First week on the job and I have a double homicide. As I enter the station my mind flashes back to my younger years. Every single day I walked these grounds, until they took my baby away. It’s too hard, they said, too complicated for a single woman in a dangerous job. They told me I was too young, couldn’t be distracted. I had to concentrate on my further education and she would be safer with her father. Safer, such a meaningless word to her, safer is now away from her mum, from me. As I see my baby girl smile at me she fades and the two dead bodies in front of me start to take form.
As I walk closer I suppress the feeling to throw up. The smell of blood flows through my nostrils, the faint wind blows the hair out of my face. I lift my head and scan past the people, hoping to find my new boss. Apparently he is the most ruthless detective out here, the best yet the most notorious detective in this district. I shake my head, smooth my jacket and walk up to the bodies.
As I get closer an ordinary police woman asks for ID. As I show her my new shiny badge I feel strangely proud. Knowing that I used to be like her, makes me respect her less. She doesn’t have what it takes to be a detective like me. She could never give up her parents, friends, husband or daughter for a job. Then I spot him, an impressive figure, contrasted by all the people running around him and taking orders. “He aimed for the heart, so he was probably a former lover. Pat, go ask a friend or a family member of hers, if she had a relationship with a scarred man. Rob, take the sketch of the murderer to the station, and fax it to the other departments. Will, have you found out what the pills were yet?”
My mind drifts away as I take his presence in. Suddenly I feel nervous and I’m very aware of the fact that I am a woman and how feminine I look. Do I mistake femininity with vulnerability? Or is this indeed a men’s world? I compare our features and get jealous of how tall he is, how he stands there so calmly. I wonder if he could be panicking inside, like I am. My look drifts to the two bodies on the floor and I curse my attention span as I see my new boss walk away. I catch up with him near the exit and stop him. He looks annoyed and I start blushing heavily as he glances over my body. I cough and try to regain professionalism. “I am detective Sakura. I’m your new partner.”
hello there,
as most of you probably know by now i'm looking after someone's house, so all of you writers (and i reckon the readers i personally know as well) are kindly invited to come and have a drink here and watch a film or something i guess, we'll see. I've been left here with 3 bottles of wine and some other consumptionousalistic stuff so that's covered as well, but you're free to bring some more if you insist :]
Leave a comment to tell us when you're available if you're interested!
I was here earlier this morning. Nothing seemed as depressing back then as it did right now. I look down at the two bodies lying in a pool of blood. Nobody was supposed to touch them until we arrived, but I reckon that somebody must’ve checked if they were still alive. That poor thoughtful person made a mistake. He or she is going to be one of our suspects, simply because his or her fingerprints are on the victim(s).
The crime scene: two bodies, one male and one female, surrounded by white pills, floating in their blood. “Can someone find me the bottle that belong to these bottles?”. Two men promptly follow my order and start scanning the place. I walk to the security room, where all the recordings from the train station’s cameras are kept. The security officer takes the specific tape depicting the crime, and shoves it into an old television set. I watch carefully, as it is hard to see what I need to see, when such a big crowd is moving around like that.
I recognize the murdered woman and man as they run into the picture. Were they a couple? They stand still near the exit for a brief moment, right before the murderer steps into screen and murders the man without hesitation. As the man falls down, the murderer points his gun at the now obviously frightened woman. She reaches into the coat pocket of the fallen man, and carefully takes out a flask. The murderer shoots her right in the chest. He aimed for the heart, that’s for sure. The woman is on her knees, but before she falls to the ground, the last bit of strength that she has is put into smashing the flask on the floor. Then she lays there, in peace. The murderer tries to save a few of the pills, but then he notices the crowd, and escapes through the exit.
I step outside the room. I take a deep breath to recover from what I have just seen. My first task is to start giving orders again. I have three people under me whom I assign different tasks. “He aimed for the heart, so he was probably a former lover. Pat, go ask a friend or a family member of hers, if she had a relationship with a scarred man. Rob, take the sketch of the murderer to the station, and fax it to the other departments. Will, have you found out what the pills were yet?”. He stumbles and I don’t hear his answer at first. He repeats, clearly this time: “We couldn’t find a bottle, but we tested them. They are just sugar pills.” My shocked expression doesn’t surprise anyone. “Goddamn Placebos!? He murders two people for those!?” At that moment, everybody in the room knew, that there was something seriously wrong with this guy.
I have work to do, so my next move is to head towards the exit. I put my best men on the job, so there is nothing left for me here. As I leave, I notice something peculiar. The murdered man has a smile on his face, even after getting shot. How fucked up was his life?
I like christmas songs.
They're soothing, childish and repetitive. An old man sitting curled up in a corner is playing silent night on a harmonica. The rest of the train station is too filled up with buzzers, travellers transgressing the borders of my sanity. There there. Ssshh. Quiet...FCK I NEED THE PI-..calm down, my dear lad. No one is going to harm you here. Listen to the christmas songs. Look around for the gal.
The doctors explained clearly to of us that ignoring the regular intake of medicines might turn out to have some negative effects on me health. Numb skin, a dangerously active heart, extreme forms of agitation, possible death. I responded calmly to this news; i'd never attached a great value to my own life. She on the other hand acted perplexed and maybe anxious, but her face was so transparent that i could see her true reaction beneath her fleshy mask: one of elation and opportunism. From that moment onwards our relation sort of...dwindled.
