Inter-Galactic Memo
To: All Personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: YouTube
6-21-2010
I spend an inordinate amount of time watching YouTube videos, listening to music. Mostly, I go for stuff I already know, memory lane, as it were, but I’ve been known to venture off into uncharted territory as well. I never intend to spend that much time. I always have a specific video or song in mind, but as I’m listening/watching, that damn string of useful suggestions to the right of the screen beckons me like a Siren, and I click on another, and another, and suddenly it’s like whoa! Here’s a suggestion for someone else, and I haven’t heard that one in forever, or yikes! I didn’t know those two people ever sang together, etc., etc., and before I know it I’ve been up half the night, lost in a kind of musical reverie.
Sometimes I run across a real gem, hitherto unknown to me. Like when I looked for David Wilcox because I wanted to hear The Eye of the Hurricane song, and discovered this insane Canadian of the same name—a middle-aged madman, blues guitarist of extraordinary talent. Most of the new ones, however, come from my children, and most of those from Chani, because she is CONNECTED. I get my fix of weird from Grah, who finds stuff so esoteric that even the internet is surprised. Like The Darkest of the Hillside Thickets, or Depapepe. (Is that right? I’m not online right now.) I listen to a lot of Chani’s stuff, with her band, Rubik’s Hotel, and some Crowd of Small Adventures, and Hungry Cloud, because my second cousin (or first cousin once-removed, I can never remember), Jack Wilcox, the Human String Bean, fronts them both. (For those of you lucky enough to have seen Thor at the Bus Stop, Jack is the Milk Strider.)
A few nights ago, I got an itch to hear “In My Room,” by the Beach Boys. It maybe my favorite song by them. So I got on YouTube and found it and listened, and loved it again, and then how could I not listen to “Little Deuce Coup, and then there was “Surfer Girl,” Brain Wilson’s favorite of his melodies, and on it went, "Good Vibrations", "Be True to Your School", until I found an interview with Brain. Brian Wilson is one of my hero’s, and a universal cautionary tale. I listened to an interview from the 60’s, with Mike Douglas, and then a long one from the 90’s. Brain is fried. His mind is gone, his brain burned to a crisp—which he readily admits in the second interview. Drugs, and poor mental health, combined to destroy one of the most creative and brilliant musical minds of our century. Oh, he’s still articulate, in his own way (and by that I mean he was never articulate), but he has trouble concentrating, and is the king of non-sequiturs. He wanders, and has a tendency to protect himself by breaking into song at odd moments.
Here’s this perfectly normal California kid, with a gift from God, who at 16 puts together a band of his brothers, a cousin, and a family friend, and somehow brings normally talented teenagers up to the levels of greatness by the time he is 19. And they let him, They listen to him, because his brain is on fire with melodies, and harmonies, and arrangements both manically complex, and angelically sophisticated. Then—because of issues with an overbearing and physically abusive father, his own innate emotional instability, DRUGS, and a manipulative, greedy, despicable, Svengali-like therapist—he is brought down into a living hell for decades. And through all of it, he manages to write and arrange—and produce—some of rocks most enduring anthems. He couldn’t perform live, though. Six months after their first big hit, which I believe was “Surfin’ USA,” he was home in bed, where he stayed for three years. In the interview with Douglas, Brain sounds like a PSA against drugs. He describes the many times he took (among others) LSD, and how wonderful it was, but what it did to him as well. He was very frank, very candid. Then, in the newer interview, the guy asks him if he ever took LSD. Brian says “oh sure,” and goes into some random, wandering diatribe, then suddenly stops. “At least I think I did,” he says, then looks off into space. “Maybe not . . . I’d have to ask somebody.” He looks at the camera. “I don’t remember.”
I probably listened to 30 songs that night, thinking about all of this, dismayed, and amazed at what he did, what he went through, and curious about what might have been under different circumstances. Then, towards the end of the long interview, he mentioned his two older daughters, Carnie, and Wendy, whom he barely knew while they were growing up, and I was off into a search for Wilson Phillips.
