent checks (perhaps $300-500/month paid by the tenants, or around $3,600-6,000/yr. for each house) when processed through the loopholes allowed to the corporation equals tax free income in the pockets of the land owners and their kin.

Tenants are frequently poor, down-and-out people who consider themselves fortunate to enjoy "cheap rent" in exchange for their labor, but when the chips come down in the competition for leases with neighbors, these hapless tenants often feel themselves "beholden" or even "owned" by their landlords, and can easily be induced to perform many acts which -- except for this perceived or even real obligation -- they would never entertain otherwise.

The cruelest part of selling one's soul to the landlord, as in in any feudal order, is that it blinds those who could and should be practicing and observing the natural processes of cultivation to the fact that that many of the so-called "timed honored" traditional methods of agriculture are so tragically ingrained and obtuse among the family farmers competing for land and are themselves the reason for reduced yields. For many generations many such "family farms" have followed methods and procedures that, with a little real care and sensitivity toward the land, might have been observed to be hopelessly antiquated. Feudal orders are thus "stuck" in time. They cannot adapt and move forward because of the various material and psychological debilitations of the structure.

In the meantime, readily available -- through the talent of careful and practiced observers -- we already have the knowledge to enhance abundance by quantum degrees.

Brother Bear, a leaser rather than a land owner, has just this harvest brought in the crop that this year fared well enough to pay off all the equipment and mortgages.

The land under his stewardship produces yields astonishing to the feudal contenders, so much so that this year competitors used some of the aforementioned sadly dependent tenants to follow his harvest by hiding in the fields and attempting to count each and every load of grain harvested in an attempt to prove that Brother Bear was stealing loads from other fields. It was very easy for Brother Bear to notice the existence of such hapless spies parked for hours at a time out in the middle of nowhere. Mostly they were addle-pated drug addicts ill-equipped even under the best of circumstances to fulfill their mandates.

And such "work" can be be dangerous. A semi truck hauling a twenty ton load of grain creates a huge dust cloud as it leaves the field, making it difficult to impossible for the driver to anticipate and therefore notice the possible existence of a car with a sleeping spy in it parked where it should not be. On more than one occasion last summer a truck driver brought his rig to a screeching halt mere feet from such a vehicle, and thankfully avoided crushing to death the poor foolish young man charged with following the truck and learning the details of where the grain was unloaded and how many such loads had been carried that day. The unfortunate young man could not be induced to divulge his reasons for being there on that day, but a few days later he again ran into trouble, and on that occasion was so shaken that he gave in and told the whole story.

I hope to give details of this at a later time. It is a dramatic tale of exploitation and peril for the unfortunate tenants of the farm, and (as a force of nature itself, like the truth, which will always out) utterly failed in most enlightening and amusing ways as a method of delivering information to the feudalists. But this I must save for a later day, when the first chapter and the outline of the book have been written, a literary agent secured, and when some of the more technical details (not conducive to popular entertainment but important to the pedagogy of farming) have been shared with the appropriate entities in the Department of Agriculture. I do not think I should give this story away, as it were, without arranging somehow for some benefit to its owners and to the farming culture of the nation : )

Brother Bear is a born naturalist and, of his own God-given talent and hard work (using farming techniques all his own that he has evolved through his observations and practices, learned through listening quietly for three decades of farming and following the wisdom of the spirit in the land). Now, released from the insecurity of indebtedness, he can begin to speak freely about his knowledge that allows him, as a recent recommendation by his local grain co-op officer attested, to "farms like an 80 or 90-year-old farmer." By this I believe the aggie agent meant that Brother Bear is smart, and learns by observation year after year, to follow the spirit of the land.

Loss of fecundity experienced over the past half century is the result of the ignorance of Monsanto and other conglomerates whose real interest is, as in the case of all power players, to own everything and control everything. They, while manipulating the greed of regional feudal barons (many of them owners of what is sentimentally described as "family farms), would prefer to extinguish those like Brother Bear -- reduce them to their component parts (chiefly carbon) and return them to the earth where their voices will be heard no more.

But yields from the land can indeed be by quantum degrees more abundant than we are seeing today. Agribusiness as it is in practice today destroys the very processes it seeks to sustain.

Like the unfortunate administration in the White House today, it is yet another case of misguided belief that squeezing the neck of a golden goose is the method for producing golden eggs, when even slight patience and observation of natural processes will readily reveal that the husbandry of more golden geese is the true path to the desired end.

In peace profound,
Cristo

confidential to FP - Friday, September 23rd, 2011
Masquerading as RF ; )
icu!! : )

I get the feeling you may have contemplated and are perhaps still contemplating a denial of service attack. Forgive me if I err in this observation, and the offending server is not "inquiring" on your behalf. From here it "seems" that this is about to happen, and that it you who are doing it.

I belong to the "never complain, never explain" school of dealing with less than stellar-level professionals. Just because the "mean girls" approach to professional interaction (benignly framed as "office politics" which implies the full gamut of social evils determining one's professional "behaviors") is "just the way it is" in today's world -- well, this does not really imply that I must go along.

"Never complain, never explain" is the first ground rule for those who do not submit.

Did I ever mention "Suzy Shiner" -- a song I wrote for the ringleader of one such "community" -- of course the song remains unpublished because, because of who I am, things that are allowed to others are forbidden to me, and that includes enacting the acts of all who destroy others through dirty tricks (defended so effectively through blanket plausible deniability that operates in the electronic world and which the hapless marauders erroneously believe to be a boon or even a blessing in their lives). This I cannot do. Not that I wouldn't be very good at it if I did. I proved that as a young child. It was scary how good at it I was back in those days of self hatred and attempted self-annihilation. I literally could and did read people's minds at that age, and it was so easy to manipulate them it was ridiculous. I was the object of jealousy and hatred by my family , and also pouring forth from the barrel new evils of my own (such as my songs, which I write but don't always publish to avoid this error while enacting the necessary exorcism from my own being the dybbuks that are the very ideas themselves which I do not want and do not wish to promulgate). And so I wrote for her "Suzy Shiner" which includes the memorable line,
"Suzy Shiner, clever wife, da/ ta ' da/ ta' , butcher knife" (the part where the stresses lie in place of the lyrics proving it is not all that memorable ; ) I have it somewhere. Perhaps some day I will run across is again, and share it with you then ; ) Searing my heart with this forgotten lyric is not on today's slate.

Anyway, she is the one who tried (actually rather patiently, for a time) to enlist me in a campaign to eliminate "the person on the next rung up," (inviting me to lunch, to go on walks together, etc.) and in the end warned me, saying, "We like you, but if you won't help us do it to her, then we're going to do it to you . . ., 'cause that's our game."

Can you imagine this? That was the period of great opportunity at a large publishing company. My way out was the dangled carrot of a much better, and permanent as opposed to freelance, position -- but one I would have had to fight for, just as I was at that time being required to fight for my much lower position (which was nevertheless perhaps a half a rung up -- paywise, anyway -- from the one Suzy inhabited, and which made me a logical second choice to be her "next victim of industrial disease" (thank you kindly, Thomas Dolby). Anyway, I didn't fight to stay and didn't fight to climb, in fact left summarially to the regret and shock of my boss who had just the day before commended me for making him look good ("No one ever makes me look good," he said with sincere gratitude) and also to the regret of a friend who had just that day gifted me with a bottle of wine in thanks for defending her against Suzy's and Kelly's (the one Suzy was trying to get rid of) heinous actions. Unfortunately the same weakness of character (allowing vipers to sit in my boss's office by the hour talking about "frustrations," which sitting around and talking about "frustrations" being really the one and only tool such vipers have at all -- it is all done with language, there is no question of productivity or other concrete value playing into the process) that made him refer to the group as a "snake pit" was the very condition that determined he was and would forever remain himself the king cobra. So what could I do? If he were anything else -- a better man -- he could have ended the entire war by saying, "Get to work!" We were amazingly unproductive there. We had "duplication of effort" standing in for quality control, which means more than one person is doing each and every task, independently of one another, with the idea that "someone" would be able to compare the two and, where differences occurred, determine which was correct. This used to work back in the days of typesetting (errors in that field being pretty easy to judge), however our layouts were extremely detailed and complex (math textbooks), and moreover we were all charged with being more creative and user friendly, and therefore many things were ambiguous and no one could be held responsible for accuracy since all of our mistakes, by design, belonged to everyone.

Due to group psychosis, the industrial disease infecting our production process, I'm quite certain the total cost of creating these textbooks was probably around four to 6 times what a reasonable total would have been, and the extreme expenses of our operation drew dismay from the corporate entity, but in our defense it was always argued that math textbooks were a unique and fully opaque business that the suits could never quite apprehend. Moreover the economies of scale kicked in pretty early on in the sales department so it actually didn't really matter how much it cost. Even huge overruns were marginal amounts compared to the expected profits. There were literally millions upon millions of these editions of textbooks to be manufactured and sold throughout the national public schools system as well as in many nations abroad for some years to come (until the next edition was deemed necessary), and we probably could have spent quite a lot more before the production costs would have begun to make a difference.

What really turned out to matter was the corporate culture at the local level. The art director and the managing director were upset by the venom in the snake pit, though apparently not especially upset by keeping company with serpents themselves. For whatever reason, they seemed incapable of putting a stop to it, although I've never found it that difficult when I was in managerial positions. Our group held at least two and sometimes three meetings a day, if you can imagine that. Such meetings were almost never attended by the art director (who had more than one such group under her purview). In order to maintain my sanity and basic integrity, I worked hard cranking out chapter layouts on our side, and on another side (which no one else participated in) creating a series of tutorials and workbooks for the multimedia component of a different group's textbook. In the department to which the multimedia project belonged, there was no money left to create these, and so our managing director was asked if he could help to get them done "somehow," and he thought of me. He gave them to me to do -- autonomously with no daily meetings and little contact with anyone at all, which suited me very well -- and I did them, lickety split, and that is why he came and shook my hand and thanked me and said I had made him look good and also why, I am sure, I was asked to apply for a much bigger job with the company.

The fact that I was busily doing my own work on our project as well as taking care of the other group's minor emergency did not matter to my colleagues as long as they believed it was impossible to succeed at doing both jobs, and they really knew very little about it anyway, but once the workbooks were complete and I was being offered the much better job (being told simultaneously I might be too good a designer to spare -- this being the moment I could have chosen to fight to climb the corporate ladder) then it was as if a long-festering carbuncle came to a sudden boil ; ) Suzy (along with Kelly, who was extremely grateful not to be the target of the attack for once and jumped into the intrigue with both feet) cooked up an argument that was meant to be le coup du mort for me.

However I have dog hearing. This extremely acute audial sense explains much about my proclivity for finding melody everywhere. Among other things, I hear overtones, which are tones at specific intervals naturally occurring over time. In most interesting ways these "lead" to melody, drawing me into harmonies (chord progressions) that composer friend John marvels at, and about which he has questioned me closely. He is the sort of composer who has studied the work of others with great attention and arrived at his vast musical reach thus, encyclopedically, while I (like some idiot savant) seem to draw mine out of thin air. "Always the interesting chord," he says. "It doesn't quite . . . fit. Except that it does, and it takes you someplace no one else can find. And all your songs have this highly individual quality, they are distinct, and instantly recognizable as yours."

It's my hearing. I am a Lapp (my maiden name). Axel Munthe, in THE STORY OF SAN MICHEL speaks of travelling in winter, and his party being caught in a blizzard in Finland, taken in by Lapps. He describes them as strange, almost fairy-like people with strong intuition, extreme sensitivity to color and other heightened senses. That night, after the storm had ceased and the world was buried in new snow, the ten year old daughter of the house was sent out to find the sheep who had not come home in time. No one else could do this job because all were too well grown, and only she was small enough to walk upon the surface without crashing through the deep snow. Munthe was astounded to see this little girl leave alone at night, and even more astounded by her return some hours later with the herd of sheep, who were seen from a long way off leaping and bounding to break the trail home. Munthe asked the girl how in the world she had done it and she replied simply, "I could hear them bleating. They were huddled between some hills, so I followed the sound and showed them the way back."

Well, I have embellished the tale a bit. The facts are true to what Munthe wrote, but I have doubtless colored it a bit as I write it from memory -- but just a little. If you want to know exactly what he said, do read his memoir. I promise you it is an extraordinary tale of a magnificent man's life about a hundred years ago.

The point of mentioning it here is to say that that child's hearing is the kind of hearing we Lapps still have to this day, at least some of us do. I do. It is dog hearing.

My colleagues whispering their plots a couple of cubicles away might as well have been speaking directly to me. I heard every word that was said. Suzy said she would argue to our boss that it would be very unfair to all of them if I were to have done any less work on our projects than any of them had done during the period when I was doing both, that to keep peace among the other artists I must be given a few more chapters, that everyone must make a notebook of all their chapters (as complete possible and fully up-to-date) to present at the meeting later that afternoon, and that anyone whose work was incomplete would be in trouble.

"She can't do it, no one could," Suzy whispered, "and that will be that."

The funny thing was that I did do it. Working fast as possible, I discovered among the new chapters I had been given nearly everything was "to come." They simply weren't even ready to be given for layouts, and so I did what little was there to do, inserted "to come" all over the place otherwise, and handed in a fully-up-to-date notebook at the meeting.

This caused an upheaval that resulted in a third meeting, to be conducted by the art director, scheduled for the end of the day.

At this meeting the art director, a nice British lady on the verge of tears, was distraught about all the hatred and venom in the atmosphere. She asked for discussion but no one would begin. She then asked me, "Maybe you can tell us WHO IS DOING IT??"

All this time later I believe perhaps I should have said, "Why don't you tell us who it is sitting in your office for hours at a time talking to you about it? They are the ones who are doing it. It's a mind game, and no one is really 'doing' anything. In this case, the 'saying' is the 'doing.' You don't have to buy into it." But I was ready to take the bullet along with my moral victory : )

I said, "I am not aware that anyone is doing anything like that. I'm kind of busy. I hadn't noticed."

Very soon after this I resigned. And the song, "Suzy Shiner," came out to rid my soul of her power to anger and upset me.

That was another occasion, like this one, dear RF, where there is little I can do except follow the rule to "never complain, never explain."

Others, including you, may gossip and commit character assassination and worse -- far worse -- as much as they please. They and I are truly not on the same level. I shudder at the prospect. It is not that I don't understand it, or even master the process myself. I do, but choose against it. As a child, fighting for survival as the "smart one" among many unwanted daughters (while our parents continued having children to try to get sons), playing such games made me deeply self-destructive. Even now I am sure that for me it would be fatal. If others may do it, if it makes them happy, and gets them what they want, then who am I to say that at their level it is wrong? Perhaps they are meant to exist in mortal hell. Isn't that what demons prefer?

comforter - Saturday, September 17th, 2011
This is the first time I comment on your site, but I've been keeping up with your work for a while now. I admire the passion with which you write the articles and hope someday I can do the same. Love

Elli.W - Wednesday, September 14th, 2011
Sometimes things are not working as forecasted, thats life....

bye,
Elli

DeesseGoachek - Wednesday, September 14th, 2011
Good site, good luck!

- Wednesday, September 7th, 2011
Among the increasingly large number of visitors to this forum there are three or four regulars who appear to be some of the highly placed professionals in my field whom I most admire and with whom I have either corresponded very briefly, attempted to contact and received no replies, or had some slight personal interaction. Their attention to this forum is mostly merely noticed with slight chagrin but sometimes ranks a little further out on the chagrin to mortification scale. Today I also received promotional material from a popular showcase of new works for the musical stage, where an acquaintance's show will be presented at the end of this month. This very talented person happens to be one who was run out of the local musical theater workshop even before they first attempted to grab credit on my work and then, having failed, ran me out, too. You may read much more about these latter fellows in a few of the entries below, and in entries to come I am sure, since I'm definitely not over it.

But I must confess to a sense of envy at my friend's good fortune at being included in this prestigious festival this year, and even though I did not apply myself and do truly wish him the very best and even hope to attend a performance, this is I believe the source of a bit of a letdown I'm experiencing today. Persistent rain and unseasonal gloom may also contribute. It's too soon to remove the air conditioner in my office, and its vents let in a damp chill that has me dressed in long sleeves with the grayling cat on my lap for warmth as I'm typing.

For these reasons, included here today is a bit more of an autobiography than given in the past — this repeated from an application to a grant last year that resulted in a letter of encouragement (but no money) from the organization.

I'm getting perilously close to revealing for the first time things about my college years as concerns the "other" New York Times columnist alluded to a few entries ago, and that tale will be much better understood with a little more background.

I corrected my own dyslexia and taught myself to knit and crochet (left handed) before entering kindergarten. I knew many things inherently, such as the name of the fellow conducting the symphony performance on television (Arturo Toscanini), how to draw and paint with oils and watercolors, and how to write verse and invent melody. Thus, as a young child with quite a relatively vast knowledge of subjects I had never studied, somehow I managed to present a reliable force of entertainment with antics of intellectual prodigy, plus singing and dancing, at the local Lions and Rotary Club luncheons, and became a local "really smart little thing," knowing quite well that much of my knowledge and understanding was coming from a place beyond my own head — perhaps from my hands, and my own private geni.

In the third grade I tested at the high school level in every subject, and this caused the State of Oregon to offer me a place at the state school for gifted child�ren in Salem. Although I begged to be allowed to go, this was refused, without discussion. I was given instead extra measures of Lutheran religious instruction, along with the designation "The Genius" which, by the way, was not intended as complimentary.

Because I did not seem to need to be taught arithmetic or reading, I spent most of my early years at school alone in an old cloak room roughly fitted out as a painting studio and from whence I created (with the aid of an enormous opaque projector) large-scale murals and seasonal window coverings in water colors on butcher paper. For many years after, these were used to decorate the school. I remember driving past the elementary school when I was in high school and seeing the giant Easter lilies I painted in the fourth grade filling in all the windows on the second floor.

Our mother had trained to become a Navy nurse, but the war ended before she could be deployed. Nevertheless, going to nursing school in wartime had been an exciting experience for her — exciting and glamorous — so much so that her idea of working in a hospital would be forevermore approximately the same as everyone else´s idea of acting in starring roles in Hollywood movies. In order that she could pursue her career as an RN as well as give birth, or have a miscarriage or still birth every couple of years, our eldest sister was flogged into becoming the household drudge and primary child care provider at the age of nine. She was given full responsibility for the family´s evening meal and wash-up, ruling over the rest of us, the (eventually) three younger girls and two baby boys, during the after-school hours. When I think back on it now, I realize what a genius job she did at bringing us girls along in whatever servitude our ages permitted us to perform through various applications of her considerable talents for mockery, derision and playing us off against one another along with the predictable beatings and whippings. Through it all she pleaded endlessly for a piano, which for some reason she believed had been promised to her, and leading us in singing "like Dalena Hawks," the soloist at Peace Lutheran Church.

Finally, we did get a piano, and the girls (but not the boys) were given lessons. This turned out to be a rather pointless expense as our by now thoroughly mad sister secretly allowed no one to touch the piano. Even though we did sneak in and play it as much as possible, this remained a rather dangerous activity should she enter and discover the incursion upon her property. Music — starting with the piano and eventually including singing, and playing violins, flute, cello and guitars — framed a familiar source of discord in the family. Nevertheless some of us kept doing it, and as much trouble as it gave to everyone, for there was a great deal of competition and jealousy, still it was the best thing in life. Even our eldest brother joined in, and by the time I was in eighth grade our little family band was offered a Civic Music Association tour. I pleaded to be allowed to do this but no one else wanted it. The inquiries of the promoters were refused, without discussion.

In high school, a teacher asked me how I would ever choose which of the arts to pursue. "You are excellent at so many of them," she said. I asked her if there were any that would use all of the arts at once, and she confirmed musical theater and opera would, and were moreover both the highest and the most difficult forms to create. I was already quite over the moon for Rodgers and Hammerstein, Lerner and Loewe, Meredith Willson and others, and so with great happiness immediately replied, "Oh, good. I´ll write musicals, then."

Needless to say, any really smart little thing like me would have to try many other avenues of egress from that little town, including becoming a foreign exchange student (wrong kind of family background for the taste of the committee), getting a GED and leaving town (GED not available to students on the dean´s list), and applying for scholarships to colleges "back east," which, by learning to recognize and sidestep the warning signs that my mother was about to claim my father would not allow it, worked amazingly well except on the last evening when my mother arrived in my room where I was packing my bags to claim that my father would not allow it. But I had an ace up my sleeve. Since the age of 14 I had worked various jobs, and thus had my own money, and a checking account. I told my mother I would buy my own ticket, and if she refused to take me to the airport I would call a taxi. We had a fearful row, and the next morning she did take me to the airport after all.

Along the way to this great moment, our neighbor on the school committee whose husband was a nice jewish doctor had personally paid to send me to a summer session at the University of Oregon School of Music, and I had taken and passed various Advanced Placement exams, and so I entered college as a sophomore.
The findings of my friend and client Dr. Dr. G.N. (author, researcher, lecturer and clinician in neuroscience) confirm and validate my own sense that, to quote a lyric in "The Chain of Being" (encl.), "Even your mind is more than something that is all in your head."

LianeWollman - Sunday, August 28th, 2011
I'm here to say hello to each body.
Glad to meet you here.

Karakol - Saturday, August 27th, 2011
Really interesting blog, keep up the good work!

Strange poetry - Thursday, August 25th, 2011
Dalton and Jarold, it is a serious error to dehumanize this process by saying "money has no conscience" (which is a non sequitur, and a logical absurdity). Money and the software that enables the playing of the game on levels by quantum degrees different from the way it has been played in the past do not change the fact that these are inanimate tools of human being, and it is human beings who remain at fault in absence of conscience. I do not consider it clever to introduce such precious (even poetic) apologies. You cannot hope to develop strategy for improving what are certainly dire conditions in this way.

Mammon - Thursday, August 25th, 2011
I am sick of ignorant news writers who call every upswing in the Dow Jones a "rally." These "reporters" obviously know nothing about the market. Until a rising trend has been in evidence for a few months at the very least, such upswings might as well be called the "pump" side of the "pump and dump" game. Did you know that Clinton's rescinding of the Glass Steagall Act (which said there must be an actual share of stock for each option "put" or "called") returned market trading to the same (or worse) condition it was in during the "Roaring Twenties"? It is illegal for options traders to collude, but with the billions and billions of trade done every day, there's no one watching. I've tried to get financial journalists to talk about this, but they don't want to because everyone's doing it. Ask any trader, and they will tell you you are crazy if you aren't doing it, too. It's legalized theft.

It is not the corporations themselves but the analysts who determine what percentage or growth or contraction should be anticipated. Analysts effectively tell public companies what they must do, explaining things like huge bonuses given to people who figure out how to restructure to meet analyst expectations -- often by firing regular employees -- for they have protected the stock price (the "value") of the company. Of course this has nothing to do with the real health of the company, and is a good reason for companies remaining private or for returning to private ownership. But if everyone did this, there would be many fewer options for investors.

Nuncanict - Thursday, August 18th, 2011
My best to everyone, enjoyed visiting your sites.

Baghdad - Monday, August 15th, 2011
Very interesting topic , thankyou for posting .

Falmouth - Friday, August 12th, 2011
Hi, I love your project in your page, you are giving good information with knowledge! This web site is much helpfull! I'm Ana, I Live on Geneve, and I'm going to be a fan of this web site, my personal details may be boring but I will tell them off course I am very found of swimming as well as sports in general, and I also listen a lot Radiohead on my bedroom, I'm single now so boys watch out for me....just kidding :)! I already tried online dating it didn't work out very well.... I will also have to apologize for my writing it is the only way I get to talk with you.... Good evening to you all, love you all

Kulim - Thursday, August 11th, 2011
Just wanted to say your Blog is in my rss you got a way with words.. Cheers,

Cristo - Thursday, August 11th, 2011
I'm fed up with conservatives and republicans with the monomaniacal, sound byte approach to Romney Care. Romney is asking a modicum of intelligence from the base by expecting people to understand there are shades of gray in this matter. I hope Mr. Romney is not giving people more credit than they deserve for expecting them to understand that the "sound byte" is a manipulation of the stupid, lazy, and/or ill-informed.

Romney's team was energetic and creative, developing many ideas and proposals for solutions to Massachusetts's fiscal and social problems. The commonwealth was on the brink of bankruptcy, and he cut through the morass and largely corrected the problems within a matter of months, surely displaying extremely valuable skills and a vast intellect and depth of experience and knowledge that would serve the current national condition better than anyone else on the horizon.

As for "Romney Care" the Democrat legislature screwed up the health program Romney's team put together, and laughed happily at the double whammy it delivered, allowing them to spend ruinous amounts of money and blame it on Romney. "Romney Care" is an epithet invented by the left to discredit the best candidate we have. For a conservative to use it is analogous to me referring to myself as an "aryan" -- using a (made-up and nonsensical, since the "aryans" are dark-skinned people) term created by the opposition as a manipulation and to damage the strongest adversary they have. Stop doing this, please. You are playing directly into the tactical "advantages" of the left who are redefining using "hope and change" to mean "fear and sabotage".

I am certain the Mitt Romney learned an immensely valuable lesson from the experience of how the left can sabotage a good bill and then blame it on the bill's developer. Don't expect him to tip his hand and tell everything he knows, he is not an idiot. I do know that it will not happen again. That's what administrative experience delivers: experience, and the ability to anticipate outcomes and be ever more effective.

There are so many strong and honorable things about Mr. Romney that we can discuss, and yet you use your position in the public awareness to harp on the chords given on the sheet music of the left that have been distributed for you to help disseminate. If you don't understand this, you, sir, are among the stupid, lazy and/or ill-informed upon whom the message of Mitt Romney and the promise of his presidency are wasted.

To the latest attack from the Obama camp that Romney is "weird" I must say that is clearly coming from people who never speak to anyone who isn't drunk or stoned. I've met Mr. Romney, even attended a Christmas party he hosted, and I can assure you he is a delightful, personable, intelligent and elegant gentleman who will restore "presidential" as one of the descriptions of the POTUS.

He will not "apologize" for Romney Care because it is an epithet and also probably because he knows that one of the reasons he is the front runner is because people understand the complexity of the issue, and most are wise enough to realize the risk of speaking publicly as I am speak now. He must trust the people, and keep his own counsel on such things as he has learned and will execute on our behalf.

If you help to destroy this man's candidacy with such baseless, illogical and insulting rhetoric, republicans will be hoist on their own pitard. You have no reason to do this, except lack of imagination, lack of rigor in promoting new and exciting ideas instead of pabulum cant, and unwillingness to understand what Romney's supporters already understand: the adversary is far more dangerous than we have yet to observe. Without the need to be re-elected, a second term for Obama would unleash a far broader set of shockwaves to our nation than he has already delivered.

Why do you not rail against the "super committee" which will effectively block the legislative process, disabling the ability of regular members of congress to propose legislation and returning the process to the proverbial smoked-filled backroom where debate is private and the bright light of public discourse excluded? There is a scandal for you to decry.

This "super committee" is exactly the sort of powerplay that dictators use to gain their advantages.

Do not play into it, use your brain, and it will make you more popular and successful than regurgitated cant will ever do.

La Lima - Wednesday, August 10th, 2011
Hey there, just wanted to say hello!

cristo - Sunday, August 7th, 2011
Thanks for gracious comments about my prose. It is appreciated! I did read once again to discover whether I agree with your assessment and in the main believe the style helps to make the point, perhaps as you have said, marvelously : )

However these are usually rather quickly made, often in a break from other tasks, and so inevitably there remain a few grammatical or other problems.

To the editors among you, I mention this merely as a way of saying, "I know, I know -- I should have tweaked it some more. But really it should also give you tremendous satisfaction to realize than even I could benefit from your services.

: )

funny me!

Reading Dant� today, I am working on a vocal to serve as the "presentable sketch" for "I Ching!" and researching for the lyric to "Fada." At present these two songs are the planned finale of UPSIDE DOWNSTAIRS. The Dant� is a new volume comprising all three books of THE DIVINE COMEDY, including the engravings of Gustav Dor�.

I must say I got involved in INFERNO, the first volume, which is not likely to bring me much insight for "Fada," but what nightmares it may bring tonight! Heavens, it's simply frightful, althought it must have been a lot of fun for the poet since he gets to say exactly who is in hell, and in what circle of hell they reside, with what torments. There is one particularly horrendous illustration of naked souls tormented by creatures carrying long "rakes" (pitchforks), and the caption reads, "Whysofor thou piercest me?" Supposedly this is an eternal punishment with no hope of ending, forever. It's a little mindboggling to contemplate the culture that produced this work from a great poet.

I think I had better go outside and work on the porches. We were supposed to attend a Shakespeare in the Park production of COMEDY OF ERRORS" today, but it is pouring rain. About the only thing this weather is good for is swabbing the decks. I shall get to it, and certainly contemplate sins I may have committed that would result in being hurled downward for eternity to some of these dreadful realms.

If I am so unfortunate as to discover I may have committed any of these, I will drink some wine and do penance (since swabbing the decks in service of the cats is probably insufficient) and pray a better lyric will arrive.

So far I've only a litany of qualities Fada reveals to explain the many different loves in his life. Based on a few recent experiences of my own, these include, "She didn't have enough to be upset about/Needed something more to fret about// clawed her way to the top/ And didn't know when to stop// . . .
so far it doesn't seem to lend itself to a finale : )

until later,
xoxo, xto

MRSA - Thursday, August 4th, 2011
A friend who is a registered nurse recently commented about how distressing it was to be wearing a hazmat suit one minute for packing the wounds of a patient with one of these these deadly infections, then breaking for lunch. He was wondering how it is possible to consume nourishment after such fearful activity.

I said, "Eat your sauerkraut!"

For those who for whatever mysterious reason were unaware of what "MRSA" means, the nurse said, "MRSA is methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus. It's a drug-resistant superbug that causes awful infections."

Well, I guess I would have said, ". . . a CLASS of superbugs . . ." because there are more and more of them turning up all the time, even versions of what had previously been fairly benign infections.

For any who may have been likewise unaware, these MRSAs have been created by the overuse of antibiotics which gave the pathogens an accelerated rate of adaptation for survival.

On the subject of antiobiotic use and misuse, way back when Harvard Community Health Plan was created, the first health maintenance organization (HMO), the docs in Cambridge where I lived and worked and had my health insurance were ecstatic about being allowed to throw people into the hospital and experiment on them.

I had had a few bouts of tendonitis in my hand from having been a truck driver hauling grain during the harvests in Oregon where I grew up. This remains one of the jobs young people take in summer. As bad as the pay is, there is no time to spend any of the money because you work seven days a week, twelve or more hours a day, and so even though it works out to far less than minimum wage you do end your summer "vacation" with a few thousand in the bank because the only thing you can do at the end of the day is collapse — unless of course you want to create time to "party" artificially through using meth or worse, which was not my choice.

Frequently the trucks we drove did not have power steering, thus field driving (often through steep fields full of ruts in the mountain foothills) could wear on the hands. What was worse in my case, when my muscles got tired I wuld let the joints take the stress, hooking a finger or two over the wheel and cranking it without benefit of muscle exertion. This was obviously wrenching to the joints, but wasn't exactly painful and it gave the muscles a rest. The young are often unaware of the consequences of such "solutions" and mine included recurring tendonitis of the right hand in bouts of swelling and pain lasting about a week, every couple of years.

A few years later in Cambridge I experienced such an attack, which caused my newly minted doctor in the newly minted HMO to hospitalize me.

They put an intravenous (IV) drip at the site of the swelling and administered 500 iu's of the strongest antibiotic known to medicine, four times a day. I did ask her whether this was actually known to cure tendonitis, and she said it was not known, but worth a try. The attack lasted exactly a week, as usual, after which I was discharged with the only noticeable effect being a small brown spot at the site of the IV.

This spot grew slowly. I "erased" it a couple of times, literally, using the eraser of a No. 2 pencil to abrade the spot until the epidermis weakened and I was able to rub it off. However it always came back, larger each time.

That brown spot I finally got rid of just last year, using a little known product from Oceans Lab called "MMS" -- which means "miracle mineral solution" and refers to sodium chlorite, and about which they claim, among other things, that:

� The average Human body already contains about three-fourths of an ounce (.75 oz) of ClO2. Unfortunately when our levels fall we lose the protective properties of this compound.�

� MMS is too weak to break the bonds of protein in our tissue yet strong enough to blow apart the cells of all microbes.

I purchased some of this to use primarily as a cleaning agent but have also experiemented with using it in other ways. For example, it took about a week to destroy the brown spot on my hand. It created a "burn" in exactly the area of the brown spot. Exactly as claimed, it did not affect the normal skin at all. After a year or so, the brown spot shows no sign of returning.

Among the other claims of the manufacturer is that the compound was developed as a cure for malaria. I can't vouch for that application as I have never had malaria, but I can say that mixing up a small amount and leaving it open on a countertop removes cooking odors. I also use it (wearing latex gloves) as a disinfecting wipe on counter tops or other areas where a lot of people use retail disinfectants that are off limits to me because of multiple chemical sensitivity (cf. earlier post about my career in commercial art and exposure for many years to various chemicals).

Oceans Lab documents numerous cases of ridding the body of many infections and pathogens through the use of this compound, and I have no reason to doubt they are sincere people using good science. I am certain that were I to be so unfortunate as to acquire a MRSA, I would certainly add sodium chlorite to my treatment regime.

For those interested in trying it, do read the cautions carefully and follow all instructions as improper use of high concentrations of this solution could cause serious chemical burns. Search "Oceans Lab MMS" for more information, or visit them at humblemiraclemineral.com

I mention this merely to suggest there are other solutions besides antibiotics for destroying pathogens. I would further suggest that any home emergency kit should include a product like this for purifying water and other emergency conditions.

But a reminder about the virtues of home made sauerkraut is the real motivation for this discussion. It is a prevention rather than a cure. It boosts the immune system and provides numerous probiotic advantages like other fermented foods (such as naturally fermented vinegars, yogurt, tempe, kashi, and kombucha to name a few). With a strong immune system, problems with infections (whether bacterial or viral) are vastly diminished.

Unfortunately, most sauerkraut available in the markets of the U.S.A. are not "alive" with the beneficial components, having been "stabilized" or "preserved" with distilled vinegar, and so it is no longer alive. The "living" product (available at health food stores) can be quite expensive because of its relatively short shelf life compared to the (from a health if not gustatory point of view "useless") stabilized forms.

It is true that left undisturbed and under the right conditions, fermentation will continue until there is nothing left for these good bacteria to consume, often resulting in a stinky mess no one (or at least very few) would be willing to consume. This process slows with lowering temperatures, but the product really must be consumed when "ready" just like all good food, within a certain window of delectability.

Search "vinegar" in this blog for the post called "more goodness from the vinegar vapor" to learn how to make your own sauerkraut at home. It is easy and inexpensive, delicious and healthful.

I'm sure at some point in these talks I have reminded readers of research stemming from HIV and AIDS that revealed more than twenty years ago concerning the white blood cells which "antibiotic vendors" use to determine the presence of infection. It was learned, among other things, that the white blood cells are actually the immune systems's SECOND line of defense, the first being the "K" or "killer" cells discovered through those studies.

White blood cell counts rise only when a body is already very ill. It is the "K" cells that are the primary line of defense, and only when these have been depleted and the body really suffering symptoms of disease does the second line, the emergency back system of white blood cells, kick in.

Naturally fermented foods like sauerkraut (and other others mentioned above) feed and support the immune system by supporting the "K" cells.

