Ignominion

Jingle Bells and Where Are You, Christmas?

2011-12-15T22:48:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas, y'all! Here's a festive rendition of a good ol'-fashioned tune from Crash Test Dummies which, well, sounds like it'd be right at home in Nightmare Before Christmas. It's tender music such as this which really helps me attune myself to the sweet spirit of the season.

And in case that doesn't strike your rank and vile fancy, you can also find prettiness again from Schmidt and Sharps in the vid below. Little Miss Schmidt has come a long way since "I Will."

By the way: apologies for the videos being chopped awkwardly. It's not my fault. Blogspot doesn't allow for direct video uploads anymore, and embedding a video with a wider-screen resolution than the one blogspot supports results in unattractive truncation. Fortunately the Christmas spirit fills us with too overwhelming a love of all mankind for us to harbour any sense of indignation or resentment in our hearts. Right?

Kasa No Hone

2011-07-31T12:53:00.000-07:00

I think that means "The Umbrella's Bones." But its merit extends well beyond it's lyrical genius. It has a raw power without being abrasive.

Michael Meets Mozart.

2011-05-30T21:28:00.000-07:00

Awesomeness? Another spectacular Jon Schmidt/Steven Sharp Nelson collaboration.

Quiet

2011-05-27T00:04:00.000-07:00

So this is pretty much the saddest song ever.
Rachael Yamagata.

My Love

2011-05-13T10:40:00.000-07:00

Sia, we love you.
(irrespective of who commissions thy awesomeness)

Exile Vilify

2011-04-30T00:53:00.001-07:00

Valve drafted The National to write this here sombre ditty for Portal 2. I get the sense the song was intended to figure bigger in the game, but now it's relegated to hiding in a Ratman den. And a bit of a shame methinks this; it's a pretty(,) neat song. The National has a talent for understatement, and it works brilliantly here.

Gravity

2011-04-19T20:52:00.000-07:00

It's by Lucy Schwartz and it's pretty.

Beautiful Girl

2011-04-13T11:38:00.000-07:00

Hey, I'm a fan of beautiful girls!
This is William Fitzsimmons' gentle paean from his latest album, "Gold In the Shadow".

Nice Dream

2011-02-16T20:16:00.000-08:00

This song is really neat. It's Sarah Bareilles covering an old Radiohead song,and it sounds amazing. Its spare arrangement is haunting and hypnotic.

Re: Your Brains

2011-02-07T23:20:00.001-08:00

Teddy says this is musically unappealing. I say it doesn't matter. Aesthetic or no, this remains completely wonderful. If it makes me happy, that must count of something, neh?
This is the genius of Jonathan Coulton.

Back Home Weather

2011-01-28T17:30:00.000-08:00

I can scarcely help but harbour strong feelings of devotion for this song; Matt Mays herein sounds so uncannily like Neil Young...except in the chorus, wherein he's just standalone wonderful. I heard my roomie playing this on his gee-tar and "Ooh," I said, "That's really pretty." He assured me it's a hundred times awesomer when Mays does it.

He even looks a bit like my roomie.

A Good Man is Hard to Find

2011-01-19T00:24:00.000-08:00

An' it's a dirned shame, ain't it?
A song musically interesting in all sorts of ways for which I'd make a fool of myself were I to affect to describe 'em. But it caught my attention on account of its weird timing--it's set to a 5/4.

This here bloke is Sufjan Stevens.

My Fight (For You)

2011-01-17T13:07:00.000-08:00

I don't know whether Greg Laswell is a fan of comedy or tyranny, but I do like this song. Yup.

Light the Shade and Message Stick

2011-01-12T01:02:00.000-08:00

A couple delightful numbers from Xavier Rudd. We love him too on account of his manish beardfulness, 'course. And he's just a lot of fun. He's another bloke who defies classification.

Parachute

2010-12-18T15:10:00.000-08:00

I was dismissive the first time I heard this song, but since then I've been hooked by its irresistible catchiness. All of the elements of this song somehow magically come together into something profoundly groovy. Its hard-to-place tone is mightily tasty.

