Symbols

Atlantis Review

Mozart (Deadmau5) -- PiRSquared
Deadmau5 composed a classical transition from instrumental violin and harpsichord and later engineered one of the world's great dub-step albums. Song One, entitled "Some Chords," brought sneezes to the nose, however, and was blunted by the lack of comfort available to the ears. Song Two, "Sofi Needs a Ladder," dedicated to St. Sophia, brought in a much higher energy level with pure hypnotic vocals and mind piercing accuracy. Song Three, "A City in Florida," was too terrible to listen to, even for a veteran of the Moldavian chronicles. Song Four, "Bad Select," conjured the best of a live performance DJ show without any of the fuss of having to listen to the entire thing, which is what DJ's are best at. The black vocalist was uncredited, however, and that is simply inexcusable. Song Five, "Animal Rights," featured Wolfgang the Gardener. It was a yawn. I give this album 1 yellowish-brown star, even with the technical music mastery involved. I'm no Sally-ear-ay, but the vinyl sucked.

Shaw Exhibit

The art show at the M Exhibit in the Shaw Building art gallery in downtown Baton Rouge currently houses the area's most acclaimed art and private artifacts, even if ownership can not be attributed. Also currently exhibited are nationally famous sculptures (some painted steel, some presumably jadite [authenticity unverified from my perspective] and one extremely fine wooden telescope), a grievously beautiful pistol, a very small ceremonial sword from Japan, and one of the nicest looking cabinets I've ever seen. The ornate pottery and sculpture displayed at the museum also humbles the simple observer. This post will never be updated with the names of the artists, as my breath was taken away when I neared the information desk to ask for a writing utensil (and I forgot to go back). The names of the artists involved with the more historical pieces were never available, however.

The Clime

Led to believe were they. Some were led to believe that Lie was owed. Sewed with misinformation, those inned against zen listness. Four skulls on the far reaches of the crossed beams faced the inquest, and fourteen, turned in to the four inner corners, conversed, the dead between the dead. Inadequate and shaken, the sure showed the damage dealt the undeserved: A narrow series of cubes and rectangles, screen grated, turned back and forth at right angles in the length of a horizontal climb; all to break bone and grind nerves. Eighteen of the best thought to free a suicidal's victim, yin lured into a steal trap, only to shove unwarranted pain onto the champion of the unvictimized, one who would save another Ophelia. Explanations fell from lips through the air to clang on the floor. In a cold concrete room a prone marble statue still welcomed curses and little dances, quickly delineating and listing every ill will for every vice, in series, to push through into the beyond and sever the effigial prisoner from all hope and means of social, even physical, survival. One teardrop could pull down strings, and then waves of sadness, but not this time. The catbird recompensees, so believed, snatched and plucked hard earned fruits of labor from around the accused, careful to describe the act as liberation of ill gotten gains. All this, the untaintable covenant in practice, shamed by a 22 year running deceit, a 16 year fatality wrought by it, and good people nicked by the brazenness of scum gaming the hints, a warrior fears it not. True, noble, innocent, no matter how once mistaken or mislabeled, those adamant qualities do not tarnish once polished and honed. The light of that spirit burns into those dark corners of silence where latchers on practiced nasty gibbering from envy, and for oozing, bubbling joy. Balanced on the two hanging plates of a scale set atop a centered podium, pastillas for humanitarian need. On the one side malcontents in big finance leveraged the administration process to torment the man, a perceived threat, and the gift of pain relief became a snake oil, chirping enders of silence once fulcromed, magnifiers of internal contemplations and doubts, while in opposition the benign effects of common pseudo-endorphins expanded into yawning gulfs of ulceritic churning that swallowed all serenity, and even strong artistic thoughts, willed into existence with care only to vanish without the slightest cosmic ripple. The entwined serpents witness no broken vows, yet the treachery slithers, taken hold amid simple misconceptions and thriving on the viscosity of social tendencies, remained in motion. The hierarchy of the truly pristine witnessed and could only tut-tut, for the grand of burden find humor in the weightlessness, and those weighed to have carried no share point to what thought a mountain and triumph in the efforts they stacked in that place.