I can barely feel the rain pouring down on my face. I need to speed things up a bit chop chop it won't be long till your heart stops. I scan around but i can't find her FKCKCK TIME TIME YOU HA-..breath, breath in. Light up a cigarette, they're good. Haha warning smoking is deadly, not smoking is what's truly lethal at this moment. I chuckle at my own silly private joke and suddenly spot her. She's standing on the stairs to the upper floor. I narrow my eyes and zoom in at her pretty face. No. No it's not her, she merely looks alike. I laugh at her, at the fact that she is completely unaware of the fate she just now managed to escape. Celebrate life darling. Look around again, in vain.
Suddenly a hasty blonde speeds past me behind me on the platform. I can't belief my luck, pursuit mode engaged. Poor little gal, looking fearfully around her like a rabbit running from the mighty eagle. I spot the small flask with white pills in her trembling right hand.
Then, in a flash, tables turn. I watch how she intentionally tackles some lad hanging around on the platform. He doesn't mind. And her flasky hand stealthily slips into his pocket...she really is a cold ruthless bitch isn't she. Aww yeah kiss him on the cheek, you know damn well what is about to take place. I follow my new prey.
So, Joram had a brilliant idea, and kylian decided to go for it. Well I have to say, the idea is quite brilliant indeed. So I'll try to make it happen. Though I'll never top kylian, 'cause he's that good. :)
--
There is something about him.. something that worries me. The expression on his face is barbaric. He is the only one at the chaotic platform that's not racing against time. He seems to enjoy the pouring rain, unlike everyone else. As I glance at his pale face he lights up a cigarette. On his cheek there's a remarkably large scar, one that confirms me he's not a nice guy. I never knew scars could warn me for something like that, but apparently, they can.
The rain starts to overrule the sound of rushing footsteps, and apparently the guy decides to head inside for some shelter. This could be the sign of him actually being human, but something still tells me to keep watching him. But all these people around me make it hard for me to keep track of him. I decide to walk up the stairs in the back corner.
As I look down on the massive crowd, I notice him right away. Right below me he stares at me, with a rather terrifying grin. I shiver. His hand still holding the cigarette he decides to ignore the no smoking sign. But at this point there's no time to worry about his disobedience, because the location of his other hand is what I'm really anxious about. What is it he's reaching for inside of his leather jacket? Should I attempt to do something now, even though I can't move? Before I can even try, I lose sight of him. That can't be good.
And as I'm nailed to the ground, the unbearing sound of a gunshot echoes through the main hall. Someone just died.
(I realize I didn't quite mention a new event, but I realized that it already took me quite some time to write this, so I guess you'll just have to live with that fact. (: )
Ladies and gentlemen, another week has arrived, as well as another subject to be discussed... Well, this week's going to be a tad different. Joram's Blog contained an idea a while ago which we should give a try. So just head over there, and read what we're going to do.
Now, without further ado, it's time for me to get started.
--------------------
Mushy, that's what it is. Mushy. The rain that's falling right now has mixed with the snow that was already on the ground, morphing all of it into some sort of pulp; Mushy pulp. Thankfully I step out of the cold though, and I walk into the main hall. All around me there's chaos, as usual. Nothing special going on here, it's always chaotic at the trainstation. People running, people constantly checking their watches, and people just randomly hanging around... I'm probably one of the few that actually wonders what the HELL they're doing there, but that's besides the point.
I slowly move towards the platform I'm supposed to go to, as some 18-or-so woman crashes into me. As she knocks me over, I introvertedly mumble "What the f-?" - I stop in the middle of my 'sentence' as I look her right in her amazingly blue eyes. Normally, this situation would've been awkward; I'm lying on a concrete floor, in a station, with an unknown woman lying on top of me, people rushing past us, not giving a damn. Instead of trying to get up, we just lay there for about 10 seconds, after which she displays a shy smile. "... Sorry." "Tha... that's okay." Did I stutter before? I don't think I did. "I should probably get off of you, right?" "... Perhaps." The contrast of the cold floor on my back and her warm body on top of me feels good, but I'm afraid to say that. As she gets up the earbuds of her iPod swing close to my ear, and I hear a familiar sound.
Fools in Love, are there any other kinds of lovers?
"You like Joe Jackson?" I ask in amazement. Recuperated she quickly says "Yeah, he's awesome!". She looks behind her, and shakily mumbles "I've got to go.". She kisses me on the cheek, and rushes towards the exit. I quickly make a (life-altering) choice, and run after her, catching up after a few seconds. "Why are you in such a rush?" "You don't want to kn-"
A deafeningly loud bang cuts off her sentence, and people around me are screaming. I look at her perfect eyes, and she looks right back into mine. I collapse, and she kneels next to me. "Sorry.", she whispers. I bring one hand towards my stomach, where the bullet exited, and my other hand's caressing her face. Everything around me seems to fade, except for her. "It's okay." I mumble, and while my final breath exits my body I hear the last thing to ever enter my ears, coming from her earbuds.
"Bang, bang, that awful sound..."
--------------------
So, who shot me? Why? What did she have to do with it? Who the hell is she, now that I think about it? Who saw it? What else happened simultaneously? I'm eager to know as well...
I realize that this is not my day, but that's not going to stop me! HAH!
Anyways, the purpose of this post is just to apologize and explain. Let's start with the first one:
SORRY GEIS.
