Dodgem Logic: Thoughts.

So I've finally gotten around to reading the first issue of Alan Moore's Dodgem Logic, a bi-weekly manifesto for reprobates, social desist and aspiring crazy people. That's right, humanities students will love this shit.

The publications begins with a long and rather interesting history of alternate publications and underground magazines; this is written by Moore himself. This is followed by an enigmatic comic strip by Kevin O Neil (League of Extraordinary Gentlemen artist), an article titled "What if Armstrong were interesting," in which one author essentially lists things that would have made the moon landing more fun, an enlightening article on the direction that feminism seems to be taking, instructions on how to become a guerrilla gardener (a proposed new form of vandalism in which the participants turn ugly city owned properties into beautiful gardens), and a host of other intriguing oddities, mostly littered with blatant and random phallic symbology. That is to say, there are a lot of penises in this book.

Oh yeah, and Graham Lineman, of the IT Crowd, talks about Twitter.

I urge you to give it a look. More information is here at the Dodgem logic web site.

Although the content of the magazine certainly tickles my interest, I find myself questioning its ability to succeed. The death of most print publications seems eminent. The big budgets like Rolling Stone and Time might outlast the rest but only because they appeal to a larger reader base. Obscure art books like Dodgem Logic, as lovely as they are, really only have a small niche audience. It should be interesting to see how this is received.

I do have immense faith in Alan though. I mean, come on:




Final note: A documented attempt at guerrilla gardening seems like a good idea for a blog post. Come summer in Winnipeg, anyone interested?

Orwell or not.

So I read some more Orwell essays and I came across one that attempts to explain the reasoning behind why writers do that thing they do. Here's his list:

1. Sheer egoism
2.Aesthetic enthusiasm: One whom takes pleasure in the sound and flow of words
3.Historical impulse
4.Political purpose

I suppose number one lends itself true to almost all sects of art, or even careers in general. Although, I can not imagine one working at a Safeway in an effort to enhance their own overbearing ego. Then again, a lot of weird people work at Safeway.

Number two brings to mind the thought of some deranged little man sitting in a dark room reading poetry aloud to himself. After each word, he shakes with delight for he finds few things as enjoyable as word flow. The habit slowly becomes unmanageable and he looses his family and job. This is fine though because he still has his words. Then finally, thanks to his addiction, he dies alone in the dark room: syntax overdose?

Number three: writing to record things. Diary writing, journalism record keeping etc would fall under this category. I really have nothing good to put here but an explanation. Sorry.

He wrote far more for the forth section then the others. The reason being, I suppose, is most of his books were designed to sway people in a specific direction. In this section, he also stated that there is no such thing as a book or text free from some form of political bias.

Now, I am almost positive there has to be a billion more reasons why people make words. How about sheer madness? If anyone is reading this your ideas are welcome.


It's the long weekend. I'm sitting at home writing a paper. This post is a break from that. Now that break is over forever. Farewell.

Sound words.

Translating music to words, more specifically words that can paint an accurate picture of what a particular piece of music sounds like, can be a fairly daunting task. Furthermore, an attempt to do so is bound to be over complicated and impractical for most readers. So when most writers approach such a task they make no attempt to wholly explain the music they are writing about. Instead, they focus on describing a small aspect of it and then move on to talking about the social lives of the composers or some other irrelevant dribble. I myself am readily guilty of this.

But who's to say this is a bad means of writing about music? Audiences don't want detailed descriptions of a song, they want opinion and insight. The bulk of mainstream music writing is arranged in this way.

The English language is not designed to describe music. We have another language for that: music. We often find ourselves incorporating musical language into English conversation in order to better describe the topic. However, this risks leaving audience members with no understanding of musical vocabulary in the dark. And so, we find ourselves torn between accurately describing music with words not everyone will be able to recognize and the terrifying alternate: being creative.

Before we get into the later option, I would like to quickly cite that there is one way of describing music that does not require niche language or artistic endeavors. You find a point of reference for the object of description. Rather, you find something to compare it to. Similar genres, bands and songs all help paint a good picture of what exactly it is you are talking about. Of course, by citing specific bands and songs you are again making the assumption that your audience knows what your talking about. The only surefire way to include as many readers as possible is to use your imagination.

I suppose the reason I don't like writing about music is because I'm used to talking to other musicians about music in musical language. So when it comes to talking to people that don't speak the language... well, it's like trying to tell Grandma how to use a PC. Call me pretentious buts it's still not that fun.

Anyway, here's some excerpts of people trying to describing sounds.



Hunter’s new album, “Man Overboard” (New West), finds him revisiting the successful formula of those recent records, focussing on strong songwriting and straightforward rock and roll. As Hunter has gotten older, he has gotten better at writing songs that are about something different from what they first appear to be—or rather, he writes songs that are about more than one thing. The opener, “The Great Escape,” takes a story about a youthful barroom fight and refashions it as a tragicomic meditation on mortality. “Girl from the Office,” a sweet look at a workplace crush, has plenty to say about masculinity, freedom, and mystery. “Babylon Blues” has a wonderfully ragged vocal from Hunter, here in the service of a spirited bit of invective (“Don’t try pulling me down to your level / Ain’t nothing worse than a phony-assed rebel”). And the title track starts off as a companion piece to his late-seventies hit “Ships” and ends up as an equivocal defense of the escapist powers of alcohol.
-Ben Greenman, The New Yorker

Greenman Focuses on the lyrical content of the music. This leaves his readers with a good understanding of what the music he describes is about but they have virtually no idea what the album sounds like. In this day and age "rock and roll" is a vague term. I would never call something just "rock and roll" without further explanation. Also, notice that Greenman seems to assume that his readers have already listened to the artist.

The Deep Dark Woods brings playfulness, human warmth, and an utterly fun rhythm section to the shadowy traditions of roots music.

-Winnipeg Folk Festival program

Human warmth? Clearly no music can emulate such a divine concept? Perhaps The Deep Dark Woods have tapped into some unknown chord that brings listeners to feel as if a lover is holding them tightly NEVER TO LET GO. Yes, this clearly must be an album fueled by dark magic, probably found in a deep dark forest. I must buy it so I might experience this phenomenon on my own.

There are no guitars and no vocals in Bell Orchestre, only a drum kit surrounded by what one might interpret as a traditional baroque quintet.

Rest assured though, this is nothing like those Bach pieces your piano teacher used to drone into your head.

-Me, The Uniter

Am I embarrassed that I wrote a review that sounds like a movie trailer? No. No I am not.

Well, there you have it: an incoherent rant that didn't actually come to any form of conclusion. Good day to you.

The nature of moving backward

After a few close calls and trying to decide what was too much and too little to take on, I think I've finally settled into University life again. This year my course schedule is far more reasonable. That is to say, I won't be sitting in the library at three hour intervals waiting for my next class to start. No sir, I go to school, go to class then go home and do other things of interest.

The band is going well. We've added a trumpet player to the mix. Its good. That is all.

I've also begun a new job as a guitar teacher. I get paid way too much and half my students are so enthusiastic about the instrument that teaching hardly means work. Unfortunately, not all of them are like that and I'm slowly learning how difficult it is to give equal attention to the non-keeners. As a result, I've developed a new-found respect for all high school teachers.

I have yet to touch the Uniter, my schools newspaper, this semester but I did a lot of stuff during the summer. The most hilarious being this, in which I make my good friend Aaron sound like the greatest thing since water. I think I am going to try my hand at some kind of silly political commentary, as band and art reviews are growing tiresome.

I picked up the great gatsby and the complete Milton today for a rousing 10$ from my schools discount book dude. I am truly looking forward for finding the time for Paradise Lost and its less popular sequel, Paradise Regained.

I think I slowed down writing in this blog because things got to a point where I would just look back at last weeks post and be extremely disappointed in myself. I suppose the nature of moving forward involves being embarrassed about your past. What does the nature of moving backward involve then?

Anyway, maybe post consistency will change now that there's more structure in my days.

George Orwell sucks at drinking tea.

I have come across forty odd something essays written by the late Eric Blair, better known as George Orwell. I have waded through nearly half of them and I can say confidently, at this point, that the guy had a lot of great ideas.

There are pieces dedicated to the faults of English, the obscurity of political language, why ideals get in the way of art, and tea. The last topic is where Blair, in my opinion, falls short.

Blair dedicates an entire paper to what he seems to believe is proper tea etiquette. He establishes this through eleven points. Some of them are good, some of them are bad. The bad ones are bad enough to make me write a post about the paper. Here we go.

1. One should use Indian tea or Ceylonese tea. These teas will make you feel wiser, braver and optimistic. Don't use Chinese tea. It tastes good but doesn't stimulate you in anyway.

I'm really not sure where he's coming from on this one. Some of the best teas in the world are from China. Bao Hao Yinzhen, the rarest and most expensive of all white tea, is only grown in China. I've tried the stuff and I can vouch that its fantastic. Perhaps Blair attributed Chinese Communism to Chinese tea? That's really the only rationalization I can think of. I mean, he loves Communism, right?

2. Tea should be made in small quantities.

Tea should be made in a necessary quantity. I really see no reason to only make small amounts.

3. The pot should be warmed before you add water.

So you can destroy your tea pot?

4. Tea should always be strong

Different teas should be made at different levels of potency. Some teas are meant to be surrounded by little water and then drank like a shot of tequila. These ones will always be strong. A black tea like lapsang might be better enjoyed if the server chooses to steep it for a short amount of time. Lapsang is very distinct and steeping too long can lead to your beverage becoming too strong.