As you may recall, they were a female trio from the 90’s with a few good hits. Carnie and Wendy were Brian’s girls, and the other one, Chynna, was the younger daughter of Papa John and Michelle Phillips, who founded the Mama’s and the Papa’s. How she survived her father’s bizarre lifestyle is anyone’s guess. But those girls could sing. It was top-notch pop music, with a legacy unparalleled in music history. Nothing profound, but “hold on just one more day,” is a fine sentiment for a song, evoking all kinds of possibilities. I listened to all the stuff of theirs available, watching them, trying to imagine the dynamics in which they had grown-up, and were formed, and the serendipity that might have brought the unlikely pairing to fruition.
Maybe the reason I spend so much time doing that, reading about all these people, listening to them, and wondering about them, is because of the emotions it makes me feel. Music—even obviously commercial music—has a strong effect on me. Musicians fascinate me. What they do is so hard, and requires so much time and commitment before anything can really begin. I know just enough about that to make me particularly susceptible to the struggle, and the miracle of talent at that level. Hell, even the 1910 Fruit Gum Factory had talent. And although it makes me nauseous to admit it, even the Rolling Stones have talent.
We often marvel at how easy and effortless they make it look. But most of us don’t delve deeply enough to discover the years of sacrifice, of obsessive practice, repetition, and compulsive dedication it takes to be one of the great ones. Eddie Van Halen says he locked himself in his bedroom with one of Eric Clapton’s albums, and a guitar, and didn’t come out for three years—essentially his adolescence—until he could play every note of every song perfectly. You wanna see extreme skill? Go to Youtube and call up a band called Dragonforce. You won’t like them. They are a “speed metal” band, “shredders,” but they have a unique sound. Watch part of a video, listen to the drums and the lead guitars. It is impossible to play that fast, much less complex arrangements that fast, that perfectly, for that long. I can’t even describe the speed. You have to experience it. It makes one wonder where the limit is. What can’t humans do? Remember the 5 minute mile? The unbreakable barrier? Now housewives run faster than that, in sneakers, on concrete. And usually really ugly outfits . . . . nothing personal, housewives.
Sometimes people wonder how I can possibly know some of the stuff I do. Especially about music. First of all, I don’t know all that much compared to someone who really does. It’s easy to impress people who don’t know anything about something. And second of all, I can’t help it. I remember it. (Actually, my memory is terrible, chaotic. Except in a few narrow areas. ) I’ve read the back of every album I’ve ever owned (a lot), I’ve read countless articles, books, biography’s, I watch documentaries endlessly, heck, I used to subscribe to Rolling Stone—who does that? and I was a music major for a while. And now that YouTube is around, well . . . it’s even worse. I get to see them too. Ultimately, it comes down to curiosity.
It’s like the people who think I’m a pretty good musician. I know better. They usually only think that because they aren’t one at all. I think we all experience that. Yeah, I write better than people who don’t write, but I’m not kidding myself. I’m no Mark Helprin or Cormack McCarthy. I’m not even Larry McMurtry or Tom Clancy, or Anne Rice. Such is the nature of talent, of “the gift”. It is an infinite spectrum, a river into which we are all dipped, like Achilles. Some are dipped deeper than others. And like Achilles, something about the experience often renders us tragic, as well as gifted. Look at Brian Wilson.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Friday, June 18, 2010
IGM The Perception of Reality
Inter-Galactic Memo
To: All Personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: The Perception of Reality
6-18-10
I've been thinking about a statement one of my responders made, concerning the recent series of guest blogger contributions, and how some of us reacted. The statement was;
"The problem isn't corporate America, it is corrupt government."