It is a matter of personal convenience for those who prefer ignorance over knowledge to forget about this more than two decades old knowledge about the immune system. Like the false knowledge or partial knowledge about the evils of cholesterol, weight loss dieting, and other areas, the popular perceptions about health and wellness are too often illusions maintained through careless or studied ignorance of consumers, opportunism of drug vendors, and conflicts of interest by physicians who, like one of my friends who is a physicians says, "I am a whore for the pharmaceutical companies." The latter is the result of the misconception that the proper service of medicine is to commerce. Part of what I am doing through one of my musicals, HARRIER ANGEL, is to begin to reveal a more humane and appropriate model for health and well being.

A word to the wise: it's fun, easy, interesting and even entertaining to discover the many ways now known through good science that make it even more promising than ever for living live to the fullest through knowledge and the excitement of looking after oneself.

For truth and knowledge, peace and art,
Your little cristobal
�

Lisbon - Thursday, August 4th, 2011
holla friends! very informative its your guestbook! I also write guestbooks, like you, I really like but hate social networks like twitter ! As for me I am Lucy, I'm from Bristol and I am currently studying elsewhere in art now to get my PhD. Kisses, See you tomorrow ... with the hope that you enjoyed my first comment. I also apologize for my writing, is the only way to contact you ...

note from the moderator - Monday, August 1st, 2011
Farrux, your comments are interesting but it is no recommendation when searching their content to discover they have already appeared verbatim on numerous other forums. Speaking of the actions of, as you say, "riff raff."
: )
BTW, I'm very fond of Riff Raff, the character in ROCKY HORROR SHOW. He's a lot of fun.

Without wishing to denigrate your advice on how to proceed here, we hope to soon discover postings worthy of publication.

AlishKrisa - Saturday, July 30th, 2011
In relation to the Technorati rank it´s pulled down via an API (geez I think that´s what it´s called) as is Alexa rank & the script calculates the index - I just need to record the figures in a spreadsheet for upload.

sharcephoca - Thursday, July 21st, 2011
Hello ALL! My name is Vitaliy Kokosko!!!

xto - Friday, July 15th, 2011
Perhaps for the majority of human character types, there could never be enough money. Yet the game of making money can be a source of happiness, I'm certain.

Like most cases, one must allow for the vast differences in human types.

I know a woman who could never have enough money, who takes pleasure in her husband making ever more and more, and especially enjoys the sometimes overtly crass and hurtful things she does to others in the exercise of what she believes is the power of the money she controls.

I don't suppose you could be thinking how lovely it would be to be married to anyone like that? Yet I do assure you her husband loves her and does his best to put things to rights with the unfortunate people who find their own happiness has been an inspiration to, and thus a target of, this woman's rapacious nature. Fortunately for me she is an anomaly among the people I have met. I mention it merely because it is one example of having fun with wealth, probably not the sort of fun most people contemplating this subject would entertain.

Yes, I'm sure one can enjoy the game, play fair with fellow humans, prosper wildly, and enjoy every moment of riches well deserved.

Making money doing something loathesome cannot be much fun -- e.g., those who hate their vocation and feel diminished in the soul for believing they "must" do these things to survive at the level to which they [or their dependents] demand or have become accustomed.

Lottery winners often discover they have lost happiness in gaining fortune. I believe this is a debacle expecially characteristic of the newly wealthy, but how can they know they are beloved for themselves alone and not for the advantages others hope to gain by the association? By having plenty of wealthy friends, that's how! Some such friends may even have little interest in pressing the question of who has more. Lots of rich people hide their wealth, work regular jobs so they can be "just like other people," and perhaps they do not even question whether their doing so isn't depriving someone of a job they actually need, and whether it would not be better figure out how to be a good person while admitting who they are. Some wealthy people ultimately feel a huge burden in their fortune, and give it away.

I'm sure at this point you have figured out that how lengthy this section of the response could become : )

That point is that because of the multiple hierarchies of the affairs of living, it is impossible to generalize.

An experienced, successful entrepreneur (writer and executive director) who is one of the few (if not the only) individual to have won "best television drama" Emmies in each of three decades, Larry Brody told me, "Never use your own money."

I believe there is a great deal of wisdom in that, for having others invested in your success brings a team of like minded people to your table. Even having a vast fortune and doing everything oneself toward the fulfillment of creative aspirations may do little except place one at odds with every other competitor in the field. Even paying the hired help every penny they are worth cannot buy the kind of loyalty that skin in the game delivers.

As for the hope and dream of freedom, no doubt a certain amount of money is absolutely necessary -- and, of course the amount necessary for specific individuals varies widely.

At the risk of seeming a "moral relativist" it is my opinion that transgressions of sexual mores by a man whose wife understands him (Dom Strauss Kahn, e.g.) or even of the man of vast wealth and power (e.g., Governor Arnold Swartzennegger) amount to jaywalking compared to a man whose wife will be emotionally destroyed by his infidelity and/or a poor man whose family will be destitute and impoverished by the same actions.

Many Americans profess a rigid set of sexual mores that do not allow any level of transgression. I heard it frequently during those recent scandals: "Why should he get away with something that no one else is allowed to do?" This mindset is often called "puritanical" but we know very well from history that even the Puritans winked at certain things, perhaps because they understood that people are not perfect, and circumstances very often can and do dictate the amount of harm done by human shortcomings. Therefore I do believe it can indeed be "more wrong" for a poor man to succumb to weaknesses/temptations than it is for a rich man to do the same. In some ways money can purchase that margin.

Yet perhaps this also explains why it is said to be easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter heaven: even in doing no harm or little harm through failure to avoid temptation, because of the indulgences permitted by wealth, a soul may never be tested, refined, and clarified in the ways necessary for attaining those things cherished yet beyond the material realm.

Thank you for your interesting question. This immediate and highly incomplete exploration of thoughts that your comment provoked is in great part your responsibility, and not mine. I was only resting my voice between takes on the vocal track I am working on this afternoon and may, I hope, be forgiven for procrastinating in this way.

Until later, cheri --

Elvas - Friday, July 15th, 2011
We all want to be free but how is it we actually get to that point? Is it by making money, or just general happiness? In my opinion it's making money ... What's yours?

Montpelier - Sunday, July 10th, 2011
In it something is. Thanks for the help in this question. I did not know it.

Phil Adelphia - Sunday, July 10th, 2011
In brotherly and sisterly love. How could you know I was struggling today to remember the name of the first Boston club I performed in?

I LOVED the Adelphia. Of course, it is long gone. Probably this is a coincidence, and you mention this City of Brotherly Love to remind me that you are an adult and have not taken this latest episode to heart. For that I thank you.

And I appreciate your literariness very much, and your taking time to convey meaning symbolically which, as so often happens, resonates at levels you could not possibly have anticipated.

I hope I get to see your screwball comedy piece soon. You are gifted on so many levels.

Peace,

Philadelphia - Sunday, July 10th, 2011
It is remarkable, rather amusing idea

- Tuesday, July 5th, 2011
I get the feeling my visitors from Germany may have got their feathers ruffled. I am sorry. I do not wish to offend. I am not over it yet myself.

cristo - Tuesday, July 5th, 2011
Vous savez, je peux composer avec le fran�ais. Je suis s�r que tu veux dire, �Que ferions-nous sans votre excellente id�e!" Correct? : )

AdheMeTek - Tuesday, July 5th, 2011
que nous ferions sans votre idée excellente

Thank you - Tuesday, July 5th, 2011
I do so appreciate your kind comments. As you can imagine, it is with the greatest trepidations I have posted the most recent entry. I have tried to strike the right balance to inform and inspire the readership as well as mitigate embarrassment to beloved friends and colleagues whose only faults have been that their ambitious desires perhaps exceed my own at the level of willingness to bend others to one's will.

With the great hope of avoiding alienation of affection, I yet must strive somehow to counter impressions given by others. These are in all probability no less self serving than efforts I may make to set the record straight, and I know how little appreciated is any criticism whatsoever. I hope mine may be received in the humorous and loving spirit that I've tried to express.

I have been told it is imperative that the defense of my arts and my personal reputation is something I should be willing to render face to face. Friends "strongly encourage" me to meet with all those who have been given false or colored impressions of who I am, or whom I even suspect have heard such things. Perhaps it is my background in Lutheran protestantism that so ill prepares me to enjoy such a prospect!

This week I'm reading the history of Milton, Massachusetts, where a 350th anniversary of the town's founding will be commemorated in 2012 by galas and other public occasions. Some of these celebrations will include dramatic reenactments and speeches given at the direction of the Milton Players, a theatrical troupe in its 79th year where I am a new member of the board of directors.

Some of my reading of the town's history has been such an inspiration to my own plight as a person with some degree of ambition for success at the highest levels of cultural accomplishment who yet lacks the willingness to present the work of others as my own or to discourse at such intimate levels that seem to be necessary before defenses of one's own position and denigration of others's becomes possible. It is heartening to realize that the nature of my struggles may be seen very clearly reflected in the historical record. Human beings are, in all places and for all time, utterly consistent. If it makes me shudder to realize my fate may be forever to labor in obscurity, at least it also made me smile to think of some who did the same during their lifetimes but whose names resound today as our faithful and diligent leaders in the past while those who denigrated them and fought them at every turn have been forgotten.

I remain hopeful that Milton Players will be the ideal group for one such as I am, and that I may begin to see material progress on their behalf and my own. We meet tomorrow to begin discussions of Milton's 350th and the new season for the players.

I am also preparing a submission for a group who last year received my application quite late and "strongly encouraged" me to apply again this year "as the panel responded favorably to your work." I think I can write a couple of scenes for UPSIDE DOWNSTAIRS that will incorporate new songs written this year and last.

Still working on the vocal for "I CHING!" I'm also playing with steel drums (that is, figuring out how to emulate them in MIDI by layering other sounds). Without abandoning hope that a friend will have time to help with the arrangement, I do realize I must keep going and that I am ultimately responsible for arrangement of the demo myself. It's fun and exciting, but I'm sure others are better and faster than I at this. After all, even Richard Rodgers had his Robert Russell Bennett : )

This is a good time to add the writing of the next lyric into the mix -- one for which the music has already been written, a rare case.

I have also applied for another job today. I'm well-qualified for it, so hopefully something will come of it and I can cease wasting hour upon hour looking for work.

until later, friends,
xo

easiest way to make money - Monday, July 4th, 2011
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workclothes - Monday, July 4th, 2011
Thank You all for your help and perspectives.

One part of the problem - Friday, July 1st, 2011
I would not have said this a decade ago, but I now believe that part of the reason as a creator of works for the musical stage that, in the estimation of colleagues, I make a pretty good sister -- good for writing one's melodies "by virtue of singing this or that on the piece," as well as cooking and hostelry and occasional sewing and mending and other feminine roles such as standing in as presumed paramour when one wishes to present oneself as heterosexual, etc.

In order to get the aforementioned credit for my lyric (see "Lyric changes" below), I disconnected the offending composer's link to the song (that resides here on nine3) and changed the credit to read, "Melody by Cass and Mr. X. Lyric by Cass. Arrangement by Mr. X." This is as near as possible to a precisely correct credit on the song as it now exists, and I knew it would be a spur to the flanks that would ride that lyric back to the barn of its rightful owner.

The melody is indeed my own. I sang it after an unsuccessful outing of the original melody. That "first performance" had been sung by another soprano according to the notation provided to her. This performance was a deathly failure blamed on her lack of practice, but which more fairly should have been blamed on the fact that the melody's original composer lacks feeling for melody in English language vocal music.

This current unhappy episode concerning my credit on a lyric is the another debacle in a saga that began more than ten years ago.

In a workshop at that time, 3-member teams comprised of book writer, lyricist and composer were assigned to prepare a scene with one song to be performed for the workshop a month later.

Our team set an appointment to discuss the scene we would write. I, as the lyricist, arrived with a suggestion that I thought held promise, ripped from the headlines, based on the murder trial of an Italian shoe designer. However the book writer and composer (both men) had discussed it in advance and already decided that we would write a scene from TALES OF THE CITY.

Creative work for me carries an extreme premium, as it requires a special kind of effort that not always but often does demand large blocks of time in the midst of other business and travail, and very often concludes with nothing on the board, a laundry piled high, with ill clad people, and the house in disarray. DUNCAN'S SONG, for example, as it stands now, took a full six weeks to write. In that case the song had to be written twice, due to the conceptual error (mine) that it should be like a Beatles song. The lyric of the first attempt was pure treacle, but the music will perhaps be usable at another time -- it is nice, but it would not serve Duncan, alas. And so I had to begin from the beginning, and let me assure you that six weeks is a very long time to live without housework being done!

Therefore I know that even wariness about ill-found beginnings cannot always prevent these kinds of things from happening, and so I take as many cautions in advance as I can surmise.

Therefore, to the TALES OF THE CITY concept, I argued that it would be unwise to expend creative effort toward a project whose rights were controlled by others. My colleagues argued that they would pursue the rights straightaway, but as the text was and remains an exceedingly popular work I doubted we would be able to secure those rights. To our collective ignorance, this concern happened to be very well founded, as we were to discover some months later when we learned that exclusive rights to the text had indeed long since been assigned elsewhere.

Nevertheless, at that time I did not fight the losing battle -- it was already two-to-one, and I was the odd woman out at the inception, and so we set about the work. The composer said he could not begin without a completed lyric, therefore I sat down to it immediately and after nearly two weeks of approximately full time effort I delivered the poem.

The composer, the aforementioned Mr. X, a man with not bad academic credentials nevertheless rather sadly discounted in this town (that for this very reason we affectionately and correctly refer to as Beantown), set about his part and delivered the music in another week or so. In the meantime, the book writer (of the highest possible academic credentials, being a Harvard man) had in the meantime not set pen to paper for a single moment and very nearly missed the deadline, delivering the dramatized scene (as far as I could tell, a direct representation of a scene from the novel) at the workshop on the evening of the presentation. This was not really a problem since it was given with script in hand and didn't require advance rehearsal.

We had rehearsed the song in my studio, just once, and for that reason I'm sure I still possess -- somewhere in the piles of cassette tapes I have kept over the years -- probably one of a very few copies of that performance. Even with the composer directing her, the unfortunate singer could barely make sense of it at all, and by the evening of the presentation had forgotten most of that.

I was rather unhappy to see such a fate for a lyric I had labored upon so intently. I played it for my husband and asked him whether he thought there was any hope for it and he said he thought it simply awful.

Not one to waste my efforts, especially when they were as bright and funny and politically correct as that one (full of sexual innuendo and gay references to suit the taste of our audience at the workshop), and so I decided to see if I could sing it myself, with whatever melody came to mind.

And that is the melody that exists on the song to this very day. And that, in consideration of Mr. X again restoring my lyric credit to me after having been given a taste of the disparagement levelled upon me, as a female, as a matter of course. The melody I now once again ascribe on the nine3.com page in a manner that implies its authorship by the orginal composer, and this is perhaps overly generous of me as I apparently even now resent having done it : )

I don't think I should have done it. I think I should have left it the way I made it yesterday, as the device that forced him to credit me on his page.

But, when we said goodbye on Sunday night (as he was leaving at daybreak on Monday) he said, "You are kind." And I am, at least insofar as being unwilling to impose on others (for more than a little while) the same conditions that so angered and upset me and which I prevailed upon for years to correct.

You see, these are not the only episodes in the saga of the misrepresented lyric credit.

Long ago, after the sorry soprano took Mr. X's melody before a live audience, after I repurposed the song under a new title, to be sung by a different character in a different scene, as part of UPSIDE DOWNSTAIRS, a work in progress of my own (nothing to do with TALES OF THE CITY) -- and prevailing for some time upon Mr. X to provide me with my copy of the music, he did at last give it to me. Then what to my amazed eyes did I discover but that he had given Harvard Man credit for my lyric!

It took a full five years to restore my name to my work. As many times as I requested that he do it, and remove Harvard Man entirely because of the fact that not one single word on the lyric had been written by him, that many times he had ignored me. Once I even wrote to Harvard Man in email, subject line: "Stop it, Mr. X, you're embarrassing me" -- suggesting that Harvard Man himself should insist on the removal of his name from work he had not done. I still own these emails today, as I own all emails of any significance that have been sent to me.

What do you supposed Harvard Man replied? Yes, I imagine you are perfectly correct in your assumption that he would in fact write to me saying that he thought he did deserve to have the credit for the lyric because, as book writer of a work that would never see the light of day because we had no right to it, he felt he should at least be given credit on the lyric as the book writer's credit normally does not appear on the music.

So after five years of this maneuvering, I finally did a mortise (what we now call "cut and paste" in the electronic world, no longer involving the use of an Xacto knife and mortising tape) removing Harvard Man's name. I showed it to Mr. X, and at that point -- really in a matter of days -- he presented to me a new copy of the music printed out from the official Finale file, that said, "Lyric by Cass."

I created Mr. X's first web site, where the song was properly credited. But recently he has found another female to create a new web site for him, and so you can likely well imagine my great annoyance that with the new web site this lyric credit problem would once again flare.

It was nearly enough to make me rescind my invitation for hospitality during his recent appearance in Boston.

How I came to notice it is equally strange and annoying. Mr. X called me to say that literally within one or two minutes of his new web site going live, someone wrote to him from the web site saying the singer of the song was incorrectly attributed (for he had credited my vocal to the original singer, who apparently has alerts set by her fans to let them know whenever a reference to her appears on the web). The singer's fan said, "That isn't her singing at all." Then the fan wrote another note a few minutes later that said, "That isn't even the same melody that she sang."

So somewhere out there in the ether that singer is still singing, and has her adoring fans, and so it was she, indirectly, who let me know about this latest embroglio, and in the bargain reminded me that the melody on the song is mine and not Mr. X's (a matter of small consequence at the time which I graciously ignored but which suddenly presented itself to me as a way to show him how bad it feels to be ill treated by one's friends.

If Mr. X hadn't called me about this email from the other singer's fan, I would not have known that he was once again, for whatever reason, doing what he does to avoid acknowledging my part in this work.

I was literally within a few moments of calling my husband and asking him to help me come up with some excuse for why Mr. X would not be able to stay with us after all, and beg off altogether, but once again my heart melted and I couldn't do it -- leave him in the lurch.

While he was here I did try to get him to fix the error, but it didn't happen. Darkly lurking in the corner of my heart remains the suspicion that these slights are the result of his allegiance to Harvard Man, who (as I believe I mentioned) now works at The New York Times. It also occurs to me that perhaps Harvard Man has listed this work on his resum�! Would not that be a tale fo the city, eh! another plagiarist on that staff!

Well, everyone knows about the the infamous Jason Blair who got caught faking stories at NYT -- yet I happen to know of another case (not Harvard Man's, which I must emphasize is only my conjecture of possible explanations for why Mr. X persists after all this time in obfuscating the author of that song lyric) of a plagiarist and criminal who has had a by-line there and whose resum� (received by them but obviously not assidulously validated) includes false information about her academic credentials, among other things.

Of that I happen to have intimate knowledge, but it shall remain a tale for another day. For now it must suffice to say that I know first hand that the awarding of a columnist's job a prestigious old school institutions of so-called journalism is very often a means of "kicking upstairs" someone who, in less genteel society, would simply be fired.

And now, having once again restored "Music by Mr. X" on this song, I am wondering whether I should change it back again to reflect the fact that that is my melody? It's a question of whether it matters a little or a lot. A big sister to him I suppose I am: I don't like to take anything away from the bratty little brother. Probably it will become an issue again some day. As they say, "Truth will out."

Lyric changes - Thursday, June 30th, 2011
The full form of "I CHING!" is now complete, with minor adjustments in the lyric, as is usual in this process. However, somewhere in the teeth of the laboring to bring this piece into the world I did lose the compulsion to update the lyric at every turn.

The song is now a final draft form, having been sent to a friend for comments, corrections to my guitar chord spellings (which are also written as notation. Owing to their idiosyncracies I'm not yet certain of the correct names) and so forth. I am hoping he will be inspired to toss it into a quick arrangement that will be sufficient for the purposes of a demo, and in the meantime I am learning to sing it.

As you may know, we entertained a guest last week while he was being feted about town in honor of his world premiere at Boston Pops. I'm sure he was a very good guest as house guests go, with the possible exceptions of his bringing mending and sewing for me to do, carrying no American currency and thus requiring spot cash for various purposes, refusing to correct the oversight of providing my creative credits on his new web site (as quite possibly his friend, who had conspired with him for more than five years to have his own name on this work to which he contributed not one single word and who now works at the New York Times as a culture writer, may presumably be of some future use and thus continues to require maintenance of this charade in the form of crediting no lyricist among the many entries where all other lyricists are credited), letting me know that as long as I never give up I need not consider myself a failure, and inviting his own guest (someone we had not had the pleasure of meeting before) to stay here without mentioning it to us.

His gift to me was two small heart-shaped lumps of tea from Japan, the equivalent of two cups of tea.

He mentioned having met the former ambassador and his wife who have now immigrated to live in Boston, and who now may afford a place for him to stay when in town in future. It will be interesting to discover, should he indeed be invited to stay with them, whether accommodations will include a private apartment for his own use such as he has enjoyed here, and whether I will be made aware of his presence in the city at such a time.

Do others have such friends as these? I have learned much this week!

At the concert we sat in the second row at cabaret style tables, right in the center. Symphony Hall is absolutely amazing. Even from such seats, the orchestra's sound doesn't rush out at you at all. It's truly amazing to be so close that every detail of the beloved maestro's and the orchestra's performance, rather than blasting a muddled cacophony, sounds even more creamy and fabulous as from the balconies (the only other places I've ever had seats, and it also sounds very, very good way up there). I had been impressed with the sound from the cheap seats, and now that I've experienced it from about ten feet away I realize what it means when it's said that Symphony Hall is truly an acoustic miracle -- one of the finest venues in the world.

The audience were genuinely delighted with my friend's piece, but he assumed a rather snotty posture about so many things I could hardly believe it. I found it shocking, especially when he was quite audibly mocking the audience at "Armenian Night" (which is the only reason his piece was included) and said of the Armenian "Lord's Prayer" in the program (with everyone singing, which I thought rather sweet), "They definitely need to take that out of the repertoire." He also hated the non-Armenian parts of the program and could not contain his disgust at the tribute to horse racing (including "Camptown Races" -- hey, it's the Pops! what does one expect? A great fan of all things equine, I quite enjoyed it) and Ricky Skaggs. The featured singer was international opera star Hasmik Papian, a wonderful artist who performed some great (familiar) operatic arias as well as traditional Armenian music plus my friend's song.

Thanks, but ?? - Thursday, June 30th, 2011
Those who appear to have interesting ideas yet post in languages expressed through fonts other than those used in English and the romance languages: Please remember that I no longer have all those fonts on this machine and therefore cannot hope to translate your messages. I suggest you translate your messages into English via Google Translate or some other translation engine before posting.

Madagascar - Tuesday, June 28th, 2011
Appreciate it for this post, I am a big big fan of this site would like to continue updated.

Pops! - Thursday, June 23rd, 2011
My dear friend has got his piece at the concerrt of the Boston Pops on Saturday, and as I am hosting him this week I shall be delicously and ecstatically present at his table when he takes his bows for the world premiere of his piece.

So that explains why I have not been talkng to you very much lately.

That and "I CHING!"

I absolutely love this song. It is coming right along, having seen the complete system appear in notation as of this very night. There is only one other verse, and it admittedly does have to be opened up a bit to accommodate the extra phrases (yes, I cn write it exactly to form, you idiot, but why should I considering how excessively boring that would be)!! So yes it is a little more work than it might be, and worth every second. So it is nearly there. I can't stop singing it. It is most amusing, I assure you! will post demo asap.

While he is here for the week, my friend (as a collaborator) is tending to creation of a new arrangement of "Galadrial's Aria," in consideration of the great new instrument sounds he is capable of creating without the services of a full symphony orchestra. Being the husband of a full professor sitting in the Canada chair has its advantages! He is doing fine, as are we all.

Tata, darlings. I am so gladdened by the signs of your interest in these procedings, and saddened that I have no staff as you do, Sir ALW! to proceed apace on multiple fronts simultaneously as you do!! Do, please give me a jingle when you decide it is really past time for assisting in the development of my piece in BWI! At least in that remote corner of the world of your enterprises, I reckon you need me as much as I need you.

For LLL,
it LALLA,
cx

casz - Thursday, June 23rd, 2011
Hello, you Romanian! I get the feeling I would like it very well in that land. Welcome.

Nuttsinee - Thursday, June 23rd, 2011
HI, I just joined this community. I m from romania. I like this forumhope u like me too ;-)

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Angele - Thursday, June 16th, 2011
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casz - Monday, June 13th, 2011
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Neuroscience - Wednesday, June 1st, 2011
Thanks, viedlibre -- what you say is true, and very important. Those of you who read here regularly know I do not accede lightly to any current findings of science, for I have lived long enough to see how the newest expressions of "science" so sadly and far too often more resemble pure "politics."

Perhaps this point is too obvious, for isn't this the case throughout history, especially when reminded that "politics" merely describes the processes of change -- all processes of change. The sciences, like all fields, are "peopled" and that means imperfect and not only because of benign factors like honest mistakes and incomplete information ("there are things we do not know we do not yet know we do not know"), but also by such elements as the status quo and its bully pulpits positioned so strongly to protect its own investments, and is even more deeply (and possibly even more often) corrupted for the protection of other, purely monetary interests.

In my life time I have witnessed the same again and again. Remember how for decades "science" was called in to defend the tobacco industry: when "anecdotal evidence" strongly insinuated the dangers of smoking this drug (nicotine, which does have medicinal qualities and could probably be used very well in other applications that do not impair the functioning of the cardio-vascular system), it was said "only long-term studies over vast populations can verify this." Therefore, for the contingent of the wishful thinking and the heavily invested, until such time as studies upon studies had been proven and verified, the truth could not be considered to be the truth without the qualifying and marginalizing note about "anecdotal" evidence.

Now we are seeing the very same use of science defending cell phones. I heard this just yesterday: "Until long term studies over various groups have been conducted and verified," and so on . . . I suppose we cannot "know" that the brain cancer that has appeared next to the site where the cell phone has been pressed how ever many thousands of times has been caused by the cell phone.

This is a particularly irritating case because of how simple it would be to greatly reduce the dangers. For example, not pressing the cell phone against the brain but using additional wireless interfaces to place it at some remove. But that is the hard line "science" is taking, defending the stakeholders of the primitive dangerous versions of what could soon enough be rendered harmless, at least insofar as the cancers they have caused if not in the loss of freedom for those willingly placing everything about themselves within constant surveillance of the power hungry (which is another subject
: ).
But you, viedlibre, have expressed ideas here that I know through associations in the neurosciences are absolutely clean and fresh. I am very glad you posted. I'm sure "exercising" the brain functions through cognitive work is an excellent approach, and am also a great proponent of nutritional support of brain health through supplements like soy lecithin, l-glutamine and several others.

Your post also gives me a chance to mention to friends and visitors that Georg Northoff (professor of neuroscience, philosophy and mathematics) and John Sarkissian (composer) have a terrific new piece for the "edutainment" concert stage called "Gruesome Grey Pulp" that discusses through music, humor and metaphor some of these wonderful discoveries about the nature of the brain and developing strategies to enhance its function, in a way that is simple and memorable. It is a new piece, but has already been given in China, Canada and Germany -- to the delight and enlightenment of their audiences. The knowledge arising from science (and in this case its marriage with art) is truly wonderful.

Incidentally, Sarkissian is also the composer of a new piece being performed at Boston Pops this month. Any of you who know how staid and deliberate is the chosen repertoire of even this "popular" grandchild of the the exceedingly grave Boston Symphony Orchestra might take cheer that the winds of change must be brisk indeed.

After they have met Mr. Sarkissian face to face, I would not be at all surprised to learn even they realize that by every standard he passes muster as an artist, composer and raconteur, and that they can do no better than to encourage both his works and his audiences through greater exposure to his talent.

And by this I mean new talent, fresh and real, and very well schooled in many places around the world, and also in five languages and no bullshit.

Thank you.

vieldibre - Wednesday, June 1st, 2011
As many people hit middle age, they often start to notice that their memory and mental clarity are not what they used to be. We suddenly can't remember where we put the keys just a moment ago, or an old acquaintance's name, or the name of an old band we used to love. As the brain fades, we euphemistically refer to these occurrences as "senior moments."

While seemingly innocent, this loss of mental focus can potentially have a detrimental impact on our professional, social, and personal wellbeing.

It happens to most of us, but is it inevitable?

Neuroscientists are increasingly showing that there's actually a lot that can be done. It turns that the brain needs exercise in much the same way our muscles do, and the right mental workouts can significantly improve our basic cognitive functions. Thinking is essentially a process of making neural connections in the brain. To a certain extent, our ability to excel in making the neural connections that drive intelligence is inherited. However, because these connections are made through effort and practice, scientists believe that intelligence can expand and fluctuate according to mental effort

FedecEdesee - Saturday, May 28th, 2011
Hello Sirs and Madams very happy to be here.

new song updates - Friday, May 27th, 2011
I'm sorry for those of you who have subscriptions and keep getting alerts that seem to make no sense.

I am compulsively updating the lyric I'm working on. With several copies floating around in various workspaces here, it's maddening to keep finding old versions, and that includes the one I put here. These changes are probably unnoticeable to anyone but me. So apologies, this peppering of notices is worthless to you.

BTW, I've got the verse melody and harmonies nailed down at last. Now I hope I can dream the rhythm for the refrain again, as that happened a week ago but I lost it. Dream streaming the bridge that way would be nice, too. This is wearing me out.

Happy Memorial Day. Remember our veterans, fellow Americans -- especially The Greatest Generation guys, who are so precious and getting fewer and fewer, their numbers reduced by 1,000 or so each day, as I understand it. God bless them.

Rossio - Friday, May 27th, 2011
Hi there this was the 3rd time that I saw your web space and I liked it very much! Good Work!
Bye Bye

het up indeed : ) - Thursday, May 26th, 2011
Yes, of course you are correct. I was simply half mad with sudden heat and humidity. A couple of days ago I still needed the heat on, and suddenly today it surpassed 80�F in the studio. It was insufferable, and I've been really crazed with this lyric. Do, please, excuse the ravening surge.

By "barbers" I did mean literal Barbers -- so if that is not you, then you are not the ones to whom I refer : ) I do very much appreciate and feel somewhat encouraged by some of the others who have taken the time to send notes.

Later I played in the music room where there is a real piano. It is cooler there, as it is on the ground floor. I must wait while the cats eat, now, and bring their food in after a half hour at the most to prevent the raccoon from feeding at their dish. The little beast is adorable, and the cats are fond of him, too, but if he gets comfortable here he starts climbing all the way up to the roof to sleep in the chimney and has already knocked a chimney brick down. Therefore I must go there a few times a day to let the cats feed, then bring their dish back inside.

While somewhat less productive in some ways than working up here (which is equipped only with a synthesizer) the piano really "sings back to me" and is much more lively, with overtones ringing all over the place and everything resonating between me and the instrument and the room -- it's delightful and I think I shall stay there most of the day tomorrow. The half hours there while the cats feed pass like two minutes.

This evening I was also able to walk by the sea at high tide where the parasailors were flying around in the breeze, and now -- by comparison with this afternoon at least -- I am feeling much better, thank you, practically reposeful if not actually sedate.
Blessings,

all het up - Thursday, May 26th, 2011
Surely you don't wish to be misunderstood by your legions of friends and benign potential investors?

iLove Marc Kudisch - Thursday, May 26th, 2011
Everyone interested in theater should check out American Theatre Wing's interview with Marc Kudisch. It's an hour-long feed, and at that is a bit much for someone with my ADD but also supposedly (REALLY) writing UPSIDE DOWNSTAIRS.

My remedy is to play it over and over and over. Like the oversize poster of the Periodic Table and Atomic Data chart on my studio, somehow it sinks in, and on some other level I get it.

"When I wonder what for if I see you no more
"He says, 'The horse wanders but returns of its own accord."

I wish to h*#% I could ask my beloved other about whether this melody is completely ripped off from somewhere else. It's so real to me now I almost think I stole it. And, then, for all its interesting harmonic qualities it seems oddly static, probably because I've been playing the first two phrases for the entire six-line verse. Is this utter crap?

Unfortunately all my beloved others are at this moment estranged, suffering no less than I, no doubt. But unavailable to me as I am unavailable to them. Except for Marc Kudisch.

I'm praying for the moment when I get to the refrain, because that has a special rhythmic riff and breaks out in the mysteries of faith and hope.

Then I compulsively look at the log of my visitors --, and I hate you, you barbers! I see you! Buzz off. I mean you, whose attention at such moments as these could help us both instead of leaving me floundering in my solitary me-ness and you floudering in your own voyeurism. You think these careless efforts at hiding are cute? You're hurting me, go away.

So I am writing this song, but I am also finishing the first act of the book. There is some relief in this split. It nourishes me via procrastination, as at this moment each action in avoidance makes a step forward on the other extreme.

I'm reading Robert Starer's memoir, CONTINUO, and he relates how his first notice mentioned that the work had been written literally with gloves on. As you may know, I work all winter in this studio with gloves on, the fingertips clipped off. Sherer did the same, and for the same reason (because getting the heat on was too much trouble -- in his case in Vienna it took two hours, and in my case it makes noise). What he failed to mention was that his gloves were also worn while drinking coffee with schnapps. He said it was a good thing the biographer didn't know about the schnapps. But now I know about the schnapps, and decide to try something like that myself, and so I've had two shots of dark rum, straight up, with my coffee. And I want more, but now I am in the studio and there is no rum here. But there is Marc Kudisch streaming through the internet, so I think I will manage.

Until later,
xoxo,

Brad - Thursday, May 26th, 2011
it's the exact info. i need,many thanks!

confidential to shornteel - Tuesday, May 24th, 2011
Do not wonder, I see you. But no one who loves me would say I should take such a chance, considering your strange approaches.

Businesslike methods are the only ones I may indulge. Please be serious or be gone.

Thank you for understanding.

casz - Tuesday, May 24th, 2011
You are right, Cristo -- there were two forces rather like gravity in the ancient lore. As I recall "cohesion" was the force that kept things of like quality together, whereas "adhesion" was indeed the force that tended to draw them together. Therefore "adhesion" would be correct in this context.

Thanks for pointing to this interesting distinction.

xto - Tuesday, May 24th, 2011
Casz, re: the moon comment below, as I recall there are two ancient principles that antedate Newton's gravity, and they were "Adhesion" and Cohesion" -- I forget the precise distinctions. It is subtle. But there is a possibility the force you refer to between the earth's water and the moon's is not adhesion but cohesion. Can you look it up and let us know?

This is interesting.

I Ching - Tuesday, May 24th, 2011
Now I have the harmonies and some melody for this song of Mary's in UPSIDE DOWNSTAIRS. The versification is somewhat reduced, and nodding to rhyme but at the same time demanding I must be allowed my modernity. Too much rigid scansion and incessant rhyming sounds a little too much like Tennyson or Kipling or the jumped up masters of nothingness in the gangsta rap. But it's playing me now, which is how I know the time has come to hammer it all together.

I'm still waiting on what I expect should be significant rhythmic characterizations on "I CHING!" This plagues me roughly now but will I trust be a force of memory if not of nature herself when ultimately it plays upon the ear. This is how it goes now:

I CHING!

He told me not to ask about you, my tale of woe
I know what he will answer to, "Should I Let You Go?"
He'll always tell me, "No," you know? "You know who you need beside you."
When I wonder what for if I see you no more
He says, "The horse wanders but will return of its own accord."
So all I can say is I wait for that day
And what I pray, until then, "So be it. Amen!

