thats what she said . . . .

Thou clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou whoreson obscene greasy tallow-catch!

And:

A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking, whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch; one whom I will beat into a clamorous whining, if thou deny'st the least syllable of thy addition.

I Love Shakespeare

To all of you people out there who respond to everything with 'your mom' or 'thats what she said' just wanted to let you know that Shakespeare can insult every shred of your intellect, body, hopes and dreams in a single elegantly crafted sentence.

Fun in the Sun

I've been reading everyones summer plans. For the first time in my life I wish to be multiple places. I want to be at camp, acting like the crazy idiot that I wish I was, I want to be in texas with my bro, hangin' at baseball and football games and playing music, I want to be in Watertown to be a part of my sister's and little brother's lives, I want to go to China with my best friend, I want so many things. God wants me in IL and, believe me, I want to be there too. I've never felt confused about summer plans. I've never cared. After graduating from glorified high school I feel like I'm lost about so many things.
But at the same time I've never been surer (is that a word) about the stuff I've been learning about . . . God has started to show me the meaningful things in life, a desire for him and a passion for people. The desire to love every liberal and conservative equally. The hope of communicating happiness to those who I have the privilege of touching. So much of this is because I lost my comfort zone. Anyway, I'm rambling now.
peace and love

Goldberg Variations

I'm sitting here, posting instead of going downstairs and talking to people at a graduation party but hey, its all good 'cause I'm listening to the Goldberg Variations by J.S. Bach. This is a work of truly monumental proportions. Bach only wrote two sets of variations for keyboard and this is definitely his best. Its a theme and variations - Bach was supposed to write a set of variations that could put someone to sleep and instead he composed a work that boggles the mind in his use of counterpoint, form and style. He plays the same them 30 different ways - you try thinking of 15 fundamentally different ways to cover the same song and then make every single one of them perfect . . . . its kinda hard.
A lot of people tell me that Bach bores them, and I guess in some ways I understand that (although I never agree with it), but when I sit and listen to the clarity and purity of Bach - his mathematical precision combined with his glorious celebration of life and happiness plus his understanding of the depths of human emotion I am at a loss at how you (the reader) doesn't appreciate the genius it took to construct this work. Bach's genius is on the same level as an Einstein or Da Vinci but the blessing of Bach is that its approachable by any person no matter what level of intellect or musical appreciation - all it takes is a willingness to sit and analyze the music. Anyway, I'm being a music nerd again but you all need to take a half hour and listen to the Goldberg Variations as soon as you can. (note: if you can listen to the Glenn Gould version - if you tend to get bored easily listen to the early set, if you don't mind sitting listen to the late version. If you can't find Gould, any version will be fine).

Peace and Love

summer time

Summer is beautiful. I love summer. Therefore iced tea is good.

Seriously, there's something just right about having a glass of sweet tea (the southern kind) on a hot day - especially when its homemade. So to all you people out there who are sitting inside go brew up some tea, dump 3-4 cups of sugar in it, stick it in the fridge for a while, and then drink it outside on your lawn. Not an experience to be missed.

what did you get today?

rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, rain,
rain is good for the ground
rain is good for the farmers
rain is good for the humidity levels
I don't like rain.

(note: this is a textbook example of a form of syllogism called "Josh's logic" after the man who came up with it. Like most logic its form is incomprehensible to all but the educated - making me the tailors of "The Emperors New Clothes" :)

Today is Thursday and I have traveled up to WI in the belief that honoring your job responsibilities is a good thing to do.

But I digress from the real purpose of this post. Two weeks ago I bought a suit. For many guys this is a sentence that would probably cover up weeping and gnashing of teeth. But for me . . . . not so much. The only feeling remotely close to putting on a good suit/tux outfit is performing well. All is right with the world on both of these occasions. My new suit is a beauty: its a super-dark charcoal (very important because: black suits make me look like a vampire, and blue suits tend to be ugly) with a grey-green pinstripe. Its 100% wool - really the only fabric acceptable in a good suit. I got the jacket tailored to make it hang right and the coat is cut longer (almost a lounge coat - but not quite). I also bought a beautiful shirt and several ties to accompany the suit. Also, because the place I bought it from was going out of business I was able to get it for half price (it was still the most expensive outfit I've ever purchased). Anyway, I picked it up today and its better than ever. I can't wait to wear it.

