Month: September 2012

The war on vegans continues

Holy flaming balls of purulence.  I inherited John Caspell’s entire library of anarchist works – if I lived in the US I’d be subject to a Grand Jury indictment just because I lived close to some government building that was vandalized.  Here’s the link.  Or should I not be worried because I am not young?

The calming effect of action

A few days ago I was all triggery and overwhelmy about my sad state as a buttbrain who had helium hands and volunteered for something she oughtnotta.

Today I am not.  That is because when I get together with Sue (usually there is FOOD and CAT and PLOTTING) we have this dreadful bias toward action.  We have now set up a new way for members to donate which will make life easier for everybody.  This is with respect to regular donations AND estate planning.  And we need to have the conversation about estate planning.

It will be a little more complex from a bookkeeping point of view, but that’s why we hired a bookkeeper.

And now, fresh coffee.  I feel better.  I have a day of running around and visiting friends and sushi in front of me.

 

hey mOm

thank you mOm

You know, my mOm raised me to not really give a shit about cosmetics.  She quit wearing her one concession to patriarchal culture, lipstick, the instant she retired.  Over the course of my life I’ve probably saved fifty grand not buying them. I have powder, probably time-expired, and one jar of nail polish, in my bathroom.  I think Katie cleaned out anything else I had lying around.  I do concede that my face looks better if I prevent my eyebrows from meeting in the middle, and I do pluck the darker hairs off my chin and chest because even though I’ll never get mistaken for a man I would prefer to present as a woman.

I don’t care who consumes cosmetics, but I am upset and disgusted by people smearing fishscales and metal oxides on their faces without understanding the long term health consequences.  Makeup, unless it’s part of what you do for a living (rock star, sex trade worker, actor, television personality, model, emo kid) is a waste of money.  It doesn’t get wonderful just because a group of men decide to spend money on it.

New verse for someone else’s song

See, the great thing about filk is that other people get their hands on your stuff and add to it.  Sometimes they add to it by being MUCH BETTER GUITARISTS than you and sometimes by polishing the lyrics, and sometimes by singing it better, and sometimes by playing it on a completely different instrument, in a different key, with a different harmony arrangment.

Sometimes it’s worse in virtually every way, but it doesn’t matter because it’s still your song being sung and there are people enjoying it even if it isn’t perfect.  Especially since it isn’t perfect.  There’s nothing wrong with it. We are fulfilling our birthright as singing primates, it’s what we DO, and we don’t get to do enough of it because of the ever escalating pressure of commercial culture and the drive for perfection.

So if I actually MEMORIZE one of Lady Miss Banjola’s tunes, and then, having sung it numbers of times, decide to add a verse, not only am I within my rights, I know without asking that she’d say, fill your boots, and don’t claim to have written any note or word of that which is mine.  Every song I have written, even the most desperately personal, that I scarcely ever sing in private let alone in public anymore (like three of swords, I never ever sing that song aloud any more), is still open to that kind of creative input.  The thing about a good song is that other people want to, and will continue to want to, sing it.  Sometimes they feel that way about bad songs too, which is good otherwise nobody would ever sing my stuff when I wasn’t in the room.

When you’re a filker, and people start singing your songs when you’re not around, you are still there.  Your presence may be ghostly and insubstantial but you are still in the room.  The brain that shaped the notes and sharpened the jokes and knitted the ideas and the scansion together in a neat and memorable package, that is still in the room.  It’s a wonderful feeling, knowing that it is happening from time to time.

Anyway, I am happy with the verse.  It follows the theme of the song; it covers a situation that fits in with the other verses and doesn’t repeat; the tone of the lyrics is similar.  But… I still think I’ll run it by her before I publish.

 

meliphore and aptitude

…. Meliphore means sweetness bearer so it is an ENDEARMENT.  Have you hugged your meliphore today?

As for aptitude, I must say that I am fortunate that I have by some happy accident surrounded myself with people with a very great aptitude for friendship.  I’d like to thank Paul for lunch, walkies, music and clipping Kira’s claws; I find clipping cat claws restful, which I suppose can only burnish the kneecaps of my reputation.

New-ish song (“Grateful”)

Early in a city morning
there’s a moment that is soft and still
then far off, you can hear a dog bark
farther off a car alarm trill
and the overcast has cleared
and the stars seem near
as childhood recollection
and now I am old
and the stars are far away
and still I feel the same connection

And yes I am so grateful
for the stars so far away
for knowledge is an ocean of stars
… let’s go swimming today, let’s go swimming today

There’s a moment early in a love affair
When you really want to make time stop
and if you’re foolish you hold tightly
and if you’re wise you let it drop
for that love will still be there
throughout all of time
by the standard that I use to measure
I do not rifle through the past for love
for it is an eternal treasure

And yes I am so grateful
for the love along my way
for love is an ocean of stars
… let’s go swimming today, let’s go swimming today

There’s a moment early in a project
when you think you’ve gone completely mad
the best you have is mediocre
and the rest of it is really bad
So you step out for some air
and try not to care
How you got stuck in this rutted canyon
And the stars, serene, as ever they have been
will be the staunchest of companions

And yes I am so grateful
for the work that’s come my way
for work is an ocean of stars
… let’s go swimming today, let’s go swimming today

 

Oh for the love of Pete

My investment counselor sent me something today “Here’s two economic indicators showing it’s time to buy!”  Bogus indicators.  Here’s what I wrote back.

 

I’m not convinced.  The markets in China and Brazil have fallen off, there are signs of an ugly power struggle coming to light in China, the euro-zone crisis is nowhere close to being resolved, and we’re close to historic highs for food prices in a large number of flashpoint countries including large chunks of the Arab world, already experiencing a lot of turbulence.  Traditionally when the food price index bumps above 215 you may have food riots, and above 240 you’re pretty much guaranteed of food riots.  All of this will bring a steady feed of turmoil to the markets so that every bump up on good economic news out of the States will be levelled off by bad news somewhere else as the markets are looking for excuses to be timid, not brave.

Our government is getting into a pissing match with Iran as a proxy to the US, and that is going to direct state sponsored terrorism to Canada within the next couple of years.

Unless Global Security has some investments for me in retirement homes, food coops and hacker spaces, I’m going to sit it out. I may also buy land, but I haven’t figured out where.

Oddiculosis

I am full of weirdness.  Just found out from LTGW that he used the Thousand Sided Dice to come up with his twitter name!  He was thrilled with it… I’m just glad it’s Substantially Complete.

Paul’s Birthday celebration is tomorrow.  I took the liberty of inviting half a dozen people to it… also, I’m thawing salmon, always a good idea for a bbq.  Sadly, all the cherry wood charcoal is gone, so we’ll have to suffer without it.

I am having to deal with the stupidity of the UPS store Beacon gets photocopying done at.  I FraCKING HATE BEING TREASURER.  I’m going to run away to Courtenay, see if I don’t.  Actually, Jeff and I very briefly discussed this and whether it really happens will be in the lap of the gods.

Okay, back to contending with busy people who don’t keep good records.

And while I’m dreaming, fetch me some lobster

I have a dream. I want to create “The On Call Brass Band” which can be flashmobbed to show up and play one of several tunes.  eg When the Saints, O Canada, The Pompous Ass March, Liberty Bell, Un Canadien Errant, Deutschland Uber Alles, I Will Survive, and Electric Avenue.  That way no matter what event they show up at, they’ll have something appropriate to play.  What, no Freebird?  (Full Disclosure, the PAM is my composition, very sprightly and cheery and nobody hearing it would realize it’s a poke in the eye).