Incessant Rambling

Radiohead--"Kid A"

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Tue, 18 Sep 2012 01:14:00 +0000

Do I really need to say anymore? Even though I probably don't, I guess I should. What says fall/winter more than the cold, electronic sounds of Kid A? From the vocal modulations of "Everything in its Right Place" to the "film-scoreesque" "Motion Picture Soundtrack," Kid A redefined the rock album eschewing conventional rock instruments and using Thom's vocals as an instrument that coexists and blends in with the instrumentation instead of overpowering it. I could go on and on for while about Radiohead and their discography. Instead, I'll just leave you with a video of "Idoteque," quite possibly the best Radiohead song ever!

If you didn't see my video remix of "Lotus Flower" and Reservoir Dogs, enjoy!

The Gloria Record--"The Gloria Record [EP]"

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Mon, 17 Sep 2012 01:09:00 +0000

The Gloria Record has to be my all time favorite fall/winter band. When I first bought their eponymous ep, I would head over to Barnes and Noble with a portable CD player (remember those) and listen to it while looking at books and drinking Starbucks. The Gloria Record originated in Austin, Texas and rose from theashes of the second wave "emo-band" Mineral. The video below is from Mineral's last show, ironically enough, at Emo's in Autsin.

Their entire first album, The Power of Failing, took a hold of me over the summer of 1997, and I could not get that tape out of my car. Someone gave me Mineral's album backed with a Christie Front Drive album. Anyways, the sincerity and truth behind Chris Simpson's lyrics and the noisiness of the music made me fall in love with the band. About a year after Mineral broke up, The Gloria Record released their self-titled ep. A departure from Mineral, the ep relied heavily on acoustic guitars and dreamy, sweeping arrangements. Part of the album's allure for the fall/winter comes from some of the lyrics. For example, growing up in the South, I always wonder when fall or winter will be here. Simpson sums that up with "It's the middle of October and you'd think there would be a nice cool breeze by now, but you'd be wrong." I remember when I went to a show in Lake Charles to see another offshoot from Mineral, Pop Unknown. At the show, some friends of mine were talking to a guy who gushed over The Gloria Record; he told them that he would roll his windows down in the winter and blast his air conditioner while listening to them. Now that's emo? If you haven't checked out The Gloria Record or Mineral, do yourself a favor and do it soon. Their final album, Start Here, is a masterpiece. For me though, their ep stands as my fall/winter choice. If you listen to the end of "Grain Towers, Telephone Poles" you will hear some of the influences on my guitar playing, specifically the octaves and fast strumming. I'll leave you with a song from Start Here. "Cinema Air" is a great song. It's about the encroachment of civilization onto nature as well as the solitariness of modern life.

Hayden's "Everything I Long For"

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 17:00:00 +0000

Yesterday, while driving Juliette to school and listening to the news, which Juliette hates to do, I heard a story on NPR about Indian Classical Music: "Another Reason Not To Sleep." The story talked about Indian music and the fact that there are different melodic scales for different times of day and different seasons. Of course, this reminded me of Vivaldi's The Four Seasons.Quickly, though, my thoughts went to the music I listen to in every season. Instead of thinking about it in relation to four seasons though, I usually think about the music I listen to in regards to spring/summer and fall/winter. Since fall is almost upon us, September 22, I decided to take the next few days to present my top ten albums for the fall/winter. I'm not ranking the albums in any particular order. I'm just presenting them as the ones I listen to when the weather starts to change.

Album 1: Hayden Everything I Long For (1995)

If you've never heard of Hayden Dresser, you don't know what you're missing. While I've never lived in an extremely cold environment during the winter, Hayden's music, and specifically his voice, makes me think about what it would be like to be snowed in with nothing to do but listen to music through long winter nights.

The first time I heard Hayden was on MTV's 120 Minutes, remember when they used to have good shows that actually played music. Anyways, the video for "Bad As They Seem" came on, and I immediately liked it. The song a detuned guitars and his low voice made him sound hypnotizing. "Bad as They Seem," in case you were wondering, is about a guy in Hayden's neighborhood who sat on his roof in a lawn chair all day. The song is Hayden thinking about what that guy was thinking while on the roof.

After getting Everything I Long For, the other songs started to stick out, especially to a sophomore/junior in high school. The standouts to me have always been "In September," "Stem," "Hardly," and "When This is Over" which is about Susan Smith. A few years ago, I used this song to show students what a ballad is, and it went over pretty well.

To conclude, if you listen to the whole album, not on Spotify, there is a great sandwich recipe at the end of the last song. Enjoy!

The Winter's Tale and The Fire Next Time

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Thu, 24 Mar 2011 01:37:00 +0000

Right now, I'm working on Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale (1611)in between chunks of The Faerie Queene (1590), Chartier's The Origin of the Book, and other miscellaneous works. As of right now, I've made it through the IV.3. So, I do not have anything substantial to say at this point; however, I have noticed a few things that I want to kind of point out so I will not forget them. To begin with, I am intrigued by Leontes' unsubstantiated jealousy concerning Hermione. He even becomes suspicious of one of his Lords, Camillo. This jealousy arises because Leontes enlists Camillo to kill Polixenes, Hermione's suspected lover. Camillo defaults and informs Polixenes of the plot, and they both leave Leontes' Sicilia under the cover of night. Leontes, enraged now, has Hermione arrested and put on trial. The trial proclaims her innocent; however, a prophecy also gets passed down, that Leontes will not have an heir until his "bastard" daughter is found. His son dies, and Hermione also dies.

What interests me here is the jealousy that Leontes feels. It really reminds me of Malbecco and his wife in Book III cantos ix and x of The Faerie Queene. Here, Malbecco fears that his wife, Hellenore, will run away with any man who enters his castle. She does, with Paridell. There is more to the story than this, but the idea of sequestering the maid and feeling jealousy without evidence to support the feeling really intrigues me. At the end of canto x, Malbecco actually turns into jealousy. Along with Malbecco, I also think about Leantio in Thomas Middleton's Women Beware Women (1616). Here, Leantio marries Bianca and essentially keeps her in his house while he is away because he is afraid of her possibly inconstancy. While he is away for work, she does get out of the house, with the help of Leantio's unwitting mother, and she does become inconstant by messing around with, and eventually marrying, the Duke.

In conjunction with the sequestered nature of women, I also started thinking about the idea of foundlings, especially since this concept appears over and over again in Spenser's epic with characters such as Arthur, Belphobe, and Amoret. What to make of this right now, I don't know, but I like the idea.

Finally, I really enjoy the fact that Act I of Shakespeare's play begins with Polixenes' to leave Sicila. Leontes cannot convince him to stay, but Hermione can. At the beginning of Act IV, after 16 years have passed, Camillo attempts to leave Polixenes and Bohemia. However, Polixenes convinces him to say. Along with this conjunction between the first and second halves of The Winter's Tale, I also found the Shepherd's opening comments in the play (III.3) interesting. He says,

I would there were no age between ten
and three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the
rest; for there is nothing in the between but getting
wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing,
fighting.

While these lines convey real wisdom from a rustic, they also, at least as far as I have read, convey a foreshadowing of Florizel's departure from court to visit Perdita. He's sixteen at the time. There may not be anything here, but I think the the Shepherd's comments then Polixenes' argument to keep Camillo in Bohemia have some type of connection. I could make something out of the pastoral setting, especially in relation to reading Spenser right now, but I will not.

The Fire Next Time

What can I say? Nothing really. Whatever I write here will utterly fail to do any justice to James Baldwin's words and ideas. So, I will begin with a brief clip from a speech he gave circa 1979 at UC Berkley.

When I get a better idea of what I want to say about the two work in The Fire Next Time, I will post them. Until then, let me know what thoughts you may have.

Driving Music

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Fri, 18 Mar 2011 03:09:00 +0000

Today, I didn't do a lot of reading. Instead, I took Juliette to her grandparents, and I got a chance to listen to some music on the way home. So, this post will just be videos of a couple of songs I listened to, some for the first time, and really like right now. To start off, I heard Brother Ali's "Fresh Air" for the first time. (Odd since I listen to a number of songs off of that album regularly. Anyways, I really like "Fresh Air" because it talks about being content and happy with your life. The video I found on Youtube is cleaned up lyrically, so enjoy.

The next song is Krs-One's "Outta Here."

Sage Francis' "I was Zero"

They Will Destroy You's "Quiet." I heard this at the end of the ESPN documentary on the Fab Five and really liked it.

