| WOMAD Singapore |
[Jul. 7th, 2005|10:55 pm] |
WOMAD Singapore
MUST GO OKAY. A purchase of 5 tickets gives a 10% discount, and we qualify for the student concession price of $24 already.
Alot of reggae and funk this year! Looks to be good. (: I'm looking to go on Sunday evening, so let me know if you want/what day you want to go. I know it's near the prelims, so go anyway. |
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| hah. |
[Jul. 6th, 2005|10:32 pm] |
omg. |
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| olympicopicopico |
[Jul. 6th, 2005|09:56 pm] |
Wow the scenes in Trafalgar Square after the winning bid was announced was just crazy--at lunchtime too--and i think it might have inspired me to do math. I'm not sure how jubilate and cheers translate into singaporean A level math, but it somehow did. But wow! At raffles city as well, all the khaki suits huddling and then exploding into cheers and jumping like mad women. That lady right in the centre, you there--what on earth are you doing bouncing in your heels?
Passion--
Haha math. |
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| Compulsive Behaviour |
[Jul. 3rd, 2005|11:50 pm] |
CD Shopping online! The discovery (or re-discovery) of yahoo auctions has spurred a very obsessive daily habit of paying a visit to the auctions site and poking about for jazz cds. Very unhealthy. I foresee a high expenditure in the near future if this continues. But at least it's jazz: the cds are at least half the price of new releases in the other genres. Hah to all the indie people; i get my fixes from w. who buys his music compulsively too. :p
I hope to have a real cd library someday--like the one that was on Saturday's life, that angmoh with the funny hair, 20 guitars, pro sound equipment, soundproofed apartment and a 2000 cd collection in a glass display case along one side of the room. I can just see it sitting right next to my bookshelves already. Complete, of course, with the IHAVEARRIVED ladder on wheels that the bookstores all have.
Oh yes. |
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| chocolateandsuperzucchini |
[Jul. 1st, 2005|10:20 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Yoshiko Kishino - You Are So Beautiful | ] |
Chocolate & Zucchini
Ahhhhh, she writes about food! And she writes about heavenly food, and she cooks her own heavenly food, and she also takes gorgeous pictures of food, and--
SIGHHHHH. I promise to learn how to cook someday. And learn french.
//
It is also freaky how an ex-classmate could have become entirely unrecognisable. I'm not sure if XH. recognises me anymore--he probably does because i look exactly the same--but i sure haven't recognised him for the last one and a half years we've been in the same school. o_O omg. |
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| We have 200 couches. |
[Jul. 1st, 2005|11:22 am] |
Mr McC., on Passage:
"I don't know if Aziz is much better than Ronny in some respects. He is a sensual man and values women's beauty - as you say, he is contemptuous of Adela remember partly because she is plain and has no breasts, an attitude which appals Fielding, and so I guess do we. Aziz is not always honest and his manners are a disguise sometimes. But he loved his wife (an arranged marriage remember). He is paradoxical, quite capable of visiitng prostitutes."
Hm!
The role of women in Passage is quite fascinating. Mr McC again: "The gender isue is interesting as a means of gaining a deeper insight into the nature of colonial/racist attitudes and the clash of cultures shows up interesting parallels..." which is yes! And actually the issue of gender may be nearly as important as the more obvious theme of colonial supreriority, because the women are quite inseparable (and insufferably so -_-) from the plot and the men. Englishwomen, says Forster, "made life on the home pattern yearly more possible"--which is such a functional role--yet our sympathies hardly lie with them in spite of the way the men patronise them. After all, "it is possible to keep in with Indians and Englishmen, but he who would also keep in with Englishwomen must drop the Indians." Biatches. ;)
//
Also, Interpol's PDA is hotoutjammingawyeah. We have 200 couches where you can sleep to-night, sleep to-night-- |
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| Ho no. |
[Jun. 30th, 2005|11:45 pm] |
Didn't finish lit s essays la.
Wrote two half essays and towards the end just stopped thinking because i was tired and mostly because i just gave up.
//
But! Star Wars makes my day. Leia's hair buns look good to eat. (:
//
Searching about online for more cd steals. My life is getting repetitive again, ho no. I reckon this has something to do with the current tiredness i'm feeling. Normally not so lethargic at 12am.
//
Haiyah. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 30th, 2005|12:32 am] |
"And, once again, we would like to slip into the relative security of a foreign language, and do an African song now, which we picked up in Los Angeles about a year and a half ago. Well, Los Angeles is quite an intellectual town and we were lucky enough to run into him down there. This is a...sorry...This is a Zulu hunting chant, one which they sing when they go out in search of the lion, armed only with hand weapons such as knives, spears, grenades, What have you...The text of their song, in English, goes as follows: Hush, hush, the lion is sleeping, the lion is sleeping, creep up softly on him, for If we are successful, there shall be lion meat tonight.
Way up boys, a-wimoweh...
