Saturday, September 25, 2004

Sound Workshop

Volks,

For those of you who are interested, there is a sound workshop that y'all should check out that will be posted on the class website (hopefully) spoon.

As for the rest of existence, I just noticed that my Sound II outline has been resting comfortably in the fried egg yolk on the plate from which I have just breakfasted. The moral of this story is: important documents must rest in important places, not the petty working class establishments of one's own breakfast dish. No, not there. Perhaps they (documents) should merit a place in the Athaeneum or the House of Lords. Or a drawer for that matter where they (documents) should feel at home with other important documents, where they may be content to flollop in a fairly floopy manner. Anyone who has spent some time rummaging the through the over-stuffed compartment in my head (my brain) over a few years will know exactly what I'm talking about. For those of you who haven't, but would like to, please make an appointment with my secretary, provided you can find and hire me a secretary first.

All of this information is Sound related, by the way, you just need to go through it with a fine toothed comb, or a black marker.

Incidentally if anyone would care to give a short account of what it is like to be in Montreal or what Montreal means to them and would care to put their comments on tape, email me and we can meet on campus or not on campus if you prefer. This idea is part of a rather silly personal project, that I'm going to sell for lots and lots of money. Just kidding. But if you want to give your two cents (I'm looking for opinions) about Montreal, give me a shout.

And that, other than it is going to rain this afternoon and I need to do some recording out of doors, and interview all the particles of matter in the universe before tomorrow afternoon, is that.

Monday, September 13, 2004

"Ode to a lump of green putty I found in my armpit one midsummer morning"

This blog is with reference to the late great Douglas Adams, and his fertile, absurd humour which makes me chase my tail with laughter. (In the absence of tail, it may be my bum.) No more brackets. It is time to get down to the Knitty Gritty.

I was reciting an ode to a lump of something unpleasant or other on the lachine canal bike path today, in a very loud voice to myself, when a racer past me within centimetres and scared the bejeesus out of me. I then worried that she may have heard me ranting to myself, and so to cover up I yelled "You scared the bejeesus out of me." It was most satisfying.

"Now I lay me down to sleep
Try to count Electric sheep
Sweet dream wishes you can keep
How I hate the night."

Marvin elevating himself to greater heights of gloom and despondency.
Me I go to bed now.
I go, you go, you go . YOU Go. I go.
I go.