The Lost Island

The Julian month of January is finally coming to its long-anticipated end today, the Lost Island of the Universal Solar Calendar. Given time, I could probably come up with a clever segue from the day's name to the subject matter of this post, but right now I'm too upset. I know I shouldn't watch the news during daytime hours and that it just makes me angry, but earlier, while simply trying to keep abreast of current events, I saw House Speaker Mike Johnson make his first floor speech to Congress. He used the opportunity to rail against the bipartisan immigration bill, even though final text of the bill hasn't even been completed yet.

Johnson insisted back in November that border security was so important and the "crisis at the border" so urgent that he wouldn’t possibly bring up aid to Ukraine, Israel, Taiwan, and Gaza unless new border legislation was attached to it. But Trump has made it clear he wants to use immigration and border security as an issue in his run for the presidency, and the last thing Trump wants right now if for the problem to be solved and for Biden to get any credit for the solution. 

So rather than addressing border security through legislation, House Republicans are moving forward instead with a hair-brained scheme to impeach Homeland Security Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas. They've already written articles of impeachment before even holding hearings, and claim that Mayorkas has committed "high crimes and misdemeanors" because he allegedly breached the public trust and refused to enforce immigration law.  

Johnson insists that Mayorkas is constitutionally required to reduce illegal border crossings to “zero, ” but that is a standard that no previous Homeland Security secretary or previous administration has ever achieved. It's literally impossible to wall off every single means of entering this country by water, land, and air. 

Further, the U.S. can't detain all of the people who cross the border illegally in part because there simply isn’t enough detention space to hold them all. Congress has not authorized the funding that the Biden administration has requested to provide additional detention capacity, so instead Homeland Security uses its judgment on who to detain and who to release. 

That is not illegal. It is certainly not impeachable. It is the exact same kind of discretion that previous administrations, including Trump's, have used. During the last two years of the Trump administration, 52% of migrants apprehended at the southern border, nearly one million people, were released. And despite Republicans’ false claims that Biden has established “open borders,” immigrants were more likely to be released into the country during Trump's term than during Biden’s. 

But rather than passing laws to beef up security or provide the funds the Biden administration has requested, Republicans are more interested in providing Trump an issue on which to run in 2024.  This is a cynical misuse of legislative authority and further evidence that the Republicans aren't interested in solving problems but instead simply looking to hang onto political power at any expense to the welfare of the nation.  

There is "zero" chance the Senate, dominated by Democrats, will convict Mayorkas even if the House, with its razor-thin Republican majority, impeaches him, but the extremist minority in the House that is going after him is attempting to set a precedent that a minority can stop the government from functioning. 

Encouragingly, Sen. James Lankford, the top Republican negotiator for the border deal, pushed back against Trump and criticized “mischaracterizations” over the emerging deal. Lankford rejected characterizations that the deal would allow a flood of migrants to enter the U.S., saying the restrictions are far more onerous than anything before, and that the border would effectively be shut down when illegal crossings reach a certain threshold.

During today's speech, Johnson argued that Biden should do more to address the border crisis on his own using executive authority and that he has powers to help combat illegal immigration that he’s not using. He rejected Biden's “false claims” that Congress needs to pass new laws to allow him to close the southern border. Johnson even accused Biden and Mayorkas of having “designed this catastrophe.”

Johnson claims that section 212f of the Immigration Act gives the president broad authority to implement immigration restrictions, even though federal courts have already ruled that 212f authority conflicts with the Asylum Law and doesn’t override it. 

This Republican obstructionism is now a global issue that threatens U.S. support for Ukraine. Johnson had said he would not bring forward a bill to provide supplemental funding for Ukraine unless it included measures for increased border security, and now he's rejected the bill to provide just that security. Meanwhile, Ukraine is defending itself against an invasion by Russia, and as historian Heather Cox Richardson points out, the struggle "is larger than one between two countries: it is the question of whether the rules-based international order put in place after World War II will survive, or whether the world will go back to a system in which stronger countries can gobble up less powerful ones." 

But Trump has made his preference for Russia and Putin over Ukraine clear. He likes authoritarian strongmen, and believes that good personal relations with individual autocrats like Putin and Kim will translate to successful foreign policy. He's wrong, but even if he weren't he's the last person to try to use personal influence over these wily and manipulative rulers - his narcissism and gullibility would result in disastrous outcomes for the U.S.  

The war has already weakened Russia significantly, and aid to Ukraine has amounted to less than 5% of the U.S. defense budget, “a relatively modest investment with significant geopolitical returns for the United States and notable returns for American industry,” according to CIA Director William Burns. For the United States to walk away from the conflict at this crucial moment and cut off support to Ukraine would be an mistake of historic proportions. To walk away over an immigration stance solely taken to give Trump an election issue would be folly of the highest order. 

Structures of the Earth

This day, the 30th of Childwinter 2024, is called Structures of Earth in the Universal Solar Calendar. Unbelievably, it's still January in the Julian calendar.  We've gone through cold snaps, warm spells, and flood watches, and it's still January.  I've had my bank account attacked, recovered with my money intact, and suffered a power outage, and it's still January. The world lost Phil Niblock and Trixie Norton, and it's still January. And get this - we still have another day of January left to go!

Below are some AI-generated Childwinter meditations on Structures of Earth.

Acrid Takeover

The Universal Solar Calendar calls the 29th day of Childwinter, "Acrid Takeover." I don't know Angus MacLise's reasoning for the name, other than possibly because it sounds cool, but today was the first day after my bank account was hacked last Friday night that the banks were open, and I was finally able to take back control of my account. I would probably call the takeover of my own account "acrimonious" rather than "acrid," but close enough. No one ever claimed the names were meant to be prophetic or anything.

I went to bed early last night as I wanted to be at the bank right at opening, and I hadn't been anywhere before like 11:00 am in quite a while.  But some time very shortly after I turned out the lights, power in the entire neighborhood went out. I slept uneasily, worried about oversleeping, until the lights came back on around 3:00 am.  I reset the alarm clock but was quite tired when it finally went off at 7:00 am.  

I got to the bank around 9:30 am, probably the earliest I've been anywhere in years. On the way, I saw a fallen tree on the main road, with branches still tangled in the overhead power lines and blocking a side road. That must be what knocked the power out last night. Yesterday, I noted that the gusty winds knocking out power across town hadn't affected me "so far," but perhaps I had spoken too soon. Another fallen tree to further stoke my anxieties. 

At the bank, the manager was completely understanding and quite helpful, and all my worries about bureaucratic hassles - not to mention lost funds - were never manifested. Like so many other things, the worst part of the whole ordeal was actually in my mind.  I was back home just slightly after 10:00 with a new account. My old debit card works with my new account, and new checks (which I almost never use anymore, but whatever) are on their way.