Less Than Jake's "Johnny Quest Thinks We're Sellouts." I found the CD/DVD reissues of Losing Streak and Hello Rockview for $2 each at a Friends of the Library Sell. So, I listened to almost all of Losing Streak, singing very offe key to every song. Oh the memories.

Finally, The Everyday Visual's "Limb From Limb." I really like this video, so please enjoy and comment. I will return, in a day or two, with comments about literary works.

John Donne

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Thu, 17 Mar 2011 01:41:00 +0000

Before I get started talking about two or three of Donne's poems, I want to say that I have not looked at British sixteenth and seventeenth century for about five or six (since my M.A.). Coming back to it now, I am completely engrossed in it. Why? I don't know. I think part of it has to do with the teachers I had at ULM and the ones I have now at ULL. For some reason, they were, and are, some of the most enthusiastic teachers I have ever had, and that enthusiasm, of course, rubs off on the students.

Now, there are two poems I really want to talk about: "Hymn to God My God, in My Sickness" (1623?) and "A Valediction: Of Weeping" (1633). I may also sprinkle in a little of "The Flea" if it fits my fancy.

Upon first reading the poems, the use of maps and cartography drew my attention. In the second stanza of "A Valediction," which I believe was one of four poems speculated to be have been written about his wife's trip to the European continent in 1611, the image of freshly minted tear turns into a image of a globe:

On a round ball
A workman, that hath copies by, can lay
An Europe, Afric, and an Asia,
And quickly make that, which was nothing, all.
So doth each tear,
Which thee doth wear,
A globe, yea world, by that impression grow,
Till thy tears mix'd with mine do overflow
This world, by waters sent from thee, my heaven dissolvèd so.

The globe begins as an empty "round ball" that can become populated by the workman something. In the same way, the tears become something, a message of sadness at their departing. The other part that caught me here comes in the penultimate line of this stanza. In "The Flea," the lovers' blood mixes within the flea. Here, the tears mix, but I still got the same feeling. The two, separate, individuals become one. After the second stanza, the image of the globe disappears and a deluge comes about at sea. Since I am concerned with the cartography right now, I will move on.

Donne's "Hymn to God" also uses map imagery. It, supposedly, was written about 12 years after "The Valediction," Here, while the speaker, Donne, lies in bed sick, the doctors come in and look to him. the second stanza begins the map imagery. Here, the physicians become cosmographers:

Whilst my physicians by their love are grown
Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie
Flat on this bed, that by them may be shown
That this is my south-west discovery,
Per fretum febris, by these straits to die ;

The doctors map out Donne's body and trace his "south-west discovery." The south represents heat, and since the sun sets in the west, it represents death. From here, he moves to a discussion of the straits he must go through on his passage to the "holy room" he references in stanza one.

I joy, that in these straits I see my west ;
For, though those currents yield return to none,
What shall my west hurt me ? As west and east
In all flat maps—and I am one—are one,
So death doth touch the resurrection.

He can only travel one way through the straits to the west; however, the further west he moves, on a globe, the further east he travels also. So, does the movement east reflect the end? Or, does it reflect the beginning? What does all of this cartography mean? I have to assume that part of it has to do with the fact that England started colonizing America around this time. In 1607, settlers founded Jamestown. 1620 saw the Pilgrims arrive at Plymouth Rock, and in 1630, the Arabella, with John Winthrop, Anne Bradstreet, and others, arrived in Massachusetts.

Finally, if you are interested in this, the geography department at The University of Wisconsin has a cartography project and both of these poems are in it. Another tool to use if you are interested in Donne is Texas A&M's Digital Donne.

P.S. "A Valediction: Of Weeping" really reminds me of Blindside's "Across Waters" and "Across Waters Again."

Spenser and Venture Smith

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 02:50:00 +0000

Today has been a very eclectic day. First, I read Book II canto xii of Edmund Spenser's The Faerie Queene. I read this canto for class, and it is, in fact, the only canto I have read from Book II, so I cannot necessarily say a whole lot about its context within the narrative of Book II. However, I can discuss the aspects that caught my attention.

Book II relates Guyon's travels through, and eventual destruction of, the Bower of Bliss. Guyon's path to, and through, the Bower, echos Odysseus's travels in Homer's The Odyssey. Guyon and the Palmer, who I assume is Guyon's guide, must sail their boat through narrow straights to reach the Bower. The first section contains a whirlpool on one side and a rocky cliff on the other. These natural objects echo Homer's Charybdis and Scylla. Along with this, the mermaids recall the sirens of The Odyssey and the enchantress at the end of the canto recalls Circe.

To me, though, the character of the Palmer jumps out the most. In essence, he is a Christ figure and also part of Guyon's conscience. Taking in everything that Palmer does (calming the sees, continually subduing animals, and steering Guyon away from temptation) I cannot help but see this character as Jesus in control of a Christian's life. Along with this, the fact that Spenser relates the trek to the Bower over 40 stanzas in the canto, recalling Jesus' temptation in the desert, his forty days on earth after the resurrection, and other biblical references. What this means right now, I do not now, but I enjoyed it.

The second text I read comes from The Cambridge Companion to The African American Slave Narrative. It's an entry by Yolanda Pierce entitled "Redeeming Bondage: The Captivity Narrative and the Spiritual Autobiography in the African American Slave Narrative Tradition." The article examines Venture Smith's and George White's slave narratives. She begins, of course, by discussing the literary tradition of the captivity narrative and its relationship to the slave narrative. However, she does not mention one of the most well known captivity narratives, Mary Rowlandson's. This could be because she focuses on male authors. With the captivity narrative, Pierce examines Venture Smith's narrative. She focuses on the fact that Smith presents himself as a "self-made man" like we see in the captivity narrative, and she also discusses why we see such a focus from Smith on capitalism and wealth instead on specific protests against chattel slavery. Pierce argues that Smith gives us a great insight into African culture during the eighteenth century, especially in regards to family structure and wealth. Part of this insight possibly shows us why Smith does not necessarily attack chattel slavery directly even when he was slave. For example, Smith's father taught him honesty and integrity. As Pierce says,

Contrary to eighteenth-century sentiment, Smith does not embrace bondage because his African racial ancestry somehow makes him suited to it. He detests being a slave, but in his mind willful wrongdoing is far worse than forced captivity. (88)

She then proceeds to discuss the formative event in Smith's life and its relation to his narrative. This event occurs when European captors beat his father to death for not telling them where he hid his treasure. Part of what Smith does, Pierce argues, is build an "African village in a New World" (91) by buying his family and three other individuals out of slavery. In order to do this, he must have money. Perhaps the most important note I can take from the section on Smith deals with the reversal of the "savage" and the "civilized" that we see in the captivity narrative. Pierce writes,

Because of his [Smith's] formative instruction by his African family, Smith never believes that he is the one who is savage; he never believes that he is the moral of intellectual inferior of his captors; he never believes that his native home is uncivilized wilderness, and that his fellow African descendants are destined by God to be slaves for life. (91)

This reversal, of course, can also be see in Equiano's narrative. One aspect that I wish Pierce explored a little more, would be Smith's economic accomplishments and growth in relation to Benjamin Franklin's. I say this because Elisha Niles, Smith's amanuenses, compares Smith Benjamin Franklin and George Washington.

The second part of Pierce's article focuses on George White's slave narrative and its use of the spiritual autobiography tradition. Since I have not read White's narrative, I cannot say much about this section; however, I will point out items that I think are important. The section begins with a definition of the spiritual autobiography. Two items jump out in the discussion of White's narrative. One deals with the reason why White chose to continually attempt to receive his minister's license from the Methodist Church. It took him five attempts to finally acquire it. Pierce argues that he did this, instead of accepting his role as an exhorter, because "White desires the liberty to speak directly from the Bible, because to preach from this sacred text is to speak from a position of authority" (95). As an exhorter, White could not preach from the Bible. He had to base his teachings off of a minister's choice of scripture and words. He did not change denominations, Pierce proposes, because he wanted to preach to blacks and whites alike. If he moved to the African Methodist Episcopal Church, he would be limited to preaching to blacks. One of White's main beliefs was that we should be "enslaved to the righteousness of God" (96). As for White's lack of direct of attacks against chattel slavery, Pierce again points to a specific incident in White's life that accounts for this. Instead of focusing on the temporal existence of the earthly world, White focuses on the spiritual afterlife. Part of this focus could be because of the fact that he becomes removed from his mother, in the temporal realm, at a young age like many other slaves were. He sees her later in life, but they were unable to spend much time together. In the eternal afterlife, they will be able to spend eternity together. While Smith's and White's scenes point to the reasons the authors take the approaches that they do, Pierce acknowledges that these specific scenes, along with other instances, serve as ammunition against chattel slavery during the late 1700s and early 1800s.

