We Should See Other Blogs

I get so much comment spam it’s not a funny little joke anymore. Seriously, I must get over 50 per day. That’s almost as much email spam as I get on my Gmail account!

This is, I think, more proof that spammers do indeed rule the internet.

This post is for Nick. Cause he does stuff like this.

I am going to weigh in – like every other blogger in the world, and his cat – on the Da Vinci Code. But I’m not critiquing content or combatting conclusions. I’m looking at the violence of encounter, or the clash of worldviews, or the soft words of tolerance as their own encryption.

The book itself is for idiots to believe. A work of fiction, yes; also, a bad work of fiction (that is, insult to injury, being fleeced with a cheesegrater). No need to argue that point.

Rather, what underpins the argument? I think this determines what terrain you choose. My personal leaning is the conflict between objective and subjective historicity or its sythesis, but even that is too far from centre.

Deeper: how do I confront the book’s assertions and its rails? This is essential, to know what to do. I can do several things, not all of which I’ll spell out, but one of which is ignore it and go my own way. Some would see this as ceding ground, and others would see it a being tolerant. Others would fight a surface battle of assertion/counter-assertion while making history object/subject or trying to do both at the same time.

But let me ask you: are you afraid of what will happen at the collision of these two opposed visions? Will you try to squeak them by eachother or try to throw each a bone? You know in the heart of you each encounter is a thing of violence. Either I am right or you are right. In this place there cannot be both. But there’s a third dimension of the casual nihilist trying to just get along with a fake smile and such.

That’s the guy you want to kick in the ribs. While the screaming Dan Brown army is obvious, the snake-oil tolerance salesman is not, though he should be. You can ignore the crowd with pitchforks and torches trying to loot the gold between the bricks of the church; Jesus Christ has bee victorious over Nero. Dan Brown is the poppy seed inbetween God’s teeth.

Tolerance, on the other hand, is like mainlining those poppies: easy to fall asleep. But it breeds its own problems. (Aside: I am not speaking of grace, and peace, and longsuffering, and humility; I am speaking of that sort of slimey you-have-you I-have-me that won’t stand for anything except when it inexplicably stands for something.) The idea is an excersize in futility. The world wasn’t designed so that all poles of a magnet are equal forces. Tolerance – obviously – can’t tolerate intolerance, for instance. But more to the point, tolerance won’t tolerate land mines, genocide, female circumcision, or neon pink leg-warmers.

And in this age where tolerance – a concept lost on our father’s fathers – is the catchphrase on every goody-two-shoes lips, one has to wonder if the concurrent rise of rigid fundimentalism isn’t at all exacerbated by the inherent internal conflict of tolerance as a culture watchword. Or more to the point, does the internal violence of the postmodern lack of metanarrative breed the sort of insane fundimentality we see both in our cultures and others? Can we even imagine an age where men had grand passions?

This is the Da Vinci Code to me. It’s a cultural polarising agent. It will breed five types of people: followers, detractors, rabid detractors, the supposedly tolerant, and those who just don’t care. And there will be an inherent violence to the confrontations between those groups: when they encounter, people retreat licking wounds. Even the tolerance brigade will at some point have to oppose something.

Blessed are the shallow
and the rock-steady:
the oar-pullers and
bricklayers of the world.

Blessed are the simple
who’ve never dreamed rudders
or breathed maps or seen
the shape of things.

Blessed are the blind on
the threshing floor with
eyes put out, treading the
grass of yesterday’s bald hillside.

Blessed is the bitter
wind-shaped jade:
the wasp-keepers and
scorpion-herders of the world.

Blessed are the silent,
wide-eyed, words without
words within words:
tears for terror.

Blessed are the bent
and the pliable:
the soft-shoe dancers and
quick grinners of the world.

For those of you interested, this is the music I’m excited about right now (you could always find out what I like by going to my Last.fm page, but that wouldn’t really tell you what gets my blood boiling).

Espers recently released Espers II, and I have my little paws on a copy! This is exciting in the extreme, as I didn’t think they would actually release another disc, but here we are. And if you like psych-folk (not to be confused with freak-folk like Akkron Family or Animal Collective) with strong melodies that you just can’t pin down, I’d urge you to check them out.