I went on line to update my direct deposit information for Social Security, and was annoyed to see that the earliest they could deposit into a new account was April.  I didn't want my February and March payments going into cyber-limbo, so I called the office and surprisingly got a real, live human on the phone in less than a minute. She understood my dilemma but was still annoyed that I hadn't left my account open. She took my new account information and said that February's payment "should" go to the new account, but wasn't making any promises. If the payment still goes to the old, closed account, she said, it will kick back and eventually get corrected or maybe someone will call me. Or something. Who knows how these things work?

And that was that. Acrid takeover complete. It appears I survived a cyberattack with my money intact. I'm still under the spam onslaught, but at this point, it's just like more spam than usual instead of the 100s of emails per hour I was receiving Friday night.

Time to see what fresh hell life has in store for me next.

Day of Drifts

The 28th day of Childwinter is called Day of Drifts in the Universal Solar Calendar. Ten years ago on Day of Drifts, there was some minor snowfall here in Atlanta, about 2½ inches, but calamity ensued. Talk show hosts and national news reporters had a field day mocking Atlanta's inability to cope with just a modicum of snow, but this picture that turned up today in my Facebook "Memories" summarizes the situation pretty well:

I also compiled a gallery of pictures from that day and posted them here.  

The weather here's been all-over-the-place crazy.  Last week, we had bitter cold temps for Georgia with lows in the teens, and then we had four days of rain with non-stop flash-flood and "Hydrologic Emergency" warnings. It was only just cloudy and drizzly for the most part, with occasional brief thunderstorms, but hardly the catastrophe we were warned about and the temperatures were quite mild (60s). Now,  the temperatures are in the 40s but with gusty winds knocking power out all over the metro area; I've been fine (so far). 

The spam attack unleashed on me Friday night is still ongoing, but down to a manageable 5-10 messages an hour. Annoying but manageable. I've been checking my bank balance several times a day and my money's still there, although even I can't access it.  I have to wait until tomorrow morning for the banks to open to set up a new account. I kind of feel like I've been held up at gunpoint, but managed to escape with my wallet and only minor injuries. 

The Barren Swarm

It finally happened to me but I don't want to talk about it, at least in much detail, but I finally fell victim to a phishing fraud and am now working my way through the consequences.

On an appalling regular basis, I get emails and texts telling me that the Amazon order I placed needs clarification of the mailing address (when I hadn't ordered anything from Amazon), that my credit card is being frozen due to suspicious activity (when the card's online site shows nothing to be amiss), that someone needs my approval to ship the new laptop I just purchased (when I hadn't purchased anything, much less a new laptop).  You probably get these as well - they're a minor nuisance of the age in which we we live. I just delete them without any response or other interaction and move on with life.

Some of them are very clever and look and sound very much like legitimate messages, but there's almost always some goofy grammatical or punctuation error ("your credit card will be cut-off," or "please to respond immediately"). Regardless, I delete and ignore.

Early yesterday evening, I was at an unusually vulnerable moment. I had just paid a new contractor online for gutter and roof cleaning, and before said contractor was even out of the 'hood, I got a text message from my bank about a suspicious purchase at a Walmart store.  Fifteen or so years ago, the last time I experienced fraud, checks were being cashed in my name at a Walmart's, so the message triggered me. 

It looked very authentic without the usual grammar errors, and said that if the charge wasn't mine, I should click the link for [bank name].cancel.info.  I knew better than to click a link in a text message, but I typed the web address into my computer and my bank's website came up. 

But as I logged in, a few things felt off. It asked for a phone number so it could text me a verification code, but my bank already had my phone number.  I sent my number anyway, and the code didn't work. A second text appeared on my phone without any additional prompt and the second code worked, but Windows immediately threw a warning message up about a fraudulent website ahead.

I immediately logged off and went onto my legitimate bank site and changed my password to a new "strong" one, but it apparently was too late.  I began getting literally hundreds of spam emails, coming in faster than I could delete.  I was under an extreme, spam denial-of-service attack.

Online advise about what to do was all over the place.  One site recommended I contact my ISP and change my email address, which I didn't want to do as I've had the same address for some 20 years.  Another site advised to just "grin and bare it," and that these attacks usually last "less than a week." One said I should contact my firm's network administrator for help (as if I had one) and another advised that the reason for spam attacks like this was usually so the victim wouldn't notice or see legitimate notification emails from banks or credit cards - it's a smoke screen to cover the thieves tracks.

I started the Sisyphusian task of marking all the new emails as "spam" even as they were still swarming in, and noticed that, sure enough, there was a legitimate notification from my bank in there advising me that the email and home address on my account had been changed. Since I had only changed my password and not the other info, I immediately got on the phone with my bank. All my money was still there, but the bank acknowledged that someone had changed the email and mailing address. It took a long time, but the bank finally closed my account and froze it so that no funds could neither be withdrawn nor deposited.

This was all on a Friday evening, so the long and short of it is that I have to wait until Monday morning to open a new account at a branch office of my bank - apparently this can't be done on line or over the phone.  I can't do any online banking until then and my debit card is frozen.  But at least my money wasn't stolen.

The spam attack is still underway but seems to be abating. Where I was getting literally hundreds per hours last night, now I'm getting only 10 or 20 per hour. The nuisances of modern life.

Anyway, lessons learned and here's what I want to advise you, my friends. I was wary and alert to phishing schemes and thought I was smarter than the other victims. But then the perfect storm of a moment of uncertainty (who did I just pay with my credit card?) coupled with a particularly skillful scam (the fraudulent website really did look like my bank's) caught me off-guard just enough to overcome my skepticism and snag me.

Be careful out there. Trust no one. And if something doesn't sound right, it probably isn't.

The Crescent Heart

Today, this 26th day of Childwinter 2024, is known as The Crescent Heart. I have no idea what the name means, although it does sound poetic. A Google search directed me toward recipes for some kind of pastry, which I'm pretty sure isn't what Angus MacLise was thinking. 

For this post, I tried to create an image of a crescent moon inside of a human chest where the heart should be, but with little success. I tried using several different AI models - DALLE-3, Midjourney, Stable Diffusion XL, and Playground - and multiple prompts for each, but none generated an image even close to that which I had in mind.  I got crescents tattooed on chests, I got anatomical diagrams in front of crescent moons, I got crescent moons floating in front of humans with varying levels of internal organs revealed.  But I couldn't get a crescent instead of a heart, only various combinations of the two.  

It's hard to generate a specific image exactly as you imagined it, but that's part of the fun of using generative AI models. It's a collaborative effort between you, the user, and the model.  Between man and machine, as it were. Generally speaking, the embellishments that the AI adds, like the ornamentation along the borders of the picture above, are welcome enhancements to the imagery. And if you don't like the embellishments, you  can just try prompting again and see what comes up next.

Yesterday, the New York Times ran an article about AI image generators and copyright infringement. The Times has sued OpenAI for copyright infringement based on its alleged use of the paper's news content. OpenAI developed the DALLE-3 image generator, which is accessible for free to any and all users through the OpenAI app and website. The model was also licensed by Microsoft and is accessible on its Bing website. 

