Recreating (and advancing) pk’s censored domains: Macroinformation.org &
Knatz.com / Personal / Chat / Favorites / Class / Aural /
@ K. 2004 04 28
Just a fast start for now, much better work coming:
When I was a kid I came to believe that I loved music. People said I loved music. People said I loved jazz music. I said I loved jazz music. I said I loved music.
Before long I realized that I had to get at least slightly specific: “I love Bach.” “I love Dixieland.”
After a while it modified, became complex: “I love Bach.” “I love Kid Ory. I love Benny Goodman. I hate popular music.”
The older I got the more things had to be excepted: “I love modern jazz. I love Dave Brubeck. I hate Guy Lombardo. I hate popular music.”
The older I got the more names and styles had to be mentioned in my I-love statements (so many long touted at K. so I won’t repeat here), but almost everything else had to be added to the hate-exceptions. Finally, I had to reverse my phrasing of everything: “I hate music. It’s Bach I adore. And Miles. And the blues.
And Beethoven, Vivaldi, Beethoven, Bartok, Penderecski.”
These days though I make few generalizations: at least with regard to music. I play Bach. I play this and that composition by this and that composer: Jobim, Wayne Shorter, Cole Porter, Horace Silver … I put this Miles Davis CD in the player, that Wagner suite … And I altogether avoid hearing “music” or any other public noise: absolutely no radio, very little TV.
More later, but meantime notice: here’s my point in starting this: there are principles illustrated here. They relate to Platonic cosmology versus other cosmologies. They relate to nominalism’s combat with Scholastic Realism. Screw the abstractions. I don’t love man; I love Bucky Fuller, I love Catherine; I hate George Bush. (Alas, this was written just a few months before Catherine’s death: age 96!)
That was 2004. But I was arrested in 2006, tortured into a “confession. My dear patron died in 2004. By 2008 I really needed to meet some women, ordinary women all that were likely available. I’d stopped dancing in the mid-’50s, totally embarrassed by how my favorite music was repressed and punished by the culture (I was also embarrassed by how obscene my gyrations had become.) Anyway, now, half a dozen years since being dumped back home by the fed, broke if not broken, I’m been immersed in pop music three evenings a week. I dance to mostly dreck. And, no longer refrigerated behind bars, I love it! Even the pop crap, even the country music.
Ah, I gotta say, some of the musicians are pretty good, Buddy Canova plays some of the best reeds I’ve ever heard. He’s got a sound on the tenor, on the clarinet, flute, that would have gone well in any of the great bands, from Goodman to Billy May. And, bless him, he plays a lot of swing.