Monthly Archives: March 2011

March 31, 2011 – Song 147

Have you ever seen the graph of technology? Song 147.

Can’t Stop – Red Hot Chili Peppers

It’s basically just a dramatic swoop upwards. Exponentially increasing faster than you can even believe. Do you remember life before internet? Or maybe even when a computer took up a whole room? Or maybe even life before computers? It really wasn’t all that long ago. Relatively speaking. 

And us? Humans?

Still pretty much the same. Well, sort of.

$5 says you now carry the internet around your pocket. So just imagine what ten years from now will look like. How do you make a peace with that? Without declaring a war? I guess we’ll all just have to find out.

I brought up this video in conversation tonight. In my mind the song was called “By the Way”. But no. That’s not the name at all. I wonder if in a decade from now I’ll still think it looks cool. Because a decade later I still do.

Just don’t Google “The Graph of Technology” or you might end up looking at this.

The Key To The Universe.

WHAT. Who needs that? It’s bedtime.

The Monster at the End of this Book indeed.

Just ask Grover.

It’s easy. He’s on the internet too.

Of course.

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March 30, 2011 – Song 146

Thank you. A lot of things can change in the span of one year.

Sometimes even, in one year, exactly.

Surprise. Song 146.


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March 29, 2011 – Song 145

Facebook Blows My Hole Mindhole.

(The Partial Unfinished Theory Of The Philosophy of Facebook.)

By Sarah Frier

Song 145.

Seven Wonders – Fleetwood Mac

A picture of something on Facebook changed my life. I am not sure how to be more dramatic about it. That’s what happened to me. I was there and I saw it. And I have recently checked in with some old friends and it’s been confirmed. I am not totally crazy, my memory works reasonably well and while there might not be such a thing as coincidences, it is fun to believe in surprises.

On a day that was sadder than sad I was standing in my kitchen holding an avocado masher, as in the tool humans use to make guacamole. That is, if your weird Mom puts it in your Christmas stocking or as luck would have it, somebody else’s. I didn’t know whether I should put it in a box, back in the drawer or maybe even, possibly, in the garbage. And I couldn’t think about it anymore.

It was killing me.

So I went on Facebook.

And I saw a funny picture that someone had posted. It was about seafood and strangely enough, Reggae.

Before I knew it I was clicking through a bunch of pictures. And I wasn’t exactly laughing but at least I wasn’t standing in the kitchen like a moron anymore.

And then there it was. A Gamechanger if you will.

It was a picture of a funny looking lost dog that this person had found in the world and helped to get home. And, according to them, this mission would not have been possible without the help of strangers.

It cut me in two. It made my brain hurt. And, it made me cry. Because, I realized…


But I kept on clicking. Because, well, I had quit. Trying. And then there it was.


The Day The Universe Changed.

I have never been to New Zealand so I have never seen this thing with thine eyes but there is something there that looks like the Space Needle in Seattle. And apparently you can jump off of it, if you are so inclined. It had been a recent topic of conversations in my life. My advice to a person considering said extreme sport was something along the lines of “You should totally do it if you think you should. Mountain Dew!” That person needed to feel something that they weren’t. And I wanted them, very, very badly, to find it. And to feel it. Because I loved them and I wanted them to be happy.

And if that’s what they needed to do then that’s ok. I’m just glad they wore a helmet.

The very next picture was a picture of a picture of this NZ Space Needle on the cover of some magazine. And there were all kinds of words on the cover about the articles inside. I don’t know what this article was about but the words “Only Kindness Matters” were there, plain as day, on the cover, in this picture of a picture that someone put on Facebook. I thought I had gone insane. And well, I just might of. It depends on who you ask.

I joke a lot about Facebook being the Collective Unconscious and that things like this are as important as the Manhattan Project. I joke about a lot of things actually. But this is no joke. At least that’s how the Universe looks from in here.


On a different sadder than sad day I posted a song on Facebook by Fleetwood Mac called Never Going Back Again. I guess I wanted to talk to someone or at least tell someone something but I didn’t know who and and I didn’t know what and I didn’t know how. So I just did that, because, I guess, I just thought I should. Mountain Dew! My friend Melanie immediately commented something like “Three hugs coming your way.” because, she is kind. And she is the mother of triplets. Three little birds to be exact. She knew my story and so she knew why I posted that. It didn’t exactly feel like a hug but then again it also sort of didn’t. Not. Didn’t not. Oh fuck it. You catch my drift.


You can tell a lot about people by the things they love. At least that is the starting point of my web based research.

Personally, I guess I am kind of a Rasta. Because I only believe in the one.

But oh man, the commentator is a real Negative Nancy. I’d try to tell him that change is where you see it but, we’re not friends on Facebook. Yet.

Bob Marley One Love Peace Concert


And on that note something weird keeps happening. In “real” life. Outside of Facebook. Off the public stage. I get emails from people who saw things I posted. And sometimes, I even get text messages. It depends. On how well they “actually” know me I guess. Sometimes people just say things to my face. My regular face. And sometimes they don’t. But I can tell when they look me in the eye and give me a hug that they saw something. And I can also tell how hard it is. It’s one of the reasons that it’s always been difficult for me to make eye contact. Because I can tell. And I am just one lady. With all the same problems, sort of. And I am not a god. I don’t know how to fix it and I sure as shit can’t make it stop. But I guess I figured if I showed people how it worked for me than it might help them find a way of their own. 1♥.

And that is exactly how you do that. Well at least, that’s my theory. I’m still testing it.

By the way, if you want to get weird (And I know that you sometimes do) I was born the year this was recorded. And this year, very soon in fact, I will be as old as Jesus was when men, not nature and certainly not god, decided he should die. At least that’s how the story goes as far as I’ve been told. Polish people think it’s a very lucky time. Your Christ Years, according to some. So what does that make me? Still nothing. Nothing at all. Well, I guess I am still just one lady.

Although I do try to be a Ladydude. As best as I know how. ♥


I didn’t know how to do this so I checked in with some members of my tribe.

And some of them just decided, on their own, randomly, to check in with me.

Thanks for the text message Caroline. I’m beginning to think you just ARE love.

And yes I do want to go mediate with you Annie, what a great suggestion. That’s why you’re the boss.

And Ben, thanks for the call and I know you are gonna be just fine. I can tell.

And I love you Mom. Since the day I was born weird.

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March 28, 2011 – Song 144

A while ago I wrote something about a book I adore by Herman Hesse called “Journey to the East” but in that moment, I couldn’t remember how it came to me.

And then Poof! Suddenly, I remembered.

The Day The Universe Changed indeed, Stephen Asma. Song 144.

The first time I met Thurston Moore I was holding a copy of “Abracadabra” by Steve Miller Band. I had it stuck in my head and I was DJing a party that night. Somehow, we didn’t have it at work. But there it was waiting for me at the Pitchfork record fair. It was literally seconds after I had told the dude I bought it from that I didn’t need a bag. If I could turn back time indeed.

This summer I had the chance to meet the rest of Sonic Youth. For a person like me that is like meeting your gods. But the best part is, they’re not gods at all. They are just really, really cool people.

I somehow ended up talking to Kim Gordon about her daughter taking the driver’s test. She was saying it is so strange to think of her as old enough. I couldn’t help but think it was strange (and not say it outloud, thank you Sweet Jesus) that there is still a picture of you on the wall of my childhood bedroom.

Kim went on to say that in her state you have to have a sponsor in the car with you when you take the driving exam. So she had to sit there in the back of the car while her daughter drove, just dying. Doing her best not to say a word. A while after that her license expired and Thurston had to do the very same thing. Which she guessed was significantly harder because she ended up getting in a fight with her instructor.

100% of my love. For a very, very long time now.


I went to one year of Catholic high school. It is where I met one of my dearest friend’s Kelly O’keefe. (oh you’ll get yours. don’t you worry. ♥) I was in a French class there with a lady who later changed her name (again with the name changing!) to something decidedly more exotic. Many years later she was asked to write a movie after someone noticed her blog. When the buzz started, but before she was quite so famous, my friend Kelly called me and said that she had heard this weird thing and was wondering if I happened to be a stripper and I had just “forgot” to mention it.

It wasn’t me. But some part of me was crushed. Because, somehow, I felt like it should have been. Not that I actually did anything about it.

I don’t remember her at all and we were not friends. Which is odd because when I Googled her there she was in a fucking Green Day Kerplunk! T-shirt. It’s hard for me to believe that in that (tiny) school that our paths never crossed. But I can’t think of one single interaction we ever had.

