There is this guy named Chogyam Trungpa who wrote a pretty fantastic book that I had the pleasure of reading before that other guy's baby mama took it in the breakup.
In that book he talks about this concept of basic human goodness. The way I've parsed it out is that basic human goodness involves those things that are just universally and intrinsically good to all people, in all times. Sunshine on the skin feels good. Babies smell good. Food is nourishing. Good company is enjoyable. These things are simple, pure, and we all have access to them, but we don't all appreciate them. One of the keys to happiness is appreciating basic human goodness when you encounter it.
Today, I listened to music and stretched out in the park. It was such a gorgeous spring day, hot enough to walk around almost naked. And so I did.
Then, full-bellied, and warm-skinned, I finally figured out how to record from my turntables into my computer. I went to RobotSpeak (an electronic music store here in SF) and asked the guys for some help and advice. They actually told me to go with GarageBandthe sound is pretty good, they said, and its great software for beginners. They sold me two cables, and when they were $2.30 shy of having change for the bill I gave them, I asked them to just give me a beer instead. They did. Now, thats doing business.
I know what most of you are thinking.
No, not that part, I mean the part about me . . . actually, not that part either (damn!) what I mean is the part where you think, pssht. he call himself cklarock, but does he rock?
Well, yes, I do, fucker.
Do you require proof?
A practice session from this afternoon. About a half hour or so, 35 MB mp3.
^ This is why my house-mates either love or hate me. This is what you hear through the thin walls of my room. No sex sounds, no loud video games, just scratching and beats. So there you go, SG, now you can feel like youre living next door to me. I kind of fucked it up at the end, but shh . . . she dont have to know.
This isnt a finished anything, just me pulling some records and getting <whatever the next step down from busy is>.
House party style. Its kind of sloppy and loose, just like sex with your mama.
In that book he talks about this concept of basic human goodness. The way I've parsed it out is that basic human goodness involves those things that are just universally and intrinsically good to all people, in all times. Sunshine on the skin feels good. Babies smell good. Food is nourishing. Good company is enjoyable. These things are simple, pure, and we all have access to them, but we don't all appreciate them. One of the keys to happiness is appreciating basic human goodness when you encounter it.
Today, I listened to music and stretched out in the park. It was such a gorgeous spring day, hot enough to walk around almost naked. And so I did.
Then, full-bellied, and warm-skinned, I finally figured out how to record from my turntables into my computer. I went to RobotSpeak (an electronic music store here in SF) and asked the guys for some help and advice. They actually told me to go with GarageBandthe sound is pretty good, they said, and its great software for beginners. They sold me two cables, and when they were $2.30 shy of having change for the bill I gave them, I asked them to just give me a beer instead. They did. Now, thats doing business.
I know what most of you are thinking.
No, not that part, I mean the part about me . . . actually, not that part either (damn!) what I mean is the part where you think, pssht. he call himself cklarock, but does he rock?
Well, yes, I do, fucker.
Do you require proof?
A practice session from this afternoon. About a half hour or so, 35 MB mp3.
^ This is why my house-mates either love or hate me. This is what you hear through the thin walls of my room. No sex sounds, no loud video games, just scratching and beats. So there you go, SG, now you can feel like youre living next door to me. I kind of fucked it up at the end, but shh . . . she dont have to know.
This isnt a finished anything, just me pulling some records and getting <whatever the next step down from busy is>.
House party style. Its kind of sloppy and loose, just like sex with your mama.
VIEW 16 of 16 COMMENTS
I was born in Japan, but grew up near Fresno in a fiercely religious town called Kingsburg (which, surprisingly enough, Sophie knows well). I uprooted myself from my conservative home and moved to San Diego for college where I was introduced to reggae by the hordes and hordes of hippies that inhabit the city. Honestly, I hated the stinky bastards, the patchouli, and that damn reggae music.
Then a curious thing happened.
Seven years later I moved to San Francisco where I endured the Worst Year of My Life. I was lonely and generally unhappy and miserable with myself. And lonely. And generally unhappy and miserable with myself. It was during this period that I found myself first missing, and then comforted by, the sweet and tender sounds of raggae music. It reminded me of the home I'd left behind with all the stinky hippies I had, by then, come to love. I found great joy in the melodies of Saint Marley and the almighty Jah.
So, that's a long answer to a short question but I love raggae. A new mix would be rad!
[Edited on Apr 06, 2005 12:42PM]
MOST HUMBLING MOMENT: Finding out that chicks don't dig it when you use rhinestones to spell "PLAYBOY NINJA" on your fanny pack. How the fuck was I supposed to know?
Dude, that's Fn' funny!
[Edited on Apr 06, 2005 5:32PM]