Glass Bead Game...adapted*

"He hoped to arrange and sum up all the knowledge of his time, symmetrically and synoptically, around a central idea. That is precisely what the Glass Bead Game does: pursue the encyclopedic idea...not just a juxtaposition of the fields of knowledge and research, but an interrelationship, an organic denominator."

He was alone in this pursuit, which was universally loathed and considered a philosophical perversion. His efforts were thwarted at every step though at times he felt he had found this organic denominator (which was quixotically related to his own quest) and had cause to celebrate. With no one to share his findings he turned to debauchery, whoring, drinking, drugs, depression and lastly a lonely death in a urine scented cabin. His notes were illegible and were cremated with his emaciated body. And those closest to him nodded proudly that they had foreseen this self-destructive end, had attempted to guide the disturbed philosopher to a path of life insurance premiums and regular weed whacking, but had ultimately failed to add another obedient drone to the mob of 7 billion waiting to fill their car up with gas. Instead of contributing to the holistic understanding of man, his life became an exhibit in favor of conformity.

*apologies to Hermann Hesse

wet flue gas desulfurization technology

"Using wet flue gas desulfurization technology—a “scrubber” system—the project is expected to capture at least 80 percent of the mercury in the coal and reduce sulfur dioxide emissions by more than 90 percent. By law the project must be operating no later than July 2013. The Clean Air Project will supplement more than $50 million in previous investments at Merrimack Station to reduce particulate emissions and nitrogen oxides."


How much more complicated are our lives going to become? For me, this is all heading in the wrong direction. It's getting insanely complicated to maintain a lifestyle that isn't destroying everything. It's like we're already living on the moon. I guess we're really determined to dominate or destroy our environment. It's one or the other. Maybe both. The idea of harmony is like a joke now. Thoreau will probably be classified as a terrorist one day. This paradigm is very hard for me to accept even if I can understand the philosophical underpinnings of it. At some point I start to question if it is just reckless Americans being reckless Americans and wonder if it is actually diabolical inventors securing their wealth at the cost of our health. You know? It wouldn't be the first time that's happened. Look at asbestos.

Independence Day

A year ago I was in Mexico playing music at a cafe. Today I'm sweating through the sheets in New England. What does it all mean? I'm convinced Americans are gasoline junkies. Gasoline and food. It's an addictive society and we're all supposed to walk the fine line of responsible abuse. Most of the younger crowd in Mexico did speed in one form or another. I did not but the heat and small food budget made me lose weight so everyone thought I was a wasted crank fiend. (Ranting about Hannah Montana being the anti-Christ didn't help.) And when I defended myself (sounding like a true junkie) they wondered why I wasn't doing speed. I couldn't win either way. And everyone drank beer after beer. I'm a contrary person because if the mob is doing it then I'm suspicious (since the media controls the mob and Rupert Murdoch controls the media...)
I arrive at decisions slower than anyone I've met except the deranged schizophrenics I met on the street in Santa Cruz. I'm slow because if you habitually examine a choice from all angles then it multiplies all the angles until you've got more angles than time. But it's important, I think, to study the options. Lately, I'm thinking about finding a farm in South America and becoming a pack animal. Portsmouth is becoming this overrun concrete jungle before my eyes. It's not changing by consensus, but by an invisible public opinion or deference to progress. No one really knows how we have two gigantic convention halls back to back where there used to be a supermarket. I can't remember what was at the Marriot location. I really can't even though there was a day when the Market Street Extension didn't exist. We used to drive to Newington on Maplewood Ave. There was no other way.

Consequences. People who do remarkable things (good or bad) proceed bravely and radically, without fear of consequence. If you want to control the fate of man, make news, then you have to put all the sails up, throw all the dead weight overboard and go. The process of refining silicon into solar panels is the result of recklessness. In this case, the recklessness paid off. In other situations like the Hudson River, the Meadowlands of New Jersey, the Gulf of Mexico, it didn't pay off. Recklessness sort of requires you ignore any environmental consequences. The end (solar power) is justified by the means (processing silicon with unpredictable results)

That's what America means to me today. Recklessness in the face of an unforgiving environment. I know that I was born under a lucky star when I have no worries about an animal carrying me off in the night. When was the last time a bobcat walked around Boston?