But the Times article wasn't about OpenAI or the DALLE-3 model, but about Midjourney, a separate software created by a separate developer, but which also generates images based on prompts suggested by the user. According to the article, a movie concept artist based in Michigan and a professor at NYU were able to use Midjourney to create images that were very nearly identical to scenes from motion pictures, which of course are protected by copyright. The article claims the generated images are clear evidence of exploitation and use of intellectual property for which Midjourney is not licensed. 

What bothers me is that the prompts used specifically requested a "screenshot from a movie" and a "popular movie screencap" and then they were shocked - shocked, I tell you - clutching their pearls when the AI gave them exactly what they were requesting. 

Putting aside the issue of fair use and whether this is copyright and IP infringement at all, the question is who's the bad actor here - the two who requested a copyright image or the tool they used to generate it?  If I were to illegally take a photograph of a protected artwork, who is guilty - the photographer or the manufacturer of the camera?

Also, and this may not surprise you, but I used the exact same prompts identified in the article in Midjourney and got different, sometimes very different, results. I can only conclude that the two must have rolled the dice many, many times before they got the close matches shown in the article.  

There is no discussion in the article on how AI image generators actually work. Many online commenters on the article expressed outrage that the models can freely go online, "scrape" the protected content of websites to create a database of images, and then use  the collected images to generate their own creations.  

But that's not how generative AI works. There is no "database" of collected images and the generators don't assemble bits and pieces of other images and then sort of "photoshop" them together. They do not simply slap images together like a collage. What they do is actually far more complex and, frankly, amazing than that. 

I'm no tech or AI expert, but even I know that the models don't "know" or "think about" how to fulfill a prompt, even though we often use those very words to describe the process. Instead, they  translate the prompt words into mathematical terms so they can then do predictive diffusion, and then they apply a learned set of probabilities that correspond to the prompted words. The models predictively remove pixels from a starting image of random static, and then repeat this process over and over again until they form a final image. 

The models "learn" by reviewing millions and millions of images on the internet. The "scraping" is fundamentally the same thing as Google and other search engines do with words.  A human looks at pictures and images and doesn't "steal" but learns millions of different lessons and techniques, which in turn influences (consciously or otherwise) their resulting style. All artists, without exception, learned and are influenced by the artists before them. It's the same with AI, and the data the models train on is so vast that any one artist's entire lifetime catalog of work wouldn't constitute even a tiny percent of the information in these models. 

But the Times article doesn't describe any of that and instead allows literally hundreds of commenters to express their outrage over a misunderstanding of the technology.  The article doesn't explicitly promote any disinformation but comes very close to implying the models are illegally storing copyrighted material. It's tempting to think the Times, with their lawsuit against OpenAI, are deliberately trying to stir up public sentiment against AI to support their case.  

It doesn't comfort me that I wrote a comment on the article stating that the Times should clarify how the models actually work and to be more transparent about their role in the lawsuit, and 24 hours later now, the comment is still "waiting approval" to be uploaded.

Second Ocean

The first full moon of Childwinter 2024 falls on Second Ocean. If that sentence doesn't make sense to you, read yesterday's post.

Today's full moon is also called the Moon after Yule. In pre-Christian, Anglo-Saxon culture, Yule (or Juul) was the festival celebrating the Hagwinter solstice, usually sometime between Twelfth Ocean and First Day of Quandary. Today’s full moon is also known as the Wolf Moon, for the nocturnal howling of winter wolves, the Stay Home Moon and Quiet Moon, and in some Native American cultures as Severe Moon and Center Moon.

Just as First Ocean followed First Twelve, Second Ocean occurs the day after Second Twelve. There is no Third Twelve for the 36th day of Childwinter, but Third Ocean occurs on the 37th day. 

The French composer Elaine Radigue was born on Second Twelve and yesterday was her 92nd birthday. Over her long career, she has evolved from a pioneer of electronic music to a composer of long, elegant acoustic works. She is also a practicing Buddhist.

Occam Ocean 2, her "second ocean," was conceived in 2015 and released in May 2019 on the French Shiiin label. The piece was composed for ONCEIM (l’Orchestre de Nouvelles Créations, Expérimentations et Improvisation Musicales), a French new-music ensemble established in 2012 by pianist Frédéric Blondy and comprising over 30 European jazz, improv, and contemporary classical performers.

Here is a video of ONCEIM performing Occam Ocean 2 in May 2021 at the Moers Festival in Germany.

Second Twelve

Today is the 24th day of the year 2024, Second Twelve, according to Angus MacLise's New Universal Solar Calendar. Second Twelve also happens to be composer Elaine Radigue's birthday, but we'll get into that tomorrow.  Happy Second Twelve, y'all!

The 12th day of the year is sometimes called First Twelve, although it is also known as Day of the Thought Market for some reason. The 36th day of the year, however, is not Third Twelve but The Ancient Village, and there is no Fourth Twelve.

The NUSC is not divided into lunar months and 7-day weeks for the moon's phases like the Western calendar. Further, the NUSC does not use numeric dates for days of the year, but instead assigns each day a name based on its own internal logic. But rather than one long, monolitihic list of 365 day names, the NUSC divides the year into five seasons: Childwinter, Spring, Summer, Fall, and Hagwinter. Each season is approximately 73 days, coincidentally the same as the number of books in the King James Bible. 

Childwinter begins on January 1, Ways to the Deep Meadow, and ends 72 days later on March 14, The Silent Guest. In leap years, such as this year of 2024, an extra day is added for February 29, the 60th day of the year. Appropriately, that extra day has been named Fifth Twelve so on leap years, then, Childwinter has 73 days.

Spring begins on Maelstrom, March 15 (the Ides of March) in the Western Calendar. In leap years, Maelstrom falls on March 14, but still signifies the start of Spring. The season ends 73 days later on the oddly named To the Inaugurator of Movements (May 26th). The remaining seasons are as follows: 

Summer (73 days)

Starts: Day of the Iron Scepter (May 27)

Ends: Swept Into, also known as Day of Gammadion (August 7)

Fall (74 days)

Starts: Day of the Mantle (August 8)

Ends: Fifth Day of the Hammer (October 19)   

Hagwinter (73 days)

Starts: Mysteries of the Sandman (October 20)

Ends: Into the Whirring Yards (December 31)

Obviously, MacLise was in the Northern Hemisphere (the seasons are reversed in the Southern Hemisphere) and from northern latitudes (those of us in the Deep South certainly don't consider August 7 the end of Summer).

For a society that revolves around 5-day work weeks and 2-day weekends, the New Universal Solar Calendar has little practical use, although it does avoid some of the confusion we have on determining what day of the week any given date might fall on. For example, my birthday is on Third Day of Light, the 61st day of Summer. It doesn't matter if it's a Saturday, a Monday, or a Thursday. It's the 61st day of Summer and there are 12 days of Summer after it. 

It's impractical, I'll admit. The only reason to use the NUSC is to confuse other people and attempt to look cool and poetic. In other words, it's right up my alley, and is the official calendar of Water Dissolves Water.

