Video Find of the Day
Once again I was not looking for what I found here. The Karl Denver video in the Wimoweh Times 7 post below (Aug. 3) whet my appetite for 60s go-go dancers with beehive hairdos and boots up to their thighs. I eventually found some and I'm sorting through it all to see if I like any of it, but in the meantime the YouTube search engine somehow turned go-go into freestyle and freestyle into robot. Well, that's OK, after all, we've had several occasions to talk about robots lately, why not see some robot dancing.
The context isn't really explained here but it looks like a high school dance off in the gym. I'm guessing the guys are professional dancers or teachers. They look too old to be in school with those girls. Which might make it a dance-off exhibition?
robotic freestyle Dance off
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Body Art
OK. The model here is reputed to be a guy. I don't care. I'm in love with her/his artist. Having seen what he/she has done with her/his right breast, I want to have his/her baby. The use of the Flight of the Bumblebee in this video is brilliant, so I am in love with whomever thought of that, too, maybe not that much.
Body Paint in Photo Fair - Bangkok THAILAND
Body Paint in Photo Fair - Bangkok THAILAND
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Sleeping Anima on a Bus
and Video Find of the Day
Yesterday I was riding a bus north on 3rd Avenue in Seattle toward the Real Change newspaper office sitting at one of the front seats that face sideways to the aisle. One stop before mine a woman who looked like she was in her 60s walked up the aisle to get off. My feet, which are not that big, were as far out of the way as they could be, but this woman still managed to kick into the toe of one of my shoes.
She looked down as if she couldn't believe that someone would put a log in her path. Then she followed up my leg and up my body with her eyes to my face.
As she saw my face, I expected an "excuse me" or an "oh, I didn't see your foot there" or at least a "your foot was in my way" for me to argue with. Instead of apologizing or giving me an argument she just stared at me as though I were a manikin.
Instinctively I felt the need to exhibit life. So I grinned at the woman and said, "Hello!" cheerfully.
She startled! She really hadn't been seeing me as animate! I've never seen that reaction before in anyone. How sad to be unable to see other people as alive. It's like one of those weird conditions Oliver Sacks would write about.
Most of us have a built-in function that automatically imbues other humans with powers of animation, so we expect life and we're surprised when we don't see it. Jung associated the function with the Anima archetype. The woman of our example has an Anima or she wouldn't have been startled, but her Anima had been sleeping, you could say. The function usually operates unconsciously in the background of our minds and souls so we don't notice it working. Hers wasn't operating unconsciously; it wasn't operating at all.
Which brings me to why I love bellydancing. It isn't so much as you might think, that I love looking at pretty women undulating. No, it's because when bellydancing is done well it sends that animation-recognizing function into overdrive, to where I can feel it taking hold of me. It makes that unconscious conscious.
Here's a beautifully styled bellydance by a woman named Sashi, which was posted on YouTube almost a year ago, but somehow I missed it until now. It's a perfect example of the kind of thing I'm talking about. You have your own Anima handed to you.
Sashi Gothic Tribal Fusion Bellydance
and another,
Yesterday I was riding a bus north on 3rd Avenue in Seattle toward the Real Change newspaper office sitting at one of the front seats that face sideways to the aisle. One stop before mine a woman who looked like she was in her 60s walked up the aisle to get off. My feet, which are not that big, were as far out of the way as they could be, but this woman still managed to kick into the toe of one of my shoes.
She looked down as if she couldn't believe that someone would put a log in her path. Then she followed up my leg and up my body with her eyes to my face.
As she saw my face, I expected an "excuse me" or an "oh, I didn't see your foot there" or at least a "your foot was in my way" for me to argue with. Instead of apologizing or giving me an argument she just stared at me as though I were a manikin.
Instinctively I felt the need to exhibit life. So I grinned at the woman and said, "Hello!" cheerfully.
She startled! She really hadn't been seeing me as animate! I've never seen that reaction before in anyone. How sad to be unable to see other people as alive. It's like one of those weird conditions Oliver Sacks would write about.
Most of us have a built-in function that automatically imbues other humans with powers of animation, so we expect life and we're surprised when we don't see it. Jung associated the function with the Anima archetype. The woman of our example has an Anima or she wouldn't have been startled, but her Anima had been sleeping, you could say. The function usually operates unconsciously in the background of our minds and souls so we don't notice it working. Hers wasn't operating unconsciously; it wasn't operating at all.
Which brings me to why I love bellydancing. It isn't so much as you might think, that I love looking at pretty women undulating. No, it's because when bellydancing is done well it sends that animation-recognizing function into overdrive, to where I can feel it taking hold of me. It makes that unconscious conscious.
Here's a beautifully styled bellydance by a woman named Sashi, which was posted on YouTube almost a year ago, but somehow I missed it until now. It's a perfect example of the kind of thing I'm talking about. You have your own Anima handed to you.
