Once more, if Nature had given a scope for things
To be forever broken more and more,
By now the bodies of matter would have been
So far reduced by breakings in old days
That from them nothing could, at season fixed,
Be born, and arrive its prime and of life.
For, lo, each thing is quicker marred than made;
And so what'er the long infinitude
Of days and all fore-passed time would now
By this have broken and ruined and dissolved,
That same could ne'er in all remaining time
Be builded up for plenishing the world.
But mark: infallibly a fixed bound
Remaineth stablished 'gainst their breaking down;
Since we behold each thing soever renewed,
And unto all, their seasons, after their kind,
Wherein they arrive the flower of their age.
Lucretius, "On The Nature Of Things" (50 BC) link
___________________
The Power of Dour fights the Flower
Fight the Dour!
Driving up the 5 freeway the other day, tapping out the drum part on the steering wheel on "It's only Rock and Roll (But I Like It)," I noticed the most remarkable thing about the song: The Ben Hur drum track! Watch this clip again:
Now check out this brief clip of the Stones' song I made; I counted out the syncopated snare beats to draw attention to them: Link
I had always assumed that Charlie Watts played drums on that track--wrong! It was Kenny Jones of The Faces, along with ex-bandmates Ronnie Wood and David Bowie! The incredible story is here. Here's what Charlie Watts says:
I didn't play drums on that, Kenny Jones did. I was in bed, sleeping at the time. They called Kenny Jones because he lived nearer to Richmond, it was done in a very beautiful house there that Ronnie used to own. Pete Townshend owns it now:
Keith Richards wrote about the making of the song in his autobiography, Life.
That's where I first heard "It's Only Rock 'n' Roll," in Ronnie's studio. It's Mick's song and he'd cut it with Bowie as a dub. Mick had gotten this idea and they started to rock on it. It was damn good. Shit, Mick, what are you doing it with Bowie for? Come on, we've got to steal that motherfucker back. And we did, without too much difficulty. Just the title by itself was so beautifully simple, even if it hadn't been a great song in its own right. I mean, come on. "It's only rock and roll but I like it."
You can hear traces of the original track embedded in the song. Listen here to the "quiet" part near the end--all the original players emerge: link
What about the Rolling Stones' big 50th anniversary tour? There are rumors that Keith Richards is fighting an unnamed illness. Here's what the man says:
'Basically, we’re just not ready,' says Richards. 'The Stones always really considered ’63 to be 50 years, because Charlie [Watts] didn’t actually join until January. We look upon 2012 as sort of the year of conception, but the birth is next year.' link
So Obama thinks high gas prices are due to a vigorous, recovering economy that’s supposedly no longer on the “verge of collapse”? There are so many fundamental errors in basic economics that it almost leaves one speechless. link
Of course, it's all according to plan: another link
My wife suggested that oil companies might be colluding to raise prices in California in order to help Romney. I reassured her that Dianne Feinstein was already on the case.
The [Chinese] currency manipulation has been going on for at least 10 years. I happen to think it was bad policy, but I understand why it happened. I did not personally gain from it to the extent that others have, for example by occupying an over-leveraged property or working for a company which does. I don't want to see military action with China but I wouldn't doubt that it will come to that.
Years ago, when I worked for a Bay area start-up with the late Henry Taube ("The Conversions with Henry" guy I blog about), we hired a young Chinese guy who worked for us for about a year. He was a hard worker but contributed no patents or publications (intellectual property), and left, returning to China. He ended up (according to my former boss) appropriating a decent chunk of alkane activation technology back to China.
Zhu-lin (I recall his name) spent what little time he socialized talking about how the map of the real China resembled a giant chicken, with Korea being the Korean peninsula as the wattle and Vietnam being the feet and legs. You can see this rightward facing chicken if you look at a map and use a little imagination. He said (ca. 1998) that it was only a matter of time before the chicken was whole again.
China has ancient enemies in Asia which I'm sure you know. They have historically been weaker and may not wish to remain so always, though that may be inevitable.
A comment just left on a old post here updated the status of Frank Lloyd Wright's German Warehouse.