Phrittish

In other news, George Bush issued an arrest warrant for himself in Geneva in order to suspend writer's sense of humor indefinitely. Writer dies laughing. Case dismissed.

- Bless-her-revelry

Recipe for Romantic Evening #3 [Update: Dinner Drink]

1. Guatemalan Ensalada de Antigua:
(number of ingredients follow ingredient) Small mint sprigs (13). Iced lavender stalks 1.25 cm long (12). Brightest part of arugala shoots (8-9). Diced light green bellpeppers (1) Fresh cubed highland meleton (.5), washed and cleaned okra (2), bed of iceberg lettuce with small ring of grated carrot around outside edge, red pepper dust in three spots on trisection of bowl, olive quarters in thirded sections of ring (3). To be served with 14 year old Balsamic and spicy olive oil.
2. Appetizer: Small bowls of traditional Rollins Cajun/Creole crawfish bisque with two stuffed tails per bowl. (Recipe is family secret. Makes 18 bowls.)
3. Canelloni with crab meat stuffing:
- Glazed raspberry and blueberry curry syrup: 18 raspberries, 15 blueberries, 4 tbsp. olive oil, 1 onion cross slice, 1/3 teaspoon sugar. Light brown quickly over high heat, swirling rapidly in small sauce pan (2-4 minutes max, or longer and slower for new cooks)
- Crab meat stuffing: half pound of fresh crab meat, third cup of bread crumbs, one egg, (1/4 - 1/2) teaspoon of Tony Chacheries (based on dietetic necessity), 1 pinch of basil, 1 small pinch of rosemary dust, 5 tbsp. Romano cheese, slivers of white asparagus. Add glazed raspberry and blueberry curried syrup to stuffing. Cover in mozzarella to taste before stuffing.
- Boil canneloni al dente. Stuff. Top with custom mild green chile sauce: mild green chile sauce, 1 tbsp. ground cumin, 1 tsp. onions, 1/2 to 2/3 tsps. of minced garlic, 1/4 tsp salt, frost with Saffron powder.
- Bake at 375 degrees until light browning appears, then turn to medium low for another 25 minutes.
III. 3b. For drink with dinner: Marco Negri - Chardonnay from Moscato D'Asti
4. Turtle Dove Cheesecake: Semi bake cheesecake. Inject caramel sauce 1 cc per pocket in eight pockets around outside edge of cake, 4 in closer circle to center, finish baking (20 minutes or until any trace of browning appears). Let cool for 35 minutes. Cover outside edge with large chocolate flakes standing on end. Cross divide pie with two lines of hazelnuts halves (3 on each line, one in center), on diagonal with two very narrow subsecting cross lines of nearly pulverized pecans. (Two slices for couple [myself and a discreet female])
4.b Apertif: Drambuie or Cognac. One shot in sniffers.

Bon appetit!

Kamichu

The most innocent and enjoyable of all the Asian animation that I have seen is a series called Kamichu. It was almost like having children, if a person who has no children can have any idea what it's like to have children. It was so good that as it approached the end there was a deep sense of loss that there would be no way to watch it again for the first time. The best of entertainment, for children and the young at heart alike.

Counting Out Darknesse

::Music::

These songs contain many sounds produced by spent artillery shells, knives and other military gear. Also heavily represented are cleaning products, tools, plastic containers and canvasses. It takes longer to create music using everyday objects than when using musical instruments, but it's a lot of fun.

This release is called Counting Out Darknesse. The next one will be even longer in coming. The sample work has moved into complicated territory. That means I'm running out of objects that can be easily moved to the recording “studio.” I will have to move microphones one day soon. Efforts have been hampered by a complete lack of mobility on my part.

