My TO-DO list grows faster than I can check things off. When I walk into a Barnes & Noble the wide-eyed excitement I feel inevitably gives way to a bit of desperate apprehension when I realize that I will never be able to read every book that I want to. I hate sleeping. Such a waste of time. I only do it because if I don’t I’ll be able to get even less done the next day. I have so many ideas. Things I want to do, to learn, to teach, to create. But I never have time for it all.

24 hours in a day…
I need about 100

I was thinking about good story tellers. My Grandpa comes to mind (doesn’t everyone’s?). I always find myself riveted when he tells stories about he and his brothers who served our country in the Navy in World War II. Such vivid details from an understandably unforgettable experience. I will never have the same experiences he did. I can only live one life – my own. But I like hearing about his.

Probably for the same reason that people love movies so much. You can step into a theater for 2 hours, and if the film is well done you lose yourself and come out feeling like you just lived through what the on-screen characters did. I think good music does the same. It makes us feel something. It can take us somewhere. In fact, the same song can take different people to different places. And if you want to go back, you can just play the song again. And who hasn’t lost themselves in a good book? I didn’t read The Hunger Games, but if I did it would’ve been because I wanted to have the experience of fighting for my life in a post-apocalyptic survival skills tournament.

I’m thankful for music. And for movies. And books. I’m thankful for people that tell me stories and let me live part of a life that I won’t get to live. Because for me at least, one life is not enough.

every minute every second
just submitting to the pressure
sitting here sifting through the wreckage
of another stupid checklist
my burdens provoking me
feels like time is choking me
a rope necklace, so relentless
get up out of bed then off to work
I wish I could stop this clock work
take a rock and smash those hands
make them ticks and tocks hurt
see what power the hour has
after I shatter the hourglass
the sand drops…
I stand and watch

- from “Never Enough” on The Meridian of Rhyme

The first official video from the new album.

If you are reading this you have computer and you like music, so chances are that you’ve heard of Pandora. If not, it’s a website/app that works like a radio station, only it does a really good job of playing music that you like. You just give it the name of one of your favorite artists and it does the rest, providing a constant stream of music catered to your personal musical tastes.

How does it work? Very meticulously actually, powered by something called the Music Genome Project. A bunch of musically trained people listen to every song accepted into the project and analyze it based on 400 musical characteristics with the goal of identifying specific “genes” that capture the unique and magical musical identity of a song. Pandora matches these genes with other songs with similar genes, and the result is a stream of music that you are pretty much guaranteed to enjoy.

They recently added me as an artist and The Meridian of Rhyme went into the project. So of course I had to create a “Qwiet” station and see what other artists and songs they played alongside mine. There were some surprises and some artists that I’ve never heard of but do have things in common with, but I was happy that some of the artists I really respect came up, like Shad, Braille, and Lupe Fiasco to name a few.

And that got me thinking.

What if our lives were like one big album that we’re making? What if when we die a bunch of people highly trained in such matters analyze our greatest hits (and misses) and create a Pandora-style radio station based on the eternal identity that we’ve forged for ourselves? Which people’s songs would play on your station? Who’s station would you want your songs to be played on?

In other words, where will your life story fit in the Human Genome Project?

Meridian:
a) a point or period of highest development, greatest prosperity, or the like.
b) conveying the thought of a principal division of time or space.
Rhyme:
a) identity in sound of some part, especially the end, of words or lines of verse.

The most significant time in the history of our world was the birth, life, and atonement of our savior Jesus Christ. Because of this and because we chronicle all events in history based on whether they occurred before or after it, true to the above definitions it is sometimes referred to as the Meridian of Time.

I’m pretty sure this album won’t cause the people in charge of deciding such things to redefine our method of delineating time. Nor do I think it’s the highest form of music in any way, and I certainly don’t expect it to bring prosperity. So what is The Meridian of Rhyme?

As you can tell from the artwork, there are obviously elements of division and contrast. Darkness and light. Good and evil. Pleasure and pain. Joy and sorrow. Night and day…

We all experience both sides, and we often find ourselves on the meridian. We can choose good or evil. We can choose gloom or illumination. We can find the bright side of our trials and tribulations or fall into the abyss of self-pity. We can be victims of the night or heroes of sunshine.

The Meridian of Rhyme is about change. Change for the better. Making some choice that from this time forward, I’m going to be better in some way.

Hopefully this music can turn something dark into something light for someone. Hopefully someone finds something beautiful from somewhere unexpected. Maybe from themselves. Hopefully a simple truth is realized. Hopefully someone learns something about the world and their place in it in a moment of reflection. Hopefully The Great Deception of the mainstream media machine is exposed in some way.

Hopefully someone finds a song they can put on to get them through a hard day, or a hard year. Hopefully someone finds a song that brings a smile, and maybe another that brings a tear. Hopefully a head nods. Hopefully someone can relate.

Hopefully someone can see themselves as the bright colors breaking out of the shadows, creating life they never thought possible. Hopefully someone is inspired to try a little harder, or run a little further, or hold on a little longer.

