06.22.08
Posted in Reviews, Society at 11:03 am by JC
Last night Scott and I went to see Kat and Steve perform Verdi’s Requiem with Conspirare. My god it was good.
I’m not sure what it is about a good Requiem mass that sends me, but when they sang Dies Irae and the drum pounded, I was in a transport. And then the soloists would come in and I’d try translating the Latin in the program until the orchestra and choir took over again. Unless it was the bass. His voice was seriously yummy. Everybody was totally gawking over the soprano, and I feel horrible (since obviously I’m in the minority here), but she did very little for me (unless she was singing higher than the choir, at which point her soaring vocals added a haunting descant). She was one of those gut-buster singers who strikes that constipated Brunhilda pose the entire time and warbles vibrato until I’m not sure what note she’s on. Sometimes well trained people can’t do passionate right to my ears; the combination of the technical precision required in operatic vocals combined with the raw chaos of emotion sings like a wounded hippo. Maybe I just don’t watch enough of the “good” stuff, but given a choice, I’ll take Tom Waits’ passionate crackle over almost anybody. Hmm… Tom Waits does a requiem… now THAT has some serious merit…. But anyway, I could’ve listened to the choir and the orchestra sing on into the night, and that’s saying something as I have a wretched time sitting still in audience seating.
Giuseppe Verdi (or Joe Green, as Steve the choir director calls him) created a Requiem of wailing power and drama, which, according to Kat, may be the only Requiem to date to end on “Libera me” instead of the usual “Requiem Aeternum”. Creepy cool that he eschews peaceful rest in favor of “please….” at the end. I’m pretty sure that’s what I’ll be saying on “dies illa solvet saeclum in savilla”, so maybe that makes this a good rip for me.
Craig Hella Johnson, the director of Conspirare, is an amazing talent and has done an incredible job with an enormous and powerful choir and orchestra, and I’m thrilled that I got to see it.
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06.19.08
Posted in Politics, Society at 10:02 am by JC
1450 A.D.
This new invention of Gutenberg’s will be the end of civilization as we know it. I realize that many champion his invention as “progress”, but just wait, this metallic hulk signifies the end of moral society. I ask you to think about the far reaching implications of such a device.
Now that books are so easy and cheap to print, everyone will be able to afford books. Can you imagine the common, uneducated man reading religious texts on his own, attempting to interpret for himself the deeper meanings and moral lessons contained therein? We have educated moral leaders for a reason. Religion and morality are complicated topics that easily confuse the average person with their many paths and interpretations. Why make life, which is already hard, even more difficult? People need religion taught to them so that they can’t come to their own erroneous conclusions and damage the rest of us with their false ideas about God and His will for them on earth.
In addition, printing has provided more people with the ability to spread their ideas to the public. Scientists have already used print as a ready method of propagating their pernicious treatises on the nature of the universe outside the will of God. Now more people have access to their dangerous ideas, and many people are falling for their lies. Before print, only highly educated and holy men, men tested by both religious and political structures, men whose words were about the message and not about common popularity, could see their words in a book. Books were reliable because their sources were reliable. Now anyone with enough change to pay the printer can have his ideas disseminated. Where can an honest person go for the truth in a world of so many competing ideas?
I have also heard that printing is available in the common vernacular. No longer will Latin be the prevailing language of literature; no, now every vulgar man will have access to this onslaught of trash in his doggerel tongue. And do you know what that will lead to? A higher literacy rate. And why is this bad? Because a little learning, as we all know, is a dangerous thing. Someone who is not willing to dedicate the proper time to study should not be given small pieces of the truth to mismanage as he chooses without access to the bigger picture. No, education is a process that requires time and effort to be meaningful. With only bits and pieces of clap-trap and potentially inaccurate information, we create a new class of people who only think they know what they are talking about. And then with their newfound “knowledge” they’ll believe they have the right to help make decisions about law and society that affect all of us. I think we can all understand the danger in that.
