Out standing in a field!

I posted a couple of new songs over here. It's jimmy m. the hermit and the all hermit all stars! I'm thinking of making a disc called, "all hermits are not alike."

It will be a must for all those aspiring hermits out there. We must stick together. No wait, we can't stand to be in the same room with any one else.

The Cheese stands alone!

P.S. "E.A. Poe" is dedicated to God and his great re-working of The Raven!

Trust Yourself, Then Again...

The Black Swan has me by the lapels and keeps throttling me.

Not sure if this is "provable" (although some studies from evolutionary psychologists are cited) but it certainly rings true...

"True, our knowledge does grow, but it is threatened by great increases in confidence, which make our increase in knowledge at the same time an increase in confusion, ignorance, and conceit." - Nassim Taleb

Other gems.

Be wary of the "experts" in bespoke suits.

And anyone who predicts the future.

We're really good at "explaining" what happened after it's happened. Not so good at seeing what is coming round the bend.

Our brains might be wired to actually help us deceive ourselves from our own incompetence.

Bad Brain!

More Black Swan...

OK.

So there's the known unknown.

And the unknown unknown.

And there's the place (as per Nick Tosches) Where Dead Voices Gather...

And 99.00% of the species that have walked the planet are extinct.

And we are the supremely confident Lucky Duckies still kicking around who think we have it knocked.

And we are all quite skilled at blinding ourselves and each other.

Situation Precarious!

Tragedy and Hilarity

I just dipped my toe in Nassim Taleb's "The Black Swan." What an eye-opening read.

It confirms my sneaking suspicion that what we don't know is probably more important than what we do know. And what we do know is more limited and flawed than we think.

We don't know what we don't know, and foolish beings that we are, we think we know more than we really do.

And we think that what we don't know isn't really all that important.

Which leads us to all kinds of tragedy and hilarity.

It's all about the hair, baby!

Our Governor here in Illinois, let's just call him Blago, is a very, very funny guy!

Gandhi - non-violence. MLK - civil rights. Mandela - grace and peace. Blago - HAIR BALL!

I must admit that I voted for the guy. My only excuse, he was running against a Republican.

We do have a tradition here in Illinois. First the Governor's office - then jail. It's quite the career path.

"You can't get lost if you don't know where you're going." - J. Jarmusch

I watched (again) Jim Jarmusch's great movie "Down By Law" last night. Made in 1986. In glorious black and white. It features two musicians - John Lurie and Tom Waits. Plus that wacky Italian, Roberto Begnini. They make a great trio.

Cinematography is by the incomparable Robby Muller. Jarmusch may be the greatest living American movie maker today. Or at least my favorite. He is the man responsible, for "Broken Flowers," "Dead Man," "Ghost Dog," "Mystery Train," "Night on Earth" "Coffee and Cigarettes" and "Strangers in Paradise." All worth seeing multiple times, and savoring.

"Down by Law," is beautiful, funky, elegaic. It has a real old-timey feel. Some of the best moments are when the camera lingers, or slowly pans (always right to left), with some stirring or haunting music in the background. The best moments are the ones you can't put in a box.

And then Tom Waits. What can you say? What a strange hipster cat. So cool. His discography is overwhelming. A true master. Under-appreciated.

Why do they call it a Johnson?

Antony and the Johnsons have a new album out. I haven't heard it yet, but I can't wait to score a copy. I do believe Antony Hegarty is an extraordinary singer and unique soul.

"I am a Bird Now" which came out a couple years ago now, is one of the great records. Beautiful, haunting, heart-breaking.

Antony is reportedly "transgendered" a self-described "bearded lady," or a "female Rip Van Winkle."

Whatever. His voice is totally amazing, a supremely expressive instrument.

Check out Antony and the Johnsons on Lettermen from a few years ago.

Anarchists Knocking on the Parliament's Door!

Are we all Icelanders now, and just don't know it yet?

"45% of Icelanders are bankrupt. 60% of Icelandic business is bankrupt."

What does this mean for my favorite Icelandic band Sigur Ros? And what of that little sparkling imp Bjork?

Then there's this:

It is the first time in Icelandic history that a young anarchist can well expect to meet his grandmother in the crowd demonstrating against the government and drumming with her kitchen knife on pots and pans. The government is surely hanging by a thin thread and might fall at any moment.

The Icelandic public fear that their country has virtually been stolen by the globetrotting business elite that spent more time rubbing shoulders with international high society than giving back to the society that enabled them to enjoy this privileged lifestyle. Now ordinary Icelanders are determined to take their country back.

Those Gods Must be Freaking Crazy!

"We're just puppets to the gods. The gods don't want us to be too ambitious, too aggressive. The gods just want us to be subservient to nature. Leave the planet the way we got it." - Nassim Taleb

Our Lives

When something really good happens it is easy to get carried away. Suddenly everything looks brighter. And I do believe everything looks brighter today.

Still, there's always something in me that kind of tugs against the tide. I mean, there's still darkness in the world. And lots of bad shit happens every day too.

I believe we can handle the good stuff and the bad stuff too. I think that makes me an optimist. Knowing that good and bad shit is part of our portfolio I guess makes me a realist.