"May the devil burn up on your threshold if he tries to come through your door"

But what would it be like if . . . [instr.]
You would see me? I Ching!
Three times you've paused and then, turning
Three times I've been rescued from burning.

Maybe you only turn to the light when you learn you can't hide in the dark
Well, I don't know, and then I throw K'un and fu, which means, "A fresh spark!"
And so I ask Him how should I act towards you
And He says, "Intractible youth
"You know the score. Ask me no more
"I've already told you the truth."
So all I can say is I wait for that day
And what I pray, until then, "So be it. Amen!

"May the devil burn up on your threshold if he tries to come through your door"

So what will it be like when . . . [instr.]
You will see me? I Ching!
Three times you've relented
Three times I am heaven defended

So what will it be like when . . . [instr.]
You will see me? I Ching!
History reinvented
With all of its sadness amended

So what will it be like when . . . [instr.]
You will see me? I Ching!

VAMP

casz - Sunday, May 22nd, 2011
I think it's some form of water, which would explain why it always faces earth and exerts great influence on tides: i.e., the moon's water and Earth's water are trending toward "adhesion."

For those who are unaware, adhesion is an ancient principle similar to gravity that describes the natural tendency of like substances to draw towards eachother.

I'm glad you asked : )

A simple experiment is to fill a bowl with a relatively large surface area with water, let it settle until it is still and calm, then add a few small drops of oil at great distances from eachother. The oil droplets will drift toward eachother and form one drop.

narbeh - Sunday, May 22nd, 2011
Mare means "sea," but maria on the moon are plains on the moon. They are called maria because very early astronomers thought that these areas on the moon were great seas. Maria are concentrated on the side of the moon that faces the Earth; the far side has very few of these plains.

What's your idea? Is it water or ice?

Bethesda - Sunday, May 22nd, 2011
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numbis_08 - Thursday, May 19th, 2011
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Lome - Tuesday, May 17th, 2011
I am impressed with this website, really -- I am a fan.
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Jo - Friday, May 13th, 2011
When you feel like giving up because gratitude eludes, remember that God is delighted in your efforts. Don't stop showing kindness because you feel unappreciated. The author of good things appreciates you very much.

Macau? or Mumbai - Thursday, May 12th, 2011
Hi, Kim -- Your email said you were from Mumbai but the isp was in Macau, so I don't know where you are, but it probably doesn't matter as there is no impediment to executing these projects remotely.

You could upload your raw video and pictures and Skype to discuss terms and production specs.

Email me directly if you would like to discuss. Contact links appear on most pages of nine3.com (just not this page as it makes me a spam target). Good luck.

DancingKim - Wednesday, May 11th, 2011
Hello, i'm a professional dancer. i'd like to see to make a showreel with regard to my promotions. I also would like to use some animation. Can someone suggest me a fantastic animation studio, but not really very expensive? I'm here for 3 months for a tour.
Love
Kim.

Hi again 4 lovely Rita - Wednesday, May 11th, 2011
It's time to take a break from the relentless Windows 7 pseudo operating system -- and do something fun for a few minutes.

Did I tell you I purchased a Windows 7 machine to enable use of Skype without having to upgrade the Mac's operating system?

Long ago I used to stay up-to-date on both platforms but since Mac OSX the Macs cover just about everything, except in this case Skype. A collaborator who doesn't type fast needed to be able to communicate without spending hours writing emails, so I got a cheap Dell machine to fill in the gap without the time sink and uncertainties of upgrading the operating system on a machine with a huge disk.

To give the new machine something to do, I've been trying to see what else it might be useful for, since it's sitting right here next to me taking up space against the moment when someone needs to converse. But, my good lord, it's really pretty stressful trying to strap my brain into the Windows 7 modus operandi, which feels more like a strait jacket than a tool. I used to dislike Windows but not excessively since I loved the machine's raw speed and was pretty used to it back then. But I swear, Windows 7 ! it's worse than ever! Unless one is very careful, anything saved may disappear into the machine not to be found without agonizing over what seems like a ridiculously complicated architecture. Anyway, heaven forfend, all this needless stress is emerging just in time to see Skype purchased by Microsoft. I'm sure they will ruin it in the name of creating as much work as possible for those who must kneel and worship at its bulbous parts.

But finally my exercises in saving, retrieving and comp'ing images resulted in this humble picture of one of my new favorite old pin-up girls, Rita Hayworth, in "Cover Girl," a movie I have recently viewed. The outfit she is wearing here I simply must have.

It's easy to see why Hayworth was the #1 pinup girl of the Great Generation -- she's so beautiful and graceful, funny and smart and nice. I love Marilyn, but her glorious bimbo is so much imitated by pale comparisons it's almost as though her influence over time has been largely negative. But Hayworth is a dream girl for the generations, even those of the liberated feminine stripe.

The music and dancing are sublime, and there are far more pretty girls than usual, including many famous models of the period making cameo appearances.

The script does flag in a few places, and the men who love her and let her go could have been a little more evolved, but their hearts are always in the right place, and the clothes? To die for. I'm copying her checked suit with the fingertip-length jacket with double notched collar to wear to interviews and a couple of theater parties upcoming. With it's simple black straight skirt (vented on each side for dancing) and the black-piped yellow vest and a white shirt, it's smashing, and I think will come out well even though there's no place on earth to get that jacket's crazy checkered print. The pattern is small and looks pretty neutral from a distance, but if you can pause the movie and look at it closely you'll see it's not at all what you thought, and just wonderful. I found this "Cover Girl" interesting right down to the tiny details. And let me not forget to mention -- oh, yes -- we don't think of her this way very often, but Eve Arden was a dish!

I took the trouble to make an Illustrator drawing of the jacket fabric pattern -- it's in the background of the picture at right -- so that if anyone would like to put it to the loom, just let me know and I will be glad to set it up for you. As it is I will have to make do with a conventional gingham print, although I was able to find it in silk, and I have on hand a wonderful rabbit felt for the collar and facings that is so black it will suck eyeballs out of the sockets of anyone trying to look at it too closely. The rabbit with its mysterious sheen, if not the gingham, should go a long way toward attracting attention in a quietly exciting entrance.

Okay, time to go for singing and trying to write the music for "I Ching!" This song promises to be one for the record books, at least insofar as how many hours I've stared at it without choosing a single note! Love you,
xoxox, as ever!

erulvaliola -- Monrovia - Wednesday, May 11th, 2011
hey friend i m newbie here just want to say hello to everyone.

Bad Dream On Easy Street - Friday, May 6th, 2011
I saw that someone had searched one of the performers and played the clip I had placed at
nine3.com/X0013_HA_Bad_Dream_On_Easy.html
and because I am so very fond of this person, and thought it might have been him searching for it, I just put the entire track there.

It may not be able to stay for very long, so if you would like to hear it, please visit soon.

xoxox, casz

PS I miss you!

mamSheese - Saturday, April 30th, 2011
be happy and love. kiss

casz - Thursday, April 28th, 2011
I'm deeply moved by the number of people who have expressed their gratitude for my humble efforts at writing to you all here. I have posted just a few of them, as a mainstay for some level of support for your interest. I regret I cannot post everything, but suffice it to say these are exemplary, and all are welcome.

I did begin what would have become a reasonable post two or three days ago, but got sidetracked when trying to get an exact quote and attribution from my favorite broadcaster, John Batchelor (johnbatchelorshow.com). It took a day to hear his response and unfortunately he was unable to recall the reference. He must be incredibly busy as he produces a four hour show seven days a week, and I find every segment is exciting and interesting. I guess he probably produces these segments somewhat catch as catch can, considering the hour at the various places in the world from which his guests appear. Perhaps he then assembles these segements to conform with what he believes is important, interesting and humorous enough to suit the day's news and his own mood.

Bravo, Mr. Batchelor! I really appreciate the streaming segments on his web site, too, as rarely can I listen to the entire program.

But anyway, this is my apology for not completing that entry and getting it out to you. Now I'm afraid I've moved on.

I'm trying to get work, as usual, you see. Despite the existence of my on line portfolio, most companies have their own career/jobs sites requiring their own specifications for uploading portfolio samples. Therefore what "they" tell you about looking for work is unfortunately quite true: it must be one's full-time job. So I have been spending quite a bit of time looking for projects.

And I'm sure you know me well enough to know my commercial portfolio will never be my full-time effort when there are so many interesting things to do.

When I complete the current round (one of which web sites ditched several hours of my work due to a bit of bad timing in the IT department's backup routine, or some such frustrating fact -- half my uploads disappeared in a nonce! and I stayed up last night until 1:30 a.m. doggedly redoing what I had lost.

Now today I must have a bit of singing and will continue tweaking the beautiful arrangements Colin Price made for my "RaZz" which, it turns out, is not getting a concert in Spain after all, but I am working on getting a production here and need to be able to sing it through as well as (this probably won't happen) find some singers to perform some of the songs for the demonstration purposes.

This is all fun and games, dear readers -- do not fear I may be miserable; I'm not. There simply isn't enough time in the day at the moment to write my lovely thoughts about the F8%6%$#ing DOUBLE federal bank bailouts that have relieved banks "too big to fail" of all the responsibility for their bad practices while at the same time filling up their balance sheets with real estate they now own and are too greedy to sell at the real current market rates. Perhaps they collude with cities and town who, were these properties sold at what they can actually sell for, would vastly reduce the tax base and screw things up even more.

Anyway, I was going to give due documentation and references on such matters, and that is what I did not write, and now you have my opinion in ten minutes or less.

Gotta go,
Love you dearly, my friends,
cristo

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ed hardy - Wednesday, April 13th, 2011
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snimmishime - Monday, April 11th, 2011
great post, i agree.

Paketresor - Sunday, April 10th, 2011
hi! :) im at the job currently, thus i do not have much time to write... however! I truly liked reading through your article. It turned out to be some excellent stuff. thanks! All the best, Ms Paketresor

titusag - Thursday, April 7th, 2011
A question I wanted to ask. Guys, do you believe it is expected to go all out and spend all your money on an engagement ring to please your girl?

Girls, does the amount spent on the ring actually increase how much love you feel for your man?

I dont have a ton of money in my amount of money but the ring I brought home for my potential wife the other day she said was to small so that hurt and now I don't know what to do. So, what's your opinion?

carpinteyrojjm - Thursday, April 7th, 2011
really appreciate YOU -- thanks a lot!

Liberia - Thursday, April 7th, 2011
Pretty fine article. I just stumbled upon your web site and I'd like to say that I have actually enjoyed reading your blog posts. I'll be subscribing to your feed anyway and I hope you'll post again soon. Big thanks for the good info.

WickWelsHeisE - Wednesday, April 6th, 2011
Remember, you just copied it a couple steps ago.

Car Hire - Wednesday, March 30th, 2011
Maybe you'll want to get a facebook button to your site. I just bookmarked the url, however I must make this by hand. Simply my 2 cents.

the mother of all compression formats - Wednesday, March 30th, 2011
Supercomputing groups, space technologies labs and those searching for academic answers are visiting practically continuously now.

Inklings appear. I see so many opportunities in compression and algorithms in general through my concept of the graphical sexadecimal (hexadecimal with "floating point" [or asymptotic truths in black and white before me : ] ) paired with the very convenient expression we call "pi" that happens to have a tendency not to repeat itself through pattern EVER simply because it is the rounding factor of our geometry and, hence, is in MOTION.

And yes, I thank thee, you are (many of you) greatly relieved to understand now at last what was meant when the ancients declared and to which logically even your own fifth grade math teacher acquiesced: all lines curve.

But I just realized something new I should tell you. In fact, I've realized a few things that I have not shared and still feel no compulsion to express here. But this one will be very helpful, and it is simple, so I will give it to you in the ten minutes I have before I must begin placing some ads here on nine3 in space that some kind person yesterday said she wishes to purchase. And that is just in time, I might add, as I have been losing sleep in a rather serious way because my poor old mother, who could never exercise any fiscal discipline and (worse) has the streak of a trickster running where the spine usually resides, is once more needs to be bailed out of a bad situation.

My dear sister-in-law, a stalwart in every sense of the term as well as a beauty in her own right and the mother of a beautiful daughter and wife to my own dear brother, has over the past few years successfully worked (and it must have been difficult indeed) to relieve the old dame of a rather incredible burden of debt, at no cost whatsoever to me. This she did by pursuing mountains of paperwork -- really a huge pile of effort on her part, but no actual cash. My mother at one point admitted to the original debt as being about $12K, but I have recently learned it was more than $80K, which my sister in law in a couple of years of tenacious and clever work whittled down to three payments of $1,800, which the beneficiary of this effort did herself pay.

Now, it seems, free of debt and apparently with her credit rating intact, our mother secretly borrowed from two lenders and is (of course) again falling behind.

This time I am being asked to take turns with my other siblings in making her payments. It is deeply infuriating to contemplate who it could have been that would have been so irresponsible as to lend this money. Lest you suspect I am niggardly and cruel in this matter, I must assure you she is (or was) far better established than most people and still has a state pension and a social security check, secure lodging in the assisted living facility of her own choosing, etc. etc., really I could go on and on but . . . I've already said too much . . . what a mess, at this point we would all count ourselves fortunate to have her level of security if we are fortunate to live so long, moreover she has already outlived two of her children and will probably still outlive more of us . . .. In fact since there is little I can do about any of this (being half a world away, and matters such as the foregoing explaining much in the reason for it) I'm afraid I really don't even want to know. But I do want to pay my share. Yet my business wouldn't support a flea at this point, and I justify myself by being the best bonne femme and helpmate to my husband that ever there was (please heaven).

I am also, perhaps regrettably, something of a bourg insofar as I have until the past two years succeeded in having my own income and I find it very difficult to ask my husband if he will pay for my mother's latest peccadillos.

So this advertising on nine3.com is welcome indeed, and I have already committed the income to the mad old cow's bottom line : ) I say that affectionately, of course : ) much as Mr. Bean referred to Whistler's Mother as a "mad old cow."

Therefore I must run within a few minutes and execute those ads so that ma dame's creditors can get paid.

But the simple fact about the magic of pi and sexadecimal could be like the pearl the ancients say reflects (and therefore contains) the entire world. And I do wish to express these ideas while it still seems interesting enough to me that I must do so.

Really, I should write a film script about this instead of handing it out wholesale. That would be a pretty fast way to demonstrate it, as literary timelines go : ) could probably do it in a couple of months, as opposed to writing it in a novel (a couple of years?), or a musical (a couple of decades?).

Too bad I refused the formal study of math. There is probably a ten-line hypothesis I could use, unfortunately fiction is my only recourse.

Not counting this blog, of course.

Okay, so here it is:

Using the asymptote and the sexadecimal expression of any binary construct . . .

this is so simple I keep expecting someone else to think of it, considering how many clues I've already dropped : ) simplicity is funny that way. Must be a "forest for the trees thing" -- something in a way invisible in its obviousness.

With these principles, we are now "at the end of long division" because the sexadecimal allows one "to see" the nature of even extremely large numbers without long division. It is more like a visual abacus (as I believe I have said before).

Because most readers have not created the base-32 (or dual sexadecimal, hereafter given as "dsex.") calculator I gave instructions for, I will have to try to explain verbally rather than iconically, because even if I put the font on my computer you still wouldn't be able to see it on yours. What a pain. Let me see . . .

Choose, at some point in your incredibly long string of figures that is a duohexadecimal value (dsex.) conversion of a giant binary value, one figure comprised of symmetries that make the value instantly, intuitively apparent. For example (because I can give a reasonable approximation of the following figure here, and bearing in mind that 8 (the crazy eight) equals 16dec. (16decimal value) because there is NO zero in sex. and dsex., and what looks like a zero is actually 8dec. and because the second half of the system is expressed as the first half plus its mirror image, then 8sex. (and also 8dsex.) =16dec.

So what if in your big string you encounter (in ddec.)
88
88
(pretend there is no line space between the two lines of the foregoing, i.e., all the o's touch one another, as a single figure)

in this case we are talking about 32dec.

(you could use any other value landing on a symmetrical construct within the expression)

Almost the entire data set could be expressed as ox4

That is one pearl of the the three pearls that make up the pearl that is the world of your data set.

In order to reconstruct your entire data set from this one figure, the other figures you would need to know are ?
the [two or three or four or five -- however many, determined by specific realm of the calculation] occurring on either side of the
88
88

(which would show you the exact position where your "key" appears in the pi (algorithm) and hence includes all the data up to that point in the data set.

It might be a good idea to write three figures on paper in ink and put it in a safe place in case you need to regenerate your data set after it has been hit by the pulse : )

I think of the foregoing as a sort of kludge fail safe, because it will still require knowledge of the vast string that is the pi algorithm, and this may not always be available to you, e.g., if our data got hit with an electromagnetic pulse weapon and we had to start regenerating pi manually, from scratch as it were.

I'm sure there is a better way to hold the key to your pearl that involves two other factors: the asymptote (whether rounding up vs rounding down had been used in original calculations, i.e., either a "+" or a "-" designation).

The asymptote's job is to let you know whether you are working with the "fat" or the "thin" tendency, i.e., whether you are rounding up or down.

This is pearl number two. And pearl number 3:

Every position in the fraction of pi must be given a line number.
e.g.,

Pi-dec. (3.141...) actually is more like Pi-sex. (3.243...) and Pi-dsex. (i have no clue).

The line number of the fraction of Pi in any given numbering sys, e.g.,

3.
line 1=2
line 2=4
line 3=3
etc. ad infinitum

Therefore, if you have 1.) the symmetrical figure you can "know" intuituitively, 2.) the correct asymptote, and 3.) the line number on pi where your symmetrical figure resides (and/or "X" number of figures on either side of your symmetrical figure, depending on scale), then
you can "unfold" your entire data set from these three factors, storing them, therefore, in about 16 bytes in the cloud (or on your legal pad, along with a good long calculation of pi in sex. or dsex., locked in a thick leaden safe in your basement.

And all will be well for modernity, after a period of regrouping, even if an idiot taunting fate with "end times" or whatever other madness infects feckless fools in the present day has his way and unleashes mahem throughout the globe, in the name of dog-mah or (if I may be excused for not seeing it this way (ah-hahaha God).

Slots - Monday, March 28th, 2011
My father recommended your site. I've bookmarked ityour site.

NALKUNSANTY - Friday, March 25th, 2011
I just book marked your blog on Digg and StumbleUpon.I enjoy reading your commentaries.

just enough rope to hang ourselves - Thursday, March 24th, 2011
Greed is a powerful emotion.

If those who wish to see a nation fail have enough power to deregulate markets, the greedy rush in and eventually pull the whole thing down.

That's why your friends are saying, "You're crazy if you're not doing it."

Because they are sucking sucking sucking and those who are so "crazy" not to engage in that behavior think . . . heaven knows what! that at least their consciences will be clear, no matter what else happens? Some people believe it is important. And those who are NOT "so crazy" so they get in on what is essentially the gang rape of a nation? they believe at least they will "get theirs" before the fall?

How did the multi billionaire whathiSface destrOy Maylasia's thRiving ecOnomy in Such a recent but apparently easily forgettable manner?

See hints above. The technique is well developed by now.

ronjj, IMO you should avoid debt like the plague, even if it means liquidating and living with roommates until you get ahead enough to pay as you go.

Why, with all the "stimulus" and "quantitative easing" whereby the banks received liquidity from the FRB, are the banks still not lending?

Because it's more like a sure thing to take the money and play the markets, duh. That's my opinion.

diversify - Wednesday, March 23rd, 2011
diversify diversify diversify

The money has to go somewhere. Money doesn't like keeping a cash position, but where should one put it?

Everything is rocketing around like mad.

I think we should ask our legislators to reinstate the Glass Steagall Act. Basically the reform (of the early 20th Century) required there exists a stock for each stock option. Is that too much to ask? It was an obvious necessity, was it not?

Options (short trading) are what killed the market in '29. Glass Steagall put it to rights. Then Clinton cancelled it.

Now once more there can be many options traded on just one stock, and friends who are options traders freely admit that although it's illegal to collude they are in fact doing it. And with the readily available computing solutions to the need to track and hide collusion, it's pretty easy for almost anyone to learn.

At first (when this ugly serpent first starting rearing its ugly head once more) we would hear about the need for Glass Steagall, then everybody started doing the down and dirty (making even more money when the markets go down than when they go up) so that now so many people are invested in the shameful behavior that no one wants to bring it up any more. [fallacy]There's too much to lose.[/fallacy]

My dirtbag friend who told me about the collusions he and his "friends" are doing with Cisco stock tried to get me to give him some money to play with, or to teach me how to do the parasite suck on the markets. "You're crazy if you're not doing it."

But he already bottomed out once in his career, and he said he'd learned his lesson about greed so now he's probably riding high. I dumped his ass a couple of years ago, osensibly over some vegan diatribe he sent me on Thanksgiving (very insensitive, considering how I had also expressed my belief about the spirit power of Thanksgiving Day emanates fro how much the Divine One loves the smell of roasting bird wafting up on that sacred day. He leans over and breathes a heavenly fragrance and says, "God Bless America" because it is we who are giving it to Him). On this great day, which was also my birthday, this ex-friend rather than apologizing when he realized he was insulting me decided to escalate the argument and suggest I should go to a meeting where they would teach me how to ask questions in a way that the stupid fools would be unable to formulate responses, thus "convincing" everyone the left wing vegetarians must be right about everything.

Yes, I escalated in response -- so much so that after a few such exchanges he said I had given him no choice but to block my messages so that I couldn't hurt him any more. (Sometimes it makes more sense, when dumping someone, to make them dump you. This makes them feel a little better and defuses some of the desire to get even, stalk, or threaten -- thus explaining some of the reasons why women despite being considered callous and calculating for "indirect" or "manipulative" acts hew to the time-tested feminine techniques.)

Because as annoying as his proseletyzing for vegetarianism had always been, I had let it go until that moment, when the real reason I cancelled our friendship was over his parasitic trading behavior.

"You shall have no intimacy with worthless men," is one of the commandments written on the wall of the pyramid of the Sun King.

Yes, I had a friend who was a worthless parasite. But no more. I don't even want to know if he's growing rich on the wasting of our body politic.

He still entertained hope of profiting through our friendship. He never contacted me unless he wanted something, and he very rarely got what he was looking for, although he usually got something of no consequence. But I had purchased a number of Casio MIDI saxophones when they were being discontinued, to gift to the children of families we knew. The horns were wonderful, but after a few years developed a "squeal" which with a few dollars could be repaired with a new chip, and the instruments that had cost a mere $35 when being liquidated could now be resold for $500.00. I had kept one or two, and he had set his cap on getting them from me (along with a few other benefits he periodically tried to extract).

But what was the straw that broke him and made him dismiss me even though he most likely still considered me a potential member of the flock for the fleecing?

I told him that if everyone became vegetarians, then very soon all the domesticated animals whose primary reason for existence was to participate in the food chain would no longer exist. I told him if he believed in climate change he must surely believe that on a destroyed planet it will be a whole lot easier for most people to eat animals who know how to survive than it is for nincompoops to learn to grow crops, and therefore the unintended consequences of the high moral ground of vegetarianism would be cannibalism.

Yes, that was the escalation to which I refer, and plead guilty of ridding my life of this fellow's association.

thoma sabo charm club - Wednesday, March 23rd, 2011
Seriously happy to get in touch with folks on this page

i prefer to say g'day to folks

tarralovesit - Wednesday, March 23rd, 2011
Hey just joining, glad to be in! I'm glad to be here last but not least, heading to post due to the fact I've been reading a lengthy time.

Sooo anyways, plenty about me, see you all-around and hello yet again haha.

PS, how do I make myself have a cool title like some people here have? I just got a new phone, even a nutritionist requires so much to keep up to date!

Abavimaimpabe - Monday, March 21st, 2011
Very good resource. Make Home Page!

thomas sabo charm uk - Sunday, March 20th, 2011
Delighted to come together all men and women at this site

i are going to say gday to all men and women

ronjj - Sunday, March 20th, 2011
Stock Market dropped 138 points yesterday. I read by next week it will lose another 500! That is so bad. I am already on my way to being deep in debt. Anyone know a good market to be in?

xto - Wednesday, March 16th, 2011
RE: your Toyota marketing campaign proposal, I believe there will be many opportunities created by this crisis. Business people of good sense (and no one has had more good sense than the Japanese in business matters) know that marketing becomes even more important during difficult periods.

@romanda, glad you asked about hair loss. There are a couple of very helpful products in the herbal realm.

The first is FO TI, which I have written about in the past. Search fo ti (polygonym multiflorum) in this forum and elsewhere to discover its benefits.

IMPORTANT: Please be aware you should only use the herb that is dark (deep brown to black in color) as this will indicate it has been given the black bean treatment that extracts alkaloids that will be harmful to the liver if taken regularly. It is surprising how many "health" preparations of this herb are pale yellow to white, which indicates ignorance on the part of the compounder of this important caveat.

A good source of properly treated fo ti is the tea section of the oriental supermarket. I like to tear open one tea bag and add the contents to our daily coffee grind. It also seems to reduce the acidity of the coffee and mellows the flavor somewhat.

The effects of this herb may take a few months to become noticeable as it takes effect in the natural course of cellular renewal of the hair, skin and nails, all of which will be more robust after a time.

The second remedy is something I discovered very recently and its effects are immediately noticeable. This is an eastern remedy (I believe the one I use is made in Pakistan or India) called "Kalonji." It comes in a bottle of only a couple of ounces as the dosage is a single teaspoon combined with lemon juice and hot water. It is a scalp massage that stops dropping hair immediately by strengthening the root. Both my husband (a black-haired man of Italian extraction) and myself (with fair skin and hair) swear by it. My husband is not one to bother with all of the remedies I suggest, but this is an exception. We now keep a tiny pitcher at the ready because it is the reason there is scant hair in the brush and comb since we began using it.

Good luck, and thanks for compliments : )

romandaQER - Wednesday, March 16th, 2011
Is there anyone esle experiencing hair loss in here? Do you have any recomendations? BTW LOVELY FORUM!!!!!!

mornFoewGerry - Monday, March 14th, 2011
I'm wondering how this earthquake will affect Toyota Manufacturing? I've been working on a Toyota concept for awhile now, something pertaining to internet marketing.

Hey Maputo - Friday, March 11th, 2011
Advertisers are welcome on any page at nine3.

Please go to nine3.com opening page and follow the "contact us" link at the bottom of the page to send email.

Thanks for interest.

xto - Tuesday, March 1st, 2011
Dyep, there are no reptiles or monsters here, but we greet you with congratulations all the same.

Since I had to translate your post, I hope you will consider yourself gifted : )
Enjoy your day.

Dyepsaste - Tuesday, March 1st, 2011
Hello all!!!
Today is my birthday!!!
Congratulate me, all you reptiles and monsters.....ha, ha, ha!

OK - Monday, February 28th, 2011
Moi, b aware that while I am always interested in hearing from you, your posts will not appear unless your comments are pertinent to our explorations. Fear not, it is a very wide field we range, so you should be able to come up with something : )

If it's only to explain why you liked something you found here, it might very well be the sort of thing we will enjoy, so do give it a try.

BTW, with my regrets, it's English only (for those of you who continue to send your posts in other languages).

�a va? �a va bien! (Kidding!)

MoibToofNiz - Monday, February 28th, 2011
After exploring through the boards for some time I thought its time to join. I hope we can all get a long and share knowleadge.Iam looking forward to it. Let the fun begin :)

Napolean's Hat - Friday, February 18th, 2011
Thanks for weighing in, Mia. Same to the rest of you who sent similar greetings.

If I can figure out how to get a snapshot out of the new machine (purchased to enable video chat with collaborators and to isolate non-creative from creative files) I will post a picture of the wonderful little old work of sculptural art I found in an antique shop. It is Napoleon's Hat, used here as a stylus holder for the drawing slate I have been using a lot this week as I painstakingly plod through the formal notation on some songs.

I suppose the hat was meant to have a feathered pen that would look like Bonaparte's plumage. That would be very amusing, But I have no feathered quill that can communicate with the drawing slate, so Monsieur's chapeau looks quite a bit less fabulous than it might.

I was just about to add that I rather like Windows 7 -- it is a good deal better than other versions I've used. However in trying to get the snapshot off the machine I see MS Office is still trying to dictate how I work. It REALLY wants me to use Outlook, e.g., which I have no intention of doing.

Oh, well -- so much for this little diversion. Must try again later. Back to work!
xoxo, cx

P.S. I've just had a great experience with someone who purchased an ad on the main "Red River Valley" page on nine3.com -- look for it as a short bulleted list at the bottom of the left column pointing to ways to get PDFs made without purchasing Acrobat Professional. This will be a great advantage to many. In fact I've noticed numerous examples of visitors who would like to have copies of some of these pages on their own machines, and they have wasted a lot of time trying to get around the security on my server. I don't mind if visitors avail themselves of this feature, added by my esteemed new customer : ) After all, this is "publishing" is it not? In so many ways it is a public service, especially the SacredErotic.html and Tao.html pages that share ancient wisdom.

Information on these pages (comprising nine3's "Ancient Primer to Practical Godhead") can (among other things) circumvent the debilitating effects of that component of western civilization of the present day that encourages males to dissipate their vital life forces through onanism. In fact there is a far more pleasurable and life-enhancing way to balance sexual energy -- known throughout the animal kingdom (which is why some of the practices refer to "The Deer Exercises for Men and Women"). The ancients (in this case the Chinese, even before the time of Lao Tsu many thousands of years ago) observed these practices in animals and carefully codified their applications for use in human enlightenment. These exercises and practices not only relieve congested sexual energy but "grow" the stream of vital life force, strengthening and enhancing existence at every level.

So be it! I would like to hear from more potential advertisers. Blessings for profound peace,
it LALLA! cx

Another Friend - Friday, February 18th, 2011
Thanks for post. It´s really informative stuff. I really like to read. Hope to learn a lot and have a nice experience here! my best regards guys!

MiaBergdorfl - Friday, February 18th, 2011
Thanks for info on this issue. I dont know that

- Thursday, February 17th, 2011
Someone I "knew" quasi personally some years ago as co-members on a couple of listservs, an academic and wordsmith in the field of journalism whose name came to my attention today, was wondering (in his blog) whether bloggers can be considered "real" journalists. In, part, he comments:

"Never before have we had such complete and total access to the ignorance, depravity, ugliness, mundanity and folly of others than we do now.

"And never before have we had access to the wit, wisdom, intelligence, humor and warmth of the human spirit as we do now.

"It´s this latter access that enthuses me. The ability to read, watch, listen to and interact with people who have deep, deep knowledge on discrete subjects is something that perpetually amazes and gives me great hope for the information age we are in. I´m optimistic that way.

"Are all these people journalists? Or 'real journalists' as the case may be?"

I added a comment on his entry, and because I don't want the time it took me to do that to be thrown down the rathole of that blog's moderator's discretion to use or discard my ideas there, or to borrow them, as would be his perogative, I decided to use them here.

I replied:

Strictly speaking, a "journalist" writes (daily) a journal, which legitimately includes everything the writer [and the editor] cares to include. A reporter is someone who reports specific factual information, the four w's: the "who, what, when and where" of a subject of interest to somebody.

However, "reporters" now very often include a fifth "w," the "why," which is subjective rather than factual.

Subjective material, when well substantiated, is obviously a legitimate component of reporting, but thanks to the explosion of the "soft" sciences like sociology and psychology everyone is now in the business of journalism (and not reportage), moreover also knows how to frame questions to gain desired responses (and other newish tricks of the trade), which I will enumerate upon request (but not without remuneration).

Ergo, to frame the issue as an answer in one of this week's journalistic foci (the man vs. machine contest between supposedly super smart humans and the computer Watson), when the Jeopardy clue is "journalism" the question is, "What is yellow?"

That would be under the category, "Coloring."

Commercial journalists write prose that sells products for advertisers, and "editorial policy" has for a very long time been formulated to keep the "remunerated" proviso of the definition of "real" reporter alive (albeit to less and less general acceptance).

It is easier to argue that those who do it for love and passion are more "real" journalists than "real" journalists.

The foregoing being my first point, my second is: "enthuses" is not a word.

Speaking of remuneration - Tuesday, February 15th, 2011
BTW, if supercomputing and space communications folks out there are using the sexadecimal system, won't you please drop me a line and let me know how it's coming along.

I did have a couple of new insights on the subject recently but haven't had a chance to write about them here. It's usually important to give such ideas a little time to gestate, and invariably when the time comes to make the expression it turns out to need refinement and further discovery. Certainly this is part of the process.

At the moment I need to catch up on a lot of music notation. There is quite a backlog in peril of becoming too remote to capture.

My sincere thanks - Tuesday, February 15th, 2011
Undova, forgive the edit on your post. I interpreted your "right parenthesis" figure to mean "right." It's necessary to study carefully some posts for character usage that could translate to php cues giving hackers access.

Thanks, Soillakag, I think we are on the same page.

I'm pleased to have your interest, and the interest of those who only lurk but who are kind enough not to arrive through the various black holes that would conceal entirely the level of their interest. Your visits are the only remuneration I receive for these efforts, since the value of free commentary would certainly be diluted by advertising placements.

If you would like to help make this worthwhile in a material sense, please purchase the HARRIER ANGEL cd or tracks (available at CD Baby, iTunes and other major outlets).

Griselda's Fat Farm of Studio Art, which is the setting of HARRIER ANGEL, depicts a non-dogmatic approach to gathering a family of humankind. The structure is based on a private club, not unlike the structure of the Squantum Yacht Club where Naro is a life member (and where I, as his wife, enjoy the same status). This is as near as anyone could hope to an ideal structure, but certainly not without problems. In recent years, the municipal authorities who have, for the more than century-long existence of the numerous yacht clubs along the beaches in this city, traditionally supported pleasure boating as a healthy way to maintain the skills of mariners (among other virtues), but over the past decade or so have begun to crack down on "the freedoms of the deep" by demanding ever higher fees and greater and greater regulations along with an adversarial tone that suggests it would be preferable in the view of some to keep people from going abroad upon the sea. It's as if they would rather say, simply, "Everyone out of the water!"

undova - Tuesday, February 15th, 2011
100% right

soillakag - Tuesday, February 15th, 2011
An fascinating dialogue is value comment. I think that you must write extra on this subject, it won't be a taboo topic however usually people are not sufficient to speak on such topics. To the next. Cheers.

Black Oak, Long Island - Monday, February 14th, 2011
If you live out there, I'm officially jealous of you! How well I remember sailing from Miami back to Boston through Block Island Sound and wishing from the depths of my soul that we could take a hard left into Long Island Sound and sail all the way up to New Rochelle.

I even dreamed a few times of leaving Boston on the sailboat named Moonraker (our 28 foot Morgan Outislander) and coming into New York, tying up, and heading into the city for a meeting. It seemed real, and I was so glad to be able to sleep aboard and step off onto the dock perfectly attired. But I was single handing, so I knew it had to be a dream!

Vive la France - Monday, February 14th, 2011
Thanks largely to French culture, no one needs to rant any cant making points that inevitably divide along dogmatic lines. Without question, the credit for the concept of "good faith" comes to us through the French.

As values go, "Good faith" is non-dogmatic, and as powerful as the Golden Rule.

As Detective Reverend Jones admits in HARRIER ANGEL, "Ah, yes, the dogma. It slouched into the camp after the fires burned down."