Also, there’s apparently an EP called The Weed Tree out there; I’ll have to look into that, too.

To the amazement of some, I really do like Xiu Xiu’s album La Foret. A lot.

I’ve also received some Wooden Wand from a friend, and it seems like decent folk, even a little on the freak side. But whatever, I’ll have to check them out.

We Are Scientists are amazingly catchy. Not good, but catchy. I’m listening to With Love and Squalor.

New, also, is Calexico’s Garden Ruin. Ever since I got their collaboration with Iron and Wine, I’ve wanted to hear more, and the disc didn’t disappoint. Check this one out.

The Burning Paris: what are they? Non-instrumental postrock? Interesting. The disc is And By December although I believe the title in full is much longer than that.

Also, who didn’t tell me about Built To Spill? And why? Indie pop forefathers, and I’ve never heard about them until now. Sad, sad, sad.

And last but not least, I’m still digging Mutemath. Atypical. Enjoyable. Rocking out. Kevin needs to hear this disc, because I think he could appreciate it.

As you can see, the old depressingly boring theme is gone, and in its place a theme called Fork, a modification to K2 done by some good people on the interweb.

Also, the shoutbox is back, and I’ve added a link to the sidebar called “My del.icio.us”.

dan (myyyyy precious!)

Google Trends began a few weeks back, and I feel it’s time to do some analysis of my own, after it was done so well by Steve Rubel. Also, what a good-looking man. Ahem.

First off, as it turns out, my first name is beating the rest of them by quite the margin. Which makes sense, because my first name is so nice. The others, not so much.

Oh, and guess what? The Beatles are less popular than Jesus, something I’ve known for quite some time, you pretentious British posers.

Who knew that cricket and baseball would be in such a dead heat?

Anyone suprised that heresy is beating out orthodoxy? Me neither.

Apparently The dead community is after all smaller than the gay community. Wow. Way less vocal, those dead people.

One can, after all, compare apples to oranges.

And finally, one could, if one wished, compare lots of things. Not that what you compare has to actually make sense.

dan (also… feel free to post your own in the comments)

Well, my week of re-focusing and not spending time on media such as the internet, television, and radio, I’m back to my blogging, so you all can go back to not caring.

I just got back from my mother’s house – it was, after all, Mother’s Day – which was fun. And for all of you wondering when you’re going to see me back at church, this Sunday I pick up regular attendance again; between Alberta, car trouble, and Mother’s Day it’s been what, a month? But fear not, I’ll be back in the boonies soon!

Also, because you all really want to see the song that Elyssa, Rebekah and I sang at Beth’s wedding this weekend, here it is:

I don’t know what to do, what to say;
I don’t know how to love you, my dear.
But I know how to get down and pray
to the one who’s been guiding us here,

that I can love you, that I can hold you
that we can make it through.
That I can love you, that I can hold you,
that we can make it through,
me and you.

For this is our God, forever and forever:
He will be our guide until the day we die.
For this is our God, forever and forever:
He will be our guide until the day we die

dan (there ya go)

ABC is streaming full-length TV episodes on its website, something they should have been doing years before now, but hey, it’s alright. The quality is much poorer than regular television in much the same way as regular television is much poorer than a high quality HD rip torrent, but it’s something. And it’s on-demand, so it come when I call it.

One small problem: it’s only available in the US. Bummer. But with a little kung-fu magic of my own (open US proxy paired with ProxySwitch in Firefox), I can watch no problem. Oh you silly studios and your silly restrictions that are so easy to get around.

dan (but still… there you have it)

Now they tell you where to sleep,
how to crawl under your desk,
and they tell you how to spend your spare time.
And while you’re looking for a change,
though your pockets are heavy
it’s another hand that’s taken every dime.

Do you want to feel safe
in straighjackets and colourful chains
or do you want to live life
like a free woman, like a free man?

They’ve got a copy of your keys
and a warrant for your house
and a camera on the corner your street.
If you cannot see the bars
it’s because you’re captivated
by the images they’ve set to repeat.

Do you want to feel safe
in your silver and gold cage,
or do you want to live life
free…

You won’t see where they’ve been taken
when your children disappear;
you can pray to Brother State when
all your dreams are all you fear.