Some time ago I decided that I should become a poet. The problem with this is that I do not often compose poetry. Fortunately, one does not need to be a certain thing to call oneself that same thing, except that such calling will in truth be untrue, unless it is called art. It is for this reason that I must make (or find) something that I can call poetry. The convenient thing about art is that the artist has a great deal of freedom to call creations (and sometimes destructions) anything he likes. This is what makes it art.
The poet's art is a dangerous art. The life of the poet is a hard one. It is indeed one of the most rugged and manly lives that can be lived, for it is as I sometimes say, "Poets die young." I might add that they often die violently, as well. Let us survey the dangerous lives and deaths of several famous poets to illustrate the point:
Lord Byron died of illness at the age of 34 while in Greece aiding with their rebellion against the Ottoman Empire.
Percy Shelley drowned at the age of 29 while sailing in a storm.
John Keats died of tuberculosis at the age of 26.
Edgar Allan Poe died for an uncertain reason at the age of 40.
Sylvia Plath committed suicide at the age of 30 by way of gas stove and sealed kitchen.
Five is a fine number, for the most part, but it is not three. At any rate, my readers, you understand, the writing of poetry does indeed decrease one's life expectancy. It is a risky behavior, much like serving in the Polish cavalry in the second World War. It is for this reason that I shall be a poet only insofar as I might call myself one, for I must call myself a poet to refer to myself as a poet-musician or bard-minstrel. I do not wish to be a mere musician or minstrel.
Thus I take up my pen with the greatest of care, so as not to harm myself with it. You know, if you believe yourself to be an inkpen, it is unwise to sharpen your neck with a pen-knife, but that is another matter for another time, and that time, a time of dramatic poetry, was in 1867. Of course, there is also time in my final sentence. That being said, I bid all of my friends farewell, and until next time, I should remind you that though Hussein is widely believed to be a sand-box, he is really a pen.
29 August 2007
28 August 2007
My Friend the Gourd
I have a friend. I believe he is a gourd. This is why I call him Gourd, not to be mistaken for another fellow who is very dear to me, known to some as Gord. He is a good Gord, a better Gord than Gourd, but Gourd is still an excellent gourd, though not a Gord at all.
My friend Gourd is a new friend. I have only known Gourd for a few weeks, but in this time he has grown by many feet and has sprouted lovely growths. These growths do well for Gourd, very much unlike the same growths would do for me. Each time I see Gourd, he has sprouted new lovely growths, and at one end he has a bulbous green growth that should be a matter of interest in the time to come.
My dear Gourd has moved very far without going anywhere at all. Though he climbs down the wall, his firm stance remains where he came into being. Often I wonder, how did Gourd get to come into being where he did? It is an odd place for a friend to live.
I look forward to seeing my friend once more. It is always a pleasure to see his progress.
My friend Gourd is a new friend. I have only known Gourd for a few weeks, but in this time he has grown by many feet and has sprouted lovely growths. These growths do well for Gourd, very much unlike the same growths would do for me. Each time I see Gourd, he has sprouted new lovely growths, and at one end he has a bulbous green growth that should be a matter of interest in the time to come.
My dear Gourd has moved very far without going anywhere at all. Though he climbs down the wall, his firm stance remains where he came into being. Often I wonder, how did Gourd get to come into being where he did? It is an odd place for a friend to live.
I look forward to seeing my friend once more. It is always a pleasure to see his progress.
25 August 2007
Life in a Lush River Valley
Life in a lush river valley is a blessed one, my friends. In such a place there are vast meadows for frolicking, green forests on every side, and many animal friends to meet when they stray from their woodland homes. In the golden meadows where all rainbows make their end, faeries flutter freely through the flowers, ever-glistening with the morning dew, alongside bumblebees and hummingbirds and pixies that make their harvest of the meadow's sweetly divine nectar each day. The river flows through the midst of the meadow, its pure, azure waters sparkling in the eternal sunshine of the springtime days. The heron and the kingfisher glide across the water's surface, and the rainbow-hued fish leap downstream. They dance to the chorus of the dragonflies and the frogs, aided by the soft singing of the birds in the sky and in the trees. O the trees! Some stand proudly alone along the water's edge, and the rest make up the forest, through which the balmy breeze brings the sacred scent of the coming storm! In the forest the animals and the gnomes and the nymphs make their homes, sometimes visiting the valley's meadow to partake of the water or the nectar or the euphony of the symphonic sounds of its inhabitants. In the afternoon the faint piping of the faun can be heard deep in the woods, but it grows nearer as night approaches. By the moonlight in the meadow, the faun pipes his ethereally haunting melodies through the night, harmonized by the chirps of the crickets and ornamented by the calls of the owl. The morning mists fog the faun's return to his faraway clearing in the heart of the wood, just as the new sunlight finds its way over the hill and through the trees. The clouds are hued with all shades of orange and yellow, just as they had been in the evening, and the sky slowly becomes clear and blue. Another day has come in my lush river valley. How nice it is to be here!