It's a watch dog, present to protect the sleeping. It is useful in its way — but alas, there is a lack: it cannot express the fullness of the divine, or even human, insight. After all, it is only a dog.

For arguments, I like the "No Dogma" rule, and am doubly glad to have "Good Faith" standing with it shoulder to shoulder.

Pymnomido - Monday, February 14th, 2011
This is HossDawg, and I'm here to stay! This is an amazing site!

Democracy - Saturday, February 12th, 2011
I believe most people favor democratic ideals, but when we talk about a democracy of any longevity what we really mean is a "democratic republic" or something like "constitutional monarchy" or others, where the reference to democracy is as an adjective used to describe some other construction that is the government itself, and it is this construction that strives to encompass democratic ideals.

This is because there are inherent weaknesses in democracy itself, e.g., "one man one vote" quickly leads to a "tyranny of the majority" where the rights of those outside the mainstream are trampled forthwith. I can quickly think of many other painful examples showing that the simple lack of good faith readily allows those who do not at all respect the freedoms idealized in democracy join together and use the democratic system itself to vote democratic principles out of existence.

The original democracy of Athens quickly collapsed because of such factors these -- the beautiful dream completely and immediately overrun because of its failure to recognize the fundamental barnyard hierarchies (politics) human beings (and indeed most animals, we are beginning to see) will always attempt to enact on every level. This is "nature," the principal of survival of the fittest, that must be mitigated somehow if fairness (democracies) will be assured a place at the table of human interaction.

A modern government that encompasses the ideals of democracy needs various checks and balances (like the division of powers among separate competing branches of government), and that will allow the voting process to correct mistakes very easily made --, for example when a charismatic person with a strongly appealing message manages to get elected to lead the Administrative (Executive) Branch of the Federal government of the United States of America but proves lacking in the knowledge, experience or perhaps even the good faith to act on the agenda for which people have voted. When the Legislative Branch forges partisan agendas forgetting their mandate to jealously guard their own power in opposition to the Administrative Branch, or the Judicial Branch becomes highly politicized and polarizes along party lines, these three branches of government that were themselves described specifically to prevent the collapse of the democratic principles into the fatal process of compounding power (recognized by Thomas Jefferson and John Adams as natural tendencies) may yet be redressed by a staggered schedule of elections, among the two houses of the Legislative and the single Administrative entity, that make it difficult for any single party to gain control of the entire government. The fact that in the U.S.A. there are fifty states which each have their own structures and their own power to serve their specific and highly diverse constituencies goes even further to dilute the tendency to conglomerate absolute power. These factors have meant much to the longevity of the modern world's oldest democracy, the democratic republic that is the U.S.A.

My favorite example of a democratic form rum amok in short order is the United Nations, wherein it is a commonplace to find logical absurdities like Iran and Iraq (under Saddam Hussein) on the Security Council, and where the Secretary General can easily appoint his own son to oversee (e.g.) a Food For Oil Program that is actually a license to commit grand larceny for personal gain. The idealism that drove the United Nations into existence lacked the hearty disdain for "human nature" held by the founders of the U.S. Constitution that might have ingrained more cautionary factors in the structure of this organization. Once such a structure exists it is very hard to change. Respect is given to its members -- respect perhaps deserved, perhaps not.

Likewise, as "tribalism" is given the nod in Afghanistan, because it is "traditional" the president can still have the respect of his office even though he may walk across the border carrying fifty million dollars that cannot possibly legally belong to him. It is absurd -- another cautionary tale -- in the foibles committed in the name of imparting democratic freedoms to nations lacking the necessary culture demanding good faith no matter what other dogmas anyone may admire, and the sense to enact a strong system of checks and balances to maintain orderly, if not predictable, outcomes.

Some of the most profound truths ruling my existence (referenced in these posts in numerous ways) came from Egyptian culture of deepest antiquity. I've also known personally a couple of Egyptian citizens -- both highly educated, intelligent and evolved human beings (one a female dentist and the other a male microbiologist), and to me it seems that if the character of these people is representative of the Egyptian national character today, then there is a very good chance Egypt can evolve into a modern democratic republic. Let us hope they are able to install a new government with checks and balances that can incorporate democratic ideals while precluding power grabs by bad guys (those of bad faith) running a slick confidence game that sounds good to enough people to get themselves elected but promoting a hidden agenda of running the nation straight to hell for the glory of their own compounding power -- and even worse. For as bad as such ego maniacs can be, let us not forget there are plenty of potential outcomes that are even worse.

It's a treacherous path Egypt embarks upon today. Heaven help them.

teemarrelty - Saturday, February 12th, 2011
Well this morning is certainly a triumph for the democracy of Egypt. Living in a democratic country it is difficult to think how terriuble dictatorship can be. Long live democracy

Where in the world are you? - Thursday, February 10th, 2011
The comment by calories burned lifting weights" (re: the round of applause) arrives all the time, from different servers all over the world. I wonder if it's a generic comment many people use to encourage bloggers to write more, or if it's one person obfuscating their location?

Oh, well -- I'm sure it isn't worth worrying about.

But yes, the calories burned lifting weights are probably among the most productive. Which reminds me to try to fit in a session right away.
: ) Thanks.

calories burned lifting weights - Thursday, February 10th, 2011
You certainly deserve a round of applause for your post and more specifically, your blog in general. Very high quality material

kudos 4 Lia & Michael - Wednesday, February 9th, 2011
Maestro weighed in on Lia's and Michael's performances in the film at right. Orchestrating "Nicole," he looked at this little film and said, "She is some singer! And so is the guy at the end."

I'm proud of them, and especially thankful to Michael Pratt, who is a great choreographer and director as well as a very well-rounded performance talent, and worked for Disney in Orlando before returning to his hometown — Dorchester, Boston. The shows he produces and directs are terrific.

I'm certain the images and videos I was able to capture from these performances had much to do with attracting the interest of the people in Spain.

One trick pony - Wednesday, February 9th, 2011
confidential to visitors in Russia: I'm sorry to say I threw away a whole bunch of foreign language fonts, including Cyrillic (if that's what you're trying to post in -- it comes in as gibberish) and a bunch of others. I was having problems with the machine and that was one of the actions I took to correct the problem (probably a mistake). But anyway, English and potentially other languges that I can translate (that use the same alphabet as English) are the only ones that can appear here.

Sorry about that!

The title is content - Tuesday, February 8th, 2011
People seem to use names that suit the subject of the post. It's a smooth way to roll : )

Welcome. Make yourself comfortable here.

I'm seeing almost daily progress on the RAZZ orchestrations from the musical director in Spain, a fascinating British conductor who is also a well-known Gilbert & Sullivan scholar. In addition he's a very nice man, a brilliant and entertaining light in the middle of my cold February, and father to a young girl who is herself conducting now -- can you imagine? What a lucky young lady to have such an attentive papa.

I'm very excited by his work with the RAZZ but probably should not post more midi files just at the moment as they are preliminary and also too easy to borrow. This would not be the right time to invite everyone to experiment with the pieces. I will post some samples with vocals as soon as it makes sense.

In the meantime, don't hesitate to try out some ideas here. Thank you for interest.

jceJen - Tuesday, February 8th, 2011
Hey just joining, glad to be in! I'm glad to be here as a final point, heading to post considering the fact that I've been reading an extended time.

I've been involved in some other forums and have found this put to have a great deal greater written content, so it tends to make sense to ultimately post!

BTW where is the option to make myself have a cool title like some people here have?

Yes, Cosette - Friday, February 4th, 2011
Thanks, that's correct. I knew I had it wrong, but was rushing along as usual and did not take the time to fact check.

Now I realize I haven't given you the midi file of the ONION as promised, either. I have been tangled up in tech, patching my system together with a new but cheap PC to run videochats with my dear music director who does not wish to type. And who can blame him? He's got much more important things to do than spend all day writing exactly the correct emails when five minutes of conversation on Skype will keep us on the same page. Of course Skype needs a later operating system than mine, so rather than accept that headache (cloning a big disc just for an op sys upgrade) now I have a new PC that can't talk to my network without a patch. Apple's support site is so slow, I decided to pop in here while it comes in.

I'll run over to the machine that runs the sequencer and try to get you the midi file via multitasking. It should be up in a nonce.

tata, bulla razz!

Cosette - Friday, February 4th, 2011
You are thinking of Fantine's child, Cosette. She was found in an orphanage by Jean Valjean and taken away to be raised by him.

So Happy - Friday, January 28th, 2011
I'm sorry for heaven's sake because I am so happy today I can't make myself start working. I know I have been virtually handed everything I need to do what I must do, so it is doubly wrong for me to shirk productive pursuits. It is a little corollary to something Bruce the Deuce told me once when (without my solicitation) he looked at my natal chart. He said, "Others may lie and cheat on their taxes and do other wrong, but you may not. You have been given everything, and any wrong you do will come back at you like a shot, so don't even think of it."

He said I have nearly the same birth chart as Friedrich Nietsche! If that shouldn't frighten a creampuff of a girl like the one, pictured here — myself at the age he mentioned it.

Actually I had already decided that I was some kind of artist. I think I told you the story somewhere here in this tome of a forum that my teacher had asked me, since I seemed to be good at so many art forms, which one I would choose, and after a moment of consideration I asked, "Which is the hardest?" She said "opera" and since I already loved musical theater, and because she said, "That would be good, because it uses all of the art forms," I said, "Okay, that's what I will do." So here I am pictured then, and here I sit now, some decades later, if only to say, "And oh how very right she was!" but to quote a lyric (my own, of course), I'm certain I could have worked much harder at it, but I didn't like to be miserable, impoverished, loveless, etc.

What a humorous decision it seems today! And for once I am laughing with sheer delight!

I was already practicing a lesson from Hugo's LES MISERABLES, learned when reading the part about — who was it, Fantine? — being reared by nuns who strove above all to prevent the girl from trading on her looks, regularly saying to her such things as, "You are very fortunate to be such a homely girl." The idea was that she would learn to make her way with other virtues, so did I — in our family life pretending to believe that I was very homely indeed and thus dropping out of the beauty contest among the sisters in our family that actually destroyed our relationships. Perhaps it would have been better to own up to who I was. In addition to the copious blond hair and blue eyes I was also possessed of an acute political sensibility that made me a natural leader — another of the qualities in myself that I rejected. Oh, well. Only one of my three sisters survives, and she still hates me. "C'est la guerre," as they say, cavalier!

The after affects of "hiding my light" so to speak do still reverberate and despite my happy life still intrude with their inherently sad consequences, in some ways, yet too few to mention here. But when I discovered The Tao (my sharing of some of it no doubt the reference BedBuygDoginNYC1u makes below, and BTW thank you for that, my dear visitor) I was greatly soothed by the hexagram in I CHING that says, "The weak ascend."

This does not mean the weak ALWAYS ascend, of course, for it is the "book of changes." It means that at certain times the weak ascend and have their moments, too, if only they can sieze them.

So after all of this buildup, that is the point of my happiness today! I received a draft of one song being orchestrated by the wonderful music director of the symphony orchestra in Spain where my RAZZ is (God willing) going to be performed this year. He is making it for string quartet with clarinet, bass guitar, banjo and marimba.

Here is a midi file of the basic sections of THE ONION RAG, very much a sketch, of course. None of the levels have been adjusted and the midi instruments give the barest hint of what the live performers would sound like . . .

Oh, my word — JUST LOOK AT THE TIME!! I am making a special "Chicken under Bricks for this evening's meal, and must go at once!

I will add the picture and THE ONION RAG sketch when I return in a few hours. Perhaps I will give you the picture now . . . will see if it works right off the bat, if not, please look at "The Onion Rag" and see if you can tell how I came to write this:

"She said the onion is a remedy
A cure for melancholia . . .
With pain that's this tremendous
The smallest things upend us
I'd have to get five tatoos to feel this much relief!
And feel that I have grieved to the end of all my grief!"

Yes, it did come from my life. How many the times over the years have I been grateful to give the excuse of my culinary pursuit for the tears I could not contain.

However, not today, my friends. I will be peeling, chopping, slicing and dicing them, and may cry my eyes out, but not without great cheer!

all the best,
xoxox,
casz

PS Thanks to those who have added content here over the past few days. I like what I'm seeing.

Best of luck, Emeline! We have many intelligent readers in Germany. Perhaps you will get good recommendations.
� bient�t! cx

emeline-etranger - Friday, January 28th, 2011
bonjour a tous

Je suis expatrie en allemagne et j'aurai aime savoir si certains d'entre vous connaissent des endroits
sympa pour se divertir a berlin.

J'ai essaye pas mal de discotheques sans jamais m'y eclater.

Je compte sur vous !
PS: Si vous etes dans mon coin, pas de soucis pour se rencontrer !

marchi !

BedBugDoginNYC1u - Thursday, January 27th, 2011
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Dearborn - Wednesday, January 26th, 2011
Since the Hue/Saturation adjustment layer has a mask on it, though, just select the Brush tool (B), choose a soft-edged brush from the Brush Picker, then press X to swap your Foreground and Background colors, making your Foreground color black.

Dear friend - Tuesday, January 25th, 2011
Thank you for your several entreaties, your pleas have moved my heart at last
: )
Allow me to say the list is moderated, and I usually maintain the policy of withholding notes unless they convey some insight or other, or inspire the same in me.

I hope this is a satisfactory explanation. Please let me know your thoughts. If they seem to conform to the requirement detailed above, they may appear here. If not, be assured they most likely have been received, with appreciation.

Blessings,

xxxxestwwg - Tuesday, January 25th, 2011
hi
i hope i enjoy my stay here

pls be nice to me

thanks!

confidential to DoD - Monday, January 24th, 2011
I see that your scanners have finally found THE WIRE SONG and the portfolio entry for the amusing and amazing Mathemetician/Neuroscientist/Physician whose initial web site I created.

If your analysts are typical of those I am more intimately familiar with, then you are possibly assuming my ideas stem from that illustrious man's. Be assured they do not. They are mine own alone. They are insights that come through my personal instrument that is my brain and my body -- the very one being squandered by some of the lurkers on this forum and on nine3 generally, including some of the most illustrious supercomputing and aerospace entities in the known universe.

It is really quite amazing to be me, to be here in this moment and realizing how not only that my "concepts.html" and the corollary discussions about it here, plus the sacred erotic of the tao that link us to our binary being, but also the simple dialogs of HARRIER ANGEL -- my rock remedy for the re generation -- also have so very much to offer to the fundamental humanity of these exalted scholars and professionals.

I hope you are following my web traffic (which is public, so if you are so smart and it matters that much to you you can certainly find for yourselves) so that you may observe, as I do, the depth and range of the truths I have discovered about (for example) plausible deniability -- how that cherished yet poisonous tree saps moral fiber and depletes one's stock of merit. Ho, mon dieu, I would not want to be you.

I publish these insights here for the benefit of our species. Surely you must have observed how partisans on both sides of the global conflict mine the metaphysical precious metals of these insights.

And to you who are on the side of capitalists who profess to both buy and sell in fact blunder in plundering me in attempting to develop the nuggets you have derived here for your own profit alone. Do you truly believe that accessing it through the back end of a pornography site in a foreign country (among the many proxies dispensing nine3 regularly without any benefit whatsoever to the progenitor of these ideas you plumb and suss and "collaborate" upon with colleagues, not including me) will not dim your vision?

You would like the scene in HARRIER ANGEL where it says, "Doesn't it feel good to give credit where credit is due, how now that makes you so much more than the thief you often were, to become a paying customer."

One of the great things about music is how emphasis can be drawn out along a melodic line and cause lines like that one, that have let us say idiosyncracies of scansion to nevertheless fall in perfect rhymes! As opposed to the more demanding and difficult requirements of (the classical definition of) poetry, I love that about lyrics.
It LALLA!
y'r l'tl' xto

I hope

Who is doing it? - Friday, January 21st, 2011
Someone please let me know what this is about. I am aware that there are proxy servers addressed via "Guestbook-to-Wisteria" -- at least I have assumed that's what's going on because I've identified at least one of the proxies. But what kind of hacks are you experiencing? Is there some kind of other content being delivered to people wishing to read this blog?

I would truly appreciate enlightenment, including suggestions about what I can do about it.

I have a workaround in mind, which I will implement asap, however I am on deadline and cannot attend to it at this very moment.

Thanks for understanding.

Game Marketing - Friday, January 21st, 2011
Because of various cultural elements that a specific to a place or territory, a video game which is considered completely problem-free in one region could be rejected as unacceptable once released in a new territory. Such issues highlight why video game localization - unlike mere translation- is necessary for games.

However one seemingly simple yet relatively deep and complicated question has always bothered me: when does the "localization" of content stop being "localization" and turn into full-on "censorship"? And is that something one should accept?

In order to illustrate my thoughts, I'll use the newest installment in the Yakuza series. Yakuza 3 - an imported Japanese PlayStation game - was recently released in the US. A lot of gamers complained because some scenes and important elements of the games where changed when the game made it to US.

Now the question is: do all of these elements actually required to be changed? Isn't that just based on a stereotype that American gamers tend to be more religious and concerned about nudity and violence? Gamers were most likely expecting something different after reading about the game in specialized media

Most of gamers are reasonable adults who just want to enjoy the game as it is, instead of playing an edited, censored version of it. So please, developers, think of gamers first when you are localizing your games.

Game translation is not censorship and should be adapted to players in a certain territory.

Playtime - Thursday, January 20th, 2011
For children, play often involves, besides the nervous consumption even the simplest games, and exercise, unlike adults where it is missing altogether. We often see children playing football, cycling or walking in and not playing backgammon or chess on a bench in a quiet place as adults usually do.
Some games are difficult, others are simple. Depending on age and ability of understanding and action, children show different preferences for the game, the passing from one stage to another mental development. Your toddler tends to participate in the big games, but often fails to fit the conditions imposed by the game. A child with a stronger personality does not resign, but efforts to cope. The others, with a weaker personality, folds. For older children easy games no interest, because it enables them to train, to exhibit his powers games with their colleagues.

blog sites - Thursday, January 20th, 2011
To me it seems a waste to use blog sites unless there is no alternative. Does it make sense for people who share their thoughts and ideas by writing a journal online should provide this content free of charge to blogger or live journal or word press or any of the others?

OTOH, those groups no doubt have large IT departments that can keep an eye on hackers and protect everyone from their activities.

I deeply regret any troubles my readers may have encountered because of this simple forum. Perhaps I will have to rethink the whole affair.

Johnny2x - Thursday, January 20th, 2011
Stop hack the program!!!

Jews and Cyrus the Great - Tuesday, January 18th, 2011
Interesting comments, thank you for taking the time to share this historical note.

cypePeadync - Tuesday, January 18th, 2011
Judah, one of the 12 tribes of Israel, descended from Judah, who was the fourth son born to Jacob and his first wife, Leah. It is disputed whether the name Judah was originally that of the tribe or the territory it occupied and which was transposed from which.

|After the Israelites took possession of the Promised Land, each was assigned a section of land by Joshua, who had replaced Moses as leader after the latter´s death. The tribe of Judah settled in the region south of Jerusalem and in time became the most powerful and most important tribe. Not only did it produce the great kings David and Solomon but also, it was prophesied, the Messiah would come from among its members. Modern Jews, moreover, trace their lineage to the tribes of Judah and Benjamin (absorbed by Judah) or to the tribe, or group, of clans of religious functionaries known as Levites. This situation was brought about by the Assyrian conquest of the Kingdom of Israel in 721 bc, which led to the partial dispersion of the 10 northern tribes and their gradual assimilation by other peoples. (Legends thus refer to them as the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel.)|The southern Kingdom of Judah thrived until 587/586 bc, when it was overrun by the Babylonians, who carried off many of the inhabitants into exile. When the Persians conquered Babylonia in 538 bc, Cyrus the Great allowed the Jews to return to their homeland, where they soon set to work to replace the magnificent Temple of Jerusalem that the Babylonians had destroyed. The history of the Jews from that time forward is predominantly the history of the tribe of Judah.

86 the potty jokes - Thursday, January 6th, 2011
Assange Live Ser, you are naughty.

L-glutamine - Thursday, December 30th, 2010
I have taken the amino acid L-glutamine for most of my adult life because it improves brain function. It occurs in high concentrations in squid and octopus which I am sure is the reason those cephalopods are so addictive for me. I absolutely crave them. And I take a teaspoon of powdered L-glutamine in my smoothie a few times a week, along with a few other things, primarily lecithin, powdered pomegranate seed and rhodiola rose (all plant-based estrogens which have prevented me ever having hot flashes along with their numerous other advantages) -- by the way, and just in case you happen to be interested.

L-glutamine is a favorite of body builders because it helps to maintain muscle when losing weight, and I believe actually helps to add muscle -- and I suspect bone as well.

To try to get my husband to take this wonderful stuff without subjecting him to the hormones, I also dissolve L-glutamine during the cold phase when making jello. My husband likes jello -- the non-sugar kind -- especially with all manner of fruits suspended in it. Powdered L-glutamine is tasteless and odorless and dissolves nearly instantly in water. It cannot withstand much heat, however, so must be kept cool and used cool.

I tried takine creatine for awhile, but quickly realized it was doing bad things neurologically. I like to economize as a kind of game (when your happiness lies in blowing thousands on musical theater pieces, not to mention hardly ever working at income producing activities when caught up in the magic of it all), but even though the creatine was quite expensive and I had purchased three bottles to get started with it, I threw it all away including two unopened bottles, after trying it for about a week. It seemed likely to bring on something really bad, perhaps a stroke. If you find that supplement interesting, do please be very careful with it.

On the subject of musical theater pieces, take a look at the video and enjoy the vocal performance of Lia Macrina singing "Cry Me A River" at
nine3.com/Lia_Cry_Me_A_River.html
She's a great vocalist, and also happened to perform my "Nicole" from THE RAZZ, a little film of which I am uploading to youtube.com as we speak. The latter is a bit more elaborate and nearly a gig in which would eat most of the remaining space on my server. But I will send you a URL as soon as it is functioning and let you see what you think of it.

Ciao for now, bambini.

Until later,

Failure to yield right of way - Thursday, December 30th, 2010
I believe there are but two incidents staining my driving record, and both happen to concern this very subject.

I believe a straight interpretation would find you at fault. My mother-in-law failed her first drivers test because a gentleman stopped and beckoned her to go ahead. If someone willingly yields their right of way out of politeness there should be no wrongdoing, but perhaps the testing person was hard on her becaused he wanted to stress the need to cede. The family teased her about it forever after, and she never stopped bristling -- at the initial injustice and the teasing. Presumably no one had ever failed a driving test before. Anyway, she wasn't Italian, and I suspect that was the main problem.

The first time this happened to me, I was fortunate enough to be hit by a young woman who had an assortment of unpaid parking tickets strewn about on the front seat of her car. I believe the officer ticketed her instead of me in an act of vindictiveness.

However I was not so lucky the second time. A young woman was getting to be late for work and was letting her boyfriend drive her car. It was a real traffic tangle by the Boston University bridge in Cambridge, in case you know this area. I was turning left, a man let the traffic open up enough for me to get through since my passing through wouldn't be contributing to the jam but alleviating it.

However, tthe young man with the nasty girlfriend, from three cars back, saw the opening but not the reason for it, and attempted to jump the line and insert himself in the spot I happened to be emerging from. I stopped short and actually did not feel an impact at all, and there was no damage of any kind. But the young woman insisted it was an incident.

In Massachusetts in such minor cases it isn't necessary to involve the police. You just trade information and file your own police reports if you so choose. But I should have made them wait for a police officer, as in retrospect I think she might have relented in the interest of getting to work sooner. However I thought I was in the clear legally as it was not I who acted piggishly. I took the quick solution, and the one that let the traffic flow, and regretted it mightily.

The police report I filed got the same result as yours: failure to yield right of way. There was a small fine, but an insurance surcharge for the next five years ended up costing thousands.

I hope it works out for you.

unresaura - Thursday, December 30th, 2010
Good Day

Has anyone ever tried this muscle building supplements? I am looking for opinions on bodybuilding supplements and if you have any imput, please tell me.

Illidgetite - Thursday, December 30th, 2010
I was pulling out of a gas station, and traffic was backed up about 8 automobiles down, a guy was allowing me out of the drive way. I looked both ways as I always do prior to I pulled all the way out. And then out of nowhere a car hit me as I was pulling out in front of the man. The car went around all the other cars on a one lane street, over the double yellow lines I might add, but the police gave me a ticket for "Failure to yield the right of way. Am I at fault? Also I am disputing the ticket but I dont have any witnesses

Rio Grande - Sunday, December 26th, 2010
Hi good morning! Sexually Active Men Stay Healthy, Live Longer!

Medical Jobs - Wednesday, December 22nd, 2010
Thanks for an idea, you sparked at thought from a angle I hadn´t given thoguht to yet. Now lets see if I can do something with it.

iceduchTeen - Saturday, December 18th, 2010
hello!

Beast - Monday, December 13th, 2010
You got it.

cathelda - Monday, December 13th, 2010
So you think that's what I am supposed to do? Flog them?

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Beast - Monday, December 13th, 2010
If you beat them, they will love you more.

That's human beast being for ya! LMAO!!

cathelda - Monday, December 13th, 2010
I concur with Cohen's point, but would offer the secondary point is that those who love to engage in intrigue and power struggles frequently mistake the truly powerful person's kindness for weakness, and are doubly incensed -- even to the point of madness -- when their error is discovered. I happen to be feeling guilty at this very moment because long after the fact, seeing the devastating effects on the scrappers of my inviolability, it occurs to me that it may be much kinder in the long run to fight it out with them, just to be nice. To be forever passing ever more kindness on beasts? Yes, of course. Who am I kidding by even asking the question.

The downside, of course, at least with the human form of beast being, is that the the present struggle is only ever one battle. In cajoling and fighting and intriguing along with the best/worst of them just to keep going with them, the only certainty is there will be another battle coming on the heels of this one and -- win or lose -- ultimately you will have worked worked with people who love you not.

I still believe it will prove better to wait for like-minded souls. Do I not deserve this? And do not those who joined my cause only to take up the reigns of power for the fun of trying to wrest it from me, in failing to have done, deserve their suffering? I mean, it is sad. I am not perfect. I should be able to seize the reins, and rally them to me, that we may enter the even greater fray to come -- the actual horse race, and be done with this petty stumbling. Why have I not done this? Become even more powerful? Is it not permitted to be such a one who doesn't care for that?

Who was it who said, "The real miracle is working together." Henry Ford, I think.

This time . . . So be it!
xocx

Radiant - Monday, December 13th, 2010
"People who know they are powerful do not need to engage in power struggles."
~ Alan Cohen

Tomohon - Monday, December 13th, 2010
hmm interesting.

Thankyou

Tomohon - Monday, December 13th, 2010
nice post. Will Keep reading.

Thankyou

Maine - Sunday, December 12th, 2010
Awesome Blog. I add this Blog to my bookmarks.

Wiethold, I don't know what you are doing - Friday, December 10th, 2010
Thanks for letting me know you attend these sessions. I'm sure you understand why your post would be disallowed, however. No offense, my good fellow.

I think I have already told you, or at least alluded to the fact that, my insights have a source very different from those who practice the math and science trade in commercial undertakings.

I am a poet, inducting rather than deducting, if you will. While it may excite you to contemplate these insights, I cannot be relied upon to deliver their proofs. It simply is not going to happen, though you may benefit from speaking with me or asking questions. I may know things I do not know that I know, a fair and balanced corollary to the fact that (to quote myself in "Duncan's Song") "There are things we do NOT know we do not yet know we do not know." Between the two sides of this equation, we are vibrating strings upon a cosmic bow."

Do you understand? It LALLA, dahlink!
for light life and love,
y'r lit'le cristobal

xto - Friday, December 10th, 2010
One of the most radical facts about democracy -- crucial to democracy yet feared in any system once centralized power becomes entrenched -- is to accept that it must be "of the people, by the people, and for the people."

In the USA we are seeing democracy erode like an avalanche, in exponentially widening realms, because centralized power has become entrenched, and entrenched power fears nothing so much as the genius of the people.

One of the weakest things about democracy is that it relies on the good faith of its citizenry, for the perks and predilections of those reaching the level of governance have conflicts of interest between rank opportunism and faith in the precepts and presups of the genius of the people. And good faith cannot be legislated, as has been so amply demonstrated in the past couple of decades where (to quote myself, in "Sherlock Jones," "the things they say they're doing don't explain what's going down."

I see the United Nations as the prime example of a starry-eyed democratic ideal destroyed by the very structure it embodies. Democracies have always been fragile because the system itself can organize in a way to destroy its own principles. Thus did Saddam Hussein's representative attain a place on the Security Council. The bad guys, lacking good faith, can form coalitions and voting blocks just as anyone else can, and undo the entire package of hope for the empty young dreamers who think everyone is as okay as they. I take heart in another ridiculous enterprise, narrowly averted, that Iran sought a seat on the United Nations's committee on women's rights, and did not succeed. That was a blip on the screen for the newsmakers, but a little bright spot for me.

Without good faith, democracy cannot long survive.

It is a miracle of the US Constititution's checks and balances working as long as they did saw that our nation survived as a democratic republic for more than 300 years. It is the checks and balances that are falling apart now, that up until the most recent elections the US Congress seemed to believe that its purpose was to secure the power of the Administrative branch, rather than to jealously guard its own power (which is what the founders intended, that the three powers of Administration, Legislation and Judiciary should continuously quarrel among themselves and slow the compounding tendency of power. What we are seeing this month is the Legislative branch looking after its own interests after finding out what The People thought about Congress as the lapdog of the President.

In some ways I see Wikileaks has revealed little that can truly shake the foundations of the nation, since what has been revealed so far contains little of long range substance that should be damning to our nation as a whole. IMO what it really shows is how mediocre most of those in the diplomatic corps really are. The level of their exchanges is shockingly simplistic. It reminds me of reading the recently published letters Hilary Clinton wrote as a young woman -- a woman obviously posturing for the ages in the nascent stage of ambitious questing for power. I expected some spark, some insight. Instead they read like most of the Wikileaks material, as the mundane posturing of a dullard.

As for the international maneuvering of diplomacy reflected in Wikileaks, the average MI5 script reads on a level by quantum degrees more advanced. Perhaps diplomatic service is unattractive to smart, clever people of good faith. Or perhaps the corps screens for "the middle" of human intellect? I do not know.

The whole matter does remind me of the effect the youth revolution of the 60's had on Harvard University's selection process for its undergraduate student body.

I believe it was Thomas Wolfe who commented on the brilliantly talented, creative and daring mavericks of the undergraduate at Harvard, comparing them to the graduate students there whom he found to be (I am paraphrasing) dull, arrogant and suspicious of any ideas they have not been told to approve." Wolfe probably wrote this sometime in the 1920's.

Fast forward to the years of my own life.

I remember it as being the very year I entered college (not at Harvard, which I now believe to have been good fortune for my soul if not my pocketbook), at the sunset of the rioting in Harvard Square, that Harvard made a conscious decision in future to select not the most amazingly talented but those who would be easier to control. It was as though the standards used to select graduate students were decided to be ideal for the undergrad student body as well.

In searching the web for the accurate quote paraphrased above, I did not find it. But I found others from this great writer from the flowering period of American civilization that I thought inspiring in the present political climate. I will quote them here, but not before adding one final observation on the Wikileaks era, and the era of the the Greens.

I believe that when the communists of Europe finally saw the sunset of their beloved Marxist estates, ushering in a period of democratic hopefulness for people who had lived for generations with the crushing inanity, mediocrity and bad faith required to carry the most passionate dogma-spouts to the apex of power, those madly mundane souls who believed it the core of intelligence to be able to spout dogma scanned the landscape for their best opportunity to carry forward under the shield of subterfuge and anarchism . . . and they reinvented themselves as Greens. This has made for some wildly divergent bedfellows, as so many good and simple idealistic souls in love with spirituality and feeling good about oneself in the very personal terms of one's private life have adopted Green as the way to become who they are, and in truth they do not know with whom they are sleeping.

Enjoy, you wikis -- wake the fuck up. The Thomas Wolfe quotes I found on the internet do not, I fear, distinguish between the author of "You can't go home again" and the author of "The Electric Kool Aide Acid Test." Now that's a shocker! How did that happen? Well, screw me up, I guess I'm just going to have to go back to reading the books.

See if you can guess which is which. Here are a couple from Amalgamated Thomas:

"Not even the most powerful organs of the press, including Time, Newsweek, and The New York Times, can discover a new artist or certify his work and make it stick. They can only bring you the scores."

"If a conservative is a liberal who's been mugged, a liberal is a conservative who's been arrested."

"The modern picture of the artist began to form: The poor, but free spirit, plebeian but aspiring only to be classless, to cut himself forever free from the bonds of the greedy bourgeoisie, to be whatever the fat burghers feared most, to cross the line wherever they drew it, to look at the world in a way they couldn't see, to be high, live low, stay young forever -- in short, to be the bohemian."

Lorencolib - Friday, December 10th, 2010
Dont touch WIKILEAKS, faked DEMOCRACY!!!
Thank you

I'm sorry. I love you. Please forgive me. Thank you. - Friday, December 3rd, 2010
But as you are hiding in a black hole, I don't know who you are.

I'm sorry if you have been disappointed. I haven't given up at all -- I am here alone in this world where I can keep creating new things, piling them up in the drawer, making my gingerly forays as increasingly well-informed ways, having learned much through experiences that -- as well as they have taught me -- have also taken years, mecessitated material sacrifices, and delivered me disappointments also. These are all things I attempt to convert here, into positives like shared knowledge with those who might try as I am, that they may perhaps avoid some of my mistakes.

I endeavor to explain to my visitors some of the particulars of why it is said that it is "very difficult" (perhaps impossible) for a straightforward person, in good faith and trusting in good faith on the part of those working together -- having created something of acknowledged value and interest -- to succeed in bringing that creation to its audiences.

I do not think anyone outside of the immediate "family" of team members should think they could even begin to guess at specifically to whom, what, when and where the examples given refer.

If you do think you can guess, or do better than guess, at the particulars, then please search "lying in wait" in this forum to consider some of insights I have gained through this journey as to why lying in wait is an error that redounds upon lurker and quarry alike. It is a death trap for creativity, and an obstacle to progress, and the very antithesis of good faith.

In fact as I am thinking about it now I believe what I am trying to address is the same type of error (albeit differing substantially and materially in degree) as that committed through terrorism: they are behaviors where good faith is neither held as a value nor seen as a factor in decision making. Some over-riding idea -- a mental construct, whether it is a religious ideology or a professional modus operandi inherited from schooling -- dictate how the world of that particular pursuit "must be," notwithstanding anything. It is really a profoundly lazy mindset, freeing one of any requirement, at least on the superficial level, for thought, meditation, rumination, cogitation and self examination.

But that freedom from questioning is indeed superficial. On a deeper level, it is fatal to wellness. It is a small wonder that it is a spiralling trend to madness. If an entity so enthralled experiences a physical manifestation of that madness, for example living with such anger and pain that waking finds your hand clenched in a fist and your arm aching from the prolonged dream of readiness to punch someone, then that is actually an improvement in the condition, for at last it is becoming externalized. It is now available to conscious awareness where it may be addressed and corrected.

Of course, this correction is one of those difficult disciplines that one can only do for oneself. This applies to everyone. No one can do it for anyone else.

I'm sorry. I love you. Please forgive me. Thank you.

If it matters very much to you, then come out of the shadows, then we will proceed, then all will be well.

My own ruminations on my experiences bringing HARRIER ANGEL to the light inspired this song, the first written in "The Fin Demonium RAZZ," written in 1995.

"ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE" . . .
Time's the only wage
You're an actor so
You don't have to let
What hurts you show
Now let's see you come through
The scenes it's better when you do.
Someday will find
Place and time
And we'll play head to head
And there will be no questions
No betrayal, no deceit
And no regrets

nine3.com/worldstage.html

Black Hole - Friday, December 3rd, 2010
DELETE THIS POST

Prostate Cancer Symptoms - Wednesday, December 1st, 2010
Nice site, nice and easy on the eyes and great content too.

Thanks for checking in - Tuesday, November 30th, 2010
This seems like a good time to remind visitors that I dearly appreciate your comments. Even though most of them cannot appear here, it is heartening to hear your cheering.

Do you know, I think I may have neglected to ask you to buy the HARRIER ANGEL CD CONCEPT ALBUM -- ! Such "behaviors" are baffling to many who know me, as it is common wisdom that no matter how good you are at something, you will achieve your dreams only through the pursuit of them. I know nothing is ever handed to anyone, if only for the sole reason that however sparkling the gem in the unfiltered wild world, hardly anybody would be expected to see it or even hear of it through the the cacophonous montage that is the world.

I do pursue, you know I do. If not, how would these arts, resident at nine3, exist?

But there is the pursuit that is the progenitor, and this kind is cooking along quite merrily. And then there are all the other kinds of pursuits, that include the live performances, the marketing (holy and unholy) and the endless justifications, explanations, explications, and self defense that must follow and attempt to defuse the outrage of entities who can smell an upstart interloper approaching their turf from miles away and take it like the threat that it is to their own entrenched mediocrity. The whiff of this is the primordial signal to bare malice and savage with fangs. Prepare and beware: The pre-emptive strike awaits the unwitting affront you gave by the act of your mere existence.

But however painful my wounds from these skirmishes, I know these things do not hold here in this little forum. There is little to fear here. Here, e.g., there is no one who is suddenly going to offer me a discount on their services (for which I had contracted at the going rate) in exchange for sexual favors that they suddenly and perhaps in some surprise discovered was interesting them --, and who, in being declined (however gently, as though ignorant of what was being proposed), then trash me as some kind of harridan or demon to the host of their colleagues and employers whose own weaknesses prevent them from realizing that what they are hearing are the subterfuge and lies of wounded machismo, and this prevents them from availing themselves of the very value that could save their radio station from its present trajectory where it can be seen slowly swirling away down some bung hole to oblivion.

Yes, even after more than a couple of years this injustice continues to dog me at this very moment. Yes, I know: it is par for the course in Boston, and just one more example of why it is said by more worldly people that Boston is provincial -- deeply, beanishly odiferously, and narrowly recursively provincial.

For these powers, however precipitously slipping away, believe themselves insightful, savvy and unimpeachable and perhaps may never know that the producer I was so foolish as to hire (even though it was at the behest of my own ally) acted as he did because some unknown while ago he had already had sex with two of the women in my band -- one of whom pushed me repeatedly to make out with the guy, and the other of whom revealed that her experience with him had a "bad aftermath" that, though unspecified, sounded pretty certain to include STDs. The guy probably almost certainly believed it was some kind of sure thing that offering me a $40 discount on my bill would buy him something more (shall we say) intangible (whatever that means, it also would mean my self respect).

But there was never any chance I would have any congress whatsoever with this so-called man outside of that which I had specifically contracted (rehearsal space and recording services), and if any of his colleagues and employers knew the whole story they would doubtless appreciate my position very well, but they never will because none of them will even talk to me.

So this is only one (admittedly circuitous due to a practical need to obfuscate specifics ; ) account of many, many rotten experiences I have had when trying to get something done in the world outside of my own head. Once one of the heinous fiends (whose lieutenant let me know I should go up to the big man's hotel room) landed in jail a couple of years later. Another time one of them landed in jail at least five years later. And then there was the man in Nashville who (I believe I may have already told you) claimed to have killed someone and never spent a single night in jail.

And so today I acknowledge the very least I can do in this haven of the nine3 guestbook is to ask you for your help. Do, please, download the tracks, better still buy the CD itself.

Please also continue to do -- as I have repeatedly given thanks to you -- continue the kindly words of mouth and recommendations of my forum and my works to your family and friends.

In this you are doing well by me: readership grows, and that too is material -- a gift. Bless you all.

Here is the link to the CD --
nine3.com/PurchaseCD/

HARRIER ANGEL is a "rock remedy for the re generation," and the principles and insights you enjoy discovery here on the forum are embedded in the music and lyrics at a profound and meaningful level. Strong medicine, it took more than four years and $25,000 to create. And yet it sells for less than ten dollars American.

Won't you buy it, please? You'll be glad you did!

blessings, as ev'r,
y'r l'tl' xto, casz vn brun

adderall - Tuesday, November 30th, 2010
this my first post!

arcarge - Friday, November 19th, 2010
I just sent this post to a bunch of my friends as I agree with most of what you´re saying here and the way you´ve presented it is awesome.

Open image in a new window - Friday, November 19th, 2010
So many visitors have sent greetings like Dakota and arcage that I must take a moment to thank you all for encouragement.

Just as a reminder about the numerous hidden of quasi-hidden aspects to assertions made here, many of the drawings and other images are links and/or animations. To avoid having the site continually sucking bandwidth as you read, most of the animations are set to play a limited number of times. Consequently, by the time you scroll down far enough to see them they may have stopped running. If you want to see all the phases of any of these, just "right click" (or the equivalent) and choose the option to "open image in a new window." There you can see all the phases of the animation, and reload it to replay as many times as needed.

SOLVING FOR PI
Specifically, the mobius strips and the "complete quadrilateral" illustrations can give you cloud cats some major clues about writing infinitely variable yet predictable algorithms on pi with the fairly simple equations demonstrated by the "complete quadrilateral" shown here, which not incidentally also contains / describes the special nine3.com type of nine three configuration.

This is going to free you from needing ever larger arrays of servers for storing your data, children! You will love it.

: )

for light, life, and love,
y'r l'tl' cristobal

Dakota - Thursday, November 18th, 2010
I just sent this post to a bunch of my friends as I agree with most of what you´re saying here and the way you´ve presented it is awesome.

arcarge - Wednesday, November 17th, 2010
I just book marked your blog on Digg and StumbleUpon.I enjoy reading your commentaries.

Yankee Doodle, a personal fave - Wednesday, November 17th, 2010
A friend writes that her young son just discovered a subtle delight in the song YANKEE DOODLE -- delivered by the word "Macaroni."

That reminds me it's one of my delights, too.

Here's the context.

YANKEE DOODLE's use of "Macaroni" is also a rather subtle insinuation about where the British colonials are getting their muscle: the "pony" they are riding refers to the Italians in the North End of Boston aka The Sons of Liberty, who could be counted on to perform in secret the acts of knavery the Adamses and other bluebloods could never dignify.

A song in UPSIDE DOWNSTAIRS (a Cambridge comedy of manners) carries this one step further by suggesting these proto-English gentlemen yanks (never true puritans ; ) give a wink and a nod to the satisfaction their wives derive in that quarter. The song is "FALLING FOR YOU" -- "With some surprise I realize / That one has to be a Rover / She circles endlessly underfoot / Enough to knock you over / When your brother with a feather in his cap rides out / On a horse called Macaroni, / You suddenly relent, and send out the hound, / Bounding after the pony. "

Yeah, she's a "bitch' : ) he seems to want her anyway, and everyone will be the better if she's content : )

Sure this kind of humor is beyond the pale in new works of today's world, but it's the sort of thing Gilbert and Sullivan do all the time, and audiences still love them madly, so maybe there's a chance for something like this -- given the accurate brand and targeting.

Or so I hope -- the tune is here:
nine3.com/productions/falling4you.html

arcarge - Tuesday, November 16th, 2010
You certainly have some agreeable opinions and views. Your blog provides a fresh look at the subject.

WoWAngelaX - Saturday, November 13th, 2010
This is quite nice post. I would like to see more people posting in such informative way.

PloneeEnfoK - Thursday, November 11th, 2010
Hello

I really like your forum. Greetings!

OC3 - Thursday, November 11th, 2010
I just sent this post to a bunch of my friends as I agree with most of what you´re saying here and the way you´ve presented it is awesome.

Oslo - Thursday, November 11th, 2010
Great Post. I add this Post to my bookmarks.

Marketing Gilbert and Sullivan in Tenerife - Wednesday, November 10th, 2010
Over the past week I've been foraging for participants in what promises to be a wonderful holiday experience studying and playing Gilbert and Sullivan's "Trial By Jury" and "HMS Pinafore" in Tenerife, Spain.

It's a terrific program, but I must say, it's tough going out there.

A normally very effective way to target those who might be interested would be to meet and greet those studying and playing Gilbert and Sullivan, to get some of them on board for the workshop, and also through their enthusiasm for the subject matter get them excited enough to want to help spread the word. Since I am on the east coast of the USA, and it's a pretty straight shot from here to Tenerife, I have concentrated on groups locally and along the eastern seaboard.

However there seems to be a highly competitive spirit out there for leveraging contacts and preventing those who have not paid the keeper of the keys the appropriate tributes from making the kinds of approaches that used to be pretty facile. I'm finding my efforts stalling every which way I turn and am at a loss to understand what appears to be a pretty high level of provincialism.

Partly I believe my effort may also be experiencing further unintended consequences of the promise of a free and open internet that was so quickly exploited by spammers and other bad guys trying to make money a fraction of a penny at a time by sending out zillions of annoying and even pernicious pitches, and raising the levels of resistance by weakened, saddened and angry people who might otherwise be interested in hearing the pitch. Defensive actions were inevitable and now, compounded by an incredibly weak economy, no one seems to want to allow anything even slightly resembling free and open to have any access whatsoever.

I would very much like to help the Music Amici folks in Tenerife. Musical director Colin Price is a distinguished conductor who recently edited the music of the Savoy operas to enable performances very closely resembling the originals, and he has a full profesional symphony at his disposal in Tenerife. Moreover, not only are Music Amici brilliantly qualified to present a rewarding experience for participants from the strictly artistic point of view, but the accommodations (in a 5-star hotel) and locale (in beautiful Isla de Tenerife, which has everything you could desire culturally from cuisine to architecture to beaches and nightlife -- and is right next door to a geologically very interesting national park on its very own island). These factors will combine to create an experience well beyond the ordinary, and certainly beyond expectations for the kind of cash outlay required. In other words, it's going to be fabulous, and very affordable, and if you haven't decided what to do with your summer holiday I must encourage you to investigate it.

If you click on the image at right, you will be directed to the little pages that I set up for information and downloading the brochure, and from there it's just a click to the producing organization, Music Amici, in Tenerife.

Do, please, give it some thought. Music Amici are even encouraging participants to attend with "an observer" -- which is to say, you could bring someone else who is not planning to immerse themselves in the Gilbert and Sullivan workshop but who can audit as they wish, attend the final performances, and otherwise busy themselves amidst the pleasure of this delightful area. Workshop sessions end at 5:30 p.m. each day to allow everyone to dine, relax and explore.

Confidential to the New York group whose AD seems to think they are better qualified to present such a workshop, "Well, but you are not running one, though, are you?" And, IMO, the Brits offering this event do have the edge here. Not only are their bona fides on a higher plane (being, well, British), but this Tenerife package is far more likely to be a pleasure rather than a stresser like you would get for far greater expense in New York, and you would return to your own life refreshed and invigorated with no lingering questions about whether your luggage will bring some of New York's legenday nasty little parasites into your home ; )

Sorry, I couldn't resist. : ) It's the least the fellow in New York deserves. He took an unmistakably elitist tone and of course mentioned his colleague who had gone to Harvard : ) and even slammed me for referring to myself as "Cass" when the email header says "Cassandra."

"Well, you really threw me off with that," said he, despite the fact I signed my emails "Cass" -- and he said he welcomed my phone call. Well, like all such experiences, one cannot assume it has anything to do with oneself. He probably took it on the chin from some old sod just a little while ago and was spoiling to do the same to someone else. That would be the usual explanation, eh!

But this seems a good time to share my recent insight that all over America, the "snotty stuff" that for so many years gave the ivy brats all the edge over everyone else has become ubiquitous in our culture -- and therefore cannot stand much longer, if indeed it does still help at all even at this pass. After all, it only works if it's exclusive, and now every silly school from Suffolk to Hunter is cranking out people who know those tricks, too.

If you are among those acting like that in the hope it will get you something, allow me to suggest you are going to be needing some new material.

For the good people who love life and their fellow humans, try the sweet people in Tenerife. Their hearts are in the right place, they are doing it for love.

For light, life and love : )
It LALLA! xto

bimollser - Wednesday, November 10th, 2010
Big world hello. Big world hello, Jan. Big world hello, and bay, "Ow-woO00!"

meaning of thrill seeker - Saturday, November 6th, 2010
I´ve been visiting your blog for a while now and I always find a gem in your new posts. Thanks for sharing.

Blestedex - Saturday, November 6th, 2010
The possession of unlimited power will make a despot of almost any man. There is a possible Nero in the gentlest human creature that walks.

Frankfurt - Friday, November 5th, 2010
Very enlightening and beneficial to someone whose been out of the circuit for a long time.

- Lora

Montpelier - Thursday, November 4th, 2010
Hello

I really love forum here. Greetz!

Brazil - Thursday, November 4th, 2010
You certainly deserve a round of applause for your post and more specifically, your blog in general. Very high quality material

Confidential to J in Bel Aire -- now selling by the pound - Wednesday, November 3rd, 2010
J, I was responding to the apparently depressed K.S. who despairs about what she sees as limitations imposed on her by femininity. She believes the only way she can win is by being "hot" (which means "fuckable" and nothing else, despite other potential and various component parts that you describe as your personal stock of hotness).

K.S., you might not like it if you had the attention you think you desire. The men who respond to your hotness by rushing at you out of the woodwork are not the good ones. The good ones, if attracted, lay back and possibly appreciate you and are amused by you from afar, or even discreetly place themselves at your disposal and wait for an invitation or an introduction. It's possible they are gentlemen (no guarantees, of course) who by losing self control would think the less of themselves, thus protecting and respecting you. I tried to tell my beautiful younger sister this. I said she should ignore the mashers, make her own choice and her own move towards someone she liked, and thus find a far better person to love. But my sister didn't have the knack for avoiding flatterers. She was a man magnet, and it didn't help that our father gave her a red sports car for her high school graduation present (I got an electric typewriter).

Far better looking than I, and five inches taller, yet I was the one to receive five marriage proposals while she had maybe one -- with only a very few, very bad lovers and two rotten husbands along the way -- and died of cancer at 42, the age of culmination.

The ancients say if you haven't got something going by then, heaven pulls the plug on you. In this case anyway it appears to have been true. Her second husband whom I introduced bedded her the night they met. Ultimately, with the storms of tears and flares of rage that became her most reliable techniques for getting what she wanted from the cads she allowed into her life, she forced him to marry her. In the end, he was angry with me for trying to help her survive the cancer. Sad to say, despite her talent and beauty and the couturier studio she built on Newbury Street (a cash business -- six figures of disposable income from dressing the richest women in Boston) he thought she was a bore and he wanted her dead.

J, I'm not sure why you introduced the idea of the abused here. It seems something of a non sequitur. Perhaps it was merely a useful cliche trotted out on an occasion when actual thought formulation was beyond present intention but the drive to express would not succumb?

I'm more sympathetic than you might imagine to the abused, and I must ask: Have you ever gotten to know any specifically sexually abused girls?

I have -- several. Your characterization of what you think is your appeal has some things in common with their affectations, especially the tinge of the "fuck you" provocateur (inviting a slapdown).

The really ugly taboo many do not know about the abused brand of hottie (at least I have never seen it mentioned in the countless articles and studies I have read) is exactly how the wrong that has been done to them reverberates and is exacerbated through all their relationships, years and years on. The by now familiar canticles of popular journalism will describe the ruined lives without ever specifying what that means.

But here is what is means among those I have known. Without exception, each and every one of these women had moments when they could not resist the temptation to shock, and would say something in a freakishly sudden transformation to the kittenish slut persona (THAT word again) to the effect that she was a better fuck than anyone else. Try having that come out at your elegant dinner party for eight with a nice young man present whom you foolishly believed might be interested in getting to know the "hot" but fatally broken female. I had no idea she would begin discussing her breasts and pudenda at the table. This is but one of the social disasters I entertained in my various acquaintances with women who turned out to have been sexually violated in childhood through incest.

Would I like to have helped them? Yes, and I did try. Most of them went away quietly, usually owing me money (which I was relieved to think meant I would not be hearing from them any more). Was any kind of success (at least by my definition) even remotely possible? No.

I believe there is actually a growing subclass of people (crossing all socio-economic classes) from a society and families accepting incest, suffering addiction, and a host of other deeply destructive ailments, with the abusers and the abused drawn to each other like magnets. An observation that these people lack self respect is not equivalent to "laughing at, mocking, harassing or raping" them and nobody here either suggested or committed any such thing.

Most people simply can do nothing at all that will help, and can only hurt their own relationships unless the attempted intercessions are carefully (probably professionally) conrolled. I'm sorry my brain is polluted with their stories -- e.g., the little girl whose father said of her, "This one is for fun," and passed her around to his buddies and even to his own father, who was the only one she didn't like doing it with, and how years later when he tried to take her again she told everyone in her family what they did to her and went down on her knees loudly praising heaven and praying for deliverance, at which moment he suddenly dropped dead of a heart attack. This woman (a POP agent and amateur singer) wrote a song called "Do Me" that she wanted to record in my studio, an absolutely disgusting song, though not that much worse than the usual hit-hot fare. She often made fun of her "fiance" by imitating him having an orgasm. They fought and fucked constantly, and when he finally broke it off with her she sued him for everything she could get and ruined him both personally and professionally.

The purpose of the cheerleaders at the Lakers game is to excite the men and make them wild with lust. If a few squirrelly little boys laugh at and mock any half-naked girls dancing in public in their bras and panties, that is not equivalent to men disrespecting women. After all they are squirrelly little boys excited and confused by the sensations in their gonads. If anything, it is the women who are disrespecting the children, and rather than hoping to get your boyfriend to repress them you should have taken them out of there. If you disagree you know nothing, not even who you are kidding.

You will not help anyone to rise above the basic animal instinct by repressing sexuality. cf. nine3.com/SacredErotic.html

"She had the audacity to be born beautiful" is "copy" ripped straight out of a fashion spread -- meaningless, trite, absolutely silly and shallow. Extrapolations upon what I must be thinking -- e.g., that I think women don't appreciate attractiveness in males or that I think it's a crime for a woman to dress to impress in whatever way pleases her -- are more of the same.

Why did you spend so much time writing your response (your blogging machine sent me each and every one of the eight edits you made over three hours) and yet fail to remove such reaching? Surely you would not mistake me for someone who could fail to notice the carelessness and absurdity of your assertions, even as you apparently missed noticing that I might be a woman.

K.S.'s sad little dilemma of self hatred is false, self-inflicted, narcissistic, and (compared to many women's real limitations, described earlier in my explanation of what "abuse" means in just one actual case of an abused woman I have known) pretty easily circumvented, however not by anything she will learn from you.

J, there are many other points in your note I would willingly refute but I'm sure this has already antagonized you sufficiently, however unintentionally. I have followed some of your blogs, drawn perhaps by something in common with you because of your early life in a small town and your escape into a bold and daring existence of your own creation.

The final sentence of your latest reads, "Because she is still a fucking human being, and our culture should be smart and progressive enough to recognize that, instead of buying into this idea that the female is responsible for how the male does or does not comport himself." I find this nearly tragically and comically absurd.

"She is still a fucking human being?" Perhaps, but not for long. Like my poor younger sister, hers is not an approach that will see her keeping anybody's interest for long, moreover the harder she works at this tack the more difficult it will be to stay on the receiving end of the acts of fucking that appear to verify, in this ironic grammatical error of your attempted melodrama, that she is a human being.

Well, that's very funny, is it not? Yes, okay -- I know it was a simple emphatic profanity lacing the tone, hotness and style that you think are your very own but in fact bear stark resemblance to the standard pleasure model of a pornographer's fantasy.

But despite the general short sightedness and obsession with self that a person often suffers during the period of re-discovery of self outside a recently dead marriage, surely you will not hold your little boys to the standard an adult male must emulate while a bunch of sluts are pounding tits in their eyes. I would call that cruelty to children.

Now selling by the pound blogger responds - Wednesday, November 3rd, 2010
Following is the response I got from the Bel Aire woman whose boyfriend provided tickets that plunked their young boys in seats at the Lakers game right in front of the cheerleading squad, which caused the youngsters to squirm and act like little boys, laughing and pointing at the ladies dancing in essentially bras and bikinis. I'll post mine to her immediately following, with apologies for any who may have felt this blog has a g-rated policy. There is some salty language, which is difficult to avoid when discussing "hotness" and what it is that's being sold when girls dance around more than half naked in public. Sorry, too, the posts arrive "at the top of the thread" so unless you scroll down and read the ones below first, you will be reading in reverse order, which is not what I want sometimes but there is nothing this format allows that can change it.

So, anyway, here's what she said in the 8th edit I received : ) The previous seven iterations were not that much different, reflecting changes that appeared to be attempts to make certain things more politically correct.

--=--

Funny. My sister took that picture on her Blackberry during a magazine
shoot. That's why it's blurry.

Oh, okay, so if, say, an abused child doesn't know how to value himself,
then other people don't have to either? WTF? And who are you to decide
how someone 'values' herself (and what difference does that make)?

I enjoy my physicality. Usually I'm in jeans and no makeup, but tomorrow
at a party I am planning to don the silk minidress and killer heels. So
sue me. The hotness is a loser's game only when that's how you choose to
define yourself (or, for that matter, when you allow others to dictate
just what 'hotness' is in the first place -- which is all about
insecurity -- and that of course is not hot. Because confidence is hot.
As is a little bit of 'fuck you' spirit. Just a touch.) I also enjoy my
brains, my talent, my skills as a writer honed through decades of
obsessive reading, hard work and practice. Those things make me hot.
Hotness is a package deal. And hotness is not a crime. It's just not the
*power* that girls are still trained, conditioned, to think that it is,
partly through this idea that female sexuality is so powerful that women
themselves have to protect men against the blinding devastating effects
of it.

By the way, men can also be "hot" and women do enjoy that. Or do you
believe that crap about how the visual just doesn't matter to us &
doesn't turn us on?

Sharon Stone is drop-dead gorgeous in real life, by the way; I've met her
several times & seen her very much up-close. She had the audacity to be
born beautiful. Some people are.

By taking a catty tone, and by referring to women as sluts or not-sluts
or whatever, you're only reinforcing the very paradigm you're trying to
rail against. You should banish the word 'slut' from your vocabulary,
period.

A woman has the right to be hot. She has the right to be sexual. She has
the right to parade around in hot pants and bra tops if she damn well
pleases and not be laughed at, mocked, harassed or raped. Because she is
still a fucking human being, and our culture should be smart and
progressive enough to recognize that, instead of buying into this idea
that the female is responsible for how the male does or does not comport
himself.

And the Laker Girls deserve more damn pay.

All Saints Day - Monday, November 1st, 2010
Hi, I need to change my fb pic, but it's all soul's day and all saints day tomorrow, and my sis Mags died from cancer on this date exactly fifteen years ago, so I'll keep jack a little longer.

On the subject of what was in the water in Pendleton . . .

After my divorce I had a nuclear engineer boyfriend for awhile and when I told him where I grew up, he said, "OMG!" He said we were screwed. By that time David Dallas's mother and a few other people I knew had died from brain tumor, leukemia, etc. and so I wasn't that shocked by the news. I know exactly which sunburn I got did it to me. Anyway it's pretty well known in the professional community that we were nuked. Sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, folks. I thought you knew.

I got my miserable prognosis when I was 24 years old (squamous cell of the subcutaneous layer, and was told, "If there is anything to be glad about, it's good you got this one because it's very slow growing. You'll probably live between 6 and ten years"). Had been in Boston for just over a year and was on the flagship of all community health plans, Harvard Community Health Plan. Got the distinct impression I was going into the guinea pig pool -- the insurance was paying for everything, and boy did they want to try everything. "But I'm not sick," I said. "Yes, but you will be," said Dr. Joan Goldman (might as well out the beach, eh! I declined the treatment [chemo + radiation] and she kicked me off her patient list, which I guess was only correct). Strangely a few years later I met a woman with whom I became really tight friends kind of suddenly, which isn't that much like me, and it turned out her sig other had the same thing exactly and had been in treatment (which was pretty horrific) for the few years that I had not been in treatment. He died at 35, right in the window they had exxed out for me.

I never went back to the doctors -- have been seen maybe five times in thirty years or so (not counting eye docs and dentists). My approach was to do everything possible with education and natural remedies. My advice is that unless you are actually ill, you should just figure out how to get rid of it naturally or at least keep the symptoms at bay. There is a great deal of information and remedy that is very helpful. It isn't all bad. Sometimes I think the old wives tale about cancer just being the body's regenerative engine run amok (due, "new wives" would said, to toxicity) a correct surmise. The body is genius at healing itself, even if it has to do horrible things like push your cancer into your fetus, etc. If you get to know your own body, you can see what it is doing to heal itself. It's your job to help.

Everyone is terrified of cancer, but what is not known is the extent to which people submit to research programs without really listening closely to what they are telling you is going to happen. See the movie "WIT" if you want to see how witless smart nice funny creative generous kind people can be when a doctor (looking to make a name) asks them to participate in the research.

Oh, I guess somebody's got to do it. Just not me.

mzsftsxu - Sunday, October 31st, 2010
Great Post. I add this Blog to my bookmarks.

Splittail - Saturday, October 30th, 2010
Hi, Derek
Would you mind dropping me a note to let me know how you found that proxy server? Would love to know what's going on, who is contemplating nine3.com from afar
: )
besides Disney, of course who made at least fifty "secret" visits last month. I'd look at this month's raw logs, but it's kind of a PITA for me as I've a few deadlines looming that must take precedence.
Thanks!

ON ANOTHER SUBJECT:
The hotness mama had a great response to the foregoing (Oct. 28 post), and I've written her another, too. Will post asap. I'm kind of worried because she enjoys being provocative yet doesn't seem to appreciate it in others : )

Of course I do not wish to antagonize her. I'm sure she has enough problems, I'm guessing especially in the identity department. At least I certainly did when my first marriage died. that's probably where her obsession with being sexy comes from. Or maybe it's just the LA scene. It must be tough.

But she's bringing up some salient issues I certainly enjoy exploring with her, even at the risk of increasing her pique (which I did raise quite by accident : ).

Stay tuned . . .

yogamatfan - Saturday, October 30th, 2010
Hi, I'm Derek, I'm new. Please tell me if I'm violating any rules and posting in the wrong thread. I just wanted to say hello..
Don't worry, I'm not selling anything.

hotness revisited, now selling by the pound - Thursday, October 28th, 2010
A female friend bemoans the appearance of creases on the backs of her thighs and realizes the party is just about over, i.e., no one will want her any more.

She was responding to a woman who constantly worries about her own hotness factor, while criticizing her new man for failing to instill respect for women in their collection of sons, of which there are several under 12 years of age. This woman, still in her 30's, is a millionaire many times over, and the recently divorced mother of most of the aforementioned sons. The photograph she provides on her blog appears (to this artist's eye) to be heavily modified.

To the complaints of these sad, worried ladies please allow me to reply.

The hottest hostesses "do it" the same way Jerry Lewis avoids messing up his tux: by never sitting down. I mean that is how to avoid the creases on their thighs, of course. You have to get off your own ass if you hope to stop riding tail to the bank.

How can the big male tell the little males to respect the female when he himself has no clue? She values herself by the pound, so how do you think he is going to value her? The shelf life on anyone's personal hotness factor wanes rapidly, but the good news is it's not too late to change the game. By reinventing oneself in non-slut terms, perhaps.

Recent prominent "Sex at 52" (Sharon Stone) and "Sex at 62" (Cybil Shepard) articles bear images of "hot" babes that are so PhotoSchlocked it's just embarrassing, especially in the latter case where any hotness Ms. Shepard maintains are most likely due to the fact that she is a pheromone factory and always seems to look incredibly good when visited in person. The pictures lie, but that's not the story. My guess is her natural perfume overwhelms visual critique, and after the shoot they were horrified at what the pictures looked like. They would never have guessed they could be so wrong. It was all chemical.

This "hotness" you describe is a construct of the pornographic mind. It's the fantasy of arrested development and a game that you as a female even in the short term cannot win. After a certain age, only the deck is stacked.

BTW, the pic here looks pretty heavily processed. In just what market do you think women are, anyhow? As my native American mentor would explain, "Getting up on the rack with the meat, fish and game is a self-fufilling nightmare, Little Splittail."

Greetings! - Thursday, October 28th, 2010
Nothing happened on the full score front, but I did practice the 5 songs I am preparing to be able to present live. It's exactly one set. That's the very least of what I ought to be able to do, right?

And practicing is the best and most satisfying activity, especially when the alternative is breaking my head with 3 part wind/brass harmonies : )

Is it falling into place yet? Oh, OW!!!

Austin River� - Thursday, October 28th, 2010
Greetings everyone.

Hi, Henry! - Tuesday, October 26th, 2010
Thanks for your lovely note. It is good to know people understand the ravages slings and arrows psyche may sustain when mining the minefields for truth.

Your praise and thanks soothes a sometimes sorrowing soul -- !

Perhaps with such gestures we in this relationship do serve the god within --, for he is both, the act of you fulfilling through expression the love that you feel AS WELL AS, SIMULTANEOUSLY, my craving need for thanks and praise!

It is a perfect closed system, is love. And even in our little example, very close to what is meant by the three-in-one.

Now if I could just attain to the level where those who love me could also make offerings : ) and I could mount me scenes in the real : )

I really have fine instinct for how to do that. You know, it's just money. Money to pay people to do so many of the tasks that need doing. For those who think trading services in kind can compensate the way that money can, let me assure you it hardly ever works out that way. If going the quid pro quo route, bear in mind: You are really giving it to the universe, as the humans are not going to deliver their end in almost every case : )

This reminds me. I don't think I mentioned that the orchestrator's work on my project was delayed since last summer all the way through to the onset of cold weather, and then it became impossible to host him in my domicile for fear of the unthinkably high expense of burning the furnaces and humidifiers to a level that would sustain his comfort and health?

Last time he was here in October the utilities shot up by hundred$, and that was only for a few days while this visit was projected to be two to three weeks at the very least. I guess it would cost a couple of thousand to have this admittedly brilliant composer and orchestrator fulfill his end of a quid pro quo of longstanding, since he experienced delay after delay in his efforts to make himself do the job (which in is opinion could only be done in my presence).

The apartment where he would be staying has large rooms with high ceilings. The bathroom is also a gym, and has a large open tub and shower. It's great for working up a sweat and then taking a spa, but if you aren't going to get warm from your exercise, it will not be possible for me to get you warm by running the furnace! You may only come in the summer!! Is this reality too harsh to contemplate?

Actually I think now perhaps he believes he is entirely off the hook for this work he has owed me for scandalous ages, more than a decade that found me on numerous occasions working, sometimes for months at a time, advancing his projects.

Yet perhaps I will approach him again in the spring, if I haven't succeeded in getting the orchestrations by then, to see if he will once again say that he is going to do it!

If so, there is a very good likelihood I will ask for a different situation -- perhaps one that does not require me to play the host.

I have seen singers rehearsing in my music room that has been warmed to 70 degrees for their comfort shiver with chill and ask to borrow warm clothing.

I know how that goes. In Florida with J once, it was 85 degrees outside, and a sudden breeze flew through and gave our friend a grip and a chill. He was living in Florida. We were there shopping for a boat, and perhaps the phrase "hardy New Englanders" does apply. We hardly felt the breeze, let alone the freeze. We thought it was nice!

It doesn't matter how warm it is: if there is a chance of a breeze of a lesser thermal description, unless you are tough, you are very likely going to get cold. Maybe you will even get a cold! We don't get those, either.

We here are tough, and after some years of hardening ourselves off now feel content with 50 degrees F, 60 at the most. Already this year, sometimes I arrive in this office to find the temperature in the 40's, and it doesn't seem uncomfortable.

Of course, that is when I am still warm from my bed, hot shower and coffee, and I do turn on the two little warmers that by the time I would be starting to freeze have already brought the temperature to a good 50+ degrees.

Did you like the rhymes? Shouldn't I stop here and build the lyric that goes with it? : )

The point is: we go as cheaply as possible -- how else do you think I would be able to pass these hours writing, practicing, (and now orchestrating) . . . and playing the bonne femme in this enormous house? which in itself requires quite a bit of effort : ) well, okay -- the house is only relatively enormous. But, I fear, really a bit too much house for us, or at least our pocketbook.

Dear John! If he could ever think I love him not, he would be wrong. But I don't think he will think that. I am sure he knows that this disappointment for me at his hands will make no difference after awhile. Pretty soon. Not at the moment, but pretty soon.

a bientot! push me a hope that I will begin orchestrating today. I have been reading about it in various places and following the on-line tutorial from Rimsky-Korsakov's book (search "Garritan Rimsky-Korsakov" and you too can follow this lovely course). But I really should begin. It was student conductor of our orchestra in school! One thing I know is that is isn't brain science. It's just art. Anything that can be made to work will work.

I know a few of those reading this will be smacking their lips with satisfaction, believing what I am saying is proving them right: that in fact I am not a composer and should long ago have submitted to requisites to assign the writing credit on my music to those who will write the orchestrations. To them I say, search "Stephen Schwartz" and "orchestration" and you will doubtless find that he, even he, says, "Just write your songs in whatever way is needed for making the demos. You don't worry about the orchestrations until you have a production." Confidential to M: I daresay you do not assert that Stephen Schwartz is not the composer of his works, so why say that of me?

But anyway, maybe now I'm going to be the orchestrator after all -- just not if I can help it! I'm sure I will continue to try to get someone else to do it! Still, here I begin. Doing two opposites, simultaneously. That's why they laugh when they say, "It LALLA!" It is a joke.

xo, xto

adult dating - Tuesday, October 26th, 2010
Great website! Keep up the good posts.

rachat credit - Tuesday, October 26th, 2010
I like reading your site because you can constantly get us fresh and awesome stuff, I think that I ought to at least say thanks for your hard work.

- Henry

Amber Kelps - Monday, October 25th, 2010
Hello everyone...looking forward to using this site!

Sir DD - Sunday, October 24th, 2010
Great blog! Please continue the informative entries.

very funny, you Swedes - Thursday, October 21st, 2010
thanks for showing me the proxy
: )

I don't really blame you. I know you have your reasons. But how about recommending me for a job at Lincoln Labs? Those guys can't be that intimidated by me person : ). I hear they are looking for a couple of artists, and appear to be perfectly well qualified. Really.

London - Tuesday, October 19th, 2010
U can see it. It is following the earth's own geometry. That is key.

stuck on rewind - Tuesday, October 19th, 2010
I love you guys, and that's why I keep putting these insights out there, even though some of the biggest and most influential interests lurking here steal freely, apparently without remorse.

guestbook - to - wisteria: "jump to proxy" -- you think I don't see it?

That's the most painful example.

There are plenty of others: those who wait for these posts with bated imaginings, refusing even the fundamental connection between your own binary code addressing you through the power of your pulse (which is of course secondary to the breath of life that caused you to "become" a living soul), choosing instead your darkness that is the fear that this site is "pornographic."

