Cosmopoetica

All this time I’ve been doing it wrong…

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I like Dio. Really. And “Rainbow in the Dark” is a great metal song. And Vivian Campbell plays a crazy-good solo… but watching Ronny sing always makes me laugh… and the piping synthesizer riff in the context of such a rocking song makes me laugh even harder…

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John Stewart calls shenanigans on the recent White House Poetry Jam. And rightly so… this cringe-worthy event appears to have rolled up many of the worst aspects of the contemporary scene into one bundle destined for mockery:

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"In These Times"

My sister’s out of work and my brother’s
out of work and my other brother’s
out of work, these are facts available
over the phone or in person, just as now,
three clouds travel north, one
above another, smallish, amoeba shaped,
and the bottom cloud just died,
and the top two have joined forces
and left me to fend for myself
under a new sky.
How vague is that, amoeba shaped?
That could be anything: cigar shaped,
Manhattan shaped, could be libor, t-bill, jobs report,
which arrive as theoretical entities, words
from a tele-prompter repeated by newscasters
and converted to waves beamed to satellites
and bounced to my set to be reconstituted
as their basset-hound eyes of concern
when the day’s dollop or wallop of woe
is mashed and rehashed by people
making good scratch for telling us how bad it is.
There’s little to hold in what they say.
That’s what a job is: a pencil to hold, a scalpel,
shovel, "A Statistical Analysis
of the Probability That Anyone Will Read
the Statistical Analysis," even such slippage
is a mind-hold that keeps some someone
from drifting off into irrelevance.
My sister’s out of work and my brother’s
out of work and my other brother’s
out of work, these are facts known to many
and more many every day,
there but for the grace of a W-2
go you, as I’m employed by this poem
that’s about to lay me off, I remember that
when the question of what to do
gets intellected about.
Jobs to do because there’s work to do
because this whole to-do’s
a stop-gap measure to the zip
or heaven to come, about which
we haven’t a clue.
A little Keynesing now or a lot of keening
later, when the phone rings
and maybe it’s you whose house
is no longer your house, whose car has
just been slicked away by a guy
tatted-up all goth and penitentiary,
you whose kid needs grub, me
who has to mumble through
some version of
could you, I don’t know, maybe send me,
I hate to ask, a few bucks?
If you never had to make that call,
let me kiss the inside of your skull, let me intercede
on the part of the burned field
for the grass,
on the side of the cadaver
for the walk under moonlight, I’m only praying
you listen to the theory
that how we get to be alone
is how we work to be together, since there are stars
inside your thumb, your breath,
and how you say yes or no is how they shine
or go out.

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Reading the news today revealed that a contestant on American Idol had done a cover of Gary Jules‘ cover/arrangement of the Tears for Fears song “Mad World.” The second generation cover was OK, but it reminded me how much I like the version Jules created (for the Donnie Darko soundtrack):

While on the subject, another Gary Jules song I listen to way too often (it took me a while to realize these two songs were the same artist)… “Falling Awake”:

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Coming soon to a theater near you?

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I guess the one thing Rick Santelli has over Jim Cramer is that he doesn’t expose his vapid ridiculousness quite as regularly…

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Talk about revenge…

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The Terms of Service brouhaha doesn’t even make my own list.

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Who knew Mario Kart was really a love story?

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Explaining just why you have to love Journey…

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Via Darren Barefoot comes this Ze Frank video. Not safe for work, but it made me laugh. “Brain Crack” indeed…

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The Mac ads quickly started making me clench my teeth, but John Hodgman is brilliant. The Areas of My Expertise is one of the funniest books I’ve ever read and I have high hopes for More Information Than You Require. This video from TED captures him in full-on storytelling mode, the way I first discovered him…

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A single that might be on Ben Folds’ new album, due out at the end of the month: “You Don’t Know Me At All”

While not necessarily a track I’d recommend as representative to someone who’s never heard Ben Folds before (he is one of the few artists who can, in the space of a single album, make me laugh out loud, cry, and feel envious that he seems to have so much damn fun making music), I can’t help but enjoy a new song of his featuring Regina Spektor.

A couple of Ben’s tunes (“Late” and “Still Fighting It” among others) are on the shortlist of my favorite songs of all time.