23 August 2007
Effective Participation
The political theorist Dahl says that effective participation is absolutely necessary for the existence of a functional democratic order. This, though leads to the question of whether or not participation ought to be mandatory or willful, and it also begs the question of which is more effective. This is not a question for my world, though. In my world (this one, the one you are currently visiting, O reader), I am sovereign, and this tends to work well; however, my sovereignty often inclines me to call for praise from my loyal subjects. This also allows me to see who exactly my disloyal subjects are, so that I might remove one of their vital organs and take it for myself. One can never have too many organs, as I often say, particularly spleens. I have already explained why this is the case.
At any rate, I am calling upon my readership to effectively participate in the operation of my world, if my readership so desires. You see, whether or not you participate, I profit. If you do, I get a nice comment. If you do not, I get a new vital organ. Sometimes I wonder, as the philosopher Nietzsche put it, why I am so wise.
Now, you must be wondering, how can you effectively participate in my world and maintain the proper function of your innards? Well, all you have to do is answer me a simple question:
If I asked you to dance the Gymnopédie, would you dance it for me?
There is, in fact, a correct answer to this question. Incorrectness will not cost you a vital organ, it will only compel me to spit in your direction the next time I sense your presence.
Well wishes to one and all, especially to me!
At any rate, I am calling upon my readership to effectively participate in the operation of my world, if my readership so desires. You see, whether or not you participate, I profit. If you do, I get a nice comment. If you do not, I get a new vital organ. Sometimes I wonder, as the philosopher Nietzsche put it, why I am so wise.
Now, you must be wondering, how can you effectively participate in my world and maintain the proper function of your innards? Well, all you have to do is answer me a simple question:
If I asked you to dance the Gymnopédie, would you dance it for me?
There is, in fact, a correct answer to this question. Incorrectness will not cost you a vital organ, it will only compel me to spit in your direction the next time I sense your presence.
Well wishes to one and all, especially to me!
21 August 2007
Friendship According to Carl E. Seashore
Hello again, my friends. I very much like to speak with you, as it is good for the organs, and where there are healthy organs, as the doctor says, there is laughter. This is because one of the organs is the spleen, the source of all good humor. Any Sixteenth Century physician will tell you this is true.
From a book, a funny little book, I have gained some important insights as to the psychology of friendship. This book is the 1939 work Psychology of Music by Carl E. Seashore. It covers many topics, including psychology, music, primitive peoples and their expressions, the wonders of positivism (note the year), and the wonders of friendship.
Seashore first advises us that "memory is like a friend; trust him and he will be true to you. This rule requires a careful planning and a well-sustained policy in order thay you may not have any difficulty in practicing by recall instead of by impression."
I personally suggest formulating this policy through careful empirical investigation and experimentation, utilizing the scientific method to its fullest degree. This policy should then be formulated using the amazing powers of human reason, being recorded on a living document, sustainable for the proper practice.
Not long after, he says "Recognize your friend and he will recognize you; cut your friend and he will cut you."
Now, this one is a bit more useful in normal human interaction. I cannot tell you, my readers, how often I have been forced to suppress my desires to cut you all, nearly every time we meet. It has gotten to the point that I have to leave all my knives locked away at home. I can scarcely carry any sharp object on me at all. I am sure you feel the same way, and I appreciate the fact that you have not cut me, either.
Now that we can approach friendship safely using science and reason, our social lives should be improved tenfold. Using our newfound charismatic abilities, who knows what we can achieve!
From a book, a funny little book, I have gained some important insights as to the psychology of friendship. This book is the 1939 work Psychology of Music by Carl E. Seashore. It covers many topics, including psychology, music, primitive peoples and their expressions, the wonders of positivism (note the year), and the wonders of friendship.
