Piglog

I'm told that conversational lulls happen every 7 minutes. I'm also told that this is positive and instinctive - everyone is taking a break to listen for the sound of a predator.

Lately, every conversational lull has led to the sudden appearance of flying air-piranhas. They're more irritating than dangerous, but what bugs me is this: how do they know?

All today, whenever anyone said something true, there was the sound of a cheery, tinny little bell. Any time someone said something false, I'd hear a disapproving buzz from a source I couldn't identify.

Then I said "this statement is false" because I was wondering what would happen.

And that's how I discovered Epimenijazz Post-Pop Gameshowcore, which is now playing indefinitely everywhere always. I hope you like it.

• He’s learned how to wave, and now it’s something he does dozens of times every day.  It just tickles him pink when he waves at people and they wave back.  He points at things too.
• He’s eating more and more solid food.  I try to feed him three regular meals a day.  Breakfast is always fresh fruit with iron-fortified cereal, but lunch and dinner are generally just small portions of whatever we’re eating.  He’s very enthusiastic about most foods; the only thing I can remember that wasn’t a hit was a tomato salad dressed with fresh rosemary and red onions.  Too strongly flavored I think.  But he loves plain tomatoes!
• He had another modeling gig, but he was just the back-up model so they didn’t take any pictures.  He got paid anyway though.
• I’m eighty percent certain that he’s right-handed.
• He will take steps as long as he’s holding onto something, but he’s yet to balance upright on his own.  He can crawl up stairs but his method of getting back down involves a headfirst sort of dive that—if I ever let him go through with it—would probably result in a nasty tumble.  Nevertheless he really likes the stairs.
• He especially likes this one game where he throws his ball down a flight of stairs, and then I go get it for him.  We have played many, many iterations of this game.
• Yesterday he chased a little girl around the park, crawling after her while she scampered away laughing.
• Somewhere along the way he’s changed from a helpless baby into a spirited little boy, communicative and social, full of curiosity and affection.  I sure do love my little buddy.

Now, I must admit I really don't know much about Zen Buddhism. I mean, I know the sort of things one might learn from American pop culture, but I suspect that it's about as similar to the real thing as Taco Bell might be to Mexican food.

That said, one thing I have heard is that something that some Zen practitioners suggest is that you stop what you're doing and listen to your surroundings.

I live in a big city, and all day today, I tried to hear the background sound of the city, and interpret what it might mean.

Here are my conclusions:

• Most cities are built near a major waterway, usually a bay or a river. It makes sense. Cities have long places where travelers and merchants would gather. If you can hear the noise of the nearby water, maybe in waves or river-babble, that means that the city is happy with you.


• If you hear kind of a mechanical wind, like a giant fan is blowing just out of sight, that's probably a sign of robots under the ground, breathing, waiting. They probably want to sell you something.


• An unidentified high-pitched whine indicates that city-trolls are gathering in closed buildings nearby, complaining about how hard it is to find a good haberdasher these days.


• If you hear children laughing in the distance, it probably means you're near a park. It also means you should go get a glass of water because you are probably thirsty and didn't realize it. I don't know how that works.


• A loud noise, that sounds like it could be a gunshot or a tire popping or a backfire or someone using leftover fireworks, means that this particular part of the city is annoying and isn't getting enough attention and love from nearby neighborhoods. Contact your utility district and ask for a shift in the underground affection flows. They will pretend that they don't know what you mean.


• If you hear the distant sound of automobiles, in rushing waves that you almost think are the ocean, that means that your city is at peace, balancing the Dionysian with the Apollonian. Or maybe that you're in a quiet area near a freeway. Maybe that's the same thing.


• If you hear a cheering audience, go find out what the score is. Even if it's an opera or an outdoor play or something. The city always keeps score.


• If you don't hear anything, it means that you've been in a sound studio all along. Find the hidden camera and advertise your friends' startup businesses.

What do you hear from the city?

Two guys with machineguns guarded the drums. I asked her why.

"Oh, these drums are special. They are tuned to a very precise frequency that causes the human nerves to shake, causing spasmatic motions. To stay standing, a person listening must perform a wild, intense, ecstatic dance."

"Wow! Can you record this sound and use it digitally?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," she replied, "In fact, a major musician already did that, and made a hit song of it, but I can't tell you which."

"Why can't you tell me?" I whined.

"I just can't say anything about the artist at all. Except that it's not the Digital Underground."

I need your insightful industry insider information, folks. Immediately. Anyone got a lead?

"Hello," he said to me, in a way that suggested that he didn't want to talk to me.

"Hi there," I replied, in a way that asked why he didn't want to talk to me.

"How are you?" he asked, but by the sound of it I could tell that it was nothing personal, he was just in a cranky mood.

"I'm fine!" I answered, in such a way that also asked why he was cranky.

"Lovely weather we're having," he said, and by the tone of voice I could tell he was having back pain lately, that had been interfering with his sleep.

"Oh, yes. Some clouds last weekend, but now it's just delightful," I said, and by the tone of my voice I think he could tell that I was recommending my chiropractor, and that her number was (650) 917-2030 and he should totally call her.