Now as for the explaining: I've been uncharacteristically busy this week by doing a very characteristic thing; making music. This Wednesday and Thursday there were open mic nights at our school, and I participated. This meant that I spent the days before that practicing, and the rest of the week exhausted. So... not much blogging for me. No hard feelings, amirite?
As for the result of wednesday...
Niqee Vossen & Kylian van Beem - Sideways
Six Minute Drive (supposedly) (Niqee Vossen on vocals, Daniel Tiggelovend on guitar, Sam Vossen on drums, Hoai-Linh Nguyen on bass, Kylian van Beem on guitar) - Kryptonite
I was pretty confident about that day, and I'm glad to see that that shows. I seem more confident on stage than before, and that really improves my stage presence. I still have a long way to go, but I actually like what I'm doing on stage now. The confidence originated from the things I was doing: A song I have played many times before (and could probably play blindfolded), and some pentatonic scale guitarwanking. Pretty sure I can do that.
As for the Thursday though, I wasn't that confident. It was my first time singing 'in public', and that was a bit of a thrill. About 4 months ago I would never have considered singing in public, but now there I was, on stage, with a microphone in front of my face... I decided to just make the best of it, and try to do my best.
Weirdly enough, the guy I really want to thank for this performance was the soundguy. Before the whole night, he quickly rushed into the dressing-room, stopping me and asking "Hey, you have an iPod on you, right?" "Uh, yeah." "Do you have good music on it?" "I'd like to think so." "Can I borrow it?" "Uh, sure."
So that was that. I walked into the hall a few minutes later, and heard some Steve Miller Band coming through the speakers. I was really digging the guy's picks from my iPod, and he seemed to be quite fond of the music as well. That was good enough, but the special thing happened during the 20-minute intermezzo. I really liked that our act was after this break, as we could take our time to set things up and mess around. So that's what we did, and that's when it happened. The guy was looking for songs we could play along to, and during that time of randomly jamming/singing/etc. to songs on stage, in front of quite a few people that were probably just confused, I got more and more comfortable with being on that stage. It was a tad awkward when he played Tenacious D's Kielbasa, but I guess that's the risk of someone browsing through my iPod. After this weird semi-jam my nerves were calmed, and I just had adrenaline running through my veins. Which resulted in this performance...
Eldridg Soetanto (Bass), Valdano Hoogwout (Drums), Kylian van Beem (Guitar & Vocals) - Castles Made of Sand
I know we missed out on a couple of days. And a theme.
Right, let's try it anyway.
I was thinking of a subject and suddenly i recalled a small issue i had been pondering over a while ago, the question being: what is wisdom, and more elaborately, when do we consider someone to be wise?
It simply popped up again because nowadays we've got all these blogs and tweets and other platforms for people to cough up their respectable opinion, and most importantly, it seems as if people enter some state of solipsism as soon as they start an argument on the internet. Everyone's right nowadays. On top of that, they usually also know what's best for someone else. And topping that off comes the fact (read: assumption) that we have seen through most life's lessons and meanings.
By saying all this you could easily consider me a hypocrite, which i probably am at this point. But someone has to cast the first stone, right. So, let's discuss shall we?
I have a couple of WTF moments in my life. Some are a bit more dark and stupid than others but I'll just list a few.
-The night I met this really hot American guy and he started kissing me out of nowhere.
-The day my first 'real' boyfriend asked me to go to the beach with him.
-The day my first 'real' boyfriend broke up with me.
-The day my former boss asked me to work in his store whilst I was shopping there.
-The day I saw my very very hot colleague.
-The day I realised how much I had missed my best friend.
-The day I heard I passed my end-terms after being totally convinced that I failed.
-The day I started crying that I had to leave my friends for England.
And the best WTF moment of my life was when I went out with some friends and we met a couple of English people. It was the first week here and every single person I met had commented on my accent with different variations of "are you American?".
This girl came up to us, to ask for a lighter. I said "No I'm sorry, but I'm sure he has one". She was silent for about a minute and looked at me blinking furiously. After it was REALLY awkward and I wanted to turn around she held me by my shoulder and asked; "Are you Canadian?"
Well... remembering a significant wtf-moment is harder than I thought. Sure, I can think of a few small moments that happen more than once, like a guitar string snapping, or when some random guy suckerpunches me in my gut when walking through the corridors. Yet, these moments seem small and meaningless.
I will try and give you two of my memories, where my thoughts, as well as my facial expression screamed "WTF!". I'll start with the time I just received the news that I was being held back a year. It wasn't so much the news itself that shocked me. It was the fact that my mentor called me on my cellphone one afternoon, making sure that I knew that the decision was unanimous and that nobody had a valid argument for letting me pass the year, even though I had enough points to compensate for the insufficient marks. Anyway, that's life =)
I'm glad to say that my second memory is more pleasant, because it wasn't just 'my' moment. I was in England recently with a classmate, where we were working in a kitchen for a week. The moment wasn't in the kitchen though. We were in the supermarket next to it. We wanted to get some alcohol. At the time, my classmate wasn't eighteen yet, but he figured that they'd look at his card, see that he was born in 1992 and assume he was old enough. Instead, they took one look at his identity card and denied us, because "This Dutch identity card is not a valid license to use in the European Union" (WTF!?). We tried to rationally explain that the Netherlands was one of the founders of the European Union. Still, they refused. They said that a drivers license would be accepted though. He showed his drivers license (which he has because he rides a scooter) and still they refused, saying that we wouldn't get anything because "We had shown an invalid identity license earlier" (2xWTF!?).