5. Tea should be put straight into the pot. No strainers or bags to imprison the tea.

Although it is traditional to avoid bags and strainers and leave your leafs to sit in the water, this leads to the release of a chemical, the name I can not recall at the moment, and your tea becoming very bitter. I believe you also loose a lot of antioxidants if you steep too long.

6. The water should be boiling when you pour it.

On the contrary, your water should almost never ever be boiling when you pour it on your tea. It should be under the boil. Boiling water can burn green and white tea leafs leading to a bitter and burnt taste.

7. After making the tea, stir it or give the pot a good shake.

Not necessary with loose leaf in a strainer. I've seen people dab their tea bags up and down in cups before but I don't really find it makes much of difference.

8. One should drink out of a cylinder breakfast cup, not a flat one.

I'm not too familiar with which cups to use for which tea but I am almost certain that it depends on the tea your are drinking.

9. One should pour the cream off the milk before using it for tea.

I don't like milk in my tea. You want to taste tea, not milk. Adding cream and milk to tea is probably a very recent practice likely invented by silly white Englishmen with no conception of what they were doing.

On another note, the milk George Orwell drank apparently had a layer of cream on top of it. I just though I would point that out.

10. One should pour tea into a cup before adding milk.

Again, I don't use milk. In the event that I was to use milk, the placement of it before or after the tea would have no effect on the taste of it. Blair says to add milk last so you can better regulate the exact amount you need. Shape the milk around the tea rather then the tea around the milk. Makes sense I guess.

11. Tea should be drunk with out sugar.

I must agree with Blair here. He states that by adding sugar you take away from the flavor of the tea. You get a similar beverage from simply adding sugar to hot water. Again, adding sugar to tea is probably a recent practice born from the mind of colonialists.

Chris out.

Sup.

Recording an EP, hunting for a job, planning a London adventure and odd amounts of exercise. These are the things that make up my first full month of summer holidays, or rather, these are the things that carry some form of significance and are worth mentioning to an imaginary audience that I would think might have an interest in such topics. Certainly, there have been other things, less worth mentioning, that have been a part of my time off.

Everyday I seem to go out of my way to wake up only to go back to sleep at some point or another. Waking up, I find, seems to be a new experience everyday. Sometimes I awake lying on my back, while other times I am situated in a sideways laying position. When I go to sleep, I put no effort into urging myself to awake in a specific position. As a result, when I do awake it is always a complete surprise which position I have awoken in. It is the shock from this surprise, which forces my body up from bed and ignites the brain for the thinking tasks that will present themselves throughout the day.

The first such task can be a number of things. Perhaps I will go to the bathroom or shower. Hell, maybe I’ll skip the shower and move right on to the breakfast. Sometimes a mourning run seems the best option, not before stretching of coarse. The type of breakfast, the shower temperature, how long to run, these are all important decisions that I have to face within at least the first ten minutes of my day. By the time one hour has gone by, a million intricate choices have already been made and for the rest of my life there will be nothing I can do to change them. As you can imagine, if I lamented over even some of the poorer decisions or lost options another hour might go by. Thus I must constantly live in the present and strive to eat the best possible type of cereal available to me. This raises another, even more important question which must be contemplated every single day:

Are all cereals born equal or are some better then others?

The ethics of criticism?

After rereading this post I have realized that I do not necessarily agree with all the assumptions I made well writing this. I've decided to post it anyway though because that's the kind of guy I am. Enjoy.

Why is it that refuting religion is, by social and perhaps cultural standards, considered rude when to refute some other form of belief like praise for a sports team, music taste or political affiliation is completely acceptable in a social context? Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, Daniel Dennett and Sam Harris puzzle over this question, amongst others, in the absurdly titled, four horsemen discussion.

To those unfamiliar, Dawkins, Hitchens, Dennet and Harris are all well published and respected authors. Each has achieved some form of prestige in regards to their work on religious skeptisism and the atheist movment.

Back to the question then.

Generaly speaking, unlike sports and music taste, religion encompasses a large part of the lives of those whom consider themselves religious. Religion is a way of life or at very least influence the way you live yours. Thus to question some ones religion is to question their very way of life. To denounce their religion is to denounce the way they live their lives. To assault someones way of life in this fashion certainly can be considered rude and, to some degree, maybe even unethical.

Perhaps there are specific situations where it is okay to offer criticism and others where it is not. When verbally attacking someone, one must ask him/herself for the reasoning behind the argument. Is it an attempt to simply create frustration and annoyance or are they under the impression that by changing the mind of as many people as possible the world will brick by brick become a better place?

Growing up in a place full of argument, I believe thoroughly there are few things as useless and pointless as arguments and criticism without any real aim. I agree with many of the things Dawkins and co address but they leave me wondering what exactly the fruits of their labors are. I would be interested in reading testimony's of individuals whom abandon faith due to the writings or speeches of any of the men mentioned.