Seashore first advises us that "memory is like a friend; trust him and he will be true to you. This rule requires a careful planning and a well-sustained policy in order thay you may not have any difficulty in practicing by recall instead of by impression."
I personally suggest formulating this policy through careful empirical investigation and experimentation, utilizing the scientific method to its fullest degree. This policy should then be formulated using the amazing powers of human reason, being recorded on a living document, sustainable for the proper practice.
Not long after, he says "Recognize your friend and he will recognize you; cut your friend and he will cut you."
Now, this one is a bit more useful in normal human interaction. I cannot tell you, my readers, how often I have been forced to suppress my desires to cut you all, nearly every time we meet. It has gotten to the point that I have to leave all my knives locked away at home. I can scarcely carry any sharp object on me at all. I am sure you feel the same way, and I appreciate the fact that you have not cut me, either.
Now that we can approach friendship safely using science and reason, our social lives should be improved tenfold. Using our newfound charismatic abilities, who knows what we can achieve!
20 August 2007
The Sport of Kings
As you may recall, O wondrous readership, I promised that I would have more to say about a certain question. For those of you who happen to be degenerate, I remind you that this question was:
Could I beat him in a footrace?
The answer to this inquiry is self-evident. It cannot be any other way, for wherever I go, there I am. As I look around, he is not here, and I am not there, but I, being here, am where I must be, and he, being there, is not where I must be, for to be is the key to victory, to be at the finish, that is, and I have two feet. On these feet, I must declare, I have toes, five on each one, and that makes ten. As Baron Medusa put it, "...Five plus three makes eleven... take four leaves six... two plus seven makes eighteen. / That's right..." We shall yet turn a profit on these numbers, which count the appendages of Mankind. O the appendages of Mankind! Without them, how could there be a footrace? How could I throw a ball farther than he? After all, he is the fool who starts miles upon miles behind me. There is no hope for that one. How does he expect to meet with kings? How shall he suppress his bizarre thoughts, when he is miles away? There will be no need; the kings are not there to hear him. If there is one thing that can be learned from this, it is thus:
There are some who can walk on water. You should all see the film and read the book.
No, read the other book.
Could I beat him in a footrace?
The answer to this inquiry is self-evident. It cannot be any other way, for wherever I go, there I am. As I look around, he is not here, and I am not there, but I, being here, am where I must be, and he, being there, is not where I must be, for to be is the key to victory, to be at the finish, that is, and I have two feet. On these feet, I must declare, I have toes, five on each one, and that makes ten. As Baron Medusa put it, "...Five plus three makes eleven... take four leaves six... two plus seven makes eighteen. / That's right..." We shall yet turn a profit on these numbers, which count the appendages of Mankind. O the appendages of Mankind! Without them, how could there be a footrace? How could I throw a ball farther than he? After all, he is the fool who starts miles upon miles behind me. There is no hope for that one. How does he expect to meet with kings? How shall he suppress his bizarre thoughts, when he is miles away? There will be no need; the kings are not there to hear him. If there is one thing that can be learned from this, it is thus:
There are some who can walk on water. You should all see the film and read the book.
No, read the other book.
18 August 2007
How to Stay Alive and Not Die
Yesterday I taught you, my loyal readers, of the dangers of eating and drinking. Today we are going to learn of the dangers of such foolhardy activities as breathing (with one or two working lungs), moving, sleeping, waking, and (in one fell swoop) living.
I am not inclined to believe that it is necessary to explain how any of these endeavors, among many others, might cut short one's life. It is far more important, I think, to live safely, according to the principles put down in the diaries and letters of the late Edvard Grieg, who lived to the age of sixty-four:
Breathe the fresh air of Norway.
Do not see Paris.
Do not leave for Stuttgart until the end of the month.
Keep all would-be visitors and invitations off the neck.
Rest a little before going to the theatre.
Seek out a neurologist and take Finsen electric light baths. Treatment is only twice a week.
Go out into a glassed-in veranda right next to Oresund and lay yourself out on a bed bundled in blankets.
Stay indoors for a fortnight.
Postpone your concert.
Give up altogether the trip to Holland and England.
Avoid festivities on the 17th of May.
Find a poem to awake your slumbering vital spirits.
Do not tolerate all that partying.
Stay alternately in bed and in the sickroom for a few days.
Each day eat self-ground granulate with nuts.
Come Soria Moria Castle--the sooner the better--whether you be old or young, and rediscover the fairy-tale dreams of your childhood! You will be richer and happier for having done so!
