Snow & Fancying Snags : Chronicle 24

It’s snowing tonight in the North of France! I feel like a kid on my balcony in an awe (isn’t snow time in the evening a little magical?). Awe and wonder. The first thing I did is to text my two daughters (who are 16 & 19 years old now) like : “Il neige !!!!”.

Like you, “neige” (just say “nej”) is the verb (it snows) and the snow itself (la neige). Neige is a great word to hear, it’s magical. I have a friend whose cat is named Neige (Snowy, in America, right?). Instead of saying “covered with snow”, we invented : “Enneigé”. Yes : ensnowed…

Christmas is family time, and, well, it’s a sad month for me now, some days…

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A funny exercise is to watch yourself with the “two facets” dial. We have many aspects, but let’s play the game of two. Your own two opposite properties.

You like to be alone AND you need your spouse around. You are creative AND you’re lazy. You’re introvert AND in some case you love to be the leader in front of a room. You’re married AND… ooops! Sorry. Too French.

There’s more that we think in this simple AND. It’s a better word than BUT. It includes this : there’s always one facet who needs attention, to grow, to be more complete. It’s one source of happiness. More : you can invent a dance between what you think are opposite qualities. You can invent a braid. A strong, powerful one.

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Sometimes I open a book about coding, programming. I remember I spent a whole summer, as a teenager, to optimize a program which had to place the boats on a hit & sunk 10×10 grid. Well : I remember pretty clearly the UNIQUE state of mind which is to program. It’s a particularly strong sort of flow

I almost got it back when I learned HTML, but nope-too-easy.

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I used to make verbs from nouns, in English. I’m sorry. What do you do? I coffee.

And at night, I bed. I’m sorry.

Well, I could say “I’m going to bed” in both, hmm?

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To say “To hit a snag“, we way “Tomber sur un bec” : to hit a… beak. It’s to meet an unforeseen difficulty, an “unexpected problem”, right?

I saw in English : To encounter a challenge. That’s a very positive way to say it!

Thus I wonder how it’s “heard” in America, the radioactivity of it. You hit a snag, great, you’ll unfold your powers and move forward? Or is it like in France a bit sarcastic : Haha, you hit a snag, now wait for the backlash! Bim in the nose.

We use it often when a smart-ass mister-knows-everything meets an angry little person who has none of it and has a different take. When fists fancy flying…

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Yep, as a casual structuralist, a pattern digger, I like to find “what is common” between things, what is “under”. But after that, the real pleasure is in the differences…

 

Good day!

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https://youtu.be/7AYJOQ09PeU?t=29h40s

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Blogger’s Words Horniness & consequences

Yesterday I wrote an “inspired” long article about Genesis and Progressive Rock. I was listening to Firth of Fifth and I was very excited.

But after finishing it, and publishing it, I stayed unsatisfied, I knew it was written in a rush, the building was not OK, something was bothering me. So I polished it endlessly, adding this, cutting that, quoting lyrics… I was like “Yes, but”.

Happily, later in the evening I had an idea to prolong it. I found tools, ideas, common patterns. Thus I fixed my article, I added a paragraph and published it.

I read over it this morning : it was all bouleshit – despite all the dressings I had added there and here. I trashed it immediately.

 

Every blogger knows that there are two kinds of “words horniness”.

  1. When you’re in the flow, you write fast and clear, and that’s delightful. You go girl.
  2. When you’re excited and you go in many directions at the same time, happy like a fool : you don’t hold your wheel vert smartly (or you invented three wheels and you don’t know what to do with them), you have good ideas but the result is too long, you ask yourself if you shouldn’t divide it in more articles based on this one, you run after a structure you feel you’re about to find, etc.

It’s like a rush. You’re too excited, you look like a leaping mountain baby goat.

 

It’s really like when you have this : “Let’s pretend” and other as if games…

When you feel this little nausea after you just say with someone you “want to believe it’s true but fuck it’s really not” : “Yeah, we are strong !”, “Yeah, we will beat them all”, “Yeah, it will be simple and beautiful !”. Yeahhhh.

 

Every serious author knows this : you have to be cautious with “inspiration”, it can loose you into nothing.

Sloterdijk wrote : “To be sovereign is to choose what will you be overwhelmed with”, which contains the idea of sovereignty : you decide what you do with energy. You canalize it, you organize it.

Baudelaire wrote : It is impossible for a poet not to contain within himself a critic. Therefore the reader will not be surprised that I consider the poet as the best of all critics”. This is exactly my point. Inspiration alone is nothing. You have to study and change what your write. And if you’re a genius, it’s the same!

Valéry wrote a lot about this aspect. He says that to write you have to find the “singing”, the little wind, easy to handle, the good temperature – But nervous freedom, fury or impetus are waste and loss. Stay a child, let it spurt, hear the gods, but then be a chief, take your brain, your tools, watch and clean it, build your thing. TAME.