The Last Counsel

 

Today, January 23, is The Last Counsel in the USC.  That's "counsel," with an "se," not the "ci" "council." In observation of the day, I turned to the I Ching for counsel. Late last year, I had a little project on Instagram that involved me throwing the I Ching every day for 64 days straight, but I haven't consulted that oracle since last New Year's Eve. 

Today, I got the 38th hexagram, K'uei (Estrangement). Fire above, the lake below.  No moving lines, but the main oracle reads, "Fire distances itself from its nemesis, the Lake. No matter how large or diverse the group, the wise ones remains uniquely themselves. Small accomplishments are possible." 

The interpretation reads, "You are working at cross-purposes with another, and the distance between you is very wide. The gap can be closed, however, with no compromise of your integrity. You are not adversaries in this case - just two persons addressing individual needs. Ask yourself: are these needs mutually exclusive? Is there common ground here? Must there be one winner and one loser? Could you become partners in seeking a solution that would allow for two winners?"

This sounds remarkably similar to (and much more cogent than) the point I was trying to make just yesterday. Why are so many differences of opinion viewed as zero-sum contests, with one party winning everything and the other party thoroughly crushed and destroyed? 

Compromise isn't a sign of weakness, it's winning a better outcome than a stalemate.   

Day of Speaking

I'll say this: there is way too much speaking and not nearly enough listening, and I'm as guilty as anyone.

Today is the 22nd of January, the Day of Speaking according to the USC.  It's hard to believe, but after enduring three weeks of January, we still have some 10 more days (including today) to go.  At least the brutal cold snap here in the Deep South is finally letting up - today's high temperature is forecast to reach a balmy 49°.  

Everyone's speaking - they're posting their words and ideas on whatever Elon Musk is calling Twitter nowadays, or on Zuckerberg's Threads, or on Facebook, Instagram, SnapChap, TicToc, or whatever. People are talking on the radio and on television, on Fox News and on MSNBC. They're talking on any number of internet web sites.

Everyone wants their opinion heard, everyone believes their opinion is correct, everyone thinks their ideas should be acted upon.  And that's the problem.

No one's listening and no one's willing to compromise. Look at our politics: the Right believes that the Left is gravitating toward the radical fringe of Maoism and Marxism, and in response are themselves moving further to the right toward the lunatic-fringe extremes of authoritarianism and fascism. And that movement, in turn, is causing some on the Left to counteract by actually embracing the very doctrines and ideologies they're accused of following, and the reverse is occurring on the right.  We are moving further apart with no ground in the middle, and not coming together.

Don't misunderstand me.  I don't think by any means middle-of-the-road political views are the best, or that we should aspire toward mediocrity.  It's fine to be a Marxist, and if you think your "America First" beliefs aren't racist and bigoted, I'd love to hear your reasoning. But we can't assume that because we believe something, the whole world has to snap into accordance with our beliefs.

Look at the current state of Congress.  The Democrats want more funds allocated to help support our Ukrainian allies in defense of their homeland against Russia, the Republicans want stricter policies on immigration and more funds allocated for border enforcement. But both sides refused to budge and reach some compromise measure - it's all or nothing, and nothing is what they're accomplishing. I know that's an oversimplified take on a complex topic, but I ask you to focus on the larger point of talking without listening.       

For many, many years, I worked for a very conservative company, and many if not most of my co-workers were strict Republicans and staunch conservatives. But you know what? After working with them, I came to like many of them personally, considered them my friends, attended their weddings, and consoled them through divorces. We ate lunch together and we would have beers after work. I'm still in touch with many of them today.

We talked and we listened, and I know that they did not consider themselves to be racists, or homophobes, Islamophobes, or whatever, even if some of their beliefs and the policies they supported were, at their core, racist, homophobic, etc.  They did not consider themselves to be racist because their whole identity wasn't solely devoted to hatred of another race and to its elimination, even if the candidates and polices they voted for increased inequality and were based on racist assumptions.

They weren't racists, but they couldn't see past Obama's ethnicity and couldn't understand how he had any appeal to voters beyond "Vote for me, I'm the black guy."  To be fair, I couldn't see the appeal of McCain or Romney beyond, "Vote for me, I'm not the black guy."

We disagreed on much but we still found middle ground to respect and like and befriend each other despite our differences, and worked together toward common project goals. I don't mean to oversimplify more than I already have, but I wish Congress and others could do the same.  Okay, one side's saying "Black lives matter" and the other is saying "Make America great again." Cool, whatever.  Now can you children sit down and pass some legislation to fund Ukraine and to work on a comprehensive immigration policy?  

It's your motherfucking job.

Day of Awaking

 

Last night may have been the coldest night we'll see in 2024. I hope it's the coldest night we'll see. The low temperature last night fell down to 17° F (-8° C), which may not sound too cold for my Northern friends, but homes here in Atlanta weren't built with those temperatures in mind. My furnace ran all night, non-stop, but couldn't keep up with the cold - the indoor temperature actually dropped 2° overnight despite the furnace, and parts of the house felt considerably colder.

The forecast predicts that things will warm up for the rest of the month, with overnight lows above freezing after tomorrow and highs up to 68° on Thursday. We've seen plenty of cold days in February and March in the past, but I think (hope) we've seen the worst that January's going to throw at us this year.

I don't like the cold.

Buddhism puts great emphasis on the current moment, and Zen talks about "the eternal now."  We're encouraged to experience and concentrate on what's happening right here, right now, and not fantasize about a future or indulge in nostalgic thoughts about the past.

That doesn't work for me, at least with regard to the cessation of suffering (which was the Buddha's whole point). It's cold right now, intolerably so, but I can just hear the ancient Zen masters saying, "Cold is all there is - everything else is either memory or imagination. Deal with it." 

But impermanence is also everywhere.  What we experienced today will be gone tomorrow, and we know this because it wasn't here yesterday. Rather than wallowing in my frigid suffering, I take comfort in knowing that soon "now" will be warmer, and someday even "hot." Maybe even "too hot," but I'll deal with that when the times comes by recognizing the heat is just as impermanent as cold.

This works for me with a lot of things.  Boredom, anxiety, excitement, infatuation, desire, disgust - all these things will pass with time and it's better (for me) to recognize their impermanence rather that to attach to the moment.

A monk once asked Zen Master Tozan, "How can we escape the cold and heat?" Tozan replied, "Why not go where there is no cold and heat?" "Is there such a place?" the monk asked. Tozan instructed, "When cold, be thoroughly cold; when hot, be hot through and through."

As long as we are living in natural surroundings, we cannot avoid heat and cold, but we can get rid of the mind which is fearful of, uncomfortable with, or uneasy around heat or cold. 

The Stoics advised us to look at a situation and ask ourselves if there is anything we can do about it. If yes, then do it, and if no, then don't worry about it. The best way for me to not worry about it is to remember that although I'm shivering now, I wasn't always shivering and there will be a time when I will no longer be shivering. This too shall pass.

Instead of abiding in this shivering moment, take a step back and recognize its impermanence.