Decide for yourself if these moments are strange or not. All I know is, my mind was officially fucked.
Nine eyes ablaze.
doodling upon rooftops
springs the frail image to mind
of a goldenhairgirl
within sixty seconds the sky smears a stream of succumbing scuz over the soothing soil where i stand
and rest.
They weep for the speeding horses
sweeping their way past
wishful thought thinkers;
to saddle up for the ride of your lives and escape
from alba-très
how the aged dusty pillars come closing in
on the corny salesman
death of^ him
as withered william once wrote
Sorry for the late post, economics kept me quite occupied yesterday. :)
And Kylian, even if radio is 'dead', it's still an awesome WTF-moment. congratulations and good luck!
Alright,.. so.. this weeks theme is "WTF-moments". quite nice. My wtf-moments always come, surprisingly, as a surprise. they shock me for a second before I'm able to move on with my life. yes, I guess I'm kind of a weird person, but that doesn't really bug me.
I've been surprised quite often. sometimes in a good way, but mostly with stuff no one ever wants to experience. and the most awful thing is, is that once one thing goes wrong, soon everything else will follow. at least that's how it works in my life. though I'd like to keep this blog a 'happy' place, so I won't ramble on about my shitty wtf-moments, even though Daniel thinks my entries are too shallow. :)
anyways, I hoped I'd remember my latest wtf-moment while writing all that baloney... but unfortunately, that dreams didn't get realized.,.. I do like the word tbh.. baloney.. I actually think it's a type of meat or something....
Sorry folks, I guess the greatest WTF/questionmark in my life is MYSELF. :)
Yeah, as I didn't hear from Hannah in a while, nor have we received any message about this week's theme, I figured I'd make one up myself. I'm going to go with WTF-moments, those odd things in life that just catch you off guard! They can be great, plain cruel, or even inbetween... Share your weird moments with us!
As for my WTF-moment... That one actually happened yesterday.
It was about 22:50 and the usual thing had happened: My mom started yelling "HEY YOU SHOULD GO TO BED!", which always results in me yelling back the o-so-civilized response "YEAH!". After about 5 minutes I go downstairs, brush my teeth, wish my mom a good night, head back upstairs, turn off the lights and continue what I was doing, sitting behind at the computer, randomly browsing the web. I usually do this for about half an hour, then finally go to bed...
This time, however, it was different. I had turned off the lights, and went over to the computer. I noticed a flashing sign at the bottom right of my browser. It was the facebook chat, and a woman I had met there quite a while ago was talking to me. I quickly said hello, not sure what to expect of the conversation. We had a simple conversation, including the whole "How are you doing?" "Fine!" charade, but she finally said she had a suprise for me. Once again, I didn't know what to expect, but she told me she had talked to one of her friends, a DJ at a Belgian FM radiostation I had never heard of (eh, I'm not belgian, now am I?)... And he was willing to play some of my music.
I have to say this was a total WTF-moment, didn't see this coming whatsoever. Problem is though... Apparently the guy needs to have it before Friday next week, and I still need to write this music. So that's what I'm working on right now, and I reckon this could be a pretty big opportunity... Even if there are only 5 people listening, it'll look good when I finally audition for the Rockacadamy Tilburg.
"You've already been on the radio! Woah, we should totally get this guy to attend our school!"
...That's what will happen, right?
According to the Buggles though, all of this is unnecessary; Radio's dead...
Before I begin, I would like to mention that my knowledge over musical techniques, background, etc. is very limited. Therefore, I have (nearly) nothing intellectual to add to this discussion.
First, I’d like to explain what I personally define as classical and popular music. When people mention classical music, my mind immediately brings me to an image of piano’s, violins and several flutes (very close-minded, I’m sure). Even though there is a lot of technique and brilliance needed to create this sort of music, I myself experience it with a certain indifference that comes from a lack of interest in how it was composed.
Popular music is hard to define for me. It all depends on the audience at the time. These days, I can see that technology is more often used in music, with auto-tuned singing and electronic beats serving as my examples. Because of this, DJ’s are starting to become more and more popular. I have to admit that I do listen to some of this music. I like most of the songs made by T-pain, but that’s mostly because I think his lyrics are funny. I can also listen to songs with electronic beats, provided that the lyrics aren’t too meaningless and mainstream.
I’ll use three hip hop songs (the style I mainly listen to) as my examples.
The first is ‘Pass Out’ by Tinie Tempah. This popular type of hip hop uses more special effects and less musical techniques than in the past. I do not like listening to this song, as it has little meaning attached to it.
My second example is the song ‘You Got Me’ by Erykah Badu and a famous band called The Roots. Don’t get me wrong, I know their music isn’t classical music, but I do like to think of it that way, because they have been performing for a long while now, and they still use instruments in their music. I usually just call it classical hip hop to make it easier for myself. To be honest, I don't listen to them very often, but I do appreciate them more.
My last example is ‘Just to get by’ by Talib Kweli, a pretty well known rapper from New York. This doesn’t have much to do with the rest, but I just wanted to give you the best example of what my kind of music is. These lyrics contain substance and I actually enjoy listening to him, which is more than I can say about classical or popular music.
