See good music here:

I've been in love with The Arcade Fire for some time now, but hadn't listened to them for a month or two (oversaturation). Tonight I gave their debut album Funeral a play . . . and decided I need to share the love. If you haven't listened to this band, you ought to. Here's a link to a live version of "Neighborhood #3 (Power Out"). And if you're hooked (and have time on your hands), you ought to check out this entire live show (just type in "Arcade Fire"to the upper right search bar; the best cuts are "Neighborhood #3" and "Rebellion"). And finally, here's another series of live clips (interspersed with interviews). The energy is impressive. Please enjoy.

Addendum: for those who have yet further interest in this band, here's Pitchfork Media's stellar review of Funeral.

The List ( #2)

Book: The Unbearable Lightness of Being (Milan Kundera). As I am only partially through this fairly philosophical novel, and thus have yet to sufficiently grasp its themes, I will say very little of my own about it but will instead extensively steal quotations from it (much like writing a book report in high school). In short, The Unbearable Lightness of Being revolves around the Nietzschean concept of "eternal return," that the universe is eternally recurring. If a person lives but once, actions have no real significance, and that life is "like a shadow, without weight, and whether it was horrible, beautiful, or sublime, its horror, sublimity, and beauty mean nothing." On the other hand, Kundera continues in the book's opening pages:
"If every second of our lives recurs an infinite number of times, we are nailed to eternity as Jesus Chirst was nailed to the cross. It is a terrifying prospect. In the world of eternal return the weight of unbearable responsibility lies heavy on every move we make. That is why Nietzsche called the idea of eternal return the heaviest of burdens (das schwerste Gewicht).

If eternal return is the heaviest of all burdens, then our lives can stand out against it in all their splendid lightness.

But is heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid?

The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body. The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to earth, the more real and truthful they become.

Conversely, the absolute absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into the heights, take leave of earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant.

What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?"


Music: Ys (Joanna Newsom). There are two things about this recent release that made me a bit uncomfortable. The first is the medieval aura infusing the album (beginning with, but certainly not limited to, the album cover), which highly suggests that it would be appealing to those involved in the Society for Creative Anachronism. If you're unfamiliar with this group by name, they're often seen in your local park attired in armor and waving broadswords at each other. They definitely make me uncomfortable. The second thing is Ms. Newsom's voice. I've not heard anything quite like this before, and for the first few listens I unsure whether I found it infectiously beautiful or annoyingly grating. As a result of my initial skepticism, then, I was somewhat surprised to find myself so quickly taken in by this album. Newsom's unique voice (I soon decided it falls into the "infectiously beautiful" category) lilts and flows magically over her own harp playing and a lavish orchestration (arranged and conducted by 60's folk icon and producer Van Dyke Parks) to create an album that defies categorization (folk? classical? indie? . . . yes). The album's five songs are lengthy, ranging from seven to seventeen minutes, and they all lack a traditional pop song structure (i.e., little in the way of recurring choruses), which Newsom effectively employs to accentuate her significant lyrical ability and storytelling talent. While some (perhaps most) will find it an acquired taste, Ys is an exceptional piece of art, well worth the work of acquiring a taste for.


Drink: Unibroue Trois Pistoles. As previously mentioned, this dark ale was a gift (much appreciated). Rich, a little fruity, and 9%, this went down smoothly. A pleasant accompaniment to a winter storm (see the Dec. 4th post) . . .


Food: After the acorn squash exposé, I'm a bit hesitant to say much about what I'm eating for fear of having my bubble burst again. Fortunately, due to a rapidly defrosting freezer brought about by our six day lack of power, Jess and I have been eating a lot of previously frozen items. Not much of a bubble to burst there. And not much to wax eloquent about either.