Anyway, enough about me for today. peace and love

letter to friends

I welcome you back to the fold. I told this to myself when I promised to be a better poster. I'm sick of not causing hatred and sarcasm by my horrible grammar. So I promise to post often and badly so that all the world may hear of the insignificant details of my life in the tiny village of Shannon (technically, I don't think its even a village, whats smaller than a village?).
Anyway, first things first. For those of you who don't know Pastor Tipmore died this morning (father of Karlyn who is the best friend of Jessica Mundt, I've been in his church and I know Karlyn). Pray for the family.
Today, is a rainy day. Normally I hate the rain - its drippy and wet and makes my car smell musty and in general, is a bigger pain than a blessing. But today its rather nice. I think that given enough inside time I could eventually learn to like the rain. maybe.
I talked about Falls today. Everybody has their own opinions about the place. A lot of people want to know how I'm doing after leaving, if I'm glad or mad or bitter or sad or whatever. How do you explain something that, after your parents, is the single defining influence in your life? How do you explain that the hurt doesn't go away - the loss of what might-have-been is immeasurable. I think it was Albert Schweitzer who said "the greatest loss in war is in the might-have-beens" its not the loss in economy or money but in potential. That's the thing that bothers me most about Falls. No matter how God blesses them or me or my family or anybody involved in the situation, the loss of potential is the hardest to bear.
Anyway, peace and love.

marching on

whooohooo,

yes,

tirra-lirra-la I gloat, I gloat, here me!!!!!!!!

Ding-Dong the witch is dead!!!!!!


DUKE IS OUT!!!!!!

For me the the March Madness party normally reserved for a 9 seed winning the Big Dance has begun. To be honest, this party starts anytime a big name program gets upset in the first two rounds - preferably the first round. But this year is something special, Duke out to tiny Virginia Commonwealth University. This isn't quite David and Goliath - its more like Finland vs. Russia in 1940, only Russia doesn't come back in a year to dogpile Finland. And then to have Duke beaten on an almost buzzer-beater. Ladies and Gentleman, I ask you "Can life get any better, I contend it cannot."

To be honest, I really wasn't as into this year's Dance. Maybe its the aftereffect of graduating and leaving that last bastion of immaturity that is college, or it could be that the college basketball season has been relatively devoid of national interest, despite two amazing freshman, two Big Ten teams in the top five for most of the season and a host of players playing reasonably well. In any case, the interest just hasn't been there. But now, I'm locked in.
Bring it on you Cinderella, Bring it on you CBS-contrived storylines in intro's to games that we would sell our friends children's souls to watch anyway (sidenote: WWF should really watch these things to learn how the pro's make up storys), Bring on the hours (cough: wasted) spent in front of the TV agonizing over the fate of Old Dominion and those days spent arguing with your friends about the idiocy of picking Tenessee to win, Bring on this most wonderful time of the year when team rise against team, day after day, hour after hour, second by agonizingly long second, when the lion lays down by the lamb after getting defeated by mouse. Truly, this time is blessed.

Now if Florida could see there way to losing this party would really be rocking.

And its been long enough

Now I know most of you folks out there seem to like this new-fangled music with its drums and guitars and singers (some of whom don't even sing) with its repetitive words and funny-looking dance moves and I might admit that some of it sounds pretty interesting. But for my book you can't beat a guy like Beethoven - who was a true genius (as evidenced by the fact that he yelled at people a lot and walked around his place in Vienna buck-naked and played a piano with its legs cut off and wrote music). Last Friday I got to hear a guy play a Beethoven sonata (op. 109 for those interested - anyone . . . . anyone at all?) and it was pretty good, not as mature as it could have been but it showed promise and it inspired me to return to a sonata I had once learned (op. 110) and relearn it. It is heartrendingly beatiful. Honestly, I could die listening to that song right now and I would be happy. It's like that scene from the end of the Last Samurai where Ken Watanabe is about ready to die and he see's the cherry blossoms and says something like "It's perfect" and then collapse's into a lake of his people's blood that he had killed because of his senseless attack. But I digress.
I don't know how normal people live their lives - it seems to be a mish-mash of banal activities (getting a shower, cooking food, taking out the garbage, going to work, sharpening pencils, etc.) and frenetic attempts to be somebody (American Idol anybody?).
And in a lot of ways I wish that I could be like that. I wish it were ok for me to go into business and work a 9-5, hopefully get a little financial security, have a family and get old and fat and die. I wish it were possible to only dream of getting into American Idol, or of getting a career as a lawyer.