I realise that most of you don’t like this kind of music, so I won’t be appalled if anybody decides not to listen to the songs. Also, after reading this myself, I'm gonna have to admit that it doesn't really contribute any substance to the discussion. I still liked writing it though.
Hm our theme is quite the pickletickler. I'm going to assume a twosome of extreme standpoints on this one. It's not exactly my opinion, because i try to avoid the black and white scale that the following statements exhibit.
One: classically trained musicians are very often elitists, two: they're correct.
The first statement is greatly based on personal experience and therefore probably false. It is however a nice extension to the next statement so i'll attend to it anyway. A lot of classical musicians that i've met (which is a substantial amount, although not even nearly enough to base a valid statistical assumption on) have often displayed a kind of happen-to-be-superior-becauseoftheirknowledgeandexperience-esque behaviour. This frequently leads to annoyance and antipathy from other musicians. Which is understandable. Because, well, it's rather fucking stupid to have someone else tell you that your favourite music actually truly genuinely sucks ballses.
But now on to the more intriguing and debatable issue at hand. These elitist snobs are in fact not far from the truth. I do need to mention that i try to look at this objectively; emotional values regarding music tucked away that is, because emotionally, Dolly Parton can sit at higher heights than Chopin (please note the word can).
Looking at classical music from a musician's, or writer's (composer's) pov, one should namely say that it's probably the most sophisticated music around. I don't want to engulf this place in technical terms and comparisons, but the amount of possibilities and requirements that a composer needs to reconsider while writing a piece is ridiculous. Plus the fact that you could be writing more than twenty different parts, for different instruments with different keys and different registers, which on its turn triggers all the laws on harmony and movement and god knows whatnot.
I can now happily conclude that music's technicality is nice and all, but it's all about the enjoyment factor. You go Parton. Please discuss, otherwise this blog's purpose is rather..erhm..not its purpose...
Every now and then I find myself injecting the word 'music' into sentences that weren't even related to any musical endeavor whatsoever (I like the alliteration on the last 2 words there). That left me with "Classical music vs. Popular music", but I still wasn't satisfied. Going for a more peaceful approach, I decided "Classical music & Popular music combined" was going to work for me.
When I ask people of my age group, most of them do not like classical music whatsoever. Even people not that interested in music usually say "Oh, I like all kinds of music... Except for Country and Classical, of course.". I, in my everlasting superiority, consider the majority (this means "not all of them", bare that in mind please) of my age group doomed for all eternity, so I'll look back to 'older music', as well as more alternative blends of classical and modern music. I'll define classical as orchestral music for now, as that just makes things less complicated. I obviously understand and hear that it's not the same, but most people wouldn't know the difference.
A good example of one of the earliest combinations of orchestral music and 'popular' music (apart from jazz) would be The Beatles' Eleanor Rigby, an absolutely brilliant, albeit a bit overused, song.
For those who are not too familiar with the song, just listen to it. Sit back and enjoy, don't over-analyze it, and just soak up the music. The only difference between this and other Beatles-music is that they traded in their usual guitar-bass-drum sound for something way more intricate, complex; something with more melodic possibilities.
If you've listened to the song as a whole, you've probably mainly listened to the vocals. That's not a bad thing, it's a brilliant song like that. But if you pay attention to the strings in the back, this song's perhaps even more beautiful without the lyrics. Even if you're not that keen on the sound (which I wouldn't understand, but hey, tastes differ), just try to think about the sounds anyways. You should be able to understand that this 'classical' way of making music has more layers, more possibilities, for one simple reason: it has many different instruments doing many different parts.
In the late 1960's a band known as "The English guys with the big fiddles" started to perform. They continued taking rock music in the direction "that the Beatles had left them", this meaning that they used violins, cellos, horns, woodwinds and string basses, to give the music a more classical sound. This band was called the Electric Light Orchestra, a name which I can only imagine scared a lot of pop/rock listeners at that time.
"An Orchestra? Sorry, but I like all kinds of music, except for country and classical!"
This truly was brilliant music, which, using modern instruments as well as these dusty classical instruments, plus some great vocal harmonies, produced a sound that I can only describe as epic. And I'm obviously right, because even brilliant, creative and talented artists like The Pussycat Dolls sampled ELO! (Just see if you recognize the part @2:39)
After this the world of progressive rock evolved, sprouting artists such as Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band, Frank Zappa, Jethro Tull, Genesis, Yes, Pink Floyd, Emerson, Lake & Palmer and many more.
Continuing towards the present, there were also many people who simply raped classical music. In the 80's, many rock artists implemented pieces of classical music in theirs, just to look distinguished and cultured. This was brilliantly caricatured in the 1984 mockumentary "This is Spinal Tap", as you can see below.
I may be skipping some other uses here, but the next big stop for me would be progressive metal. Oh yes, the big, evil world of metal, where everybody's a screaming lunatic that only enjoys the loud pounding of guitars. Screw melody, screw lyrics!
Sorry, it's just not that simple. As the almighty Wikipedia defines it:
"Progressive metal (sometimes known as prog metal) is a subgenre of heavy metal, which blends the powerful, guitar-driven sound of metal with the complex compositional structures, odd time signatures, and intricate instrumental playing of progressive rock."