Failing

So I have good excuses for not keeping up on this blog. And really, there are a lot of posts I've begun that have gone unpublished and will maybe someday see the light of the world wide web when I get organized and have a little more time, which will be next week. Really (at least if we weren't leaving for Christmas break in ten days). But seriously, apart from the day to day craziness that is entertaining, feeding, and changing the diapers of my son there was the two day climbing excursion to Jackson Falls, Illinois followed immediately by the Thanksgiving holiday and the celebrations that ensued. That gives me the right to be at least one week behind. Then, I was excruciatingly close to posting a review of Joanna Newsom's mysteriously beautiful new album Ys when Haaken dirtied his diaper again, my wife got home from school, and then we in Missouri (misery) endured what in most places in the world would be a nice, quiet, welcomed winter storm. Back in God's Country (Montana), when such storms converge we have Winter Wonderland the next day: nice fluffy, soft snow that blows across the road and conjures up dreams of floating down the slopes of the Ridge at Bridger Bowl. Here it's two inches of ice followed by a mere inch of thick, sludgy white stuff. Ice topped by concrete. You can't ski this stuff. It's like what happens (at least in Montana) when it snows, gets warm for about a week, and then gets down to about 5 degrees again. Except in Montana this takes a good part of a month. Here it happened overnight. While I will concede that the ice coating all the trees was quite beautiful the day after the storm, the havoc that ensued has rapidly outweighed the aesthetic benefit encurred.

The storm came on Thursday night, when I sat outside on our porch sipping a Unibroue Trois Pistoles (much appreciated birthday gift from Ben and Ellie) and listened to thick, ten-inch diameter limbs snapping off trees as the rain turned to ice and brought them to the ground. At the time I found the experience beautiful--I've always loved the violent power of a strong storm. Then I awoke at 2:00 a.m. on Friday morning when our power went out. It's now Monday night. Still no power. Fortunately we have good friends that have allowed us to stay at their place for the last four days, as temperatures have been around 1o degrees at night and haven't risen above 30 during the day. So the house is a bit chilly. I'm trying to keep the plants alive by stopping by every day and turning on the stovetop burners for an hour or so. This momentarily raises the temperature from 42 to about 60. At least we don't have to worry about the food in the fridge going bad, like we did last time we didn't have power for five days (i.e., last July, when it was a freakin' sauna in this part of the country--over 100 degrees and insanely humid).

So there's my excuses for having a lame blog space. I had hoped to post at least three thought-provoking, controversial, edgy articles by now. But instead I only have a few pictures, an introductory piece, a "List" that only makes me feel guilty because I labeled it "Week One" (which implies there will be a "Week Two," "Week Three," etc.,) and this. To whomever is reading this, my apologies. Someday, perhaps, there will be something that will make you think. In the meantime, I recommend listening to Joanna Newsom's Ys, reading Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being, defrosting some food out of the freezer, and drinking a bottle of Ommegang "Three Philosophers" (Belgian quadrupel ale). That's what I'm doing in Missouri.

My son the rock star

The List (Week One)

So the idea behind this post, which I hope to make a weekly event, is to write about a few things I'm currently enjoying, with the main goal being to get a response from friends/readers. I want to know what you think. Here are two examples of the sorts of things you can write: "I can't believe you willingly listen to that cacophonous excuse for music," or (with respect to my friend who unabashedly touts the supposed fine flavors found in Pabst Blue Ribbon): "Damned beer snob." Of course you can also agree with me, and you can always write more than one sentence.

Book: Girl Meets God (Lauren Winner). An ingenuous spiritual memoir about the author's journey from Orthodox Judaism to Christianity. While books of this sort (in my own experience, anyhow) seem to have a tendency towards preachiness and moving towards a steadfast conclusion of the rational/intellectual/moral (etc.) superiority of the particular author's new faith, Winner admirably manages to show deep love for and recognition of her insoluble connection to Judaism without undermining all that she has found compelling in Christianity. In other words, it is written in such a way as to be gratifying for a reader regardless of his/her own religious convictions, rather than just those of her own current religious sentiments. However, I'm only about halfway through the book . . . so I suppose this could all change in the next 150 pages.