Till the Sun Turns Black and Be Here Now

2010-12-07T19:34:00.000-08:00

No, that is not a really long and awkward song-title--it's two shorter and less awkward song titles, conjoined by an "and"! Ma-HA! I discovered to my delight last night that Ray Lamontagne has an album of which I was somehow perplexingly unaware, its namesake being the first of the above listed songs. Anyway, Mr. Lamontagne is super-cool; I mean, check out that beard. Now tell me you don't love him.
Ha! That's what I thought.
I love the rustic, cracked, aged-wisdom sort of feel he's got going on, which he also here beautifully meshes with lovely sweeping symphonics. It's kind of magical in its paradoxical down-to-earthiness and soaring, gentle transcendentiality.

Details in the Fabric

2010-12-04T23:27:00.000-08:00

A melancholy, sweetly hopeful acoustic ditty from Jason Mraz. It's a handsome, touching piece of work.

Hægt, Kemur Ljósið

2010-11-30T20:20:00.000-08:00

I accidentally happened upon Ólafur Arnalds whilst hunting down Ólöf Arnalds, only discovering days after the fact that I was listening to someone wholly different than the person I'd intended. And as it happened, Ólafur turned out to be a way more exciting find anyway. Why cannot more music like this exist? Most people who dabble in the art of the composer these days are too prone to experimentalism to really be musical. Ólafur here stands as a happy exception. The following is from his album, "...And They Have Escaped The Weight Of Darkness".

Around Us

2010-11-26T13:19:00.000-08:00

Jonsi (lead-singer fellow from Sigur Rós) said this of the birthing of his independent album "Go": “I started out trying to make a low-key, acoustic album, but somewhere along the line it just sort of exploded.”
So. Here's Jonsi exploding:

And It's Alright

2010-11-22T22:56:00.000-08:00

Lovely acoustic piece from Peter Broderick. An interesting fellow, he; he started off as a composer of sorts and then, seemingly on a whim, decided to get into actually writing versed music.

And for contrast's sake, this is the sort of music this fellow typically otherwise spawns. Eclectic, anyone?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WqQ30tEIdHQ

Jeroen Van Aken

2010-11-20T17:45:00.000-08:00

After three weeks of listening exclusively to Aqualung, I'm finally coming out of my cubbyhole and branching back out into strange and obscure musical territories; I've been rooting through a whole whack of peculiar musics of late. I intend to share o'er the next few days a few choice samples of what I've been exploring recently... So to kick that off, here's a ditty from Gregor Samsa--a specimen most especially suited to 3 am, gi'en its atmospheric, minimalistic, and frankly meandering quality. Mmmm...

Sundowning

2010-11-05T12:11:00.001-07:00

As you are likely increasingly becoming aware, I'm developing a wholesome obsession for Aqualung. I can scarcely help it. I mean, look at him. This man is beautiful. A man (delightedly--I feel totally vindicated) obsessed as I therefore am, I feel compelled by some deep ethical force to continue to share of his utmost fabulosity. This particular piece of prettifulness which I've had on repeat for the past few days came from his album, "Magnetic North."

The Lake

2010-10-21T20:51:00.000-07:00

Whilst I've already compulsively shared this with most of you by now, I can scarcely help but foist it forcefully upon the rest of you, e'en if I don't think you'll enjoy it; it is that wonderful in my books. I've been listening to it more or less constantly (although it beats me what "more" would in such a case entail. Stupid English phraseologies...) o'er the course of the last few days.There's something most especially magical and otherworldly about the chorus. It's like the rambling, melancholy, aimless verses coalesce into a transcendental ray of hope--it's moving.
Anyway, it's by Aqualung from his album, "Memory Man."

Blow Your Nose

2010-10-17T22:14:00.000-07:00

"...Right on my sleeve." Eewww, gross! It's actually a lovely song, though, if on the odd side. But then, this is múm--oddness is to be expected, both lyrically and stylistically. Besides, we learned from Garden State that the offer of a sleeve for the purposes of nose-blowing is a profound gesture of love. Therefore this song might lyrically be among the most loving songs there are! It's not just crass, see see.

Can you feel the love?

