what can you really even say at this point about the last 365 days other than "so long, asshole"? what can you really even do other than get gooned on nog and trudge along, head down, dispossessed.....
and yet, in many ways, it feels as if the world may never learn its lessons, leaving that cosmic door open just a crack for the next "unprecedented" disaster to come blowing in. OR.....maybe........2020 has at the very least guaranteed that all future shit shows will now be extremely precedented upon arrival. like you, i have 1000 extremely precedented and crappy opinions that should never make it to the echo chamber, so we should probably just forget about it.
order of business #1: against all odds, 2020 provided a decent slew of songs. i have accumulated a playlist, in no particular order, and unceremoniously present it to you now:
open.spotify.com/playlist/7BiMUu0esOfDw65PQuqW0u?si=0WyhUrzsRFSrcCMPumXmGw
i know there's a way to succinctly embed that link but i don't fee like looking it up right now. THAT'S where we're at emotionally.
order of business #2: the hearn project chugs along, and is now well into the knock-down, nitty gritty of fleshing out a story arc and combing through some visuals with my co-creators. not knowing what will be used yet, my gut tells me we will probably refrain from posting a whole lot on this until the end, which is very far off, but here is at least some early iteration that might find a place. flat broke upon his arrival in cincinnati, hearn lived on the streets until the kindness of strangers landed him a couple weeks stay in a hayloft. since he describes it best, it seems like a good note to end this year on.
and yet, in many ways, it feels as if the world may never learn its lessons, leaving that cosmic door open just a crack for the next "unprecedented" disaster to come blowing in. OR.....maybe........2020 has at the very least guaranteed that all future shit shows will now be extremely precedented upon arrival. like you, i have 1000 extremely precedented and crappy opinions that should never make it to the echo chamber, so we should probably just forget about it.
order of business #1: against all odds, 2020 provided a decent slew of songs. i have accumulated a playlist, in no particular order, and unceremoniously present it to you now:
open.spotify.com/playlist/7BiMUu0esOfDw65PQuqW0u?si=0WyhUrzsRFSrcCMPumXmGw
i know there's a way to succinctly embed that link but i don't fee like looking it up right now. THAT'S where we're at emotionally.
order of business #2: the hearn project chugs along, and is now well into the knock-down, nitty gritty of fleshing out a story arc and combing through some visuals with my co-creators. not knowing what will be used yet, my gut tells me we will probably refrain from posting a whole lot on this until the end, which is very far off, but here is at least some early iteration that might find a place. flat broke upon his arrival in cincinnati, hearn lived on the streets until the kindness of strangers landed him a couple weeks stay in a hayloft. since he describes it best, it seems like a good note to end this year on.
“I take off my clothes,—few and thin,—and roll them up into a bundle, to serve me for a pillow: then I creep naked into the hay.... Oh, the delight of my hay-bed—the first bed of any sort for many a long night!—oh, the pleasure of the sense of rest! The sweet scent of the hay!... Overhead, through a skylight, I see stars—sharply shining: there is frost in the air.
“The horses, below, stir heavily at moments, and paw. I hear them breathe; and their breath comes up to me in steam. The warmth of their great bodies fills the building, penetrates the hay, quickens my blood;—their life is my fire.
“So contentedly they breathe!... They must be aware that I am here—nestling in their hay. But they do not mind;—and for that I am grateful. Grateful, too, for the warmth of their breath, the warmth of their pure bodies, the warmth of their good hay,—grateful even for those stirrings which they make in their rest, filling the dark with assurance of large dumb tolerant companionship.... I wish I could tell them how thankful I am,—how much I like them,—what pleasure I feel in the power that proceeds from them, in the sense of force and life that they spread through the silence, like a large warm Soul....
“The horses, below, stir heavily at moments, and paw. I hear them breathe; and their breath comes up to me in steam. The warmth of their great bodies fills the building, penetrates the hay, quickens my blood;—their life is my fire.
“So contentedly they breathe!... They must be aware that I am here—nestling in their hay. But they do not mind;—and for that I am grateful. Grateful, too, for the warmth of their breath, the warmth of their pure bodies, the warmth of their good hay,—grateful even for those stirrings which they make in their rest, filling the dark with assurance of large dumb tolerant companionship.... I wish I could tell them how thankful I am,—how much I like them,—what pleasure I feel in the power that proceeds from them, in the sense of force and life that they spread through the silence, like a large warm Soul....
 | “It is better that they cannot understand. For they earn their good food and lodging;—they earn the care that keeps them glossy and beautiful;—they are of use in the world. And of what use in the world am I?...“Those sharply shining stars are suns,—enormous suns. They must be giving light to multitudes unthinkable of other worlds.... In some of those other worlds there must be cities, and creatures resembling horses, and stables for them, and hay, and small things—somewhat like rats or mice—hiding in the hay.... I know that there are a hundred millions of suns. The horses do not know. But, nevertheless, they are worth, I have been told, fifteen hundred dollars each: they are superior beings! How much am I worth?... “To-morrow, after they have been fed, I also shall be fed—by kindly stealth;—and I shall not have earned the feeding, in spite of the fact that I know there are hundreds of millions of suns!” |
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