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today i relearned

ric ocasek was the producer for one of the best albums of all time -- the blue album [notwithstanding his personal efforts of great merit]. we raised a glass and tipped our caps.
Unwedded: yet rise now, and let us fly, for i will draw me into sanctuary, and bide my doom.' so lancelot got her horse, set her thereon, and mounted on his own, and then they rode to the divided way, there kissed, and parted weeping: for he past, love-loyal to the least wish of the queen, back to his land; but she to almesbury fled all night long by glimmering waste and weald, and heard the spirits of the waste and weald moan as she fled, or thought she heard them moan:


in your public life...
words that embody things that may be a part of you are "cage, gentle, hunt, jazz, record, satin, sight, smoke, user, witch".

words that embody people or things in your periphery are "ambush, anonymity, attention, body, bosom, cabal, chaos, chosen, circus, compliance, copper, crimson, crown, darkness, dictionary, drama, emissary, excitement, exhaustion, flute, focus, future, gangster, girl, grass, guide, hacker, hell, hermit, hero, hunger, invader, labyrinth, liberty, madman, mercy, mirror, movie, nation, number, numerology, obelisk, octopus, overlord, parliament, phoenix, poor, prey, prison, psychedelic, psychology, pulse, sacrifice, satisfaction, scorpion, sensuality, shame, sound, spirit, stone, struggle, succubus, supply, suspense, syzygy, tattoo, theory, usurper, warlord".



in your private life...
words that embody your presence are "ancestor, grotto, halloween, martyr, mustang, neptune, unholy, virtue".

words that embody the people or things that you interact with are "blues, dragon, finger, island, joker, rook, scream, shackle, slave, tiger".

words that embody people or things in your periphery are "civilization, entertainment, illumination".



in your spiritual life...
words that embody things that may be a part of you are "Car".

words that embody people or things in your periphery are "bitch, boy, cat, chronology, cloak, conspiracy, dawn, ear, fish, gun, lady, leg, rain, sin, wand, war".

mystery photo i addendum

i appreciate the thought that it's even feasible that i could be the driver in the photo and that i'd ever have spent a day driving a beauty like that around (and also that fantastic car [ba-dum dum]). interesting fox guess though -- one of my favorite people.

i thought the terrain and the scene might be recognizable to certain of my friends, but with few enough details shown, it's understandably less likely.

addendum photos below the cut

fronts of faces!Collapse )
today's [virtual] fortune cookie message to me:

you've got what it takes, but it will take everything you've got!
daily numbers (pick3): 477
i'm so glad no-posts may is over!
now i may finally post again!

full to the broad, unsounded sea

by rls, because i haven't been writing


hail! childish slaves of social rules
you had yourselves a hand in making!
how i could shake your faith, ye fools,
if but i thought it worth the shaking.
i see, and pity you; and then
go, casting off the idle pity,
in search of better, braver men,
my own way freely through the city.

my own way freely, and not yours;
and, careless of a town's abusing,
seek real friendship that endures
among the friends of my own choosing.
i'll choose my friends myself, do you hear?
and won't let mrs. grundy do it,
tho' all i honour and hold dear
and all i hope should move me to it.

i take my old coat from the shelf -
i am a man of little breeding.
and only dress to please myself -
i own, a very strange proceeding.
i smoke a pipe abroad, because
to all cigars i much prefer it,
and as i scorn your social laws
my choice has nothing to deter it.

gladly i trudge the footpath way,
while you and yours roll by in coaches
in all the pride of fine array,
through all the city's thronged approaches.
o fine religious, decent folk,
in virtue's flaunting gold and scarlet,
i sneer between two puffs of smoke, -
give me the publican and harlot.

ye dainty-spoken, stiff, severe
seed of the migrated philistian,
one whispered question in your ear -
pray, what was christ, if you be christian?
if christ were only here just now,
among the city's wynds and gables
teaching the life he taught us, how
would he be welcome to your tables?

i go and leave your logic-straws,
your former-friends with face averted,
your petty ways and narrow laws,
your grundy and your god, deserted.
from your frail ark of lies, i flee
i know not where, like noah's raven.
full to the broad, unsounded sea
i swim from your dishonest haven.

alone on that unsounded deep,
poor waif, it may be i shall perish,
far from the course i thought to keep,
far from the friends i hoped to cherish.
it may be that i shall sink, and yet
hear, thro' all taunt and scornful laughter,
through all defeat and all regret,
the stronger swimmers coming after.