And Regina Spektor… well, not only is she working her way onto that same list, but she makes my poor heart pound harder than is healthy.

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This brief documentary on the rise of Neo-Nazis and other hate groups in Russia is powerful and disturbing… and perfect for the web where it isn’t censored as it would undoubtedly be on television.

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The teachings of Phistophicles, lesser known ancient Greek philosopher, are now available for all to learn from…

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I discover music at my own pace, relying mostly on the serendipity of social connections and recommendations… which means I’m usually late, but not as often disappointed.

So, I was surprised to learn that Panic! at the Disco is now just Panic at the Disco and, after enjoying their “new” album Pretty. Odd., I was also surprised that it is getting pretty roundly slagged for being a little too Beatles-like.

The comparison isn’t misguided since they are paying obvious homage to Sgt. Pepper, but musically what I hear is the kind of music that My Chemical Romance romance would make if they idolized Jeff Lynn and E.L.O. rather than Queen and The Smashing Pumpkins.

“You could ’cause you can so you do” will be in my head for a while!

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I don’t know why I didn’t think of “The Waking”– one of my favorite Roethke poems– when I was thinking so much about villanelles last weekend. However, in one of those serendipitous exchanges that make participating in these social networks so worthwhile, David Weinstock (while you’re there, check out “I am the Eggman”) turned me on to this recording of Kurt Elling’s music version of “The Waking.”

“The Waking”

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me, so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

–Theodore Roethke

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Rarely, lyrics are interesting enough that they can stand on their own… but with the Internet Tubes they don’t have to. I’m quite taken by these:

Deep in the belly of a whale I found her
Down with a deep blue jail around her
Running her hands through the ribs of the dark
Florence and Calamity and Joan of Arc

I love the way she looks in her underwear
I lose my page in the book then the plot then I swear
She makes the most of her time by loving me plenty
She knows there’ll come a day when we won’t be getting any

Stain of the sepia of the butcher Crimea
Through the rack of a brass band I thought I could see her
In a cake walk she came through the dead and the lame
Just a little bird floating on a hurricane

I was flat on my back my feet in the thorns
I was in between the apples and the chloroform
She came to me often I was sure I was dying
It was always hard to tell if she was laughing or crying

I thought I heard somebody calling in the dark
I thought I heard somebody call

Joan never cared about the in betweens
Combed her hair with the blade did the maid of Orleans
Said Christ could walk on water we can wade through the war
You don’t need to tell me who the fire is for
Oh bring me a love that can sweeten a sword
A boat that can love the rocks and the shore
The love of the nice but reaching out for the wreck
Can you love me like the crosses love the nape of the neck

Was is Casey Jones or Casey at the Bat
Who died out of pride and got famous for that
Killed by a swerve laid low by the curve
Do you think they ever thought they got what they deserve
Don’t pity the bullet and pity the man
Who both find their place in the same sad plan
We’re both like the barrels going over the falls
Crying all the way down I never asked to be involved

I thought I heard somebody calling in the dark
I thought I heard somebody call

General Jones began the day by taking pink little pills
Sent his men to the top of some hell of a hill
Through the whisper of trees came artillery breeze
Said I love the way the wind comes a’tickling my knees
Jane shot the apple right between the eyes
I thought of her when you came outside
Lemonade on your breath the sun in your hair
Did I mention how I love you in your underwear

Deep in the belly of a whale I found her
Down with a deep blue jail around her
Running her hands through the ribs of the dark
Florence and Calamity and Joan of Arc

I thought I heard somebody calling in the dark
I thought I heard somebody call
I thought I heard somebody calling in the dark
I thought I heard somebody call

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Talk of the Coen brothers films last week reminded me of the Gipsy Kings version of "Hotel California" (featured in The Big Lebowski) and, as usual, YouTube provides. Bear in mind that I consider "Hotel California" — despite being played to death– one of the greatest rock songs of the era and the lyrical solo by the Joe Walsh/Don Felder duo remains one of my favorite guitar solos of all time. In other words, I wouldn’t praise another version lightly (and, indeed, most of the cover versions are terribly). But not only do the Gipsy Kings do a great job of re-interpreting the song while retaining what makes it great, but the video makes me want to go watch The Big Lebowski again. The Dude abides.

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