I'll be the last one to say that I'm an expert on the field of progressive metal, as that requires a lot more of theoretical knowledge of music, but I do know what pleases my ear. Some of this progressive stuff can indeed be a bit tóó progressive for my tastes. But the prime example of beautiful progressive metal to me is Dream Theater. Using a simple setup of Guitar, Bass, Keyboards and Drums they are able to produce giant, heroic pieces of music in which you can clearly hear classical influences.
As for people that take the appreciation of classical music way too far in my opinion, I can simply name the genre neo-classical metal. Using Yngwie J Malmsteen, an incredibly talented guitarist, don't get me wrong, as a prime example. All of this music is based around the classical scales, often even 'stealing' parts of classical pieces, it could've been incredibly beautiful... Too bad that it just evolved into one big see-how-fast-I-can-shred fest.
I guess that was it for this time. I'm sorry for overusing the 'embed youtube' code, but when we're dealing with music, it's just essential for the reader to actually... Hear what the hell I'm talking about.
Day stealing is fine, since I'm writing this form another time-zone and seems like all my Saturday evenings softly float into early Sunday mornings.
Zosha was talking about her 'friend' and I am familiar with that girl as she used to scare the crap out of me as well. Ghost stories are essential in every society whether its that the monsters will come and get you if you don't finish your dinner or that some kind of fairy will collect teeth from under your pillow. Bull**** stories like this are being spread everyday by different classes in different societies in a different language. But basically the same stories.
I don't think that there are ghosts or spirits dwelling these plains to either scare the crap out of us, or keep watch of us. Is this ignorance? But hey, I don't believe there is a god either, yet I learned how to find strength in praying form time to time. Is paranormal activity just activity that's unexplainable? Or is it what we don't dare to explain?
Moving hairbrushes, falling mirrors, sensations of wind and sudden colds; I don't believe in it any more, maybe plainly because I am, truly truly terrified of anything that I can't wrap my mind about. That's why I can be afraid of falling in love or things I don't have any input in.
To be short, Ghosts and God are so not my cup of tea, but I'm not denying their existence. I just rather have them not being real.
Introducing next weeks theme: Classical vs. Popular.
(so sorry about the delay guys... guess the timezone excuse doesn't work at this point?)
Do I believe that paranormal things happen around us? The answer is quite simple: yes I do. I was brought up to believe in god and I choose to keep that faith, even though there is no evidence of him existing. Furthermore, I believe that every person has a guardian angel looking out for them and that the spirits of dead people continue to exist in the afterlife.
As Joram has stated in his post, people often choose to have faith, because it provides a brighter prospect for the human being after death. I strongly agree with this view. However, I have a few things to add.
The reason I believe in God is not just because I want to get into heaven, but also because it gives me a reason to be a good person in life (sort of). Even though I realise that wars and deaths are results of people having too much faith in their religion, I also see the positive side. The ten commandments have set clear moral rules, and the thought of being punished by God keeps a lot of people on the right path.
My guardian angel functions as my conscious. It prevents from doing what I know is wrong (usually) and it guards me from making stupid errors. Each time I nearly get hit by a vehicle, but manage to see it (just) on time, I feel that it was my guardian angel who alerted me. This can be rationalised as ‘reason’ or ‘reflex’, but again, it is my choice to believe in this protective spirit.
The afterlife is merely my motivation for living. I don’t want my life to end in ‘nothingness’. I want to have a reason to get out of bed and to be a productive person. For me, that reason is the thought of getting to a better place after you die, providing that you work hard and live decently. Some people say that life itself should be the reason, but the things I like doing in life aren’t productive at all. If I didn’t have faith in the afterlife, I would be lying in bed all day, enjoying the hell out of my current life, knowing that I wouldn’t be punished for it.
This entry has been mostly about religious beliefs, rather than general paranormal activity. That’s because I simply don’t believe in ghosts and stuff. They don’t give me any motivation to live good, and therefore they’re useless to me. As a result, I choose not to believe in them.
Btw, my apologies to Hannah, for stealing her day.
I wanted to wrap this up nicely, you know with the habitual introduction-body-conclusion. But i couldn't possibly come up with an original package for this content. So i'll just drop the bombshell right away: i don't believe in the supernatural paranormal ghost god things, or, in more refined words, i put my question marks behind the notion of spirits and ghosts.
It's not even because i consider the idea of such phenomena ridiculous, but rather because i believe in something else. I think that our faith in after-life things originates in our deeply-rooted longing for eternal life. Well i do have considered the issue that your entire being ends in death, which is not really a jolly prospect. And any kind of heaven (or even hell for that matter) would guarantee the persistence of your "soul". Really, which option would you choose?
The proposition of evidence is happening similar to the Beatles controversy, with McCartney presumably being dead and people tending to strongly belief something first before they start gathering potential evidence (which is basically invariably ambiguous). They cling onto every strand of proof that they manage to find, even when it's dubious as fuck.
Well i just don't know. Usage of fancy words often implies that. I gladly invite you to discuss this issue, because it might be nice to do that. On the other hand, i really don't think the concept of "belief" is debatable at all.
So, "paranormal things" uh? makes me think of the movie, paranormal activities..? bad movie, baaaaad! two hours of my life I'll never see again..
but now for real, paranormal things.. can be interesting sometimes.. we all have different opinions about whether they exist or not.. I somehow believe they do. I'm not saying I'm into the whole "spiritual guiding" and stuff, it's just that I think that there's more out there than we know of.