the music is in you

years and years ago i held a poll about what the superior form of art was between things like paintings, books, movies, songs, etc. superior in which regard i don't recall if i specified. i think no one agreed with me, which is terrific. my answer was lyric songs. i still believe it. [obviously no form is truly 'superior' -- all are virtuous and necessary.]

as long as life is, the shards of life are short, and lyric songs, while limited in some ways in what they can impart and the effect they can have on one, inherently do their work with a brevity that is magical in relation to the outsized effect they have. poetry is a close second and the brevity of most poetry is an element i always treasured. but the best lyric songs fuse poetry with music and the combination of two great artforms elevates the whole past either individually.

music videos perhaps then would be the posited superior as combining three great artforms. and while i would grant the validity of the positing my further criteria is the manner of distribution. lyric songs are far easier to convey to many people in many settings (including the great outdoors). as for example, it is much more common and easier for a movie to incorporate a song than a music video into its own art.

and a lyric song is easier for just about anyone to imitate and duplicate. anyone with a voice can sing a lyric song and convey a large portion of the experience; any individual or group of someones with an instrument or two or three can convey a version of the song which is its own unique experience and work of art even in its derivation of the original work of art.

i also find that music stays with me in my recollection far more often than most any other kind of art. possibly in large part because of its brevity and ease of triggering recollection with just a fraction being heard, but i think there's a lot more to it.

what never happened may have

so it is funny to me that i last wrote about 'the determination of when to offer a draw versus playing through the moves for some length of time' without any foreknowledge of the game 12 outcome.

my main takeaway that i feel the need to address is that the game i analyzed in depth where caruana had built himself a substantial advantage which only one misstep prevented him from capitalizing upon takes on unsurpassable significance. he may never look at with this perspective but for the rest of his life (or until he succeeds in a future opportunity) he should live with the knowledge that he should very likely be the world champion right now. and i say very likely because no one can say how game 12 would have gone, or any game after a caruana win actually, but especially game 12, if carlsen were truly desperate to win. and that element of the unknown may actually be an unintended gift from carlsen, eliminating an awful certainty a drawn out draw in that game would have cemented. i'm irrationality disappointed because as an american he was my champion, as silly as it is to think that 'americans' are a unified whole that a person could align with. but such it is nonetheless.

i know a great bar where they never run out of bottles of regret. if fabiano ever stops in, the drinks are on me.

behind the times

so the theme of my life anymore is lack of time and also the qualitative measurement of the uses of time, touching on such timeless (time-honored ?) words and phrases as quality time, waste of time, wasted time, downtime, time crunch, et cetera.

so it's no surprise to me that i'm just now reading about game 9 in the chess duel, a game which occurred six or so days ago. all due to the thanksgiving holiday and how i spent or misspent my time during it.

fortunately for me the reporting on said game addressed both appropriate uses of time and an issue that was touched upon briefly during the discussion appended to my prior chess-related entries, and which i had still been chewing over in my mind, namely at what point in an endgame does a human player (or even a computer player) decide that a draw is the only eventual outcome [clearly a player who realizes they do not have a winning outcome available but that there is, in fact, a losing outcome available, will be all too happy to participate in the persuasion of their opponent that a draw is inevitable.]

from the guardian:

'an impassioned carlsen bristled when asked by a reporter from norwegian broadcaster nrk why he continued to persist for so long in the endgame despite the high likelihood of a peaceful result. when did he understand it was a draw?

“i understood it immediately,” carlsen said, voice rising. “it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t play. i’m trying to entice him to play h5 and if he does play h5 then i at least have a target. but obviously if he just keeps still and keeps his fortress just waiting for my king to enter then there’s nothing, but there’s no harm in playing. i really don’t understand the point (of the question).”'

so i would think that the only possible harm in playing through an endgame that seems destined to draw is the use of a possibly limited store of mental stamina and focus, the disuse of which might lead to a lapse and loss. the ends (an infinitesimal chance at victory) not justifying the means (the limited store). clearly not a problem for computers. i wonder how far they are programmed to play before admitting a draw (especially since, as nightspore pointed out, they can 'see' routes to mate that human players essentially cannot).

so i am curious how often an omniscient narrator would tell us that championship games which could have had a winner were instead agreed draws (could have had a winner in actuality, not in alternate realities where a computer player was allowed to substitute in during the endgame, et cetera).

when is playing on a waste of time (and other resources) and when is it not? few could say.

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blue legacy
jones_casey
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