To you alone -- and not at all to my dear friends who understand me -- I send you my lamentations for your sorry state. Even as you seek with as much ardor as your dissipated state can muster, you cannot advance. You can only go back.

The Sacred Erotic pages of nine3 are your salvation. You who are men, stop ejaculating so compulsively! Practice the deer exercise for men, and do not succumb to the easy release of rising passion but learn what continence means to the pathway of injaculation: it means everything.

The mere fact that the methods involve genitalia must not lead you to conclusions that you are to be encouraged in pornographic fantasies. If, for example, your brain is sick with rape fantasies and worse, start counting! Preferably by nines, with the algorithm of holding and releasing that I have given you so many times in these explanations. Thus you circumvent your death.

To those who are longing to hear a new voice but who encounter here the essays on the sacred erotic and react immediately with a rejection of that voice because of your own erroneous presuppositions, it is you who are truly stuck on rewind.

All your thoughts are unwise.

I know there are many who understand the relationship between your own unseparated part, i.e., "the god within," and see immediately the simple yet profound clarity of sexadecimal counting -- and here I would like specifically to applaud the cloud computing engineers who are getting closer and closer every day to understanding what is meant when it is said in the ancient texts that the whole universe can be seen reflected in the surface of a pearl . . .

I see you every day. Thank you sincerely for your efforts!

Teach these techniques to your children. As easy it is for you who "conceive:can see," their little brains will grasp the truth of it even more readily, and run with it. Then they will make the deserts bloom. The earth's own water and the salt that is in it will prove all that is needed for the next step. Return to the garden. "Return to the state of the uncarved block." It is already here, waiting for you.

Birmingham - Saturday, October 16th, 2010
Hi Folks

Just thought I'd post to say hi. I've been a lurker on here for a while and as a natural introvert, I thought it was time to "man-up" and make myself known.

Anyway, hopefully I can add some value on here and don't get flamed too badly ;-)

Thanks
Cannon Fodder :-)

Braunschweigers - Friday, October 8th, 2010
Wegehts, you krauts. You finally found me : )

For those who don't know me, I am addressing my relatives from a world gone by, before Grandfather Friedrich Wilhelm Hardwig Ludwig Leopold von B (not a first son) was expelled from homeland and family and came to fend for himself in the USA.

Today I see these long lost relatives have been searching for me.

How many times I "dreamed" I am he, from one of my first memories when I was small enough to remember things I did not know. I had gone in search in my parents's closet for a magnificent toy bear hidden from me there because I had done something wrong and been punished by having it taken away. My family were poor, and though we children wre constantly reminded there was no money for anything, still somehow we didn't know it. What for some reason I did know, at that moment, was that my prize possession had been taken from me and hidden by my parents in their closet. But I was confused for some reason, remembering a deprivation not from this but from another life.

The house was small and crowded with our family of nine, ten or even eleven people depending on whether it was a period when my grandmother or my uncle, and sometimes both, also lived with us.

I don't know exactly how old I was, only that I was very small. The reason I know this is that there was a nail sticking out of the closet door frame, and in my haste to visit my bear I struck my left temple on the nail as I ran by. I remember the shattering pain, awareness that I may have seriously injured myself, and what it felt like to lose consciousness in a sea of agony. I thought I was dying. Even very young creatures have the awareness of such things, when it appears life it about to be taken from them.

I dreamed a whole world then. Perhaps it was the equivalent of life flashing before my eyes, and since I was probably less than two years old at the time the meaningful episodes of my existence would probably have occurred before my current birth.

I dreamed of a paddock and many wonderful horses, of a large house and many wonderful rooms and toys, and my mother and father who were lovely and very handsome in their elegant clothes. I was happy, and running and running and running about my fabulous business, in a world that belonged to me.

As the agony returned to flood my senses, I began to awaken to a world dark with bitterness and loss. I was alone in a heap of clothing strewn on the floor of my parents's closet. I didn't even bother to go to the back of the closet to see if the bear were there. I knew it was not. I remembered that this now was not that one. I was crying, not bawling like a baby. Just weeping quietly as anyone might at the profound realization of such loss.

I pulled myself together and struggled to my feet. The nail that had struck me down was at my eye level, and I touched my left temple and felt the painful raised stripe of the abrasion. It was perhaps my seminal injury, one that in some way dictated all the other head injuries later sustained, one after the other, some out of mere recklessness or carelessness on my part and some "accidental" but bringing such experiences and revelations as I would suspect on some level a larger hand dealt the blows that one by one in their long sequence formed the conduit that would define my path to self awareness. Some of these injuries I truly believed had fallen at the exact moment and on the exact spot of my person that was absolutely necessary to my development. I will detail some of these at a later time.

But my thoughts at that particular awakening I recall verbatum to this very day. My thoughts then were clear and rational and noticeably, even to a small child, not the thoughts of a child. My brain said to me, with a matter of factness only slightly tinged with assimilated bitter sadness, "There is no wonderful bear here. That is all gone, you are now living in this dump!

"And you're a girl!" That was a truly hateful thought, but then my brain said, "Oh, well. You should be able to cope with that. Women have a lot of natural advantages. Besides, by the time you are grown up women will be able to do anything they want, just like a man.

"But SHE is your mother!! Oh, my God!"

I must have appeared very ill because even in the chaos that was our domestic life my condition drew the attention of my family. They were not often motivated to take notice of me. Perhaps it was the cut on my temple that did it.

I believe I have told you how low my status was in our family, being the second daughter born, the third child -- after my brother, the eldest conceived though not born out of wedlock, who even though he carried our father's name resided perhaps even lower than I in the chain of our collective being because of the perversity of European social order living on in our house that somehow deprived him of full legitimacy and drove our father to demand ever more pregnancies from our mother because he had to have "his boy." I don't remember an occasion when this was overt, but we all knew it, as four times daughter after daughter was born until at last she presented him with another son.

How we prayed for that second son, elevated to the top rank by an accident of an incorrect, late, wedding day! How well I remember each night our prayers, first the traditional, general plea, "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray thee, Lord, my soul to keep. But if I die before I wake, I pray thee, Lord, my soul to take," followed by the personal, "God bless Mommy and Daddy and Grandma, and please make Mommy's new baby be a baby boy so she won't have to get pregnant any more."

Working full time as a nurse, for what seemed a lifetime, our mother cried each time she became pregnant, and continued crying each day as she vomitted with her morning sickness saying, "Oh my God, what am I going to do?" I felt so bad for her that I disliked my father for making her have more babies, for what seemed like the longest time, girls upon girls, until finally another son was born.

Actually it was less than six years after my birth that the correct son was duly presented. Six years seems a very long time when you are young.

Then there was an accidental pregnancy, another time of the world that saw us praying night after night that she would give birth to a boy. And this she did. There had been multiple miscarriages and one full term still birth in the between times, but at last our family was complete at seven children, three boys and four girls.

But I have digressed! I meant only to say that the injury to my temple was noticed, and the offending nail pulled out of the door frame. I visited the little hole that nail left, many times, remembering my memory of the magnificent bear and the strange dream from the nail, and the even stranger thoughts of my brain upon returning to my conscious state, so that by the time we moved out of that little house to our big house in town, when I was nine, I was very keenly astounded at how small I had to have been to be struck in the temple by the nail that had lived in that little hole, because it was only a little over two feet from the floor.

Thank you, friends - Wednesday, October 6th, 2010
I appreciate your comments.

blue dolphin, this seems like a good time to mention the forum is moderated. Many attempts to post don't make it through, for a variety of reasons.

Guess the reason it has to be this way is pretty obvious ; )

Don't worry, I still like taking risks, just not the kind that allow people to embed php code that could crack open my server or some of the other clever things I've seen attempted : )

Submit Form - Wednesday, October 6th, 2010
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- Laura

gift mouse - Tuesday, October 5th, 2010
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blue dolphin 11 - Sunday, October 3rd, 2010
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Axum - Thursday, September 30th, 2010
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Casino Club - Monday, September 27th, 2010
excellent points and the details are more specific than somewhere else, thanks.

- Norman

Hey, Copenhagen - Sunday, September 19th, 2010
Why don't you send me email and we can talk?

xto - Thursday, September 16th, 2010
The foregoing is an exchange cross posted from fb.

Isabel's voice to me sounds like the love song of the female genius. She is a remarkable person, very popular among her many friends, and I'm so glad to have made her acquainance.

Dearest Isabel, thank you for your gracious acknowledgment. I have been away for a couple of days and feared this thread might have disappeared down the fb bunnyhole before I would get a chance to respond.
My own experience validates entirely what you have said about the means and methods of "humiliation, denigration, exclusion, slander and even character assassination" -- these scandals I consider to be sibling rivalry mishandled. By extension they reach down the ages in the history of that branch of the human race as it descended through the line of Abraham, does it not?
I am so glad you enjoyed THE ONION RAG. xo, in cristo

Isabel - Thursday, September 16th, 2010
Whatever it is dear friend Cass it is hoped that it is effective enough to reach some dumbed down sheeple. Those who continue to slaughter the innocents do not give a tainker's damn what any of us has to say. for the moment, they have the power. But Karmic Law cannot be changed and sooner or later it comes down on everyone here on this planet. Why should I or anyone take offense? To have accomplished what I have done in the world, I needed very thick skin to fend off attempts at humiliation, denigration, exclusion, slander and even character assassination - not by adversaries or friends but by relatives and blood kin. The forces of evil have not prevailed upon my person. Those who would readily betray you for less than thirty pieces of silver. are usually your relatives.
I thoroughy enjoyed The Onion. Love your melodious voice and the aphoroisms contained therein. And I must say the humor is very profound. Much Love.

the onion rag again - Monday, September 13th, 2010
A friend recommended an article in THE ONION, giving voice to "God," and I responded, "What cheek!"

She said, "More than cheeky I find it is an ironic way of stating the obvious which many humans have forgotten.'Thou shalt not kill.' It was not meant to be disrespectful. God /Cosmic Forces are in a stae of rightful ire."

So here I will say more.

It is sarcasm, which differs from irony in ways in which I am certain you needn't be instructed. Mass psychosis is what is in a state of ire -- happily or regrettably, depending on individual proclivities. You, quoting Akhnaton this very day, must on some level know that the cosmic is a set of laws -- as it says on the wall of the pyramid of the sun king, "The 42 laws of god which are god."

Until recently our science had not reached the stage when these can be understood except in terms of the metaphors of various cultures that enabled the barbarians of those particular regions to begin to grow civilizations wherein it would be possible for self-realization to occur for more than an insignificant part of humanity. We are in a moment of great change, but change most likely resembling not at all what those so fearful of change envision. I believe it will be the marriage of physics and metaphysics. What is practiced today as various religious dogmas will join the rest of the pantheon of anthropomorphic figures and fables of literature and mythology: beautiful, perhaps meaningful, and emotionally charged methods to guide souls in the absence of factual understanding of how the universe operates.

The hyper-emotionalism of those espousing organized religions's sentiments is the fruit of same chicanery and manipulations for political gains as seen again and again over aeons. Since, to quote Cyndi Lauper, "confusion is nothing new : ) is should be easily recognized by reasonable people. In times past it explained why people were cautious about pronouncing on "morals" (as they used to say in the 60's, "Did you ever notice those who talk about morals are the ones who have none?") and kept their heads covered and quaked and shook at the utterance of "His Name." But those times are not now, and instead we are witness to mass insanity resulting from the profligate manipulations of these principles. I believe the virulence of the current epidemic to be a combination of "millennial fever" and the timely application of strategies of contending natural political forces, long lying in wait and now rolling out into "play."

Whether individuals buy into this is a personal choice. It isn't "real" but the carnage is.

A fine example of true irony in the current madness redounds to the very subject of the Onion's shamefully ignorant screed, which must have taken all of ten minutes for some nincompoop to poop: "Thou shalt not kill." Details would be tangential to my point here, however, and moreover might run roughshod over readers' ideas of what pious people think ""God" means by this, since we and all of nature by definition in "His" food chain. And I have run overtime here as it is.

I do apologize if this offends. It was not written to do injury. Please visit "The Onion Rag" at nine3.com/onion.html
In it I sing the A flat above high C, the highest note I have ever used in a song : )

xto - Monday, September 13th, 2010
Here you go . . . for you, Lazybones, who wouldn't bother to corral all the corrollaries ; )
and so struggle along with disparate parts, trying to realize what it is that is being given to you here : )

For you I have put these drawings all in one place, even though you could have done that much yourself
: )

Wake up, Lazybones. Multi-dimensional Mind is calling. "The Way Is Easy and Fun."

In the past we have had such cognitive difficulties with calculation that we could not do without the zero, but now in the digital age we know zero is just another number and it does have exactly the same unit value as all the other numbers in any given system, and on the whole introduces a mental stumbling block if we take it as "cypher" yet include it in our system. Therefore I have given you the asymptote drawing, along with all the other pieces (well, there may be one or two I have to deliver ; )
to help you conceptualize how easy it will be for just the average human intelligence to learn to calculate in this new way, without the zero.

That is why we say, "Down cyper, null set, uncertainty . . . yours is to do or to die!"

Thanks for your interest! You can do it.

And, please, you must not forget, dear Lazybones, (this means you, M) that your ability to arrange these notes and these melodies will never mean that they are yours, to your own credit, and something for which you may demand royalty.

Accept this, darling: iamb their author
: )

&
IT LALLA!!
for light, life and love,
y'r l'tl' xto

Copenhagen - Monday, September 13th, 2010
So you are in DK and your server is in SE? interesting.
Thanks for the tip, look forward to connecting.

fliplespine - Sunday, September 12th, 2010
Nice site

breakfast - Saturday, September 11th, 2010
i have been following this blog for some time now, good job by the way

Hetelakytem - Friday, September 10th, 2010
Hi, you really have a nice website.

xto - Friday, September 10th, 2010
The Tao mentions the uselessness of visualization "in certain operations" because the human brain is far too slow to affect the changes in these energies, which they say by far exceeds the speed of light.

Our understanding of physics and laws of motions are advancing exponentially. Think of the crazy eight, infinity, like two bubbles rolling along eachothers' surfaces. The reflection of the thing is also the thing itself : ) Like the roiling rainbows we see in the soap film. The point of exchange (of information) between the thing and its non-thingness may resemble a split mobius strip, which has numerous ways for information to travel simultaneously without various date streams interfering with eachother

Look at this figure, a projector, using a nine three configuration where two or even three of the known quantities reside at infinity --
nine3.com/guestbook/images/CompleteQuadrilateral.gif

casz - Thursday, September 9th, 2010
There are always so many practical considerations in the end it hardly matters. I am excited that John is taking on the orchestration of THE RAZZ, incidentally for exactly a 30-piece orchestra yet scalable to a cabaret-size group, and I think he's deserving of plenty of credit for what he's doing. From now on THE RAZZ will credit "Music by Cass and John" because John is a great "composer" and the depth and detail his orchestrations will bring to this piece will I am sure be of inestimable value to the melodies and chord changes of a "songwriter" who is glad indeed to escape the requirement of laboring over the score. In truth, I baulk. I simply cannot make myself do it any more for fear of relapsing to the world of the jar, for always far too quickly and eagerly did my intellect begin looking at the music in those very interesting and structured ways rather than simply transcribing what was coming through to me from someplace where it seemed indeed it already existed.

What else matters? And how else am I going to get the orchestrations? : ) Why would I go to the trouble to find someone I know much less well, when I can work with John whom I know very well and in whom I have every confidence. He has promised to make a quick job of it and not break his head doing every single thing in that world that could ever be done to these songs. The situation simply doesn't require it. The songs and indeed the piece itself were inspired more or less by "Jacques Brel Is Alive And Well . . . "

It would make little sense for John to dig deep and bring out the Bartok in it, e.g., who was also writing European folk songs (in a manner of speaking ; )

But these melodies are simple and straightforward with perhaps a few unusual chords that thrum the heartstrings unexpectedly. None of it will become more wonderful through making them complex and circumscissile ; )

Thanks for the memories. However a lot of things went into my abandonment of music for twenty years, not just the need to find my voice. Maybe I would have found it somehow, and at a younger age. But the music industry I attempted to enter at the age of nineteen (that looked and felt like it could easily be the end of me -- not just the end of "my" music, but the end of "my self itself") was as least as big a factor as my own inability to get my head out of the jar of formal training.

I've always loved Dante Pavone, ever since my first lessons with him back in . . . was it 1989?

His studio in the South End was a wonderful place to sing. With a doctorate in physiology from the conservatory in Milan, he said he was the first voice teacher to apply classical techniques to the needs of contemporary and pop vocalists. Whenever a young vocalist tells me their voice becomes fatiqued and hoarse from a tough gig, I think I would like to teach them a thing or two from Dante's book. His methods allow contemporary vocalists to sing even with great volume and power without tiring or hurting the voice. I think he had a great influence on what is today a very robust group of excellent contemporary vocal artists.

Among other things, he also said, "Keep practicing. You'll be so good they can't ignore you."

xto - Thursday, September 9th, 2010
The next time M suggests you are not the actual writer of your work because you have not done, and indeed are not wholly capable of, arranging & creating the full score for a 30-piece orchestra, and that in fact the one who does this should be acknowledged as the real writer of your material . . .

you should say something like Vasari wrote about sculptors but applies across the board to artists of any stripe:
" . . . despite the diligent efforts which endow beautiful figures . . . with the essential elements of art, they could not they could not quickly achieve the finish and certainty they lacked, since study produces a dryness of style when it is pursued in this way as an end in itself."

I remember you said something very much like this about the time you turned your back on music for twenty years. Remember? : )

You said you were trapped by your formal training and couldn't find your own voice.

Now your songs have that finish and certainty -- Dante Pavone used to say your songs have "integrity" -- even though they may lack formal rendering.

Hi, Pamela - Tuesday, September 7th, 2010
You sound like a nice person. I am curious to know if you have any idea why your message comes from a server in Israel? That is odd.

Thanks.

AngelCutieinTampa - Tuesday, September 7th, 2010
Hello Everybody,

My name is Pamela Watson and i live in Tampa, FL. I teach 9th grade math and im 39 years old. I've been married for 12 years and have 2 wonderful children.
Anyway, i am glad I found this great place and just wanted to say hi and I hope to meet a lot of you and contribute
as much as I can. Have a great day.

Best Wishes,
Pamela

casz - Monday, September 6th, 2010
Thanks. The site is handbuilt, without templates of any kind : )

The funny thing about html is that back before desktop computing and the web, when computers were big and expensive, there were machines dedicated to typesetting.

When the first wysiwyg ("what you see if what you get" i.e., graphic interface) machines arrived on the desktop, some of the first best machines came out of a company called AGFA COMPUGRAPHIC providing machines for typesetters using a program called PowerPage.

I had one of those systems back when Nine3 was called "Cristobal designs." The machines were dual core with a counting keyboard which gave the ability to build what we now call "macros" only better because you could leave gaps in dynamic info by inserting something called a "data key" which could be filled in with the changing information, whereupon you could trigger the next group of commands in the program string to then "burst" the next segment of code into the line until it hit the next data key, whereupon it would wait for the next bit of changing information. PowerPage also had what we now call CSS, divs and a very powerful search and replace feature with which you could build as tables of any length for globally massaging data. And there were many other powerful and much more logical ways to do other things, too numerous to detail here.

Apple Inc. formed a partnership with Agfa Compugraphic to build the Apple Lisa.

Apple basically robbed Agfa and ran off with the goodies they buddied up in order to learn about. When big bad old Microsoft came along with what a lot of people considered bullying and dirty tricks for pressing their advantages, much of it used against Apple were nasty things learned from Apple itself, tricks Apple had used to ice Agfa out of the desktop graphic design business, but by quantum degrees more onerous -- sleazy practices different in scale but not of kind.

About ten years later when the web came out for the masses thanks to the ability of html to structure data for visual presentation, my business partner at the time was an MIT PhD who thought he was some pretty hot stuff "programming" web pages in html. When it came time for me to sit down to it, he was pretty astounded that I seemed already to know how to do it. That's because html was really PowerPage, dumbed down a little because we no longer had the dual processor and the counting keyboard (the latter of which arguably we still do not have . . .).

The funny thing was back in the day no one called PowerPage users "programmers."

Cascading Style Sheets didn't really catch on back in those days -- it was a cute idea that ultimately usually ended up taking more time and causing more confusion than it was worth because people began to believe it was okay to assume certain things at a much higher level than had ever felt safe in the past. Proofreaders disappeared, even editors have now largely disappeared. The person who used to do the typesetting became, in addition to typesetter, the graphic designer, proofreader, editor and sometimes even the writer.

The history of this period has much insight to offer on how we arrived at the current decrepit state of literature and language. Last week, for example, I received in the mail a rather slick and undoubtedly expensively printed (full color, nice coated paper, etc.) for a politician who, on the cover in large display type, promised to "reign in" government spending!

That reminds me of the old Firesign Theater gag about settling the old west when the priests come to the villages of Native Americans and sprinkles holy water all around, saying, "Domini domini domini, you're all Catholics now."

Only at the end of the 20th century, when desktop took over the publishing industry, they spoke to the hierarchy of professionals in the newspapers and publishing houses throughout the world, and bestowed their great mixed blessing, thus, "Domini domini domini, you're all typesetters now."

Fareox6 - Monday, September 6th, 2010
how's things, Awesome website that you have here.

Love the layout, do you mind telling where you brought the template from?

All the best

Factoringsn - Sunday, September 5th, 2010
great stuff gotta love it when you're lost

Marshall Islands|Kwajalein,Majuro - Saturday, September 4th, 2010
hey great thing we have going on here, hah

sayonara sista - Thursday, September 2nd, 2010
Thanks to everyone for your encouragement. So many posts along the lines of the shorts appearing below came in that it didn't seem prudent to publish all of them. If your notes do not appear at this time, please know they are nonetheless very welcome.

I spoke recently with a distinguished medical doctor of a grand age (84 years, a psychiatrist still active in his profession) who is seeking ways to enhance quality of life through the Tao. He had visited nine3.com and said, "The Taoist Secret of the Golden Flower� taken from your unusual website, nine3.com,�with its�1999 explanation about prostate massage, ejaculation/injaculation, the Lion, Deer Exercise, etc.�is truly new & amazing . . ."

He had many questions, mostly pertaining -- perhaps not surprisingly, since he is a psychiatrist -- to my own story and how I come to write these posts, as well as the music and lyrics, and conceive and execute the rest of the ideas here. I got to ask him questions, also, and his responses were convivial and detailed. It was truly exciting to make the acquaintance of this gentleman, and thoughts of our conversation and what else we could talk about energized my thinking for the rest of the afternoon.

He is particularly interested in Tao, and wanted to know my progress toward this creative state I by some miracle appear to inhabit. He wanted to know specifically how I had thought of the title HARRIER ANGEL, where the idea for the rainbow-driven heart art came from, and other things. In all candor I had to admit, "It just jumped into my head, or off my hands is more accurate. I often say my brains are in my hands. That's where these things really come from." It's true. Remember the inscription in the old books, "Caxton did it?" It was the fifteenth century printer's signature. In the present case, you could say, "The digits did it."

It occurred to me that perhaps these musings are stories you would enjoy, so today I write freely with this in mind.

Among other wonderful things about the Tao, I find I CHING a very reassuring voice of wisdom that proves the Great Undivided One is truly alive in my world. Whenever I address the tome, invariably its responses match with great specificity the circumstances I question. I'm sure my new friend, whom I shall henceforth refer to as "Doc," would be interested, and so may you all, in the hexagrams I recently received, so I have posted it at right.

I will explain the details later.

But first I must say in all humility I do believe the particular body that is myself has entailed whatever special attunement it has because extreme psychological pain in early life emboldened me to undertake the "vision quest" -- more than once, in fact -- for the purpose of offering the deity the option of taking me back to the loving embrace of the cosmic. I did love my life and want to live, but the pain (as they say) was tremendous : ).

Perhaps there are some posts in this blog that refer to my early attempts to escape in this way. To call these "suicide attempts" would be inaccurate for I did not really wish for death so much as to throw myself on the mercy of the judge, so to speak. The third child and second daughter in a group of siblings that ultimately reached seven, I was certainly not the worst treated person in the home. That distinction belongs to my elder sister who was deceived into quitting her dancing lessons to become chief cook and child care provider for the entire clan at the age of nine years old. Many fascinating anomalies attended the ensuing group psychosis, and I am convinced that one day I will open the book on that subject for all to read. At any rate, my husband often says, "You ought to post that voicemail on your web site, it is truly astounding," and when I say I think I should not do any such thing, he replies, "There must be a reason you were born into this family." That's adorable, isn't it? And he says it with humor, and truly bears no ill feeling toward anyone, let alone any of our relatives.

For the moment, it must suffice to say that my sister was given full command over all of us children except the eldest (a boy). She was a great reader aloud of fairy tales and loved the ones about ogres eating children the best. She was very musical and sang all the time -- we all did -- trying as much as possible to sound like Dalena Hawkes, the soloist at Peace Lutheran Church. Yet despite our Von Trapp or Partridge family image style, it was also with the mostly crude and brutal tactics that a child requiring discipline from other children might employ -- beatings, whippings, tongue lashings and psychological manipulation -- that she was also very effective at enlisting us, unwillingly of course, in family service. Unsurprisingly, a veritable hornet's nest of sibling rivalries ruled over all.

As part of the ritual of self preservation in the clan, I pretended to believe I was no different from the others. But in fact I was highly intelligent, and that did make a difference. I knew this, as did everyone else. But in our case the second daughter and third child in a hierarchy of young was most certainly not the one who was supposed to stand out.

I like David Byrne's line, "You think you're the fortunate one." Well, yes and no. As can easily be seen in a clan of cats (which we closely resembled, having no practicing "moral" oversight* : )

aside:
(*I love that use of "oversight" -- er, that is, I hate that use of "oversight." I remember when it replaced "supervision" in the Federal Aviation Administration regulations manuals. The best summer job I ever had in high school was working for them, mostly doing the thousands of page replacements in a veritable wall of binders lining and chief's office at the Pendleton Municipal Airport. How I got this job is another story, but here I must say these page replacements were almost entirely for the sole purpose of replacing every instance of the word "supervision" with "oversight." I thought it humorous at the time, and only now to do I see the ultimate meaning of changing that language in that particular way. But anyway, as I was saying)

It occurs to me now that the mishandling of the inconvenience of a very quick-witted girl child in a batch of pretty smart kids is probably the chief factor that set our particular brand of sibling rivalry on its rocket ride to hell. Officially, I was to be ignored, and was possible to ignore specifically because I had been pre-empted and shut down by a consensus of which I myself perhaps had been the progenitor.

When I was six years old I tested at the high school level in every subject. With great elation as I sat at my test, flying through every subject, I thought, "This is wonderful! I know all this stuff, and when they finally see how smart I am they'll have to give me a proper education." I'm not sure how I knew about such things, but indeed when the scores came in the state offered me a place in the state school for gifted students. My parents refused. In fact they didn't even tell me, I learned about it from a school mate whose mother somehow found out and told everyone. I'm sure it was because my parents considered it their own responsibility to raise their children, so instead of receiving the huge gift of escape I craved, I was given extra measures of religious education instead. I begged incessantly to be sent away, to no avail.

My sister started calling me "the genius," then others started doing it, too. I hid my poems and paintings in a box in a secret place, which she ferretted out and burned in a ritual while my younger sister and several of the neighborhood girls danced around laughing and jeering as they read some of my things and threw them into the fire. You will have to imagine what that felt like, as so far I have found no way to describe it.

At seven I took several deep sniffs from the cyanide kill jar my brother used in his insect collecting. I noticed immediately that I became more stupid, and regretted it deeply. My second grade teacher, who loved me, noticed it as well. My penmanship, which had been very beautiful, instantly became an illegible scrawl. She was horrified on my behalf, and demanded, "What happened to you? You've slipped! What happened to you?" Of course I did not tell what I had done, but rationalized sadly in my own heart, "Oh, well. You were too smart for your own good anyway." And this, I have come to believe, most likely was quite perceptive and true. For example, we now know definitely that high IQ does not correlate with happines or success in life, and with that first impetuous act of self-destruction I carved approximately twenty points off mine.

The school principal joined Mrs. Gould in saying good-bye to us on the front steps as we were leaving school that day. When I saw him I began to cry and cling to my teacher, and I heard her say to him in hushed tones that no one else was supposed to hear, "These children are being neglected."

Mrs. Gould sat me apart from the class, along with a girl who had motor problems, and together the two of us labored over our penmanship until we caught up with the rest of the class, which rather surprisingly took only a few days. With that I realized I might have to learn to work a little harder, but that overall I had probably not been greatly injured by my folly. And at least I knew what cyanide smells like.

As I am writing just now my head begins to swim with these recollections. It isn't painful now, not at all. But every few moments I feel faint, then it passes. Even now it recurs, momentarily, and my vocabulary fails me. These must evince some sort of event underway in my psyche ; ) I don't think I have ever written anything like this before.

At eight, our family visited Yellowstone National Park where we spent quite a lot of time among the geysers. There were wooden walkways to follow, and many parents (though not ours) had their children on leashes to prevent them from straying onto the thin crust which, we were warned again and again, could crack open with a single footfall, sending the hapless child into the boiling cauldrons of mineral water that hissed below the earth all around us. I, of course, ventured fearlessly onto the crusts, tempting fate. This behavior did create some commotion in the crowds of visitors who were upset that my parents did nothing to try to control me. And my parents were quite embarrassed, I'm sure but pretended to take no notice. I looked at my father's eyes and saw his thoughts, which spoke to me as clearly as language, "You are the only one who can decide to live your life. If you are a dummy, it will be just as well if the bad thing happens sooner rather than later, before we spend any more money on you." It hurt to know it didn't matter that much to him, but I thought he was right.

My father was a Volga German, of a pioneering group brought to Russia by Catherine The Great to prevent incursions on the territory by colonizing the area across from Turkey. They was an isolated group, very prosperous but extremely hardworking -- not Amish but much like the Amish -- living in such harsh conditions that childhood mortality was always high. It was believed to be dangerous to become overly attached to one's children because the depression resulting from their losses often destroyed whole families. My father's family saw the writing on the wall in 1916 and by 1917 and were able to sell out and emigrate to North Dakota. Many who stayed lost everything, including their lives -- slaughtered first by Cossacks and then by Bolsheviks.

I don't think I ever stopped running around on the thin crust covering the geysers until we had seen them all. I believe I kept at it, completely intractable, and was neither punished nor lectured at all. They simply ignored me, as usual. Since nothing happened to me, I was actually thinking the warning signs probably overstated the danger, at least for a person of my size, but to everyone's horror later that day a young boy did crash through the crust and was boiled to death within moments. To me that seemed like the answer from heaven that I sought. I was supposed to live. The next morning there was a massive earthquake and the park was closed to visitors for a long very long time to come -- until the locations of the geysers had once again been ascertained and new boardwalks laid out. That was the only visit I have made to Yellowstone. This occurred in 1959, which I can pinpoint because our family drove from Oregon to Montana in a new blue Chevrolet station wagon.

When I was ten I ventured the farthest my ridiculous "vision quests" would ever take me. One night at dinner, which all attended without exception, there was so much conflict and misery on every side that my mind teemed with the terrible escapist imaginings I believed I might be capable of enacting. Like a Roman, I even thought I knew how to make my antagonists get dead -- and that there was somehow a distinction to be made between a course of action such as this and actual murder. But this wasn't even kidding myself. I knew how wrong it was, and as agony and hatred for the tormentors quickly converts to self-hatred -- at least in me and I am sure many others so afflicted -- I left the table and went into my parents' bedroom. Confronting my own reflection in their big mirror over the dresser, I spoke to Him, the heavenly father, as I began to brush my hair.

"I can't do this," I said. "I don't see how it's possible to be a good person. I'm going to break my neck and come home to you, and if you don't take me from now on I'm going to be YOUR problem. YOU are the one who will be responsible. I can't be held responsible because I am only a child." Then I felt shame because I knew it wasn't true, and it was utterly foolish to think I could lie to God. I had wrapped my hair around the brush, and with a great sadness said, "Okay," and yanked with all my might.

Regaining consciousness who knows how much longer, I struggled to my feet and saw the ghostly pale reflection of myself had its head twisted strangely, with a large lump on one side of the neck. I felt very ill. I struggled back to the dining table where I had apparently not been missed, but my mother leaped up and caught me just as I began to fall. I had fainted again. They put me on the bed in their room, the hairbrush still twisted in my hair. The doctor was called, and he quickly arrived. They tried to force me to tell what I had done but I would not, and as I was really quite ill finally they decided to let me alone.

I did see, actually see, Him, that time, and many other other times in the years to come. Through this escapade I had given myself a tendency to lose consciousness and have little fits from the energy flying up the spine and taking a wrong turn, leaking out perhaps, through slightly separated cervical vertebra. The frequency of these has lessened greatly over time, but usually it would happen in response to strong pain, anything from swallowing too-hot tea to striking my hand against a chair accidentally or being thrown down mountain road embankmant by my first husband (which he actually did one time, only because he was drunk, and just to be humorous) or getting an injection from a nun who hurled the hypodermic into my hip and I felt it jam into the bone, or having a leg cast removed by a nun who didn't see well enough to realize the saw blade was set too deep and was cutting my ankle, while my mother (her green eyes snapping with pre-emptive fury that I might embarrass her professionally by crying out) wordlessly warned me that I had better shut up.

Each time, with pain that grows and grows, the light of vision and consciousness closes down like two sides of an archway clapping shut. Then I am running to Him, and I am happy -- ecstatic -- and He folds me in waves of indescribable loving kindness. I am so glad to see Him, and I beg to be allowed to stay with him. He waits a little moment, considering me, and then he says, "No, you have to go back. There is much for you to do." He understands, completely, and so do I, and as I begin to regain consciousness I am crying with all my heart, then pain is everywhere, and everywhere there is a sea of chaos and noise and ringing and roiling, and I am very ill.

The blessing of knowing the two nuns who accidentally injured me was that I learned to distinguish between those who care and those who do not, for both those ladies were horribly upset -- indeed shocked by what happened, especially the lady with the saw who realized that my mother had stood there the entire time and not noticed the sheen of blood spread up the circumference of the blade and the red mist of tiny droplet -- but was entirely engaged in maintaining my cooperation. I was in agony and couldn't believe they didn't see it, as I tried to suppress screams and crying. When a small shred of flesh caught by the serrated blade started flying around too, the nun finally noticed and stopped cutting, and that was when I fainted. Reviving, I could see very clearly the nun's emotions were totally different from my mother's. The nun's reaction of mortification was palpable, and she turned her back on us and walked out of the room and someone else came in to complete removal of the cast. I think there were many who did believe themselves to love with me -- probably at least the half dozen men who proposed at various times believed they loved me -- but until I met Naro there were no fluttering butterfly sensations in my stomach, and nothing at all like the feeling of being with him.

These fainting spels have happened only three times in our years together. The first time there were buttons strewn all over the hall when I came to -- he had ripped my shirt open and he was looming, a supernaturally enormous and heroic entity hovering near, as I pushed the chaos away from my senses, knew his love, loved him with all my heart, and hastened to assure him it was not that serious.

Therefore please do not fear for me, dear readers. My life is full of love now, and that's what matters. It is exactly as my sister said when I tried to get her to apologize for refusing to allow me to play the piano and ridiculed my singing. "Well, lbut ook who's playing and now," she said, "so it does matter." And she is, in fact, absolutely correct. For who can say what would have happened had I gone to the preferred schools or been allowed to practice the piano? Even the trajectory of a star may well be meteoric, and not made well for giving long light.