I am certain that Gutenberg meant well when he created his invention, but clearly we can see that it will only lead to moral depravity, ignorance, and anarchy. This type of progress must be stopped for the good of society, particularly for the good of our children who will grow up in a more confusing and muddled world due to the chaos in the wake of printing. I propose that we retire the printing press, and all inventions like it, to the annals of failed history and turn away from so called “progress” before it is too late.
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06.16.08
Posted in Personal, Reviews at 1:21 pm by JC
When I think of New Mexico, traditionally I thought of
- Carlsbad Caverns insane population of bats and the resulting guano
- falling down the mountain at Santa Fe
- endless stretches of flat highway between the endless stretches of flat west Texas highway and the endless stretches of flat Arizona highway.
Since I got married, I got a new association with New Mexico: Grandma Bertha of Albuquerque. I love Grandma Bertha; she’s spunky, cantankerous, opinionated, and generally everything a New Mexico grandma should be, even if she is originally from Long Island. This was only my second trip out to see GB (yes, we’re absolutely horrible grandchildren, but I’ll not attempt airing the whys of that laundry on a public forum – you know how THAT can go), and I had a wonderful time. We played dominoes, ate retirement food, and all took a nap together on various pieces of furniture in her living room (we’d left for the airport at 5:00 that morning; that’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it).
But GB needs her space, and so we also had a mini-vacation in the mix. Now, last time I went to Albuquerque, I did what everybody else who goes to Albuquerque does when they’re not about their business. I went to Santa Fe. And Santa Fe is cool. But this time, we decided to stay and see if this town had anything to it worth visiting. Turns out, Albuquerque is actually pretty dern cool. So, here’s my new New Mexico list, and it’s all things I love about Albuquerque:
- Sandia Mountain – the outline of this gorgeous mountain dominates the northern skyline; you can see it from anywhere, and it’s a wrinkly bear. I said “Wow” every time we turned a corner and it came into view.
- Unknown Restaurant on Plaza San Luis (in Old Town) that Actually Serves Vegetables – It’s right by the tourist center where you sign up for ghost tours. Order the vegetables on fry bread with the red chile sauce (green if you have a fire-proof mouth). The proprietor is a hoot, and the food is absolutely delicious. And did I mention that they have vegetables? You’ll appreciate that after checking out the typical Old Town menu.
- Chapel of Our Lady of Guadelupe (again in Old Town) – a tiny little chapel where people bring candles and leave their prayers to the virgin handwritten on notebook paper.
- St. Clair Bistro – a wine bar just north of Old Town (they claim in OT, but that’s a liberal definition of “in”). They serve all kinds of New Mexico wine, including their own, along with a full menu. The bartenders were very cool and gave us advice about what to do around the city, including the faboo restaurant below. Six tastings for $6 of passable to quite good wine was more than reasonable, and then our bartender let us try two of the most hideous wines I’ve ever encountered for no charge. One was a chocolate port that tasted like Dimetapp, but the other was a real gem. Neon green in color and a taste that can only be described as “really really really funny”, it was green chile wine. Now, I see that some people make their own, and as long as you’re not getting out the green #7, fine – chile up that wine. This, however, was inexcusable crap – bad wine made worse with food coloring and rejected peppers – and I heartily appreciate our bartender for sharing.
- El Pinto Restaurant – No where near Old Town. Pinto was a beautiful location that may just have the finest ribs I’ve ever tasted. Wonderful nachos that would feed a small army started us off, and a complimentary basket of sopapillas ended the meal. Go there.
What I didn’t do that I need to go back to Albaquerque for:
- Reservation madness. With my broken toe, wandering the wilderness in flip-flops didn’t seem like the greatest idea, but I REALLY wanted to.
- Hot Air Ballooning. Enough said.
