Today, December 15th, 2008, is the first COLLEGE “snow day” I’ve ever had or even heard of. I understand Portland does not get this much snow (which for me, being from MinneSNOWta and all is not a lot at all), but it has to be the ice that’s dangerous and not the snow…? Anyway, my Music & Language exam, which was a blogging party, was the one exam I think I have ever and will ever be excited for! But alas, it has been “cancelled” as the whole Lewis & Clark College campus has been shut down. Odd times. So instead I’ve been listening to a lot of good jams in my room and finishing my last paper/the semester off right! Here is a video from one of my most cherished bands, Digable Planets, which is a NYC hip-hop phenomenon via 1993 (the best year of hip-hop, including 1994…). So enjoy the snow, enjoy this vid “Where I’m From” which makes me so happy and proud of where I’m from! Even though I’m not from nyc, I still got mad love for it and miss it and want to go back ASAP. holler holler holler holler!

Doing a music analysis is very very hard. Donald Tovey makes it look as easy as 1-2-3. I have not gotten a great start to doing one, yet, but I think the main goal is to make clear WHY exactly I chose the piece that I did to analyze. As encouragingly noted by my professor, Nora Beck, this opportunity to take a bloody stab at a music analysis is meant to take chances in music/academic writing. I am supposed to teach the reader, allowing one to LEARN! Even though I was told to make this a larger objective, I’m pretty sure I would’ve done this subconsciously, which is possible a good thing. I shall try and let you know how it goes. Then, you can tell me if I taught you something.

Today, December 1, 2008, Ned Rorem, the ridiculously unreasonable critic of modern music (or any music but his own) essay Against Rock, taught me a new, useful, and intelligible word! BATHETIC: it is derived from the Greek word ‘bathos’ meaning to depth, but in regards to poetry it supposed refers to ‘bad’ poetry, or on a more positive note (pun intended, since this is for a music & language class…) it refers to outrageously performed and/or written poetry. This is how crazy Mr. Rorem uses the term. he claims that Mary Baker Eddy uses “bathetic stanzas… [that] promote[d] and function[ing] precisely like rock, are as effectively persuasive to another large group”. Yeahhhh, I don’t know what he is talking about, but if YOU do, please let me know? cool beans

Chopin: Nocturne in b-flat, Op.9, No. 1; Nocturne in c, Op. 48, No. 1

A ridiculously obsurd and uneducated to the max quote! I don’t even know what news source this was given to, but I’m pretty sure it is a response to a question during the RNC in Minneapolis, MN (my hometown, yet ashamed so many conservatives were at one place at one time so close to my humble abode…) 

“…I came to office promising major ethics reform, to end the culture of self-dealing. And today, that ethics reform is the law. While I was at it, I got rid of a few things in the governor’s office that I didn’t believe our citizens should have to pay for. That luxury jet was over the top. I put it on eBay. I also drive myself to work. And I thought we could muddle through without the governor’s personal chef — although I’ve got to admit that sometimes my kids sure miss her. I came to office promising to control spending — by request if possible and by veto if necessary…”

Draw your own conclusions…

I graduated high school in 2007, but as a requirement every senior had to give a senior speech. It could be about anything, but it had to have a purpose, or a message for the underclassmen about how or how not your highschool experience(s) were valuable. Below are excerpts of my rough draft speech… I then went back and responded in italics to how my thoughts and sentiments have changed since I was eighteen. The goal was to write a rant about something I believe in. I believe in life, I guess, and growing up and how powerful that process is over humans. Many people don’t think about this in depth, especially as a senior in high school. And instead of legitimately ranting about something else, I decided to take a previous ‘rant’ and further rant or give light to my past rant… so enjoy my rant and I hope you think about what I’m talking about and try to apply some of my thoughts to your own life. Go human connections! (The speech was given May 2007 and the later contributions were written 11/13/2008)

Senior SPEECH, 2007:

I dream about all the things I wish I had said. “Thank you” when I should have.  I love you when I could have.  But after a little over eighteen years of living I’ve come to a brutal conclusion: it’s natural to be afraid. 

