Detective Englissh and the Case of the House of Grass: Epigraph

"It is taught: R. Johanan b. Zakkai said: What answer did the Bath Kol give to that wicked one, when he said: I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the Most High? A Bath Kol went forth and said to him: O wicked man, son of a wicked man, grandson of Nimrod, the wicked, who stirred the whole world to rebellion against Me by his rule. How many are the years of man? Seventy, for it is said: The days of our years are threescore years and ten, or even by reason of strength fourscore years. But the distance from earth to the firmament is a journey of five hundred years, and thickness of the firmament is a journey of five hundred years, and likewise the distance between one firmament and the other. Above them are the holy living creatures: the feet of the living creatures are equal to all of them together; the ankles of the living creatures are equal to all of them; the legs oft the living creatures are equal to all of them; the knees of the living creatures are equal to all of them; the thighs of the living creatures are equal to all of them; the bodies of the living creatures are equal to all of them; the necks of the living creatures are equal to all of them; the heads of the living creatures are equal to all of them; the horns of the living creatures are equal to all of them. Above them is the throne of glory; the feet of the throne of glory are equal to all of them; the throne of glory is equal to all of them. The King, the Living and Eternal God, High and Exalted, dwelleth above them. Yet thou didst say, I will ascend above the heights of the clouds, I will be like the Most High! Nay, thou shalt be brought down to the nether-world, to the uttermost parts of the pit."

Unsquare Dance

Unsquare Dance implodes into a black hole of total squareness.

As far as I can tell, this is from an Australian variety program called the Digby Wolfe Show; probably filmed in 1961.

Martial Solal

Blake/Aubudon

Nebuchadnezzar's Wisdom

Just a goose engaged in some mystical contemplation

Joyeux Noel!

It's that Christmassy time of year, and there's no better season for hallucinatory biblical ecstasies.



I think back to that night. It must have been twelve years ago today that I saw the thing.

I looked from my window to see the falling snow and I saw two dogs there, standing on two legs (I thought) - - ashpit black, with their purple tongues sagging lazily out of their mouths - - emitting what, regrettably, can only be described as a 'doggish-hum' - - growling bass on the bottom and whimpering tenor on top, united by a monkish timbre and focus. And the more I listened, the more the hum began to resemble words taking on form and falling out through the whirlwind of sound.

It's a little cheesey, but I can't help but reproduce them here:

"Oh! Jerusalem! Oh, Nebuchadnezzar's wisdom
Failed him utterly. He broke the bone inside his head
And bled for days, and his face turned black and purple.
Oh, we saw him then. We saw, on Christmas Day,
He died by sharp, sharp teeth. Oh, what red meat God makes us."

To be continued...

Ch-Ch-Charlie Rouse Th-Th-Thelonious Monk Rhy-Rhy-Rhythm-a-ning

Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin on the Figpecker

"By far the most important of the small birds, because of its excellence, is the figpecker.
It grows at least as fat as the redbreast or the ortolan, and nature has moreover given it a slight bitterness and a unique flavor so exquisite that they seize upon, flood, and beautify every possible avenue of taste. If a figpecker could grow as big as a pheasant, it would be worth the price of an acre of land.
It is a great pity that this remarkable bird is found so seldom in Paris; true, a few arrive now and then, but they are completely lacking in the fat which constitutes their especial merit, and it can truthfully be said that they resemble but faintly those which are found in the east or southern parts of France.
Few people know how to eat small feathered game; here is the best way, as it was told me confidentially by Canon Charcot, a born gourmand, and a true gastronomer thirty years before the word was known:
Take by the beak a fine fat little bird, salt him lightly, pull out his gizzard, stuff him deftly into your mouth, bite him off sharply close to your fingertips, and chew with vigor: there will flow from him enough juice to fill your whole mouth, and you will enjoy a taste experience unknown to the common herd."