The final text I looked at comes from The Norton Book of Composition Studies. Written by Geoffery Sirc, "Never Mind the Tagmemics, Where's the Sex Pistols" explores the convergence, or lack thereof, of composition studies and popular culture during the late 60s to late 70s, using Punk as a metaphor. I do not have time to go through this right now, so I will leave you with a video of The Sex Pistol. Online letters at CCC in response to Sirc.

Time to Change Things Up: Ben Jonson

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Wed, 09 Mar 2011 01:27:00 +0000

In about seven to eight months, I will take take my doctoral comprehensive exams: four tests in four weeks. For the past few months, or even the past year, I have been studying for these tests, reading primary and secondary texts in order to prepare for the insanity and stress that will surely infiltrate my being come September. Honestly though, the stress has already started to manifest itself in the form of nightmares and cold sweats; I'm very afraid to see what happen when the tests get closer. With that said, as I read texts, I want to use this space to collect immediate thoughts on what I just read. The thoughts will not necessarily be well thought out; they, in essence, will be initial reactions to the readings. I hope to post thoughts every day (that is very ambitious) or at least every other day. Let the madness begin.

Ben Jonson

This semester, I have been auditing a class on major authors of the British Renaissance. Up to this point, we have read five plays by Thomas Middleton, a few of John Donne's devotions, and various excerpts from John Milton. Along with these texts, I have started looking at Ben Jonson's plays (my first introduction to him). Earlier in the semester, I read Volpone (1605-06), a play that displays avariciousness at its most extreme. Volpone, since he has no heirs, decides to entertain himself by pitting three who desire his fortune against one another. Feigning death, Volpone has one of the men disinherit his son and he even has another one, Corvino, give him Celia, Corvino's wife. Comedy transpires, and the avarice nature of Volpone, Corvino, Carbaccio, and Voltore leads to their punishment at the end of the play.

Since I read this play about a month and a half ago, I do not have fresh thoughts in my mind about it; however, over that past few days, I have read Epicoene, or the Silent Woman (1609) and Bartholomew Fair (October 31, 1614). Reading these plays, I couldn't help but think about carnival and the carnivalesque. I assume I did this because this last weekend, and today, we celebrated Mardi Gras in south Louisiana. At any rate, specifically while reading Epicoene, I continually thought about the inversions found in carnival. The play centers around Morose and his nephew Dauphine. Morose has disinherited Dauphine, and Dauphine devises a way to return to his uncle's will. The whole of the play involves tricks, jests, and masks that work to reinstate Dauphine and some of the jests just serve as entertainment for the company of knights and collegiate ladies, nothing more.

In Epicoene, the two items that caught my attention in regards to carnival occur with the masking and with the inversion of gender roles. Masking, in the play, occurs throughout. However, one of the most evident links to carnival comes with the masking of Thomas Otter, a sea captain. In Act V, Morose wants to divorce, or at least annul his recent marriage to Epicoene. To see if this would be possible, Truewit, a knight who devises most of the jests in the play, tells Morose that he will find a diviner and a canon lawyer. Truewit disguises Otter as a diviner and Cutbeard, a barber, as a canon lawyer. During carnival, the sacred, or the natural order, becomes inverted. Down becomes up and vice versa. In this case, a lay person becomes a member of the clergy. Along with these masks, the key mask comes in the form of Epicoene (having the characteristics of both sexes). Throughout the play, Morose, and the audience, perceives Epicoene as female. However, this could not be further from the truth. She is, in fact, a boy dressed as a woman. Dauphine places the boy in a position to marry Morose. Through this trickery, Dauphine regains his inheritance from his uncle.

Epicoene's unmasking at the end also plays into the inversion of gender roles that run rampant throughout the play. The knights, La Foole and John Daw (Epicoene's servant), should be brave and masculine men; they, however, are effeminate. While trying to have fun at La Foole and Jack Daw's expense, Clerimont says,

Yes, but this fears the bravest; the other a
whiniling dastard, Jack Daw! But La Foole, a brave
heroic coward! And is afraid in a great look and a
stout accent. I like him rarely. (IV.v 244-47).

In contrast to the effeminate knights, the play contains strong, masculine women in the form of Thomas Otter's wife and Lady Haughty's collegiate ladies. Mistress Otter continually reminds her husband of her role in the marriage and how he should treat her. She repeatedly says that he needs to treat her as a princess. When he converses with the knights, away from Mistress Otter, Otter, being egged on by the knights, berates and puts down Mistress Otter. Overhearing his comments about her, Mistress Otter berates Otter and beats him in public. As for the collegiate ladies, the main thing I can think about with them deals with masking. Truewit, and other knights, even one of the ladies herself, Centaure (I believe), discusses the mask, make up, that a woman puts on to appear in public. The main inversion of gender roles comes in the form of Epicoene himself/herself. Since this boy takes on the characteristics of a woman, a strong woman at that, Epicoene serves as a masked character and an inverted one, in regards to gender roles. While I have not had the chance to read it yet, I am interested in reading David Cope's article discussing Epicoene and Thomas Middleton's The Roaring Girl: "Cross Dressing with a Difference: The Roaring Girl and Epicoene."

As for Bartholomew Fair, I am interested in the use of rhetoric, specifically when it comes to the disputation scene between Cokes and the puppet in Act V. Along with this, something may be made out of the carnival setting, Bartholomew's Day. Win, Littlewit's wife, is pregnant, adding to the carnivalesque imagery. The play contains comments on body parts and bawdy humor, both elements of teh carnivalesque. Another aspect of this play that I find interesting in the portrayal of Puritans. Jonson portrays Busy, to a certain extent, as a fool. His arguments against certain vices do not make much sense.

In conclusion, at least for now, I want to mention the connection between these two plays and Sir Philip Sidney. At the beginning of Epicoene, in a prologue, Jonson writes,

The ends of all who for the scene do write
Are, or should be, to profit and delight.

Of course, the purpose of poetry, and rhetoric for that matter, to teach and entertain comes from Horace. However, Sidney draws upon Horace and uses these two purposes in his Defence of Poesy. I would not mention this had it not been for the mention of Argalus, a character from Sidney's Arcadia in Bartholomew Fair. Since I am testing in British Renaissance and Rhetoric, I am interested in looking into the use of Horace in British Renaissance literature. I do not know, off the top of my head, the number of times Horace pops up in the two Jonson plays I have just discussed. That is all for now. Below, you will find a video of David Bevington discussing the collected works of Ben Jonson, enjoy.

The Future Beckons. . .

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 02:32:00 +0000

**Spoilers Ahead**

Yesterday, after a long and eventful escape to Renaissance Italy, I exacted revenge as Ezio Auditore. Taken as a whole, my adventure this time gave me a satisfaction far beyond the first Assassin's Creed, which saw me put it down before completing the game. This time around though I clocked almost twenty five hours in the Animus with plans on returning to search through the final Assassin's tomb and the rest of the glyphs.

Personally, I did not find Ezio's story extremely interesting. In fact, I found it lacking intrigue and originality. Denis Farr discusses the evolution of Ezio, which I agree with because I did not really feel a staked interest in this evolution. Instead, I saw my progress through the game as a means to an end, exacting revenge for the death on my father and brothers. However, unlike Farr, I did feel invested in finding the truth that encompasses Desmond's life. This angle drew me in. The glyphs, the codex, and the tombs. Going in to Ezio's, or Altair's, mind, I knew that I essentially became a puppeteer controlling another puppeteer (Desmond) who controlled Ezio.Farr says,

I would like to argue that Ezio is a compelling character, full of flaws, triumphs, an arc, but it means very little in this game. Even the ending sequence when Ezio reaches Minerva, he is succinctly told to shut up after he expresses confusion--this is not meant for him. At this point I actually frowned because I felt sorry for Ezio. This could have been his story, but really, it wasn't.

When I reached the end of Ezio's adventure and entered the vault, I expected an encounter with something or someone beyond the Renaissance or the present day. What I received didn't necessarily floor me, but it did peak my interest. Minerva's words served to remind me of my role in the game. I, in essence, control Desmond. The game doesn't necessarily present itself in this way totally, but the fact remains. If we go through the game taking this view, does it change the way we feel about Ezio and the other character? Right now, I cannot answer that question, but I would love to try to through discussion

The other part that grabbed me dealt with the fact that Minerva resides in the future or outside of space and time. The thought that future human incarnations (I am referencing Stapledon's Last and First Men)traversing the temporal/spatial plane to assist themselves and aid the past reminded me of Stapledon's Eighteenth Men. One of these men telepathically embodies the writer of the novel, relaying the future of mankind in all its various incarnations because the Eighteenth Men may be the last. Along with this, I feel that the messenger feels that history can be changed in order to save the final Men and continue their existence on Earth.

