Sidewalks and Skeletons + Glacci + Sgrow + Alek Fin.

In the end, oh I know,
never, in my haggard passion,
have I ever been such a cadaver as now
as I take again in hand my tables of the present—
if reality’s real, but after it’s been
destroyed in the eternal and the moment by
the obsessive idea of a shining nothingness.

P.P.P.

Growing up my Dad had a love for machines, cars and planes especially. When he was 10 years old he spotted an Austin Healey 100S racing up the street of Willunga, South Australia. He says it was like nothing he had ever seen or heard before and for many years he dreamt of one day owning the car. 43 years later he purchased the exact same car that he had seen as a young boy. He still has the car today.

Dad has his own website on the history of the car here: austinhealey100s.com.au

Lars Stieger, Hamburg, Germany.

I don’t believe we shall ever again have any form of society in which men will be free. One should not hope for it. One should not hope for anything. Hope is invented by politicians to keep the electorate happy.

P.P.P.

Aldo Katayanagi, Chicago, IL, USA.

What give all that is tragic, whatever its form, the characteristic of the sublime, is the first inkling of the knowledge that the world and life can give no satisfaction, and are not worth our investment in them. The tragic spirit consists in this. Accordingly it leads to resignation.

A.S.

In episode #5 of Vox Pop’s Earworm, producer Estelle Caswell, comes to appreciate the art of repetition with the help of Colin Morris and Elizabeth Margulis. Colin is a computer scientist who created two really amazing ways to visualize repetition in song lyrics and how they’ve increased over the last 50 or so years. Elizabeth Margulis has dedicated her career to music research and runs the music cognition lab at the University of Arkansas.

Her book “On Repeat: How music plays the mind” delves deep into the science behind musical repetition and explores the many ways our brains react to it.

DSA Commando + Frankie Hi-Nrg Mc + Cattaneo.

E incomincia fra i commenti | la sfilata dei parenti | ma io proprio non capisco | perché son così contenti.

G.G.