I still consider this notion quite often… not the being afraid part, for I am not afraid in the same sense I was then, but the dreams of affectionate appreciation. I do not think the people I love most in this world know that I love them that much. Actions are louder than words, or so I was taught in 5^th grade.

            I’ve always thought that there should be an instruction manual for strategies on how to get along with parents-“teenager’s edition”.  An escape, a reference for adolescent girls on avoiding meaningless tiffs about how dying your hair will make you bald or helping with the laundry because there isn’t a maid service in the house.  But in my case, these meaningless tiffs began to mount and became a heap-full of troubles.

            It boggles my mind how lofty the adolescent mind can be… ridiculous notions of what ‘is’ and what ‘isn’t’. Now they are ridiculous because I have a grander sense of life, and in particular what I may do with mine. No, I take that back. I have less of a grasp on my life, per say, but a tighter grip on the crisp quality of life available in this world, but not so available in America. That is, unless it cost over $30 and you can purchase it at Best Buy or Target.

Every one of my classmates will be leaving their moms and dads, possibly brothers and sisters and even life-long pets at the end of this summer.  When the moment comes that you are finally all alone, independent, and probably eighteen years old, don’t forget where you came from.  You don’t need purchase any type of material possession.

            I wonder how many of classmates REALLY took this to heart? None. Maybe one, or two, but most likely they were little ninth grader already forgotten about my speech entirely. Perhaps, not? Who knows, I don’t.

“You don’t’ need those to be happy, no one is happy all the time anyway…” I wanted to give up.  Stop it all. Right then and there.  A continuous spectrum of dissatisfaction and the constant tug backwards in time.  Kindergarten was when it really was the easiest.  But, she, my mother, was supposed to be the one to say easy words of encouragement and at least try to instill some level of desire and expectation back into my life.  I’m a hypocrite, though.  I preach honesty and a “tell-it-like-it-is” attitude.  But the truth was and is, is that I don’t like to hear it.  I felt like I was wasting my time in every activity that consumed my life.  And every action that I made was consuming my time.  I awake not wanting it, time, to begin, but never wanting it to end. I stood in some twisted version of a waiting line.  For something to provoke even the slightest of a smile.  [No red, blue, or yellow capsule was going to change this.]  For such a long time, I believed so strongly in what I felt, it caused a tremendous loss of hope, trust, and faith.  I knew that no person or pharmaceutical was going to make it “all better”.  With my friends, I began to push.  With my family I shoved.  Only I didn’t sense anyone trying to reel me back in.  It’s so easy to hurt the ones you love, especially because you assume they will always love you in the end.  In most cases this is true, like with family.  But the guilt was too unbearable that I began to blame.  It’s her fault, it’s his fault.  No, it’s all my fault.  Shame, confusion, awkwardness, guilt, unacceptability, unawareness, drive, envy, debauchery, jealousy, dissatisfaction, uncertainty.  These were enlarged, reused, and recycled daily.  The ritual became to feel, regardless of how hard I tried not to, get all mixed up within, and then contemplate to a point where it became a fearful to even think.  A very wise man I like to call “dad” constantly reminds me that I have only been on the earth 18 years, yes, as opposed to 49, and that that is not enough to be so sure of what I thought of people, the place I was in, and what the heck I’m going to do when my life.  It was startling to think that my “negative Nancy” or “Debbie downer” sides were taking over me all the time.  Why was it this way and why did I constantly question why things happened that way?  It was simpler than I thought at the time.  I wanted to go back to being a child, a kid who never had to worry about things as trivial as a math exam or getting enough playing time in a sections varsity soccer game.  But, those trivial worries build up the minute you put those princess tiaras or superhero capes away, and run to Abercrombie or Gap to buy the trendy new fleece zip-up that blatantly reads GAP, just so everyone knows you’re a “cool kid”.  I wanted to go back to the time when teachers and parents told you to “dream lofty, and as you do, you shall become,” and you believed it with all your heart.  I don’t know exactly when it occurred that I stopped believing.  When the fear built up and when the doubt and rejection began to mill.  Like I said, I blamed.  It is easier to look and pick at things on oneself and to put blame on your surroundings and environment rather than check the actions and reactions you are giving.  It’s easier to look at oneself rather than admit the faults within oneself. 