Listening to Minerva speak with Ezio (or really to Desmond which creates another interesting twist in player mechanics), I returned again and again to this book. The "gods" fear imminent doom for civilization, granted it's ours, and they want to try and advert it. However, instead of the disaster of war that we find in Stapledon';s book, Lucy suggests geomagnetic reversal (which I do not know much about). Interestingly enough, both of these works work with the idea that history moves in cycles. I plan to explore this further in the future. As for now, I wish to return to Renaissance Italy for a few more hours of exploration.

Insects in Brave New World

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 21:49:00 +0000

In the “Preface” for J. H. Burns’ A Vision of Education, Being an Imaginary Verbatim Report of the First Interplanetary Conference, published in 1929, Aldous Huxley begins to show the genesis of his ideas that appear in Brave New World. Jerome Meckier, in “A Neglected Huxley ‘preface’: his Early Synopsis of Brave New World,” traces Huxley’s ideas back to Helvetius’ educational philosophy. Within his philosophy, Helvetius thought that “[a]ny man [. . . ] could be made into a genius, for intellectually superior individuals are made, not born” (Meckier, 3). Huxley does not uphold this belief; instead, he presents us, in Brave New World, with the “iceberg” model. In this model, a small percentage of the society would be “genius” while the rest would consists of workers. In this arrangement, every individual would have a specific role that works for the betterment of society.

While Huxley presents the “iceberg” model satirically in the novel, he appears to hold to the idea that neither this model nor Helvetius’ thoughts (as demonstrated in the “Cyprus Experiment”) constitute ideal ways to proceed. However, he feels that the future will incorporate the “iceberg” model into its educational practices. He writes, in Burns’ “Preface,”

[children] would be allowed to develop only so far as was compatible with the advantage of the race. Any signs of outstanding individuality would be ruthlessly suppressed, or at any rate canalized in radically useful channels. Every art or compulsion and suggestion would be used to enforce the ethics of total self-abnegation. The systemic breeding of useful individuals and the systematic suppression of he useless would form a natural complement to this system of more than Spartan education. Special sub-species would be bred (and having been bred, specially educated) for the purpose, for example, of working in hot climates, at high altitudes, in the dark, under great atmospheric pressure; while other varieties would be produced by selection to perform specialized intellectual functions. (qtd. in Meckier, 8)

This creation of “[s]pecial sub-species” would lead to what Huxley refers to as a “termite-ideal.” With this ideal in mind, we can examine how Huxley’s use of insect imagery correlates to the overt loss of individuality presented in Brave New World.

Throughout the novel, the “self-abnegation” of the individuals in the society becomes apparent. Within a two page section, when Henry and Lenina fly on their “date,” Huxley refers to the different speeds of the helicopter as insect sounds: hornet, wasp, mosquito, bumble-bee, cockchafer, and stag-beetle (66). Along with the speeds of the helicopter, Huxley also produces insect imagery when Lenina and Henry see the “Red Rocket.” It “suddenly dropped [from a cloud as] a small scarlet insect, buzzing as it fell” (66). As they fly along, Lenina observes that the “green [in Central London park] was maggoty with fore-shortened life” (67). These references, while apparently superficial, help to reinforce the “termite-ideal” that Huxley presented in his “Preface.” By setting up the imagery of insects with insignificant items such as the helicopter, rocket, and grass, Huxley ends the two page aerial trip with a view of the shift change at the Television Corporation’s factory. Here, Lenina and Henry observe workers “[l]like aphides and ants” (67) changing shifts. At this point, the imagery transfers from the society’s tools to the individuals that participate within it. Huxley continues to draw upon this insect imagery near the end of Lenina and Henry’s date. He says, as the two fly home, “[t]he approaches to the monorail station were black with the ant-like pullulation of lower-caste activity” (76). This aerial view adds even more to the imagery being presented. With an elevated, almost god-like view, Henry and Lenina see an image of the society working as a single organism, and they do not feel bothered by the “self-abnegation” of the individual at all. Instead, they condone its actions and peer upon it from on high.

On the other hand, John, as he visits Linda on her deathbed, encounters a group of eight-year-old twins. As the group continues to file in towards Lind’s bed, “the ward was maggoty with them. They swarmed between the beds [. . . ]” (183). Again, Huxley employs “maggoty” and “swarmed” in describing a group of individuals within the society. They act as one, think as one, and suppress “any signs of outstanding individuality.” They, in effect, act as ants or termites working for the betterment of the colony. After Linda dies, and John makes his way out of the hospital, he encounters 162 Deltas waiting in a soma distribution line. Here, he notices “the nightmare of swarming indistinguishable sameness” (189-90). This reminds him of the twins who appeared as “maggots” as they “swarmed” around Linda’s deathbed. However, the Deltas looked like “[m]aggots again, but larger, full grown, they now crawled across his grief and his repentance” (190). Again, John sees the complete lack of individuality that this educational system supports.

The end of the novel returns to the insect imagery. Here, as John becomes pestered by onlookers and inquirers, he sees “the arrival overhead of a great swarm of helicopters” (226). As the aerial machines get closer, they appear as “locusts” or “giant grasshoppers” descending upon him. Interestingly enough, the views that John sees, when the insect imagery appears, counters Lenina and Henry’s view. Instead of viewing the events from above, as a type of social superiority, John views the actions from ground level, looking up at descending insects and interacting with them on the ground. What importance, exactly, does this difference in views have? At this point, I do not have an answer.

Huxley, throughout Brave New World, satirizes the movement of the educational system towards “self-abnegation.” With his use of insect imagery, both overtly referring to insects and using verbs and adjectives that we relate to insects, Huxley shows us that if things move forward the way they appear to be going that the “termite-ideal” will be reached. The attainment of this ideal, as we can see in the novel, does not provide much hope for the future.

Works Cited

Huxley, Aldous. Brave New World. New York: Harper Perennial, 2005.

Meckier, Jerome. "A Neglected Huxley "Preface": His Earliest Synopsis of Brave New World." Twentieth-

Century Literature 25.1 (1979): 1-20.

Commodification and knowledge

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 03:41:00 +0000

You know, I really can't say that these ideas, or philosophies, hold true for the entirety, or sections, of underground hip-hop today, because I do not have a deep knowledge of the musical genre. However, I believe I can say that the songs I want to discuss present ideas of knowledge and artistic responsibility that really have a strong resonance in society today.

For the past few years, I have really worn out Audition by P.O.S., and I believe that I have worn out his new album, Never Better, even more (it's only been out since February). Before I tackle "Let It Rattle," off of Never Better, I really want to say a few things about "Half-Cocked Concepts" from Audition.

This song, while politically charged at the opening, really encapsulates what appears to be a manifesto from P.O.S. The chorus screams it loud:

Get up
Get out
Get up
And get something done!

In the song, the last line has been misinterpreted as "and get fucked up." P.O.S. says he doesn't correct people when they make this interpretation because it still fits with the overall feel of the song.

After an intro that denounces Bush and gives props to the individuals who have supported him, P.O.S. gets into the meat of his message. The conclusion of the third stanza, "Just games for days, busy bees makin' our honey/ and skee ball tickets still don't count as real money," conveys the though that while we keep ourselves busy, working, and enjoying our luxury items (that we may not be able to afford), we do not have real funds coming in. Instead, we spend waste time that could be spent for better endeavors, in this case, art.

He proceeds, at least to me, to present the key argument for art I am encountering a lot in my Pound and Eliot class right now. P.O.S. raps,

It's somethin' so ridiculous,
Funny, so fuckin' sick of this,
Consistent lack of vision from children claimin' they're listenin'

Still I'm sittin' [can't decipher this word] and laughin' while they're all missin' this
There's still songs about bitches, from 9/11 witnesses

With these lines, he tackles the mentality of youth that says one thing, especially when it comes to knowledge and wisdom, but acts teh compelte oppisite, not learning anything from the teacher. In a broader context, this line could refer to the fact that most of us do not learn from what happens aroudn us. The key point for this idea occurs with "There's still songs about bitches, from 9/11 witnesses." Art to make money and gain popularity, not for change and social betterment.

