Many of us spend our lives pursuing a certain vision. An idea, a dream, a blueprint. There is something we are supposed to work on, in this life. No matter what we do, and no matter what else we 618ip安卓下载 we are doing, this is what we work on, every minute, every day.
I don't know how it became my dharma to work on two different monthly podcasts at the same time, and to pour my heart into each episode of each as if I were packaging the secrets of the universe for the world to enjoy. All I know is, I'm glad to have some creative outlets, and I hope you will listen to the two podcast episodes I recently put out.
I'm so glad I talked to hiphop artist and antiwar activist Miles Megaciph on the World BEYOND War podcast. I've been wanting to interview him since hearing him perform at a #NoToNATO protest in Washington DC over a year ago. His new release "No Fear Now" connects the coronavirus pandemic to Black Lives Matter, and that's where attention needs to be right now. Thanks to Megaciph for covering so much territory with me in this wide-ranging talk about peace, music and life.
The poet Michael McClure, who died on May 4, 2020 in his home in Oakland, California, was one of five readers at the seminal Six Gallery poetry reading in San Francisco in 1955 that kicked off the Beat Generation. I always loved his simple and organic poetic style, at once both cosmic and down-to-earth, and I also loved his attention to nature and animals. In an era when visionary causes abounded, he invented his own: an insistence on recognizing all animals as spiritual beings who can teach us more than we can teach them. He once described himself as a "mammal patriot". He helped to make ecological awareness a pillar of Beat Generation consciousness as early as the Six Gallery reading in 1955, because the poem he chose to read was the powerful "Point Lobos: Animism".
Yesterday was Leap Day, February 29, 2020. I spent the day in a mad frenzy, because about 24 hours earlier I suddenly realized time was running out for me to write, record, edit, assemble, publish and metatag the February episode of "Lost Music: Exploring Literary Opera", the podcast I launched a year ago. I try really hard to do one episode per month. I got the February episode out in February, because Leap Day saved my ass.
Creating podcasts is still a learning experience for me, and this is the fastest episode I ever created. Please listen to it! This is the one where I share my unabashed love for a very popular opera, Gioachino Rossini's "Il Barbieri di Siviglia". It's also the episode where I finally get to talk a lot about Bugs Bunny, which must have been a buried desire for me all along, since I evidently have a lot to say about Bugs Bunny and opera. I also blather on about lots of stuff like "Seinfeld", Harley Quinn, Groucho Marx and Freddie Mercury. Because, you know, it's a podcast about opera.
I took a walk through Prospect Park today. These hilly acres in the middle of Brooklyn were designed to get you lost, with swerving paths that make you think you're walking in a definite direction as they subtly turn you back again until you pass the spot where you started and realize you've turned completely around. If you ever tried to walk Prospect Park without a map you know what I'm talking about. If you ever tried to walk Prospect Park with a map you probably know what I'm talking about too, because that map really isn't going to help. It's kinda like life, and there are plenty of ways to get lost outside of Brooklyn too, whether you carry a map or not.
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Movies, though? I don't know. The best stuff was on TV. 618代理软件官网, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Broad City, Black*ish. I can't really think of any movies I liked as much as several TV shows.
Books? I don't know. I felt more sense of a coherent collective global literary mission ten years ago, when litblogs were hot. I can name lots of amazing novels from the first ten years of the new millennium, but not as many from the second decade which ends in nine days. I bet the fault is my own; I didn't try as hard to love novels during the last few years as I did when I was blogging about books three or four times a week. I've been immersing myself in the 19th century — novels, histories, operas — and I have to admit that I haven't read much new stuff lately as I should. I'll try to do better in the next ten years.
I went to the climate march in New York City last week. This was on Friday, September 20, connecting with a massive strike and protest happening all over the world on the same day. My friend Attila had just flown in from Portland, Oregon, and the sprawling scene all over downtown Manhattan was so packed it took us hours to find each other in the crowd.
It was an amazing day. We marched from Foley Square down Broadway past City Hall with a young, energetic, angry crowd — so young, in fact, that when we marched past Zuccotti Park I sensed that most people around me didn't know that this had been the historic site of Occupy Wall Street only eight years before. A whole lot of stuff went down at Zuccotti Park in 2011. Two blocks later we marched past Wall Street itself, and I thought about how we need to occupy it again, and this time refuse to leave.
I've been thinking about voice — about my own voice, and about the word 'voice'. I looked up quotes with the word 'voice' and immediately found a bunch that got me thinking. So many worthwhile quotes, in fact, that I stopped reading after I got to these four:
The one thing that you have that nobody else has is you. Your voice, your mind, your story, your vision. So write and draw and build and play and dance and live as only you can. — Neil Gaiman
A voice is a human gift; it should be cherished and used, to utter fully human speech as possible. Powerlessness and silence go together. — Margaret Atwood
Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with deeper meaning. — Maya Angelou
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Beneath the Parthenon, on the southern side of the most famous hill in Athens, Greece, there stands today the Theater of Dionysus. Two millennia ago a Dionysian festival gathered here each year at harvest time for a series of remarkable dramatic performances. The great tragedies of Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides and the great comedies of Aristophanes and Menander were first performed at this festival, in this theater, where these ruins stand today. We have the ecstatic God Dionysus to thank for Greek comedy and Greek tragedy. Today, as befits Dionysus's reputation for impulsive doomed flights, the theater is a gentle ruin.
It's exciting to imagine how it must have felt to attend the theater of Dionysus in its prime, at the premiere of an Aeschylus or Sophocles or Euripides work. Here's artist David Reinhold's illustration of what one may have seen: