Sunday, April 26, 2009


Today was awesome. It included cooking, spending time with awesome friends, and watching a wonderful (albeit slightly pitchy in places) rendition of Gilbert and Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance.

I met someone today. He was an older gentleman, a friend's grandfather. We went to visit him in the hospital. Even in his weakened state, I could see the strength that typified his generation.
Of course, not all from among his number were so strong. Still, I found myself comparing my generation to his, and finding ours lacking.

We're soft, used to all our petty comforts: our TVs, comfy couches, and milk that comes carefully prepackaged so we don't remember how it got there. Sometimes I tell myself that it would be nice to leave civilization for a while, just for the challenge. Think about it! Foraging, hunting, living simply...I'm starting to think the Amish had the right idea.

I exaggerate of course, but only slightly.

I don't really know what it takes to be that strong. Probably another World War or a major hardship like the Great Depression, unfortunate as either may sound. In any case, if I were to attain only half of the discipline, fortitude, and self-sacrifice owned by the man on that hospital bed, I would count myself more than fortunate.

Writing these words, I sink back down into the cush of my armchair, shaking my head at the world's sad state. It's all going to pot, really.


Cush, by the way, is not a word sanctioned by any dictionary unless it refers to the Kingdom of Cush, which I believe is supposed to have been somewhere in Africa.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009


I have come to the inescapable conclusion that my brain has been completely consumed by mucus. The result is that the mucus has become marginally more intelligent than before, and I have been turned into the functional equivalent of a cucumber.

"But how," you may ask, "are you continuing to write brilliantly on your brilliantly brilliant blog of brilliancy?" (the word "brilliant" looks really weird after you type it several times in succession...)

"Because," I reply, "by consuming my brain, the mucus has achieved sentience and is now controlling my every thought and action."

Yes, it's true, ladies and germs. I have a cold.

(insert cheesy horror music here)



Monday, April 6, 2009

Fleet Foxes and Other Things

I'm thinking of getting headphones surgically attached to my ears.
I've found a band that I cannot stop listening to. The Fleet Foxes, based out of Seattle, have invaded my brain with their musical awesomeness. I think I'm going to let them keep it. No use fighting for real estate I'm not really using.

Seriously, this is a folk band worth checking out. Beautiful and haunting three and four part harmonies, lyrics that manage to be nearly inscrutable and amazingly down-to-earth at the same time, and a singer with a really cool beard. What more could you ask for?

The singing is by no means pitch-perfect, but it's nearly so, and has a wondrous raw quality that much of today's electronically assisted music lacks. As near as I can tell, their tracks are recorded with all of their original charm intact (the little noises that let you know the music was recorded in an actual studio by actual human beings), cutting a few sizeable chinks in the normally present musical fourth wall between recorded artist and audience.

Anyway, now that I've provided the Foxes with some free advertising, onto other things.

I've started writing songs again. It feels really good to let the ideas flow a little, since I've been storing up some pretty strong emotions for a while. I tell ya, those things'll rot your brain if you keep 'em there long enough.

No, wait, I didn't mean it like that! Please, come back! If you leave, I'll start writing songs like this...

Phew...much better.
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The Institute for Circular Reasoning by Peter Semple is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.