No mozzarella here.
Just real hard drives being shredded.
Yeah, just think about all the info, music, photos and .exe files saying their last ‘buh-bye’
It’s all about going green, right?
If you listen close you can hear the little guys screaming.
Gives new meaning to MEGA-bite doesn’t it?
With hundreds of red-winged blackbirds falling dead out of the sky in Louisiana,
more tornadoes than the NOAA can count,
earthquakes the magnitudes of which the world has never seen,
tropical cyclones that can only be classified as deadly and a massive oil spill that was the worst
environmental disaster of all time, I thought it was high time for some good news.
Some funny news.
Maybe even some fake and made up news.
Anything but the bullshit the media gives us.
Just scanning the web I found a number of interesting stories.
Thank you Google.
I am still alive and well at Smoke and Mirrors and I have read every single comment left here.
I sincerely thank all of you.
If I could spend more time here I would.
But . . .
I wanted to dress the blog up for Halloween, so there ya go.
Yours truly is well and one day away from a week off.
I will be around the house next week *cooking, raking, reading ,writing and getting this house of mine ready for
Old Man Winter. (*a roasted leg of lamb is on the menu)
This post would not be complete without a creep-your-junk-out video.
I saw this years ago and thought it was very strange.
Watch and get yourself a bag or three of goosebumps. The Faces of Belmez. <<<—[Wiki Page]
You be the judge . . . or not.
The computerized voice in the video makes it almost ‘ClockWork Orange-like’ . . . BOO!
I stumbled upon this video and have become somewhat obsessed with it.
It was an entry in the 2010 Cannes Film festival.
I’ve no idea how it made out but I will tell you that the genre it was submitted to was, ‘End of the World’.
This is good stuff, IMHO
Stygian, just like this dark little river . . .
I’ve played piano for 40+ years and one thing that’s always
pissed me up the wall is the size of my hands.
They’re incredibly small and very unlike Sergei Rachmaninoff, Dave Brubeck, Ray Garland,
McCoy Tyner, Bill Evans, George Gershwin and Charles Ives. (and I love them all)
These guys have gorilla sized hands.
Palm a basketball?
Palm a watermelon?
Hand me that piano?
Play a chord with more notes than the fingers on two hands?
Got more ivory?
To try and play a Garland or Gershwin tune you need about 800mgs of ibuprofen an hour
before playing so you don’t cramp up too much.
Small and fast hands, the little bastard.
He was a magician and quite the sex fiend from what I hear.
Russian hands and Roman fingers.
I saw this video a while back and forgot all about it.
Tonight I am tickled pink to post it.
Interesting though that to play the Charles Ives‘Concord Sonata’you need several pieces of wood
cut to specific sizes and weights in order to play the piece.
I guess his hands weren’t big enough.
Enjoy this amazing and funny video.
I love it from a musical standpoint as well as a comedic statement.
This is Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in C-sharp minor with much added levity.
“Small hands. But only hands small.”
I like this guy.
What would Christopher Walken do?
I have a real hard time believing that Walken has a hard time doing anything.
Maybe transcribing chords for a Steely Dan song or playing a digeridoo but jeepers,
the guy acts, sings, and does comedy.
Not everyone likes him but I am a definite fan.
If you haven’t seen these videos (and are a Walken fan) you are in for a serious treat.
The guy amazes me from the standpoint of an artist.
If they ever come up with a ‘WWCWD’ bracelet, let me know.
I want one.
I wrote ‘The Frozen Man’ after listening to this song from James Taylor.
The song subject is a bit different than that of my poem but I credit JT with
the creative kick and ultimate catalyst I needed to write those words for my father.
My daughter Hannah, read ‘The Frozen Man’ in the pouring rain last Monday morning at North Cemetery.
Amidst the silence, there was nary a dry eye under the tent, especially me.
I listened to this song on my Nano tonight and got a bit misty.
I remember the day it inspired me to write the original poem for my Dad.
My deepest thanks to Yvonne for making my words
look so damn beautiful in calligraphy
(they were on display at his wake, btw)
Remembering my Dad today, who is no longer the Frozen Man.
He is finally free and I am slowly moving on . . .
Welcome to Malarky Monday! If you haven’t been here, done that and bought the t-shirt we take the first day of the week to see if we can get you to one simple thing: Smile! It’s silly but we are having a hell of a time doing it. This is our ‘Silver Anniversary’ week. 25 posts! Be sure to visit my fellows in hijinx from the land of Oz after your brief visit here.
A dear friend of mine died last Sunday. I just found out about it today. Ironic that I was looking for something in my closet just the other day and looked up on my bookshelf to see my old copy of “Zen and Art of Motorcycle Maintenance”, the cult novel by Robert Persig. Its pink and black cover reeking ‘classic lit’. Rod had given it to me many years ago during one of my visits to see him. I thought, “I should really call him one of these days.” Looks like I waited a bit too long. His last words were supposedly, “With a little more time, I would’ve gotten it right!” You were wrong, HRB. You got it right this time, from where I’m standing. Although there are no calling hours I thought some music would be appropriate. He loved music. This is your swan song, my dear friend. I will miss you.
Out on the street I was talkin’ to a man He said “there’s so much of this life of mine that I don’t understand” You shouldn’t worry yes that ain’t no crime Cause if you get it wrong you’ll get it right next time (next time).
You need direction, yeah you need a name When you’re standing in the crossroads every highway looks the same After a while you can recognize the signs So if you get it wrong you’ll get it right next time (next time).
Life is a liar yeah life is a cheat It’ll lead you on and pull the ground from underneath your feet No use complainin’, don’t you worry, don’t you whine Cause if you get it wrong you’ll get it right next time (next time).
You gotta grow, you gotta learn by your mistakes You gotta die a little everyday just to try to stay awake When you believe there’s no mountain you can climb And if you get it wrong you’ll get it right next time (next time). “Get it right next time” by Gerry Rafferty