Beautiful

2010-10-15T11:19:00.000-07:00

No really, it is. That's just what it's called. When Apocalyptica lets itself simmer down a bit, they occasionally spawn something which is listenable. No, they never allow themselves the luxury of actually being happy--that's just not cool, y'know--but every now and again...they're lovely. This is the singular track from their latest album in which they, uh, tone down on all that passion they typically employ to make their music so, erm, distinctive. And it's pretty.

Cameron

2010-10-06T20:19:00.000-07:00

I've fallen in love with a mysterious entity known to me only as Elder Cameron, some God-like creature Patricia in her travels abroad in the world miraculously happened upon. He, in his unfathomable majesty, bequeathed upon her...a CD. From thence we with trembling fingers plunder the following tracks. Because moderation in this instance is no virtue, here are three little miracles for you to suck on. They are entitled, in order of presentation, "Give Said the Little Stream", "Through the Eyes of Another" and "Righteous Hero."

My eyes! He's too awesome!

Where No One Stands Alone

2010-09-28T22:31:00.000-07:00

As you're likely aware, I'm not typically a fan of bluegrass. But this ditty was powerfully employed in the trailer for True Grit, the Cohen Brother's latest project. Gi'en the supremely effective manner with which the song was used, I cannot help but love it. It's so simple and profound, haunting and powerful. These are the Peasall Sisters.

The Peacock Dance

2010-09-22T21:22:00.000-07:00

Hats off to Gaddian, who unearthed and sweetly introduce me to this little low-key wonder. It's my new favorite song, thick, smooth and rich as a blueberry smoozie. This is The Peacock Dance by Matt Kanelos and the Smooth Maria.

References to Peacocks and Babylon--how could one not love this? Mmmmmmmmmm......

Tonight is the Night I Fell Asleep at the Wheel

2010-09-13T13:14:00.000-07:00

Epic and grim is this charming waltz from the Barenaked Ladies:

Ignore the bird!

2010-09-02T13:04:00.000-07:00

Much akin to The Ambar,I've concluded this blog lacks purpose/direction. I can't e'en decide which, gi'en the ambivalence fostered in this stagnant domain. Thus concluding a focal point would behoove it, a thought struck me: dude! I could just share the groovy musics I'm finding as I happen upon 'em! Gi'en that sharing music is one of the greatest joys of my life, this appeals greatly to me. So to this end we hereby convert Ignominion into a blog of musicfulness.
However, gi'en that mp3s cannot be directly loaded up, I have to jump through some hoops to render mp3s as video in the most rudimentary way of which I know: to just set the tune to a jpg. So depending upon my whim, the picture to which the tunes'll be set may or may not be pertinent to the song.

Mmmkay, pumpkin?

To kick us off, here's a powerful little tune I rediscovered recently on Garden State. It causes my breast to swell with emotion. Like a tumor. ;)

This is "Fair" by Remy Zero,

The Sausage's New Groove

2010-08-04T22:41:00.000-07:00

T'day I was struck but an exorbitantly moving, invigorating, inspirational, and eminently life-changing epiphany. It may sound rudimentary and nondescript, but it read roughly to this effect:

Life is the ultimate RPG--thine is the power to decide what you want to be! Thou'rt not confined to an incidental fixed character-class as we may be inclined to believe; you can tweak and modify with the application of some effort any aspect of thy expansive character! Cool, neh? Infinitely so. You can build yourself from the bottom up, and that's way awesome; consider the astronomical expanse of characteristics you can play around with! In Diablo thou'rt confined to build only upon thy strength, dexterity, vitality and energy, and are relegated to employ these powers only for the singular purpose of slaying baddies. But check out the options available to thee in the real world! You can wear toe socks! Or eat pickles! Or dance (if you want to) and leave your pants behind! Or all three simultaneously! And by Chuck, as for that meat drawer of yers...um, what you can do with that...you could put meats--whatever variety you choose; these would be your meats, so there would be no requirements on the types of meats...you could pick....bacon...marbled meats...there's and endless selection, endless! You can toy around with your routine, your o'erall life direction, your speech patterns, your body language, e'en your emotions and the way you think! It's miraculous!
So the question arises, what do you respect? What character d'you wish to mold, to become? What scintillating masterpiece are you going to take the pleasure of creating with the life proffered thee? This is the most exciting and rewarding game you'll ever play--what d'you want to do with it? How do you wish to flaunt your flagrant, self-absorbed elitism? What custom super-hero d'you wish to manifest with thy own amply capable body and spirit?
I went on to gleefully list off all the character attributes I wish to toy around with--the charity of Sera, the eloquence and grace of Hawleigh, the enthusiasm of Miles, the ninja prowess of Nathan!--and the mentalities I wish to foster to facilitate reprogramming myself, laying the groundwork for building for myself a life anew, providing the ashes of my life with the flame I need to birth the flamboyant phoenix of a majestic new life. This surely is the auspicious prelude of a new era of this my glorious stewardship! This world I call my conscience is mine to bend ruthlessly to my will, mine! MINE!