BIFURCATED.

That is our lives.

The Day the Torture Stopped

So many great moments yesterday. The images dancing out of my TV Eye. The teeming masses converging on Washington D.C. You have to think even the most cynical power brokers had to be impressed.

The big media megaphone will relentlessly pound any event into the ground. And yes, this megaphone was used to beat the images to smithereens.

Still it was all so transcendent. Barack and Michelle with the million-watt smiles. People from all walks of life declaring the day for themselves.

And George W. Bush getting on a helicopter to Texas. The man will not be missed.

The day the torture stopped.

It is a Wonderful Life

Many of us visualized this day. And improbably, unbelievably, I mean, holy shit, it is here. Mr. Obama Goes to Washington.

I read last night that Cheney will be attending the Inauguration in a wheelchair. I do believe Mr. Cheney is chanelling Lionel Barrymore in "It's a Wonderful Life." What a creepy, decrepit soul.

And Barack is our multi-cultural Jimmy Stewart. All eyes will be on that man. I can't imagine what that kind of all-consuming focus and intention must feel like. Still, Barack seems like he was born for this moment.

All hell is breaking loose in the world. You couldn't find a better time for such a refreshing, healing personality. Strangely, it is not just what he does, but who he is, and maybe we all expect too much, but too much is what we need.

And I'm sure Barack Obama can handle it. I'm thinking he's got his own Zuzu's petals hidden somewhere in a secret pocket.

UPDATE: Hey maybe this is a little sappy, but sometimes sappy is just right. Art Garfunkel's finest moment works just fine for me today.

When youre down and out,
When you're on the street,
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you.

Give that Man an Apple!

"I can calculate the movements of the heavenly bodies, but I cannot calculate the madness of men." - Sir Issac Newton

New Tricks

I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks. Or maybe the old dog has to do it himself. My latest obsession is exploring new ways to play my guitar. I'm lucky to have friend who is teaching me some jazz tunes. My first session was quite humbling. It was kind of like going from English to Spanish. Suddenly the fret-board of my guitar seemed like a completely foreign land.

There's something so cool about going back to first principles. It opens new doors. My challenge is not to get bored, frustrated, impatient. Oh yeah, that's exactly what I have to do!

I'm also working on my slide guitar technique. Never really played that way before, but suddenly I can't get enough. I was lately inspired watching Ronnie Wood playing slide alongside Keith Richards. I love those two old English cats.

Anyway, there are so many great slide players: Robert Johnson, Duane Allman, Derek Trucks, George Harrison, Ronnie Wood, Muddy Waters, JB. Hutto, Johnny Winter, Mick Taylor, John Lee Hooker.

And there's this guy, Ry Cooder. He is some kind of American Treasure. Check him out on Woody Guthrie's "Vigilante Man."

Dig Lazarus Dig - Nevermore!

I was thinking about Edgar Allen Poe yesterday. And I was thinking about Nick Cave yesterday. And I was thinking if Edgar Allen Poe were alive today he'd be fronting a band like the Bad Seeds.

No, let me put this another way. If Edgar Allen Poe were alive today, he'd be an Australian named Nick Cave and he would be fronting a band called the Bad Seeds.

This morning while I was making coffee (Mexican Zaragosa) I heard that Edgar Allen Poe's 200th birthday is coming up. And I heard John Astin (Gomez from the Addams Family) reciting some Edgar Allen Poe on the radio. Kind of a weird coincidence.

As far as I'm concerned, he might as well have been reciting some Nick Cave.

Dig Lazarus Dig...

My Theme Song

I know I've posted Spoon doing "The Underdog" in the past. Here's a live on Letterman version. I do find this an absolutely sublime song, full horn section and all.

"But you won't hear from the messenger,
don't wanna know bout something that you don't understand,
You got no fear of the underdog,
that's why you will not survive! (Hey!)"

I finally purchased the album. I was reluctant, thinking the rest of it couldn't be as good as this song. I still think this is the standout song on the album, but really the whole thing is quite good.

Note: This is a special shout out to those rats on that sinking ship I used to know.

Thermal Underwear Too!

Mocha Java coursing through my veins.

I wonder if that's enough to keep warm today.

Sub-zero temps!

What a life.

Running...

I'm a long-distance runner. I've been running since the 80's. Logged a lot of miles. I've had my spills, injuries, and time off. I've almost been hit by cars, bitten by dogs, accosted by mad men.

I've run in mountain terrain, on the beach, in the jungle, the desert, on a lone highway with birds of prey circling overhead.

There is some kind of undeniable kick to running. Probably something to do with adrenaline and endorphins. There is a certain madness to doing one thing so consistently.

I've often wondered if I'm running towards something, or away from something. Or maybe both.

Maybe I'm running just because I can.

Yesterday I trekked across the frozen tundra on the lakefront. It was a pretty lonely trek. Me and the lake, the snow, the ice, the brilliant blue sky looming above. It felt like going to church. A hard church made of ice and cold.

My prayers were the footprints I left in the snow behind me. I was alone, but I didn't feel alone.

I wonder if this is true:

You must hate yourself to hate another

You must love yourself to love another

Black and White

Death is
a black dog
a white horse
a cold friend.