Music: Destroyer's Rubies (Destroyer). This is one of those albums that I picked up a few months back, listened to for about a week, thought "this is pretty good, but I'm really into The Arcade Fire right now," and more or less forgot about it. I have quite a few albums like that. Most of them don't end up rising to the top of my playlist again. Destroyer's Rubies is a dense, lyrically poetic and musically complicated album, and when I first listened to it I somehow didn't find the tunes all that catchy (perhaps explaining why it got buried in the pile). As is apt to occur in the subjective world of aesthetic appreciation, however, when I started playing this album again a couple weeks ago I couldn't figure out what I'd been missing when I last gave it a listen. Whether due simply to increased familiarity with Dan Bejar's sound or to my having a more refined musical sensibility (um, yes), this record suddenly grabbed me and it's been playing relentlessly from my speakers ever since. Click here for a link to a couple songs from the album.

Food: Winter squash. Being the sort who enjoys a sense of aesthetic connection to the natural environment and hence to seasonal changes, I am currently into eating squashes. Jess and I have enjoyed many a baked acorn squash over the past six weeks, not to mention homemade butternut squash soup and (on the menu for this week) a butternut squash fettucini.



Drink: New Belgium 1554. New Belgium beers are among the very few microbrews that are not unreasonably difficult to obtain (or out of my price range) in this Anheuser-Busch dominated city. Hence, while I have never been all that excited about the ubiquitous Fat Tire Ale, I have come to enjoy some of New Belgium's other selections. Currently, as it is late Autumn, I've latched onto 1554, described by the brewery as a "black ale." While not my favorite New Belgium beer, it fits the weather.

The fam

Excuses

So I've finally joined the world of blogging,* and I thought it best to begin by explaining myself. Afterall, such an endeavor is inherently pretentious. It assumes my ramblings are worth proffering to the world at large, which admittedly is highly questionable. It is a dubious assumption for most people at most times (which hasn't deterred said "most people," given the plentitude of blogs clogging the world wide web). In my own case I think the choice to blog is particularly alarming given the negligible amount of time I have been able to spend thinking about anything not relating to the medical field these past couple years (fortunately I have no aspirations of writing about what I have--or have not--learned about medicine). All this to say, I will begin with the disclaimer that I make no promises as to the quality of my musings. They are really mainly for my own amusement and discipline, to give me an excuse--or motivation--to exercise the other side of my cerebrum (which I'm afraid has atrophied considerably in the last two years).

This leads me to further explanation of why I now have time to write (and presumably think). Due to the significantly extenuating circumstances of my wife being in Physician Assistant School, myself being in Medical School, and Haaken, our six-month-old, demanding more attention than the approximately 35 non-contiguous minutes a day that Jess and I weren't studying, eating, sleeping, or stuck in a hospital, I've decided to take a few months off school in order to provide a small bit of sanity to all three of our lives. So, as of October 27th I'm a free man (at least for several months). My life has gone from 80 hours a week at the hospital to 168 hours a week in which I am free to do as I please (as long as Haaken does it with me). So here I am at 8:00 on a Wednesday morning** enjoying my coffee, listening to Destroyer's Rubies, and writing while the kid is sound asleep. This is not so bad . . .

*Some readers may be aware that I have had a MySpace page for sometime. However, as this is decidedly lowbrow, I have decided to move on to the real and serious blogging world of Blogger. This means that I am now trying to say things that are important, and that I take myself much more seriously. Please keep this in mind as you read further posts. Also, I couldn't take those shameless True advertisements and their 11 million sexy singles any longer.

**I am now savoring the fact that if I were on the Surgery rotation that I was scheduled to be on had I not taken a leave-of-absence, I would have been at the hospital for 4 hours already. That's half of most people's work day . . .

Haaken Jakob

Rosebud storm

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