I have never gone a day without food, water, shelter, or someone in the world to love me.  I have never truly suffered, by definition.  Compared to the deep evil and hatred and I saw in the rest of the world, I have no reason to be this way.  But what a lot of adults forget, besides how lonely and hurtful it is to be a teenager, is that there are different extents of suffering.  I give thanks for the life that is given to me every day whether people saw that I was actually was grateful or not. But what is the most painful internally is to be completely aware of every blessing you are given and still be completely dissatisfied. As you strive for something more.  More, more, more.  I had my eye on some non-existent prize: the ultimate. And it wasn’t me or anything I had.  Again, in high school it’s easier to be anyone, anyone but oneself. 

So, this is what it means to be a teenager, are these affections what define being a young adult, a very young adult simply growing up? 

At the moment I am positive that my story is not a complaint, it’s not asking for pity, it’s not being ungrateful, it’s not being selfish or self-centered.  It’s being young, compassionate, and in high school.  As troubling and hurtful as it is to go through, it’s called growing up. 

I am lucky to know and truly believe that experiencing internal agony is only a reflection of consideration and empathy I have for others.  To a point where I completely ignored my own needs, only mildly focusing on the wants.  The difference between need and want is something I wish people, including myself, learned at infantry.  The awareness of this quite significant distinction would save many high school seniors a great amount of anguish…

American society has and will always change at a pace no young person can keep up with. I’m certain that the happy and fully satisfied people in this world are the “growing” girls and boys who wake up every morning and no matter what happens, no matter how hard things may seem or get, take action in accepting how miserable and wretched life is and will become at times.  As ironic as it is, that is the truth. It makes sense because if you look at those that have few material possessions and are considered “lower class” in society are much more likely to be happy on a daily basis as opposed to those people at the “top” economically, with a beamer, Lexus, or Beverly Hills mansion. 

My class of 2007, my advice from my experience, is don’t accept that other people will know you better than yourself.  Find a reason to smile, or at least smirk, at the tiniest things, knowing that what feels right will be right.  And the right thoughts and right efforts will inevitably bring about right results.  I promise.

            I genuinely and whole-heartedly made that promise. And even though I added some up-to-date additions in the speech above, I still promise and intend to consciously never break it. but it is funny how someone can make such a compassionate promise to others and not fully believe it for themselves. Does this make is a lie? False? Or just veiled ignorance?

Another wise person in this world, Louisa May Alcott, unintentionally wrote the ending to my tragic, yet jovial story.  And it goes like this: “I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning to sail my ship.”

            I wanted to end my senior speech with this quote that I repeat to myself often. I didn’t. I think it was because it didn’t seem to fit the mood. I was unsure whether others would weight Alcott’s words with as much significance as I have, or still do. I wonder if it is irony that I incorporated this quote and now, two years later, I’m in somewhat of the same position of intellectual maturity and reading scholarly, yet insightful, excerpts about the Alcotts in a music-language course. Is it ironic or coincidence? What is the difference? Is one good and one bad? I don’t like questioning such things for my own mind; it makes me go somewhat crazy. But in writing I find it very purposeful to use this tactic to provoke the audience to think more deeply about what your writing, or saying. I think this is what Charles Ives was doing when he didn’t know the answers to the philosophical questions he asks. But then, I remind myself how many things about this world, or life in general, that humans simply are not ever going to, or supposed to, know and figure out.

