Signifying nothing

"Who's a good kitty?"

2009-11-07T14:30:00.001-07:00

"Who's a good kitty?"
Originally uploaded by Theorris

After a long day of wiping out rebel scum, TRS-80 is greeted by THX-1138 (that's what he named the cat.)

The mighty Arkansas.

2009-11-04T20:14:00.002-07:00

The mighty Arkansas.
Originally uploaded by Theorris

Didn't take my camera
Barely made my plane
Enjoyed watching dysfunction
That wasn't our own

Across the wide river
Someone found peace

Remembered to revise

To the left! Cha! To the right! Cha!

2009-10-27T18:24:00.001-06:00

If I weren't traveling this year for Hallowe'en (again) I'd definitely go as Rick Astley's dance moves.

It is kind of a reverse River Dance, don't you think? What he lacks downstairs he certainly makes up for with those damn flashy hand movements.

To the left! Cha! To the right! Cha! Palms down with side to side movement for "never gonna desert you!"

Cha!

As my old Irish friend Elaine said when this video came out way back when I and the world was young: "Pooooor Rick Asslay!"

Ghost Spotting

2009-10-26T17:31:00.001-06:00

Ghost Spotting
Originally uploaded by Theorris

On Saturday Christine & Eric, (at Awen Blog and a couple of other folks went ghost spotting at the Fort Douglas Cemetery in Salt Lake City.

I'm not sure, but I think I see something in the left middle of this picture. More information about the phenomenon can be found in this YouTube video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yu_moia-oVI

You Will Love Me

2009-10-22T20:30:00.001-06:00

You Will Love Me
Originally uploaded by Theorris

How self-centered flowers are. What egotists!

365 Day Project : I'm Out of here! or Don't Let That Door Smack You in the Ass

2009-10-21T19:02:00.001-06:00

365/365: I'm Out of here!
Originally uploaded by Theorris

I intimated previously on flickr that my last picture for the accursed 365 day project wouldn't be anything special or any more thought out than any of the other ones. My impetus for thinking or plotting these 365 day pictures flagged within the first week or so. It was much less stressful and actually more fun just to snap a picture from a moment's inspiration. That's why, as well, there are mostly camera phone shots. It seems like a huge waste of time to gussy these 365 things up.

Anyway--it was sort of fun and I will never do anything like this again. You will also not see a self portrait of me for some freaking time.

I spent my commute in this morning thinking of what new photo projects I want to take on, now that this beast is behind me. I am still thinking about using the Shipler collection housed by the Utah Historical Society. The Shipler family took photos around SLC from the late 19th century until the mid-20th century. My idea is to figure out wherever the photographer took them from and re-image them to show what's happened. I've tinkered with it a bit in flicker in the past, but nothing spectacular emerged. (I took pictures of the 11th East corner before the nimrod tore it down, and compared it to the Shipler photos.)

Or I might just go for a 730 Day self portrait project!

Yeah right.

Arrangement in grey and black: the Artist's Mother

2009-10-17T19:21:00.001-06:00

Arrangement in grey and black: the Artist's Mother
Originally uploaded by Theorris

I rue the day.

Do you remember when the summer was young

2009-10-17T17:54:00.001-06:00

Do you remember when the summer was young
Originally uploaded by Theorris

Evening Drive

2009-10-13T20:39:00.001-06:00

Evening Drive
Originally uploaded by Theorris

Driving by Sugar House park in Salt Lake City is pure pleasure. Too bad most people don't even notice it in their steel cocoons.

Interview project

2009-10-12T11:48:00.004-06:00

David Lynch is sponsoring The Interview Project which appears to be filmed by his son (among others). It is stunningly good.

When I first saw the project I assumed they were just going to go around mocking "weird America," given its connection to David Lynch. I was surprised that the depiction is not only not mocking even in the slightest, but treats its subjects with respect, no matter how wacky or mundane. These are more than interviews--they are long photographs.

The interview with Brenda Wray was one of the hardest ones to watch. The interview with Clara, despite its seeming mundaneness, is one of the most inspiring.

This modern life

2009-10-04T14:31:00.001-06:00

This modern life
Originally uploaded by Theorris

The amount of fruit that goes un-harvested in my neighborhood is scandalous. Not far from where I took this shot there is a wonderfully endowed pear tree, heavy-laden with the fruit of a fine summer. Most of it too has fallen to the ground, unpreserved, only later to be scooped up by shovels and thrown into the trash.

And so it begins

2009-10-02T18:53:00.004-06:00

Stockton
Originally uploaded by Theorris

Well it is that time of year again: the start of basketball season. Utah played Denver and waxed the floor with them--108 to 87 last night. Preseason, of course means nothing, but it is good to see the Jazz off to this kind of start.

