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I just posted my review of Robert Silverman's Variations over at Face the Music.
photo by kgm
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I sat down in front of my computer and let my fingers touch the keys. After six days away, it felt strange. It felt nothing like swimming through the warmest, bluest, gentlest ocean waters, on a beach you've discovered simply by getting lost because all winding roads lead to the ocean, on a beach shaded by green cliffs, on a beach that is altogether yours, not another person in sight, not at all. It felt nothing like driving upwards and upwards, forever upwards, upon a road that shouldn't be wide enough for even one car but is actually wide enough for…
Huckleberry subscribes to the if I can't see you, I'm invisible school of camouflage.
Bagheera may only weigh six pounds, but she can keep two (relatively) normal-sized humans perched on the outer edges of a queen-size bed. It's hers by dint of occupation—and she defends her space like it was a trademark.
Conceptual music and anti records (and CDs): A brief overview.
My friend Kent designed an LP jacket made of industrial abrasive that put the abrasive on the inside of the sleeve, so that every time you inserted or removed the disc, you created a new experience. That was around 1984, which seems to have been a banner year for that sort of thing.
It turns out that an explosion in a fireworks factory looks exactly like you'd imagine. Thanks to YouTube, now we all know.
Steve Silberman passes along this article and video on Dick Hoyt and his son, Rick. Put fragile documents away before you read this one—unless tear stains won't bother you.
A flash video from the Dove Self-Esteem Fund. Those cover girls don't really look like that, but we all know this, right? Still, a nicely done reminder.
One of the most popular URLs I ever linked to was "The Shipbreakers". Here's more, including pictures of many of the treasures that have been "liberated" from the ships.
I was walking down Fifth Ave. a few days ago, when a woman striding down the sidewalk behind me gave off such antagonistic vibes that I scurried out of her path. As she passed by, I thought There's someone just waiting to explode.
A minute later I walked into the A&S Pork Store and there she was, waiting impatiently for some prosciutto and screaming into her cellphone. "My therapist scheduled me for an appointment half an hour earlier than usual and waited until I was on my way there to cancel. I could just murder her!"
Uh, gee, thanks for sharing.
Silent communication…