- and yes, I also believe that because I happen to like the idea.
though besides my "enthusiasm" towards paranormal things, there's also a down part. (isn't there always?) Back in the days, around the age of 6/7 I had a best friend. and she was rather interested in "paranormal" stuff. she always want to call spirits, and she always tried to scare the holy crap outta me. Like telling me there was this creepy 'ghostman' standing right behind me, or telling me not to go to sleep because there was this certain spirit who was angry with me, and if I'd fall asleep he'd kill me.
...
can't go wrong with a true friend... right?
but yeah, sorry for sharing my greatest childhood memory with you guys!
I dunno, apparently there's something about you that makes me speak candidly about my past... perhaps something supernatural?
I guess we'll never find out... :)
Well, this week's theme seems to be 'Paranormal Things'... Not really an easy subject, if you ask me, but I guess it'll have to do. I'm not that paranormal, but apart from the so-called ghostly encounters every kid seems to have, which are just caused by a wild imagination, I've got one that actually felt true.
It was a chilly saturdaymorning, around 11 AM, as I woke up. I noticed that it was quite cold in my room. This wasn't the annoying kind of cold though, it was actually refreshing. As I always do, I just laid there staring off into nothingness, while not thinking about anything in particular; just enjoying the free morning. I glanced over to my left, and there was this toy I had gotten a long time ago. It was a model of a crane, with a hook on a string hanging from the 'arm'. As I glanced over, I noticed that the hook started to move. It kept on swinging back and forth, as if it were pushed by someone. Quite obviously, there was noone in my room. The hook didn't seem to mind though, and just kept on swinging. The thought of my deceased grandpa suddenly entered my thoughts, and it didn't scare me whatsoever. I just laid there, looking at the crane in utter comfort and curiously examined the movement... After a few minutes of swinging it stopped, and I got out of bed, quite thrilled by this 'afterworldly message'.
Was it actually a SPIRIT, or just some weird kind of draught? Ah well, guess I'll never know.
As for a related video... (Which I think I have posted on my own blog before, but meh)
Saturday. The most wonderous days of days. It can be a work day, or a weekend day. It can be a rest day, a church day, a party day and even a hey-I-get-to-see-the-kids-today-day. Saturday is dependable (there is no week without a Saturday) and even a bit silly (no logical explanation for that one). Saturday can be relaxing or very wild. Saturday is a time for long talks with your best friend as you fall asleep after that first school dance that lasted till one. Saturday can be a day when you wake up hungover, next to your boyfriend after that first party with vodka. Saturday can be as magical as your 17th birthday and as gloom as your first funeral. Saturday is filled with dreams, hope and expectations. Not unlike me.
Defining yourself is one of the hardest thing to do, and naturally people stress about their flaws rather than the good things. I'm writing this as my Norwegian friend Sofie is sitting on the bed next to me, asking her what my best quality is resulted in: "I think you are really outgoing and good at making thousands of friends. You are really easy to talk to." I like to think that I am trustworthy, nice and good company. I am very aware of my (many) flaws. I can be needy, arrogant and mean. My insecure-ness drives people insane and I'm trying to be as less ignorant as I can, but you know, sometimes even I can't help it. All I want in live is make people around me happy.
Choosing to go from Tuesday to Saturday, instead of Monday to Friday, was a decision that had to be made because of important events. But most of all, this choice seems a bit unconventional, just like us.
We are definitely not the happiest bunch out here in the blogosphere, but I think we all compliment each other by being our unique and amazing self. These people are all people I cared about, the minute I got to know them, if it was 10 years ago or the year before my graduation, these people are people I respect and love.
Introducing next week random theme by Norwegian Sofie: PARANORMAL THINGS
First of all, I want to thank everybody else who contributes to this blog, for inviting me, the ‘new guy’, to occasionally share thoughts on this page as well. I’m glad that my friends think that I am capable of producing material that is interesting enough to share with them. As most people do, I love feeling appreciated.
My name is Daniel. My hobby’s are playing my guitar, listening to music and, recently added, writing. As Kylian mentioned in his post, I am relatively new to the world of ‘blogging’ and I am especially new in this field.
In my own blog, I post excerpts from my personal diary, which I was eventually willing to share with others. I try to give as much thought to questions about my personal life. This makes my blog very self-centred, but what do you expect from a diary. What this collaborative blog enables for me, is the opportunity to write about something other than myself. I can’t predict how I will perform, but I am grateful for the chance.
I started writing because I noticed that even though my life is extremely simple, I am still a very confused individual (just like every other teenager). Putting my thoughts on paper really helps me form a clear opinion about myself, and it helps me figure out my ambitions (which has led me to consider studying psychology in the future).
What I hope to gather from this experience, is the skill of forming opinions, and forming arguments to support these opinions. Also, I would like to be able to write in an less formal manner, without resorting to ‘slang’. My language has been strongly influenced by my English classes (taught by an uptight woman), and I feel that it is starting to get in the way of my individuality. The way I speak doesn't even remotely resemble the way I write. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I feel it should change.
Well, that should cover my introduction. Once again, thanks to all of you!
I honestly don't know what i ought to put up here.
I'm Joram, i study musicology. I like music as well, i frequently make attempts to play electric guitar and saxophone. I don't love my guitar, i love playing it and really like the thing itself to some degree, but it's not as if i'd give up playing or writing if my guitar got stolen; i guess it's replaceable, so to speak.