And then, I sit down and play music. I'm not the best pianist. I'm really not even decent by the music world's standards, but when I experience the creation of sound, color, timbre, emotion, knowledge, that is the piano; I realize that I can do nothing else but pursue this desire. I don't know if normal people can relate to that. To be able to feel the sorrow that Beethoven felt. To see the majesty of Kiev. To paint a masterpiece in time - gone the instant it was created is a feeling like no other. I hope in your life that you are able to experience something like that, to transcend the mundane into a glorious world. To see nobility and villainy, tragedy and happiness, power and mercy. This is a great gift - I am humbled that I have been given the opportunity to experience this.
I guess for some people its hard to understand why a person could live a life not knowing about his future, never any real financial security to speak of, and I guess its hard for me too. I rest in the belief that I'm where God wants me, and when my faith becomes weak . . . I am reminded anew of his provision by the gift of music.

my new instrument

well several weeks ago I was talking to a family in my church (the Myers but nobody knows them - I don't think), anyway one of their sons mentioned that he played the nose flute - too which statement I reacted with something of shock, I had never heard of a nose flute, and I'm a music major. So I commented on my amusement and then fairly promptly forgot about it. And then I was invited over to their house for a kind of Christmas/New Years/whatever get together. And the Myers proceeded to present me with my very own nose flute. Unfortunately I was unable to locate a decent picture of my nose flute in my cursory examination of google. so I must only describe it to you. its orange and plastic and the top of it covers your nostrils and the bottom covers your mouth and you make sounds by blowing air through your nose (hence nose flute) and using your open mouth to manipulate the tone. It kinda sounds like a breathy whistle. And so this is my new instrument - I'm thinking an offertory on it is in order. Anyway I just wanted to let you know that I now play the piano, violin, udu, nose flute, and trumpet (a very little bit on the trumpet) - next stop: A street corner near you.

Musings and Uncertainty

I woke up with a splitting headache. I rolled over and looked at the clock with less than open eyes and glared at my clock - hurrah, it was 5:30 in the morning and I had been asleep for three hours. And then I couldn't get back to sleep for a long time - the headache had happened to me before. It tends to attack every couple of months after a period of extreme sleep loss and then my body decides that it will now not allow me to sleep at all. And so I toss and turn and turn and toss until I convince myself that I must have Tylenol. And herein lies the problem - you see, I don't have Tylenol in my house and no place is open at 5:45 in the morning - so I tell myself that I can do it and try to sleep and relax into dreaming. Eventually I get Tylenol. I've already left a note that I'm not feeling well and am taking the morning off, as I collapse into my bed the headaches steel bands are loosening and my body is gratefully falling into sleep. I won't wake up until noon.

The snow has fallen all day long. Contrary to the idiot weather man who said that it was supposed to be done by 1 pm. I hope he starts carrying a bow-and-arrow. But its Monday night and I desperately need to go shopping. So I leave, pushing my way through the flurries, hoplessly hoping that my lights will reach further than 25 ft away. I make the trip in reasonable time - the roads are surprisingly good - then eat at the E.Coli factory. After shopping and gassing and eating and driving and shaking and desiring. I returned home. I then cleaned for almost an hour - boxes were destroyed, I cleaned my refrigerator, cleaned up Christmas trash, discovered that I need extensions cords, moved most of my clothes, cleaned the kitchen, set up the vacum, set up the dvd player, swept, wiped down and generally made a nuisance of myself. Then I realized that the Globes were useless, predictable people with prosaic phrases organized into dull speeches with boring clothes and stupid announcers. but sam fisher was not. And so I slept.

Children are interesting. It has been often said that children have the purest outlook on life. They get excited that their sister uses the training potty and sleeps in a real bed. I wonder if its possible for adults to ever enjoy that wonder at the world. Too much of life is devoted to car registration, worrying over schools, pleasing people, working. Where is the excitement that comes with the way the ice froze on the windowpane? Is it a bad thing that the adult brain becomes focused? Is it any less serious to be simple-minded than it is to be driven? Ambition is a hard taskmaster - but it is an accepted one. While musing over aviator's and blue t-shirts, while considering cannonballs, in view of screwdriver sets and broken castors, consider the icy windowpane.

Apocalypse When?

Ladies and Gentleman

drumroll please

A group of United Airline workers including some pilots swear that they saw a saucer shaped disk that hovered over the ground above O'hare Airport and then shot back up into the clouds.
The FAA blames the weather. One controller a Craig Burzych said "To come 7 million light years to O'Hare and then have to turn around and go home because your gate was occupied is simply unacceptable".

I couldn't agree more.