Sashi Gothic Tribal Fusion Bellydance
and another,
Friday, August 3, 2007
Wimoweh Times 7
Video Find(s) of the Day
Some songs can cross one border and fall flat. Other songs are fantastic no matter where they go and who sings them. Wimoweh, or Mbube, or the Lion Sleeps Tonight, is one of the latter. It is now generally accepted that it started as Mbube, by Solomon Linda, who was South African Zulu. Here's a video posted by jhed13 of a 30 second excerpt of that.
Solomon Linda, 30 seconds of the original Mbube.
Wimoweh was popularized by a number of American and European singers. Pete Seeger came up with the name Wimoweh from mishearing the lyrics from a tape of the original. When Miriam Makeba performed it, she credited Solomon Linda.
Miriam Makeba -- Mbube
The Tokens did one of the most popular versions.
My favorite of the American versions has always been this one by the Kingston Trio,
although this beatbox version by kaleb simmonds is pretty cool:
The song gets so far away from South Africa, we have Karl Denver, a Scotsman, doing a Scots yodeling version, which is just as great as any other.
It's nice to be able to come back to South Africa with Lebo M's version. Lebo M (Lebo Morake) arranged and performed The Lion Sleeps Tonight for Disney's "Lion King."
Some songs can cross one border and fall flat. Other songs are fantastic no matter where they go and who sings them. Wimoweh, or Mbube, or the Lion Sleeps Tonight, is one of the latter. It is now generally accepted that it started as Mbube, by Solomon Linda, who was South African Zulu. Here's a video posted by jhed13 of a 30 second excerpt of that.
Solomon Linda, 30 seconds of the original Mbube.
Wimoweh was popularized by a number of American and European singers. Pete Seeger came up with the name Wimoweh from mishearing the lyrics from a tape of the original. When Miriam Makeba performed it, she credited Solomon Linda.
Miriam Makeba -- Mbube
The Tokens did one of the most popular versions.
My favorite of the American versions has always been this one by the Kingston Trio,
although this beatbox version by kaleb simmonds is pretty cool:
The song gets so far away from South Africa, we have Karl Denver, a Scotsman, doing a Scots yodeling version, which is just as great as any other.
It's nice to be able to come back to South Africa with Lebo M's version. Lebo M (Lebo Morake) arranged and performed The Lion Sleeps Tonight for Disney's "Lion King."
Holy Technorati, Week 19
The Technorati arc has ended!
Unbelievably, Technorati has finally updated my blogs. Not only that, their ranks have been unhinged from each other, so they are now plausible. Instead of them being listed as having identical ranks on the order of ten million, this blog, Run Off, is down around 700,000, and Adventures in Bloggery is in the million and a half range. Woo-woo, I am 5 times more popular than someone you never heard of!
In a way, I'm disappointed. I had thought I could do Technorati Sucks until death. Now I have to find other things that suck to pick at.
Coming soon: Everything I can't stand about MySpace, beginning with Friend Requests from sluttyforyou with messages like "See the picture of my hot bod? Come see more of me at me_and_my_horny_girlfriends.com."
[Note to slutforyou: That's a nice bod, but it's not hot. Hot is when I care.]
I will have many more complaints about MySpace in a couple of days when I've finished fixing my site. I've decided recently that since it's there (Anitra created the account a year ago against my will) I might as well play with it. But what I am finding is that playing with MySpace is like playing catch with a monkey and a rock, with the monkey being the "ball."
Unbelievably, Technorati has finally updated my blogs. Not only that, their ranks have been unhinged from each other, so they are now plausible. Instead of them being listed as having identical ranks on the order of ten million, this blog, Run Off, is down around 700,000, and Adventures in Bloggery is in the million and a half range. Woo-woo, I am 5 times more popular than someone you never heard of!
In a way, I'm disappointed. I had thought I could do Technorati Sucks until death. Now I have to find other things that suck to pick at.
Coming soon: Everything I can't stand about MySpace, beginning with Friend Requests from sluttyforyou with messages like "See the picture of my hot bod? Come see more of me at me_and_my_horny_girlfriends.com."
[Note to slutforyou: That's a nice bod, but it's not hot. Hot is when I care.]
I will have many more complaints about MySpace in a couple of days when I've finished fixing my site. I've decided recently that since it's there (Anitra created the account a year ago against my will) I might as well play with it. But what I am finding is that playing with MySpace is like playing catch with a monkey and a rock, with the monkey being the "ball."
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Evil
Video Find of the Day
Howlin' Wolf, whom I can never be as cool as, discusses the prevalence of evil in our society today. (OK, not today, 1970.) He says it's caused by conditions. That was what I was going to say, too. It's all those conditions. If it weren't for conditions I wouldn't be where I am today: Praying my housing doesn't get defunded, that the big earthquake waits until I've died painlessly in my sleep of extremely advanced old age, that George Bush's plan to use his emergency powers to round me up doesn't get implemented because he decides at the last minute to do his job, instead.