Works for me.

The Open Book

If you're opposed to AI image generators but use Google, you're a hypocrite.

I've been wanting to get this off my chest for a while. Many people are opposed to generative AI for a variety of reasons.  They're entitled to their opinions. But if their opposition is based on an assumption that AI basically copies existing artwork that it "scrapes" from online sources and then plagiarizes it to create facsimile images, your basis is wrong and your opinion is built on a faulty premise.

"Let's stop calling it 'Artificial Intelligence' and call it what it is: 'plagiarism software'," Noam Chomsky, who's never been afraid of going over the top with his opinions, wrote last year. "It's the largest theft of property since Native American lands by European settlers."  

I'm most assuredly not a technology expert. I'm a 70-year-old white guy in the deep south who still remembers the first time he used a Windows-based computer. But I can read and I can learn, and instead of reacting instinctively against what I don't understand, I spent a modicum of effort researching the technology.

To start at the basics, generative AI creates images based on work prompts. After I typed "The Open Book" (today's name in the Universal Solar Calendar) into DALLE-3, it produced the picture above. It can do this because it had previously scoured the internet to find pictures captioned "book" or with the word somewhere in the caption. Then using some incredible technology that simulates a neural network, it "learned" what a book is and isn't. It figured out other words for "book," like "atlas" and "volume" and "paperback." It learned about the many different styles and varieties of books.

It's not unlike teaching a toddler what a horse is.  "No, that's not a horse, that's a cow," "No, that's a sheep," and so on.  Eventually, they reach a level of understanding where they can recognize horses and distinguish them from other animals without being told.  

AI basically learns the same way. What it doesn't do is copy an image of a horse or a book and then later paste it into a requested image and "photoshop" it all together into one seamless picture. What it DOES do is create an original picture of a book or a horse or what have you based on what it learned the prompt looks like, and based on what it "thinks" the prompter is requesting. It then, before the final image is produced, goes through a series of adjustments and corrections to fix discrepancies between the prompt and the draft image, and finally produces what it "believes" is the requested image.

Most objections I've heard to generative AI concern the learning process, or "image scraping." If it learns from an image without the express consent of the artist, they consider it equivalent to plagiarism. That's ridiculous. Does the toddler need the express permission of the farmer to learn what a horse looks like? Do they need the consent of the artist if they learn from an illustration? 

Also, and this needs to be emphasized, "image scraping" is just one category of data scraping or web scrapping, which happens all the time. How do you think Google and other search engines know what web sites are addressing the topic about which you're asking? The search engines engage in almost continuous web scrapping and cataloging what they learn, and provide links to words that match those in your query. Google scrapes this data without explicit permission of the website owners (it could be argued that posting something online is implicit permission for web scraping).

I once read an artist complain that they were looking at an AI image and recognized a lamp in the background that they claim was copied from a painting they produced. The artist claimed that there were details to the lamp, small things most people wouldn't notice, that convinced them that it was "their" lamp, cut and pasted into another picture without their permission. 

Bullshit.  Frankly, the story sounds apocryphal to me, but let's look at the claim for a minute. One "green tiffany lamp on a desk" very well could resemble another, but that doesn't mean the author has copyright over all depictions of green tiffany lamps. What's more, how did the artist learn what a "lamp" looks like?  Did the artist look at other pictures of lamps, and if so, does the artist owe those previous artists royalties or compensation for their lamps? Also, someone, some nameless engineer or technician, designed the first actual green tiffany lamp, and all those artists are actually just copying the intellectual property of that original lamp designer. I know this argument is getting ridiculous, but that's my point. Just because someone thinks a lamp - or a horse or a book - looks like some other lamp, horse, or book, doesn't constitute copyright infringement.

But to be fair, let's look a little broader. Not only is there the matter of object depiction, there's the question of style.  Surrealism, day-glo colors, pastel washes, perspective, lighting - all these elements were "scraped" (i.e., observed) by AI programs. Aren't someone's rights being infringed?

As I said earlier, I'm not a tech expert, and I'm also not an attorney.  But as I understand it, the courts have repeatedly ruled that "style" can't be copyrighted.  Did you know there's such a thing as "art schools," where fledgling  artists are shown works of other, previous artists - without those other artists' permission - and encouraged to "reproduce" (i.e., "copy") their style and "learn" (i.e., "scrape") from previous artworks? 

There's much, much more to this subject, and I'm not saying there aren't unethical types of web scraping (e.g., identity theft) and image scraping (I'm uncomfortable with facial recognition software). There's also the inevitable issues that arise whenever someone's means of livelihood is challenged by a new technology. And the biggest issue is probably the inevitable rise of "deep fake" images and use of AI imagery in propaganda.    

Final point - an analogy to music.  There are only so many notes on a piano and some compositions are inevitably going to sound similar to others. Musicians learn what sounds good or interesting from previously composed music. However, if I were to copy a previous composition note-for-note and call it my own, what's plagiarism. That's copyright infringement. But if I were to use some chord changes and sequences previously used by others, but in a new composition that no one would reasonably confuse with a prior work, that's not plagiarism.  Even if I were to use recordings of other music, but manipulated or spliced in such a way that it's a new work, that's "fair use," not copyright infringement.

If generative AI were used to create an exact copy of another image - a pixel-perfect reproduction of an Ansel Addams photograph, say - that's clearly plagiarism. If it creates a black-and-white image of a Yosemite landscape with cloudless skies in a style similar to Addams' work, even after having observed his work and learning from his style - that's original. It's original even if someone might later confuse it for an Addams' photograph (as long as it isn't fraudulently promoted as such).

These waters are much, much deeper than these few random thoughts, but I think I've already said enough for one day.     

The Long Hold

One of our favorite moments of the past year 2023 occurred in October when, at age 70, the composer and performer John Zorn finally released the voluminous output of his Tzadik label to streaming services.  Since that time, we have eagerly anticipated and celebrated each new release as it came out.

This month sees the release of the newest edition of The Hermetic Organ. Volume 11 is a tribute to old Baba O'Riley himself, the West Coast minimalist pioneer, Terry Riley. The performance was held in San Francisco’s Grace Cathedral in September 2023. 

Although known best for his alto saxophone, organ was actually John Zorn's first instrument. He credits Lon Chaney in Phantom of the Opera as a primary influence. In 2011, Zorn initiated a series of solo organ concerts in churches around the world, and Volume 1 of the Hermetic Organ series, recorded at Columbia University’s Miller Theatre, was released in June 2012. The most recent Hermetic Organ album, prior to this, was Volume 10 in November 2022, recorded in Belgium.

Enjoy!

Day of the Undertone (Jazz Notes)

 

I'm still thinking about/reading about/listening to those early Art Ensemble of Chicago recordings from Paris. 