But, like I said, it is a well known fact that I have always been crazy for Sonic Youth. ♥

Not “Tunic” but a song for Karen nonetheless.


I still think this exchange is one of the most beautifully written things I have ever seen. No matter what anyone says about anything.

Juno MacGuff: I’m just like losing my faith with humanity.

Mac MacGuff: Can you can narrow that down for me?

Juno MacGuff: I just wonder if like, two people can ever stay together for good.

Mac MacGuff: You mean like couples?

Juno MacGuff: Yeah, like people in love.

Mac MacGuff: Are you having boy troubles? Because I gotta be honest with you; I don’t much approve of dating in your condition, ’cause well… that’s kind of messed up.

Juno MacGuff: Dad, no!

Mac MacGuff: Well, it’s kind of skanky. Isn’t that what you girls call it? Skanky? Skeevy?

Juno MacGuff: Please stop.

Mac MacGuff: [persisting] Tore up from the floor up?

Juno MacGuff: That’s not what it’s about. I just need to know that it’s possible that two people can stay happy together forever.

Mac MacGuff: Well, it’s not easy, that’s for sure. Now, I may not have the best track record in the world, but I have been with your stepmother for 10 years now and I’m proud to say that we’re very happy.

[Juno nods]

Mac MacGuff: Look, in my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That’s the kind of person that’s worth sticking with.

Juno MacGuff: Yeah. And I think I’ve found that person.

Mac MacGuff: Yeah sure you have – your old D-A-D! You know I’ll always be there to love you and support you no matter what kind of pickle you’re in… Obviously.

[nods to her belly]

Juno MacGuff: Dad, I think I’m just going to, like, shove out for a sec, but I won’t be home late.

Mac MacGuff: Ok. You were talking about me right?


If you are so inclined you should check out Dr. Stephen Asma’s stuff. He writes books and blogs and he’s hands down one of the best teachers I have ever had. Total Gamechanger.

Begin at the Beginning.

And on that note the pop culture laden Journey to the East continues…Macaulay Culkin et all.

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March 27, 2011 – Song 143

It’s my first inclination to say…


But if I have one goal for 2011 it’s to marry my Cryptic Nature with Understanding.

So instead I will preface this with: This is hands down one of the coolest things anyone has ever told me.

Ladies and Gentlemen…May I present Claire Mooney. Song 143.

I don’t know how to begin…I feel like Alice talking to the March Hare & Mad Hatter…”begin at the beginning” 

In February, the 3rd week, just before my birthday, my car was stolen from the driveway outside my apartment. Its a 1989 Subaru Loyale. My wonderful friend Jill brought me to North Carolina to her friend Ash’s farm, where she paid for it and we drove it home to Chicago. I love this beast of car…but one day, after a very, very cold night, I look outside and she is gone.

I tend to not freak out over such things since nothing can be done about it. Police were called, Facebook was notified and I decided I had to sit and wait until perhaps the goat got a ticket which would lead us to where she was parked. This meant I have to wait for street cleaning which doesn’t begin until April 1…now, so, again, I didn’t freak out, I have maintained ‘it will all work out’. My friends and family have been much more concerned about how on earth am I going to get around (for those that don’t know, me having a car is a bit of a necessity.) One friend asked if he could put together a benefit show, my Dad has, I’m sure, been trying to find good cheap reliable cars online, etc etc…but I keep saying ‘it will work out, I don’t know how, but it will.’ (I mean, it always does, even if not in the planned and anticipated way.)

Last week I had this Facebook conversation(s) with my Sarah Frier…

she posted this to my wall…

A Canadian man named William Treble once found over a thousand four-leaf clovers in a single day. Niamh Bond, a British baby, was born on the tenth day of the tenth month of 2010 — at exactly 10:10 a.m. and 10 seconds. My friend Allan told me he was driving in suburbia the other day when two white cats bolted across the road right in front of him. And yet as lucky as all that might sound, it pales in comparison to the good fortune that’s headed your way, Pisces. Unlike their luck, which was flashy but ultimately meaningless, yours will be down-to-earth and have practical value.

To which I reply:

I wonder if a couple tickets to Mexico could be considered practical. Me thinks yes.

I also made another comment that perhaps when said car is found there will be a bag of money shoved under the seat that the thieves left behind and we can get a villa on the coast for a spell.