My only point in describing these events to you now is to illustrate how many of these circumstances I believe did open certain pathways for me, to attunement, because I continually sought them, because there was no other way. My means were perhaps primitive as any Native American's, who would embark for much the same purposes on a death-defying ritual adventure, to offer themselves to the divine and prove that their own life was meant for living, and open a streak of insight in the soul to turn to when the need for such inevitably arises.

The Tao appeals to me because it is in direct terms quite rational, even scientific, as it is mathematically based. Its poetry is profound and astounding and on point, and in my case at least rarely requires much in the way of interpretation, as you will see if you stay with this tale to its end.

I told my new friend, Doc, about this reading. It is a reading that recently helped considerably in making a hard decision to withdraw from a situation which had appeared to hold some promise for working on a production of HARRIER ANGEL.

I was asked by the director of an upcoming production (not HARRIER, but perhaps leading to something for HARRIER, to be on his team. There was very little communication between us at all during what I expected to be the pre-production period. I assumed I would be working for the director's team as a member of the theater company.

I have gone much further than this on a couple of other occasions, into theater relationships that were doomed and damned, and yet by the work of what felt like all the demons, somehow the shows did go on. And through it all I learned a little bit about such creatures as have monumental egos borne up in the heights by clouds of seething rage. And other things. Suffice it to say, in this case, after a few months of unreturned calls and emails (perhaps only a half dozen in all) red flags were up all over the place and I feared the relationship could only fail. There was so much to do, why would we not begin at once? Besides the practical necessities of creating all that was needed, I also needed to know that we could work together. All my queries were met with dead silence lasting weeks punctuated by brief emails with excessive winkies and smilies promising the grandest of things, the stated desire to get together soon, and then nothing. I had already had a headache for two months when I took this I CHING reading. The reason for the reading was one question, the only real question: how to get out of that director's team without making big waves, and enemies of those I considered friends.

The director and producer involved with me were utterly lax about professional courtesies -- non-responsive to the point where I had actually begun to believe they had forgotten about me. It is a Boston tradition, after all, to give no notice of such things even when great plans have been discussed and direct and unequivocal assertions about the works to be done together are on the table. I believe it is even encoded in professional behavior by at least one famous music school here, so I call it the Berklee Out, and it proclaims, like a zen koan: "No one must ever say no. When the phone doesn't ring and the email goes unanswered, therein lies the answer." This is very hard to get used to, but over the years in this town I have grown to appreciate there is a certain wisdom in it. It isn't right, it certainly doesn't feel right. But when enough time has passed it's true that everyone will simply forget what it was all about. A vague excuse made much, much later does never an enemy make. The same cannot be said of letting people know where things stand.

So when the communication was non-existent, I was almost relieved. I thought it was over. One month into my migraine, I arranged a meeting for discussing the next stage in developing my project, HARRIER ANGEL. A key laggard who had never committed to attending this meeting, and was therefore not on the agenda, arrived hours late, insulted the bartender, complained about the price of the drinks (twice), and said he hoped I wouldn't mind if we talked about his project instead.

What could I say? He asked about my capabilities: do I have space? do I have power tools? can I make sequentially numbered tickets? other useful qualities? I answered honestly, yes. To me that did not mean I had committed Nine Three to becoming the new home of his studio, nor that he could possibly suppose all the work of his studio might henceforth be done entirely at my studio, and for no credit whatsoever. This was, however, exactly what he thought was about to happen.

Also, to my surprise, it turned out this was to be a co-production of his studio and the theater company, for whom he had no kind words at all. He considered them such dolts as could never execute anything like his great plan, and said that even their most recent production would have been completely lame except that it had his mark all over it.

And, he said, he would like to move over here, to my place, because the landlord where he lives is not nice, and moreover he must live up at the top, under the roof, which leaks. "I will promise you this," he said: "Any time I am on a project, I will offer you the opportunity to work with me again."

I was dying inside.

He began to make sketches on a napkin. The sketches were each about one half inch square, and he continued to stroke their lines again and again into a hazy cloud of graphite marks as he described the elaborate, revolving set pieces with multimedia integration, and real wrought iron railings, all without knowing the size of the stage, nor the sizes of any of the pieces he had in mind. To me this meant he neededs a designer, but he clearly believed himself to be the designer as well as the director, and he planned also to personally execute the movies and animations that would comprise the multimedia components, leaving me to create the tickets. And to provide the premises and other resources for whatever he wished to attempt.

He described plans to enlist community support in various ways and displayed pique because I did not know the name of the furniture store he was planning to ask to donate various items, as he could not remember it himself. I finally named an appliance store, and it was correct. He seemed to feel the mere fact that it is not a furniture store should not have so long hindered my intelligence from delivering the name of the establishment he was talking about.

This is perhaps thirty percent of the horrors he presented. More than this need not be said. I'm sure I have said too much already. The meeting marked an escalation of my migraine, which soon enough ebbed to its earlier level because of the next long silence on the lines, which lasted four or five weeks that time. Then he emailed me to say he would like to come over and see my place.

Since he turned out to not execute a Berklee Out, the only question in my mind was should I now Berklee Out -- or should I take the riskier road, and tell him the status.

So I CHING came out of the desk, and those of you who are still with me here can see quite clearly, as I did, that He (the Great Undivided One) delivered on point.

And so almost certainly I knew this to be another occasion for an � bient�t, mes cheris : ) and a sayonara sista.

Withdrawing with a letter instead of a silence, I did not then follow up by going around to each and every person in the company and explain my side of the story as people in this area will recommend doing as a necessity for counteracting others who interact in that way. I have been told many times that I should go about to each and every person who will listen, to explain my side of a story of a failed attempt to rise to the heights. But my strain of dna does not use people with gossip, and there is nothing anywhere in my life that could have prepared me to do such a thing. It's simply unthinkable.

Anyway, as this fellow had also already demonstrated that he is quite the hand around the character assassination guillotine, I was pretty well certain my neck would be going on the block straight away. And I don't think I was wrong about that. Now I must move on, yet again, yet -- as I still love these people very much -- hoping that after some time passes and the dust clears they will forget all about it or at least realize I did nothing wrong. It is painful.

But I CHING gave me "Heaven" for my final outcome, and that means the greater good, so that is how I must proceed.

And the good news is I may have got an axe, but it came BEFORE spending months on an insane errand expending maximum personal resources only to finish as the bad guy anyway because in order for the show to go on I might very well be the one who would have to play the heavy at the last minute, making unreasonable demands for goods and services on short time and no money, and therefore everyone probably, maybe, would hate me anyway, and, also, maybe, there's even a crazy bastard who in the natural course of insane things could very conceivably have managed to be living in my house.

Believe it or not, this has all happened before. And so the current disappointment presents an improvement over those circumstances. And my headache dissipated instantaneously with this message from I CHING!

I wrote him the letter. I said in whatever ways possible I was available to assist the company, as a member of the company, and not as a member of his studio.

As my correspondence with people in that company who had very recently expressed interest in me has suddenly berkleed out . . . that, apparently, is that.

So be it! For light, life, and love,
cristobal von dessin, casz

adarlSnurelia - Tuesday, August 31st, 2010
Hello,
I have been looking at your forum.
I wanted to introduce myself and look forward to participating
in your forum.
Talk To You Soon

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coffee machines - Wednesday, August 25th, 2010
Excellent blog! I actually love how it is easy on my eyes and also the facts are well written. I am wondering how I may be notified whenever a new post has been made. I have subscribed to your rss feed which must do the trick! Have a nice day!

kredyty - Wednesday, August 25th, 2010
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Remington - Saturday, August 21st, 2010
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New York - Thursday, August 19th, 2010
My father was a native of Bronx, NY and he did very well in business after getting an electrical engineering degree. Engineers move around a lot, so we lived in quite a few places -- incl. quite a few years in and around Boston. He always used to tell me, "Boston stinks."

He said the people and the business climate are "provincial." I find people often say that about the area, but it's rare to hear any details explaining why people might think that. I think your story is an exception -- fills in a couple of the gaps anyhow : )

TravelingTommy - Wednesday, August 18th, 2010
Pretty cool vibe we have going here, keep it going =]

IOU - Wednesday, August 18th, 2010
I know! I miss you, too. I would very much like to share some of the thoughts running through my head, but I am romping on a submission (which requires essays, lists, curricula vitae, etc. etc. in addition to presentation of the work! Ugh, it's hard -- and most likely to no avail because as my friend Dr. Dr. GN says, "They are not doing what you're doing." Nevertheless I have already put in many hours, and yesterday received a reminder from the benefactor that I should submit! Isn't that something like a nasty trick? ; ) What are they thinking? What am I thinking? The work that spawned this foundation's largesse celebrated a prostitute drug addict thief with AIDS. We had our world premiere performances for HARRIER ANGEL the very same week as aforementioned, and when we talked to the press in Boston they were in a snit of some sort and retorted, "Have you seen 'Rent' ? THAT'S the one everyone is going to be talking about!" And declined to give us the time of day, despite the fact they had everything to gain from having a successful beginning from a work originating here. By the end of our little run we were selling out the house, and one critic from THE BOSTON GLOBE did let someone know that he was in the lobby and wanted to speak with me. Alas, I was deep in a drama over a production matter and could not attend to him more quickly than within the next five minutes, and when I hurried away to see him discovered that he had waited only two minutes before leaving in a huff. That particular critic no longer has his career at that paper, but almost nobody else has either. So a few tens of thousands of dollars went down the tubes, and here we continually hear crying from the press about what a mystery it is that no original works of any merit emerge from here even though it is "a worldclass city." LOL!

Did I mention I must also paint the porches during this lovely coolish dry weather, to protect against winter's brutal blast, too soon to arrive? I caulked the 1st floor back porch this morning after sealing it yesterday. Will give it one more coat of sealer at 3:00pm, then plan to put the deck pain on tomorrow.

Yes, it is women's work -- isn't everything? : )

More soon! See you! xo, casz

Jubail - Wednesday, August 18th, 2010
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KayataDub - Saturday, August 7th, 2010
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Knobpiolo - Friday, August 6th, 2010
Hi, I've enjoyed reading this post and I'm gonna read some more!

Blogging - Wednesday, July 28th, 2010
It was good of you to let me know, welcome!

I would like to say that I will try to write more often so your interest more often will be rewarded. But realistically it isn't even possible to hope for this, unless of course you yourself could provide me with a housekeeper, laundress and cook --, and / or you can convince someone else that I must be provided with such support, or, at the very least, must be given the use of one of your extra properties, preferably in NYC and attached to a university where I can take my meals and confer with collaborators, and then pursuit of my beloved genie Genia willbecome the focus of all my efforts. At that point, regular blogging (and documentation) in support of what I am sure would be a most interesting ascent in the world and business of the theater, as well as various and sundry musings, will also become a likelihood ; )!

Barring that, I can only work in fits and starts on my arts, and on this forum even more intermittently.

The lovely old house where I live with my dear Naro is probably too much for any woman to maintain on her own in the haute bourgeois style to which we would prefer to subscribe. We excuse ourselves from this by referring to most of the rooms as studios (as which they actually are being used). We have an apartment where we live, and the rest are work spaces. The 1896 building's infrastructure is astroundingly hearty, with the most recent remodelling (wherein a house became three apartments) happened in the 1920's.

But there are contingencies, of course -- thankfully very occasional ones. And, unhappily I have a current example to deal with -- plumbing.

Very recently I could have been heard bragging about the amazingly efficient pipes in the kitchens (of which there are three) which have given me not one jot of trouble in the twenty-plus years I have had the honor of using them. I daresay that is some kind of record.

But perhaps you have also heard me say that the house is in some sense alive, or at least responsive, to my thoughts (cf. the tale of the writing of RED RIVER VALLEY), or perhaps -- in the case of this problem -- reactive. No sooner had I congratulated the excellence of the plumbing than kitchen #1 and kitchen #2 both experienced complete blockage of the drains in each of their double sinks.

I don't believe in coincidences, and this seemed very dire. Surely the entire structure was kaput and I was soon to be enmired in a thoroughly horrible if not mind-bogglingly expensive reworking of the entire system of pipes.

This happened late last week, and since then I had been giving my all to an ordeal of plungeing and dredging and bailing, with some very creepy precipitates yet nevertheless ultimately to no avail. Over the weekend Naro and I worked at it together, with him as ever the naturally excellent and handy engineer and me as drudge. Removing an old brass pipe to get the snake through, it promptly broke at the threads. He rebuilt the structure under the sink with PVC, and it did not leak, but neither did it drain, and so on Monday I called a dozen local plumbers. Only one of them picked up the phone, bless them!

They are cousins, forming two different contractor businesses, backing each other up, called Anointed Hands and Thesolutionplumbing.com. The latter arrived within thirty minutes. A young man who had planned taking the day off because of his birthday celebration the night before, he got up at the behest of his cousin who was already engaged in Waltham that day. Thesolutionplumbing.com's usual projects are new installations, so imagine his dismay at being told the 8" pipe in the laundry (in the basement) was the thing that was supposed to carry the runoffs and was no longer doing so. He said he had never seen such a thing as that big pipe being used as a kitchen drain, and said quite frankly did not believe me. However soon enough we proved that was true, as standing in the laundry below while he fished away with the snake from the next floor up, I could hear the snake moving in that pipe, and feel its vibration.

We had been living with carpets rolled up and shoved aside and tarps completely covering the floors since Thursday, can you imagine! The young fellow (26 yrs old) worked valiantly all day, with me assisting in running up and down and carrying buckets -- tasks that by this time I had become very well accustomed. In the end his cousin did have to come over with an electric snake to penetrate the clog.

It turns out the monster pipe carries within it three separate drainpipes, two of which had stopped and the third still running probably only because that kitchen has for many years served as a carpentry shop where the sink is hardly ever used.

They finished their work successfully, the financial damages were rather less than we ever could have hoped, and they went away by 4 pm, which was wonderful but not a full reprive.

Because of course that was not the end of the matter for me.

It took the whole next day to put the first floor back in order, and today I am doing the same for the second floor. It will be exactly one week tomorrow when I quickly wet mop the already scrubbed and stripped 2nd floor kitchen and apply as many coats as possible of a vinyl sealant. This will probably not be many coats as it's supposed to be raining.

How much creative work, vocal practice, or instrumental practice do you think that I have done over this period? You are correct, the answer is zero.

Last night I did my cooking on the BBQ out on the porch, and grilled enough so today's dinner prep will be very quick. Now I will return to that place on the 2nd floor and carry on putting it back together.

I have taken a few minutes to write here because your comment has been so timely and appreciated and it made me feel good. Thank you.

As a matter of fact I have been under a migraine for more than two months because of my frustration with a new production start-up.

Certain matters of recent business concerning use of my works as the starting point of a production company, with two others, came to a halting end after I became convinced that if the three months we have claimed to have been working together had netted absolutely no material advancement, then it never would, and I withdrew.

That is when the plumbing happened, some could say as the house's own response to my need to expell a stoppage : ) -- I will write more about this "living" entity that is my antique house at another time -- and that being finished at last, another opportunity has presented itself. This one is in the person of a delightful young woman recently graduated from Sarah Lawrence, who took one of the roles in my recent table reading. She wrote, right out of the blue, to let me know her availability has suddenly increased substantially due to employment issues, and I am now waiting to hear when she would like to get together to see what we can cook up together.

This young woman is very well trained, bright and beautiful and perhaps willing to sell the project (and say the things about me that I cannot say myself), so we can raise money, raise a production --, and so on! heaven help us.

So one door closed, and another has opened already, and we will see what we will see.

Tata, darlings! Wish me well! I do know you do, Vemmaub (whoever you are ; ) and the rest of my loving readers. As for you lurkers with money, position and power to make a difference -- I hope your hearts will soon move as efficaciously as my kitchen pipes have done, and you will find yourself willing to get on with business for the good of mankind, as I swear you and I would be doing if you were so trusting as to let loose a sum of capital for this purpose. I know very well if you wish it, you can simply pick up the phone and call me and it will be done, and if not that -- considering the length of time you have enjoyed your imperial spying here should certainly be sufficient by now to let you know you whether you love me or not --in case you do not, and if for you I am for nought, then at the very least do turn away from your reading here. Then perhaps your teeth may no longer suffer the ghastly gnashing that forces you, if only in your innermost secret spaces, to acknowledge a certain truth about yourself. If the latter be you, kindly be kind --, be gone, and take the devil with you.

It LALLA! xoxox, casz

vemmaub - Tuesday, July 27th, 2010
I find myself coming to your blog more and more often to the point where my visits are almost daily now!

London - Thursday, July 22nd, 2010
Hey, nice to see you here!

I just got some great comments on the HARRIER ANGEL rev i did in May -- very helpful suggestions. I'll take another run at it and hope to get in on the readings at Milton Library. If not, someplace else, and soon!

Your help would be appreciated! I know you do readings! ; )
thanks,

SBIGGY - Thursday, July 22nd, 2010
Hey guys,

WOW, MOM ! - Thursday, July 22nd, 2010
I guess this guy gets you! Of course, we all do!! much love, cathelda

Rensselaer - Thursday, July 22nd, 2010
Wow! Wow! Cassandra Von Braun - you are DEEP!

I have just checked out your Nine3.com/concept page, and it is Brilliant! I have not yet completely grasped it, but I love the ideas and approach - an artist's view of Mathematics! Wonder-full! I will continue to "Be" with it - it's so rich and titillating! I also installed your Sexadecimal Font on my computer!

You exhibit an incredibly wide range of interests and understanding - Electromagnetic Theory ('The Wire Song"), Mathematics (Pseudo - "Sexadecimal" System, and Real -Fermat's Last Theorem, yet!), Artistic creation (UPSIDE downstairs), including composition ("The Wire Song"), and a clear singing ability and (probably) acting as well, Home Improvement (renovating Bathrooms, handling power tools)... wow! what else??

Creativity, thy name is Cass! I am dazzled, and so, so happy to know you and begin to get acquainted with all your dimensions! I'm sure there are more - I have merely "scratched the surface" of the deep Iceberg which is you!

What is the "non-object" (on another plane of existence) that is associated with the object that is Cassandra? :-)

Are you a direct descendent of Werner Von Braun? That would explain your amazing prowess! Again, I am sooooooooooo glad our paths have crossed, Cass!

Namaste, with Love, from Ray-diator! ☼ ☼ ☼ ♥

vemmaxo - Thursday, July 22nd, 2010
Thanks For This Post, was added to my bookmarks.

Thanks! - Thursday, July 15th, 2010
Ray-diant! I appreciate very much having the opinion of an electrical engineer on the scientific accuracy of the language in this piece.

Finding the parallels between science and art will I believe form an important basis for understanding the parallels between physics and dogma-free metaphysics.

The Wire Song amuses me greatly and I am very glad to learn not only that it defies no science but also that you find it amusing also.

Yesterday I recorded new vocals, hitting every pitch accurately. Yet they may be somehow less "lively" than the one in place at this time, not sure. Must ask Naro's opinion.

I also heard from Mr. Boris Blank's organization, who are putting me in touch with the people who can negotiate for the right to use his track.

Rensselaer - Thursday, July 15th, 2010
The Wire Song is great! And I love your singing of it!

It weaves loads of ideas, words and concepts from the broad spectrum of Electromagnetic theory into a very creative little ditty. Clever, very clever. There isn't anything in it that flies in the face of what is true in the science, save in this verse:

"So what's the frequency, Danny?
One hundred percent out of phase
Just flip your periodicity, man
Next time you enjoy the exchange"

"Frequency" and "phase" are two attributes of electromagnetic waves which are not equivalent. Frequency is the rate of vibration (cycles per second, or hertz) and Phase is the shift (in degrees or radians) of one wave with respect to another of the same frequency. I'm not even sure there's an anomaly here - it seems to say that the frequency is out of phase, but I'd just keep it - no one will notice probably, and won't care if they do, in my opinion.

Bastille Day - Wednesday, July 14th, 2010
Bastille day is also our wedding anniversary -- today it is truly nineteen years of wedded bliss.

The only celebration we are planning is to dine at Gennaro's in Quincy. My Gennaro (aka Jerry, Naro, or Jerry Joe) is at work today, but has vacation through the rest of the week. A different Gennaro owns the restaurant called "Gennaro's." Need I say we love it there! I can't wait to be with him tonight.

Today is a cool 71�F, with occasional gentle rain. It is a good day for recording because the air conditioning can be turned off in the studio. Having finally completed the notation of The Wire Song, I will give this piece one more day of my attention, to try to do the very best vocal tracks possible in one day.

Typically I skip this step, letting the "scratch track" vocal stand in favor of moving on. But now I believe I will try to make it the policy always to do a little better, give a little more than "good enough." If successful, it will mean I am not be rushing off to the next thing quite so precipitously any more!

Is this a sign that youth itself thus abandons me? In a way. It shows I no longer have the faith that listeners can appreciate the song and realize how much better it would be -- as Sandy said, if we "do it exactly the same, only better." : )

But now seems quite possible my esteemed benefactors-in-waiting are unable to appreciate the treasure offered, nor hear the truth of my insight, perhaps due to the mental laziness and/or general impatience exhibited by "slightly" missed pitches : ) and the under developed artistry of these quick and dirty tracks.

Secret admirers of mine, whom I continue to see lurking here, you do tear at my heart in a particularly useless form of torment. It comes in part from my having chosen security over poverty, and other factors, including from realizing how some people respond to their feelings of love : )

For if you do not love me, than what are you doing here? Lying in wait? Don't answer that -- not aloud, and not to me. Perhaps this will be the best way to insure that at least this time you must tell the truth, if only to yourself.

Anyway, I know no one will blame me for choosing a beautiful life with my husband, as the domesticated female of a mated pair, and letting the huge weight of Art that lives in me take the secondary status that will perhaps forever delegate me to the convenient ranks of dilettantes in a great nation -- which is a charmed enough existence in and of itself, mes vieux! Tomorrow I may suffer anew, but today I feel this is true.

a bientot!
cristo

THANKS! - Wednesday, July 14th, 2010
I took a few stabs at creating RSS feed directly but it wasn't working and when i asked my server's tech for help, the response was, "Oh, it's easy. You just gluppul de blubble de blub and the blabla blablabla blabla."

: ) so i moved on to the next project, hopefully something that reflected a more productive use of time : )

so Google can do this? Good! Heads up, homies ; ) spread the word
: )

MisterWong - Tuesday, July 13th, 2010
I just added this RSS feed to Google reader. This is great stuff. Thanks

cure for melancholia - Monday, July 12th, 2010
Someone searched my lyric! how cute of it to be stuck in your or someone elses's brainpan!

I try to choose my words, which are my jewels, and hide them sufficiently well that they will not be found without the exercise of special feeling ; )

Therefore I think it's really must be the one who heard the song before and wanted to hear it again, yet had no way of finding it except for the (heavens, how I hate to use this term, it's kind of scary) "earworm" that is "cure for melancholia," and that through the agency of a beloved search engine bought you back to me! So hello!

For everyone else, this is what THE ONION RAG says:

"She said the onion is a remedy
a cure for melancholia

With pain that's this tremendous
the smallest things upend us
i'd have to get five tattoos to feel this much relief
and feel that i have grieved
to the end of all my grief"

and THEN . . .

TA DA!! the sun breaks through !!

(that's enough of that ! C minor sadness AWAY!!

It is so right and true! And why, you must ask -- and how is that?

I don't claim it's mine, altogether. I simply "mined" it! i.e., I made it "mine."

In 1961, recordings of the music of the twelfth century prioress Hildegard of Bingen began to appear. There are four or five albums of her music extant, and it is well worth hearing.

It is sublime, and apart from that several hundred years ahead of its time musically. Once you realize that JS Bach wasn't born until 1685, then arrives the rosy-fingered dawning awareness she was a saint, a goddess, a genius of higher consciousness somehow miraculous nurtured and preserved instead of, like some rare flower growing along the side of the road, run over by the truck of casual human happenstance.

Lovers of Bach, do forgive me for the following assertion, but it is not mine alone. There are many who agree she was authentic -- in a way that was recognized even by the Roman Catholic Pope. Perhaps because of the seclusion of her life no musical movement influenced by her ever emerged, and she remains largely unexplored.

I find her original and modern, and among other phrases that stuck with me was the one mentioned above, where the key changes, utterly smashing sorrow. That's the line I mined ; ) for The Onion Rag. It lives at

nine3.com/productions/onion.html

This song exudes a sort of chiaroscuro that never fails to attract me, and (now that I think of it) perhaps Hildegard von Bingen has been a much bigger influence in my work than I have realized. Use of this phrase for this moment, however, was more like picking a favorite trinket out of the jewelry box to complement an outfit. It was not the primary mover for the song's inception. That credit belongs to Uncle Ludie, and his "Fur Elise," which also happens to be quoted in The Onion Rag. This is how it came together.

When Beethoven wrote "Fur Elise," it was for a seventeen-year-old young woman who was his student. He wrote it to be simple enough for her to play, as a display of feminine grace and charm. I am also quite sure he wrote it to express full appreciation for this lovely, spirited, charming creature who would nevertheless not be allowed to become fully her own woman, ever, as such was the fate of the female captive given in exchange for the niceties of European culture at that time. Simple as it is, his little song contains that bittersweet depth.

It is no wonder this remains such a popular piece, for what gift could ever exceed the loveliness of having such a young woman given to you, or (even better) giving herself to you?

For the first song in THE RAZZ I needed Tonion (The Onion) sing something to help us understand Nancy -- a girl in the troupe of players he awaits. He is thinking about Nancy, a lovely creative of the aforementioned feminine type. He sings this song to justify her, and the ways of the beautiful, docile, nurturing, loving, serving female who must give her soul away in being governed by others -- master or husband or child or all of the above) as the price of at least enabling civilized existence. Whether circumstances would then follow to deliver said glorious "bourgeois" possibility would become the next challenge in the chain of being for achieving higher awareness within that higher higher civilization. And that is a song for another cycle -- perhaps Schubert's "Frauen Liebe und Leben" (sorry for misspellings, if any ; )

I used "Fur Elise" as the key, tone and mode of my song about Nancy. The actual quotation from the song did not appear in it at first, von Bingen's did. But later another opportunity arose. I had always wondered whether Beethoven's line would ultimately fit. To play it is a bit subtle and tricky at first but, perhaps unsurprisingly, it did fit. I was highly amused by the way it felt in there, and so it remains.

Once when this song appeared before an audience, a man said, "Why was it necessary to plagiarize Beethoven?"

I didn't have time to give him the entire story, but have found that time today. And I remain pleased! Thank you darlings.

Oh, by the way -- this is the song that uses the uppermost note in my vocal range ; ) the A flat above high C! Considering the fact that the lowest note in the song is E below Middle C, singing it in this way (instead of broken up among different players, as it is done in the RAZZ) is verbotten to almost anyone but me!

That's all for now,
kisses,
casz

bingo - Thursday, July 8th, 2010
You got it! I have recently collected a few pictures of tiaras for styling the one Don is planning to wear at the symposium. Maybe I will paste it on his picture to show you what kind of fool he is prepared to be -- what kind of fool for love : )

If it happens this folly will reverberate through the family, since the tiara is a priceless heirloom he has been tantalizing both wife and daughter with for many years.

If Don were to enact his professional suicide in this way, the memory of the deed might forever taint the diamonds, further damaging the familial bonds. Certainly the tiara could then be of little happiness for the current generations of women because of what its part in the public humiliation meant to the clan's social standing.

Aren't you dying to know how the Adamses get out of this miserable debacle?
: )
I promise it is a coup de grace! However the time it could take me to deliver it will be a scandal in its own right.

Of course with proper teamwork it could be done rather quickly.

Perhaps it will be said of the artist that, like Tesla, in the end he found it quite satisfying and exceptional enough just being who he was, for the pain of wasted efforts trying to work with humans really was unnecessary. There could be no fault found in the artist if after his death the quantity of work in his file cabinet proved he, at least, had done his work.

Alas, the shame of squandering the creative gift will rest with the squanderers -- those of sufficient means who claimed and perhaps even believed in their own hearts that they were searching for the great talents who could save the civilization, yet each time they met one (which was actually very rarely) they suffered in panic-fear the knee-jerk knock-out that almost as though by complete accident slammed the head of the beloved creator against the pavement of the dying city.

I have seen this happen on more than one occasion.
; )

biscuit for the doggie - Thursday, July 8th, 2010
So that's what "biscuit for the doggie" means?

holosmons - Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010
Very Good site, thank yo mister, it's help's me!

vemma - Monday, June 21st, 2010
I just book marked your blog on Digg and StumbleUpon.I enjoy reading your commentaries.

funny gal - Thursday, June 17th, 2010
She is not a fishwife exactly.

Is it too difficult to understand that a man who has had little except accolades and approbation should find himself in love with a bitch goddess?

The song "Falling For You" spells that out pretty clearly, doesn't it?

Also, "Dean Don" is a much more intimate portrait of the relationship, but that one isn't posted yet. But the relationship "restores him to something like balance."

She sings:
Dean Don, dingy dingy Dean Don
His is a charming existence
We worship the man
Just as hard as we can
For he´s going to write us a reference
Dean Don, dingy dingy Dean Don
Enjoy your privileges blameless
While I endure the punishing obtuseness
Of life as a cog in your administrative process

Dean Don, Dean Don
My husband´s driving me crazy
Dean Don, dingy dingy Dean Don
There are far too many ways he
Vaunts his way
Flaunts his way
It bores me to the core
But when I put him in his place he
Just gets up and locks the door

Dean Don, Dean Don
What gives his name such power?
It´s his training in practical servitude
From me berating him by the hour

Dean Don, Dean Don
Sir, did you utter a syllable?
An egomaniac,
He needs a good whack!
And my time with him should be billable
For he makes all our plans
And it´s his idea of romance
That I must sharpen my claws on his back
To restore him to something like balance.

As usual, the lyric is somewhat loose to allow the music to play in its own language. When it does, then the lyric will be nailed onto it and it will all seem they fit together, organically -- just like Kate and Don
: )
another marriage made in heaven!

funny guy - Wednesday, June 16th, 2010
As the most privileged son of a noble line, all people sought your succor and no experiences until now foreshadowed the inkling it could be true that such a thing as a fishwife could ever happen to you.

Jerry and Cass - Tuesday, June 15th, 2010
Can't go to Gulfport to bathe sea birds in Dawn liquid, and it's so hateful, like helplessness. We can't stop thinking about it, with the appalling sinking feeling that we are learning what it means to have pure politics standing in for leadership.

The men at the helm can only see through the cloudy lens of the personal.

Jerry, a diver, suggested a system using atmospheres (the effects of compressed air in difference pressures) to enhance current and siphon effects in capture tubes that empty into below sea-level containment. The ideal depth at which the containment vessels/bladders resides should be at least 30 feet below sea level at the shallowest, to take advantage of air's rapid expansion and rising at those depths, which diminishes greatly approaching the surface.

Separating the oil from the water, cleaning and returning it to the sea must be a phase 2 operation conducted at the surface. Here is a quick drawing.

zhaohui - Tuesday, June 15th, 2010
It's no wonder that truth is stranger than fiction. Fiction has to make sense.

Monaco - Tuesday, June 8th, 2010
I usually accept such accolades without posting them, but yours came on a happy day that also saw an offer for continuing development of HARRIER ANGEL that emerged from an exciting reading of the new book, so I wanted the visitor from Monaco to share some level of the lovely sense of gratification as well : )

Big whoop, I know ; ) to see your note published here! So hello! and thank you.

Once in awhile I must let those who write in know that I receive and enjoy all your notes, though they may not appear here.

I liked it that your note originated from Monaco. There happens to be an international film festival in Monaco at this time. In case some of my teachers and colleagues from film school, whose regular visits here I very much enjoy, are lucky enough to be in Monte Carlo, cheers!

It may be that some of those teachers and colleagues thought I would never get around to revising the aforementioned book.

But suddenly it became obvious that time finally caught up to this work. Because it is common for a musical by an unknown to take decades to wend its way through the various stages of development, I tried to write this work in a setting twenty years ahead, in the "near future."

To some this may seem preposterous, yet anyone "of a certain age" can come to the awareness that to a great extent the future often turns out to be a fairly straightforward (thus a simple) extrapolation upon present trends.

In 1989-1995, e.g., which is the period from beginning the writing the work through its world premiere performances, there had as yet been no sex scandal involving the supposedly celebate clergy of the Roman Catholic Church, yet the character Detective Reverend ("D.R." or just DR) Jones appeared then, obsessively in love with the title character -- hooked more inevitably than a fish on a line because he was completely helpless to even want to be free of his attachment.

The music director of the first performances happened to work closely with a local parochial school, and many of his colleagues and acquaintances were priests and nuns, some of whom came to the show.

To my astonishment, these people were greatly amused, moved and delighted by the piece and wanted my autographs on their programs, exclaiming, "You really have something here!"

Doug, the music director, did not let me know in advance that these people would be in the audience -- perhaps to insulate against the possibility they would hate it. I don't believe at that time there had been many, if any, staged works exploring the difficulties of enforced celibacy, and it would not have been unlikely to suppose they might be insulted or otherwise hurt by my depiction of this conflict. When Doug told me a group of priests and nuns, his friends, wished to meet me I was more than a little wary, but one look at their beaming faces let me know they were as delighted as I was at the resounding ovations. I asked them specifically about the Detective Reverend figure, and they told me it was true and accurate depiction and they appreciated it very much.

A few years later the scandals erupted, virtually all of them based on outrage at the pedophiliac/gay component, which by no means comprised the entirety of the abuses. The abuse of minor girls merely received much less publicity, which is somehow to be expected. Needless to say, the failures of religious dogma to over-ride nature's compulsion to sex has been all but ignored in instances relating to adults, but that doesn't mean an artist scanning the horizon for characters to support dramatic action would fail to see it, or use it if necessary. And it was obvious, to those who cared to observe.

The foregoing does not describe the main theme of the HARRIER ANGEL plot. DR Jones and his inability to repress a natural compulsion is a secondary, supporting motif. I bring it up here only because it is an example to illustrate how it was possible to write accurately about the future. I did not "know" this would erupt in an ugly scandal that continues, for more than a decade now, worldwide. But to me it is not surprising that it did. The nine3.com/SacredErotic.html page speaks to the question of whether it could ever be possible to rise above natural appetites through repression. (Follow the link there to "Ancient Primer to Practical Godhead" to learn more about the Tao's understanding of the role of sex in health and spiritual growth.)

A college professor of mine, apologizing for not mounting this show when he had the chance (when he headed the theater department) said, "It could save the democrat party, if only they could SEE it!" Initially he had wanted the work rewritten in two acts, "as an anthem to hurt," which in the 90's struck me as "rather 80's" -- that is to say, already pass�. One of the fundamental concerns I acknowledge as legitimate is to suss the tale in a way that will avoid as far as possible the work becoming dated because of too close a fascination with current cultural clich�s. And so it is more than an anthem to hurt, and it remains in three acts for the simple reason that it is inherently a three-act structure.

Years later, when I told him I had tried to set it twenty years in the future, he said, "Hell, I think you set it SIXTY years in the future." Then 9-11-2001 occurred and everything speeded up. Now its setting is definitely "present day" -- and there are so many other elements from that original 1995 draft that are so "ripped from the headlines" in today's world that it suddenly became clear to me that the time to execute the long-neglected rewrite had arrived.

In the meantime I wrote a couple of other pieces, and have a couple of works in progress, and conducted a reasonably productive professional career in commercial arts. In 2009 the latter disappeared, and shows no signs of impending resurrection owing to the fact that I have not attempted to resurrect it, not one bit. So just as the realization that "futuristic" HARRIER ANGEL had suddenly become current dawned on me, I found myself with ample time to once again address the subject, this time in the light of the present day.

And so, dear visitor in Monaco, if you are one of my former teachers or colleagues who have been following my so-called progress through these pages, or if you are a filmmaker or an acquaintance of a filmmaker at the festival this week, do please convey to your friends and colleagues my assurances that this work continues. Moreover it is as multi-faceted as ever -- indeed, even more multi-faceted and multi-dimensional than ever -- and will one day soon enjoy another "informal" reading, followed by "formal" readings (with music, before an audience) and, with the help of many wonderful advocates and friends, go forward to full production where it may become, if the fates allow, an overnight sensation less than twenty years in the making.

; )

Zdrowie - Tuesday, June 8th, 2010
I just book marked your blog on Digg and StumbleUpon.I enjoy reading your commentaries.

Why do you think they call it pi[e] ? - Wednesday, June 2nd, 2010
Here are a few thoughts for you cloud computing theoreticians to ponder.

There is earlier discussion here about the timeless secrets that are stored in the English language, through the continuous stream of wordplay that conveys multidimensional meaning and clarifies action.

It is greatly due to the poetic values hidden in my native tongue that inspire such thinking on seemingly unrelated topics.

Perhaps it is as the Greek philosopher (I forget which one) said "Perfection consists, in the intellectual order, in the realization of the dream of poetry."

IMO the English names a round dessert after the rounding factor: pie = pi

partly to keep us on the scent of the higher truth with the clue that is the word itself

and

partly to remind us how we cut pie is also the best and way to cut pi

The great assistance we receive through this British cleverness comes in answering this simple question.

"How shall we cut pie?"

I trust everyone can see the answer to this without looking at a drawing
: )
despite the number of pieces we wish to divide it into, it is always to be cut to, from, or through the center.

In our dynamic field of number, we have said the fraction between 3 & 4 (in decimal) or between 2 & 3 (in sexadecimal) that directs rounding is pi, and in some sense it is infinite (expresses infinity) because it is moving and its divisibility cannot come to an end (become finite).

I would like to say we can therefore use this moving curve as a carrier for multiple datastreams.

Remember my dream image of the layers of crazy 8's transferring data up and down, and around and around, and across and around . . . forever?

(NOTE: cf the archive 4 of this forum to see this image)

Perhaps you will recall that this image inspired me to show the various streams that can be conveyed on a split Mobius strip as an example for disc architecture

(NOTE: cf the gif animation images, below)

I think you can see where this is going, yes?

In the meantime, there are many people I would like to thank and invite again for the wonderful reading of the new book of HARRIER ANGEL held last Friday night, on the Full Flower Moon of May at Squantum Yacht Club. I continue to revel in memories of the laughter and excitement of hearing it spoken aloud. Eager to learn more from everyone, I must away! but will return to this matter soon.

so be it!
xoxo, y'r l'tl' cristobal

Give In To It - Thursday, May 27th, 2010
I posted a tutorial sample for learning a song from HARRIER ANGEL.

If you would like to try it out and comment, I would be glad to hear your thoughts. It is located at:

nine3.com/GiveInToIt.html

I will probably remove this in a week or so, therefore if you'd like to see what it's about, please visit that page soon.

all staffed up - Wednesday, May 26th, 2010
We've covered all the roles for the reading party Friday. I couldn't be happier. This is pretty easy as theatrical ventures go. We are meeting at the yacht club, so the icing on the cake is the water will be at its finest as the the moon will be full -- the Full Flower Moon of May. God love us, we could feel some crazy magic! a fine beginning to summer.

air jordan - Wednesday, May 26th, 2010
I hope they aren't being hypocritical
Here's hoping these coal/oil/nuclear protesters got to Copenhagen by either walking or by sailboat. I hope their clothing has no artificial components (cotton, wool, flax, silk, leather ONLY). I hope they didn't drink any coffee in styrofoam cups. I hope they avoid all use of plastics, even in their food packaging. I hope their homes are solar heated and their furnishings exclude any man made products. I hope all the food they eat is organic and locally grown and only transported by horse drawn carts or by porters carrying baskets on the top of their heads. If they wear glasses, I would hope the lenses are not polycarbonate and their frames are 100% wire.

Add0nisse - Saturday, May 15th, 2010
Just want to introduce myself. My Name is Mike and I just signed up for this great forum.

Take Care,
Addonisst

Y[our] satire ; ) - Friday, May 14th, 2010
Forget three years. You've got one week.

Satire - Friday, May 14th, 2010
Hey, that could make an amusing play!
I'd say it's a game students play
On the masters who are holding the keys
To their mind manaclees.

Kind of a dungeons and dragons thing.

Give me a year, and if i haven't written it by then,
You can write it ; )
� casz hahaha

Confidential to Sean - Thursday, May 13th, 2010
A friend writes, "As someone with a degree in science, I am baffled by the number of times that scientists have been caught out - and then blamed the sceptics for pointing out the error.

"When it comes to climate change, you have evangelists, deniers (both heavily emotional terms) and agnostics. I'm in the agnostic camp but willing to listen to facts. But why are there so many errors?"

Sean, why use religious terms to describe what you believe to be, properly, a factual, logical and rational arena? This is a no-dogma realm. Don't acquiesce to the language of the dogmatrons -- it serves their argument, not yours. The use of "pseudoskeptic" is interesting -- the apparent corollary of "pseudoscientist" which is what so much of so-called science today really is. Reality isn't "the perception," people. That's a Lacanian deconstruction designed to confuse those who have not been taught logic. There is no reason to buy into it. Skeptics are skeptics, not pseudoskeptics and the existence of pseudoscientists will not change that.

I encourage today's students to look closely at the fat toads seated -- nay, entrenched -- in the halls of power maintaining the status quo, and encourage the young to question when they will have their chance to make a difference. Many of these old fat toads I refer to are what they themselves used to called "fat cats" back in the day: in place by sinecure and tenure undeserved. As long as they continue in rotten, corrupt structures, young people with too much integrity to play those games will be locked out. The student revolution of the 60's has come full circle.

Why not initiate a new branch of science (or socio-science) that bequeaths degrees for theses that take a hard science look-back on some of the plethora of advanced degrees granted during those years when graduate schools exploded with people avoiding the draft, who never were and never will be scientists and who, it turns out, practice dishonest pseudoscience (like the jackals who falsified their data in the the so-called climate change field).

Why shouldn't PhD's be rescinded once in awhile, when a career of twenty-five years or so can be shown to be based in political maneuvering rather than good work? Barring that, shouldn't a few PhD's be awarded (perhaps in science history, which is already littered with the corpses of wrong theories) for offering solid proof of specific cases of malpractice in the field?

stage left, stage right - Tuesday, May 4th, 2010
This reminds me of the fundamental "dyslexia" of theater, where "stage left" and "stage right" refer to the actor's left and right, therefore when the director (or anyone in the audience) says "stage left," for example, they will mean the part of the stage that is to their RIGHT, and vice versa.

A certain level of dyslexia might actually be a helpful when attempting to conceptualize the mirrorings that are part of this "three that are one" idea.

Another way to draw this nine three configuration is by creating two "N" figures, the second being the flip AND the reverse of the other, more like the perceptions in skywriting.

This new drawing reveals a number of interesting symmetries.

HuttitsLotdoK - Tuesday, May 4th, 2010
Good day!

I just wanted to say hi to everyone!

This is my first post here :)

a nine three config on a flat plane - Monday, May 3rd, 2010
Thanks for posting. I appreciate you spreading the word about nine3, sorry I haven't had a spare moment to tender some thoughts into posts for sharing.

One drawing I did manage to finish shows an instance of a nine three configuration that appears very commonly on the desktops of technical designers who must assemble units of design into the arrangements that will result in the correct positioning of elements in the finished piece while making optimum use of materials.

The process is in many ways similar across various industries, but the printing industry present interesting challenges insofar as pages are usually printed on both sides in "signatures" which when folded and trimmed result in the correct order for reading. The only spread that looks like the one the reader encounters is the center spread -- all others appear non-contiguously, and intermittently upside down and backwards, depending on job specs (like size size of stock, number of pages in each signature (always a multiple of four) and so on.

Mistakes are costly indeed, but there are many tricks that can simplify the task -- and this was true even before the existence of software to perform this task, which is in itself perhaps the ultimate trick insofar as designers no longer need to know how to perform this work and are thus absolved of the necessity to command this level of conceptual reasoning which at one time was the fundamental hallmark of the personality and intellect of anyone called a designer.

This animation shows the boundaries within which pages are arranged as spreads -- a left page, a right page, and both together. This is a useful analogy for "the three that is one." Removal of the boundaries leaves three "x" figures that describe the left, right and both together, and it is none other than my very own personal favorite type of a nine three configuration.

lovecalculatorkx - Monday, May 3rd, 2010
I just book marked your blog on Digg and StumbleUpon.I enjoy reading your commentaries.

GO GAMERS! - Sunday, May 2nd, 2010
You guys rock! So cool you are digging nine3. It's key ; ) WHAMMO

WOWFanBoy - Sunday, May 2nd, 2010
Salute,

I'm a fan of online gaming

cheers,

romantic getaway - Wednesday, April 28th, 2010
That sounds nice. Nothing too stressful getting there, though -- like flying commercially. If you have a charter available, I will take a seat going to . . . well, Montreal will be nice quite soon : )

romantic getaway - Wednesday, April 28th, 2010
Napa is good. Let's go there.
Have dinner by candlelight in a cave and . . .

romantic getaway - Tuesday, April 27th, 2010
I suppose I never really know that I need one.

My favorite thoughts of change :
to buy real estate -- another house would be fun. There are such deals out there now. Might want a different one to live in, but keep this one, fix it up and rent it, or maybe even move back here ultimately.

This is a magical house, with special orientations for enabling atunement, conceived by the original builder who obviously read the mysteries and organized this place to conform to high purpose. I have enjoyed living in it tremendously. But the house does need fixing up and I don't want to live in a construction zone.

Of course, once I do get away to a real vacation I love it! and realize how sorely needed it is. Someone else has to make me do it is all.

You have many houses, do you not?
; )

ueptipeu - Tuesday, April 27th, 2010
Hello! aekfaee interesting aekfaee site!

Thohymnimpolo - Monday, April 26th, 2010
Need travel advice?
Its never too late for a romantic getaway..
Napa Valley is my first choice,!

Would like to hear from others

Good day.

your projector - Tuesday, April 20th, 2010
Okay, I see you! So many visitors ponder the secrets of the three that is one. You, Pi-mongers, put me on the list, won't you?

I get the feeling many can see (conceive) various components of the systems and imagination immediately explodes with the possibilities implied by that bit. It hardly seems necessary to move to the next phase the begin to integrate a whole from thus far disparate elements.

Would it help if I were to place the illustrations and animations all in one place where they could easily be contemplated like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle we know must timely (ultimately) fall in place.

It LALLA!

It makes me happy indeed to see you are playing with sexadecimal.

Don't forget to send me copy, especially if you've made a calculator
: )

xoxo,cx

HuttitsLotdoK - Sunday, April 18th, 2010
Greets dudes!

This forum rocks. Nice to be here.

So long

Amanda - Friday, April 16th, 2010
I totally support your point of view! Keep it up that way!

April 15 - Thursday, April 15th, 2010
Very cool, thank you.

Yesterday, when mailing the taxes, we learned our taxes aren't due until May 11 because of regional flooding. Thankfully, this emergency did not affect us, and we're just as happy that tax return is out of the way even though we burned the midnight oil getting it done by the usual deadline.

Good luck, everyone! Here's to a clean slate with the powers that be, including the IRS.

Ken Ludwig's "Leading Ladies," where I am running lights, is snapping together quite amusingly as of last night's reh. FYI it's at the Milton Players, and I'm so glad I've got John Adams (a close neighbor and dear to the hearts to Miltonians) parading around (metaphorically speaking, and even in one case by actual mention) in my pieces, which some new friends are perusing. What a jolly lot of fun!

Come see it if you can, opening tomorrow, May 16, 8:pm curtain at the Milton Women's Club, miltonplayers.org

A bient�t!
cx

Oklahoma - Thursday, April 15th, 2010
I just book marked your blog on Digg and StumbleUpon.I enjoy reading your commentaries.

April 8 - Thursday, April 8th, 2010
Happy birthday, Siddhartha Gautama. This day marks the end of my annual month-long period of foment. I began taking note of April 8 upon a life changing event in high school on this day. A few years later, March 8 attained an even stronger significance with the death of our youngest sister Mary. From then on, March 8-April 8 is a time when I lay ground work for another year's efforts to put the wheels on the track for some aspect of the massive, multidimensional quest to give voice to the joys and struggles entailed by the idea of individual self-realization as the highest purpose of existence: "Be who you are, and ceaselessly move to become all you can be, and you will be growing the soul that can see [conceive] eternity. So Be It!"

This time April 8 finds me playing with a new company, and I have met another person who says the company will use my works. This is not unusual. What would be unusual is if all the pieces were to fall in place this time. Let it be! And if not, let it be through no fault of my own.

Angerbartergy - Sunday, April 4th, 2010
I'm newb at this community and Ive desired to tell hello to you all :)

I have been watching this site for awhile and it seemed as a awesome palce to be a part of.

casz - Sunday, April 4th, 2010
Merci beaucoup.

blogmanelectro - Sunday, April 4th, 2010
J'aime votre forum

casz - Saturday, April 3rd, 2010
Greetings to UK visitors. Warm regards to Sir Andrew : )

clalmequicela - Friday, April 2nd, 2010
Hello People Im New, Iv been browsing around this message board for a few weeks as a guest. I found it useful and it has helped me a lot. I hope to hang around for a while and give something back.

Cheers.

Black Hawk - Wednesday, March 31st, 2010
Thanks, Barry -- so glad you have used the images from my Black Hawk portrait, and delighted to learn more about it.

I believe this was a book plate. In the 1960's-'70's there were numerous stores selling off the old books that were being turned over as old homes and libraries were broken up. N says he thinks he bought it and put it in an old frame he happened to have.

Your Black Hawk page is splendid. I love the gif animation showing the various portraits that were done, and your biographical notes are exciting and enlightening. Thank you very much.

I hope everyone will click the link and experience for themselves this strong expression of American history and national character during the period when Black Hawk was taken.

barry - Tuesday, March 30th, 2010
i wanted to thank you again for your earlier response and especially the upclose images.��the image of black hawk you created was particularly striking and i put it on the top of my just completed�blackhawk image page:�

[click the link next to the Black Hawk portrait to visit Barry's Blog. Messages cannot contain urls]

i have taken to dubbing your image the boston unkown black hawk�- i'm of course willing to�amend this to the cambridge ... or other venue ...unknown black hawk.� i talked a little about the image in the blog.� as i said there the reference to philadelphia and 'duval', a lithographer, has a connection to a black hawk artist named james otto lewis.� i suspect he was either the artist of your work or the source of the look that another artist gave the man.�
i wont bore you with my story except to say i'm an 'older'�lawyer for indians and poor people in oklahoma and this little pursuit brings my a real joy and escape from the harsh realities i have to face everyday in my work.� it also has gven me a chance to be as close to traditionally academic as i have been since my college days - which were in fact spent in philadelphia.� i do hope when i'm done to contribute everything i've done to black hawk descendants or his tribe here in oklahoma.
having said all that i hope it is not too intrusive to ask you a bit more about the image.� i couldn't really figure whether you had the image yourself or had discovered it elsewhere and photographed it.� i also wondered/hoped that the harvard story was applicable here.� any more you can tell me would be appreciated.

be well, do good work, and keep in touch.
peace
barry

inataRedRoold - Monday, March 29th, 2010
Hi i am a newb here. Hopefully i mighnt be able to contribute to this site, Just though i would come to say hey!

thanks.

cakelab dot org - Saturday, March 27th, 2010
I tried to find out something about this visitor (cakelab) and found on the web site only the following quote from Rumi. Funny, I quoted Rumi recently, also, on the WhatsNew.html page to help explain a character.

Seems there is a widespread rediscovery of Rumi afoot.

"I have lived on the lip of insanity, wanting to know reasons, knocking on a door. It opens. I've been knocking from the inside."
-- Rumi

Multi-dimensional Mind - Monday, March 22nd, 2010
Interesting. The most advanced of all brain scientists today also describe mind, properly, as being comprised of things like Space (which you are translating as "Place") and Time that are external to the brain.

Dr. Dr. Georg Northoff (University of Ottawa) is among the scientists, physicians and philosophers (and among whom he happens to represent all three) have already codified Space and Time scientifically as components of the brain.

Perhaps it will not be much longer before science and philosophy both realize that indeed Thales was even more accurate in including Necessity among the concrete factors that comprise a brain -- which in turn is but a bud on the branch of the tree of life that is Universal Mind --, an apt metaphor to describe the condition wherein we are all connected, as one.

Thank you for your interest.

Wisteria - Monday, March 22nd, 2010
Today of all days, old mysteries step out out of the shadows and reveal their true meaning:
nine3.com/X0024_HA_Wisteria.html

Bringing these symbols around the round about, back to square one, to square a circle. I place this rare portrait of John Adams today in reference to the warning that is implicit in it, that we must hold sacred the U.S. Constitution and its bedrock which is faith in the genius of the people, and its revolutionary daring which is to codify the inestimable treasure of that genius ("the will of the people") as the true guide and direction of our nation.

The setting of the images on the Wisteria page is the library of John Adams in Quincy, Massachusetts. I had merely to insert this portrait of John Adams on the HARRIER ANGEL Wisteria page, and suddenly could see with my own eyes what has always lain hidden in the meaning of these images.

Now indeed we can see who that executioner is.

I have often wondered whether in my lifetime I would see this nation and its people face the reality of dangerous times, in the same sense as our forbears understood dangerous times. Through many wars and their horrors, and the costs in blood of the martyrs who fought and died to secure human freedom through government by the will of the people, we have never seen the like of the dangers we face today.

This morning I awoke to the morning after the shredding of the Constitution not by foreigners but by the hands of our own congress and administration, by our own duly elected officials whose descent into group insanity over the past fifteen months now establishes the precedents for rule not by the will of the people but by the will of the state. Appropriately, this dark deed occurred in the dead of night after living a hell of mind forged manacles, blackmail, bribery, corruption of the lowest degrees, and the descent into confusion and deafening clamor of so-called reason gone astray.

Hence we see how the intellect, which arrogance leads some to believe is the mind, is really the merely the weakest link in the CHAIN OF BEING that is Mind.

As Thales noted about a half a millennium B.C., INTELLECT is merely the swiftest part if the mind ("for it runs through all things").

To refresh your memory, and for those who have never realized it before, the ancients were possessed of a multidimensional understanding that described other dimensions of mind, including PLACE ("the greatest part, for it contains all things") and NECESSITY ("the strongest part, for it rules everything") and also TIME ("the wisest part, for it finds out everything").

See also:
nine3.com/productions/chain.html

bangbroserbb - Tuesday, March 16th, 2010
Very Interesting Information! Thank You For Thi Post!

Jernisynele - Tuesday, March 9th, 2010
Hi i am a newbie here. Hopefully i will be able to contribute to this site, Just though id say hello!

thanks.

xto - Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010
True.

Alexei - Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010
Good to see you running with this. Of course we both know much of the kind of thinking that brings this through you learned by being with me.
; )

did u solve pi - Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010
I think you did

Reenseshadway - Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010
Hey, Neat Site i should be able to help on here.
Cheers.

Bestfriendch - Sunday, February 28th, 2010
Hi,
just come across your site and thought i'd say hello.
Nice website and i'll be keeping my eye on it :-)

Maddin Swiss

msmarystrikens - Saturday, February 27th, 2010
Hello! I really liked your forum, especially this section. I just signed up and immediately decided to introduce myself, if I'm wrong section, ask the moderators to move the topic to the right place, hopefully it will take me well... My name is Mary, me 29 years, humourist and serious woman in one person. I apologize for my English

Bees - Saturday, February 27th, 2010
My brother when he was just a kid was drawn to the beehives kept by Uncle Red (who was also my godfather). Red was a creative powerhouse accomplished in many hobbies and interests fascinating to children, like mechanical engineering (he built a train big enough to ride), and many other things including beekeeping.

I was the third child of seven, but I think there (must have been only five of us -- Frankie and three girls -- when Frankie got a jar and stole a queen bee from one of Uncle Red's hives. We were visiting Uncle Red and Aunt Louise in Sunnyside, a town hundred or so miles or so from Pendleton where we lived.

I remember we were all vaguely aware that he had a bee in a jar, but I don't think he told us it was a queen.

All along the ride home, there was a bee sticking to the outside of the window of the car. We would shoo it away, and it would return, sometimes with one or two friends, to cling to the windshield, or a rearview mirror or the window.

We arrived at home and went indoors for a meal, and by the time we opened the door to go out again, there were bees by the hundreds on the threshhold, and we were told to stay inside. By morning, the door hosted a thick carpet of bees -- the entire hive, obviously, had made it to the site/side of the queen.

The younger children didn't know that our parents discovered the kidnapping and had telephoned Uncle Red, who arrived with Uncle Fred, very soon that morning.

Within an hour or so, the queen was returned to the hive that had travelled in the back of the truck, and the fearful buzzing cloud of bees evaporated as the truck drove away. As I remember the incident, no one at all received a bee sting.

I was reminded of this when I read one of the silly so-called science articles that appear with some regularity in NYT online -- in the "cute science" column comprised often of the inventive conceits of young journalists who think it charming to treat readers to the adorable flights of creativity and inventiveness they can demonstrate on the way to getting the impressive byline.

In this particular case, the young lady journalist asserted that bees have no need to be able to differentiate between human individuals, but amazingly and uselessly they are very good at it. She wondered why nature would provide an ability that has no purpose.

Even my brother Frankie at the age of about seven or 8 years knew very well that a hive of bees can be very tame under the right circumstances, and they readily learn to accept and trust the beekeeper.

If you think about this for a moment or two, even if you are rather unused to ever thinking like a scientist, it should be quite obvious why this is so.

Fill in the blank. IF you can, you will have displayed much greater intellectual acuity than the NYT reporter slash columnist with probably far better credentials than you will ever get.

Such flights! What fancy. She is no doubt a highly delightful individual, or perhaps she is just the friend I know who got a job writing a few columns for a year or so, freelance, as a way of being kicked upstairs and getting a great new opportunity after having proven quite wrong in every way in the job she was very agreeably however incompetently serving before being maneuvered out the door. In a very nice way.

Should such people be given freedom of the press? Of course, why not? It is not the responsiblity of anyone to impose editorial standards. Of course, without such standards, a particular journal will predictably disappear into history. As we quite clearly see happening all the time.

Alas, a lack!

Get real, America!�

the three that are one - Saturday, February 27th, 2010
The three that one one, indeed . . . and then there is the fourth.

I get that the pi space between three and four is the PLACE and TIME where rounding occurs.

With the other elements of MIND, which are NECESSITY and INTELLECT, this is a balanced system. Because you, mankind of the living flame, are the one who will draw each instance of this demarcation (ie., where the rounding occurs, at what level of refinement along the algorithm for infinity, which is pi). This deed is enacted by INTELLECT in response to the pressure of NECESSITY.

Thank you for installing a sense of multidimensional mentality (which extends infinitley far beyond my own brain) in my brain.

"It LALLA! It looks a lot like art!"�

love and kisses,xoxo,
xto

Alexei - Saturday, February 27th, 2010
Go ahead, soul -- SPEAK!

alenlyevencic - Saturday, February 27th, 2010
Hi,

I am new here..First post to just say hi to all community.

Thanks

An open letter to David Reilly - Saturday, February 13th, 2010
In the past you have refused political comment in this forum, but things are getting tense and I think it may be time to try again.

Columnist David Reilly posted a well-intentioned but shallow and misguided plea to Mr. Obama to "Man Up or Risk a Palin Presidency" and I must comment.

I'm a plebe in Boston, so am deeply familiar with, and from the beginning was not fooled by, the Up From Harvard snotty schenanigans of Barak Obama and the over-indulged class of dishonest bankruptcies we now laughingly refer to as his cabinet and administration.

I was glad to read much of Reilly's column, and heartily concur with the need to broom the White House (if at all possible, from the top down). However I must say I believe you do a disservice to the nation in placing Palin's name as heir apparent. I do appreciate, even adore, Sarah Palin. Originally from the Pacific Northwest, I know many women of that regional personality and by some accounts am one of them myself. Some of these are great administrators, instinctive politicians, and generally multi-talented get-it-done gals. I believe Palin is one of these, and have no doubt she would be a far more effective chief executive than Obama. Arguably, however, almost anyone would be.

We should certainly try to do a great deal better than this, which I am sure you know.

It is far too early to annoint Palin as the opposition's contender, especially when there are multiple extremely well-qualified and well-funded possibilities in the wings — Romney, Bloomberg, Guliani, to name only the most obvious examples. Palin in many ways shares the "uncarved block" features of the not yet elected, but also perennially campaigning, Obama. We have already seen a bit of the heavy hand from her. And she certainly lacked finesse in handling the groping of a male head of state who had requested an embrace -- remember that? I still cringe at the memory of it, and at the lack of worldliness and sophistication she exhibited by falling into that lamentable position. At her current level, she would be no less a laughingstock than Obama himself. In short, disaster upon disaster. Only time and greater experience will tell whether she has what it takes to improve in statesmanship.

Please do not forget that a ridiculously posturing so-called free press are what elected Obama. By giving him a pass, as he has ever been given a pass all along his ascent, no one was served -- not even him. This is a man so undistinguished, undisciplined and inexperienced that I do believe it possible he did not know that he did not know there could be anything more to being President of the United States of America than there is to community organizing in Chicago. That is the sad state of a fool, but more fools are we in choosing him as our President.

It's running to the same ruin now to mention Palin's name in the context of an heir apparent. Does anyone really want another untested media personality rising to office -- this time, perhaps, owing to the "perception" that we will be certain to need to choose a female, having dispensed with our need to have a black in the American presidency?

It's the job of journalists and commentators to vet the candidates. If they do not, who will?

One of the job requirements for the kind of press that deserves the freedom it exercises in our country is skepticism, a quality completely lacking in the breathless-for-celebrity fawning sycophants in practice today.

The charisma that is so eagerly fanned to irresistible flaming passion (like that we continue to see even at this late date in Chris Matthews and other partisan journalists-pretenders) is no guarantor of virtue in a leader. Charisma was over-rated even in John F. Kennedy, whose popularity was foundering and his potential for re-election seriously in question at the time of his death, as many recall. Moreover, the people understood his shortcomings at once, and proceeded to elect two highly uncharismatic men -- first Johnson and then Nixon -- a rejection of everything charisma had bought us.

Reilly, do your job, won't you please? 'preciate it!

- Friday, February 12th, 2010
Friends are putting up pictures of their Valentines, and someone asked me about mine.

I told her "Jerry" or "Naro" is Gennaro, whom I met at the Ha'Penny (bar) in Cambridge on Midsummer Night in 1984. Recently divorced, I had gone out looking for a man I knew who I thought would be there, intending to invite him to a dinner party as a way of circumventing the efforts of my neighbor to find me a boyfriend. I forget the name of the guy I went in looking for. He wasn't there, but Jerry was.

He was sitting opposite me, on the other side of the bar. For I moment I thought I'd seen him before, but couldn't exactly remember. In my tummy butterflies fluttered, a subtle sensation I had never experienced but that was nevertheless absolutely noticeable and unmistakeable. I think I may have actually spoken out loud, "I've never felt anything like THAT before!" I did say, "Hi." Within a split second he materialized by my side.

As I explained my dilemma somehow I couldn't quite bring myself to the point of the story, and then he said, "Are you trying to invite me to dinner?"

He came for barbecue, and the rest is history. We were together for 7 years before marrying in 1991.

A friend also commented on the strong line of my jaw and powerful-looking neck -- for which I can only explain that It came of singing, which is excellent exercise for all the minute muscles of the skull, face and throat. As a child, did you ever sing a song that asked, "Do your ears hang low? Do they wobble to and fro? Can you tie them in a knot? Can you tie them in a bow?"

And did you ever read DH Lawrence's description of the aging beauty whose son observed how in the very moment attention was turning upon her, her facial and neck muscles would draw taught, transforming her from a woman in the background to the stunning presence everyone adored?

Well, in my opinion, if her hair had been up this son may also have noticed his mother's ears going back.

Yes, indeed, the ears do wiggle, and quite a lot if you care to work at it. In fact I believe you should practice this as much as possible. It is one result of proper singing lessons. I say "proper" because in my experience there are a great many bad singing teachers who know the least possible about the physiology of the vocal instrument. Beware, if you do not begin to see improvements right away, the methods are false.

Kind of like economics, eh!

Anyway, the exercises and postures of singing lessons result in many other benefits as well, and I can imagine little that is more pleasurable and rewarding.

IllupComo - Friday, February 12th, 2010
Hi all,

my friend told me about this forum so i decided to sign up.

hopefully i can participate in some lively discussions here!

looking forward to talking to you all. :)

superbowl - Tuesday, February 9th, 2010
What's so simple about that?

miller bennett - Monday, February 8th, 2010
Nice work! Why cant we just keep it simple and talk about the superbowl?

mens sandals - Saturday, February 6th, 2010
Nice work! I can't get Welcome to the Jungle out of my head! ''Welcome to The Jungle, We've Got Fun And Games"

Smash Stasis - Thursday, February 4th, 2010
"I have destroyed sameness for thee!"
xo, xto

IBM in Vilnius - Thursday, February 4th, 2010
Okay, you guys. I see ya! Now get to work! Wrap your heads around this, kids! The 'rents don't get this as well as you do! Don't let the big corporation grab the glory. You can write that paper.

binary baby - Thursday, February 4th, 2010
We really are binary, too. Along with everything else. I see how now. Thanks. OMG, there's hope. We can jump to the nex level.

Cambridge - Thursday, February 4th, 2010
Need a thesis? I'm looking for mine subject, too.

get over to the E2E engineers forum. There are multicasts of this site all over the place. So cool. Also check out the musicals. So Cal ips have been multicasting those as well.

cheers! from Boston to Cambridge

casz - Thursday, January 28th, 2010
I've been looking at it for awhile now, and think I am proposing that it is so.

This particular branch of my "concept.html" inquiry into the nature of the Great Undivided One ( a lifelong amusement of mine : ) . . .

started just last week, with questioning what the ancient Greeks understood to be the functioning of this figure described by them as EPIKUKLOS.

I have long been looking for the traces of this. There exist virtually no first-hand sources of early Greek geometry. How did the Greeks use astronomy to understand the stars? For the ancient Greek mathematicians, geometry was the crown jewel of their sciences, reaching a completeness sufficient to solve problems, leading to many fruitful discoveries throughout history, even for 21st Century mankind.

(the emphasis in the paragraph above is there because it is composed of ideas snipped from the first page of a simple google for "Greek geometry" -- check it out! it's amazing!)

Anyway, as always . . .
here is my disclaimer. I am but a humble poet:

I fear I must take the role of Plato, and merely challenge mathematicians and astronomers to prove it! These ideas occur to me through philosophical and visual inquiry alone : )

Thanks for your understanding!

The symmetries are quite interesting, I suppose.

If you had an action that flipped the symmetries back and forth . . ., the action could describe one hand washing the other, or ??

perhaps the track has a split in it like the mobius strip animations below.

I could see this theoretically being a key to the projection device described as the pearl that even if shattered still retains every component of the whole via interpolation/extrapolation.

Sexadecimal gives you such a simple way of looking at and comprehending huge numbers --, it's a very convenient way to be able to comprehend equations at exponentially altered scales because VISUAL symmetries correspond directly with relationships even in extremely enormous numbers. And they have axes. How nice.

genius - Thursday, January 28th, 2010
It LALLA!! quite obviously it is!! how did you find it???

cristo - Thursday, January 28th, 2010
Do you think this 3-cusp EPIKUKLOS (epicycloid) could be the grid for your scaleable system?

welcome - Saturday, January 23rd, 2010
Hi! so glad you checked in.

I hope you will come back often, and let us know your thoughts, if any ; )

All correspondence is welcome but may or may not appear as I see fits the tone and moment (ding!)

IFF you come in like chimes

and speaking of chimes . . .
i recently discovered a great new set I already own and did not know. It is the long-handled stainless steel cooking set that hangs on a matching rack: spoon, slotted spoon, ladle, spatula, strainer and fork. Delightful! These make a very amusing set piece in the new scene I am writing for the opening of the second act. Angeline and the wiccans are singing and playing; Naomi and DR a argue; and prospective members queue up to be tested in their preparedness to enact sacred rituals -- highly ranked among which are the culinary arts! "And he played upon a ladle, a ladle, a ladle . . ." !!

Hello, Sherman! I'm sorry. I love you. Please forgive me. Thank you.

What else is new?

Ah, yes -- they are having pet week (following on way back week) for for the profile pictures of the friends. Must send them the picture of Cosmo and Gray Lee Bibs, who plays the chimes with ferocity and genius!

xo, cx

resellerhosting - Thursday, January 21st, 2010
I have visited your website so many times but only just noticed you have a guestbook!

Essexcamlion - Tuesday, January 19th, 2010
Great Website,
i come here via Google cause i was looking for this.
Very interesting. I will come back soon.

Thanks for the great site

Camlion

Pharmd907 - Thursday, January 14th, 2010
Very nice site!

orlandobloomisit - Tuesday, January 12th, 2010
This is really interesting. I am glad I found this place. I guess it is true we really do learn something new everyday!

blancobb - Tuesday, January 12th, 2010
This is very interesting information here. I wish I had found this first before I signed up for the other one. This is much better

brautkleidtussi - Tuesday, January 12th, 2010
Hi my name is Silke,

i just want to say that i love your site.
Please go on like this.

I will be back soon.

Silke

brautkleiderIvy - Saturday, January 9th, 2010
Hello from Zuerich,
i just want to say that i like your website very much.
I will come back soon.

Yours Ivy

the green knight - Wednesday, January 6th, 2010
It is said the crusaders took comfrey (aka "knit bone") with'em wher'ere they'd go. When reading Chaucer in school, we discussed the meaning of The Green Knight's name. As Chaucer gives no explanation, this remains open for speculation.

I decided to believe he was called The Green Knight because he kept his armor stuffed with comfrey. I could see him carrying it all, from packages of the dried parts to wilted and fresh leaves and roots and some entire plants, as well. It cushioned him from the iron suit, and was a great blessing in many other ways.

Did you know the plant will proliferate from little more than a node, bit of root, or just a few threads of the rhizome? It is a truly wonderful plant.

The green knight, and quite a few of his brothers in arms, carried comfrey because it helped keep keep the body going, healing rapidly, putting on more muscle and bone all the time through hardest of all the travails. Staying in some places for months or even years at a time encamped with the army, the green knight would propagate the plant locally so all could use it as needed. Since it grows so quickly, it can produce two or more -- often three or four -- crops per year. Thus it was a ready source for stalwart flesh and bone.

Needless to say, he was quite literally green from head to foot.

: )

What do you think of this idea?

johnnylawisit - Wednesday, January 6th, 2010
So I think that there is good information here. Thanks for the contribution!

Naomi - Tuesday, January 5th, 2010
A friend writes that he enjoys eating comfrey. This may be a very bad idea, I hasten to inform :

While this plant shows