Oooh-Wee Ratatouille!
"Seen the extra-long trailer for <I>Ratatouille</I>?" I asked Paul DiComo.
"Seen the extra-long trailer for <I>Ratatouille</I>?" I asked Paul DiComo.
"'If you define the black hole as some place where you can lose objects, then there is no such thing because the black hole evaporates before anything is seen to fall in,' said [Case Western Reserve University physicist] Vachaspati."
Captain Beefheart's rules for guitarists: "Wait until the moon is out, then go outside, eat a multi-grained bread and play your guitar to a bush. If the bush doesn't shake, eat another piece of bread."
John Marks writes: "Here is a page with six free downloadable MP3 tracks that for one reason or another had to be left off my CD survey of the historical and significant pipe organs of Rhode Island I have mentioned a few times in my Fifth Element column.
Rodrigo y Gabriela play guitar real good. The video, on the other hand, is annoying. You might enjoy it more with your eyes closed.
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I was doing a little dance on the subway platform. I was standing behind a dirty, purple column, so that no one could see me. I was waiting for the uptown F train. I was listening to the iPod¹. I was somehow avoiding death. And it occurred to me that I should start a new band.
"Believe me, Leonardo [da Vinci] was absolutely amazing.
A long, ultimately inconclusive, fascinating look at Colony Collapse Disorder.
The JVC Jazz Festival is in New York City (a bit of an absurdity: New York City <I>is</I> a jazz festival, all the time). A crazy schedule prevents me from seeing much this year (less and less of this festival is actually jazz, in any case), but I’m definitely catching the Keith Jarrett-Gary Peacock-Jack DeJohnette trio, Thursday night at Carnegie Hall, and Lee Konitz playing with a few bands, in honor of his 80th birthday (!), Monday night at Carnegie’s Zankel Hall.
With increasing frequency, a litany of strange packages began arriving in my mail recently. Inside were, and continue to be, a series of very strange discs, entitled, Rockabye Baby!, that purport to be rock tunes made into lullabies. My first reaction? Smoking crack, as well all well saw in the 90's, can be a terrible, terrible thing.