Now. I don’t believe in coincidence, happenstance or mistakes. I do believe in surprises though.

My toilet keeps getting clogged. Like for a month now. Every time I poop I have to say a little prayer that it flushes. Its been pissing me off…and sure enough this morning, it won’t drain fully. So I take a coat hanger and start jabbing away whilst cursing. I flush. It clears. Except there is something at the bottom of the bowl…


There is a huge gold and diamond ring sitting at the bottom of my toilet bowl. What? I didn’t eat that. This is for a large man, it slides right off my thumb as if I were a 5 year old trying on my Mom’s wedding ring. I immediately thought of Frodo holding that ring that was just so big for his tiny hobbit hand.

So. This ring. I can only assume that it was the crazy old Ukrainian that lived here before me who took in stray animals and had a mail order bride. They fought a lot. She maybe flushed it and it got lodged? I don’t know. It was a hiding spot for his special things? I guess I should start pooping more. Maybe more treasure will come up.

My dad is taking it to his jeweler to check it out. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s fake. Or maybe its a huge fucking diamond and the reason I didn’t worry was because. somehow, I get that I shouldn’t..that it will all come out in the wash…or the toilet.

-xo c


I told Claire I would add anything she missed but I don’t really know what she was so worried about. This is perfection. If I can add only one thing it’s that I took to calling her car the “Pvolvo”. Because I am a funny lady who knows a lot about music and nothing about cars.

“Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end.”

Claire Mooney has that tattooed on her leg. In a place only the very lucky will ever get to see. Hubba Hubba. ♥

Just so we’re square, I already had a post written. And you better believe it involves Macaulay Culkin. Because that is exactly how you do that.

Also Moondog, it’s hard to imagine it’s possible that there is anyone on this whole earth who was as tickled by your LOTR reference more than I. And I also liked how you called me “your Sarah Frier”.

And triple also, if you feel like I am not acknowledging something, just be patient. I’m workin’ on my words. I love you and I have all kinds of calendars in mind. This train is rolling until early November. Some people have left. And some haven’t gotten here yet. ♥ And I, for one, can not wait to meet them. All of them.

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March 26, 2011 – Song 142

Hey Taylor Ward. Help a girl out. Did this actually happen? Song 142.

I used to be afraid that I remembered stuff weird. Like differently than other people. Which often made a liar out me. Because sometimes I knew there was difference between my explanation and the one that was right or at least the one that was supposed to be. My version always had more to it somehow. Fake parts to make it a better story. But after awhile the fake parts got mushed in with the real parts and then after that it was just all jelly to me. I couldn’t remember which parts were “real” and which weren’t. It was all significantly more outlandish when I was young. Like I had a tiger in the basement kinda stuff. As I grew, it was more like a Benjamin Button meets Big Fish kinda thing. Still romanticized but more realistic as far as magic stuffs goes. Maybe that’s why I spend so much fucking time in the bathtub!


When I was in junior high my friend Taylor’s Mom lived in the city. We would go to her house sometimes to stay the night. She lived by the original Old Town School of Folk Music and I remember waking up there to children singing. One time, for Taylor’s birthday, three of us went downtown for the night. I remember pizza but not much else. Well, except for this.

During the day we went to Water Tower Place to go shopping, because that’s exactly how you did it then. Taylor, Katie, Jennifer and I. So there we are, shopping. Going down an escalator to be exact. And there it was. One of the most amazing things I have ever seen.

Coming up the other side, in what seemed like slow motion, was Michael Jackson, several children and several body guards. Michael was wearing a black surgeon’s mask. All of us froze and watched the group go by us. I don’t even remember getting off the escalator. I just remember standing there in shock trying to figure out what just happened and what to do. Jennifer and Katie thought it was lame to go back up stairs to see if that was possibly real. Taylor and I were already halfway up the escalator.

So we get upstairs and follow the group into some kind of tiny fancy candy store. And I mean (tiny). And then we try and play it cool. And just, like, shop. At some point, while pretending to look at a wall of chocolate or something we begin a whispered conversation that goes something like this. “go say something.” “no you go say something.” “you’re the one who wants to be famous.” “what?” “you go say something” and so on. In my mind, Taylor even pinched my arm, but I swear to God that is the part of this story that I find the most unbelievable.

