Track­ing down Tur­bosynth:
http://acapella.harmony-central.com/archive/index.php/t-1717183.html

Trent Reznor, tech­niques used for The Down­ward Spi­ral:
1) http://nothing.nin.net/int6.html
2) http://nothing.nin.net/int20.html
3) http://www.thegearpage.net/board/archive/index.php/t-293539.html

Com­mu­nity Sug­ges­tions:
http://www.thegearpage.net/board/archive/index.php/t-293539.html

My Home, If I Had Never Got­ten Married

I had heard it said that the older peo­ple get the cra­zier they get. I am not so sure this is true– it feels rather more like, the older one gets the less one val­ues the social fil­ters that dom­i­nated one’s younger life. It takes a lot of energy to keep one­self socially accept­able on all fronts. You start to care less and less, and more and more of your gen­uine thoughts come through as action/words.

This is just a thought that occurred to me whilst but­ter­ing my banana bread, which I baked last night; I was think­ing how funny it was that the image of self I strove to cre­ate as a younger per­son didn’t include such domes­tic tropes like bak­ing, but how they– now– give gen­uine plea­sure and I don’t much care about an exter­nal view, only about the end prod­uct (the baked good) and the hap­pi­ness it can bring (to myself, and family).

Any­way, nascent thought, untested, must think more on it.

There are three forces shap­ing the world, an Arab reporter I met in the Gaza Strip once told me: money, women, and journalism.

The Most Hated Name in News

Now that I am wrap­ping up My Infi­nite Sum­mer, mulling over Pemulis’ footnote-expulsion and wad­ing through Gately’s ‘post-default-setting-violent-encounter’ recov­ery, I turn my mind to the next book. And just to re-iterate that the uni­verse takes care of its own, another group is start­ing, though this time with Thomas Pynchon’s Gravity’s Rain­bow. I took this book out of the library once, inspired to do so by a set of incred­i­ble pen-and-ink draw­ings (one draw­ing for every page!) by Zak Smith, but didn’t make it far– can’t remem­ber why, it cer­tainly wasn’t unpleas­ant. Any­way, what­ever, nev­er­mind, the point is: Lushkin and I went to Barnes & Noble (…& Nobles to all the Rus­sians I know) and grabbed our­selves and good, fresh, new, industrial-press-smelling post-WWII lit­er­ary mas­ter­piece. Lucian quite enjoyed fan­ning the pages and mak­ing his pseudo-speak erup­tive provo­ca­tions at the peo­ple behind us in line. I quite enjoyed the chal­lenge ahead, and acknowl­edged the sur­pris­ing power of the group fac­tor as a moti­va­tion, mea­sure­ment, sense of belong­ing, what­not. Geo­dis­cur­sive tribes, I gather. Such as it is.

So life and I, we have an accord. Gravity’s Fall.