History is.

History is the sum of all human-kind's struggle on this Earth. But, so much of History is bad history. It focuses on the lives and actions of a handful of great men, completely shirking the toil of the poor, oppressed, and the lost. So much of musicology is focused on the acts of men who wrote the repertoire that defines our musical heritage. But was it Shostakovich or Wagner that put the music in our hearts and minds? I won't deny that it can be easy to be inspired by these pieces; these men. But, I am entering musicology to show the world that it was the no names, the unsung heroes that created our musical backbone; the forgotten slave, the poor Scotch-Irish Appalachian, the mother plunking out a tune on the piano in the parlor. This is the meaning I've given my life. I have given myself purpose purely by the desire to sing out the names of these unsung bards of our past.

O BLACK and unknown bards of long ago,
How came your lips to touch the sacred fire?
How, in your darkness, did you come to know
The power and beauty of the minstrel’s lyre?
Who first from midst his bonds lifted his eyes?
Who first from out the still watch, lone and long,
Feeling the ancient faith of prophets rise
Within his dark-kept soul, burst into song?
Heart of what slave poured out such melody
As “Steal away to Jesus”? On its strains
His spirit must have nightly floated free,
Though still about his hands he felt his chains.
Who heard great “Jordan roll”? Whose starward eye
Saw chariot “swing low”? And who was he
That breathed that comforting, melodic sigh,
“Nobody knows de trouble I see”?
What merely living clod, what captive thing,
Could up toward God through all its darkness grope,
And find within its deadened heart to sing
These songs of sorrow, love and faith, and hope?
How did it catch that subtle undertone,
That note in music heard not with the ears?
How sound the elusive reed so seldom blown,
Which stirs the soul or melts the heart to tears.
Not that great German master in his dream
Of harmonies that thundered amongst the stars
At the creation, ever heard a theme
Nobler than “Go down, Moses.” Mark its bars
How like a mighty trumpet-call they stir
The blood. Such are the notes that men have sung
Going to valorous deeds; such tones there were
That helped make history when Time was young.
There is a wide, wide wonder in it all,
That from degraded rest and servile toil
The fiery spirit of the seer should call
These simple children of the sun and soil.
O black slave singers, gone, forgot, unfamed,
You—you alone, of all the long, long line
Of those who’ve sung untaught, unknown, unnamed,
Have stretched out upward, seeking the divine.
You sang not deeds of heroes or of kings;
No chant of bloody war, no exulting pean
Of arms-won triumphs; but your humble strings
You touched in chord with music empyrean.
You sting far better than you knew; the songs
That for your listeners’ hungry hearts sufficed
Still live,—but more than this to you belongs:
You sang a race from wood and stone to Christ.

“I sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world.”

Today, I took a step in a direction I haven't in a long time. Today in my Gender, Race, and Nationalism course, the conversation turned to education, poverty, learned helplessness, and the plight of American people of the 21st century. We talked about children in an endless cycle of financial disparity and social ineptitude, wrought by parents with little care for their well being. It was a moving conversation, and the class really bonded over it. I am usually a very vocal person in class; I can't stand silence or quiet indifference to a subject, and it shows in the way I present myself academically. I may not be the most intelligent or articulate of students, but the passion and dedication I have for what I'm doing shows in the way I assert myself.

Today I felt like a superhero. I've been reading comics for a literature class I'm taking, and in reading Alan Moore's Watchmen, I've began to develop an ongoing philosophy of the revisionary hero. Too long have I thought of superheroes as forces for good. In reality, they stand for everything I am against. Yes, I disagree with crime, and a peaceful, crime-free society is ideal. But the fascist methods and complete disregard for human safety has soured my view of caped crusaders. Although they fascinate me, I've started to see heroes for what they are. Damaged people who hold a feeling of moral superiority and false justice based on a black-and-white spectrum. The real heroes are those that uphold human and civil rights. They are the unsung heroes. The teacher that helps an impoverished student, or a protester that would give their life for their cause. They are the voices that cannot live with silence or quiet indifference.   

Today, for the first time in a long while, I feel really good about who I am and what I stand for. I've taken a step int he right direction, and I'm ready to start trusting myself. The path will be long and arduous, but I will take one step at a time, fearless int he face of adversity.

Fucking bring it on.

Pink'a Moon is On it's Way.

So it's time I start using this blog how I had originally intended. I want to start posting about what I've been learning. The academic growth I'm making, and my exploration of music, history, and culture. It's been nice having a place to publicly vent my feelings, but I think it really hasn't helped as much as it's hurt. So this weekend I'll finish the Salton Sea post and maybe do a little cleaning up, removing the posts that don't fit with the purpose of the blog (i.e. pretty much all of them). I'm stepping away from the events of the beginning of the year and I'm wiping my hands of them. A bunch of shit happened, and now it's over. I can't change the way things turned out and reminiscing is only holding me back from fully throwing myself into my work and striving for the highest. And like I said, I've got work to do, work that includes:

• A 40 page group history project/presentation
• A relatively short (2500-3000 word) paper about some topic relating to comics. (I'm thinking something definitely relating to the Revisionary Superhero Narrative).
• A historiography about the rise of black radicalism in response to violent opposition to student activism during the Civil Rights Movement.
• Work at the Writing Center
• Continuing to try and get healthy
• Applications for graduate schools
• Practice on the Fasch saxophone sonata
• MY WRITING SAMPLE!! (which  is also my project for my Comparative Slavery course)

Clearly, I've got quite a bit on my plate. So instead of sulking and beating my head against the wall about what WAS, I'm going to fully immerse myself into everything that IS. And, maybe I'll have a little fun with this blog too :)

Salton post is on its way.

I think I'm gonna be jus' fine.

News From the Salton and Non-Diegetic Weirdness

So it's been a while since I've posted, but move-in and the first week of classes has kept me plenty busy. I believe I will probably just try to post weekly for a mental check-up. Or, if my research heats up and I get excited, I'll just post on here. As for now: 3 things.

First and foremost, I got the writing center job and will be starting the 31st! There I will conduct one-on-one student consultations to examine issues in their writing, and give my professional opinion on how to fix said problems, and, despite the horror stories, I'm excited. This job will give me a chance to get some tutoring experience while looking for ways to develop my own writing before graduate school next year.

Secondly, this semester is exciting so far, but I have some valid concerns. Some of my courses, specifically my "Comparative Slavery" course, will be both thought-provoking and challenging. The amount of reading and note-taking will test me, and push me further in my writing and research skills. Conversely, I have courses like "History & Historians" and "Survey of Blues & Rock n' Roll" that make me want to strangle myself out of boredom. They're like a bad joke. The only thing that could redeem the blues n' rock class would be mind-numbing, MUS 351-esque, listening quizzes, and intense, discussion-based lectures. Alas; no dice. No matter, I'll find way to make it interesting.

Thirdly, I was watching one of my favorite films with Tbird, and it got me thinking about the nature of diegesis in film, as well as one of my own strange quirks. The film was The Truman Show, probably the single most important role Jim Carey ever played (I've never seen Eternal Sunshine, so this is slightly biased).
In the film, Jim Carey is Truman Burbank, an honest, hardworking nobody who lives on the most beautiful place on Earth, Seahaven. (Spoilers) As one watches, they learn that Truman's entire life is a television show in which he is the star, and everyone else is just actors. Truman has no idea about this; he was born and raised in Seahaven, and because of a debilitating fear to leave the island, has not had contact outside of Seahaven. It's a top notch film and I couldn't recommend one better.

My point, though, is about the blending of both non- and diegetic musical elements in the film. Diegetic music is sound that the characters in the movie can actually hear. For example, if a character plays a piano, or if a record player is playing in the background. Non-diegetic music, conversely, is music that only the audience can hear. Examples include the score, the sound effects, or any other sounds that are not directly being made in the charcter's sphere of existence. Now the odd transitory deigetic moments that I am talking about happen around 1:01 and 1:11. Music is playing that fits the scene; definitely non-diegetic to Truman, but when the camera is showing the control room with Christof, you can see Philip Glass (the composer of the film) playing the exact piano part. The music transitions between non-diegetic in Truman's world, to diegetic in the "real world". Apart from the diegetic musical elements, there are cinematic diegetic elements that I'm not really all that qualified to talk about :P

Now for my quirk: Sometimes, when I'm working out and listening to music, I pretend that the music I'm listening to is non-diegetic; that if someone was watching the movie of my life (god-forbid) they would be hearing that exact music at the time. I do the same thing in the car as well. The soundtrack of my life.

My Heirloom

This is the only real souvenir I got for myself when I went to Europe in May. It's a 'waiter model' Swiss Army knife, and I picked it up in Switzerland. This, along with a bitchin' nice tea set and pipe collection, will be something I want to pass down to my firstborn son/daughter or the like and have in the family for generations. Up until yesterday, though, I thought I had lost the knife. I had it in Paris before we left and when we got back, it was no longer where I thought I had put it. Needless to say,  I was pretty heartbroken/butthurt about it.