Later on, he attacks, as he does with most of his targets, with compacted lines that speak volumes to the lsitener. He says, "A fool among the scholars/ Bumpin' somethin' about clubs, bubs, and hubs." Again, he appears to atatck commerical rap and the commodification of an art form. As for our obsessions with celebrities, he raps about "Jen and Ben" (one line, quick reference, that says it all). During the entire course of these "observations," P.O.S. counters them. To the former lines in this paragraph, he writes,

I got a message in a bottle
Written in gas and oil
Signed with a rag and a match
Here, catch!
Slap to rebel yell
The rebels fell, embedded in brick
Ain't no fuckin' marble memorial
For pissed off kids waitin' for Death Wish 6

The ones who coose to go against tthe grain, rbel, have no "marble memorial." Still, if we don't get up, get out, and get something done, none of us will be remembered.

It's getting late. Soon, hopefully, I will get to "Let it Rattle." Below, you'll find a live video of P.O.S. performing the song. Watch it, read the lyrics, and let me know what your thoughts are. I really like what he says at the beginning of the performance.

Along with these two songs, I really want to discuss Saul Williams' "Peadagogue of Young Gods." It is on The Inevitable Rise and Fall of Niggy Tardust. However, I need some more time to really look over this work. As a teacher, it really impacts me, but I know there is more to it. Right now, I really look at it from the angle of a teacher, especially in relation to some of my students who have never heard of any African American authors, and I am teaching in a area where Ernest Gaines resides. It blows my mind.

"Mineral: A Journey To The Past"

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 04:54:00 +0000

Today, I started looking at and listening to some of the older (when I mean older, about 12-13 years ago) music in my collection. During my perusal, I came across Mineral, a band from Austin, Texas during the mid to late 90's. If you've never heard of them before, do yourself a favor and check them out. Along with Sunny Day Real Estate, The Promise Ring, Jawbreaker, The Gets Up Kids, Texas Is The Reason, Boys Life, Christie Front Drive, and numerous others, Mineral took part in the emo scene of the 90's. While that, in itself, might peak the interest of some of you reading, that' snot what I want to write about. Instead, I want to take a moment and write briefly about how the music that these individuals created affected my life. Really, what their music has meant to me.

I remember the first time I heard The Power of Failing; it was during the summer of 1998, a year after it released. During that summer, I was doing summer missions, working at weekly camps around the state of Louisiana. At one of the camps, a worker, whose name I forget, gave me a tape. She possibly gave it to me after I mentioned Sunny Day Real Estate or another band that I liked. One one side, it had Mineral's The Power of Failing. The other side carried songs by Christie Front Drive. Needless to say, as I drove my 1996 Mazda Protege, which I still have, across the state, the tape continually played, along with some Deftones, Blindside, Bruce McCulloch, and others. Quick side note, if you have never heard Bruce McCulloch's (of Kids in the Hall fame) debut solo album Shame-Based Man, do yourself a favor and find it somewhere. I remember finding this album, finally, at a Barnes and Noble in Baton Rouge. Anyways, back to Mineral.

For some reason, The Power of Failing resonated very strongly with me, and it still does. The vulnerability in Chris Simpson's voice as he sings about humbleness, failing, love, desire, heaven, a more innocent time, and other emotions combined with the music fluctuations from all out feedback with pounding drums to swooning basses and lead riffs create an atmosphere that conveys the strongest of emotions in an encapsulated package. For some reason, the nature of the recording also helps. It's less than polished sound adds a mood of urgentness that is only exasperated by the combination of vocals and instruments.

I could go through this album, song by song, and point out what each one has meant to me, or what it means to me now. I don't want to do that though. Instead, I just want to briefly mention three songs. I'll do the same for their second album.

"Slower," the third song on the album, is driven by a four chord progression that carries the listener through the verses where Simpson sings of denial and facades that people put on to impress others. Moving to the chorus, the second guitar enters, disjointed, and brutal, somehow slapping this mask off the speaker. The song carries through a second verse and chorus, still littered with the disjunction found earlier. It ends with a melodic movement that dies down before a brutal assault of feedback and crushing guitars transcend the speakers and let the listener know that things are screwed up "when you wake up in the morning with a smile on your face because you know you lied yourself to sleep to make it better." As a side note, I really like the harmonics in this song too.

"If I Could," was (note the past tense) the song of a semi-hopeless romantic. It's always been a running joke that Emo is for whiny boys who seem to have lost, or never gotten, the girl. To a certain extent, yes, but a lot of music is about this. Anyways, this song doesn't really carry the weight with me that is used to, but I still like it. Somehow, Simpson moves the focal point of the song from a guy watching his romantic interest from a far, admiring her and wanting to tell her how he feels, into a song about the ability to praise God for allowing him to "live and breathe and wake each day." You know, this sentiment still carries weight. As I get older, I do realize how much of a blessing it is to wake up and spend time with the ones you love, including Zoe. So I guess this song still carries a little weight with me.

Finally, "Take The Picture Now," the ninth song on the album, really touches the spiritual aspects. To me, it's a hymn and prayer that needs to be sung at the top of your lungs. Beginning with a melodic bass that gives way to guitars, a drum roll, and vocals, "Take The Picture Now" paints a picture, albeit, the speaker's dream, of heaven. I could sit here and ramble on and on about what these lyrics and music mean to me, but it might be wiser to just print the lyrics here.

there are blue skies in my dreams and laughter that seems unending there are green grass fields there and happiness and hope for tomorrow my cup is full and my heart spills awkward and embarrassing blood onto white-golden streets and i am unashamed of the stains my steps leave tears stream down my cheeks only to meet their redeemer and be wiped away and there is joy ah there is joy.

There are from the Mineral lyric page at Crank Records. All of their lyrics are here. Anyways, this song leads me into their second album, EndSerenading.

This album still amazes me. The melodic vocal arrangements, time signature shifts, mood shifts, and over power that EndSerenading creates gives me goose bumps to this day. The production on this album is better, and it lets the music covey itself in a beautiful way. I don't remember when I bought this album, but I am sure I bought it, ordered it, as soon as it released. Anyways, let me delve into a few songs here to give you an idea of its feelings.

I guess I'll start off with the one that really gets me. "ALetter" is the seventh song on the album. I believe this song really gets me because it reminds me of my grandfather. Now, it hits me harder than it did when I first heard it. The speaker in the song is reminiscing about his grandfather or father. He sees a picture of the man returning home from war with a woman (wife) on his arm and a tattoo. The speaker even says that the face has been "weathered by places and days I'd never seen," and never will possibly. The song then switches to the speaker "reading and rereading the birthday card" he received when he was seven. It reminds him of the times they spent together.

I can say honestly, that this song almost brings me to tears, even now. You know it's been over ten years, and I still can't shake the fact that never did see my grandfather before he died. I remember being at my grandparent's house, being asked if I wanted to go see him, and not going. I was in college, so I should have been able to handle it, but I wasn't. On my way home from an orientation, I believe, for my summer mission trip, I had a premonition when I stopped to eat, at Burger King, in Natchitoches, LA that he had dies. When I got to my parent's house, saw a message on the machine, and listened to it, it didn't surprise me. Now, I regret all of the missed opportunities I had while he was sick.

I didn't mean for this to turn into a historical autobiography, but this topic gnaws at me more than I would like, especially now that I am getting older. I can sit here and say I would have done this, I would have done that, but would I? I don't know. Let me close this subject with one more image that have of that whole ordeal. I don't remember when this was, which time it was when my grandfather was in the hospital, what year, or any of that. All I remember is this. Sitting in a chair across from the hospital bed, I watched as my grandmother held my grandfather in her arms and stroked his head gently. At that moment, I knew what love was. They were married 50 (or 51) years, and they loved each other very much. My parents are about to celebrate 40, and I'm about to celebrate 10, in two years. Hopefully I can mature enough to grasp and experience the love they had for one another. That's not to say I don't love Melissa, but I am not to that completely unconditional stage that I have seen, felt, and experienced with my grandmother.

Ok, I'm not going to go back to the album, but I will say this. The last three songs are great hymns and praise songs, just like "Take the Picture Now."

After breaking up, Chris Simpson and Jeremy Gomez went on to form the Gloria Record, while Gabe Wiley went to Pop Unknown. I still remember buying the Gloria Record's first EP, at Best Buy or Blockbuster Music in Shreveport. I bought, went to Barnes and Noble, with my CD player (remember almost 10 years ago) and played it while reading. Once, when some friends and I saw Pop Unknown in Lake Charles, I believe, we ran into a scene kid who kind of freaked me out. Most of time, true scene kids freak me out; they get so obsessed with what they are experiencing that they take things to the extreme and act weird, even if they aren't on drugs. Anyways, this kid told us that during the dead of winter, granted it's Lake Charles, he would roll the windows down in his car, blast his A/C, and play Mineral just to really feel the music. To me, this was crazy.

