fifty two

Part VI: Act III is now up at Troubadour 21. Republished, really, as it was a stand alone piece before, but that’s how this whole thing got going. I meant to have it be Part VII, but the broken computer forced plans to change, as it is like to do.

Switching gears, i’d like to talk about Max Richter, who’s just brilliant. He’s probably my favorite composer of all time. Every song just haunts me, elevates me, saves me. He has that gentleness that Arvo P√§rt shows so mesmerically, especially¬†in Spiegel im Spiegel, which i could listen to forever and just might. Max Richter has that quality to him as well as this ability to obliterate you with power and force, almost Wagnerian in the way it crushes you, physically, spiritually. It’s an assault, almost, but, like Wagner, an assault you appreciate, were always looking for, whether you knew it or not.

And, really, it comes to The Art of Mirrors, which i would encourage everyone to listen to. All fifty two minutes of it. I’m reluctant to talk of spirituality for fear of derision, but if you have some sense of the essential, this will prove it to you. It’s like being carried on the wings of angels, hearing them sing in strings and ivory keys. All of existence surrounds and consumes you until you become a part of it, a part of everything, the essential. that’s not to say it’s a spiritual piece, but you’ll find it hear. You’ll see god between these notes.

And even if there is no essential in you, listen to it because it will show you the beauty of existence, the towering ability of man, how we rise like giants, and can be gods. To me, it is the most perfect expression of everything i’ve ever thought about in my entire life. It’s all captured here. Philosophy, love, death, fear, sorrow, everything and everyone is wrapped inside. And i’ve listened to it hundreds of times, maybe even thousands, and even when it’s not playing, i hear it here between my ears, incessantly and perfectly, as if it were a part of me. And it is. The last ten minutes and especially the last six capture every bit of my being inside it. If you want to know me, every thought i’ve had, every word i’ve said, every love i’ve had, every dream, every curse, every failing, every success, it’s all right in those last six minutes.

This song’s been in my head for a while now. It’s called Vladimir’s Blues and it’s wonderful.

Or there’s this version by some random person, which i think is just glorious.

fifteen

Sunset: Part III: Preacher Man

I added a link to it in the Publications page over on the right sidebar as well.

Um, if you’ve not been reading from the beginning, go check out Part I and II. It’s not really a continuous story, more a lot of interweaving stories about the death of the world, which, lately, has been an obsession of mine, though, really, everything’s always about the end in one way or another.

In other news, Conan O’Brien’s show is great right now since he’s aiming attacks at NBC over this whole debacle wherein he may lose his show, which is the only late night show worth watching. Only one that’s ever been worth watching during my lifetime.

Also, this latest season of Scrubs, while being nowhere near as good as any previous season, brings some great laughs and it’s solely because of David Franco who plays Cole.

Everything he says is hilarious and I love it.

Anyway, check out my new short.