Not Bored in New York

About San Francisco, and the boy killed by a tiger:

A good friend of mine, his father was once electrocuted while working for FPL. He was up on an electrical pole. He is still alive, so obviously he is tough. He used to say, to my friend his son, “Don’t poke the bear with the stick.” Now, I don’t know for sure whether that boy in San Francisco was taunting the tiger, but if he was he certainly got what was coming to him. As much as we may like to think that we are, “safe”, and “at the top”, this is only true in places where we manage to maintain it. It’s nice to see a breakdown.

A short poem on the topic that begins with the outrageous quote of a politician who is probably not a good leader:

“Live animal attacks won’t be tolerated in San Francisco… It’s simply unacceptable.”

Of course they won’t, because in San Francisco you eat Pork,
and when it attacks you it does so by being undercooked, and thus dead.
The world is watching Northern California,
but Ginsberg, and Thompson they are a ghost.
What will you do now? Make a martyr of a privileged deviant?
Pin a medal on an officer, or lay a rug by some fool’s fireplace?

“This is Proof!
Let this rug be an example to you foxes,
you coyotes, you wildebeasts,
you hippos, you monitors,
you hippies, and you bimmies!
Humans in California will not tolerate murder at the claws of live beasts!”

Perhaps this was the most noble end Tatiana could manage;
defending her patch of destitution from young Americans,
their lack of discretion so high in their skulls that it
blotted out their pupils’ abilities to affect consciousness.
Instead of suggesting to the cognition within their fragile heads
to treat such an animal with caution they–phenomenologically impaired–
see only the captured,
and as Mr. Holland says,
“Those on the other side,
we crush them mercilessly.”
Perhaps, and I think that this is sadly often the case,
those on the other side,
they’re there so that we might piss upon them mercilessly.

Props to one of the oldest terrorist threats.

, And reminded

Panda Bear’s album Person Pitch reminds me of Holger Czukay’s Canaxis. Drastically so. Epistemologically–in the sens of music’s performance–kindled perhaps.

Briefly before I go work:

1.) I’m in South Florida and loving the weather, sunsets, wildlife, and atmoshpere to the max.

2.) I’m luck to have the friends that I do, such high caliber people in such a high concentration si certainly some type of cosmic anomaly.

3.) These are the books that I am currently reading:

An MIT press book that is an introduction to psychoacoutics

Barry Blesser’s Spaces Speak are You Listening?

Jean Baudrillard’s The Illusion of the End

Jean Baudrillard’s Forget Foucault

I’m reading each book at different rates, but the psychoacoustics book is my primary fcus at the moment. Why does this matter? Well, I think that reading multiple books keeps them interesting. When I get to a point where the information in a book is not particularly entertaining, or relevant that book is read less frequently, and another is read more frequently. As well, the information gleened from a text seems to become serendipitously super-contextualized by the information in books that are being read at the same time.

Best Headphones

Today I used a poopular internet search engine to look at customer reviews for headphones.

On a seemingly unrelated note, the internet was a fortuitous thing today because I came across this:

Oh my!

Never in my life have I heard of something so subversive, dangerous, and amusing.

While I was driving today, and also about other things to do with driving

I grew up in South Florida. Here, it is nearly neccessary to drive when traveling outside of one’s immediate neighborhood. So, growing up here, I spent a lot of my waking hours on highways. Spending long periods of time on the highway is an interesting phenomenon because it gives an interestring perspective on both space and time. Time and space are neither ‘here’ nor ‘now’ because they are spread out in points on the road. A point in time that is ahead of one, is likewise ahead of one in space; it is possible to see the ‘future’ while driving on the highway. Similarly, the past becomes a visible wake, viewed through one’s mirror.

I don’t think that people are getting super poiwers, or that it takes much to get inside of this perspective aside from driving for long stints on highways. Just commenting that it provides a unique tool for understanding being alive on Earth in America.

On a Related Note:

I’ve started planning a new music project. I don’t want to reveal too much, but the premise is dangerous musics. I should be clear that they are dangerous in the fact that they are documents of musics taking place in locations that are unlike traditional musical spaces. It is similar to the danger of eating uncooked food.

Fake Headlines

Digital is the New Analog.

Bootleg vs. Real= Outdated.

Some things on sonics…

This brief essay assumes that silencers are used by murderers.

Silencers for handguns allow a kind of indetectability. If you shoot someone with a handgun near people who can hear you will likely be detected, and likely face legal recourse. using a silencer affords a degree of indetectability by altering the dynamic levels across the frequency spectrum. The sound of a handgun firing spreads across large amounts of space. The sound of a handgun with a silencer firing spreads across small amounts of space. A handgun with a silencer subverts a certain outcome of a sonic event. It presupposes that the sonic event of a handgun firing will lead to the discovery of events that the shooter does not want to be discovered. The use of a silencer then, is the shaping of the shooter’s sonic identity. Like using concealer to cover a pimple the silencer hides something ugly (murder).

Why do I hang out dancing inside of a club until my ear feels like a flea is sleeping in it? One of the few ways in which I allow my desire to have fun to override my desire to maintain a pristine corpus does damage to my ears. Listening is particuarly important to a great deal of my life ventures–playing instruments, mixing, field recordings, et al. Why is my transgression upon myself so vindictive? i go for my own throat. Ruthlessly.