All language samples are Asian based animation Easter eggs. There is also a heavily modulated sample of Jim Hawthorne's voice (the voice of the LSU Tigers), and scanner and radio chatter. Many voices and beats produced live. Nothing was reproduced haphazardly or lightly.

Every song available in every major format:

The Mouths of Braybes

Fore Give God

Humor Less Human

Peauxrque- I decided not to upload it. I'm more interested in sharing 100% originally created sound, even if the song was completely my own work after a lot of work. It sounded nothing like NIN or anyone else, btw.

::Grave Capitalism::

Western civilization can't cope with this idea -- “Everything is free.” It IS all about our money, and everything else. We all have free doom. I was going to discuss it in my words, but this is better:

Form is exactly emptiness, emptiness exactly form;
so it is with sensation, perception, mental reaction, and consciousness.
All things are essentially empty, not born, not destroyed;
not stained, not pure; without loss, without gain.
Therefore in emptiness there is no form,
no sensation, perception, mental reaction, or consciousness;
no eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind,
no color, sound, smell, taste, touch, object of thought;
no seeing and so on to no thinking;
no ignorance, and no end to ignorance;
no old age and death, no end to old age and death,
no anguish, cause of anguish, cessation, path;
no wisdom and no attainment.
Since there is nothing to attain, the Bodhisattva lives thus:
with no hindrance of mind; no hindrance, and hence, no fear;
far beyond deluded thought,
RIGHT HERE IS NIRVANA.
—The Great Prajna–Paramita Heart Sutra

Some nasty old man taunted that my bills must get stuck back in the mailbox. "Welfare must be great." I wouldn't know... I know a lot more about chronic pain. Maybe money and good social standing will comfort some people in an afterlife. Let me know how that works out. The safe money is on materialism's fleeting deceit.

::Erotica::

I have a new story to post, but it's not completely finished. The piece was very long on plot. It wasn't my intention to post a romance novella, so I'm paring it down. "More sex, less talk" may not work in relationships, but it's a good rule for erotica. Next time I get to an Internet connection I'll have it done.

Here's the 1st couple of pages of the revised version:

The chilly breeze lingered around Maya's ankles and snaked its icy fingers up her skirt as she walked hurriedly from her car to the door of the house. In the sky the clouds of a new front promised cold rain and gray skies for the rest of the day. “It'll be a good evening for hot chocolate and classical music,” Maya thought to herself as she opened the door of her home and stepped into the warm interior. Arriving at home felt even better than it normally did.

The lure of a hot bath won out over eating as the first order of late afternoon business. Maya had not eaten breakfast or lunch, but relaxation and purity ranked even higher on her list of desires than satisfying her hunger. Mental and spiritual peace had always been among her foremost priorities in life, ever since she made her own way in the world. Her quick morning shower was long past and hardly enough to usher in a weekend without work worries. She proceeded directly to the bathroom and began preparing the bath immediately after locking the front door.

Maya took her clothes off and folded them neatly before sinking down into the steaming water. The warmth eased the tightness of her muscles and allowed her to sink into a meditative state that pushed troubles from the forefront of her awareness. She allowed the hot water to trickle as she relaxed and the constant light splashes resonated in time to the flickering candle lit on the windowsill high above the tub. Maya considered it the perfect way to start Friday night.

A long time later she emerged from the bath feeling refreshed and energized. After going through her post-bath routine Maya went into her closet and got dressed for an evening at home alone. She chose a delicate black and red silk nightgown to grace her clean body. Looking at herself in the mirror she decided she exuded feminine allure, then sighed and pushed the thought from her mind, in light of being single and alone for the night.

In the kitchen Maya busied herself with making hot chocolate. She put on a small pot of milk to heat before she set out her cup and spoon on a diminutive mahogany tray she bought in Boston the previous year. She added a saucer with four big oatmeal raisin cookies on it to complete the arrangement.

