Category: Filk

Lemming’s Twofer and News of the Sun

Why the hell is the surface of the sun hotter than the interior?  It’s a theory.

Step up folks you know you can’t go wrong
Got a back catalog about five miles long
if he gets bored he’ll write another song
step up step up Lemming’s twofer
A fas cinating miscellany of
all the subjects that he really hates and loves
And I’ll stand with him when push comes to shove
comes to his opinions I’ll be his minion

Step up folks and do not be perplexed
If you can’t guess which instrument he’s playing next
turn off the phone, he hates it when you text
step up step up Lemming’s twofer
Step up folks and get some bile on wry
While the gun-totin’ smokers get it in the eye
If he was wine, he would be very dry
step up step up Lemming’s twofer
Idio syncratic entertainment
delivered in eyepopping Hawaiian raiment
devoid of refinement or containment
Step up step up Lemming’s twofer
Brain abraded with a loofa
Step up step up Lemming’s twofer
Filker parodist and spoofer
Step up step up Lemming’s twofer now!

Lemming’s Twofer update

I have fired off an email to Lem asking him to review the lyrics, as although I don’t think he’ll take offence I suresheck don’t wan’t to give it.  Once I know he’s okay with them I’ll post them, because I worked hard on them (over seared scallops and tomato boccancini salad yesterday at Borgo Antico, which is so upscale it doesn’t have a website, and comped me San Pellegrino when they didn’t have near beer. )

 

Lemming’s Twofer and Maid of Tarth

Yesterday (still drenched in music from the housefilk) I wrote THREE SEPARATE melodies one right after the other, in the space of 17 minutes (I fired up the movie camera in the computer and just noodled so I have proof this happned).  I used to sit at my desk at work crying on the inside because all I wanted to do was sit in a corner with an instrument and work out a tune and a chorus and now I CAN WRITE ANYTIME I WANT.  It’s intoxicating.  I should be working on biscotti. And I will. but for NOW…

Anyway, Blind Lemming Chiffon is a Denver filker and musician of protean talent (the guy with the ukeleles) who inspired the following.

Lemming’s Twofer Midi

Lemming’s Twofer PDF

Yes, it almost sounds like the beginning of the chestnut “Dixie” but it goes to a much different place.  No lyrics, but I can totally hear Lem singing this (transposed to the correct key, natch) about the insanity of the current American election year cycle. Twofers, for those who don’t know filk, are a standard way of getting folks up on stage to practice stagecraft or just share; you sign up to sing two songs at the beginning of the con, and it’s a great way to see new talent and old.

Also, Maid of Tarth.  Lyrics when I’m done.  I’m six verses in and the son of a seacook’s nowhere near done, it’s going to be one of those darned EPIC filks with a hundred verses mit chorus and bridge.  This is just the verses, I haven’t notated the chorus and bridge yet.

Maid of Tarth Midi

The other two songs are going to be something contemporary and another GoT song, I just haven’t figured out the donkey to pin the tail on yet.

a little bit of ever’ting

It was a solstice party (1 pagan in attendance, check), a housefilk (whenever two or more of you are gathered together in the name of the typo, amen), a hootenanny (small children running around and massacring harmonicas and tambourines while Tapioca is cooked), a religious/cultural interpersonal therapy session as we sang the hums of our people (Falling Free, Frobisher Bay among others), an impromptu poly gathering (6 people in attendance openly poly, plus lurkers), a-a-a-and a shameless attempt on my part to get everybody to compliment me on my sheer good sense for buying Otto.  Who is a boy, Katie K confirmed it.  She also arrived with a housemate in tow and La Merveilleuse Tillie‘s fraking awesome rosemary infused vodka/vermouth libation, which despite the no drinking rule I tasted cause I had to.  And I ain’t sad to.  I’m glad to.  Still a taste left, if ScaryClown comes over tomorrow I’ll feed him some.  Stayed away from the beer, but Mike left 3 in the fridge, so at least I haz some to offer guests. Day before yesterday I made biscotti, and then shared them out liberally at the party, sending some home with the LET’S SING SONGS ABOUT DEATH (literally her first words when she unpacked the bass) Peggy  and the ever useful and opinionated Tom. Also dispensed biscotti to Mike, who sang The Weight (ah, the piercing harmonies!) and Tomorrow Wendy,  and to Rozo, who spectated with that sleepy and mischievous smile I’ve gotten so fond of.  The glorious and unabridgedly awesome Cindy added that special soupçon of harmonious madness without which no housefilk can be characterized as ‘good’.  Or is housefilk like sex and pizza?  ah, erm.  Anyway, we sang zombie songs (dead people), Frobisher Bay (freezing to death), Tomorrow Wendy (which has lots of death in it), Dead Flowers (roses on your grave), and really really kept the theme of somgs about death on track more or less by accident.  Paul sang Last Page and Cindy sang Runtime Error, Type Mismatch so Lady Miss B was there toooooo. Although regrettably not in person, possibly because I neglected to invite her?  Duh.

I cleaned my house and wrote a song yesterday, and people came over and we laughed and chatted and sang and played.  Success!  My brother has been feeling meh but not enough to crimp fun (he slept in the guest room, but Eddie the wonderkitty kept him company).