- Riding the tram up Sandia Peak – the longest tram line in the worlds, or so they claim
So, go to New Mexico, chicos, and don’t skip Albuquerque for an extra couple days in Santa Fe. Anybody else got any New Mexico recommendations for next time we make the trip?
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06.11.08
Posted in Personal at 1:28 pm by JC
If you read my About Me, you’ll see that I’m a horrible gardener. Doesn’t mean I don’t try, but I readily admit that if it wasn’t for Scott, everything in our little plot of herbs would shrivel and die. An example of my gardening prowess:
About a week ago, I went outside to get mint for my coffee and found about 20 blue and yellow striped
caterpillars gnawing away at the dill and the fennel. I immediately panic, decide that they’re poisonous maneaters, and run to Scott for help. He picks each off with a pair of tongs and kills them, while I try not to cry. Sure, they were going to attack me with their deadly mandibles (and certainly decimate the dill which I’m still not sure is going to recover), but I felt responsible for their untimely demise. But bugs must die in a garden, right? I would be stoic.
I did research. Bad idea. They were black swallowtail butterflies and only poisonous if you eat them, i.e. not dangerous to me. Apparently some people plant extra dill and fennel in order to attract these beauties. Then I felt extra guilty. I explain this to Scott in a remorseful email. He reminds me that they were massacring the dill and making headway against the fennel. I feel somewhat mollified.
The next day, there were three more fennel assassins. Scott and I argue. I win out with the argument, “It isn’t like we’re eating the fennel. Might as well let someone enjoy it.” And so the green and blue garden ninjas breathed another day.
Caterpillars breathe, right?
Today I went to check out the uninvited neighbors and see how they were doing. One was absolutely enormous, like the size of my little finger. I watered the plants, and apparently this irritated him, so he raised his little black head and neon orange antennae pop out. Clearly he had an announcement of epic proportions, so I knelt down for better communication and he bobbed and weaved while grinding his mandibles at me, then wagged his long body over the leaf-barren branch that he’d eaten his way across.
I understood. The food had run out on his stem, and this corpulent prince of the fronds needed more. I’d already aligned myself with the caterpillar killers against the garden, and felt my allegiance must stick. I carefully selected another branch, one loaded with ferny-goodness (and closer to kicking out than some of the central shoots – I may be a traitor to the garden, but I could do the fennel that little favor at least), and I thrust it at the prince. After another neon eruption, he accepted the offering, and waddled his way over, immediately sinking the new branch beneath his substantial weight. Another panicked bob and scuttle, then he settled in, crunching happily away at his new breakfast, again content with his lot in life.
I know it is the nature of all creatures who make it big to forget the ones that helped them along the way, so I’ll try to forgive my new friend if he neglects to return and grace me with his black-winged presence. I’m not sure the fennel will be as forgiving.
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06.10.08
Posted in Society at 9:35 am by JC
Anthony Bourdain (can I call you Tony?) is my current hero. Here’s 11 reasons why.
11. No Reservations looks more real than any reality tv I’ve ever seen.
10. His response to eating barely cooked wart hog rectum in Namibia: “The chief is there in front of his whole tribe offering you his very best. Show respect. I’m lucky to be there… Chewing some antibiotics is a small price to pay.”
9. His sexy tattoo.
8. Beirut
7. 38 years of smoking and he quits? Who manages that?
6. He’s a professional French chef that thanks everyone for their food and seems to genuinely enjoy a home cooked meal.
5. Quote: “Yes, I’m arrogant. But I also regularly entertain the possibility, if not the likelihood, that I’m absolutely wrong about everything.”
4. His respect for religion, even though he doesn’t believe in it.
3. His rugged good looks has inspired me to add a My Five list to About Me.
2. Watching his show makes me want to travel everywhere – even places I’m scared to go – just so I can meet people, see their lives and eat their food.
1. He tries so damn hard to be jaded & cranky… and then he watches people with this wide-eyed wonder that makes you love the world.
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