At this particular moment i'm listening to Da Funk/Daftendirekt by Daft Punk, from their live album Alive 2007, which is really good in my opinion. And i just discovered that pressing ctrl+3 gives you a mini-screen in windows media player which stays on the foreground at all times, very convenient innit?
My own blog is a place where i dump any ideas that might pop up for stories, and it's the occasional spot to shamelessly promote my own views. On certain issues. I like to belief that i've developed a bit of an idiosyncratic personal writing style, but then again i'm in all likelihood not literate enough to be able to say that.
I went through a number of years that involved a lot of teenage angst and the conviction that, given the "circumstances" i was under, i had all the right to be depressed and/or sad. Until about a year ago, when i started to belief happiness wasn't really something that you acquire or "get" through something or someone, but more that it's a very balanced state of mind that wants to be happy in the first place. Now that i look back on it, i do realise that it was rather pathetic to be sad and complaining, but not really wanting to change the situation.
Well our good friend Kylian introduced himself in carefully selected words, and let me say; he did that quite well. *ohh and thanks for the sweet words btw, kudos for you :)* So I will actually steal his idea by "answering" his question.
Who am I?
Oh, how I wish I knew. :) this question probably haunts most of us, as we're all teenagers trying to figure out what life's all about and what we're 'destined' to do. but if I interprete it differently, in a much, much, much less profound way, I end up with the idea of telling you what keeps me busy.
My name is Zosha Winkels, and I write a blog about the minor and major things in life called "the way we roll". I really wouldn't know how to define my entries, I basically start writing about whatever occurs to me. Sometimes I share my opinion, other times it's just a messy verbiage about nothing...
I have multiple interests. Music is like a drug to me and I love my music magazine for always giving me great tips on new, unknown bands. But... there's more!
My awesome boyfriend for instance, who stole my heart over a year ago. I guess it's not that interesting, but I have to mention him, because he's like the most important thing in my life. I know that sounds so pathetic and desperate, but it's actually true. We managed to survive through everything.. like not seeing each other for half a year because he went to canada... and that's just a for instance! currently we're in a long distance relationship, which is very inconvenient. And I know that there are lots of people who don't have faith in us, but it's the love that keeps us going!
furthermore I could tell you something about my family situation, but I won't. And trust me, you don't even want me to. It's a complicated, fucked up and frustrating situation and it'd take me years to explain it to you. So I won't.
And that means I have nothing else I could possibly tell you in order for you to "get to know me". Which brings me to my final words; if you have any questions, just ask me! or... read my blog!
*just so you know, I'm not advertising, it's frankly just a subtle and smooth suggestion.. :)*
Let me start by saying: Welcome to all! The grand opening of this blog is upon us, and I'm quite thrilled. I've got to say that a collective effort like this is new to me, and I'm happy to be able to reach a bigger audience for my writings as well. So goodday to friends of my cowriters! ... Oh, and hello to my own 'regulars' as well. I'm not entirely sure what will become of this blog, but I guess we'll find out soon enough.
I'll briefly 'introduce' my cowriters, so it's time for some praise!
First of all, we've got Hannah. Hannah came up with the idea of this whole "writing stuff together" endeavour. The idea wasn't clearly defined, and it still isn't, but it's still a 'rad' idea. I guess I'd describe her as warm, helpful and every now and then a tad random.
We've also got Zosha, whose blog adresses dishonesty and other values a lot, which is something I'm also very keen on. She's perhaps a tad shy when you meet her at first, but once you get to know her, once again a very warm, nice and good person.
Joram's blog is one I've enjoyed reading a lot. His musical endeavours and tastes are quite interesting, as is his blog. He writes some great haunting, thrilling and sometimes even a bit silly short stories, which I just love reading. I also figured it was interesting how his blogs' color scheme is pretty much the complete opposite of mine. Opposites attract, amirite?
The last person on the list is Daniel. He's quite new to the whole blogging thing, but that doesn't show. His blog has mainly been about his insecurities (about his future/ambitions/etc.) so far, something that's very recognizable to me. Now that I think of it, it often scares me how much we think alike.
And me?
My name is Kylian van Beem, and I'm the "author" of the blog Who's that writin'?. My ramblings may be defined as obsessive and pessimistic, but I wouldn't have it any other way. My main interest is music, but what kind of music is hard to describe. On my own blog I've tried to show people by posting a youtube video at the end of pretty much every post (I'm pretty sure only about 5 % of the readers actually listened to those songs, but... ah well.). I reckon I'll continue doing that over here as well. I'm not only on the 'receiving' end of music though, I also enjoy playing the electric/acoustic guitar, bassguitar and even a bit of keyboard (Keep in my mind that 'playing the keyboard' mainly means learning a song, and forgetting about it the next day though). My main instrument is still the guitar... Well, that's actually my main thing in my life. I have to say I'd rather lose my house than my guitar right now.
If you'd like to know more about me, I'd like to invite you to read my blog (Especially the first 2 september posts, those described me pretty well). If you're too lazy to do that, and still want to know a bit more about me... Here are some (key)words I'd use to describe myself:
Musician Pessimist Socialist Mister know-it-all Ignorant fuck Moralist Destined-to-be-a-hobo Lazy Passionate Literate Obsessed Lonely Seeker of Love Hippy Grammar Nazi Guitarist Harsh
If it's not clear to my cowriters yet, I figured this week would act as an "introduction-week".