Howlin' Wolf, whom I can never be as cool as, discusses the prevalence of evil in our society today. (OK, not today, 1970.) He says it's caused by conditions. That was what I was going to say, too. It's all those conditions. If it weren't for conditions I wouldn't be where I am today: Praying my housing doesn't get defunded, that the big earthquake waits until I've died painlessly in my sleep of extremely advanced old age, that George Bush's plan to use his emergency powers to round me up doesn't get implemented because he decides at the last minute to do his job, instead.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Eine Schrecklich Nette Familie
Video Find of the Day
Here's another one of those things where I'm just rooting around for videos of cute puppies playing, and all of the sudden I find myself in the middle of a whole bunch of Married With Children clips. And I think, what was that clip that I liked so much? And I think, oh yes, it was the one where Kelly Bundy dances to You Give Me Fever. So I do a search on "kelly bundy dances" on YouTube and I get this. Only it isn't "Married With Children" exactly. It's "Eine Schrecklich Nette Familie." And it's even better! I LOVE it in German!
Here's another one of those things where I'm just rooting around for videos of cute puppies playing, and all of the sudden I find myself in the middle of a whole bunch of Married With Children clips. And I think, what was that clip that I liked so much? And I think, oh yes, it was the one where Kelly Bundy dances to You Give Me Fever. So I do a search on "kelly bundy dances" on YouTube and I get this. Only it isn't "Married With Children" exactly. It's "Eine Schrecklich Nette Familie." And it's even better! I LOVE it in German!
Incident at Niagara Falls
As we neared Massachusetts my Father found out that we had more time to reach Fort Devens than he had thought. Now, the story they told me was that when my parents married in '48 they planned a honeymoon, but the plans were dashed by his assignment to a S. Carolina training base. So now they had time "finally" to have a proper honeymoon, the idea was to detour to Niagara Falls.
They'd just spent 3 years in Hawaii! They had tons of free time! They toured the islands! They couldn't have called any of that honeymoon?
OK, no use arguing with the dead. So we detoured to Niagara Falls. The motel was singularly unimpressive. Having now traveled nearly 4,000 miles by car across the U.S., not quite 4, I was becoming a regular connoisseur of 50s motels, and the honeymoon motel was crap.
They took me with them for a walk down the paths along the cliffs to the falls. Here's a picture I found of the paths we're talking about. They're narrow, maybe 4 feet wide in places. At the time we were there the guard fence was not designed with small children in mind. It would have been extremely easy for me to slip under it and fall onto the rocks below.
My Mother noticed it. There happened to be no other tourists around us at one point, and she told him this was their chance. They could push me over and I'd die and they'd be done with me. No one could prove it wasn't an accident. "He's just a stupid kid. Stupid kids get themselves killed all the time."
My Father finally went ballistic at all the talk about finishing me off. He yelled, "I don't want to hear any more of that crap! I listened to you once! That's it! I'm never listening to you again!"
My Mother screamed back, "You're not the one who's going to have to take care of the freak for the rest of your life!"
He grabbed her by the shoulder and slapped her.
I backed away, then ran up the path the way we came, but I couldn't run fast with my little legs, and Dad caught me in two seconds.
My Mother walked about holding her face, glaring at me, as if it was all my fault.
They'd just spent 3 years in Hawaii! They had tons of free time! They toured the islands! They couldn't have called any of that honeymoon?
OK, no use arguing with the dead. So we detoured to Niagara Falls. The motel was singularly unimpressive. Having now traveled nearly 4,000 miles by car across the U.S., not quite 4, I was becoming a regular connoisseur of 50s motels, and the honeymoon motel was crap.
They took me with them for a walk down the paths along the cliffs to the falls. Here's a picture I found of the paths we're talking about. They're narrow, maybe 4 feet wide in places. At the time we were there the guard fence was not designed with small children in mind. It would have been extremely easy for me to slip under it and fall onto the rocks below.
My Mother noticed it. There happened to be no other tourists around us at one point, and she told him this was their chance. They could push me over and I'd die and they'd be done with me. No one could prove it wasn't an accident. "He's just a stupid kid. Stupid kids get themselves killed all the time."
My Father finally went ballistic at all the talk about finishing me off. He yelled, "I don't want to hear any more of that crap! I listened to you once! That's it! I'm never listening to you again!"
My Mother screamed back, "You're not the one who's going to have to take care of the freak for the rest of your life!"
He grabbed her by the shoulder and slapped her.
I backed away, then ran up the path the way we came, but I couldn't run fast with my little legs, and Dad caught me in two seconds.
My Mother walked about holding her face, glaring at me, as if it was all my fault.
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