I'm a Rhythmic Sucker

I'm posting a song I find fun (although her other songs are a bit repetitive). I always liked the unusual but mellow rhythms - when I was listening to KJAZ at LA, I almost shat my pants when I heard a song with a very interesting (I believe it was 7 or 9 beats per measure) coordination between the guitarist, the bassist and the drummer who were all playing on very different beats sequences. Forgive my pathetic musical liguo, but as long as I understand myself, I never feel it necessary to expand.

Also, why did you erase the Deezer links, Daniel? You should leave stuff you're not proud of (although there's really no reason for feeling ashamed of any posts here). Some of mine are (by far) the worst, anyway. Remember, Little Timmy is always behind you!

Discover Abbey Lincoln!

Elephant

Some Hindus have an elephant to show.

No one here has ever seen an elephant. They bring it at night to a dark room.

One by one, we go in the dark and come out saying how we experience the animal.

One of us happens to touch the trunk."A water-pipe kind of creature."
Another, the ear. "A very strong, always moving back and forth, fan-animal."
Another, the leg. "I find it still, like a column on a temple."
Another touches the curved back. "A leathery throne."
Another, the cleverest, feels the tusk. "A rounded sword made of porcelain." He's proud of his description.

Each of us touches one place and understands the whole in that way.

The palm and the fingers feeling in the dark are how the senses explore the reality of the elephant.

If each of us held a candle there, and if we went in together, we could see it.

-As told by Rumi
C. Barks translation


All experience is an elephant in the dark.

Our senses and minds touch reality, are immersed in reality, yet cannot grasp reality within their palms.

In complexity, we reduce into simple parts.
In ignorance, we try to know.
For the sake of control, the process of exploration narrows down to an exploration of the parts.

The whole becomes a finite sum of constituents.

Result?

Dissociation from experience.

Diversity

"Alors que près de 7 000 espèces végétales ont été cultivées depuis le début de l'humanité, 15 variétés de plantes et 8 variétés animales seulement fournissent aujourd’hui 90% des ressources alimentaires de la planète. Cette uniformisation pose le problème de la perte des saveurs et de l’appauvrissement culturel, mais également celui de notre dépendance à quelques variétés alimentaires lorsque celles-ci se trouvent menacées par un agent pathogène, un insecte ravageur ou un aléa climatique.

Variez donc autant que possible votre alimentation et vos achats : ce conseil nutritionnel classique est aussi une bonne façon de soutenir la diversité biologique, qui n’a rien à voir la diversité croissante des produits dans les supermarchés, où les produits soi-disants « nouveaux » sont souvent faits avec les mêmes matières premières – du maïs, du blé, du riz et des pommes de terre."

-MesCoursesPourLaPlanete

The Sought

A good word? "Perfect." Such is our sought. We nurture praise and praise the vanished sins. The flow of soul's feelings and ideas are largely blurred by language yet language provides a means to transfer. I seek a life I do not know and am forgetting my own. I want it all or do I need it all?

I often find myself pondering upon the choices I have made. Always, I come to conclude that I would do naught the other way. I often find myself pondering about my future choices. Always, I am afraid.

All in all, it seems to me, support, finances, surroundings and all other possible influences, should not, and must not budge us off our stubborn ideological stances. Overcome your judgmental, and prejudiced minds to gain free thought - prose the feelings and thoughts.

I cry to myself. I know the emptiness, I know its cause, I blame it all on myself. Would I do anything any other way? Always, I come to conclude that I would do naught the other way. Filling voids with shallow aspirations and pastimes depleted of meaning? I can keep gambling. Injecting myself with a temporary miracle cure.

I solely wish to drift but there is nowhere to go. I want to float on the water, but I find myself impulsively flapping my arms as if I had wings. In my world, if I try hard enough, I will take off. In my world, I make the rules. In my world, even I have to struggle.

Bypass the brain. Free the soul. See it fly. Catch it if it falls down. Heal it's wings, don't let it cozy up. Make it fly again. Keep at it. Eventually, you'll free it and yourself as well.

A day in the monotonous life of a Taxi driver

So. Previous post sucked. But I'm not going to erase it nonetheless. This one doesn't seem promising either but we'll see where it goes. My posts, conversations and many thoughts, in general, seem to be momentarily-biased impulses anyway ("you're extroverted", Daniel would say). As a matter of fact, if I had the chance to relive my life from another point of view, I would chose to only feel and hear my thoughts and nothing else. Based on that, I would entertain myself by trying to guess the immediate situations and expand the thoughts evermore (as a matter of fact that could be an interesting concept for a book). Didn't make sense? Too bad - I'm writing this for me.

So, I took up the job of driving people from one place to another for money - I became a cabby. An interesting experience - that turned out to be. I met a few successful businessmen that supported me in my business efforts (emotionally). Met a great many maladjusted women (brought out some theories I may mention later). Even met a girl, that in any other lifetime (and possibly a little in this one) would have been a dream and a love (- turned out to be engaged and 27).

Overall, this job provided me with a temporary purpose, financial independence, an abundance of optional social interaction and so much free time to think (in the car) that a normal person would go mad. As I said before, when most of the humanly-necessary criteria are filled, we feel happy. - sorta,

---

Women. Fragile, subtle and bonded to society, they are. Place it in her head that she is neither fragile nor subtle; take away her longing for beauty and break away her loving bond - she will fall and futilely live a life of sought out desperation.

"They dance with ghosts" (to completely misquote Sting).

Unfortunately, America has no culture. At the very least, none that is strong enough to bond a people together. Enough to produce controllable mob-like behavior but not enough to provide three hundred million people with a purpose. As a species (and this is particularly true for women), must feel a purpose and a belonging, which, for the most part, is provided for us during our childhood; by our surroundings; by our culture. A culture is a mass-psychology engendered by strong engrained ideals and morals (something sociology ineffectively attempts to quantify). It is something that can only be generated through thousands of years of search and fruitless wars, not a few (admittedly efficient and revolutionary) centuries.

Well, anyway, my point is that, being the keepers of the culture, women are, seemingly, more affected by this void than men. But that which is characteristically American is vastly a due to a cultural void.