Floater

A Musical Moment (#SinisterMinister)

#SinisterMinister | #WhatTheyVotedFor

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The great angst needs a new great release.

Good morning, children! How nice to see you again! I hope you’re ready for your lesson today, hey-hey! To build your spiritual self we’ll start erasing the self; suppress those tiny Devils boiling in your bone! Your whole life you’ve been softly fading. Once you were strong, but now degrading and searching for a light to lead the way. That’s me, I’m a holy spastic. I’ll make you feel you’re made of blood in a world that’s plastic; take my hand, ’cause only I can show you the way, and all the way. The sinister minister’s grinning: What have I got to offer? What have you got to lose in your alcohol haze, in this soft disgrace, when you could be mine and even God needs lambs, and I am the Shepherd? I am the Shepherd! I hate to see you cry: place your hand in mine, and I’ll hate it. And why do you want to suffer? What are you trying to prove in your sick little phase? You’ve got your hands upraised. You could be clean, and you know I need lambs, and I am the Shepherd. You know I’m the Shpeherd! I hate to see you cry: Bleach that soiled life and take your place in line. And now you know all the way. I will be grinning, oh!

Floater, “Minister” (1998)

A Midday Musical Meditation (Tell the Captain)

Detail of cover art for 'Sink' by Floater, Elemental Records, 1993.

It really is something of a song, well, not quite for all occasions, but, rather, with myriad suitable applications. Choose your metaphor; the Captain has already picked his poison.

Go and tell the Captain, waves are growing high, and anyone washed overboard, leave them here to die. Go, now, tell his mistress, who lies in sheets of wine, the candles and the invocations will not bring down the tide. He’s abandoned any hope of life now; the endless storms that rage upon us grow from ripples in his mind. He has chosen darkness over light now; mistress and crew have lied and left him to be cold.

Floater, “Tell the Captain/Out of Sheer Loneliness” (1993)

Election Day

The dome of the U.S. Capitol building.

You can beat them by a mile in America. You’ll be laughing all the while, in America. They don’t care how you do it in America; just do it with style and a smile.

So cover your eyes, and cover your heart, and pray for the ones you’re tearing apart.

Floater

We might, of course, encourage people to vote their consciences, but given what passes for conscience these days that might be a bad idea. That is to say, conscience is supposed to be about somethng more than immediate personal satisfaction.

Iowa, for instance. Watch for the returns from Iowa; you’ll likely have reason to laugh, albeit perhaps bitterly, about the proposition of conscience in Iowa.

Certes, we can hope for better than what the polling suggests in the Hawkeye State. And nothing would make us happier at This Is than to be proven wrong.

One of the curses of leftism is that it is more often tragic than anything else when our fretful prognostications are demonstrated true.

Rob Wynia of Floater makes the point well enough, as we’ve reached a point at which uninformed voters might actually be a threat to societal stability. But this really is supposed to be some sort of democracy, so, yeah, vote.

But it would also be nice if more voters actually took time to comprehend what they’re voting on. And, hey, you hear that? Yes, you can get extraordinary praise for simply doing your job.

Still, though, today is Election Day, and the vote is not only your right, but also your civic duty. Please do not treat that duty lightly; otherwise you might find yourself in a position like Iowa, where the question is so much about what letter goes in the parenthetical note after a candidate’s name that Iowans are on the verge of humiliating themselves.

See Dick vote. Don’t be like Iowa.

Simplicity

Bidi McGhee at Solsbury Hill, 2010 (left); simplified (right).

Actually, it is pretty cool.

And so it goes. It’s actually a fun little toy; the caveat is to use large photos with lots of data in them. The generator is rather quite (ahem!) minimalist. For instance, this is a picture of our very own BD at Solsbury Hill—yes, that Solsbury Hill—in 2010. Trust us, the color version wasn’t much … better? more complex? Something. Nothing.

Oh, right. Those of you who haven’t heard Rob’s band, yetα, really need to get with it. No, really, what are you, too hip to be square?

Oh, wait … that doesn’t … er … right.

____________________

α Or his other band.

Image credit: BeanWalker/SimplifyThatSh.it.

A Brief Note to Facebook: She’s Dead

“We are born, we die; and the waves roll on. We are born to die, and the waves roll on.”

Floater

Ghosts and PostsFile under First World Problems.

In the first place, it is weird enough to learn that a friend you forgot to call back two months ago has since died, but only find out because people are talking about it on Facebook. That is what it is, though; nothin’ to be done, there—we were the “other” social circle that existed outside the family, and would have been the last to know, anyway. Nobody would have called us.

But then there is this idea that I have only heard about before; I guess circumstances preclude one from the experience before a certain point in their digital life. But the Facebook messages from the dead are a little strange.

That is, it might seem cruel to make the point to Eddie, as such, but no, Ali-Cat should not have children … because she’s dead. But news travels oddly in the n’ether; maybe Eddie is one like us, who only finds out too late, through Facebook.

He’s on her Friend list.

But, to the other, I am as certain as I can be that my friend is not pitching my daily pic. (“Today’s photo: Feeling a bit disappointed today?”)

There really isn’t any rant to be had here about automation in the twenty-first century; these things happen. The 21 Questions ad server is probably the absolute last to know who died last week.

But there is also a reminder that our names and faces, our very identities in the hearts and minds of friends, family, and community, are nothing more than commodities. And the beautiful world my friend wished for and believed in will never come about as long as that is true.

Life goes on … for the living.

Really, Really Cool

Rob WyniaPortland does The Wall ….

Rob Wynia of Floater joins a whole bunch of Portland musicians whose names, frankly, I don’t know (a.k.a. Bricks of Portland), for an acoustic rendition of Pink Floyd’s classic, The Wall.

No, really, check it out. No review I might pen here can possibly do this performance justice. I only wish I’d been there for the show.