knotme
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https://arstechnica.com/science/2018/05/i-watched-an-entire-flat-earth-convention-for-my-research-heres-what-i-learned/ This article is fun, depressing, and a lot like the US House’s hearings on global warming.
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"Shared assumptions about understanding and describing the world through data-driven inquiry are under assault,” a very Mojo message, succinctly delivered by Thomas Rosenbaum, president of Caltech, in an email today. Growing up in a bubble of reason, I assumed these assumptions be widely and firmly shared, so the recent assault confused me. I’ve since concluded that these assumptions were firmly accepted by a minority and flimsily accepted by a majority, while another minority fumed in silence.
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Oh. So during Cyrus’s reign, it’s possible that the anguiped moved from Persia to India, where forms of it now survive in Hinduism; meanwhile Iran has moved on. And Buddhism that started in India spread to East Asian countries, while it was supplanted by Hinduism in India.
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I think it speaks to needing a sweater. Maybe I’m an unadmitted Gnostic.
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Oh, OK. I’m confusing Gnostics with Abracans.
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Yeah! I don’t see why a Cock God is any sillier than a flying dick. I still say the magicians and ventriloquists are getting a bum wrap.
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From Mojo 19 (GA 20), Kohl says or, in less belligerent terms, all religions deserve equal respect. But later in this chapter, he says And why not? Looking past the still-limp dick, I see a useless blindfold, pencil-thin mustaches, creaky marionettes, chickens, wand envy, and on and on. And while the Priapus group seems to have plenty of youthful followers, the aging Abraca group grows mainly by birth and marriage, a fate shared by many religious groups. But this comparison is mostly a matter of presentation. I accused AC of bias, and if I recall correctly, he replied that I should blame Petronius, not him. Indeed, Satyricon has been dubbed "the Priapic adventures of Encolpius …," and perhaps the story comments negatively on Gnostics. I haven't read enough to see. Abraxas is a bit odd to Western tastes. Maybe if Satyricon had been penned in India, Kohl would be today be afraid of chickens, snakes-for-legs, and wands, while ridiculing donkey-dickers. Also from this chapter, I would add a fourth, philosophy. When does a belief merit inclusion is this anaerobic swamp?
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Well, you’ve certainly made my day. A bonus is the painfully lovely rendition of Dido’s Lament by Elin Manahan Thomas. I imagine Kohl singing (an octave lower), soaking in the bathtub in his filthy tidy whities. ;-)
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And speaking of laments (Ch 17), here’s a cool link on lament bass: https://musictheorybridges.wordpress.com/2014/11/23/descending-tetrachords-muse-and-handel-are-both-sad/ One take away, to oversimplify a bit, is that the lament bass is so powerful, grabs so much of your attention, that it almost doesn’t matter what else is going on. Purcel throws in harmonies that might not fly otherwise, and Muse’s "MK Ultra" is just—well, it’s over my head. But doesn’t this notion remind you of Chapter 17?
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I think it’s fair to say that other characters in this story, if consulted, would complain that Jeff is an unreliable narrator. Adds to the fun.
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A cool article on dreams in The Washington Post, https://www.washingtonpost.com/national/health-science/decoding-dreams-6-answers-to-what-goes-on-inside-the-sleeping-mind/2018/04/06/69b6f7c0-2de7-11e8-b0b0-f706877db618_story.html?noredirect=on is reprinted from New Scientist, which requires a subscription, https://www.newscientist.com/article/2164099-dreams-decoded-6-answers-to-the-mysteries-of-the-sleeping-mind/ Anyway, the first question addressed, “Why are dreams so weird?” brings to mind Kohl’s dreams in Mojo 16 “Cursed."
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You’ll never need eBay or Amazon again: https://www.amazon.com/Mechanical-Husky-Blk-bg-33/dp/B00CXTMH34/ref=sr_1_2?s=toys-and-games&ie=UTF8&qid=1523238869&sr=1-2&keywords=mechanical+dog
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My browser blocks the photo or movie or whatever, the link itself is funny: https:…UPSELL=Y[ES]
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“Good form, pithy, but where’s the stretched meaning, the new or expanded metaphor, the novel use of symbols?” complains my college English prof. “Too straightforward,” I mutter under my breath. Certainly this poem is far clearer than Tre sober. Tre drunk is both deeper in content and more dismissive (or ignorant—who knows?) of landmarks of shared meaning by which we make each other understood. Is Tre agreeing with this poem as he gently scolds Ermanno in GA Ch 14? The poet Kohl may think he sees it, but I still don’t. I would have written off Tre as a nut, but the last three years have upended my sense of intelligence, comment sense, and the role of truth—especially a certain brilliant pediatric brain surgeon who thinks that the Pyramids were built to store grain. Forced to concede that brain surgeons don’t need common sense, I insisted that most people, for example engineers (such as myself) must have common sense. That hope too crumbled: truth, and the common sense that underpins its value, are luxuries to be treasured, like our vanishing wilderness.
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A recent article in the Los Angeles Times sheds light on two of the many charges lodged by Mojo’s characters against our social and political fabric: truth seems harder to come by than ever, and wealth is concentrated as never before, in living memory. “Major parties’ bases are more different than ever,” by David Lauter, addresses the first charge in its title. Within is a fascinating observation: Twenty years go, Republicans were more likely than Democrats to be college graduates; today, that’s reversed.
