In memory of whom, M/tch. The fact that ben's out snowshoeing DUMBO doesn't mean our standards go to shit.
The "If Ayatollah once" line in the second verse is nice.
This song seems to be an older and satirical version of Toby Keith's actual worldview.
Stanley, if young Ben's snowshoeing anywhere at all, there are no standards left to maintain, and maybe there never were....
But who the hell wears snowshoes in New York? This I'd like to see.
What did cause ol' ogged to kick the bucket, anyways?
max
['Did he confuse the nair with shampoo and die of exposure?']
Shit, I'm supposed to fucking *practice* now? Don't wanna.
This song seems to be an older and satirical version of Toby Keith's actual worldview.
Would that it were satire, but I'm pretty sure that it's not. Those amusing appearances on the Colbert Report notwithstanding.
Oh, but who am I to talk, not being "an American girl," still less an "American guy," who will "always stand up and salute," who will "always recognize"? Where I come from, up da' Bonnechere, baby, Jewel of the
Valley (Ottawa, that is, and Valley is what I mean), we can be dumbarse yahoos in all innocence, not having to bear the burdens of Empire or anything like that. Montréal was the end of the world to me when I was a kid, and my father once took me there to watch the Habs play. Jaysus.
What did cause ol' ogged to kick the bucket, anyways?
Feminists.
Ogged died because we failed him. Each and every one of us.
Time for a séance. A knock under the table, the curtains blow ... Ogged, is that you?
Flim of the night was Ozu's Tokyo Story 1953. My first time.
I can't seem to stop cryin.
A knock under the table, the curtains blow
I did mine wrong - knocked the curtains and got a blow under the table - and summoned up the spirit of Fontana Labs.
Here is a good essay on Ozu.
Ozu constantly inserts lots of what have been called "pillow shots" into his movies. Seemingly random inexplicable frames of village streets or clothers drying on a line. Maybe 20% of the movie.
It is my opinion that good haiku contains two images or ideas that are not rationally connectable. Haiku is a zen artform, to the degree it is unique, and formally should take you out of your head. Koanish, a haiku should be impossible to interpret or describe, only contemplatable, opaque until transparent, mirror until glass.
Ozu:"Westerners call everything Japanese they don't understand Zen."
The pillow word, makura kotoba, is a fixed epithet, similar to the Homeric "rosy-fingered dawn," "Ulysses of many devices," "cow-eyed Hera." Fixed epithets are common in primitive poetry all over the world. Many makura kotoba seem to have become attached to certain places, things and conditions at a very early period. Later, extensive dictionaries of them were prepared, and in unskilled hands they easily degenerate into monotony. Even Hitomara uses "vine-covered" for his province of Iwami, seemingly only because "vine-covered" is the pillow word for iwa, "rock." By the time of the ManyÅ?shÅ« the meaning of some of them had become doubtful. An excellent example is ashibiki, the pillow word for yama, "mountain," which occurs in a poem of Hitomark's discussed in the notes. No one is really sure that ashibiki meant "tiring to the feet." That interpretation simply seemed to later generations a plausible pillow word for "mountain."
Link. Rexroth's heirs seem to have put his books in the public domain. A lot of his stuff is available in toto on the internet.
I think that in general in successful art you can't say with absolute clarity what it's about. Otherwise the creator might as well just write an essay.
I was really surprised by how non-ideological the music to this song is. I almost don't notice the lyrics at all. Not a bad song.
Was expecting something like Roger Hallmark's "A Message to Khomeini".
Otherwise the creator might as well just write an essay.
Which would put some of us out of a job.
I did mine wrong
You can't do these things all willy-nilly, you know. Or rather, you can, but then you get what you're asking for, mostly.
Ogged isn't really gone, is he? I am like a prodigal son returneth, having been gone for a year or two, sowing wild oats, expressething hedge-fund trades and the like. But I couldn't bear that.
Does Ogged live, or has he just passed from this website. Verily, etc.
17: Damn you, Pants, I'm sitting here with my kids in the room and they want to know what I snorted at.
25: they can't see underneath the table?
I'm trying to keep them sheltered.