Robert (gurdonark) wrote,
Robert
gurdonark

watch analogies



I'm moving at the speed of light on projects this month. That's a good thing, although I want to go visit my dad and my sister, and the weekends tend to get "taken up" with work and other similar things. My wife is taking our dog Ted in for a grooming. Although Ted's a lhasa, we keep her puppy-cut. It is a Rule of Nature that we get our first cold front just when her hair has been cut too short. We're girding our loins in our house to live with our temperature turned down this winter. Viva quilts! Viva saving money! Viva conservation!

I review a couple of songs on garageband.com every day lately. They're always interesting. Some songs are great, some are less great. Most appeal to me in some way. I would not make a good jaded critic. I'm jade-impaired. I'm more the jasper type. You know Jasper--really just quartz underneath, but he looks like a big red-faced galoot.
Galoots like mud pies, by the way. We get these healthy Mississippi Mud Pies and they're better than even a perfectly ripe banana. They're not German chocolate cake, mind you, but very tasty.

I travel for work tomorrow. I want to rise early, when the birdsong is vigorous and the highways are clear. I dream of sushi in Little Tokyo, and drinking my soup without a spoon. I posted a new remix at the ccmixter today.
I called it "Dharsana Salt Works", a reference to the 1930s Gandhi Salt March. The music isn't the story, of course, the music is the music. But to me, the story is always interesting, too. I'm puzzling over William Paley's "Natural Theology", in its 1809 edition. Paley uses the watch upon the ground analogy to argue for the design of nature pointing to a creator. He conducts an interesting argument, given the data available to him, which I do not propose to address. I focus instead on his prophetic powers. He said: "When the forests of America come to be cleared, and the swamps drained, our gnats will give place to other inhabitants". Thus, like Nostradamus, he saw all and foresaw suburbs. The future is not so much a mystery as a mistake or two.

Maybe I'll learn to play tin whistle at month's end.
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