They played the entire Doolittle album (plus b-sides) and two encores.
The diptych to the left was shot during the second encore amidst the billowing fog of “Into the White.”
I’ll prolly post a couple more images from the show over the next few days. Most of them will be more silhouettes of Joey Santiago.
He gave a wonderful, insightful talk on US foreign policy that would’ve rankled the nationalistic zealotry of the Far Right (had any attended); was logically eye-opening to political Moderates; and preached to the choir of the Left. Given the majority of the filled-to-capacity auditorium tended toward this latter demographic, Dr. Chomsky’s words had many a sympathetic ear to listen.
The local newspaper’s coverage, however, comes across as troll bait.
The headline of “Noam Chomsky: US policy serves ‘the masters of mankind’” seems to imply nut-job-conspiracy-theory-cabal-Illuminati-mumbo-jumbo, misrepresenting the actual theme that the US government itself endeavors to be the “master of mankind” by projecting its authority through its foreign policy.
Likewise, the gist of the article neglects the majority of the talk, instead focusing on the more salacious tidbits from the Q&A session afterwards regarding Chomsky’s recent response to the death of Osama bin Laden.
Now I realize Dr. Chomsky’s views can be unpopular, if not polarizing, but he’s one of the most important figures in the modern intellectual discourse of political dissent. Wasting column-inches on his response to being called “stupid” by a commentator, even including it in the article’s lede, is tabloid journalism.
Eh, I’m digressing. This post wasn’t intended to be a media critique (for that, read Herman & Chomsky’s watershed “Manufacturing Consent”).
Anywho, after the talk, Dr. Chomsky had a book signing. I got my notebook & “Essential Chomsky” signed. While patiently waiting in line, I took a couple of snapshots; nothing of import or consequence. I printed a couple to accompany his autograph in my notebook on the Pogo.
UPDATE: You can watch his talk over on youtube:
My wife recently purchased a Groupon for 50% off tickets to our local AHL team, the Syracuse Crunch against her hometown Binghamton Senators. Two ice-level seats, two hot dogs, a shared soda, parking, and a free Jon “Nasty” Mirasty bobble-head for only $26.50; what can I say, I’m a cheap date.
Our wonderful evening was full of life lessons, such as:
– Sometimes the drunken hockey hooligans sitting behind you aren’t actually drunken hockey hooligans; sometimes they’re just Australian tourists.
-When you & your wife are featured on the ‘kiss cam,’ the police sergeant in your section won’t be impressed unless there’s tongue involved.
-All of Syracuse’s goals were brought to you by bread.
-The “Hanson Brothers” impersonators should prolly lose some weight to be more believable; especially in a building where parts of ‘Slapshot‘ where filmed.
But it was refreshing to see, on a night that the Crunch were celebrating perhaps their most beloved enforcer ever, the current team remembered how to toss the gloves and play some Syracuse style hockey.
So my delayed/back-ordered Christmas present finally arrived from Best Buy this afternoon! My wife decided I needed a Canon Powershot S95, as I often told her that I would like one.
I haven’t quite had the chance to put it through any paces yet, but I anticipate it becoming a constant companion, joining the ranks with my cellphone, Moleskine & spacepen in my pants pockets.
Therein lies its charm. Too often I find myself without a camera when I suddenly want/need a camera; or conversely, lugging my Canon 40D and backpack full of lenses around without taking a single frame.
For awhile there, my beloved fBHF filled the niche of a constant “on hand” camera, both literally & figuratively; but its bulk, lack of versatility, and the need to carry spare spools, not to mention the cost of film, lead to its retirement from daily use. (I also took a chunk out of her film advance knob this summer, when I accidentally clipped a cement fence post outside of Fordham. So I had been carrying her with a tad more careful trepidation than I had in the past, lest I cause any further irreparable damage).
A digicam that fits comfortably in my pocket, shoots both RAW & 720p video and has an added ADH warranty to boot sounds pretty good to me.
Maybe this will help snap me out of my creative funk; maybe it won’t; it can’t hurt.
Or an example of the relative height of maize as compared to the lower extremities of able bodied human beings on the fourth day of the seventh month of the Gregorian calendar.
The wife & I, trying to remember any semblance of normalcy, drove all around the area farms yesterday looking for knee high corn, given the titular colloquialism. To our surprise, we discovered most of the corn was already way past chest height.
After almost giving up on the concept, we found this comparatively stunted crop in a nearby community garden.
The image itself is kind of an inside joke. I have a habit of butchering colloquialisms. Such as “six of one; half dozen of another” in regards to equal quantities, becomes “half of one; six dozen of another,” but still used in the original capacity in a manner of attempted ironic humor.
“Knee high by the Fourth of July” entered our lexicon as “ankle deep on a rainy Thursday in the third week of April” or “hip length on the 17th of June” or “up to your armpits in August” and other such variations of nonsensical meaning.
My wife & I often bat these pseudo-sayings around without regard for our audience, sometimes leading to semi-awkward explanations, akin to the one you’ve just read.
Just a friendly neighborhood reminder that this Sunday! Sunday!! Sunday!!! is World Pinhole Photography Day.
In previous years, I’ve been well-intentioned, but still never quite actually participated.
This year however, I’ve built a custom pinhole camera from an Altoids tin (would that make it a ‘mint-hole’ camera, a ‘pintoid,’ ‘curiously lensless’???) from scratch. There are still some kinks (light leak, frame spacing/film winding) but, knock on wood, I should hopefully have them ironed out by Sunday (Sunday!! Sunday!!!).
For more info:
The recent snow melt had created a temporary pond around two winter-barren bushes. There were all kinds of little birds frolicking amongst the branches, chirping, hopping and occasionally splashing away.
Even though I stealthily approached the scene in my best Elmer Fudd-esque stalk, my fine feathered friends all took flight before I could even raise the camera. In retrospect, maybe I shouldn’t have been humming the Pink Panther theme out-loud.
Anyway, now looking at the image I ended up capturing, I don’t think it would’ve actually made much of a difference if they had stayed, as they prolly would’ve been indiscernible in the details.
Sorry for the dearth of updates lately. Physical therapy on my stupid knee has been taking its toll on my motivation, if not free-time.