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Former Talking Heads frontman and the author of This Is Your Brain On Music discuss Music, language, and memory.
The secret life of the F word. Now that you know what it's about, you know not to click the link if that sort of thing offends you. Me? I live in Brooklyn—we use it because "uh" sounds so inexpressive.
Please click the External Link to enjoy the latest stop on Michael Lavorgna's Road Tour. Exit 11A leads Michael down the ramp to DeVore Fidelity, where we spend another lovely day at the hard-working Brooklyn Navy Yard and learn more about John DeVore's design philosophy.
I enjoyed reading this, feeling as though I was there again, feeling that Michael conveys some things in ways I couldn't. In fact, I was never really satisfied with how I described my time spent with John DeVore or his gibbon speakers. After all, writing about music is hard to do.
But I'll tell you this…
Eugene O'Neill is currently having a resurgence everywhere from prisons to Broadway (John Atkinson ranks the Old Vic production of Moon For the Misbegotten as one of his most intense theatrical experiences). John Patrick Diggens argues that O'Neill's themes of deceit and desire are particularly timely for 'Muricans today.
I've been reading Chet Raymo's Walking Zero, a meditation on the history of science focussed through a walk along the prime meridian in the UK. It's a lovely book, one I tend to linger over, reading a chapter and then mulling over it for a few days. Highly recommended.
Here Raymo ponders the question of style and whether there's an evolutionary mechanism for it. His answer might surprise you.
In the 1920s and '30s, fliers would race their home-built and "suicidally overpowered" single engine aircraft—sometimes in front of 60,000 spectators. The Granville Brothers' Gee Bee Model Z was little more than a massive motor with stubby little wings attached, but it paved the way for the fast fighters the Air Corps put aloft in WWII.
"Housed in the Agency's Headquarters Building in McLean, Virginia, this unique collection illustrates the history of US intelligence—which effectively began when this country was still 13 separate colonies—by showing some of the artifacts and tools used by men and women serving in various aspects of espionage."
"Every artifact and photograph has been declassified by the appropriate officials for public viewing. Please note that because the Museum is located on the CIA compound, it is not open to the public for tours."
Oh, the irony.
My allergies are, as they say, "killing me." Robert says it's the tree pollen.
"The tree pollen," Robert says, "is crazy." Liven up New York City with pink, purple, and white flowers and it just doesn't know what to do. The island is taking a long, deep, stuttering breath, arching its weary back, raising its heavy shoulders, closing its watery eyes, and having a sneezing fit. Bless you. Gesundheit. Salute!
I've got a headache.
But I'm not complaining. It sure is beautiful outside. Later on, I'll venture out into the pollinated world in search of a suit…