Another story, after I met Melissa, we took a road trip to Dallas, actually Denton, to see Gloria Record at Rubber Gloves. Boy, was that a night. The opening band, Antarctica, ex-Christie Front Drive members, played forever, and the Gloria Record didn't play a long set, as usual when I saw them. Sometimes, it felt like a waste to travel so far to see them, but half of the fun of going to shows is the trip. Anyways, I remember driving home from the show. My friend Tim drove most of the way, from what I remember, and he left sun flower seeds everywhere. We stopped at my parent's house on the way through Bossier, we made it home to Monroe, after picking up doughnuts, and Melissa had to go to work at Sound Shop. Was it worth it? Yeah.

Now, to all of you who experienced Mineral with me, you're welcome for me introducing you to them. If memory serves me correctly, I showed them to you after that fateful summer of '98. Debate me and set me straight if I am wrong.

I really wanted to add a picture of my grandfather, but I couldn't find it, until today. It is of him during WW II, sitting on a snow bank, with a drink in his hand, and a sign behind him pointing to Paradise. Here's a picture of Juliette celebrating PaPi's birthday last week.

Richard Wright's Black Boy

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 23:12:00 +0000

So, it's been about a week since I've posted anything. During that time, I finished Brave New World by Huxley. Right now, there isn't a lot I could discuss at this point, apart from the focus on history and its clear use as inspiration for Orwell's 1984.

Instead, I want to use this post to identify a few thoughts I had while reading the first part of Richard Wright's Black Boy. During my reading of Wright's autobiography, and after watching parts of a PBS documentary on Youtube about Wright (there are 5 segments), that he took the nurture side in the nature vs. nurture debate. Continually, throughout the work, he stresses the effects that the environment lives in has acted to shape his, and others, personality.

When his family moved to Memphis in 1913, his father left them, thus causing his mother to care for Richard and his younger brother, Leon. His absence, as well as the absence of other male African-American authority figures that impact Wright in a positive way strikes me. In all of the books I have read this summer, I have noticed this trend. Grant, in A Lesson Before Dying, voices this problem and uses it to teach Jefferson. Now, in Wright's book, this absence would not seem strange to me if it was singular instance, but he even experiences the absence of his grandfather. The only time Wright's maternal grandfather appears, when the family lives with him and his grandmother in Jackson, is when Wright is in trouble. His grandfather must come out of his room, or wherever he is, and take action. The only other time we really see him is when he is on his deathbed.

The other African-American male figures in Wright's life do not really give him anything he needs. Aunt Maggie's husband is killed, her next husband leaves with Maggie, an uncle scares him to death, Uncle Tom tries to be an authority figure, but Wright rebels, and the principal acts as a puppet for the established ethical code. The only ones, of the male persuasion, who really give Wright useful advice are his peers. Griggs does this by telling him he needs to think before he acts.

In the absence of these male figures, the female ones take over. Wright is raised, almost entirely, by the female members of his family. Even then, his mother must be absent some times to work, leaving him and his brother to their own devices. During these times, Wright becomes a drunk at six, peeps on his landlady's sundry operations in her house, and gets into other mischief. Granted, he knows when he has done things wrong, he even says he does. However, the authority figures in his life do not appear to care. They know that he has gone against their expectations, and he must be punished.

In a way, the manner in which the women in his life treat him reminds me of the episode near the end of the section where Harrison and Richard are coaxed into fighting by their white employers. He writes, "The hate we felt for the men [employers] whom we had tried to cheat went into the blows we threw at each other" (243). This action becomes reminiscent of the beatings Wright receives from the female figures in his life. He always has a hard time broaching the topic of race with his mother; she skirts the subject and he knows it. There is always this air around them that constricts their feelings, even for one another. When Wright is punished for his transgressions, no matter how minor, this pain and hate that the authority figures feels appears to be transferred to him through the punishment.

On a different note, it's interesting to look at Wright's use of words and his dedication to their meaning. In the first few chapters, he writes numerous lines, recalling blues verses, that describe his daily life. For example:

The days and hours began to speak now with a clearer tounge. Each experience had a sharp meaning of its own.
There was the breathlessly anxious fun of chasing and catching flitting fireflies on drowsy summer nights.
There was the drenching hospitality in the pervading the smell of sweet magnolias. (45).

Here, and later, Wright uses quick snippets to provide information for his formative years his surroundings. He only does this when he is younger. As he ages, these instances of a page or two of descriptive phrasings vanishes.

On another occasion, he appears to subvert the very act that is occurring around him by using language that precisely contradicts the scene. When he goes to the revival meeting with his grandmother, he tells her that he would consider salvation and belief if he sees an angel. She misunderstands him and tells the pastor that he has seen an angel. During his realization of this problem, he says uses blasphemous language in the narrative as if to subvert the setting and meaning of the scene.

Another instance, shows his use of manipulating language when he writes a letter to the librarian so he can check out books by H.L. Mencken. Jerry W. Ward Jr., in the introduction, writes, "Not only does [Wright] forge (the dual meaning seems intended) his own notes to borrow books, but he names himself "nigger" to insure his success" (xviii). In all actuality, Wright has learned to bend and play with rules and edicts of the South better than his peers. Instead of letting a white man kick him in the butt for a quarter, like Shorty, Wright uses his knowledge of the system to his advantage without being disgraced in the process.

In conclusion, I would really like to explore some more ideas in the book, even though I don't have time. For one, the idea of playing a role within set constructs appeals to me. Also, it would be interesting to examine the nature of Wright's peer to peer relationships, especially in today's light. Through my experience, these mentalities still exist, in different forms. His classmates always wonder why he writes, they always tell him how to act so he won't be killed, and ultimately, they, and his family, isolate him because he is different.

In conclusion, this song, for some reason, reminds me of some of the topics I want to explore further. Mainly, it relates to the Wright's drive and his ability to look beyond the current situation. Take a listen and let me know what you think.

P.O.S.--"Purexed"

Summer Music

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Wed, 05 Aug 2009 04:13:00 +0000

Alright, I thought I would make this post semi-educational and fun. I've really been listening to good new and old albums this summer, and I thought I would share a few with you here.

mewithoutYou--It's all crazy! It's all false! It's all a dream! It's alright!

Ok, I must start off by saying that have gravitated towards about 4-5 songs on this album. That's usually how it goes with mewithoutYou and me. When I have listened through the entire album, I have enjoyed it. However, there are a few songs that truly stand out to me.

"Every Thought a Thought of You"
Really, this song really grabs me from the beginning, the keys and drums leading into the vocals. As with a lot of the band's songs, this one really hits me as a praise song. I'm not one for praise and worship music, instead, I gravitate towards songs that praise God but deviate from the Sunday morning contemporary worship songs. A great opening song.

"The Fox, The Crow, and The Cookie"
This is Melissa's favorite song on the album. It's a whimsical song that tells the story of a fox who tries to steal a treat from the baker's cart. Instead, the crow, seeing the baker traveling throughout the town, swoops down and steals a treat. He succeeds, and the baker uses "most unfriendly words, that the village children had not yet heard." The fox goes to the crow to ask for a piece of the treat because the fox distracted the baker. This plead failed, so the fox plays off of the crow's ego. He asks to hear the crow sing. The crow, being boastful, obliges and drops the cake. At this point, the orchestration really creates a vision of the fox and crow struggling for the treat. The video at the end of this section is a live performance of this song.

"The Angel of Death Came to David's Room"
Starting off quietly, with an acoustic guitar and vocals, it relays a fictitious story of Davis being visited by the Angel of Death. David, of course, tells the Angel that his time has not come, yet the Angel asks David where all his relatives and ancestors are. He says he slew Goliath, but the Angel doesn't care. What really stands out to me is the idea of this song. Even the mightiest of men will ultimately die, whether it's painful or solemn, they will die.