Some of us took umbrage with that. But could it be possible that it isn’t either-or, but that they are both right? That the problem is corporate America, and corrupt government? At which point, the next question should be; "which fosters which?" Is one responsible for the other? If we look at a family metaphor, in which the behavior of the parent is modeled by the child, we could argue that the private sector takes its cues from the government. On the other hand, if a government is weak enough, it will kowtow to the pressure and demands of corporations. It isn't difficult to find examples of either. We need look no further than Mexico to see what can happen when powerful companies (in this case an Oligarchy) run roughshod over the government. Now, with drug cartels, it is even worse.
But what if government and corporate America are the same thing? Can a case be made for such a cabal? We may be assuming that one entity maintains a higher level of ethics that the other. Some of us think big business is more moral, and some of us think government is more moral. But what if neither can be considered moral? What if our situation is on a par with the Book of Mormon, where the Gadianton robbers become more powerful than the government, and have infiltrated the government at all levels? What if criminals sit in the "judgment seat," and we have essentially become them? And how do we know?
On the other hand, is it possible, in any kind of practical way, to assign concepts of morality to non-corporeal, non-sentient entities, which exist only in a legal sense? Can a government be moral or immoral? Can a corporation? Or can such considerations only be assigned to human beings, who work in and for these organizations? Is there a tipping point at which too many amoral or immoral people render the organizations behavior immoral?
Could a case be made for sufficient corruption, greed, and ineptitude on the part of both systems? For example, the entire country is divided as to where to place the blame for the BP oil spill. Is it a corporate or government responsibility? How would each of us answer this question: would the oil spill be more likely to not have happened if BP were more ethical, or if the government were bigger--exercised greater control and oversight?
Can presumed authority overcome dedicated greed?
Can corporate ethics overcome governmental corruption? I repeat my question from an earlier IGM; why did BP have no reliable and effective contingency plan in place for such an event? And, conversely, why did the government not require such a plan and/or technology? And if government did require it, why did they not know it was not in place and functioning?
We could chose from far too many examples besides the oil spill, but why bother?
How do our mind-sets gravitate to one set of assumptions or another? What is the process?
And if everything happens more or less in a causative vacuum, how would we ever arrive at any kind of explanation? Of course, perhaps it doesn't work that way. Maybe the world isn't ruled by coincidence and randomness. Maybe there is no such thing as a coincidence. But if that is true, how do we trace the inevitable pattern of necessary events which lead to all other events? Is all that really just a matter of opinion?
It might be interesting to take some kind of poll, find out where we agree and disagree on specific issues, and basic principles. And remember, issues and principles are not the same thing. Issues have no principles; but principles define and control issues. The oil spill is a perfect example. Was the explosion and resultant spill the result of a failure of issues or of misapplied principles? Does that even make sense?
And we need to remember that it appears as if the application of principles to specific issues can be wildly divergent, even when we adhere to the same basic principles. For example, we all believe in the necessity of laws, and protecting the public interest, and the necessity of incarceration for people who violate said laws and interests. But how we deal with the specific issues involved is often varied. Some of us accept the concept of the death penalty, some do not. Some insist on rehabilitation, and others insist that rehabilitation is ineffective and largely useless. Look at how we argue over such fundamental things like the Bill of Rights. There is no disagreement on their importance and desirability, but get more than three people together and how we interpret those Rights, and apply them, is all over the map. Why is that?
To quote Steve Stills, “there’s something happening here . . .” But do any of us agree as to what is happening, and why it’s happening?
And for those of you who have no idea what a Gadianton Robber is, I guess you’re just going to have to read the Book of Mormon. How sly is that?
--
You don't use science to show that you're right; you use science to become right.
XKCD
To: All Personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: The Perception of Reality
6-18-10
I've been thinking about a statement one of my responders made, concerning the recent series of guest blogger contributions, and how some of us reacted. The statement was;
"The problem isn't corporate America, it is corrupt government."