George Lewis' A Power Greater That Itself is a fascinating book detailing the history of the Art Ensemble and the AACM, as well as the socio-political landscape and atmosphere of the times, but it's strangely non-descriptive of the music itself. If you were unfamiliar with the sound (and if so, then why are you reading that book?), you'd understand that the music was "original" "outsider" music collectively improvised by the ensemble, but you still wouldn't know what it actually sounded like. Lewis says that it wasn't the same as the "free jazz" of New York in the 1960s and that it incorporated many influences from modern European composers to Dixieland jazz to blues, funk, and rock, but the more elements added to the list, the less clear it is what it actually sounds like. 

Fools rush in where wise men fear to tread, so I'll foolishly attempt to describe the indescribable. But where to start? Comme À La Radio, presented yesterday, was really French singer Brigette Fontaine's record with supporting instrumentation from the early Art Ensemble, but not really representative of their sound.  It seems logical to start with the first recording under the Art Ensemble name, but which was that? 

The early Art Ensemble and other AACM musicians recorded prolifically while in Paris. The French label BYG, aware of the unique opportunity provided by all those Chicago musicians residing in Paris, declared their intention to record 20 albums in one month. According to Lewis, "barely a month after their arrival in Paris," the Art  Ensemble recorded their first album on July 7, 1969. "Four other Art Ensemble recording sessions quickly followed, including two for BYG, one for Polydor, and one for Le Chant du Monde." 

The July 7 session resulted in the album People In Sorrow, recorded at Boulogne-Billancourt, a wealthy and prestigious commune in the western suburbs of Paris. People in Sorrow was first released in France at the end of 1969 on the Pathé label, then reissued in late 1971 in the US by Nessa.

However, BYG beat Pathé to the punch and recorded the Art Ensemble's A Jackson in Your House on June 23, 1969 at Studio Saravah in Paris, a couple weeks before the People In Sorrow session. An indication of how early a release Jackson was for BYG is its catalog number, BYG-2 (BYG-1 was Mu - First Part, a collaboration between Don Cherry and Ed Blackwell).  

On June 26, three days after the Jackson session, the Art Ensemble recorded The Spiritual and Tutankhamun at Polydor Studios (Dames II) in Paris. However, The Spiritual wasn't released until 1972, and Tutankhamun until 1974, both on the Freedom (later, Arista Freedom) label.  

That's three albums recorded before People In Sorrow, which is nonetheless still widely considered the "first" Art Ensemble of Chicago record. Consistent with Lewis' account, All Music and Discogs both list People In Sorrow first, while Wikipedia correctly lists it after A Jackson In Your House, The Spiritual and Tutankhamun.

But still, what does the music actually sound like? A Jackson In Your House opens with the title track. The very first riff, the opening to the LP and the world's first taste of the Art Ensemble, is a trumpet line that sounds not unlike Abblasen, the trumpet fanfare played by Wynton Marsalis and used as the theme by CBS News for their Sunday Morning broadcast.  This is immediately followed by the sounds of the other musicians laughing through their instruments, accompanied by vaudevillian honks of a bicycle horn. And this, in turn, is followed by 90 seconds of near silence, but if you listen very closely, you can hear the opening theme repeated very softly on a vibraphone or some similar instrument.  It's quite audacious for a piece to demand such close listening for well over a minute after only 10 seconds of introduction, but welcome to the AACM.

Soon the bass emerges from the near silence and leads into a repeat of the initial theme, followed this time by actual laughter. It's clear that no one in the studio is taking any of this too seriously. The bass carries things along, and soon a raspy voice starts singing, "One, two, three, there's a Jackson in your house" and other nonsense, followed by more laughter and hilarity.  Someone says, "Jackson, that cat is something!" The theme is revisited as a New Orleans style two-step bounce and soon is restated again in a bluesy riff, all on the foundation of the bouncing bass lines.  All along, various members of the Ensemble get a lick or two in, usually mockingly. It's a parody of a Dixieland funk genre that doesn't actually exist. It's humorous and fun, and the Art Ensemble are advising us not to take any of it too seriously.

Get In Line, the next cut, starts off like a military drill, with someone shouting "Soldiers, get in line!" and a chant of "Step fore! Step fore!" but after this brief taste of discipline, the track evolves into chaotic free-jazz blowing, with both some tasty licks and continued shouts of "Yeah! Yeah!" over the anarchy. The whole thing soon dissolves into cymbal washes and other percussion for the closing 90 seconds. Those listeners charmed by the carefree lightness of the first track are now running out of the room, while those who dismissed the opening as nothing but goofy parody are now coming back in. 

The Waltz is, in fact, a miniature one-minute parody, a boozy, woozy composition similar to Carla Bley's Drinking Music (1969) or Frank Zappa's American Drinks and Goes Home (1967). 

Erica closes the first side of the LP with some spoken-word poetry over quiet instrumentation. Quirky little notes occasionally are heard on harmonica and other instruments that belie the darker mood of the recited words, before the saxophone and bass take the lead from the speaker but continue the pensive and moody feel of the poem. It's free in the sense that there's no central melody to the piece, but unlike the chaos of Get In Line, there's a lot of quiet space between the gentle notes.

The final piece, Song for Charles, is an extended 17-minute track.  I imagine it was probably the entire B side of the original vinyl LP.  The composition is in memory of Charles Clark, a bass player who contributed to early AACM efforts before prematurely passing. Fittingly, it's opens with a showcase for Malachi Favor's bass, with trumpet and sax lines elegantly presenting the elegiac theme. The piece soon dissolves into abstract bits and snippets of words, sounds, and random instruments, and midway through, someone subversively demands, "Give me a hand with these bodies up in the basement."  There's some bowed bass and jazzy trumpet lines, some marimba and some kalimba, but as soon as you start paying attention to any one part it fades away and something else emerges. It's playful in the same sense as the opening track, but even slower and quieter. 

So what I'm trying to describe is almost the indescribable. It's not a jazz record, at least in any known genre of the music, and it's certainly not a pop or rock record.  It's not in the European classical tradition, although one can hear influences of iconoclastic composers like Debussy and Ives. It's not any of these but it has parts of all. 

And that's A Jackson In Your House, the actual first recording by the Art Ensemble of Chicago.  It's by turns playful, irreverent, introspective, and moody. The French loved it because it was the newest new thing in jazz and it was happening right there in Paris. And it wasn't more of that Anglocentric rock music, either. True, it was American, but it was African-American and was open to association with the black power movement and the Black Panthers, which made the post-May '68 radicals happy. Man, that Jackson cat was something!

Day of the Gap

Apparently, I've set myself the task of generating an AI image based on each day's name in the Universal Solar Calendar, and then posting something - anything - loosely based on that name or image. I don't recall consciously assigning myself that task, I just starting doing it and then got stuck in the rut of repetition. 

Some days were easy enough, Quartz Day practically wrote itself, but other days proved more of a challenge. Today, the frigid 17th of this seemingly endless month of January, is Day of the Gap in the USC.  The immediate image that jumped to my mind was of a gap-toothed smile, but apparently AI image generators are incapable of depicting gapped teeth. Something in their programming tells them to perfect the smile and straighten the teeth and create a picture-perfect, camera-ready smile.  I've even tried depicting famously gap-toothed celebrities (David Letterman, Michael Strahan, Sandra Bernhard, even  Alfred E. Newman) and got reasonable facsimiles of their faces, but with dentist-perfect teeth. 

