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The Formalism of Debates

What is interesting us in conversation here at the farm is that rule-seekers are angry that Jim Lehrer didn't do more to intervene and keep the potential presidents on point and within time rules. We laugh when rules are thrown out; when things don't fit in the box.

this is not Jim Lehrer using a bedpan

Those same rule-seeker objectionists demand a search and destroy Powerhouse military beholden to no small tyrant. (As a musical audience, rule-seekers would demand that a musical act start on time, play the numbers as they are recorded on the album and not behave in an unexpected manner)

Lehrer is just a small tyrant significantly more powerfull in the old tv model than the rest of us small tyrants of art, tv, internet, or print. The fact that Jimbo had no real voice or capacity to control a head of state and head of corporations is indicative of the normal state in which most individuals exist.

 ...and then there are the political aspects dealt with elswhere on the internet [This is Hell]... and also, we can't all be tyrants right? some of us are good neighbors.

this is Jim Lehrer

What is left but to enjoy when such rules are thrown out the window, like an old bedpan emptied vigorously on Jim Leher's head. In the cultural world, it is these moments of breakthroughs that are most memorable. The main point, inadvertently made on wednesday night, is that rules have power to the extent that the rulers care to follow them.

Your Person of the Part of No Part,

Aurthur Fournrussel


"100 Rainy Days" is in my brain

I am presently in the Shenandoa Valley of Virgina learning that there is a signifigance to the way that a thing is pronounced.  The way you say what you say speaks to your origin.  Right now, I am happy to pronounce Joy Mega's New release is out today.  If all pop music were as joyfully unpredictable as this skillfully loose band of beauty, I might start listening to the radio.  Joy Mega's pop kinda reminds me of Sun Ra's holiday album efforts.  It is always great when natural idiosyncracies are allowed to shine and even infect your brain a little bit.  I dare you to try to get the song "100 rainy days" out of your head.




Thank you Jimi

Being the occasionally petulant type, I could not help putting this video on, loud, as my mother was trying to listen to Sara Palin's perspective on the DNC. I walked out of the room and let it play. She never was a fan of Jimi.  And I seem to only be able to combat political puffery with the outdated stories of talented dead people and references to particle physics.

It comes by way of which presently has videos of Charles Bukowski, a rare photo of Emily Dickinson, David Byrne's new music effort, and an explanation of the Higgs Boson by a real scientist. A particularly good day in my media landscape. Thanks internet. Sorry mom.

On the Occasion of the 4th death of Jerome Baez.  


I have known only one man who has died so many times. He is like the wind coming from at least 5 directions. His own experiences of death count more than his actual deaths.

Jerome Baez was born once on the frozen asphalted prarie of the Northern Forest Preserve District of Cook County. This drew him much scorn from his southern neighbors when he ran for Spring Show President instead of student council treasurer. There is still only one instance at Sugar Ray High of a person running for President of a Spring Show that didn't exist and still does not exist.

Jerome Baez committed suicide when no committee whatsoever acknowledged his audition which took place under the portico in a hail storm. This audition was attended by one wretched soul who was holding a flute case like she was ready to jam.

His second death was reported in GlitchGulch, a trade quarterly, as a series of ever elaborate feedback loops that eventually crashed his cpu and fabanfed (pron. fuh-banft) his Public Address speakers. His waves were too square.

His third death is usually overlooked for its unusually boring qualities. He just sort of forgot what he walked in to the room for.

And now finally we are saddened to the trembling tips of our chins once again for there have been reports of an absent man where there was formerly one who made the most scrumptious beat drop soup. We were always amazed at his ability to drift into an involuntary deep sleep from the most precarious of positions. His pile of a director's chair remains unfixed from his latest collapsed sigh. Here is to hoping that the man of more than five winds has not passed his last. Jereome Baez, you will be missed.


Astro Space Party leads me on a strange quest

I'm gonna tell you what I did for 8 hours this week.  Expecting to battle a wizard, I went up to Game Empire in Pasadena where the bleachers are all set up for the Rose Parade, and there are banners with roses and its warm outside, which I'm not used to for Winter.  Driving through tunnels toward the mountains with Mussorgsky's "Night on Bald Mountain" got me pumped for my wizard battle.  Inside the Game Empire is carpeted gray floor with shelves of Warhammer miniatures, scale modelling materials, chess sets, every imaginable board game, and a group of card tables on a stage in the middle.  This group of tables was filled with men there for the weekly convention of strategy gaming.  I was afraid to ask what they were playing.  Never wake a sleeping dragon.  I can't say I felt entirely comfortable being in a place with so many bald top pony tails and strange mustaches.  I was looking for one specific thing.  A large red 12-sided die.

A bespectacled red polo shirt sales guy turned to me and asked "Can I help you with Something?" He's a sweet guy, friendly fellow, loves his job, has red hair.  I said "Don't give me any of your Shit! I need a 12 sided die s.t.a.t."  He didn't bat an eyelash and led me directly to what I needed.  I kept my distance though, his stonewall reaction led me to wonder if he's used to being treated like that or got the joke, or was filing it away for when he goes postal and casts an expanding foam spell on the the entire store.

You see, I was invited to make predictions for Astro Space Party, an accumulation of strange videos from artists and musicians with astrology as a starting point.  I wasn't sure what to do for my prediction considering there is no causal link between what the celestial bodies do and the individual personalities of us humans.  

The first premise of astrology is "As above, so below."  What above is affecting what below?  Cosmic planets seen on the horizon at birth affect my mood this week?  Oh boy.   I'm not sure I can get behind the reasoning, so I made a set of predictions stemming from Logical Fallacies (the SGU has a terrific list of these), and then rolled a red 12-sided die to choose the order of those predictions.  Furthermore I used that same die to make a musical arrangement  as the soundtrack for this effort.  I make no claims to the validity of this video's predictions, but I sure do make claims as to the art of it.  I hope you find it sufficiently Odd and slightly beautiful, or at the very least, quiet from the holiday storm.