"The King Beetle on a Coconut Estate"
This song is my favorite one on the album. It's a fable that starts out mellow and increases to a booming crescendo. The beetles see a fire set by the workers on the coconut estate. The beetle king summons his men and asks them to travel to the "great light" and return with a report. The first volunteer is a professor, who says he will "be back both successful and proud." When he makes it back though, his wings have been burned and he has to crawl towards the king. The king, frustrated, sweetens the deal with a ring. The next volunteer, a lieutenant, steps out and says he will "earn the king's favor and one day all he [the king] has will be mine." He also returns defeated. Neither the science nor brute strength could determine what the great light is. after and orchestral interlude, the full band kicks in, and the king, at this point, becomes frustrated and says he will exam the light himself. He gathers his kids and tells them that "you've all called me your dad, but your true dad's not me. I lay next to your mom, and your forms were conceived. Your father's the light within all that you see." The light, obviously, has a relationship to God. The king, through faith, must be "utterly changed into fire." What really makes this song beautiful is the orchestration.

"Allah, Allah, Allah"
Plain and simple, a praise song. I read some reviews of this album that said some of the songs sound like campfire songs. Well, this one does. I really love this song for its simplicity and honest nature. Also, I love the fact that I can play it in the car and Juliette will sing along with it, almost word for word.

Rancid--Let the Dominoes Fall

Nothing beats a good punk album during the summer. There's not much that I could say about that band that probably hasn't been said before. So, I will just provide a quick anecdote. Recently, I've been listening to the CD in the car with Juliette, sans the songs with cursing. One day I told her that we were listening to Rancid. Since then, she recognizes the song, "L.A. River," and any other Rancid song I put on. Two days ago, Melissa, Juliette, and I were driving somewhere. I asked Juliette who was playing, she said, "Rancid." Then, I asked her if she liked Rancid. She said, "I like Rancid." Well, Melissa just cringed. This is coming from the three year old that like The Showdown at two.

The album has some really good songs: "Last One to Die," "Up To No Good," "Disconnected" (a good metaphor for the U.S), "New Orleans," "Civilian Ways" (about Tim's brother), "The Bravest Kids," "Skull City," "L.A. River," and all of the rest. The album is great. If you've never listened to Rancid, check em out. If you love a good bass player, you really need to check them out. Matt Freeman is one of, if not, the best I have ever heard.

It's getting late. I'll try to post a few more albums tomorrow.

"Burning Clean"

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 00:37:00 +0000

Where should I even begin with Ernest Gaines' A Lesson Before Dying? Honestly, I don't know. As I said in the previous post though, this blog will contain my thoughts, that upon further discussion and thought, will aid me in my graduate studies. So, I think I'll just jot down a few of my observations and thoughts.

One of the major ideas that has really struck me with Gaines' work, this includes Of Love and Dust and some of the stories in Bloodline. In A Lesson Before Dying (ALBD), Grant, from the beginning, has lost his faith in God. Granted this faith is in the "white God," as he says. Even though, he has turned his back on the faith of his Aunt, the woman who raised him when his parents left. This, of course, creates the interesting dynamic when it comes to religion throughout the course of ALBD. On the one hand, Grant has lost faith in God, and everything else for that matter, even himself. On the other hand, he used to have some semblance of faith, coming from his relatives and the other elders in the quarter. What does this actually mean?

For one, it comes across as a conflict between the older and younger generation. The older, raised in slavery grasped onto Christianity and intermingled it with African traditions. It provides them with a feeling of hope, that something better awaits them on the other side of Jordan. Grant sees this in Reverend Ambrose. Even though Grant cannot believe, he understands the importance. When Ambrose tries to convince Grant to talk to Jefferson about his soul, they have this exchange:

"I want him in heaven as much as you do. Reverend"
"A place you can't believe in?"
"No, I don't believe in it, Reverend."
"And how can you tell him to believe in it?"
"I'll never tell him not to believe in it." (217)

Grant sees the importance of these beliefs. They are what keeps the people going. It's hard for me to say definitively if Grant, at the end of the novel, regains his faith. To me, he doesn't. However, he begins to have faith in other things: his future, his role in life, and the small things that he can do to make the lives of those around him better.

Religion, in this context, could also be seen as a negative influence on the community surrounding Grant and Jefferson. They have seen and encountered numerous things that have caused them to loose their faith. Jefferson, in his notebook, tells us about Samson asking God why his wife had to die and others lived. He tells us about Boo running through the streets drunk and cursing God. The promise of and education that will benefit the mass majority in the African American community has failed. How can these individuals believe when they have been through so much, including being arrested and called "a hog?"

One final note on religion leads me to my next observation. While listening to the 'Termination songs one Sunday, Grant talks about his loss of faith. He says, "I did not have time for anything else [except studying]" (102). Education has usurped religion as a means of salvation, but it hasn't produced any fruit, in Grant's mind, either.

As a teacher, Grant feels that he has not, and cannot, make a difference. He looks forward to the day when he can leave with Vivian and never look back. All of his former classmates, and possibly some of his students, either moved North, were arrested, or worse. He received an education, at a university, but it still has not done anything for him. The superintendent of schools even views the Grant's school as only being useful for one thing, producing reputable individuals who can work the fields. When he comes to inspect the school, for his yearly visit, he examines the children like slaves. When he leaves, he reminds Grant to stress hygiene and nutrition.

My final observation could lead to an essay that encompasses other works. It involves the definition of a hero. Jefferson, in the end, epitomizes a hero for the community, a tangible expression of an idea shared by a group of individuals. This up close, personal hero contrasts with the other heroes that Grant hears discussed and brings into the story. One night, at the Rainbow Club, he overhears some older men joking and talking about Jackie Robinson's exploits. Jackie Robinson, while a hero, has no personal connection with the people in the story. In the same way, Grant relates the story of Joe Louis. After his first defeat to Schmeling, the whole quarter mourned as if he had died. Upon his second fight, and win, against Schmeling, the quarter erupted. He even recounts the story of a boy in Florida being dragged to the electric chair and pleading for Joe Louis to save him.

Ultimately, while these men are heroes and carry ideas and hopes of people with them, they do not have the same impact as individuals who have a personal stake in each others lives. Grant, while not trying to be a hero, recognizes this with his Aunt and with Emma. He treats them respectfully, even when he doesn't want to, and they know he doesn't. He knows what they have been through, to a certain extent and sees the hurt that Emma is going through now. He even sees why Jefferson needs to be a hero, not just for Emma, but for everyone. "A hero," according to Grant, "is someone who does something for other people" (191). Grant knows that Miss Emma needs Jefferson to walk to the chair a man, and Grant knows that he needs Jefferson to do the same thing. Jefferson's ultimate act of walking to the chair, and "never saying a mumbling word," with his shoulders back, constitutes a hero. He proved he was a man.

Of course, there are more points that I could talk about, but those are just a few that really caught my attention. Read Stavesacre's "Burning Clean" for an idea of what this novel conveys to me. Next, I will begin Aldous Huxley's A Brave New World.

The next post will contain some family and music stories.

It's Been A While

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 04:39:00 +0000

Well, it's been about 9 months since I have posted anything, if anyone has read what I've posted so far. Right now, I think I'm going to turn this blog into a mixture of different things.

1. My work for graduate school. While I'm reading, I will post my thoughts and ideas here.

2. A place to keep you up to date on my music with Via Delarosa.

3. My family and happening with them. For more in depth discussions on this topic, go here (Melissa's blog).

Well, I completed mixing a rough version of a new song tonight, cut the yard, and am about to start reading A Lesson Before Dying. Tomorrow, I will have a more in depth post.

Juliette helping me mow the yard. Now if the little plastic toy would only cut grass for real!

The past few times we've been to Wal Mart, Juliette has pointed out this little lawn mower, that supposedly blows bubbles while she mows. We haven't experienced the joyful flow of bubbles, yet. Anyways, on our last family trip to the big blue box, Uncle Chad came with us. While Melissa was filling a prescription, we decided to take Juliette to the toys. Once we made it to the back of the store, she looked around, as usual, and I pointed her towards the $45 Little Tikes basketball goal. Her friend in West Monroe has one. I told her, "If you can carry the goal to the front of the store, Mommy and I will buy it for you." Well, she jumped at this proposition and preceeded to try and remove the oversized box and its contents from the shelf. I helped her place the box on the ground then restated my proposal. Uncle Chad, seeing Juliette struggle with the box, advised her to push the box. She tried, and failed. Then, Chad showed her how to push it forward. Needless to say, a few minutes later, we arrived at the front of the store, with the goal. However, when Mommy arrived, she refused to buy the goal, and I had to return the goal to its proper place on the store shelf, at the back of the store. Mommy did allow Juliette to buy the lawn mower though, and she was happy.

You can purchase our debut EP here.