The upper-left picture in the montage above is actually a Shutterstock photo I found in a Google image search. The rest are all AI-generated based on some obvious concepts of "gap." It was difficult to generate a non-pornographic image for "thigh gap." Most AI image generators shut down without providing an image if they think the output might be even remotely salacious, while others go in the opposite direction and generate needlessly explicit pictures based on innocuous prompts. The final picture that I selected may be exploitative, but its summery warmth is comforting on this chilly day. 

My imagination couldn't visualize anything for a gap in time.

But none of that is what I want to talk about. I'm still working my way through A Power Greater Than Itself, George Lewis' history of the AACM, I've been on it a while - the book is a bit of a tome - 676 pages and written in an often dense academic and scholarly manner.  But it's also endlessly interesting and well worth the effort. I've gotten through the initial struggles of the founding members and the formation of the AACM.  I'm now on my favorite part of the story as I understand it - the Art Ensemble of Chicago's time in Paris.

I tend to think of AEOC albums in terms of when I first heard them, which was often many years after they were actually recorded. The book impressed on me how incredibly fertile the French year of 1969 was on the newly formed quartet. They headed to France that year as the Roscoe Mitchell Art Quartet, but decided to change their name to Art Ensemble of Chicago to better emphasize the collaborative, communal nature of their music. It 1969 alone, they recorded their debut, People in Sorrow, as well as Message to Our Folks, Reese and the Smooth Ones, and A Jackson In Your House, and still had time to record Comme À La Radio with Brigitte Fontaine and also appear on Archie Shepp's Yasmina, A Black Woman and Poem for Malcolm. For all that I know, there might still be even more.

All the albums are great and worthy of a listen, and you should go out immediately and buy every one of them, or at least playlist them on Spotify. But I want to call particular attention to Fontaine's Comme À La Radio, which as Lewis points out in the book, has become an underground classic. The trumpet on the album is not the Art Ensemble's Lester Bowie but actually AACM stalwart Wadada Leo Smith. However, the AEOC were at the height of their popularity in France at the time, and the record company wanted to promote the album as a Brigitte Fontaine/Art Ensemble collaboration, so they listed Bowie as  the trumpet player instead of Smith. The title track was even released as a 45 rpm single.

The reason I bring this particular record to your attention, though, is first because it's so fucking cool, and second it's a great indicator of how far afield the Art Ensemble's playing was during their formative French years. 

Comme À La Radio can be translated into English as Like on the Radio. Some of the very existential, very French lyrics seem particularly appropriate on this cold, cold day, specifically:

It's cold in the world,

It's cold, it's cold,

It's starting to be known, it's starting to be known,

And there are fires that are lighting in certain places

Because it's too cold.

Day of Dusk

"I'm about to get sick from watching my TV." - Frank Zappa (1966)

All they're talking about on the news today is that the twice-impeached, multiply indicted, former one-term ex-president Donald Trump won the Iowa caucuses last night, as if that were news.  Everyone knew he would win and win my a large margin. His impending victory was all they've been talking about for weeks now.  The pollsters knew he'd win, the press knew he'd win, the Iowa voters knew he'd win, the general public knew he'd win, hell, even the opposing candidates knew he'd win. It's not news that he won in Iowa. It's just the realization of a self-fulfilling prophesy.

The twice-impeached, multiply indicted, former one-term executive winner of the Iowa caucuses is in court today for a hearing on punitive damages for defaming a woman he raped. But that doesn't seem to matter to Iowa voters, many of whom identify as evangelical Christians.

It doesn't matter to them that the courts have already determined that he's a business and tax cheat, and are soon to determine the amount of money he owes the government in restitution for his cheating and whether he should be allowed to continue to do business in New York State.

It doesn't matter to them that he lied about illegally keeping classified government documents in his personal home, and that those documents included highly sensitive nuclear and counter-intelligence secrets. And that he showed those documents and bragged about having them to guests at his tacky golf resort.

It doesn't matter to them that his ego couldn't accept the documented and proven fact that he lost the 2020 election and he tried to lead a coup to usurp power, a cowardly act of treason in direct violation of civil, criminal, and constitutional law.  It doesn't matter to them because they buy into his lies, lock, stock, and barrel, that the election was somehow "stolen," (by who?) and that the ends of restoring him to power justifies any means.

His lawyers argued in court that if he, as President, ordered the execution of his political opponents, he couldn't be prosecuted unless Congress first impeached and convicted him for the actions.

Clearly, Trump is a dangerous and delusional person, a malignant, cancerous lump, as I've said before, on the undescended testicle of the American body politic. I've been to Iowa and spent some time with the good people there back in 2018, but if none of the above matters to them and they're still on board with his malignancy and his delusion, as indicated by their vote, then they're neither the "real Americans" nor the "true Christians" that they seem to believe they are.

It's the 16th of January, Day of Dusk according to the Universal Solar Calendar, and it's freezing cold outside.  Literally.  It's just 26° outside at 3:00 in the afternoon - if I put a glass of water outside, it would turn into ice as if it were in a freezer. The wind chill is making it feel even colder, and it's forecast to drop down to 15° overnight.  The forecast low for tonight in San Martin Base in Antarctica is 20°, so it will literally be colder tonight in Atlanta, Georgia than in Antarctica. It almost feels like divine retribution for voting for Trump.         

Day of the Left Hand

"Tomorrow when you're old and your mouth is paved with gold you'll begin to feel the cold inside." - Viv Stanshall

Today is the 15th of January, Day of the Left Hand according to the Universal Solar Calendar, and we're not even fully halfway through this winter month.  Most of the country is suffering crippling cold temperatures today.  It's in the 50s right now in Atlanta, but we're forecast to have lows down in the teens for the next five or six nights.

I read in the news today that actress Joyce Randolph, who played Trixie Norton in the 1950s sitcom The Honeymooners, died Saturday in her Manhattan home. She was the last surviving actor from the show. Impermanence is swift. 

Fun fact: Trixie Norton's original character was an ex-burlesque dancer, played by Broadway actress Elaine Stritch, improbably married to a Brooklyn plumber. The ex-dancer character was rewritten and recast after just one episode with the more wholesome-looking Joyce Randolph playing the character as a housewife. But in one episode, she was improbably a pool hustler, and in others, her on-stage past was obliquely referenced.

One of the reasons for the popularity of the show was the unspoken tragedy behind the characters. Despite the title, the characters weren't newlyweds and appeared to be at least in their late 20s, if not well into their 30s. But between the two couples, there wasn't a single child.  Did the economic limitations of their working-class lives preclude them from affording children? Were both couples infertile? Or was there something else? The show never tells. 