Invigorated by my fresh new idealistic perspective, and eager not to abuse my awesome power importugulously, I gaily danced home (flowers blossoming beneath my feet, songbirds chorusing sweetly o'erhead, and the sun pouring down like honey) and proceeded to expend my newfound excitement for life laboring diligently to set up Starcraft II.

Every now again I'm struck by the impression that my idealism availeth me about as much as it would a sausage.

Garbage on HTML >.< garbage on html

Pirates Suck.

2010-04-10T22:24:00.001-07:00

My logic is undeniable.

A Havler Production Revisioned

2010-01-26T17:07:00.000-08:00

Noting in my gay exploits of last night (or this morning, if you will) that translators can turn mundane phrases into something poetic--or impenetrably opaque--and therefore beautiful, I wondered what translators would do to poetry, a thing already twisted and abstract. I've thus taken the joyous liberty of filtering A Havler Production through various translations, to produce the following:

Lost to desperate stuff
I was suddenly terminated on the number.
And it is here, though not poetry.

And we can hap'ly rest assured with the relief that we've not denigrated poetry through this revision, for the above piece of work has it quite right: this is not poetry. Not anymore. We cannot claim it to be lesser than the original, for this is, I think, a whole other animal. Not poetry, but something...uh, else. We're not quite sure what, but doubtless it is in its own right nigh on as charming. Apples and oranges, hon.

Well then, I am showing starveling.

2010-01-26T04:33:00.000-08:00

An incident transpired today which amusingly incidentally mimics the gist of one of 'Ren's recent blog posts; every now and again, given the direct correlation betwixt my surname and email address, I occasionally become the recipient of random letters in foreign languages--Slovenian, I assume. Today I got one which didn't seem quite so random and bot-generated as the rest, so I went to some lengths to decipher its message using various translating tools on the net. Here's what looks to be the sanest of the translations:

Hello!
Sorry to bother you! Today I will not be on the exam, because I'm sick and I'm sick this week. Therefore, we asked if they could be ignored for another date, maybe next week, after the third hour, if you please!
Thanks
Greetings

...and thereafter they become funkier:

How do you do!
Yourself sorry, whenas I am disturbing! Today we thingummy will upon go, whenas there and everywhere she turned sick plus there and everywhere upon sick this one week. Wherefore would you it is requested to post would yourself with ease bother upon I tother, mogul upcoming week, under favour of third hours to post you to go together!
Thanks
Well featured wishes

Whence are! Yourself Beg your pardon whenas there and everywhere matt! Today we will be upon thingummy šel whenas whitherward plus throughout yourself there is I am turning over weakness [wi:knis] n and yon plus throughout upon hospital un week. Why bi you , yes indeed yourself requisite for publicity yourself readily bi interrupter , when there and everywhere tother date , Mogul upcoming plays weekly newspaper , in compliance with upon I to bruise sand If desired utter II , yes indeed peccancy yoked in marriage! Thanks Well then featured hungry

How are you!
Yourself Sorry, I whenas annoying! Today we went to thingummy, whenas there and everywhere she turned sick and there and everywhere in the hospital for a week. Why would you, that is required for publishing it is easy to mind when I tother date Mogul coming week, according to the third hour To post to go together!
Thanks
No featured wishes

From where they are! Please Yourself whenas mat there and everywhere! Today we went to thingummy whenas throughout whitherward plus I myself did not roll weakness and yon across the Internet plus un week. Why would you, that you really need to inform the public, would have easily Interrupter, if any and everywhere tother date Mogul upcoming game weekly, in accordance with a bruise on the sand if I want to rule II, the impurity is embedded in the actual law! Thanks Well, then show hungry