As the late Bob Ross so well put it, "God bless."
I am not inclined to believe that it is necessary to explain how any of these endeavors, among many others, might cut short one's life. It is far more important, I think, to live safely, according to the principles put down in the diaries and letters of the late Edvard Grieg, who lived to the age of sixty-four:
Breathe the fresh air of Norway.
Do not see Paris.
Do not leave for Stuttgart until the end of the month.
Keep all would-be visitors and invitations off the neck.
Rest a little before going to the theatre.
Seek out a neurologist and take Finsen electric light baths. Treatment is only twice a week.
Go out into a glassed-in veranda right next to Oresund and lay yourself out on a bed bundled in blankets.
Stay indoors for a fortnight.
Postpone your concert.
Give up altogether the trip to Holland and England.
Avoid festivities on the 17th of May.
Find a poem to awake your slumbering vital spirits.
Do not tolerate all that partying.
Stay alternately in bed and in the sickroom for a few days.
Each day eat self-ground granulate with nuts.
Come Soria Moria Castle--the sooner the better--whether you be old or young, and rediscover the fairy-tale dreams of your childhood! You will be richer and happier for having done so!
As the late Bob Ross so well put it, "God bless."
17 August 2007
Liberal Education
Today I learned a thing.
We all must bear in mind that it is absolutely essential to maintain our Purity of Essence. Like General Ripper, I drink only purified water, but this is not enough. It is necessary to take the utmost care in all we consume. It never was the fluoridation. Remember well my words, and perhaps you will not be poisoned.
Five general guidelines:
1. Do not eat meat-like substance.
2. In fact, do not eat food-like substance at all.
3. If possible, find a food tester to die before you do.
4. If you consume tap water, distill it.
5. When you consume real food (the only kind of food), distill it.
I wish you all good fortune, for it as I always say:
Meat is far more interesting when it cannot be readily identified.
We all must bear in mind that it is absolutely essential to maintain our Purity of Essence. Like General Ripper, I drink only purified water, but this is not enough. It is necessary to take the utmost care in all we consume. It never was the fluoridation. Remember well my words, and perhaps you will not be poisoned.
Five general guidelines:
1. Do not eat meat-like substance.
2. In fact, do not eat food-like substance at all.
3. If possible, find a food tester to die before you do.
4. If you consume tap water, distill it.
5. When you consume real food (the only kind of food), distill it.
I wish you all good fortune, for it as I always say:
Meat is far more interesting when it cannot be readily identified.
Interesting things are not to be consumed. They are to be investigated by our intellectuals and displayed in our museums.
Remember well that which I have taught you.
Remember well that which I have taught you.
15 August 2007
The Mystic Chord
Transported to the Present from Monday 18 June 2007.
Good day, my friends. Today we are going to learn about Alexander Scriabin's Mystic Chord. First of all, here are its notes:
If you are so able, I advise you, my friends, to go and play the Mystic Chord so that it might fully be appreciated. Do this with the greatest of care, though, as this is a powerful harmony, not to be taken lightly. Avoid any disrespectful expressions in the inevitable bliss that you shall undoubtedly experience upon hearing it for the first time. Treat the harmony with the utmost reverence. It is mystic, after all.
Interestingly, as your neighborhood Music Theorist might point out, the Mystic Chord contains all four types of triad: the major, the minor, the diminished, and the augmented. Could a listener desire a greater harmonic experience? I think not.
When you hear this harmony, keep an eye out for flashes of light. They are often reported when one experiences the ecstacy that comes with such sound. These apparently constitute the mystical experiences that go along with Scriabin's work. They are common both among the mentally unstable and occultists, though I do not advise becoming either. All the same, and I cannot stress this enough, be careful with the Mystic Chord, my friends. Simply imagine the power it could have held in the completed Mysterium!
I leave you now with a final note. Though I have played the Mystic Chord many times and nothing mystical has happened as a result, Scriabin was still thoroughly psychotic.
Good day, my friends. Today we are going to learn about Alexander Scriabin's Mystic Chord. First of all, here are its notes:
If you are so able, I advise you, my friends, to go and play the Mystic Chord so that it might fully be appreciated. Do this with the greatest of care, though, as this is a powerful harmony, not to be taken lightly. Avoid any disrespectful expressions in the inevitable bliss that you shall undoubtedly experience upon hearing it for the first time. Treat the harmony with the utmost reverence. It is mystic, after all.