It may not seem so strange today to find a show centered on childless couples, but the in the ultra-bourgeois conformity of 1950s television, there were no single parents, no divorce, and I can't think of any other childless couples. Other than The Honeymooners, it was all white-picket fences, wives happy to be stay-at-homes, 2.5 children per household, and the family pet. 

The Honeymooners only ran for one season (1955-56), which amazes me with regard to its impact on the national psyche.  However, prior to the show's debut, The Jackie Gleason Show ran regular sketches of the Honeymooners characters since 1951, and due to their popularity, the sketches gradually expanded from 5- to 7-minute sequences to nearly the entirety of the 60-minute show. And I probably can't overemphasize to younger readers accustomed to modern streaming media how often rerun shows were repeated and aired over and over again in the '50s, '60s, and '70s. 

If you were a middle-class American kid in the '50s and '60s like me, you watched hours and hours of televised reruns from the 50s, from I Love Lucy to Groucho Marx's You Bet Your Life, not to mention even older theatrical shorts like The Little Rascals and The Three Stooges, to the point where you could recite by memory every line of every episode. The reruns created a weird kind of anachronistic time dysmorphia, where on the same day you might watch Jefferson Airplane perform White Rabbit on The Smothers Brothers Show or see the first televised interracial kiss between Captain Kirk and Lieutenant Uhura, after earlier watching Spanky and Our Gang share the street with Model Ts and Trixie Norton marvel at her neighbor's new-fangled kitchen freezer.

Joyce Randolph became typecast as Trixie and never had another significant acting role.

Day of the New World

Friday night, a woman and two children drowned in the Rio Grande near Eagle Pass, Texas along the border between the US and Mexico. US Border Patrol agents knew they were in distress but could not enter the area to rescue them: 

The reason they could not enter the area was because on Thursday, Texas governor Greg Abbott sent the Texas National Guard the the Texas Military to take control of Shelby Park, a 47-acre public park along the river. The mayor of Eagle Pass said that he was told state troops were taking full control over Shelby Park indefinitely, something he had neither wanted nor asked for. The U.S. Border Patrol were denied entry into the park to perform their duties by the Texas forces, asserting that Texas officials have the power over immigration that the Constitution gives to the federal government.  

Of course, this is all politics. Abbott and House Republicans are pushing the idea that migrants are threatening American society as a key line of attack on President Biden in the U.S. Presidential election.  Although they are insisting the issue is so important they will not agree to fund Ukraine’s resistance to Russia until it is solved, they are unwilling to participate in discussions to fund more border officers or immigration courts. Biden has asked Congress to pass new border measures since he took office, but rather than pass new laws, Republicans are insisting that an individual state, Texas, can override federal authority.

Abbott has spent more than $100 million of state tax dollars to send migrants to cities led by Democrats. These migrants have applied for asylum and are here legally waiting for a hearing. In September 2023, Texas stopped coordinating with nonprofits in those cities that prepared for migrant arrivals. 

In the middle of winter, Abbott is sending asylum seekers from Texas to Chicago and the Upper Midwest, many without coats and shoes to protect them from the cold and snow. Chicago shelters are already overfilled with migrants previously sent there, and temperatures are forecast to drop below zero this weekend. The Governor of Illinois wrote Abbott pleading for mercy for the thousands of people who are powerless to speak for themselves. "Please," he wrote, 

"while winter is threatening vulnerable people’s lives, suspend your transports and do not send more people to our state. We are asking you to help prevent additional deaths. We should be able to come together in a bipartisan fashion to urge Congress to act. But right now, we are talking about human beings and their survival. I hope we can at least agree on saving lives right now.”

With regard to immigration, Abbott has boasted, “The only thing that we’re not doing is we’re not shooting people who come across the border, because of course the Biden administration would charge us with murder.” 

Of course they would, you spineless, soulless fuck. They should charge you for murder, or accessory to murder, for that woman and two children who drowned in the Rio Grande this weekend, and they should charge you for anyone who dies from exposure or illness that you bussed to the Upper Midwest in the dead of winter, you monster.  

First Ocean

Around 2011, French composer Éliane Radigue began the Occam Ocean series of solo and ensemble pieces composed for individual instrumentalists. In each piece, a performer's personal technique and particular relationship to their instrument function as the compositional material. The “knights of the Occam,” as Radigue refers to the performers participating in the project, are musicians who have developed individualistic, creative approaches to their instruments; and the resulting compositions are not transferable to other performers on that instrument. I first became aware of her music when trumpeter Nate Wooley performed her Occam X during Big Ears 2023.

Citing the ocean as a calming antidote to the overwhelming nature of our wave-filled surroundings, Radigue has named the components of her Occam series with images of water in mind. Solo pieces are Occams, duo pieces Rivers, and larger ensemble pieces Deltas. With the extreme simplicity of Occam’s razor, there are no written scores, only verbal instructions, and things move at a deliberately slow pace, so Radigue is very particular about which musicians she’ll trust to perform her music. The first Occam, Occam 1, was a solo for harpist Rhodri Davies, and the Occam series has continued steadily to the present, now counting well over fifty individual solo and ensemble pieces.

Occam 1 was included in the album Occam Ocean 1 released in 2017 on the French Shiin label. The album includes a duo, Occam River I with Carol Robinson on reeds and Julia Eckhardt on viola; three solo pieces, Occam I for Rhodri Davies (harp), Occam III for Carol Robinson (reeds), and Occam IV for Julia Eckhardt (viola); and the ensemble piece Occam Delta II for Carol Robinson (bass clarinet), Rhodri Davies (harp), and Julia Eckhardt (viola).

Here, then, on this First Ocean of 2024, is an excerpt of a 2014 performance of Occam 1 by Rhodri Davies. FYI, the full version on Occam Ocean 1 is 29 minutes long and probably sounds nothing like anything you'd imagine a half-hour harp solo would sound like. 

Day of the Thought Market

"The world is getting weirder and weirder. Huge things are happening at speeds too high to measure, or even fathom, in the brain of a normal human. We are like moths in a blizzard." - Hunter S. Thompson

Today is the 12th day of the year 2024, which brings up the question, "How in the hell is it still January?"  This already feels like the longest damn month ever. Incidentally, it's also been one month since my cat Izzy died and I still miss that little fur ball.

Anyway, it's the 12th of January. We're one day past the new moon and only 2.3% of the waxing crescent moon is illuminated.  That stupid, underlit moon rose this morning within a half hour of sunrise, as if it could compete with the Sun for light, and will set shortly after sunset. What hubris, and so much for moonlit nights.  

Appropriately enough, the Universal Solar Calendar calls today the First Twelve. It calls the 24th of January the Second Twelve. The First Twelve is followed by First Ocean and Second Twelve is followed by Second Ocean. The 36th day of the year (February 5) is not called Third Twelve, but it is followed by Third Ocean. After that, the fourth and fifth "Ocean" days occur in pretty rapid succession, before falling into a more-or-less monthly pattern. Overall, there are a dozen "Ocean" days to the year.

First Twelve is alternately called Day of the Thought Market.  No idea why today has two names, and only a handful of other days do as well.