Whence there are! Yourself You're welcome whenas whitherward plus throughout mat! Today we will be upon thingummy whenas go whitherward plus all yourself is not there and everywhere upset II weakness on yon plus plus under favor of un infirmary throughout the week. Why would yourself, yourself yes indeed yes indeed I want upon yourself to inform the world easily Interrupter, whether ubiety plus throughout tother date, Mogul upcoming plays sport weekly newspaper, True to weal I 1st upon Fiery pit If desired voice II, yes indeed really Peccancy and the traces within Wedlock! Thanks thereupon Well then I am showing starveling

From where they are! Yourself You're welcome whenas whitherward plus all mat! Today we will thingummy whenas go whitherward plus all alone there, and everywhere upset II weakness [wi: knis] n wi: knis] yon plus the benefit under un plus clinic throughout the week. Why would you, yes you really really want from you to inform the world easily Interrupter, or ubiety plus all tother date Mogul come play sports weekly, True, the richer I [wi: lJ 1st I n the Fiery pit II To voice that actually says, and traces of impurity in Wedlock! No thanks then and then I am showing starving

Whence there are! Yourself You're welcome whenas whitherward plus all mat! Today we will be upon thingummy whenas go whitherward plus world yourself, is not whitherward, plus throughout upturned II weakness on wi: knis upon yon plus plus yield under un policline throughout whole week. Why would yourself, yes indeed yourself yea yea yes I am wishing with yourself, yes indeed the World data easily Interrupter, whether ubiety plus all tother date, Mogul upcoming plays sport sport weekly newspaper True, yes indeed richer I wi: lJ 1st And he upon Fiery pit If desired vote II, yes indeed really yea Peccancy plus vestiges of old customs within Wedlock! Thanks Well then with that thereupon there and then everywhere I who, review Twist

...and so I am no longer so certain I have any idea what this mysterious entity is attempting to communicate. Autotranslators are a beautiful thing. Observing the coherence of the above, I don't know whether I should be delighted or horrified by the prospect of writing my new friend back-- translated back into her native tongue, of course. Given the modern prevalence of digital communication versus the usage of phones, one would think the telephone an obsolete technology. And indeed, one would be correct in so thinking; we see plainly here no telephone is necessary to play Telephone. :)

A Brief Observation

2009-05-02T11:25:00.001-07:00

Lookie, everyone's going insane! We should be friends.

The Import of Triviality

2008-12-06T01:41:00.000-08:00

Lately I've been reading the Lord of the Rings. A plethora of other more "important" books have I, but I nevertheless find myself more strongly drawn to this relatively trivial trilogy. Why? Would not one expect a more pragmatic, immediately applicable book to hold greater appeal? What does it matter whether this Frodo bloke tosses some gaudy piece of jewelery into the Cracks of Doom?

I submit novels prey upon humanity's frailties and stubborn stupidities. This is not to say such books are bad-- only that they are tailored to the right species.

Whilst it may be true that valuable life lessons may be extricated from the texts of such a novel given some thoughtful searching and pondering, a more straightforward "Self-Help" book would more swiftly deliver such wisdom. A novel, however, imparts mere situations and offers the reader the freedom to draw their own conclusions therefrom rather than cramming some ham-fisted admonitions down the reader's throat which they may more readily reject and more likely resent; I hesitate to pick up esteemed "Self-Help" books, for such books I feel insult my intelligence and assail my foolish pride. By ingesting the council therein I indirectly admit I fall short of perfect-- an admission I resent, proud creature that I am. In approaching such books as "What to Say When You Talk to Yourself" or "How to Win Friends and Influence People", I so do under the (subconscious, of course) assumption that I am a weak and stupid creature for having to resort to such a sweetly parental book to save me. With my fragile self-esteem thus wounded my brain shuts itself off to correspond with this internal image I create of myself of what I must be to be reading such a book-- and in so stupefying myself I expect to be spoon-fed (for of course the book is designed for the consumption of the idiot and the fool), and thereby decrease my receptivity to the precepts of the book in question, my brain not expecting to have to actually think too deeply about what it's reading--"Just fix me, already!" Thus, ironically, I am likely to learn more from a subtler book such a "The Lord of the Rings", for my brain remains active whilst reading it; I do not feel it insults my intelligence, so my intelligence I retain whilst reading it, and consequently tend to learn (or at least enjoy) more. This being the case I am hesitant to dabble in "Self-Help" books should I have a great novel before me.