It is going to take a great deal of work, of course, for the Jazz to get back to the height of the Stockton/Malone era. Perhaps the statues out front of the Meltdown Center will finally work some magic after years of some pretty mundane play.

With Collins gone, I'm not sure I'm going to have an Ostertag to bitch about this year, other than aiming that at the poor besotted Boozer.

In a weird, pre-season bit of coincidence, former Running Ute Pace Manion, who is currently a rather stiff Utah Jazz commentator along with the non-stiff Thurl Bailey, was in the Apple Genius Bar line in front of me yesterday. I was just working out that it was him when the Genius approached and said "Pace? What's your problem?"

I left it at that.

Thoughts on solipsism--an appreciation

2009-09-28T21:26:00.006-06:00

So there is a moment in Kaufman's Synendoche, New York

That the hero's alter-ego throws himself off the top stage

And dies a horrible death, face down in the fake concrete

Skull crushed to oblivion for nothing more than the love

Of the box office.

Or is it the girl whose name is on your breath?

Or is it the woman whose house burns continually

And kills her, eventually, or the wife whose shower

Runs continually, who is never there for you to clean

But you clean, anyway, and sleep in the walk in

Hoping to avoid the disaster that is imminent

He cries, before he takes his deadly doppleganger plunge

"You don't see other people! You only care about yourself!"

Or something like that.

Where does that take us? What are we to say to such

A suicide plunge?

How do you feel about yourself these days?

Have your noticed skin lesions? Strange moles?

How are your bowel movements?

But it is all fine, because the hero survies

The hero moves on in his existence of me and me

And just a little bit of you

Until the little voice in his ear says

"Die."

So you will die, earpiece in place,

And worms won't even consume

The last little bit of you sealed up

In some steel coffin.

Your pills will take care of the

Consumption

You remain, just as you are

Just as empty

Just as tiny

Just as

Just

Musing on Fairs of States

2009-09-25T15:16:00.002-06:00

Butter Cows
Originally uploaded by ribizlifozelek

How could I miss the State Fair for 10 years in a row now? I used to like going to the fair--particularly visiting the animal stables, and admiring how their owners had preened and spiffed up beyond recognition their cows or sheep or pigs. Further on, the chicken house was always unbelievably noisy, given that chickens are perhaps the noisiest bird known to man (save perhaps the previously-mentioned magpie) and not only cackle, but crow, and guffaw, and screech through most of the day. I also quite enjoyed going to look at the prize vegetables and wondered how in the hell they could get them to last not just through a county fair but through a state fair as well. It was a wonder of modern agriculture to me. Of course I never considered that they put in different vegetables to replace their county fair winning entries, but that would take the magic out of it. Then, of course, there are the oddities of the State Fair--the butter cows and the two headed pigs and, yes, the bearded ladies. Top that off with a heaping portion of fried food of every kind (yes they do make fried Twinkies) and you are set for one memorable experience.

After ten years, it eludes me how I could miss 3 whole weekends of State Fair. Why was I not drawn by the buttery goodness of the butter cows? Why did the cackling of the chickens not call me home?

(Photo courtesy of ribizlifozelek.)

Explanation

2009-09-24T21:15:00.004-06:00

I failed to expalin

That signigyingnothing

Is one long poem

We are the land

2009-09-19T16:09:00.002-06:00

331/365: I claim this land for everyone
Originally uploaded by Theorris

One of the best things about the Western United States are the vast tracts of public land. Those who live or have lived in other parts of the United States or other countries where public land is rare certainly can understand the crushing limitations when most of the land is privately held. While there may be arguments about its use, one would hope that the principal of public land and the freedom it represents will be continued in the West.

Public land, such as shown here up Big Cottonwood canyon near Salt Lake City at Solitude Ski Resort, can be put to multiple use. Not only is it a forest with a plethora of plants and animals, but it can support a ski resort and my beloved disc golf course. Of course, such multiple use of land use must be in moderation and conservation should be kept in mind, lest we lose this precious commodity. I do not use the term "commodity" lightly. One should be careful in talking about the spiritual qualities of land, given that the spiritual can be so easily discounted or refuted. To talk of value of the land (and perhaps spirituality) in economic terms is essential. The land does have intrinsic value beyond the minerals, the trees, or the recreational value it represents. It is difficult, however, to put that value in terms that don't sound hokey or hair-brained, but I attempt to.

We need such open space and non-owned land. It is a part of a full human life to wander the wild (or not so wild in my case.) My point is that we can conserve our natural resources and our open land and make use of it too.

As for the picture above, yes it is a joke, but I really do believe that this land belongs to us all. As Frost said, "The land was ours before we belonged to the land." In other words, we may think we posses the land, but it will, in time, posses us all.

