The Substantially Similar Weblog

• benjamin the well read cat ()
  Written: Spring, 1998
• The Silence of Angels (After Rilke) ()
  Written: Spring, 1998
• titled morning ()
  Written: Spring, 1998
• particular car
  I wrote this when I was 17, an exchange student in Belgium. It was the only poem I ever posted to USENET.
  Written: January, 1994

Written Spring, 1998 |

• Report from the Verizon v. RIAA Hearing
  As part of its “scorched earth” strategy in the copyright wars, the Recording Industry Assocation of America is trying to use certain provisions of the Digital Millenium Copyright Act to force the Verizon Interent Service Provider to turn over the names of certain subscribers who, the RIAA alleges, are sharing unauthorized content. This was originally published on GrepLaw and appeared on Slashdot and Privacy Digest.
  October 4, 2002
• Report from the NuSphere v. MySQL AB Court Hearing
  Hastily written report after the NuSphere v. MySQL AB court hearing before US District Court Judge Patty Saris. This was potentially the first “test” of the General Public License which forms the legal undergirding for much of the Free Software movement. The report was first posted to the Free Software Legal e-mail list, and subsequently published on NewsForge and discussed on Slashdot.
  February 27, 2002

 I. & then, suddenly you tremble aloud . the inspectors knock through the glass window found, broken; you are no longer sleeping on imagined sand but watching my nervous fingers around a broken camera & only parched knuckles falling off an unstringed guitar bloody i won't know how to play for the only customers are blind tourists, (from Algeria I suppose) they buy histories II. we move in fresh steps along the boulevard . spectacular clean hornets and untouchable wasps you (in impossible haste)return with several souvenirs a pinched raspberry scarf wound around your neck, asking only about itself (hurled towards the ground in great disgust) thunder glaring away at the humble sky i stutter mumble silently & can't remember if we had seen the occasional diamond seagull, or not. a miniature starfish scampers away in panic 

This song is really an original psalm, from Bob Dylan’s 1970 album New Morning (a gift from my Uncle Glenn many years ago). I just recently “rediscovered it”, perhaps because I’ve conquered my prejudice against Dylan’s Christian inclinations. [His so-called “Christian phase” was actually not until ten years later.]

The descending female backup vocals haunt me (presumably Hilda Harris, Albertine Robinsin, and Maeretha Stewart); Dylan’s strikingly clean piano playing sustains his gravel voice. The song is over in less than a couple of minutes, but it leaves you silent, maybe fearful.

 Father of night, Father of day, Father, who taketh the darkness away, Father, who teacheth the bird to fly, Builder of rainbows up in the sky, Father of loneliness and pain, Father of love and Father of rain. Father of day, Father of night, Father of black, Father of white, Father, who build the mountain so high, Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky, Father of time, Father of dreams, Father, who turneth the rivers and streams. Father of grain, Father of wheat, Father of cold and Father of heat, Father of air and Father of trees, Who dwells in our hearts and our memories, Father of minutes, Father of days, Father of whom we most solemnly praise. 

I’ve recently been on a quest to find underappreciated songs by great musicians. Of course, it’s hard to truly believe anything by Paul Simon hasn’t received fairly widespread attention, but this one at least hasn’t made it onto any “Greatest Hits” albums.

I’ve come to believe that Paul Simon may be the only truly great songwriter.

This song, written in 1969, appeared on the Simon & Garfunkel album, Bridge Over Trouble Water, which (among other things) documented the demise of the duo.

My understanding of the song (based partially on this interview from SongTalk Magazine) is that it describes Simon’s feeling when Garfunkel left for Mexico to act in Catch 22. Early in their career, Simon and Garfunkel were known as Tom and Jerry, and “Tom” in the first and last verse refer to Garfunkel. “…your part’ll go fine”—since Garfunkel was just starting out an act career (which apparently didn’t go too far), Simon is reassuring him that he’ll do fine.

This bittersweet loneliness shows up in a lot of Simon’s work. Cities hold lots of people and little company. When your old friend or lover goes away, you wander city streets on a Sunday morning feeling unbearably light [Milan Kundera]; you are so close as to be vicariously lifted by your friend’s exhilaration, but at once you know longer know them, where they are, or where they’ve left you.

It’s interesting how many superficially opaque Simon songs become lucid with just a couple of “hints”; in this case, Tom & Jerry and the filming of Catch 22 in Mexico.

 Tom, get your plane right on time I know your part'll go fine Fly down to Mexico Da-n-da-da-n-da-n-da-da and here I am, The only living boy in New York I get the news I need on the weather report I can gather all the news I need on the weather report Hey, I've got nothing to do today but smile Da-n-do-da-n-do-da-n-do here I am The only living boy in New York Half of the time we're gone but we don't know where And we don't know where Tom, get your plane right on time I know that you've been eager to fly now Hey let your honesty shine, shine, shine Da-n-da-da-n-da-n-da-da Like it shines on me The only living boy in New York The only living boy in New York 

Kar-Wai Wong (people say “Wong Kar-Wai”) made Chung King Express (Chong Qing Sen Lin) in 1994 as a break from an epic film that he was having trouble finishing (I believe Ashes of Time). The film was shot in about two months, without a script.

The film is visually astonishing; the stylized cinematography is a transformative experience regardless of whether you understand the story. I’m not sure there really is a story, actually. At first, you’re following a woman involved in a complex international crime operation; but then it’s about a love-struck police officer; and then finally, about another love-struck police officer.

Although quite different in style and substance, Chung King Express conjures a visceral experience akin to Chris Marker’s Sans Soleil. If the imaginary and the visionary provide you with spiritual sustenance, this film will satisfy.

John Gorka is a master of the songwriting craft, perhaps enough to make me reconsider my statement that Paul Simon may be the only truly great songwriter.

Travel becomes meaningful when we move on to the next place. We live to create memories, both for ourselves and for others. So long as we are in a place, the possibilities of who we are are limited to the perceptible. We are gone, and those we leave behind can imagine us however they like; as we them.

My favorite line is “People love you when they know you’re leaving soon.”

 There is nothing in my head today Nothing awful there to ponder or confuse me Go ahead in what you have to say And I will listen as I listen to the news I know the whole truth there is horrible It's better if you take a little at a time Too much and you are not portable Not enough and you'll be making happy rhymes You might like the gypsy life You judge your progress by the phases of the moon Get your compass and your sharpest knife People love you when they know you're leaving soon If you choose to settle in one place You may be harder over on the ones you love Like a tree without the growing space You will be taking from below and from above There is nothing in my head today I'll cross the river people as I cross my heart The pigeon bridges are a place to stay I will go under as I try to do my part 

I just don’t get Wilco. So many of the people I love and respect see them as the next Beatles. It’s not that I find their music unpalatable, it just doesn’t “do it” for me. Perhaps some kind soul will take pity on me and help me see the light.