And then suddenly, he is just there. Right there, next to Taylor. Of course, we both silently die. And then, Michael Jackson, yes, I said it, Michael Jackson, The King Of Pop, THAT one, says to her “Hey. Do you know if there is like a regular candy store in this mall?”

I was in awe as Taylor kept it together as she explained the location of another store with out exploding. However, I do remember Michael distinctly asking her if she thought “they would have bubblegum?” Taylor said yes. And inside of that second, you could feel the group surge together and begin to disappear so fast it felt like I had the Bends. But somehow, I sprung into action. I literally jumped in front of Michael Jackson, yes THAT Michael Jackson, and said. “Hi. Are you Michael Jackson?” He nodded and quietly said yes. So I asked him if I could shake his hand. And so I did. And so did Taylor. And then they were gone.

We stood there for a moment in shock before it dawned on us to try and go see where they went. We busted ass out of that chocolate shoppe but….Poof! Cloud of smoke. They were all, probably seven or so people, just totally gone. Nowhere. Not on the escalator cresting out of view. Not out front, blending into the crowd. Let alone, being surrounded by one. They were nowhere.

So Taylor and I hightailed it downstairs to the Banana Republic to scream our story at our friends. Even then, minutes later, as we retold it, it seemed like a lie. The last thing I remember is a dude who worked at that store saying something to the effect of famous people coming in and out of service doors. And that’s all I’ve got.

In my mind, that is exactly how that happened. Your thoughts?


By the way Taylor, I like thinking of you happy. With a kid on your knee, in the California sunshine, reading this and laughing.

Even if, that’s not how it went down at all. ♥


In case you are interested, this is how I got here today. Actually, this might be the one time I will just straight up say it. You should be. Because one way or the other it’s exactly how you got here too. This is the PBS version of part of a book that completely changed my life. It’s called The Day The Universe Changed by James Burke. It was part of the curriculum in a class I took at Columbia College with Dr. Steven Asma called Philosophy and the History of Science.

Mindblowing. For all the best reasons.

It made me quit everything. In a good way. Although, I think I am only now, starting to figure out why.

Jeez, took me long enough! Whoops.


And also, this might be the other time I will just straight up say it. This is one of the greatest things I have ever seen.

With thine eyes.

Is that Wesley Snipes?

BTW. Is that a copy of Franny & Zooey by the typewriter?

Yuuuuuuuup. Me thinks.

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March 25, 2011 – Song 141

You wanna get weird? Then let’s get weird.

Let’s get real weird. Song 141.

In fact, let’s sit in it until our fingers get all pruney.*

And on that note, have you ever seen Reign of Fire?

A couple of years ago I went to South by Southwest. I was outside of a show smoking a cigarette, having already reached some kind of informational saturation point. There’s only so much you can hear or see or say. Sometimes you just need to be quiet and by yourself. I was at that point. I had been staying up late and drinking and running into people and after awhile just running out of things to say. Rare, I know.

So I am standing there, by myself, in some random broke down looking part of Austin, when I hear music from across the street. And although I felt so tired of sound at that point I found myself crossing the street and standing at a chain link fence watching yet another band play. But I couldn’t help it. A dude walked up and so I asked him “Who is that?” and he said the “That? That’s the Black Angels.”

I only talked to that dude for a second or two but in that time I uttered something random that I recently had to defend. I called it Reservation Rock. And, well, as it turns out, I meant it.


My Mother is 100% Polish. My Father, is mostly German, but also Scottish, Welsh and a couple of other things. Neither of them speak any language other than English and both of them were born in the United States. As a child we went to church but it was really more of a habit from my Mother’s side of the family. Eventually, we all stopped. I was born and raised in the State of Illinois and have never really lived anywhere else. So what does that make me?


Native American actually.

And I’m not talking Sioux, Dakota, Chickasaw, Shawnee or even Illini.

I am far removed from those things as well. But at least I am from the same part of the same country. And by “country” I mean the flatlands. With the same trees and the same lakes and the same birds and the same sunsets and whatever else you can add up that still remains.

So again, what does that make me?

I take my lessons where I find them man. I watch plants push their way through frozen ground and around concrete. I listen to people like I listen to drums like I listen to the El train like I listen to children. The sun shines on me and the rain falls on me and sometimes I even get snowed on. I live with a dog who still refuses to speak fucking English although I can usually tell what he’s thinking. I read things in books and I read things on the Internet. I like feeling connected to my friends and my family. Although sometimes I walk alone looking for stuff. But most of all I do my best to be nice to the people I meet on my way.