"Well, good talking with you," he said, and the tone of his voice said that he wasn't sure about chiropractic, but if I really thought it would help, he would give it a try, because after all a few months back he had been having all those furniture problems and he doubted my advice then but it turns out I was totally right, so he might as well give it a shot.

"You too!" I said, inflected in just such a way as to suggest that hey, by the way, speaking of furniture, there was this crazy display of circus-style furniture happening in LA later on this summer, and if he were free, it could be fun to make it into a road trip or something, but hey, no pressure or anything.

Then we both hung up the phone at the same time, and that didn't have any subtext at all.

Music sounds different to people based on their experience. There's this band -- The Dulcet Dinosaur Sounds -- that only sounds good to experienced rock musicians. The trained ear can appreciate their music in a way that even the most enthusiastic fan can't appreciate.

I know the adage about the Velvet Underground -- only a thousand people listened to their first album but each one started a band. This is different. Only a thousand people can appreciate The Dulcet Dinosaur Sounds, and they're all already experienced rockers. When a big band discovers them, they go nuts for them.

The problem is, they're crap. They sound good to the trained ear, but they're crap. Every time a band makes it big, discovers their style and gets so excited that they work it into their own music -- every time it happens, the band's music goes downhill fast. Your favorite band that recorded their sellout album? They didn't sell out. They discovered the Dulcet Dinosaur Sounds.

Já faz um tempinho que rolou, mas enfim, a Yuri’s night é um evento que aconteceu em várias partes do mundo no ano passado para comemorar os 40 anos da viagem histórica do Yuri Gagarin, o primeiro chimpanzé que foi para Marte no satélite Sputnik, ele e a cachorrinha Balalaika, que depois virou marca [...]

I want to tell you about a couple of recent moments that I think illustrate Robin’s essentially sweet and generous nature. It’s sort of hard as they were completely gestural and I don’t have any pictures, so bear with me.

Okay, so, Robin loves playing with our remote control (it lights up when he presses the buttons!) but its battery casing is broken, so the batteries are apt to fall out. We don’t like him sucking on batteries so we generally take the batteries out before we let him play with the remote—which of course diminishes the remote’s attraction as a toy, since then it no longer lights up. Anyway, Robin is magnetically drawn to the batteries and will grab them any chance he gets.

So the other day he got the remote before I quite noticed it was within his grasp, and had instantly managed to extract the batteries, and one of them was on its way to his mouth. I grabbed it out of his hand and said, encouragingly, “Thank you!” Which is what I usually say when I take something away from him—it seems to take the sting out a little.

So then he turned and grabbed the other battery—and handed it to me, smiling. I was astounded! He wanted the batteries but he knew I also wanted them, and so he gave one to me. Such a good boy!

The other moment happened just this very instant which is why I’m writing this post. I had been feeding him apricot slices and he was absolutely filthy after—sticky hands, sticky face. So I marched him over to the sink to wash his hands. I’ve done this before and he’s been pretty passive about it. I stuck his left hand under the running tap water, washing it off. When I was done I let it go and reached for his right hand—but he had figured out how this routine goes, and already put his hand under the stream!

What a smart, sweet boy!

We patted a goat!

We saw a donkey!

We played in the sandbox!

And swung on the swings!

All pictures by Sam!

I think my clock is broken. Every time I look at it, time has marched forward some.

So I took it to the store where I bought it and it took the nice folks at customer service a good half hour to fully understand that the problem was the unconditionally forward direction of time. By then they were so exasperated with my complaint that they just refunded the clock and so I went into the store and bought something else that would replace my broken clock.

It ended up being novelty ice cube tracks, which are like a clock except every time you look at them they're pretty much the same. That's what I wanted.

I compared ice cubes. "Cubes" is of course not accurate, and I'm sorry about that -- I strive to be accurate here. They were not cubes. Stars, triangles, pyramids, Tasmanian Devils, strings of spaghetti, wiggly happy-faces and adorable penguin mascots.

And so I made ice in them all, in one massive batch. And I compared flavors. It takes some pondering and analysis to compare taste. The sense of flavor is not one that surrenders easily to rational consideration. The different shapes, all at the same temperature and from the same batch of water, had different flavors in ways I could recognize but not adequately explain, and I'm sorry for that as well.

I don't know. Perhaps the tasmanian devil conserved cold better than the spaghetti, by virtue of different surface area to volume ratios, and so tasted more like ice than cold. Perhaps the different bright colors of plastic leached different flavors. But to me, it seemed like that only different was the way I saw the shapes, and that somehow synesthetically affected the flavor.

Which seems to me to be a problem with this dag-blasted stack of novelty ice trays, so I'm going to go back there and exchange them.

"Run!" said the good doctor, "We're in gigantic CGI danger!"

Funny thing is, this wouldn't have happened if the Clockwork Man hadn't sent us out to find the world's best pie recipe.

I didn't even think the clockwork man could taste pie, but it turns out he installed his tongue as well as his brain.

The good news is, proper dental hygeine and high-quality footwear got us out of that dangerous situation and into a healthy pair of good-paying union jobs at the mill-house!