Aesthetically Speaking

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Sun, 26 Oct 2008 22:30:00 +0000

Recently, I've been thinking about the aesthetics of art: visual, auditory, etc. This week on CSI , the team dealt with an artist who killed his victims and posed them as statues. In the criminal's mind, and some other individuals', the victims became artistic expression. However, grotesque, morally objectionable, or downright villainous the process may have been, the "artist" made a work that he would be remembered by. In many ways, this reminds me of Sander Cohen in Bioshock. He does the same thing, creating art out of the dead, and along the way, asking you to assist, in order to produce his magnum opus.
Ultimately, this comparison leads me to the one thing that has started to garner my interest in the past few years: video games as visual art. I will probably post other blogs on their importance their literary merits. One of the new documentaries for Gears of War 2, "Making Gears 2: A Pixel is Worth 1,000 Words," addresses this thought, with the developers comments. Of course, this argument has occurred before, but I believe it's interesting in this case, because of the game. The first Gears looked amazing, creating an atmosphere of "decaying beauty." I don't remember the exact words that Cliff used, but those sum it up. The team wanted the landscape of Sera to carry the weight of an old world and a modern war: diminishing culture. The only difference between Gears and "traditional" visual art arises in the method that one interacts with the work.
A video game gives the gamer (admirer) the ability to interact with the world in full. He or she can delve into the story, overlooking the minute details, like the way the grass sways back and forth in Far Cry 2 or the way the sheep wander aimlessly in Brothers in Arms: Hell's Highway. The player could also overlook the magnificent effects that encompass the day-night revolutions in Grand Theft Auto IV, along with the spectacular moon. In all honesty, the player can do what he or she wants. Ultimately, in order to appreciate the game as a visual art the player needs to stop, explore, and take in the breadth of the world.
I know that more can be said about this, but I am tapped out at this point. I would just like to leave you with the new trailer for Gears of War 2. It brings to mind the "Mad World" trailer for the first game; however, this one has a more beautiful feel, in my opinion. Here is the "Last Day" trailer.
In closing, the next post will explore this discussion in more detail, based on a thought by Ranier Maria Rilke on art. In his letters on Cezzane, Rilke writes,

Surely all art is the result of one's having been in danger, of having gone through an experience all the way to the end, to where no one can go any further. The further one goes, the more private, the more personal, the more singular an experience becomes, and the thing one is making is, finally, the necessary, irrepressible, and, as nearly as possible, definitive utterance of this singularity. . . Therein lies the enormous aid the work of art brings to the life of the one who must make it,--: that it is his epitome; the knot in the rosary at which his life recites a prayer, the ever-returning proof to himself of his unity and genuineness, which presents itself only to him whil appearing anonymous to the outside, nameless, existing merely as necessity, as reality, as being--.

"A Good Man is Hard to Find"

noreply@blogger.com (Mineral9) — Fri, 24 Oct 2008 02:49:00 +0000

Here, you will find an essay I worked on last summer. I tried to get it published; how ever, I did not have any success. At some point, I will go through and rework it to hopefully resubmit it to a journal again. In a week or two, I will post an essay on The Blood Brother's "The Salesman, Denver Max" and its relationship to Joyce Carol Oates' "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" For now, enjoy this essay on O'Connor's "A Good Man Is Hard to Find."

Equality in “A Good Man is Hard to Find”

During my first reading of O’Connor’s “A Good Man is Hard to Find,” I struggled with the ubiquitous nature of sin, from the children’s disrespectful nature to The Misfit’s blatant killing of the family, which pervades the work. The grandmother’s “minor” missteps that undercut her grasp of true salvation puzzled me the most. While she continuously laments the fact that good individuals have become few and far between and perpetuates the belief that she, in fact, lives a good life that will see her into heaven, she reveals herself as one of the “soul[s] in this green world of God’s that you can [not] trust” (122). Obviously, one could argue that she receives salvation and entrance into heaven at the end of the story: she “half sat and half lay in a puddle of blood with her legs crossed under her like a child’s and her face smiling up at the cloudless sky” (132). However, the crux of this salvation really comes from the fact that the grandmother, while putting on airs, does not attain salvation until seconds before she dies. Her sin causes her death, and her salvation does not come through her hypocritical ways.

I could have just concluded with the message of salvation coming “through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is a gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9). If I placed the story aside and left it, I would have missed the more important point: sin, no matter the severity, causes death. Upon first reading, I did not grasp the equality of sin in relation to death. When I discovered Sufjan Stevens’ song, “A Good Man is Hard to Find,” I started to realize that I had missed a deeper meaning hidden within O’Connor’s story. Stevens constructs his song from the Misfit’s point of view, until the final stanza, which comes from the grandmother’s. Placing both characters’ points of view in the same song, sung in the same voice, Stevens’, lead me to reexamine the story with his lyrics in mind.

Stevens’ song opens with a stanza told from The Misfit’s point of view. He sings, “Once in the backyard, / she was once like me,/ she was once like me.” Here, the Misfit compares the grandmother to himself, and he goes on to say, after he murders the family, that “they were once like me,” thus saying the same about the rest of family. The second stanza continues in the same way, describing the murder itself: “Hold to your gun, man,/ and put off all your peace,/ put off all the beast.” The second stanza, in closing, repeats The Misfit’s sentiment that “[s]he was once like me.” As the third stanza opens, Stevens switches perspectives to the grandmother. She says, “I once was better./I put off all my grief./I put of all my grief.” Of course, this matches with the grandmother’s attitude in O’Connor’s story. She perceives herself as a superior individual to those around her, even saying she cannot trust anyone because no good individuals remain. At the end of the song, Stevens’ grandmother goes to hell, not heaven. Of course, Stevens does not make this the central argument. He makes it abundantly clear that part of the message he receives from the work, and the one that he wants to convey, centers on the biblical teaching that “all have sinned and fall[en] short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). Tied in with this idea, O’Connor also presents the reader with the message from Romans 6:23: “the wages of sin is death.”

Upon rereading O’Connor’s story, with this new focus, I discovered the same idea. The Misfit, while a dubious character, speaks truthfully in his conversation with the grandmother, especially when it comes to the idea that all have sinned and require punishment. When the grandmother asks The Misfit about his incarceration, he responds by telling her, “I found out the crime don’t matter. You can do one thing or you can do another, kill a man or take a tire off his car, because sooner or later you’re going to forget what it is you done and just be punished for it” (130-31). Through this statement, The Misfit draws a concrete correlation to both passages in Romans. In saying that “the crime don’t matter,” he tells the grandmother that “all have sinned.” When one becomes “punished for it,” his or her sin causes death. Before the grandmother’s ultimate demise, The Misfit poses one final question to her. He asks, “Does it seem right to you, lady, that one is punished a heap and another ain’t punished at all?” (131) By asking this question, he restates the same ideas proposed earlier, and he causes us to view his sins as a criminal and murderer and the grandmother’s minimal sins as equably punishable by death.

Ironically enough, O’Connor presents us with more correlations to Romans 6:23, in the most unlikely place: the children’s names. O’Connor places the number six throughout the story, five to six graves, six columns on the house, and six family members. She also gives us the numbers twenty, “twenty minutes to reach the outskirts of the city” (118), and three, men in the car and shots that kill the grandmother. However, these numbers do not correlate into a reasonable pattern. The only pattern that works presents itself in the children’s names. To begin with, John Wesley contains both six and twenty three in his middle name. Wesley contains six letters, and “w” is the twenty third letter in the alphabet. While this may appear to be a coincidence, it gains more credibility when compared to June Star’s name. June, of course, is the sixth month of the year. During June, John the Baptist’s birthday is observed, on June 24^th. Part of this celebration also takes place on Midsummer’s Eve, June 23^rd. June’s middle name, Star, relates to the thought that John the Baptist represents a morning star to Christ. He came before Christ to prepare the way: “I [John] am not the Christ but am sent ahead of him. . . He must become greater; I must become less” (John 3:28-30). It could also be added that John the Baptist relates to John Wesley through their respective names.

In “A Good Man is Hard to Find,” O’Connor presents us with two extremes of sin. On one hand, the grandmother, according to our hierarchical ranking of sin, appears to be good, or at least a minimal sinner. The Misfit, on the other hand, commits murder, one of the highest ranking sins on our scale. However, O’Connor informs us that neither one of the individuals, no matter the difference we may see in them, can escape the punishment of sin. She shows us that death comes to a liar the same as it comes to a murderer.

Works Cited

Life application Study Bible: New International Version. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1997.O'Connor, Flannery. "A Good Man is Hard to Find." The Complete Stories. New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux,

1971. 117-133.

Stevens, Sufjan. "A Good Man is Hard to Find." Seven Swans. Sounds Familyre, 2004.