I like the term Reservation Rock because I like alliteration. I also understand the context of Reservations. But that is what Native American, and this time I do mean American Indian, settlements are called to this day. I understand the atrocities associated and I do not think they should be forgotten. But if I can undo anything it’s by learning about the people who live there instead. I like the sounds they make and I like hearing it in unexpected places. I know that I can be bossy and I don’t want to start a fight. However, if this is how it goes then while we’re at it someone should probably tell Joy Division about the Holocaust.


Sometimes I wonder what stories I would tell if everything ever had burned. It’s the moral that matters right?

*That is 100% a reference to French Kiss and it was for you Ms. Caroline Yohanan.

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March 24, 2011 – Song 140

Still gets a *sigh* Song 140.

My first year in college I spent most of my free time either at the Fireside Bowl or in the dorm room directly below mine. That was the year that Trainspotting (the movie) came out and everyone was bananas for the soundtrack. Including me and my roommate. We literally spent days downstairs dancing to The Underworld with our new friends from down under.

One of the guys in that room was the first openly gay person I had ever known. Although that didn’t seem to stop either my roommate or I from developing massive crushes on him. Semi-Competitive crushes even, which is so stupid because the dude was so gay. Super gay even. But still we would get really jealous over him. It was actually kind of a problem for a bit between us. But then the downstairs dance parties got more and more popular and there were more girls around. He was a REALLY good dancer. And well, we might never figure out which one of us he liked better, but we sure as shit weren’t gonna share him with any other bitches. Teamwork!

A lot of my other “more punk” friends couldn’t understand why we liked hanging out in the dorms so much, but to this day those were some of the most intense dance parties I have ever attended.

We would cram into that dorm room and dance until we were dripping with sweat. I have never been into any kind of sport that did that kind of thing to me. On more than one occasion I even remember dropping to my knees. And not on purpose. At some point during the year, someone got the double Best of New Order CD. And that was the end of it. From then on we only went upstairs to get more drinks.

I know that it doesn’t exactly sound religious but it felt better than anything I had ever experienced in an actual church, although, I do appreciate that works for other people. But what’s weird, is that I think the reason I can appreciate that it can work in other ways is because I found the way that it works for me.

Do you know what? Not to sound like a dick but I kind of think if you don’t appreciate that it works all kinds of ways then your way isn’t actually working. Like at all.

Maybe you broke it? Or maybe somebody else broke it for you? Don’t worry though. I bet it can be fixed. Most things can. At least most things that are worth keeping. ♥

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March 23, 2011 – Song 139

I heard Nancy Wilson once talking about how when she first got her guitar she would sleep with it at night and wake up with the fret board imprinted on her face. I like to think about that when I think of things that are awesome. Song 139.

I don’t know if there has ever been a better example of fashion do’s and don’ts all mushed together.

I’m looking at you nipples.

Actually I’m not.

Wait, oh shit, I totally am!

Here’s something else awesome that a 4th grade girl taught me today: 

Did you know that a little girl named Ayokeh helped her father Sequoyah develop the written language that the Cherokee people use to this day? Unable to find people willing to learn the syllabary, he taught it to his daughter Ayokeh, and then traveled to present-day Arkansas where some Cherokee had settled. When he tried to convince the local leaders of the syllabary’s usefulness, they doubted him, believing that the symbols were merely reminders. Sequoyah asked each of them to say a word, which he wrote down, and then called his daughter in to read the words back.

This story made my young friend’s heart explode.

And that exploded mine. ♥

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March 22, 2011 – Song 138

Oh dear God Gwen Lemos. You are like the perfect storm. Song 138.

The entire inspiration for my year long quest was born inside a night I spent next to you and next to music. A strange trip I started that you didn’t even know about until tonight.

I asked you to text me the name of a song because even as I half heartedly tried to explain what’s been happening my mind was already made up that tomorrow was your call.

If I ever doubted that all I had to do was listen then I am nothing more than a fool.

Just so you know, it took all of my will power to not know the song until right now.

And all I can say is, as cryptic as it might seem, the Cube just took the Sphere.

Touche babe. Touche. ♥

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