Due to overwhelming popular demand (two facebutt friends), I will be setting words to my new song, which is the third I’ve written in the Game of Thrones universe.  My Needle and I, and Funeral March of Lord Tywin (instrumental) were the first two.  This one is called The Maid of Tarth.  Oh Otto, you are demanding instrument, but I will rise to the challenge.  And now I realize that it’s 4 GoT songs, I forgot about Sam the Slayer.  When I get into a Universe I seriously fracking commit.

Now…. how do I keep my house clean enough so I actually throw housefilks more than twice a year? I mean apart from a chartreuse flamethrower and a tank of oxygen….

Sunday sundae

Taught myself a dodge for the Em chord so I can now play Uplift, which blew Paul away when I played it for him.  Also taught myself (not that it was hard) the Sublime version of By the Rivers of Babylon.  In the morning, going to pick up Carol for church (her family no longer has access to a car), being publicly humiliated in church and shrugging it off, breaking down in tears lighting a candle for Voyager which is currently on the edge of the heliopause.  Then the new minister’s sermon, which totally included the kids in a useful and intelligent way (wow, for that!!) Then the father’s day picnic, which took place indoors and I’m just as happy about that because I brought no chairs.  Then I remembered to grab something so it isn’t left in the church over the summer.  Then Paul volunteered to drive Carol home and Kathleen volunteered to close (Sue opened) and THAT’S IT FOR THE SUMMER.  Woot.  Then made some food and allowed Paul to bbq some salmon, which was just about perfect, and then met Katie’s beau. I had seen a pic but in person he is strikingly handsome (also unstupid, manners, you know the little things – and brave like hell for facing down our collection of wackos all in one go).  Enough said about all that; let’s just say that he proved to be very food positive and has a large capacity to eat salmon. Then called D. to ask about commercial kitchens – I’ll be setting up a meet with somebody this week.

Now to boring matters like my to do list.  Vacation’s over…..

Feeling better

Hung out with the beauteous Katie last night, and helped get more of her stuff outta my house and into hers. 

Ziva is running so well I’m wondering when the other shoe’s gonna drop.

Sun!  Sun! Sun!  It’s a pleasant change.

Paul was going to take me to lunch yesterday and then realized he’d double booked himself.  I hope we get together soon, I just figured out how to play “It takes a lot to laugh it takes a train to cry” on Otto.  This mandolin sounds so fucking good I get shivers every time I play it.  I practiced “My Needle and I” as well as the foregoing.  Morning music exercises are good fer brainz.

My Needle and I

I’ve but one summer, I’ve more than one name
I can’t abide courts with their whispering games
My mind is ice and my heart is a flame
Loyalty kills you more swiftly than shame

Gods hear my cry
Traitors must die
Stone, steel and sky
We claim this vengeance, my Needle and I
We claim this vengeance, my Needle and I

Winterfell’s safety is now but a dream
Trapped among enemies, not what I seem
If they discover me they’ll have my head
Hatred befriend me and drive away dread

Gods hear my cry
Traitors must die
Snow, steel and sky
We claim this vengeance, my Needle and I
We claim this vengeance, my Needle and I

Winter is coming, I hear Father’s voice
Life is an accident, honour a choice
Jon gave me Needle and left for the Wall
Nymeria’s gone, I have no one at all

Gods hear my cry
Traitors must die
Stone, steel and sky
We claim this vengeance, my Needle and I
We claim this vengeance, my Needle and I

The Sellsword – GoT filk (audio cue: 50’s style Sinatra tune)

A little rough around the edges… oh yes, that’s him

Filthy from sleeping in ditches and hedges…. oh yes, that’s him

But you’re going to want him when your outlook’s getting grim

He may be a common sellsword

But he’s all you can af-ford

And you want a surly horde … that’s just like him.

 

I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER WHAT COMES INTO MY HEAD WHEN I’M DRIVING.

From pooped to peppy and back again

I just ran out of gas at around 12:30 last night, which was unfun, but today I got to hang around in the consuite and saw DJD for four whole hours, which was really really awesome.  He’s about the same as always, and Sandra hung around as long as she could before she went off to see her mom.

 

I printed out the boarding pass and got the schedule for the shuttle.  I’ll be checking out about 8 tomorrow with any luck.

I bought another musical instrument.  Yes, I am very, very insane.  It will be coming to me at a later date as without a hard case there was no effin way I was bringing it home on scare canada.

Now for the Dead Penguin – the last filk of the con!

Yay!

First person we ran into was Catherine, and then Shirley, and then Phil, and then, and then, and it’s been so lovely.  Chipper is saying “So many redheads…. ” which is making me laugh, because, yes, fandom DOES have a disproportionate number of redheads, both DNA and bottle varieties.

Breakfast was oatmeal in a crockpot (courtesy of Catherine, who’s volunteering for the con) and delicious coffee in the consuite.  We talked about house construction (good and bad), earthquakes, how screwed up the building code is in Chicago, what NOT to do in disaster situations (and there was much amusement) and in general everything has been either amusing or très mellow. Fans are just the most awesome people.  I’m not saying Chipper is being blown away at how welcoming they are, but I suspect she’s pleasantly surprised.

Today Tamalicious is coming to the hotel (right after Kathy Mar‘s concert) and we’ll catch up and tomorrow I get to see DJD for the first time since, uh, that would be the last time I went to Toronto.  If that’s five years ago, and apparently so, then shame on me.

I want to give the entire universe a hug, but I think it would take too long.