Yesterday, when I was putting on a pair of jeans (it was chilly), I found the pocketknife in the front pocket. Apparently the day I left I switched back to shorts for the plane ride and didn't realize that the knife was in the pocket.

TL;DR: Found ma knife. Yesterday was a good day.

How Nolan did Catwoman Right, and A Critical Reaction to Dark Knight Rises

I think it's funny that my first (real) post will be about comic books and The Dark Knight Rises instead of the Alpha Shipwreck or the research topic for my writing samples, but after seeing the movie I have a lot to say. This post is in response to the way some characters where depicted, as well as a comparison between "Comic book Batman" and "Film Batman". This post will probably contain spoilers in the second half of the post, so, if you haven't seen the movie yet, please refrain from reading until after you have.

First, I will praise the movie. I believe Nolan has done a wonderful job in portray Batman in a very gritty realistic fashion, and I find his story-telling to be compelling and well done. The ending was a pleasant twist that was, truly, unexpected. I was convinced the Dark Knight franchise was a trilogy so, I hope the movies to come (I  don't know if there are production plans for them) are as great as the first three movies. I would also like to praise the very mature and accurate way they portrayed the character of catwoman.

Earlier this summer I read an article by Laura Hudson, the former editor and chief of the website Comics Alliance. The article was entitled "The Big Sexy Problem Superheroines and their 'Liberated Sexuality'"; an article that addressed grievances with how the characters of Starfire and Catwoman and their new 'liberated sexuality' was depicted in DC's new line of comics, the New 52. Now, the original purpose of the New 52 was to start to gather a new fanbase by making the comics more accessible to folks that had no previous comic knowledge, a female readership, and already devoted DC fans.  Instead of this, they pandered to the same fanboy constituency by creating sexually deviant, and ultimately failed characters. A quote from the article that more or less sums up the catwoman fiasco:

     "Let's start with Catwoman. The writer and artist have decided that out of all possible introductions to the character of Selina Kyle, the moment we're going to meet her is going to be the one where she happens to be half-dressed and sporting bright red lingerie. That is in fact all we see of her for two pages: shots of her breasts. Most problematically, we are shown her breasts and her body over and over for two pages, but NOT her face. No joke, we get a very clear and detailed shot of her butt in black latex before we ever see her face looks like. Can't you show us the playful or confident look in her eye as she puts on her sexy costume? Because without that it's impossible to connect with the character on any other level than a boner, and I'm afraid I don't have one of those."

Hey look, a butt.

The new Catwoman comic also contains a sex scene on the roof of a building with Batman, a panel that was, more of less, unnecessary. The rest of the article sums up my feelings on the matter nicely, so please take the time to read it if possible. Nolan's Catwoman, on the other hand, was portrayed as a strong, independent woman who took what she wanted, when she wanted it. She was vulnerable to an extent, but in a way that portrayed her in a human light, not a "Oh help me I'm a helpless womanfolk" manner. She was sexy because she was portrayed as such a strong female character, not just because she flaunted around her body. Good on you, Mr. Nolan.

Spoiler time:
My second set of thoughts is a comic book nerd's grievances with false story arcs. When Bane (who is supposed to Hispanic, not a Sean Connery impersonator), breaks Wayne's back, that is the end of the Bruce Wayne as Batman legacy. I believe it's Dick Greyson who takes up the cowl after him (I might be mistaken, it could be Damien Wayne). Also, John Blake was never a Robin identity. That irked me slightly.

Don't get me wrong, as a film buff I enjoyed the movie and I've enjoyed the franchise, but as a believer of tragedy in film, and a comic book lover, Batman should have ended with the breaking of Wayne's spine. Just saying.

Purpose of the Blog/ Picture of My Passion of the Month

In this blog I intend to write down the following when I get the chance:

• New or exciting things I learned.
• Updates on my research, which could be the same as the first bullet.
• What is stressing me out.
• My feelings about certain subjects or current topics.
• Rants if I'm pissed* 
• Exciting personal events.

Things I'll try not to post (but I will never promise)

• Opinions that could overly offend a demographic.
• Opinions that are not supported by academically sound sources** 
• Obviously malicious material.

This blog is to share and sort my thoughts, so please, enjoy. And feel free to learn something if you can.

***Ain't she a beaut'

* the following will always have names changed if they are about certain people.

**I do use wikipedia to explain basic concepts but I do not recognize it as a legitimate source.

*** Photo of the Alpha shipwreck at Ogden Dunes, Indiana.