Monthly Archives: September 2014

Hating Arnold Schoenberg, part 2

Never before had music been composed that had begun to abandon the precepts of tonal harmony employed through out time in all civilizations, the very laws of nature which allow music to express harmonious and positive emotions. With these compositions, Schönberg began to compose music that was not completely based on the harmonic laws of music: natural, vibratory frequencies of nature, and instead entered into emotionally dark regions that no music dared express before….This is the music that will fill the homes and motion picture theatres of America during the last half of the Twentieth Century. It is music of terror, suspense, and fear.

From Arnold Schönberg: The Father of Negative Music

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by | September 22, 2014 · 5:37 pm

Capital Grille Lions

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The Capital Grille

1338 Chestnut St,

Philadelphia, PA

These were the lions that inspired this blog. I used to work across the street from this building, and I was fascinated at how pissed off the lions were.

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Affluent Chestnut Hill Lions

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422 W. Moreland Ave.

Philadelphia, PA

No closeups for lions at rich people’s homes

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Migrating this site to Bluehost

I am moving this blog to Bluehost, so I can use some plugins for Google Maps. We’ll see how this goes.

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Chestnut Hill Lion Gate

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36 West Willow Grove Ave.

Philadelphia, PA

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Elmore Leonard: 10 Rules For Writing

Do writers think up rules for writing as a way to avoid writing?

Elmore Leonard: 10 Rules.

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‘What a bitch o…

‘What a bitch of a thing prose is!’ Flaubert complained in a letter to Louise Colet while at work on Madame Bovary. ‘It is never finished; there is always something to be done over.’ Fanatical in his search for a style that, as he put it in another letter, was as ‘rhythmic as verse, precise as the language of the sciences, undulant, deep-voiced as a cello, tipped with a flame’, Flaubert devised a method for purging his sentences of unwanted repetitions. What he called the gueuloir (from gueuler, ‘to bellow’) was his practice of yelling prose at the top of his lungs until he felt it had been condensed to its sonic core. During one particularly savage gueulade he told the Goncourt brothers he felt he was going to spit blood.

From Carthachinoiserie, by Paul Grimstad, in the London Review of Books,

reviewing Flaubert’s ‘Gueuloir’: On ‘Madame Bovary’ and ‘Salammbô’ by Michael Fried

 

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by | September 4, 2014 · 3:00 pm

How Cool Was Miles Davis?

Saw the exhibit American Cool at the National Portrait Gallery. One hundred and two portraits of one hundred Americans. Who got three photos? Miles.

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