Interestingly, as your neighborhood Music Theorist might point out, the Mystic Chord contains all four types of triad: the major, the minor, the diminished, and the augmented. Could a listener desire a greater harmonic experience? I think not.
When you hear this harmony, keep an eye out for flashes of light. They are often reported when one experiences the ecstacy that comes with such sound. These apparently constitute the mystical experiences that go along with Scriabin's work. They are common both among the mentally unstable and occultists, though I do not advise becoming either. All the same, and I cannot stress this enough, be careful with the Mystic Chord, my friends. Simply imagine the power it could have held in the completed Mysterium!
I leave you now with a final note. Though I have played the Mystic Chord many times and nothing mystical has happened as a result, Scriabin was still thoroughly psychotic.
13 August 2007
The Secrets of Time Travel
In order to successfully traverse time and space, one must first understand the past. Lacking the time and space to give an adequate history of everything, I instead intend to focus on one event.
In my last post, I gave my beloved readers a readable copy of of a certain piece of music, which I made. Since then, several errors have come to my attention, and I just now replaced these photographs with newer, more accurate, and neater photographs. I believe that this at last is an accurate representation of my pen and paper scrawl.
Now, having understood and altered the past, we come to the present. In this particular present, I intend to recall the past, and bring it forth once more. It is an article I wrote on time travel in June. It seems to have succeeded in its mission to time-travel to this date. I am pleased to see that my experiment worked.
Traverse Time and Space Today, Maybe Yesterday!
My friends! Today I have something very special for you. It is a time machine. Furthermore, it is a spaceship. You may choose to call it a space-time machine, if you like.
These machines are relatively inexpensive, and they are extraordinarily simple to use. A child could do it, as could a senile, elderly man. I have seen both do so in the past. In fact, I daresay a cripple could use it! I myself have had the pleasure of using one of these fine devices before, and I assure you that all I have said is true. It was delightful.
You must be wondering how this device works. First I shall review the spaceship function. To operate the spaceship, one needs only to take a seat in the cockpit and apply the primary means of locomotion. Quickly you shall find yourself flying through space with the greatest of ease.
The time machine function, being a more "cutting edge" technology, as the butcher says, is somewhat less freely utilized. The machine, you see, is only capable of traveling through time at a certain rate, and it can only as of yet move into the future. Be that as it may, the time machine is even easier to operate than the spaceship. One needs only to take a seat, close the eyes (though this is optional), and wait. When the time-traveler arises, he/she/it will be in the future. Of course, when he/she/it arrives, it will simply be called the present, but that is not at all the point.
I am certain, my friends, that you can scarcely contain your desire to obtain this miracle machine. I am equally certain that you are full of wondrous imagination as to the machine's appearance. Your dreams shall be fulfilled, for here it is, the SPACE-TIME MACHINE!
And that brings us to the future, where the music of the past and present shall reside. It is not without good reason that I refer to the aforementioned work as the Music of the Future, and this good reason is irony. Anyone with any sense will tell you that the Music of the Future actually consists of three very consonant chords, mostly in four very basic key signatures. In Roman Numeral notation, these chords are the I, the V, and the IV (in that order) of C major, G major, D major, and A major (not necessarily in that order), but more on this later. Right now it is only the Music of the Present.
In my last post, I gave my beloved readers a readable copy of of a certain piece of music, which I made. Since then, several errors have come to my attention, and I just now replaced these photographs with newer, more accurate, and neater photographs. I believe that this at last is an accurate representation of my pen and paper scrawl.
Now, having understood and altered the past, we come to the present. In this particular present, I intend to recall the past, and bring it forth once more. It is an article I wrote on time travel in June. It seems to have succeeded in its mission to time-travel to this date. I am pleased to see that my experiment worked.
Traverse Time and Space Today, Maybe Yesterday!
My friends! Today I have something very special for you. It is a time machine. Furthermore, it is a spaceship. You may choose to call it a space-time machine, if you like.
These machines are relatively inexpensive, and they are extraordinarily simple to use. A child could do it, as could a senile, elderly man. I have seen both do so in the past. In fact, I daresay a cripple could use it! I myself have had the pleasure of using one of these fine devices before, and I assure you that all I have said is true. It was delightful.
You must be wondering how this device works. First I shall review the spaceship function. To operate the spaceship, one needs only to take a seat in the cockpit and apply the primary means of locomotion. Quickly you shall find yourself flying through space with the greatest of ease.