Yes, the native Americans had come to terms with their habitat but did they have wireless internet? No. And that invention was the latest in a series of reckless achievements for America. It's safe to say that nothing is going to change that because there will always be an excuse to experiment and go forth recklessly into the unknown. Maybe we will cause the next ice age by melting the ice caps and thus lowering the temperature of the earth. And that will be a good excuse to investigate arctic lifestyles. Can I grow tomatoes in the snow? How can we live better considering the circumstances. That's the driving question Americans have asked for 240 years. For the first time in history the government/church not only didn't hinder the inventor, but they encouraged his efforts. How comfortably can we live? It turns out we can live very comfortably and it also turns out that living comfortably is totally isolated from living well. Maybe you are comfortable and maybe you are living well but the two aren't related. Yes, Sony and IBM will tell you they are permanently connected but that's just their marketing team talking. I suspect that comparatively there are still the same number of reasons to be happy or unhappy as there were in 800 B.C.
This is our time and so we think we've got it so much better than the 800 B.C. folks. But I promise you they were thinking the same thing about people who lived in 3000 B.C.
"Man, can you believe people lived without fire?"
"No, I can't. It must've sucked."

Did it suck? No way. It was their time and they were probably proud of the leather bags they made. The ruins in Egypt are proof those folks were proud to be alive. A dog has almost no memory. You take a dog into the woods and the animal thinks it's never going to return to the house. Is it suddenly miserable?

So, this is our time, our time in America. Wires cross the sky to carry information and that's just the beginning. Yes, we are a reckless people and will leap before we do a safety check. I think that's how things are accomplished. Looked at from high above the earth we probably look like we're ungoverned, unruly and dangerously independent, which is exactly what we wanted back in 1776. We were the rogue nation at one time and it worked out pretty good. Maybe we should take a lesson from ourselves and let other countries alone.
Happy independence day.

Beer versus Computer

It wasn't much of a fight. I killed the keyboard but the computer is still running so I'll use the external keyboard. If anyone wants to donate to get me a new keyboard it's the sony vaio PCG FRV26 keyboard. But then again, I would only pour more beer on it to get the writing demons drunk so they would stop yelling at me and let me write. On second thought, forget the keyboard and buy me a '69 Triumph Twin so I can get the fuck out of here.

Where's the orchestra?

Chuck Klosterman (hipster author) raves about this song so here it is. I can't say I'm familiar with it and I want to introduce it but have no anecdote related to it. This is unusual because it will mean your listening to it, if you've never heard it, will become part of the life history of this song, like hearing Let it Be for the first time.



Where's the orchestra?
Wasn't this supposed to be a musical?
Here I am in the balcony
How the hell could I have missed the overture?
I like the scenery
Even though I have absolutely no
Idea at all
What is being said
Despite the dialogue
There's the leading man
The movie star who never faced an audience

Where's the orchestra?
After all
This is my big night on the town
My introduction to the theater crowd
I assumed that the show would have a song
So I was wrong
At least I understand
All the innuendo and the irony
And I appreciate
The roles the actors played
The point the author made
And after the closing lines
And after the curtain calls
The curtain falls
On empty chairs
Where's the orchestra?


Here's another tune Klosterman raves about, the Beatles influenced "Laura". It's hard to be a solo artist and channel a four man band but Billy Joel and Brian Wilson easily are the closest who ever tried.



Laura
Calls me
In the middle of the night

Passes on her
Painful information
Then these careless fingers
They get caught in her vice

Til they're bleeding
On my coffee table
Living alone isn't all that
It's cracked up to be

I'm on her side
Why does she push the poison on me?

Laura
Has a very hard time
All her life has
Been one long disaster
Then she tells me
She suddenly believes she's seen
A very good sign
She'll be taking
Some aggressive action
I fight her wars
While she's slamming her doors
In my face

Failure to break
Was the only mistake
That she made

Here I am
Feeling like a fucking fool
Do I react the way exactly
She intends me to?

Everytime I think I'm off the hook
She makes me lose my cool
I'm her machine
And she can punch all the keys
And she can push any button I was programmed through

Laura
Calls me
When she needs a good fix
All her questions
Will get sympathetic answers
I should
Be so
Immunized
To all of her tricks

She's surviving
On her second chances
Sometimes I feel like this
Godfather deal is all wrong

How can she hold an umbilical chord
For so long?

I've done everything I can
What else am I supposed to do
I'm her machine
And she can punch all the keys
And she can push any button
I was programmed through

Laura
Loves me
Even if I don't care

That's my problem
That's her sacred absolution
If she had to
She would put herself in my chair
Even though I
Faced electrocution
She always says
I'm the best friend that
She's ever had

How do you
Hang up on someone
Who needs you that bad?


I'm indifferent to these songs after listening to and playing Fountain of Sorrow continuously for a week. Jackson makes Billy Joel tunes sound like jello jingles.