Oh, wimoweh, a-wimoweh, a-wimoweh a-wimoweh,
A wimoweh, a-wimoweh a-wimoweh, a wimoweh
In the jungle the mighty jungle
The lion sleeps tonight
In the jungle the quiet jungle
The lion sleeps tonight
Near the village the peaceful village
The lion sleeps tonight
Near the village the quiet village
The lion sleeps tonight
Hush my darling, don't fear my darling
The lion sleeps tonight
Hush my darling, don't fear my darling
The lion sleeps tonight..."
Running through my head as i valiantly struggled through maths and fell asleep on the dining table entirely subdued by the monster. :s
But i don't mind if that means i get to hear more lion songs. Rawrr.
And apparently this pop version was due to some angmohs who mis-heard the original zulu lyrics for a hunting song. I don't care if it's bastardised rootless culture, it sounds great, so yayy. (: |
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| Wow. |
[Jun. 28th, 2005|03:26 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Dave Brubeck Quartet - Take Five | ] |
A new icon again. More ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) iharthdarth love. More, more, more.
In other news, i think the worst of the cts are coming to an end. The worst of the results, however, have just started. I'm still not plowed under yet! HAH. You kick no butt.
Econs was rather satisfying, though post-test checking of answers generally makes me feel luckier than studious, because b.'s got a more difficult sounding solution to our same mcq answer. You know, like i guessed mine into existence and he magicked his.
Magick. (:
Things to do after thursday:
[ ] STAR WARS EPISODES IV V VI (*chants)
[ ] Pack loose paper into stacks by subjects, if not file them.
[ ] Redo the poetry comparison Unseen lit paper. Poor job at PC--not even a job at all, really. Will ask Mr P. to mark it afterwards.
[ ] Lit S essay, to persuade the teachers i'm still keen even though i've not started on Passage, and i only have a general idea of what my last text will be.
[ ]Drink and drugs.
That's enough for a weekend and a friday, isn't it? Also have to work on my violin Properly. Properly, you hear? Properly.
Speaking of properly, props to D. for providing the Wunderful Wizardly Weecons Notes. Snagalicious. |
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| More: |
[Jun. 25th, 2005|11:51 pm] |
More, more, more music squeeeeee! (:
The 26th Montreal Jazz Festival: 30 June to 10 July 2005! Omgomg.
In the "Artist Index" page, i found the following-
B: BOBBY McFERRIN ET INVITÉS SURPRISES
C:CHARLIE HADEN'S LAND OF THE SUN featuring GONZALO RUBALCABA
F: FEIST
J: JAZZINHO
M: MICHAEL BUBLÉ
O: OMARA PORTUONDO Présenté par Buena Vista Social Club™ FLOR DE AMOR TOUR AVEC I MUSICI DE MONTRÉAL
P: PAT METHENY EXPLORING THE MUSIC OF THE CLASSIC GARY BURTON QUARTET; A REUNION
P: PAT METHENY AND DEWEY REDMAN - 80/81 REVISITED -- PAT METHENY MICK GOODRICK IN DUETS
P: PAT METHENY AND FRIENDS FRESH ENCOUNTERS
P: PAT METHENY ET CHARLIE HADEN BEYOND THE MISSOURI SKY
P: PAT METHENY TRIO
P: PINK MARTINI - EN PREMIÈRE PARTIE : BC AVEC BET E. ET CARLOS PLACERES
S: SONNY ROLLINS
T: TRIO! STANLEY CLARKE - BÉLA FLECK - JEAN-LUC PONTY
Wow. Just, wow.
W. wants to go see Glasto, i want to see Glasto and Montreal. |
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| hahahaha |
[Jun. 25th, 2005|12:16 am] |
And glasto starts today!! =]
...
omgomg webcasts of doves, bloc party and fatboyslim today
and new order, futureheads and interpol tomorrow
...
haha i need to experience the glasto mud one of these days
haha yes definitely
like to add to list of things to do before i die
hm next year is fallow year
fallow?
they grow crops at glasto?
sow wild oats
D:
hahaha |
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| Cripes. |
[Jun. 22nd, 2005|09:54 pm] |
You know what, i would NEVER be studying this hard if no one told me that it'd affect my chances of getting into an american uni. And this hard means wasting no more than 4 hours a day on nonsense surfingweb, playingkiddygames, goingout, which is such a pain in the ass since i usually chalk up half the time i'm at home wasting time.
So. Frustrating!
And the best thing is i know i'm not going to get a good lit grade anyway. Not unless Mr B. marks our unseen and Frost papers again; this time i will SCREW MR. P and write my best for Frost. Because whatthefuck, i can't get above C for Hardy. Which has recently dropped to a C/D.
You know the only thing i can look forward to is like watching IV-V-VI, that's how sad my week has been. Also, i'm running out of ice-cream, and my newly inserted brackets are sticking into my lips, and well.
//
Been surfing around the local music pages, soft.com.sg and yahoo auctions and all that. I think demand for a jazz violinist is highly limited. However there is hope yet! Also, the yahoo singapore auctions are hopeless. I need a Saviour to sell me his/her cd collection cheap. |
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| Omg. |
[Jun. 20th, 2005|03:53 pm] |
Omg. Do me.