Maya briefly considered how fattening her supper was before shrugging off the little voice that nagged about such things. She hardly needed to worry about her weight. She worked so much there wasn't any time for extra calories to get a foothold with her metabolism. Just to prove she didn't care she added a little more sugar than normal to her cocoa.

After putting on public radio and setting down her tray on the living room coffee table Maya turned on her laptop to catch up on current events. She carefully avoided the bookmarks related to work, and decided to first look into weekend entertainment in New Orleans. She was halfway through a Times-Picayune article on a local band helping Katrina victims rebuild when she saw an ad for one of the local jazz bars. Maya took a deep breath and closed the lid on her laptop.

The last man Maya had been involved with, the only man she had ever really loved, played piano. She hadn't seen or heard from him in two years, and considered herself well over him, until she saw the ad. He was the headlining act Saturday night at a tavern just down the street. Maya's pulse rate went up as a flood of stored memories washed through her thoughts and occupied her mind.

Shawn Reilly entered Maya's life in the summer of 2006. She had just been promoted to a senior partner in the import-export firm she had been running, mostly by herself, for three years. The increased optimism in her daily life mingled with her physical and mental attraction to Shawn and produced an unstoppable desire to get what she wanted, once and for all. She wanted the career, the relationship, the money, the comfort, the security – she wanted the whole package deal. That summer Maya felt that not only did she deserve to have it, but it was all right there in front of her for the taking. The good feeling was really good, while it lasted.

In 2007 she and Shawn began having troubles, mostly because his music career had vanished during the months the had been closely involved. He didn't seem capable of managing his own life and having a relationship at the same time. Shawn devoted all his time to her. While Maya loved that about him, his financial reality became something that slowly dragged them apart. She wasn't worried about supporting him, but the idea of it made him bitter and resentful. It never stopped eating away at him.

Not long after the first cold front that year Shawn told Maya they needed to talk. She had seen it coming. She knew her perfect life was falling apart, and there wasn't anything she could do to stop it. She started crying before he even said anything.

Shawn told her that he needed time to work on music. He told her all the right, nice things that all amounted to him walking out of her life. He made up his mind before they ever sat down. It became obvious that nothing she could say or do would make him change his mind.

Maya hadn't said much of anything after she realized it was the end. He tried to cheer her up before he walked out, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of thinking she was okay with his decision. She didn't bother lying to him or to herself about how much it hurt. And then he was gone.

The memories of the months after that threatened to ruin her evening before it even got started, and then there was a knock at the door. Maya's heart leapt into her throat. She immediately knew a life altering event was about to take place without any time for her to think or plan. She took a little sip of her cocoa before mustering her pride and resolve, and getting up to answer the door.

Peering through the peephole Maya was not the least bit surprised to see that it was Shawn. She opened the door without thinking about her state of dress, but it immediately sprang to mind when she saw Shawn's eyes drink in the sight of her. Seeing him staring at her made her nipples stiff, and she could feel them rub against the fabric of her nightgown as her chest rose and fell with a few breaths before either one of them spoke.

“I'm sorry I couldn't call ahead, Maya, but I brought you roses to make up for it,” Shawn said when he found his voice. Maya saw that it was true. He was indeed holding a dozen roses, with Baby's Breath.

It was Maya's turn to take in the sight of him. He was handsome as ever, with his nicely trimmed auburn hair, tan complexion and muscular build. Maya always wondered how he maintained his physique when he never did anything but play piano and compose music. That thought fleeted from her mind as quickly as it came because she smelled him, and he smelled just the same as he had the last time she saw him. The moment was almost overwhelming.

“Come in, Shawn,” Maya said as she regained her composure, “I'll get something to put the roses in.”

Maya let Shawn in and locked the door behind him before taking the roses and going to her kitchen. The silence was thick enough to slice as he followed her. It only took the short walk to free Maya's thoughts and tongue, but she didn't say anything until she had the flowers in a vase full of water.

“What are you doing here, Shawn?” Maya asked.