Some of us took umbrage with that. But could it be possible that it isn’t either-or, but that they are both right? That the problem is corporate America, and corrupt government? At which point, the next question should be; "which fosters which?" Is one responsible for the other? If we look at a family metaphor, in which the behavior of the parent is modeled by the child, we could argue that the private sector takes its cues from the government. On the other hand, if a government is weak enough, it will kowtow to the pressure and demands of corporations. It isn't difficult to find examples of either. We need look no further than Mexico to see what can happen when powerful companies (in this case an Oligarchy) run roughshod over the government. Now, with drug cartels, it is even worse.
But what if government and corporate America are the same thing? Can a case be made for such a cabal? We may be assuming that one entity maintains a higher level of ethics that the other. Some of us think big business is more moral, and some of us think government is more moral. But what if neither can be considered moral? What if our situation is on a par with the Book of Mormon, where the Gadianton robbers become more powerful than the government, and have infiltrated the government at all levels? What if criminals sit in the "judgment seat," and we have essentially become them? And how do we know?
On the other hand, is it possible, in any kind of practical way, to assign concepts of morality to non-corporeal, non-sentient entities, which exist only in a legal sense? Can a government be moral or immoral? Can a corporation? Or can such considerations only be assigned to human beings, who work in and for these organizations? Is there a tipping point at which too many amoral or immoral people render the organizations behavior immoral?
Could a case be made for sufficient corruption, greed, and ineptitude on the part of both systems? For example, the entire country is divided as to where to place the blame for the BP oil spill. Is it a corporate or government responsibility? How would each of us answer this question: would the oil spill be more likely to not have happened if BP were more ethical, or if the government were bigger--exercised greater control and oversight?
Can presumed authority overcome dedicated greed?
Can corporate ethics overcome governmental corruption? I repeat my question from an earlier IGM; why did BP have no reliable and effective contingency plan in place for such an event? And, conversely, why did the government not require such a plan and/or technology? And if government did require it, why did they not know it was not in place and functioning?
We could chose from far too many examples besides the oil spill, but why bother?
How do our mind-sets gravitate to one set of assumptions or another? What is the process?
And if everything happens more or less in a causative vacuum, how would we ever arrive at any kind of explanation? Of course, perhaps it doesn't work that way. Maybe the world isn't ruled by coincidence and randomness. Maybe there is no such thing as a coincidence. But if that is true, how do we trace the inevitable pattern of necessary events which lead to all other events? Is all that really just a matter of opinion?
It might be interesting to take some kind of poll, find out where we agree and disagree on specific issues, and basic principles. And remember, issues and principles are not the same thing. Issues have no principles; but principles define and control issues. The oil spill is a perfect example. Was the explosion and resultant spill the result of a failure of issues or of misapplied principles? Does that even make sense?
And we need to remember that it appears as if the application of principles to specific issues can be wildly divergent, even when we adhere to the same basic principles. For example, we all believe in the necessity of laws, and protecting the public interest, and the necessity of incarceration for people who violate said laws and interests. But how we deal with the specific issues involved is often varied. Some of us accept the concept of the death penalty, some do not. Some insist on rehabilitation, and others insist that rehabilitation is ineffective and largely useless. Look at how we argue over such fundamental things like the Bill of Rights. There is no disagreement on their importance and desirability, but get more than three people together and how we interpret those Rights, and apply them, is all over the map. Why is that?
To quote Steve Stills, “there’s something happening here . . .” But do any of us agree as to what is happening, and why it’s happening?
And for those of you who have no idea what a Gadianton Robber is, I guess you’re just going to have to read the Book of Mormon. How sly is that?
--
You don't use science to show that you're right; you use science to become right.
XKCD
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
IGM A Positive Experience
Inter-Galactic Memo
To: All Personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: A Positive Experience
6-1-10
This month Nita and I will be celebrating our 40th wedding anniversary. (No applause, please. But feel free to send money.) As you can imagine, I have been wracking my brain to think of an idea worthy of her, and the big 4-0. Most of my anniversary attempts have been on the order of,
“happy anniversary, honey, how about dinner and a movie?” Or even more likely, "hey, wasn't it our anniversary last month?"