The time machine function, being a more "cutting edge" technology, as the butcher says, is somewhat less freely utilized. The machine, you see, is only capable of traveling through time at a certain rate, and it can only as of yet move into the future. Be that as it may, the time machine is even easier to operate than the spaceship. One needs only to take a seat, close the eyes (though this is optional), and wait. When the time-traveler arises, he/she/it will be in the future. Of course, when he/she/it arrives, it will simply be called the present, but that is not at all the point.
I am certain, my friends, that you can scarcely contain your desire to obtain this miracle machine. I am equally certain that you are full of wondrous imagination as to the machine's appearance. Your dreams shall be fulfilled, for here it is, the SPACE-TIME MACHINE!
And that brings us to the future, where the music of the past and present shall reside. It is not without good reason that I refer to the aforementioned work as the Music of the Future, and this good reason is irony. Anyone with any sense will tell you that the Music of the Future actually consists of three very consonant chords, mostly in four very basic key signatures. In Roman Numeral notation, these chords are the I, the V, and the IV (in that order) of C major, G major, D major, and A major (not necessarily in that order), but more on this later. Right now it is only the Music of the Present.
11 August 2007
08 August 2007
The Music of the Future
My friends! Greetings unto you, and peace, from God our Father and the Lord Christ Jesus.
Today we are going to discuss longing of the heart. My own heart is often full of longing, and I quite simply am not certain what I ought to do with it. It has been in this state for some time now, long enough for me to have responded to it on Sunday 27 July 2007. At some point, the aforementioned day became night, which is excellent for me, as I find that I am somewhat more functional and productive at night. That aside, as this night approached, I was pondering musical ideas, as I often do (typically to no avail), when an agreeable idea came to me. I thought that the sound of a series of G# diminished chords with the D in the bass played in 6/8 time would work very nicely to express great longing of the heart. As it turned out, I was right, and I worked for several hours until approximately 12:16 AM, at which point I decided that it would be better to sleep than to print myself more music paper (I ran out, you see).
I continued to work each day, constantly believing myself to be nearing completion, which was entirely untrue. When one abandons formal structure, though, these delusions tend to develop. They are friendly delusions, though, delusions that keep one constantly pushing for a nearby resolution, even when no resolution is near (but one does not know this. One cannot know this. One ought not know this.) The notes were completed in the midst of Thursday night. I added the expressions on Friday afternoon. It was then that I took my sacred right to affix my signature and the date to the final page. These features do not appear below. I did not feel that the internet was a good place to store my signature and the date of a dead day. At any rate, on that day, "Hurrah!" I could say. "Now I have expressed my longing in an esoteric form!"
Clicking on the photographs makes them extraordinarily large.
How lucky you are, my readers! I am going to share secrets with you regarding the meanings of the music. The first thing you might notice is the absence of a title. You might say, "Lo, hast thou truly written a work without a title? Come now, what callest thou it?" I assure you, it is endowed with title, but the title has words in it. I do not want you, O listener, to know what these words are for two reasons, the second of which is that the verbal association detracts from pure musical expression. The title is mine. You cannot have it, unless of course you already do. After all, you might.
The next thing you might notice, if you are clever, is that I have chosen to utilize the key signature of E minor. If you are especially clever, you might also notice that there is not much of a musical reason to do this. Indeed, my wise friend, I have chosen the key of E minor for altogether unmusical reasons. If you are so wise as to piece together what purpose I have in mind with E minor, then I cannot doubt that you are none other than myself, in which case I must ask myself to stop revealing my esoteric secrets.
What else do you spot, O perceptive reader? Do you perhaps notice that the final measure is nothing but a whole rest? Do you not wonder why it is there? I tell you it is there so that there are the right number of measures in the music. There absolutely must be ninety-one measures. There are other acceptable numbers, of course, such as 147. If a number of this type, the acceptable type, that is, (understand, there are multiple numbers of this type) is not used, the work will simply fall apart. The blank measure is perhaps the single most important measure in the whole piece. Without it, all is lost. It would be unworthy.
The rest of the secrets are not abnormalities. They reside in the music itself. For example, the final notes make an A major chord. This is of vast importance, but it is a purely musical matter. Diminished chords are extensively used, but again, this is a purely musical matter. These are not matters to be left unobserved or not understood. These are to be heard and felt, to be understood consciously or otherwise. One cannot forget the music itself.
