Post something just for the heck of it

[zoltanspawn]

Did I see this here on JUB originally?

 

[Kulindahr]

 

[cashwyatt]

“Irony is the song of a bird that has come to love its cage.” David Foster Wallace

We’re all lonely for something we don’t know we’re lonely for. How else to explain the curious feeling that goes around feeling like missing somebody we’ve never even met?David Foster Wallace

Worship power—you will feel weak and afraid, and you will need ever ore power over others to keep the fear at bay. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart—you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out.David Foster Wallace

 

[belamyi]

“Irony is the song of a bird that has come to love its cage.” David Foster Wallace

We’re all lonely for something we don’t know we’re lonely for. How else to explain the curious feeling that goes around feeling like missing somebody we’ve never even met?David Foster Wallace

Worship power—you will feel weak and afraid, and you will need ever ore power over others to keep the fear at bay. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart—you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out.David Foster Wallace

Worshippers are butchers of life and desire: when you start worshipping something, you start making of that something your everything and are therefore doomed to be deceived by the finiteness, imperfection and the insatisfaction derived from adoring something that could never fulfill anyone's expectations. Even those who do seem completely satisfied, are still assailed by the greater, grander possibilities of life that they left out for adoring one single object.

As for the feelings of lasting loneliness and of having missed somebody who has never been met, that is simply another aspect of the default imperfection of life as it is to be lived.
It is usually said that life is this and that, the little moments, the little things, whatever, that is, the exceptions whose exceptional quality that you take up as bigger than they are, at least in the most objective, simpler respect, to make up for the general meanness, sadness, insignificance of every little second in life as it is to be lived: well, that feeling of loss and loneliness derives from the natural aspiration to something that is not there for you to help you make sense of it all, the longing, the life, the missing...

That is the most essential pain of life: to feel the liveliness of life without any direction, any object on which to fix it, nothing to make all that life potential to make it worth in a living actuality.

As for the irony one, that is so wrong: irony is the song of a bird feeling compelled to return to its cage after having mocked at it from the outside: that is, irony ultimately leads us again to the "unbearable sadness", quoting Hark!, of life in general.

 

[Kulindahr]

 

[belamyi]

Worshippers are butchers of life and desire: when you start worshipping something, you start making of that something your everything and are therefore doomed to be deceived by the finiteness, imperfection and the insatisfaction derived from adoring something that could never fulfill anyone's expectations. Even those who do seem completely satisfied, are still assailed by the greater, grander possibilities of life that they left out for adoring one single object.

As for the feelings of lasting loneliness and of having missed somebody who has never been met, that is simply another aspect of the default imperfection of life as it is to be lived.
It is usually said that life is this and that, the little moments, the little things, whatever, that is, the exceptions whose exceptional quality that you take up as bigger than they are, at least in the most objective, simpler respect, to make up for the general meanness, sadness, insignificance of every little second in life as it is to be lived: well, that feeling of loss and loneliness derives from the natural aspiration to something that is not there for you to help you make sense of it all, the longing, the life, the missing...

That is the most essential pain of life: to feel the liveliness of life without any direction, any object on which to fix it, nothing to make all that life potential to make it worth in a living actuality.

As for the irony one, that is so wrong: irony is the song of a bird feeling compelled to return to its cage after having mocked at it from the outside: that is, irony ultimately leads us again to the "unbearable sadness", quoting Hark!, of life in general.

Yes, I know I should have edited this and that after having edited it, but that was obviously impossible to achieve.

 

[belamyi]

......

 

[pat grimshaw]

I love the first two minutes of this suite from the Vivien Leigh version of Anna Karenina.


It starts with the insistent sound of cymbals symbolising the Russian church bells tolling the end for the tragic heroine or perhaps the clanging of the old railwayman hammering at the wheels of the train that will crush her.

This version is conducted by Bernard Herrmann, whom you know of course.

 

[belamyi]

 

[pat grimshaw]

She's got that Gertrude Lawrence look happening—

 

[belamyi]

 

[GreyUnderscore]

 

[pat grimshaw]

"Cafe music" is not real music.

Pop music you listen to in a car or on a "Walkman" is not proper music.

Muzak you can listen to with one ear while having a conversation is not worth the effort.

So said the late Sir William Walton*

*he wrote an excellent first symphony and some stirring film music which was well and truly ripped off by those zagļi and vārītāji from Hollywood.

 

[Kulindahr]

 

[zoltanspawn]

For Harke and Joe...

 

[Kulindahr]

 

[zoltanspawn]

 

[belamyi]

That's me, that's me! I always say that

 

[Kulindahr]

Water vapor condensing in low-pressure zone behind a fighter pulling high Gs.

 

[belamyi]

If I were pat I should say that this old favourite of mine should suddenly become a mainstream hit