This only explains, you may note, the allure of great novels over books which bear the "Self-Help" classification--"what of other non-fiction books?", you may wonder. What of that literature which pontificate at great length about music, food, golf, business, or celebrities? Close as such matters may be to my heart, aught I not to relish the useful information such books impart, especially given how they keep the spotlight of my own attention firmly secured upon their own detached subjects, safely away from my personal imperfections? With exception of the last of those example subjects (the supreme silliness of which I would best leave for another blog, but which silliness exonerates it in this instance from my scrutiny), I would say that no--er ,well technically yes, I should enjoy such books, but the question here is whether it is likely I will, given what has above been said. But I say no--next to a relatively useless novel, a factual book stands little chance of being my priority, and for similar reasons; such informative books are (to state the obvious) saliently useful, like Self-Help books. My subconscious mind understands this, and therefore feels constrained by my obligation to strive to be a better person to to read such a book-- and so in reading, say, "In Defense of Food", it is as though I am only catching up on something I should have already been doing anyway, as though it were my responsibility ever since I became aware of the book and which responsibility I've been childishly sidling away from since recognition of the book, thus planting the seeds of guilt. That being so, if I should indeed get around to reading the book in question, it would be with heavy heart and out of mere obligation, rather than for the joy of reading and learning, that joy being squashed alongside my perceived proactivity, which virtue imparts a joy of its own.

Pleasure in learning of relatively peripheral matters thus jaded, I turn to "The Lord of the Rings." Yes, as far as style is concerned, certainly it falls flat and appears to be dry and lackluster when compared to "In Defense of Food", so that is obviously not its appeal as might be the case for such books as "Twilight." Nevertheless, I feel no pressure from myself or anyone else to read "The Lord of the Rings", or even "Twilight" for that matter ; why bother, for of what practical use is it? And so I am liberated by its triviality, free to wallow in it, free of any pretense or pressure, and free to gleefully delve into its dazzling complexity and find therein innumerable insights into the way life works which I would fail to find in a more important, pragmatic, business-like piece of literature. Free also am I also to love the "Lord of the Rings" for these reasons, which effect is self perpetuating; who doesn't love to love?

Furthermore, as many fans of the fantasy genre would also attest, the great asset of that genre is the opportunity to dive into a great book such as the "Lord of the Rings" so as to provide the reader with an escape-rout from their own dull and lifeless reality to find instead an alien universe rich with high adventure, immortal love, vivid colour and a multitude of details to keep them distracted from the bills to pay and relationships to mend; why bother when one has Middle Earth in which to vicariously dwell? It invites creativity, stokes the idealist in each of us, and, frankly, is much more fun.

So does it matter whether that Frodo bloke destroys the Ring? Perhaps not, and that's what really matters.

Author's Note: Afore you come at me with your torches and pitchforks, allow me to quickly append that whilst I do find "The Lord of the Rings" to be laden with profound personal meaning, I do not advocate slipping off into an alternate universe and there idling away the rest of your pathetic days as one might drift off into a perpetual opium dream; I do not intend to suggest you set up "The Lord of the Rings" as the centerpiece of your life or revel in it as a drug. That would be stupid. Rather, I aspire only to explain in part my love for books such as that above mentioned. If you wish to glean greater meaning from this blog than that, then...well, if thou canst relate to any of the above, methinks this a great litmus test for whether you need to pull yourself together and get a life--and if not, perhaps you can propose how one goes about orienting one's life in accordance with that which actually matters. I gather I've danced around a grander issue at hand over the course of this compensation, but I'd rather sleep than pin it down, much less tackle it! Is not that ironic, given that I suspect the "grander issue" is the nature of apathy/mediocrity? That matter I would rather leave for another time. Perhaps, as with a novel, you'd best work out your own solutions to the issues at hand rather than demanding I fork them over you; you'll appreciate what you find within yourself more than what I have to say.