Although once, a few years ago, I surprised her with a weekend trip to Zion National Park, and that was a huge success. Except it was a valentine’s present, and we went to the Park in Feb. But it was still awesome—we had the place pretty much to ourselves.
So I have to at least top that, right?
Then it hit me. I knew the perfect gift. Let me now include a little background;
Years ago, Nita and I started to go to a bluegrass festival held every fall in Logandale, NV. A good friend of ours (he was a Bishop at the time) was in a bluegrass band, and they were very good, and we loved going to hear them play. So one day he invited us to come to the festival, and we did, and listened to good music for eight hours a day for two days. We were hooked. By the way, the band is called “The Warburton’s”, and several years ago they took the top prize at the very prestigious Wolftrap International Bluegrass something-or-other. They are two brothers, a sister, and a good friend. (I just looked, and couldn’t find them on Youtube, so I’ll have to email Kelly and yell at him.) You’ve gotta hear “Lehi Roller Mills,” a song Marty, the leader, wrote about summer employment in a misspent youth.
Anyway, ever since, Nita has been in love with the mandolin, and has fantasized about playing one. As far back as the early 70’s, she loved the sound of Joni Mitchell’s lap dulcimer, and I was always going to make one for her (from a kit), but never have.
So this morning I bought her a mandolin. I have been looking online all week, searching the internet, emailing people, trying to get some ideas as to what brand to buy, how much to spend, etc. Well, I found a place called the Mandolin Store, and it is in, of all places—are you sitting down?—The Wickenburg TRIANGLE. That’s right, the tiny little store is in the city of Wickenburg, AZ.
But that’s not why I called you all together this morning. I did that, so I could tell you about the wonderful experience I had dealing with Dennis, at the Mandolin Store. It was all via email, other than this morning, when he called to get a credit card number. (I used yours, Leah) I told him what I was looking for, and that I had this one in mind, on his website, and that I knew nothing about mandolins—mando’s to the initiated. He was incredibly helpful, and patient, and knowledgeable.
When I am communicating via the internet, I always write to everyone as if we are long-lost friends; very informal, very personal, and chatty. (No! Really?) Most people no doubt think I’m from Mars when I do that (close, but no cigar), and ignore it. Dennis, picked it right up and gave it back. I told him all about my heart attack and surgery, and how our 40th was coming up and my wife has always wanted a mandolin. He told me happy anniversary, and all about having to move a bunch of furniture over the long weekend, and how he wouldn’t be able to get to the mandolin until today. It was fun; it felt just like it should have. He told me he had one of the model I was looking at, and that for my budget, it was far and away the best pick. (What an eye, huh?) But then he told me he had 4 new ones coming in, and he’d be happy to wait a few days, so he could sample them all and choose the best one for me. He assured me he would have the mandolin “set up” for beginners, and pick out a book and CD he thought would be appropriate for a 60-year old madwoman.
From beginning to end, it was a positive, life-affirming, loads of fun experience. The kind we see all too rarely.
So . . . if you do a Google search for The Mandolin Store, Dennis should come up. If you click on the site, you will see a photo of the tiny little building with the Arizona desert in the background. Dennis sells other things too, like guitars and banjos, and does repairs. Check him out, say hello, and if you’re ever in the market for an acoustic instrument, give him a chance to win you over.
And if you’re ever passing through Wickenburg, stop in and say hello—I know I will. But be careful . . . because the place might have vanished into the arcane and mysterious depths of the dreaded, Wickenburg Triangle!
Now don’t tell Nita about any of this! She doesn’t get the mando until June 13th. Happy anniversary, baby.
