An Infinite Number of Monkeys

Today's track is Battle of Brisbane by the Pogues. Not all of these are going to be treasure troves full of insight and life affirming mottos and stuff. The Pogues are my favorite 'Irish music' band, and this is a zippy little two minute instrumental. In fact, it may have been back when Spider Stacey was listed in the credits as playing 'beer tray'. They have a lot of that 'downtrodden fuck you' attitude that you find in the best of classic Irish music.

Today's nostalgia is How Can the Labouring Man Find Time for Self Culture" by Martini Ranch, fronted by Bill Paxton (Yeah, *that* Bill Paxton, Weird Science and Aliens). The band sports some obvious influences (and personnel) from Devo and the B-52s, and not a little of the aesthetics of Talking Heads. This is another one that Larry is responsible for--it would not be surprising to hear this when passing by The Wrong Side of the Tracks, the house on fifth street we lived in while at college.

It would be easy to dismiss this as another vanity project, but I think that would be a mistake. It stands on the shoulders of its 'parents' and takes a step further, presenting the style but with its own stamp.

Today's track is Heart of Stone by Erasure, from their big breakthrough album The Innocents.

Our church had monthly teen dances, and kids were allowed to submit music they wanted on the playlist to be reviewed by Harold, the dance manager. A pretty girl brought in Oh L'Amour, murmuring "Just that one track--some of the other songs might not be appropriate." She had me sold at pretty girl, but not appropriate traipsed in a close second. I went to the local used music place, Happy Trails, and got both Wonderland and The Innocents. I loved them both, and going forward I bought nearly every Erasure album that came out, barring one album that was associated with an ex. This track has not really aged well, and I am less fond of it now, but it's still a good memory.

Today's eighties song: A Bigger Splash by Tones on Tail

This is the band Daniel Ash put together after leaving Bauhaus and before forming up with Love & Rockets. Honestly, I didn't know much about ToT until I was working at KBVR, and Everything--the big Tones on Tail catch all CD--was in the rotation bin. I liked the snaky and hesitant beat. The lyrics seemed almost an afterthought, like the words were designed as sounds to highlight the bass line.

Finally saw it. Hadn't really planned to, but positive reviews from friends. It was much better than I expected. The story definitely held me, the characters stayed interesting. I was a little disappointed that there wasn't more... satire, I guess, about the police state. I was glad that Anderson being captured didn't turn into a damsel in distress, and that she kept having things to do that were relevant to the plot. But can you imagine how fucked up a telepath judge would be, even after as little time as a year? That kind of horrible emotional shellshock either makes you a sociopath or a very badly broken case of disassociation.

A couple of frustrating things in an otherwise enjoyable viewing:
Why didn't Dredd take Chan's ammunition after killing him?
Why didn't we see Anderson using her telepathy in the last third of the film? We've seen her step inside somebody's mind and beat the crap out of them with her mental powers. The gun on the mantel shines brightly. What if, in the final confrontation, she distracts MaMa with head combat while Dredd picks her up and tosses her into the courtyard? Something.
Why does Dredd, the black and white rules are rules cop, pass Anderson after she trips two automatic fails?

Four wags, in a dirty crapsack world.

I've been reading a lot of self help books lately, because I need a lot of help.
One of the commonly recurring themes is that they ask you to think of the universe as an orderly directed plan instead of a cold place that doesn't care about you and will crush you if you step into its path.
Which is all good and fine, except that (a) most of the reasons why they tell you to do this boil down to 'because it makes you feel better' rather than 'because it might be true'. A lot of their support is full of confirmation bias and the 'cold reading' skills that get used by people talking to your dead relatives from beyond the grave. (Example: Have you ever been thinking of somebody and had them call you at that moment? That's proof that there's a god or something. Except, how many times have you been thinking of somebody and they *didn't* call you?)
I know that, in theory, I'm reading these books and I can take what's useful and leave the rest. But it gets underneath my saddle and irritates me. I Will Try Harder.

I am not Twitter savvy enough to figure out how to discern the context this was given in, but I claim full responsibility.


AlixMV
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AlixMV
@alixtersa
Jun 12

@merlinofchaos i'm a terrible person who has played too many RPGs with @cyranoj

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Interesting. Definitely different. Troi in a miniskirt as a callback and then male crew in a miniskirt as a call forward. Picard is a new style of captain--he runs, he surrenders, he begs, none of which Kirk could ever have done. Some odd scenes that seemed to have no purpose besides time filling. I can see why people thought Trelaine and the Q Continuum might be related. I thought Data was recruited as a companion during the show's run, but I was mistaken. A good start. Next, 00110110.

I don't care what Atlas says, I can't imagine killing any of the Little Sisters. It was never really a choice, and I'm perfectly happy never seeing it happen. And as much as I hate the Houdini splicers, I hate listening to Big Daddy's mournful groans and plodding steps when he has nobody to protect--partly because there's nothing I can do to improve his situation, crammed into a metal shell by an evil industrialist, shackled both mind and body.

This slice of life is brought to you by my friend Ivy, who has the most interesting things happen around her.

On my way to lunch this morning, a balcony crow swooped near in greeting. I smiled and threw down a couple Wheat Thins. The crow didn't call out -- sometimes they do, to let other nearby crows know that the food lady is here. Nevertheless, maybe ten steps later a crow swooped near again. I stopped and gave it its due of Wheat Thins. That crow, too, was silent. Ten steps after that, I was swooped a third time. I stopped. "Wait. Are you the same crow?" I swear it looked kinda guilty-proud. I looked back, and the previous two sets of Wheat Thins had been stacked up and hidden inconspicuously to the side where it could come back and get them all later, after continuing to shake me down as many times as I was willing to dole out. All conducted in complete silence, so that the other crows wouldn't come and participate in the Wheat Thin bounty. I laughed and gave it three Wheat Thins for being clever, but the gravy train had ended and it knew it. There was no fourth swoop; they can tell when you're on to them.