A sad commentary on our times

2009-09-16T18:09:00.003-06:00

328/365: Brightness of literacy
Originally uploaded by Theorris

The Philadelphia Free Public Library is closing (hopefully just temporarily): libwww.freelibrary.org/closing/ . SLC's Library System seems to be in fine shape, however.

And a Merry Labor Day Eve to Everyone!

2009-09-07T11:00:00.001-06:00

318/365: Labor Day Eve!
Originally uploaded by Theorris

This is the eve that all good workers get a lump of coal for the upcoming winter from the Ghost of Samuel Gompers.

Inconsistency of folk schmolk or how Punk has failed us horribly

2009-09-04T19:52:00.009-06:00

A friend of mine really hates "singer/songwriters."

My questions to you, oh reader, is

1) what exactly is a singer/song writer?

and

2) do you agree?

Is it just the solo act guy who stands up there on his own, exposed to the world, and strums or strokes his musical instrument for all the world to judge without the collaboration of other musicians that my friend objects to?

Is that really where we are in music these days? Is it the solo person who makes the difference?

I can see that. Not to get all pornographic on your asses, but that does seem like, at least, watching a Tijuana sideshow or, in the macro a modern-day bard who should have remained in the safety of his or her coffee shop.

(Pause.)

But to retain the pornography, all that solo singing and songwriting is about getting laid now, isn't it?

(Pause.)

Maybe that is the ultimate objection to "singer/songwriter" music. It is either self-indulgent or just about seducing whomever you want to seduce.

(Pause.)

That is all fine and whatnot, but why do we really want to listen to such music? Isn't it really, oh reader, wish fulfillment at best?

Sadly, it isn't even that, because most solo love songs are about longing or the seduction itself. That last previous one I gave you a link to, for example. Catchy yes, and, like the Apple-esque cell phone hawker, I would be hard pressed not to used it as an excellent way to get laid or for people to buy the latest sweet sweet iPod-like cell phone devicenik.

Like the sweet November rain?

Isn't it all one in the same?

(Pause.)

Perhaps it is just my friend's attitude (you remember him, right?) is just a bow shot on the whole of dreadful notion of folk music. (Now don't get me wrong--I have a very eclectic sense of music and don't really hate folk music, but I do feel that I should represent the expressions of my friend here and note that, as Cracker said, "we need another folk singer like we need another whole in our head.")

(Pause.)

I can appreciate that.

La la la la la la la la la.

The greyhound was good, I thought. A smooth move to put a dog in a video. Dogs are universally loved and hated.

(Pause.)

The wholesomeness that supposedly comes from being a "folk singer" seems weak. It seems to be appealing, overtly, to some political banter or some idealism that is entirely unattainable and yet representational of the system, and is, no doubt, why Bob Dylan decided to drop "the folk" like a bogarted bong.

One can believe in social justice and change, but is music particularly about that subject really going to work? Isn't it about integrating the ideal into the song and not making it overt?

Does, for example, Lee Greenwood's "I'm Proud to Be an American" really work any better than Woody Guthrie's "This Land is Your Land"

(Pause.)

Don't worry, reader, the irony of Woody Guthrie's son singing "This Land is Your Land" to the effete Boston crowd is not lost on me, particularly when Arlo was such a folk rebel himself.

(Pause)

See, my problem is with the whole idea that the individual singer can say a god damned thing.

We privilege the individual ad infinitum. We make the one man (and it usually a man, although in our more "enlightened age" the one woman ) the "voice of a generation," the "leader," "the chosen one."

Folk music was supposed to be about the collective force or people, singing about their travails and their triumphs. Instead it has been made into the "singer/songwriter" and how to make a buck.

Not to condemn poor Arlo and all of his hippie generation, but I think you goofed.

Not to condemn poor us, but I think we goofed.

It is not the "one" the "guy" or "gal" who makes it special.

It is us.

Can you give it up to us? Can we move forward and realize we can be individual beings and yet we are a part of the whole?

(Pause.)

Magnetic Fields "All My Little Words" 10/18/08 Meymandi Concert Hall, Raleigh, NC

2009-08-26T21:30:00.001-06:00

I could never make you stay...

The Shield - All My Little Words

2009-08-26T21:29:00.001-06:00

And I could make you rue the day...

The Magnetic Fields, "All My Little Words" (Live)

2009-08-26T21:27:00.001-06:00

But we both know that's impossible...

All My Little Words - 8-bit version

2009-08-26T21:19:00.001-06:00

You said you were in love with me...

All my little words - Magnetic Fields - Acoustic Cover

2009-08-26T21:16:00.001-06:00

But I can never make you stay...

Magnetic Fields - All My Little Words - Cover

2009-08-26T21:15:00.001-06:00

I can make you fly away...