Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Visible milky way in Uludag

Credit & Copyright: Tunç Tezel (TWAN) - Click on Image to Enlarge.

In search of planets and the summer Milky Way. An evening road trip driving the winding road up Uludag, a mountain near Bursa, Turkey, one is rewarded by this beautiful skyview to the south.

Near the center, bright planet Jupiter outshines the city lights below and the stars of the constellation Sagittarius.

Above the mountain peaks, an arcing cloud bank seems to lead to the Milky Way's own cloudy apparition plunging into the distant horizon. In Turkish, Uludag means Great Mountain. Uludag was known in ancient times as the Mysian Olympus.

tracy urabe

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Making the mundane mesmerizing

Bertien van Manen

Ed Van Der Elsken

David Sherry

Nan Goldin

Sibling Lovers,dark and lovely sounds from Berlin

how did you two meet and what made you decide to start music together?
L: In the womb
J: Yes, but the music came later.

what were your major influences growing up?do they play an important part in your music today
(having a strong effect on your ideas and sound)?
L: we were both abused by our 7 foot 12 inch uncle Reginald thats why we are so dark and intense
J: I wouldn't call it abuse... but then again we did turn out - different.

what is your favorite alcoholic beverage?
L: pregnant womens broken water with a slice of lime
J: I had a friend who made wine out of possum, truly but I like a nice cheap vodka and coke. Or Passion pop.

where is your current location?
L: anywhere and everywhere
J: I just missed a plane to London, so I'm stuck in Berlin. Which is nice.

how is the music scene there?
L: an incredible uber-galatic,interstella bunch of tripe
J: I agree mostly. Pamelia Kurstin is cool though she's not really from here... Things will be better when Josh comes back. Actually I got to see Suicide in London last year - I expected them to be totally embarrassing old men but they were incredible. I missed the Monks though - fuck.

ever plan on coming to america to do a tour?
L: you pay we play
J: It's true, we are whores. Two of the four whores of the coming apocalypse.

what was the scariest dream youve ever had?
L: having had a huge night out and waking up next to bette midler
J: That hall of mirrors dream where you wake up, again and again but it's still a dream and things get progressively more fucked up. Either that or the one with the giant bird people who used me to feed their young.

what was the scariest reality youve ever had?
L: waking up next to jamie
J: We were fooling around and I tasted milk. I filled cups of the stuff, L'wren was all freaking out and crying but I was into it... Turns out it was because of these tablets called Risperdal, they have this side effect. Either that or being mugged by like 6 guys with knives, the moment before they left me penniless, bruised, drunk and alone I seriously expected a painful death and had this sinking feeling upon realizing there were still so many things I wanted to destroy.

on an average day like any day what makes you want to
make music?
L: because we want to get girls
J: It's true we are sluts, driven by sheer animal instinct, and the voices.

jamie,you sort of remind me of a young nick cave,im sure you get that a you like his music at all?
L: he is his bastard son
J: I'm glad you said 'young', what is the guy thinking with that moustache? But it's true that The Birthday Party cannot be improved upon.

what made you want to do a instrumentals as opposed to singing more?
L: we are a 2 piece symphony orchestra
J: It's true we are incredibly talented, but we can't sing.

if you could hang out with anyone(dead,alive)for one day,
who would it be?what would you do?
L: bette midler so i could get my bra back
J: Elvis, we'd sit by the fire, do drugs, build a genetics research facility with his immense wealth and use it to find out how to make babies together.


Listen to Sibling Lovers Here:

A Paupers Bath By Augustine

A Pauper’s Bath

I. Corpus: Sacred Precincts
Inverse precocity
Fear and excuses, fear and excuses
Words resting in your throat
I’m all skin and bones
Words waiting for an opportune moment
To be expressed
A series of empty fifths
An aria to an off key obligato
Incidental appendage of darling passions
Accommodate comforting mistruths as I deem fit
Neurasthenia, elation before the flood
The clouds gather in brooding bunches above
A herald of fertility
The condemned revel in the plummeting drops
Sleeping beyond the alarm
Above the din of crying children in the next room
Planting themselves before a television set
Running into each other at pivotal points in one another’s lives
A world of non-practicing historians
And loves
Are still forgotten
Willed into a purgatory fit for the avaricious
Is astonishment still possible with each
and every lay historian walking to their car
Buying a cup of coffee
Working at their desk
Talking on the phone
Lives, lives, lives
Lingering in the suffocating shade of southern memories
Wanting to reconquer their childhood empires
To establish new imperialistic outposts on a foreign body
-Going somewhere
-An appointment with someone?
The awe and ease of others
Strained relations and
A moment of affirmation gone terribly awry
A thirst for affirmation
Brings soldiers to their knees
The barest of bones
Thinnest of veils
All God’s children greedy for some kind of heaven
I am faithfully attached to a plagiarist