The final thing that might concern my readers is illegibility. That is, the average human could not discern many of the notes in my handwritten copy of the music. This is why I have produced a legible computer copy. For interested parties, I can provide such a thing. For disinterested parties, enjoy the handwritten copy. I find it more pleasing to the eye.
Oh, by the way, I have subtitled the work (as I intend to do with future works) "The Music of the Future." I like to tell people (such as yourselves) that their children will be listening to it. I find this amusing because it is not true.
Well wishes to you all, and Godspeed.
Today we are going to discuss longing of the heart. My own heart is often full of longing, and I quite simply am not certain what I ought to do with it. It has been in this state for some time now, long enough for me to have responded to it on Sunday 27 July 2007. At some point, the aforementioned day became night, which is excellent for me, as I find that I am somewhat more functional and productive at night. That aside, as this night approached, I was pondering musical ideas, as I often do (typically to no avail), when an agreeable idea came to me. I thought that the sound of a series of G# diminished chords with the D in the bass played in 6/8 time would work very nicely to express great longing of the heart. As it turned out, I was right, and I worked for several hours until approximately 12:16 AM, at which point I decided that it would be better to sleep than to print myself more music paper (I ran out, you see).
I continued to work each day, constantly believing myself to be nearing completion, which was entirely untrue. When one abandons formal structure, though, these delusions tend to develop. They are friendly delusions, though, delusions that keep one constantly pushing for a nearby resolution, even when no resolution is near (but one does not know this. One cannot know this. One ought not know this.) The notes were completed in the midst of Thursday night. I added the expressions on Friday afternoon. It was then that I took my sacred right to affix my signature and the date to the final page. These features do not appear below. I did not feel that the internet was a good place to store my signature and the date of a dead day. At any rate, on that day, "Hurrah!" I could say. "Now I have expressed my longing in an esoteric form!"
Clicking on the photographs makes them extraordinarily large.
How lucky you are, my readers! I am going to share secrets with you regarding the meanings of the music. The first thing you might notice is the absence of a title. You might say, "Lo, hast thou truly written a work without a title? Come now, what callest thou it?" I assure you, it is endowed with title, but the title has words in it. I do not want you, O listener, to know what these words are for two reasons, the second of which is that the verbal association detracts from pure musical expression. The title is mine. You cannot have it, unless of course you already do. After all, you might.
The next thing you might notice, if you are clever, is that I have chosen to utilize the key signature of E minor. If you are especially clever, you might also notice that there is not much of a musical reason to do this. Indeed, my wise friend, I have chosen the key of E minor for altogether unmusical reasons. If you are so wise as to piece together what purpose I have in mind with E minor, then I cannot doubt that you are none other than myself, in which case I must ask myself to stop revealing my esoteric secrets.
What else do you spot, O perceptive reader? Do you perhaps notice that the final measure is nothing but a whole rest? Do you not wonder why it is there? I tell you it is there so that there are the right number of measures in the music. There absolutely must be ninety-one measures. There are other acceptable numbers, of course, such as 147. If a number of this type, the acceptable type, that is, (understand, there are multiple numbers of this type) is not used, the work will simply fall apart. The blank measure is perhaps the single most important measure in the whole piece. Without it, all is lost. It would be unworthy.
The rest of the secrets are not abnormalities. They reside in the music itself. For example, the final notes make an A major chord. This is of vast importance, but it is a purely musical matter. Diminished chords are extensively used, but again, this is a purely musical matter. These are not matters to be left unobserved or not understood. These are to be heard and felt, to be understood consciously or otherwise. One cannot forget the music itself.
The final thing that might concern my readers is illegibility. That is, the average human could not discern many of the notes in my handwritten copy of the music. This is why I have produced a legible computer copy. For interested parties, I can provide such a thing. For disinterested parties, enjoy the handwritten copy. I find it more pleasing to the eye.
Oh, by the way, I have subtitled the work (as I intend to do with future works) "The Music of the Future." I like to tell people (such as yourselves) that their children will be listening to it. I find this amusing because it is not true.
Well wishes to you all, and Godspeed.
My weblog could beat up your weblog.
My friends...
There is much to be said. There is much to be done. Let us start this off right, with an inquiry:
Could I beat him in a footrace?
More on this later.
There is much to be said. There is much to be done. Let us start this off right, with an inquiry:
Could I beat him in a footrace?
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