 

OK, I trashed my article. But I liked it, in a way, this ugly child… Therefore, I re-published it, thanks to WordPress, in the past. November 1st. My bad.

 

Thanks for reading! Have a nice day!

 

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Pokemon Power & Building Ways Out : Chronicle 23

Le plaisir littéraire n’est pas d’exprimer sa pensée
tant que de trouver ce qu’on n’attendait pas de soi.
Paul Valéry

 

I really don’t know how to translate this. It’d be : “The literary pleasure is not to express your thought but to find what you didn’t expect from yourself“. Satisfactory idea, no?

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Pokemon (Pocket Monsters) is a media franchise managed by a Japanese consortium between Nintendo and others.

Yesterday in the store I work in, I saw a kid who bought for $70 of Pokemon cards. His papa had his credit card, that’s pretty cool! I said to the boy, who was smiling holding his ten little packs : “Will you open them like… one each day?”. “Nooooo : some cards have POWER, you know!”.

Power!

Two students asked for “Discourse on Voluntary Servitude” a few minutes later. Which, I told the girls, is about how to be free or how to be submissive and obey.

Who is powerful here? Nintendo, the Pokemons, the kid, the father? Where is the power “acting” IRL?

Will the kid buy Pokemon ring binders at 35 years old, like many adults I see? Therefore what? At the Pokemon marketing (cattle displacement) time, will your son chase Pokemons, or will he find anything else, by himself, out of the obedience area?

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It’s been Thanksgiving. Have you been grateful? To…?

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To build ways out.

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Ulysses resisted the song of the Sirens by having his ship’s crew tie him up, because their singing is so beautiful that it drives men mad.

He heard. The song was beautiful, and it offered “new knowledge about the world”. Well, I think so!

Céder aux chants des sirènes, we say in French : yield to the Sirens’ songs. It’s not “to succumb” (which is you lost), it “to yield to” (which is you decide to lose and let go).

In mythology, sirens are women-fish or women-birds (see the vase)…

This classic image of the guy tied to the mast because he wants to hear something dangerous is like an itching metaphor, don’t you think? Where could we apply that?

When do you “go even if you know it’s a mess”, and how to you protect yourself, then?

 

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To drive is to ignore plenty of things. There a great article about what is attention on Wikipedia : https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attention

It’s worth an article but I’m lazy. Nevertheless : I will explore this a little, later.

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In France, some guys were chasing Pokemons in cemeteries with their phones – or in people’s properties and gardens. What does that “mean”?

You don’t understand : some Pokemons have powers, they are RARE. You’ll never understand, right?

Nope.

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Bazin says that The Complex of Nero is when you have pleasure in the sight of urban destruction.

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There are two kinds of movies, those who shows, those who tells.

In Ryan’s Daughter, a husband is walking in a quiet sunny morning on a seashore. He smiles because he noticed steps in the sand, the steps of his wife. He knows she had a walk there. He follows the path. And he sees another set of steps, of a man of course, getting to the path, reaching her. Now it’s two pairs of shoes. This “feetprint” turns around a huge rock on the sand, and shows that they stopped behind it.

For a kiss

Here, two events are showed at the same time, without a single word. 1/The new romance, and 2/the discovery of the now broken hearted husband. On the image, you see what the spouse guesses…

Do you prefer this, or hear him crying on a chair telling a friend what he discovered?

Show, or tell?

 

Thanks for reading!

 

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Soccer Games (in shorts) (in the mud) (good grief)

When you’re not really interesting in soccer, you just watch and see two dozens of guys in shorts running after a ball. After all, we all need to be kept busy and to manage our time. Therefore, why not? Let’s take oneself in hand, and run after a ball, in a team! (important : in shorts).

I always have a bunch of naive questions I ask to my soccer lovers friends.

  • Why don’t these guys play with women? Co-ed football?
  • Why the hell is the team of “your” city the best? Imagine we do the same with movies or writers… Why don’t you watch all styles all teams and choose the one you love the most? No, OK, it’s your city, they’re the best. OK OK. OK.
  • Why don’t you all handle two balls at the time? It’d be funnier!

 

Introverts and other guys with glasses will try to find a philosophy here. Camus said he liked to play the goal keeper, where he learned a good lesson :

“The ball never comes from where you expected her to come”.

Like problems and betrayals in life?

(pardon my French)

 

When I was a teenager, my spectacled friend Jean-Marc and I (there are always two guys with glasses in a classroom, right?) we had to play soccer, and we hated it. Œuf Corse.

It’s November, it’s cold, drizzling. I want quiet, an easy chair and a fire and a cat and a book. Not to run in the dirt with idiots!

Bahhhh I loved that bunch of screaming guys : they were running like lemmings after the ball. It’s cute. Look at’em all! YAHHHHH.

