Kinda drizzly and overcast and just blah here.
Had some driving to do (started moving some stuff to the new house), so I listened to Beethoven’s 6th (Pastoral) on the way up, and while I found it pleasant, it was a bit meandering for my tastes. I’ve listened my way through all nine this past week, including multiple different versions, and I really prefer the Karajan performances. On the way home I listened to a 1983 performance of the 9th (Ode to Joy), and I have to say, the Scherzo from Eroica and the 9th really are my two favorites out of all that I have listened to. I’m not sure how you can’t enjoy this:
I’m new to describing this, so bear with me, but at around the nine to ten minute mark, when the cellos and the flutes go back and forth, leading to the cellists and the bass, then building to the violinists, and then the entire symphony comes crashing through, and the hair on your arms is standing up and you find yourself smiling and your eyes are moist and you can feel your chest just about to burst- that is the closest this agnostic/atheist/indifferent has ever come to thinking there is in fact a divine creator.
It is simply other worldly. Freude, schöner Götterfunken, indeed.
I think today is an excellent day to continue ignoring Bart Stupak.
I can’t tell you how much that cracks me up that he was whining to NRO that he was being ignored. When you’ve become so accustomed to grandstanding and the Pavlovian reward given to you by the media, being ignored really is a fate worse than death.
And no one deserves that more than Bart.
Trying to pick a new wallpaper for the computer. Tired of the pets, tired of the hubble snapshots. Suggestions?
My apologies to Bad Horse’s Filly for not posting this earlier:
It has been an interesting week. Very glad it’s almost over. We’ve swung between sunny spring weather and rainy spring weather. Both are welcome. So tonight’s menu features a primavera. Which is Italian for springtime. The carrot cake is not what you’d expect, it is a fruity, light confection with a definite spring touch. Buon appetite!
On the board tonight:
Click the link for recipes and shopping list.
Also from BHF:
And don’t forget to check out JeffreyW’s rescue puppies! Also known as a giggle of puppies.
I’m just poaching this picture from RedKitten’s FB feed, but this picture of SamKitten after a bath is too damned adorable to not post:
It kind of looks like that Redkitten ran into the same assembly issues that TBOGG did with Wembley, because those legs don’t look like they are in the right place.
I miss the Olympics. Not the “sports” part, because I don’t know from sports, but all the political news recently has been of the Giant Sucking Hell-Vortex variety, so I miss the novelty-pictures aspect of the Olympics. Stuff like this, as “borrowed” from Go Fug Yourself:
I might need him to tone it down a notch or three. Do I wish I had his hair? Yes. Did I need to see down to his sternum? Not really. Am I concerned he thinks he’s a cross between Uncle Sam, and Steven Tyler? Extremely. Although I guess those guys get more than their fair share of booty — I mean, come on, Uncle Sam’s whole shtick is “I Want YOU” — so I guess Shaun has chosen his nookie idols wisely. Still, at the very least, I think wrapping one’s junk in these pants could count as desecrating the flag.
(Go Fug Yourself is always a nice little pick-me-up when one needs confirmation that even people with unlimited money and access to the finest professional stylists can’t always avoid the Hot Mess arena.)
And this clip is not from the Olympics per se, but… their loss:
Finally, a question for those who do know from sports: Nomar Garciaparra, sweet sentimentalist or stupid posturing narcissist? The reaction in the Boston area seems to be evenly split, so far.