On His Being Arrived to the Age of Twenty-three, J Milton

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stol’n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew’th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth
That I to manhood am arriv’d so near;
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits endu’th.
Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure ev’n
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leds me, and the will of Heav’n:
All is, if I have grace to use it so
As ever in my great Task-Master’s eye.

television binge

Since school's no longer a priority (hallelujah?), the folks here at butterfat have been checking in on cable television. Apparently, being out of the loop for several years now has put us behind; nevertheless, after logging in loads of hours in front of the tube, we're happy to report that it hasn't gotten much better (though most cable services now offer twice the amount of channels as they did a decade ago).

First of all, though, we l o v e Project Runway. Not sure what season this Bravo "reality" (what's so realistic about fashion designers competing for prizes anyway?) program is in (update: season 4), but the contestants for the current one are sassy, sophisticated and creative. Personally, we're pulling for Kevin, Rami and Kit. We despise Christian and feel that Sweet P's talent does not equal her fellow contestants. We were sad to see Elisa go, but let's be real, that dress this past week was hideous.

But the Bravo network, on the whole, is quite lame. They feed into the consumerist/materialist machine under the guise of "good taste" (that "omg huge expensive party show," this one) without adding much, if anything, to the culture at large.

In fact, even educational networks seem to be lagging. Sure, Discovery's been showing that History of the World series, and the History Channel still indulges in its WWII fetish, but even they have a fair amount of "oohhh look at me" garbage that was hitherto absent. Further, there are now several "home improvement diy" networks; we feel a little insulted and wish that someone would do something about this mis-appropriation.

As for the big networks (ABC, FOX et. al.), we're usually smoking blunts during primetime, and we don't watch soaps, so not much to say on that front. However, we still tune into syndicated episodes of Seinfeld, Malcolm in the Middle, etc. so not all's lost.

Overall, we've come to an agreement that our brains feel dead. For about two weeks now, we've been researching the phenomenon/lazing around, but now that time is over. It's been a gay-ol'-braindead time; we don't regret it necessarily, for we will be tuning in at 10ET/9CT on Wednesday next week for PR's new episode (hopefully Sweet P'll be voted off).

Lastly, we kind-of dig this one (cringe).

okay, now my thoughts

So, first, 2007, as far as popular music's concerned, was the year of M.I.A. This woman is a bona-fide artist, everyone, and we are lucky as hell to have her. Arular (2005) hinted at things to come, but was anyone really prepared for the hip-hop mindfuck that is Kala? I sure as hell wasn't. Further, though her quasi-activism streak is half-baked at best, she's nevertheless prompting music fans to question things like globalization, signification, allusion and (gasp!) even terrorism (the bit about AKs in "20 Dollar" or "Paper Planes"'s infectious hook).

But it was a good year for Americans too. Though they have plenty of hataz armed with (some) valid ammunition, 2007 was huge for the fellas in Animal Collective. And while Strawberry Jam is hardly as accomplished as their previous two, our boy Panda Bear released a strange little electro/sixties pop/sample heavy record titled Person Pitch. It's a beautiful achievement and indicative of Animal Collective's more tuneful tendencies (as evidenced in songs like "Winters Love," "The Purple Bottle" and "Chocolate Girl"). Additionally, both Spoon and of Montreal released well-into-their-career albums that are justifiably lauded (though I've hardly internalized the former). Bishop Allen revisited a lot of their EPs from last year and gave us the surprisingly cohesive and sophisticated & The Broken String while acts like St. Vincent, Ghostface Killah, Liars, the Arcade Fire (hey, Win's American!), Lupe Fiasco, Black Lips, Mary J, Dr. Dog and Joanna Newsom all added new gems to their respective catalogues. There were also plenty of fine top40/crunk singles, though none really stand out for me.

I didn't hear albums from Bloc Party, Wu-Tang Clan, Kanye West, Modest Mouse, Okkervil River or Band of Horses-- all acts which received plenty of press and positive reviews.

Also, Jens Lekman decided to finally release an LP of new shit. Though it's not as emotive as When I Wanted to Be Your Dog, Night Falls Over Kortedala is still both hilarious and heartbreaking, while bringing the age of sample-heavy tunes into the pop music mainstream (and yes, anyone's cock being sucked by p4k = mainstream).

Oh yeah, and Radiohead released a record; it's okay.

by the way,

the best write-up for 07 music that I've found so far--

enjoooy, happy holidays, yah yah

note(s) to self

the quietest, grayest
and most pensive time there is--
cinnamon, wind-brisked hair,
naked-tree nostrils
all swish leaves
and gaze on lilting breaths.

time to read, time to read!
time and time and times to
appreciate or mourn or fret--

but ah those
full lungs crystallize,
while swirls of pure
fluidity follow the eventual
and gradual deflation.

stark, massive, brittle woodposts
jut everywhere,the gray negative
space an endless exercise
in the futility of exercises.

and though thorns still
protect, a thick walk's
feasibility-- rejoice! carve
paths! plan a summer sojourn!
uproot privet and poison
ivy! smell the moist, dark earth
as one would a lover's sex.

Le Petit Prince

So I had the privilege of seeing a staged production of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's novella The Little Prince by the University of Memphis theater department.



Prior to the show, I'd read it twice (once in French). Since, I've remembered it as an extremely imaginative meditation on, among other things, love, childhood and creativity.

Well, I must commend our theater department, as the production expressed these themes vividly and poignantly. The set was a bit minimal; there were a few platforms, a screen for the sunset and innumerable paper-lanterns hanging from the ceiling of the entire theater. The "narrators" (who ended up adapting very well to the numerous small roles such as the fox or the businessman) had only these big rubber balls that were used for various purposes and flashlights.

The Little Prince himself was as whimsical and enthusiastic as the the one in Saint-Exupéry's text, and the Rose was stubborn yet delicate ("with only four thorns"), as was warranted. The Aviator (Saint-Exupéry himself in the book) was strong, convincing and a brilliant narrator.

The "best," as the kids call it, scenes for me: the Rose and The Little Prince's goodbye, the "taming" of the fox and TLP drinking water in the desert as a sort of "Ahhhh" moment.

Overall, the production was so beautiful, so sensitive, so (dare I say it?) perfect that I feel obligated to document it. Later, I spoke with a friend who's very involved with the theater department, and has been at school as long as I have (fall '03); he said, "I'm pretty sure this is the best thing we've ever done." So props to the actors and crew (assuming that someone involved with the production will come across this 'umble lil page). My one complaint: crying babies.

It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.