II. Corpus: Senile Sensualist
Abattoir: Sentences suspended like meat on a hook
Curing fleshy words so they can be devoured tenderly
With the least bit of strain on the stomach, jaws, esophagus, upper/lower intestines, teeth, tongue—a pleasant taste, suits her palette
Quandoquidem. Since when was undique mort est?
I know you heard it, you just chose to ignore it.
Tomorrow new measures, fresh pastures—for now, adhaesit paventium
An appeal to my vanity, “there is no greater measure of a man than the measure of his mind”
What good is that couth gesture without the invasion of space
Veracity of timeless tongues seeking a forgotten archetype
The act of desperation that wants to find precedent in the
Ancestral other, that timeless other

III. Nubile Nymphet
Woman seated, lonely, disconsolate on the hood of her car/heavy traffic.
Constantly shifting background, the bus stops, exhales as it rests to pickup passengers/the Priapific vision, homeless black man flanked by two foreign Japanese girls giggling in stereotypic fashion at the bulge in his stereotypically endowed sweatpants
African ethnicity has not been a great concern of modern historians?
“the spirit of the master is abating, the slave is rising from the dust”
Sabine learned cruelty from her father, correction, Sabine learned to be cruel by being cruel to her father
A precocious masochist, jutting tenderfoot into the torso of an accommodating father, imagined spurs, it was all instinctual, she had never heard of spurs or prodding the reluctant along with pain—fauthor and mauthor. κορυθαιλοσ πατροσ wincing and whinnying on command.

“pray you tread softly”
Figurations of a dying Mary.

πασιθεα καλλιστην ευϕροσυνη

“Pray you tread softly”.
Love, forgiveness, joy, joie et luxe.
Joy is a luxury.

“There is nothing but calm, splendor, and delight”
αποκαλυπτοσ. Eros in identification. Tiresias you celebrated harlot
Prancing along the corners and frequenting places of Johns.
What snakes are there in the city to slay other than the snakes that lay in frustrated trousers?
I hope he uses protection or the soothsayer is doomed.
Cibum et potions et delicae.
-Quelques empechement.
-Moins que rien!
Beatific scent.
Faint taste of urine and sanctimonious bodies.
I’m not impressed with the mess you’ve made of me.
An honest face and a sinking feeling.
Inviolate visage/misleading beacon
We’ll dream of London sometimes.
It’s the body’s own reasoning/reckoning.

IV. Corpus: Ex Corpus
I detest those that run their lives with economic tidiness. Yet I am fascinated with the hyper-rationalist—people who attempt to limit their lives to the confines of scientific rigor and deny the irrational on the grounds of reason.
God doesn’t have to deal with the consequence(s) of man
Finger licking libertines
De belois bolsters the road, travestis bolster surrogate sheets

V. Corpus: Oneiros Philotes
Youthful vigor? You mean uncontrollable erections and romantic longings?
No. I think
I’ve suffered my fair share of heartbreak and hard-ons for now.
The only emotions you’ve known were/are
Fear and drunkenness
The latter is the only one I warrant an emotion

VI. Corpus: Grand Mal
Son of a baker: doughy physicality attributed to his yeasty lineage.
(T,W,t, L, F, H, L, a, L, C) this used to mean something but I forget what?
Modern eloquence. In my dreams women don’t resist me.
A sketch of a male torso, mine I presume, in the middle of waiting pages, and a sketch of the way she always wanted to look.
Mon dieu, send some tyranny upon the land.
Mon dieu, set some misguided visionary potentate upon the earth, who will be directed by a dream and will send the ships away from the shore.
Mon dieu, the liminal, not the ephemeral.
Mon dieu, νεϕελεγερετα
In all your ancient manifestations, relocate, this town is gentrified.
Heir to a scullion’s throne.