To: All Personnel
Fr: W. Leavitt
Re: A Positive Experience
6-1-10
This month Nita and I will be celebrating our 40th wedding anniversary. (No applause, please. But feel free to send money.) As you can imagine, I have been wracking my brain to think of an idea worthy of her, and the big 4-0. Most of my anniversary attempts have been on the order of,
“happy anniversary, honey, how about dinner and a movie?” Or even more likely, "hey, wasn't it our anniversary last month?"
Although once, a few years ago, I surprised her with a weekend trip to Zion National Park, and that was a huge success. Except it was a valentine’s present, and we went to the Park in Feb. But it was still awesome—we had the place pretty much to ourselves.
So I have to at least top that, right?
Then it hit me. I knew the perfect gift. Let me now include a little background;
Years ago, Nita and I started to go to a bluegrass festival held every fall in Logandale, NV. A good friend of ours (he was a Bishop at the time) was in a bluegrass band, and they were very good, and we loved going to hear them play. So one day he invited us to come to the festival, and we did, and listened to good music for eight hours a day for two days. We were hooked. By the way, the band is called “The Warburton’s”, and several years ago they took the top prize at the very prestigious Wolftrap International Bluegrass something-or-other. They are two brothers, a sister, and a good friend. (I just looked, and couldn’t find them on Youtube, so I’ll have to email Kelly and yell at him.) You’ve gotta hear “Lehi Roller Mills,” a song Marty, the leader, wrote about summer employment in a misspent youth.
Anyway, ever since, Nita has been in love with the mandolin, and has fantasized about playing one. As far back as the early 70’s, she loved the sound of Joni Mitchell’s lap dulcimer, and I was always going to make one for her (from a kit), but never have.
So this morning I bought her a mandolin. I have been looking online all week, searching the internet, emailing people, trying to get some ideas as to what brand to buy, how much to spend, etc. Well, I found a place called the Mandolin Store, and it is in, of all places—are you sitting down?—The Wickenburg TRIANGLE. That’s right, the tiny little store is in the city of Wickenburg, AZ.
But that’s not why I called you all together this morning. I did that, so I could tell you about the wonderful experience I had dealing with Dennis, at the Mandolin Store. It was all via email, other than this morning, when he called to get a credit card number. (I used yours, Leah) I told him what I was looking for, and that I had this one in mind, on his website, and that I knew nothing about mandolins—mando’s to the initiated. He was incredibly helpful, and patient, and knowledgeable.
When I am communicating via the internet, I always write to everyone as if we are long-lost friends; very informal, very personal, and chatty. (No! Really?) Most people no doubt think I’m from Mars when I do that (close, but no cigar), and ignore it. Dennis, picked it right up and gave it back. I told him all about my heart attack and surgery, and how our 40th was coming up and my wife has always wanted a mandolin. He told me happy anniversary, and all about having to move a bunch of furniture over the long weekend, and how he wouldn’t be able to get to the mandolin until today. It was fun; it felt just like it should have. He told me he had one of the model I was looking at, and that for my budget, it was far and away the best pick. (What an eye, huh?) But then he told me he had 4 new ones coming in, and he’d be happy to wait a few days, so he could sample them all and choose the best one for me. He assured me he would have the mandolin “set up” for beginners, and pick out a book and CD he thought would be appropriate for a 60-year old madwoman.
From beginning to end, it was a positive, life-affirming, loads of fun experience. The kind we see all too rarely.
So . . . if you do a Google search for The Mandolin Store, Dennis should come up. If you click on the site, you will see a photo of the tiny little building with the Arizona desert in the background. Dennis sells other things too, like guitars and banjos, and does repairs. Check him out, say hello, and if you’re ever in the market for an acoustic instrument, give him a chance to win you over.
And if you’re ever passing through Wickenburg, stop in and say hello—I know I will. But be careful . . . because the place might have vanished into the arcane and mysterious depths of the dreaded, Wickenburg Triangle!
Now don’t tell Nita about any of this! She doesn’t get the mando until June 13th. Happy anniversary, baby.
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