The heir of the deceased owner of the warehouse has offered the building for sale to the City of Richland Center at a modest price. The community is in the process of organizing an effort to purchase and restore the building. It is structurally sound but will need restoration work to the decorative concrete friezes, tuck pointing of the brickwork and, yes, a new roofing system. Anyone interested in the effort can follow the project on FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/ADGermanWarehouse or contact the Richland Chamber and Development Alliance in Richland Center: chamber@richlandalliance.com, (608) 647-6205
I've been thinking about the 14 minute song called "Tempest" on Bob Dylan's eponymous new album. I had some thoughts, but then went fact checking and ran across this site which has a head start. I especially liked the insight into the old Carter Family song which I linked after the lyrics below:
The pale moon rose in its glory
Out on the Western town
She told a sad, sad story
Of the great ship that went down
T'was the fourteenth day of April
Over the waves she rode
Sailing into tomorrow
To a golden age foretold
The night was black with starlight
The seas were sharp and clear
Moving through the shadows
The promised hour was near
Lights were holding steady
Gliding over the foam
All the lords and ladies
Heading for their eternal home
The chandeliers were swaying
From the balustrades above
The orchestra was playing
Songs of faded love
The watchman, he lay dreaming
As the ballroom dancers twirled
He dreamed the Titanic was sinking
Into the underworld
Leo took his sketchbook
He was often so inclined
He closed his eyes and painted
The scenery in his mind
Cupid struck his bosom
And broke it with a snap
The closest woman to him
He fell into her lap
He heard a loud commotion
Something sounded wrong
His inner spirit was saying
That he couldn't stand here long
He staggered to the quarterdeck
No time now to sleep
Water on the quarterdeck
Already three foot deep
Smokestack was leaning sideways
Heavy feet began to pound
He walked into the whirlwind
Sky splitting all around
The ship was going under
The universe had opened wide
The roll was called up yonder
The angels turned aside
Lights down in the hallway
Flickering dim and dull
Dead bodies already floating
In the double bottom hull
The engines then exploded
Propellers they failed to start
The boilers overloaded
The ship's bow split apart
Passengers were flying
Backward, forward, far and fast
They mumbled, fumbled, and tumbled
Each one more weary than the last
The veil was torn asunder
'Tween the hours of twelve and one
No change, no sudden wonder
Could undo what had been done
The watchman lay there dreaming
At forty-five degrees
He dreamed that the Titanic was sinking
Dropping to her knees
Wellington he was sleeping
His bed began to slide
His valiant heart was beating
He pushed the tables aside
Glass of shattered crystal
Lay scattered roundabout
He strapped on both his pistols
How long could he hold out?
His men and his companions
Were nowhere to be seen
In silence there he waited for
Time and space to intervene
The passageway was narrow
There was blackness in the air
He saw every kind of sorrow
Heard voices everywhere
Alarm-bells were ringing
To hold back the swelling tide
Friends and lovers clinging
To each other side by side
Mothers and their daughters
Descending down the stairs
Jumped into the icy waters
Love and pity sent their prayers
The rich man, Mister Astor
Kissed his darling wife
He had no way of knowing
It'd be the last trip of his life
Calvin, Blake and Wilson
Gambled in the dark
Not one of them would ever live to
Tell the tale on the disembark
Brother rose up 'gainst brother
In every circumstance
They fought and slaughtered each other
In a deadly dance
They lowered down the lifeboats
From the sinking wreck
There were traitors, there were turncoats
Broken backs and broken necks
The bishop left his cabin
To help others in need
Turned his eyes up to the heavens
Said, "The poor are yours to feed"
Davey the brothel-keeper
Came out dismissed his girls
Saw the water getting deeper
Saw the changing of his world
Jim Dandy smiled
He never learned to swim
Saw the little crippled child
And he gave his seat to him
He saw the starlight shining
Streaming from the East
Death was on the rampage
But his heart was now at peace
They battened down the hatches
But the hatches wouldn't hold
They drowned upon the staircase
Of brass and polished gold
Leo said to Cleo
I think I'm going mad
But he'd lost his mind already
Whatever mind he had
He tried to block the doorway
To save all those from harm
Blood from an open wound
Pouring down his arm
Petals fell from flowers
Til all of them were gone
In the long and dreadful hours
The wizard's curse played on
The host was pouring brandy
He was going down slow
He stayed right to the end and he
Was the last to go
There were many, many others
Nameless here forever more
They never sailed the ocean
Or left their homes before
The watchman, he lay dreaming
The damage had been done
He dreamed the Titanic was sinking
And he tried to tell someone
The captain, barely breathing
Kneeling at the wheel
Above him and beneath him
Fifty thousand tons of steel
He looked over at his compass
And he gazed into its face
Needle pointing downward
He knew he lost the race
In the dark illumination
He remembered bygone years
He read the Book of Revelation
And he filled his cup with tears
When the Reaper's task had ended
Sixteen hundred had gone to rest
The good, the bad, the rich, the poor
The loveliest and the best
They waited at the landing
And they tried to understand
But there is no understanding
On the judgement of God's hand
The news came over the wires
And struck with deadly force
Love had lost its fires
All things had run their course
The watchman he lay dreaming
Of all the things that can be
He dreamed the Titanic was sinking
Into the deep blue.