So, in my Music and Language class we are writing an opera… and yes, I had the task of actually writing it. It is written with Wagernite tone and I had the help of three other classmates. It is crazy weird and hilarious and as soon as it is all scripted and organized, I will post it. But following are some dream-like arias and raps that are included… as well as the outline of the story and some scenes. That is all I’m going to tell you, I want to see what you think. Let me know please! Pee ess. it is supposed to be very confusing.

Preface: Meteor shower apacolypse occurs, zombies arrive.

The naturalists blame the progressers for the maltreatment of the environment,
the meteor was attracted to our planet because of the imbalance of the earth’s
energy which made it show up on the zombie’s radar.

Naturalists want to befriend zombies at first, but then realize that they will
become zombies too!  So they run away.

Progressives blame the naturalists because they want to make friends with the
zombies and now there are more zombies to fight.

Chorus line of zombies tells this story.

Opening Scene:
Floressence approaches her father and fights with him about the way to fight the
zombies.  She thinks they should work with the naturalists.  She runs away.

Scene 2:  She is disguised as a nature person, meets RiverWillow, they make love
and fall asleep.  Then the mother appears in his dream to tell him that he and
Floressence are siblings.   Then Ben sings an aria about his mother.

Scene 3: they meet with Fusion.  The dad sings an aria about his thoughts,
realizes that RiverWillow is his son.  DRAMATIC PAUSE, Ben and Fusion look at
eachother and acknowledge that they both know.  Decides not to tell RiverWillow
and Floressence that they are siblings.   They propose the idea of working
together to fight the zombies.  He says no.

Scene 4:   RiverWillow becomes a zombie, Floressence follows him.  They hold
hands as Zombies and walk off stage.

Scene 5:  Then both sides decide to work together because they realize they need
to reconcile their differences.   They have to defeat the zombies.
Collective song:  naturalists, progressives, the king, the mother spirit, the
two lover zombies, all sing.

SAMPLE ARIA:

Don’t be alarmed my son, you know well.

As a victim I fell to those zombies from hell. 

It is I, your mother, no other than Gazelle.

Well there RiverWillow named after the tree under which you were consummated. 

With you there was another seed simultaneously created. 

You might hated this or embrace it, the reaction is up to you.

But that girl is your twin, an actual part of you.

How uncomfortable!           

Don’t rush to soon to reject her out of disgust.

You united because of love, not straight out of lust.

Without her and her father there would be no tie

between us naturalists and those progressives to fight on and survive.

Even though there are differences that do draw us astray, 

without the technology against cancer you would not be here today

and would not just have gotten laid.

That goes to the both of you, might I add,

do not disclose this message to the daughter of your dad.

Live on and prosper.

Kill zombies and conquer the tribulations before you.

Remember that I adore you and I lived my life for you.

So I know deep down you will defeat these monstrous beings,

and if there is no other cure turn to sexual healing with your only sibling.

We need that link in the chain remain solid

and it will remain so if it does not come to her knowledge.

Keep your wits about you, for I have never doubted you.

Though those zombies tore my heart out, I am still incredibly proud of you…

(cc: Henry Chanin)

more, TO BE ANNOUNCED! 