Thanks to iharthdarth and A. for linking to that sithly place. ;p |
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| The Great Self-Sustainability Plan |
[Jun. 19th, 2005|02:39 pm] |
It's funny how i long for the As to be over, and time to be in my hands for once, because it's probably never going to happen. Looking at the working folks, the Big People, the conclusion is often that they haven't much more control over their lives than we do right now. Still.
See, i want to play jazz with clementine. I badly want to. Mr R. told me, in bangkok, how he once saw Stephane Grappelli live when he was in college, the old man with the violin fiddling the blues in a loud shirt and shiny pate. And really, when you think of jazz no one thinks of the violin, but the violin is a fabulous instrument when it comes to ballads and blues. No swing band would be complete without its string section, because the old songs used the full complement of instruments to wonderful effect.
And if i can get to a fairly competent level of performance by the time i go into NS, i could supplement my allowance/pittance from the army with a weekend wage. Of course, the problem is attaining that fairly competent level--oh dear.
But if i let myself float a bit, then i'd want to play in university, when i get to go (hopefully) to the states in a few years' time. You know, i'd be in chicago solely for the music. (: |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 19th, 2005|12:01 am] |
Sweet, The Dave Brubeck Quartet's 'Take Five' for $10 is now mine! (:
I think Yahoo!Auctions is going to be my new gramophone. And of course i will continue to pay visits to the real people at Paragon. |
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| Hoo. |
[Jun. 16th, 2005|01:45 am] |
Woody
(£295 from Mulberry)
Yes, lovely, come to me. |
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| Thomas, Thomas |
[Jun. 14th, 2005|11:05 pm] |
Through the long slanting of the gray day
I, mute and immobile, watched my son through
The window, saw him use hands as tools, arms
Working hard as crowbars, an energy split of
The sun, my atom building a fort housed of dreams.
Oh, years close such ugly jaws between father
And son, between the old and the dreaming,
Between the looking back and the looking forward,
So I cheat sometimes and think the looking back
Has more magic, the greater reserves of splendor.
It happens when I stop at task to breathe against
The hot sun or feel the night with a caress
Faint but daring as a girl once known near darkness.
Looking back is more than perfume time; it's past
Perfume, past touch, past the wonder of guessing.
It's back in the prehistory of dreams and daring
When I was him and building a fort to house dreams
And perhaps my father loved me from a window.
It's touching on the magic of Roland and Arthur,
On Charlemagne, Richard who roared, and red-crossed
Phalanxes moving as a wedge at a word or cry.
It's where Beowulf has gone, to a land and time
Not to be known by me again, to a place called
Childhood, the true democracy of imagination.
Looking, I was delirious for him, felt the happy
Stones banging the barrel of my chest for him;
He was knowing what I had known and lost along
The way like a red-lit caboose cutting a curve
In the dimness that was my little years.
I ached, knowing that I had come of age, of importance,
That my little dreams are cries for peace
And sweat is sold for food to fill his mouth.
The world had fallen in my path and I had scaled
A mountain away from him. I wanted to leap
Chuteless from its peak into his time, to know
Once more the sense of glory and romance
In all things the mind has fingers for.
In the evening, pink threatening red on the horizon,
He finally came to me, the seven years of him
And a day of his days enfolding more mystery than fog.
"Come with me," he said, eyes of miners' lamps,
A face blacker than coal is black, where dirt
Had so much freedom you would think he had never
Been clean, had never been discomforted by soap.
"My fort, it's over here. It's secret and mine.
I'll show it to you. Only once, though. Big people
Aren't supposed to be here."
Quiet, motionless as a beached ship, the fort
Was built against a split-trunk maple tree;
Limbs bare and black hung over a pit nearer
Darkness than all the caves I had known.
Canopied arms rigid over a small darkness
Huddling like a rabbit down the barrel of a rifle.
I turned back on myself, into dreams, onto pages
Long since read. Ah, how high and strong its walls,
Built of stones I dared not move, set magically
With a mortar I could not mix. Passageways
And tunnels with dumb mouths stared back,
Mysteries leaped, dangers crept, silent
As Sicilian Vespers. Hamlet's father would walk
Such walls. Quasimoto lurked quietly overhead.
Lafitte, Long John Silver, Grendel, shared the dark.
On my spine ice began to flow. I was knowing again
The lost land, the lost time, the lost dreaming.
He crept along the wall, motioned for me to follow,
Whispered a sound I'm helpless to repeat and can't forget
As if a ghost of me were calling on a cold gray moor.
Back, still back, I went, spinning in a machine
Tumbling off my hard edges, knowing the deliciousness
Of fright, savoring one grand moment in a life
So old to magic. And he huddled, my son, my coming man,
For a moment, for a split second of forever, against
The high walls of his childhood. I dared not move
For fear I'd break them down.
Tom Sheehan
from Softblow.com |
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