Ned Rorem is a very bad man

On November 30th in 1965 "Rolling Stones Day" was declared in Colorado. Take that Ned Rorem! I don't understand how someone can make a living writing about things that they don't like. I guess it says more about society than it does about Ned Rorem. We search for the faults in the world and take pleasure when other people agree with our findings. I'm not saying the Rolling Stones were the musical genius's that having a day named after them might suggest but they are a source of postivity. They make millions of people. I hearby declared November 30 national, "Ignore Ned Rorem" day.

Sick sad world

One hundred and fifty people were killed in Mumbai in the last couple of days. Terrorists seized bunch of hotels and started killing hostages. Now all the terrorists are dead. The Indian special forces killed them all. I wonder why terrorists think that killing innocent people is what their God wants. They never made any demands or threats really they just pointlessly killed. In America we're all terrified because of this financial crisis, but it will inevitably get better in time. I dont know if self justififed, senseless killing of innocent people will ever go away. I fear for the lives of my children.

Presidential Turkey Pardon

I guess this is the most productive thing Bush can do anymore. Pardoning a turkey when you are a turkey must feel like your springing your best friend out of jail.

Thanksgiving Pie Poem

This morning is thanksgiving. Michelle Obama is not going to cook thanksgiving dinner. Neither is Barack. Neither am I. Times is tough. Maybe there will be pie. There's always pie.

If only pie would fall from the sky
Maybe I would not feel the urge to cry
These days ahead will be filled with dread

The economy fails and you feel dead
O if it were only a world filled with pie
O pie o pie why wont you fall from the sky

Sarah Palin is a big dumb idiot

KC- You’ve cited Alaskas proximity to Russia as part of your foreign policy experience. What did you mean by that?

SP- That Alaska has a very narrow maritime border, between a foreign country, Russia, and on our other side the land ahhh boundaray that we have ahh with Canada, I I I it’s funny that a comment like that was ah kinda made to uhuhuh carec uh uh I dunno ya know reporters.

KC- Mocked?

SP- ya mocked I guess that’s the word mocked ya, ummm eh

KC- Well, explain to me why that enhances your foreign policy credentials?

SP- Well it certainly does because our, ooour next door neighbors our foreign countries they’re, in, the, state, that, I, am, the, executive, of and they’re in Russia.

KC- Have you ever been involved with any negotiations for example with the Russians?

SP- We have trade missions, back and forth we we do. Its very important when when you consider even national security issues with Russia as Putin ah wheres his head ah and comes into the air space of the United States of America, where wh do they go? It’s Alaska its just right over the border it is, from Alaska that we send those out to make sure that an eye is being kept on this, very, powerful, nation Russia because they are right there they are right next to ummm to our state.

Rant on the state of things

Waiting for your life to feel complete and fulfilling is quite possibly the worst thing to wait for. It leaves you with a metaphysical hole whose gravity becomes increasingly stronger as time goes on. The only way to achieve fulfillment and happiness is to work towards it and hope for some sort of staying power. In the long run it ends up being the work that distracts you from your metaphysical hole. There comes a point however when you realize that your days are filled with more meaningless tasks and thankless obligations that there’s not enough time for doing things that actually make you happy. Of course the meaningless tasks and thankless obligations can distract you from your hole just the same but when you can take your brain out of the box you put it in before the shit begins for a breather its hard to feel like your moving forward. Creating something from nothing is really all we as inspired people who strive towards artistic self-validation. We all want to accomplish great things in our life yet we zero in on small personality faults and raise our noses to people who were once our friends. “Something about you must have changed cause you used to be a somewhat decent human being,” we think. Really we’re all just trying to be happy people. We’re all just trying to find some sun on perpetually rainy days. Yet some people still insist on inserting a bark-clad stick up their ass every morning before they step out the door. Rolling their eyes and scoffing when people think out loud for self-verification or when someone can’t remember how many sharps are in G# Minor.
Assigning a rant is a very hit or miss assignment. The flow of sentences depends directly on the mood from second to second of the ranter. For a ranter who is quite tired and quite sick of some uptight, unfriendly and thoroughly unpleasant assholes. But now that said ranter has successfully ranted the aforementioned rant, he no longer cares. He steps back from his computer screen and realizes that these people probably have larger holes than most but will probably never know it. Nor will they ever know true emotion, happiness, selflessness or true love. As the ranters fingers slow and he feels unsure about the negativity he has just projected, he thinks about what can be done to curb these blights on the canvas of the human race. He then logically deduces that because his faith in the human race is strong these people must not be people at all. Yes! They must be psychic aliens that intend on exterminating the human race disgusting them all death with their pompousness.

O Joe, O Joe, Where did your sight go?

Joe was blind. Most people would consider his condition to be of the worst kind, for there was a time in Joe’s life when he could see. He used to have the capacity, much like most healthy young men, to see with near perfect vision all the colors of fall, the sun shimmering on the ocean during summer or the last wisps of daylight on a midwinter day. Throughout the duration of his days of sight Joe never appreciated these things. He passed the days idly, much like most healthy young boys, never really stopping to appreciate the world around him until one day it was all gone and the only world that Joe knew was what he could created from his remaining four senses. The unfortunate young man woke up one morning to a blurry sight. That is, his sight was very blurry. By the end of the day it was darkness, pure unremitting and indefatigable darkness. Joe’s parents cried and cried; outraged that such a thing could happen to their perfect, healthy young boy. The fourth, fifth and sixth opinions from the fourth, fifth and sixth doctor that Joe was dragged to, all agreed that Joe was blind and that the reason was far beyond the comprehension of the mortal man. For Joe however just sat. For nearly a week Joe sat in silence just listening to everything around him. The truth was that, after the initial shock of going blind Joe wasn’t all that upset about not being able to see. He realized that he had never really appreciated his sight because there wasn’t really anything particularly beautiful for him to look at in the dull, gray existence that was his life.
While Joe’s parents never could quite cope with the loss of sight that befell their son, Joe considered it the best thing that ever happened to him. As the weeks passed and Joe finally began to digress from the constant sitting position he began to notice things that he had never noticed before. Walking down the stairs from his room, Joe could hear the tiny creak of each stair and as a result see with unfettered definition, the beauty of the old oak panels that he had bound up and down a thousand times before. As he entered the kitchen he could scarcely distinguish the difference between the art of grilled cheese making and beautiful sound of the symphonies that his dad used to play when he was a child. This incredible realization inspired eleven-year-old Joe and in two years he had mastered the piano and had begun working on his first symphony.
While Joe could no longer see as you or I can, he could see the universe of sound that had always been around him. Finally nothing seemed gray to Joe, the world buzzed with color, colors that Joe could now only feel. But this was not to last. At age fourteen, having completed and published three symphonies Joe’s sight returned to him. While he could still hear just as well, the world returned to gray for Joe. The only thing that was left was the sweet taste of grilled cheese.

Words as art

The Greatest Jazz Pianist since Dinasaurs Roamed the Earth

Black Berry Double Time

The end of this video is unbelievable