“B-R-O-O-K-L-Y-N is the place that I stay…” Although not the exact words of Henry Chanin, also known as MC Says, he was also born and bred in Brooklyn, NYC. It is no surprise that he was heavily influenced by hip-hop at an early age as a product of the culturally rich environment. I had the privilege of sitting down with MC Says a couple days before he, along with MC Empyr, opened for Blue Scholars here on campus mid-October. We talked life, lyrics, and musical loves. “Most people would say I have a New York style of rap. That’s the people I listen to, that’s the people I learned how to rhyme with…” Chanin claims his early influences include Mobb Deep, Mase, Junior M.A.F.I.A, and more recent influences such as Billy Woods, Cannibal Ox, and Vordul Mega. It was at the of age of fifteen when he heard Afroman’s  “Colt 45” that he knew he could and should be maintaining the pen and the mic. His passion and knowledge of hip-hop as a culture, as a lifestyle, and as music is evident in his tracks off the premier album “In Peace”. I was aware that his passion surely mirrors his talent in our conversation as well on stage, despite the extra hard work he’s been forced to put in due to the stereotypes of hip-hop, especially in NYC. The hard work has paid off with his collaboration with MC Empyr and MC ‘O’ on “In Peace” (Pick up a copy TODAY from Mr. Chanin himself!). The album consists of twenty-two tracks including instrumentals, interludes and political quotes from JFK. The album is frank and has a rare sense of sincerity that is not so prevalent in new-age hip-hop. His lyrical honesty is even somewhat uncommon in underground artists of this day and age. Chanin is heard five times on the CD.  The MC Says “…it is just a showcase of what is to come…” I say ‘I can’t wait’… and I’m sure I’m not the only one. 

After reading John Cage’s ”A Composer’s Confessions (1948)” I realized that he understands my academic situation and the struggle I am having finding a balance between school and my creative nature. It’s hard, as you may know, living ON CAMPUS doing school all the time and being told to fill these prerequisites, or those needed for my major, which by the way I SHOULD already have planned out but I don’t. Anyway, I read certain parts that really sat in my mind and boiled for awhile. “I had determined to become a writer and ‘experience’ was certainly more valuable for a writer than education.” So very true in my mind, Mr. John Cage. I hope to some day say that aloud and then live accordingly. He traveled to France and lived in Paris for three or so years to get the experience he was looking for as a writer. Like Cage I hope to live in Brazil, perhaps even raise a family there, to get a non-American primary perspective on people and life. There are many more parts I could quote and tell you how honorably right Cage is, but you should just read it. It will be more rewarding that way, too. 

Enjoy this video some creative soul made to Cage’s Imaginary Landscape, part 1…

On Friday, October 24, 2008, I performed this original rap-poem in my Music & Language class to the beats of Boards of Canada’s “Turqoise Hexagon Sun”. Listen to the song and read it to the beat of that since your lacking my presence and voice… Also, I really love any form of criticism, so tell me what ya think!!

ROYGBIV on a Wild String

Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue,

Indigo, Violet, one, two,

Little love notes back and forth all day,

Taking from work and always making play,

I’ll remind myself you’re not reality,

No matter how badly I want you to be,

But things don’t have to make sense,

Just don’t look so confused and tense,

Am I silly for being this dense?

Real talk,

I’ll shine and bust a rhyme,

I’m on time to fine dine and drink some lime wine,

Like a nightrider cowboy,

On the right side drive,

Eatin’ cheese on my knees, if you please, Siamese,

Aristacats or Aristocrats,

Stuck between child and adult,

Never felt so strongly that I may need to yelp for help,

Forced to choose between black or white

But I’m,

Gona put up the good fight, hold on tight,

With might, to this kite,

Back,

To the days of unrestricted glee,

Subconscious desires to flee,

What is she?

1 part dreamer, half unconscious,

1 part ‘seeker’, that part’s monstrous,

just follow my candy-painted trail,

to the land that’s bound to prevail,

Where children always have the right to music,

Measure by measure, bar by bar,

Just go where the wild things are,

To alleviate and create,

Alleviate and create,

In the sun all day,

And there won’t be anyone to say,

“PRACTICALITY”,

“RATIONALITY”,

“HIPSTER VITALITY”,

You can be any color,

Just don’t tell my mother,

But you can bring your brother,

Tie him to the string and tell him to bring,

Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet,

You’ll eye it,

But you won’t, shake it, break it, take it, re-make it,

If humpty-dumpty can, even when he’s not a man,

Just a toy not a real boy,

Not capable of being coy,

Not able to feel joy,

Like the kind that floats where the wild things are,

Follow me,

We’ll take my flying car, park by el mar,

Trust me,

It’s not that far…