tchaikovsky doo-wop

found a really interesting clip of music today, listening to some tchaikovsky, in his waltz from serenade in c op 48, a hint of doo-wop.

click here

it's about 8 seconds in, pretty amazing how that repetitive, love-desperate, motown, doo-wop, happy-go-lucky sound translates from the late 1800's to the 1960's to even pop music of today.


cheers. you genius, you.

comics/books/music.

if you're into comics, pick up alan moore's new short trade, "light of thy countenance". it may just change your life.

"in your dotage when familiar phrases bedded deep within the undermind float of their own volition to the surface, these catch-penny litanies much more familiar to you than your mother's voice shall surely be the last words that you speak, the mantra that your dying lips attempt to splutter to posterity.

'there he goes...
he's feelin' his...
cheerios...'"

-passage from "light of thy countenance" by alan moore

just finished a few books, both pretty good..."the yiddish policemen's union" and "the great gatsby". if you haven't read any michael chabon, i'd first recommend "the amazing adventures of kavalier and clay.
i just started upton sinclair's "the jungle" for my first time, pretty excited.

finally, make sure to pick up propagandhi's new album "supporting caste". it's amazing as usual for them. here's a link to a full live set from last month in australia, great sound and video, definitely worth an hour or so of your time.

propagandhi live

worlds' end.

"Perhaps a city is a living thing. Each city has its own personality, after all. Los Angeles is not Vienna. London is not Moscow. Chicago is not Paris. Each city is a collection of lives and buildings and it has its own personality."

"So?"

"So, if a city has a personality, maybe it also has a soul. Maybe it dreams. That is where I believe we have come. We are in the dreams of the city. That's why certain places hover on the brink of recognition; why we almost know where we are."

"You mean that we're asleep?"

"No. We are awake, or so I believe. I mean that the city is asleep. And that we are all stumbling through the city's dream."

Exerpt from "The Sandman: Volume Eight - Worlds' End"
Written by Neil Gaiman

a slice of time 1.

four to six pm somewhere outside of los angeles.