Needless to say that the two poor shivering Jean-Marc and Jean-Pascal, in shorts and drizzled eyeglasses, were not in the group clucking like headless hens, because having found one or two functioning neurons in our bored head, we were, on the playground, waiting, a little bit outside of the circle of fools.

Re-needless to say that, oh fuque, inescapably, the ball ALWAYS suddenly spouted out of the group towards JM (or JP). Shit, shit and shit. What do I do now?? Mired for good.

With a good dose of audacity, I tried then to do the thing : running in cold November, in shorts, with a ball in the middle of my legs! Obviously, with a horde of yelling pimpled teenagers locked on to me…

When then reach me – if they don’t, I fall (because of the mess ball/legs) – in a panic gesture, I hit the ball. PAF. Anywhere. PAF! Go get it, you fools! Let the fetchers fetch.

Sigh… My hands on my knees, trying to catch back my breath, pfeeww, spitting my lungs, listening distractedly to the reproaches of Mr Sports Teacher, I’m thinking about next month’s soccer game. Oô December, “when mud on the ground is frozen in uncomfortable excrescences”.

I hear a crow. Croak! He mocks me. OK, let’s focus. Where’s the horde? I stand up and deep breathe. You go girl.

Happily, today I didn’t fell full length in the mud…

 

Thanks for reading! Have a great sunday!

 

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Losing My Religion, Every Breath you Take

Consider this
The slip that brought me
To my knees

 

I wrote here, a few days ago, something about Every Breath you Take, from Police :

  • The strange lyrics of Police‘s Every Breath you Take, the story of a stalker after a break up. “Sting later said he was disconcerted by how many people think the song is more positive than it is. He insists it is about the obsession with a lost lover, and the jealousy and surveillance that follow.” – and not a gentle love song.

Tonight I just watched a documentary about Pixies, R.E.M. and Nirvana. I saw the clip of Losing my Religion, then discovered this on Wikipedia :

  • The phrase “losing my religion” is an expression from the southern region of the United States that means losing one’s temper or civility, or “being at the end of one’s rope.” Stipe told The New York Times the song was about romantic expression. He told Q that “Losing My Religion” is about “someone who pines for someone else. It’s unrequited love, what have you.” Stipe compared the song’s theme to “Every Breath You Take” by The Police, saying, “It’s just a classic obsession pop song. I’ve always felt the best kinds of songs are the ones where anybody can listen to it, put themselves in it and say, ‘Yeah, that’s me.'”

 

Well, I suppose everybody remembers these two songs. In France, I admit both were hits, though we didn’t care that much about the lyrics. Though we felt that R.E.M.’s song and clip was, indeed, about a powerless obsession. The mandolin…

 

Yep, it’s a tool for my blog, a dial for creatives. Stipes says it perfectly :

I’ve always felt the best kinds of songs are the ones where anybody can listen to it, put themselves in it and say, ‘Yeah, that’s me.’

It’s true I admire poets, photographers and musicians who are able to talk about subtle things “between words”. Words are simplifyiers, and it’s sometimes boring. They put life, and moving shades into immobile boxes.

We talk here about another thing. When words are “so” flat, grey, imprecise, that anyone will find what one wants. Haziness as a talent. The audience jumps into it. We apply it to our story…

Sting told the story of a stalker, but lovers love it, they play the song at weddings! Stipes sings about past pining, but never explains what it is about in the song. It’s like a tropism, a flake of feeling. One person is “losing religion” – and we all understand the frustration.

It’s like the “But I could be wrong” image. You don’t know the author, and why we see that picture, what does this mean. You raise an eyebrow in wonder. And YES, you could be wrong, dear!

 

Awweeee. Have a nice day…

 

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Life is bigger
It’s bigger
And you, you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I set it up

That’s me in the corner
That’s me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no I’ve said too much
I haven’t said enough

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

Every whisper
Of every waking hour
I’m choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I set it up

Consider this
The hint of the century
Consider this
The slip that brought me
To my knees failed
What if all these fantasies
Come flailing around
Now I’ve said too much

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream
That was just a dream

That’s me in the corner
That’s me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no I’ve said too much
I haven’t said enough

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream, try, cry, why, try
That was just a dream, just a dream, just a dream
Dream

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“Sways & Totters” : Teetering Harmonies in Bear in Heaven

One motto of art is “What’s new here?”, right?

Therefore my inner dial is the “Eyebrow Criteria” – one has to move up.

Like : “What??!”

Thus today I gathered some sick pop songs.

 

If the verses sounds minimalistic plastic “I make you wait”, the choruses lift you up dangerously in uncertain harmonies. Don’t be sick.

 

This one is pleasantly teetering, right? Your ears warn your brain : there’s a mistake! There ARE mistakes! But… Errr… these ears of yours also say : I feel pleasure. Mmmh. Maybe. When it climbs?

 

I opened a community about dissonant pop in G+ :

https://plus.google.com/communities/115751320828152239563