Hopefully it means things I never thought it would mean.

Hopefully it means something.

—

changing the world is breaking me
but breaking free is changing me
gotta keep moving forward
my people – moving for ‘em
let’s see some new horizons… new forms rising

- from “Never Enough”

I will be following up with more details so stay tuned. In the meantime, hit me up on facebook.

This team means a lot to you, and you are dedicated. Throughout the year you spend every spare moment you can with the players. Usually you work one-on-one with them, spending hours and hours in the gym, on the playground, anywhere there’s a hoop. You make them do drills. You see them getting better. Sometimes they disappoint you. Sometimes they amaze you. Sometimes you practice for hours and you don’t make any progress at all. If anything, it looks like they’ve gotten worse.

You sacrifice time with your family in an effort to make these players the best they can be. Often the players confide in you, and in the role of counselor and friend you stay up late with them, giving them as much time as they need. You spend entire weekends with them traveling to exhibition tournaments.

In these experiences you laugh together. You cry together. You share moments and make memories. You become close. Each player becomes part of your life. Part of you. You love them. You want them to succeed more than anything.

Time passes and the season is now upon you and your team. One day someone hands you an official roster form to fill out. Team Name… Coach’s Name… easy stuff. You see that there are 12 rows on the form for player names.

But you have 18.

You knew pretty well who your starters would be, and who would probably be the first few off the bench. You knew some players would see less playing time – that’s just part of the game. In the back of your mind you knew there were only 12 on a team (this isn’t your first coaching job after all), but throughout the past year you’ve grown close to ALL your players. So close that you forgot that they can’t all make the team.

Now what do you do? How do you decide who makes the team? Do you exclude those with less talent and more heart, or vice-versa? The one who can’t make free throws but hustles like crazy? The one who can hit the 3 but doesn’t try hard on defense? Some people tell you that #7 is good. Some people don’t like #7 but love #3. #8 can rebound really well but turns the ball over too much. You have a special bond with #13 but deep down you know he’s not good enough. #5 had special circumstances and you had to spend more time and a lot of your own money on him. You brought in assistant coaches to help you with #9… and so on.

It goes deeper than all of that though. You’ve invested so much in each player that quantitative judgments can no longer be made. Every decision is personal. Every player you cut feels like cutting part of yourself away.

—

That’s how I feel about this album. It’s almost finished. As it has taken shape, it has become clear that some songs just won’t make it. I’m not the type that can walk into a studio and spit out a song or two or three in one session. Every song takes me many hours… weeks, months in some cases, and every song has meaning. After all that time and effort, it’s painful when a song just doesn’t turn out that great. I meant every word I wrote, and every note or sound was where I wanted it to be, but in the end it just doesn’t flow right or just doesn’t sound good. I guess it’s easier if someone else is making those decisions, but song filtering is the hardest part of being your own executive producer.

—

As the coach, you always hope the team you put out on the floor plays well, and you hope people enjoy watching them play. The crowd will never miss seeing the players that were there through all the rigors of training camp and preseason practices but ultimately didn’t make the team. But you will miss them.

I’m not sure which is worse – the proliferation of prostitution in Los Angeles, or citizens being in favor of it.

Because of a loophole in a recently passed state law concerning therapist certification, many areas of Los Angeles are seeing a noticeable increase of erotic “massage parlors”. Bad for the community right? Not according to the majority of comments left on the article. Here’s a small smattering of opinions in reaction to some police busts and local community leaders who are trying to crack down on it:

“Those darn right-wing Christians are running California into the ground!”

“I am really sick of the puritans of this country telling me what I can and can’t do.  You can pass all the laws you want.  You cant’ stop it.  Idiots.”

“This is AWESOME!  Finally, something in LA that is what the people want.  We need more places where men can go escape from their wives.  Thank you for making this possible!  Legislature, YOU ROCK!  Why would anyone want to stop this?”

“Oh Who cares if two consenting adults agree to an erotic massage for money.  It is nobodys damn business. I am so sick of these uptight religuous freaks telling people how to live their lives.”

“Why on earth is it the government or law enforcement’s job to regulate sex between consulting adults?  We have religion to blame for this”

I could go on. There were also many that want police to concentrate on “real crimes” such as robbery and gang activity.

It’s all perspective right? Being mugged or shot is something bad that could happen to you, whereas paying money to human traffickers to have sex with girls that may or not be prostituting themselves willingly is something bad happening to someone else. As long your own salacious desires are fulfilled it’s all good right?

If we have religion to blame for attempting to keep this world from becoming one big seedy red-light cesspool, well, thank you religion. And thanks for reminding us that our potential is infinite, that we can be much more than animals controlled by every carnal impulse. Some nerve you have religion, some nerve.

Link to LA Times story

You know how it’s almost discouraging when you see the awe-inspiring things that other people can create? This is one of those times.

Original link: Danny MacAskill’s “Way Back Home”