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Showing posts with label observation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label observation. Show all posts

Monday, March 13

The importance of classical music education.

Oftentimes, 

I’m issued an obscure, yet demanding task - to contend against invisible adversaries who speak down towards me, in my mind. Far be it from me to feign the belief of that everyone can understand my plight, and dilemma, yet I feel that there is a strong subset demographic operating amongst us, who secretly, and intently, contribute to this obfuscation of the facts (plus more), as singular, or collective, remote sensing interlopers. 

On one hand, some contingent factors must be kept in mind, at all times - one of them, is the understanding, and expectation of that not “everyone,” per se, would reasonably be included within any off-hand remote sensing event, or experience. In other words, it’s important that observants, subjects (of focus), and or participants in remote sensing occurrences keep the potential for grandiosity to flourish in check. Similarly, I commonly observe that some participants, in remote sensing events, at times, brazenly disregard the genera public, and the potential for their communications and participation to fall upon unintended audiences’ “ears,” or, more rightly, their “minds,” since these are aural experiences, perceptually, yet they can not be recorded, via conventional technology means, at least, at the consumer level, at this point in time (March, 2023). 

Other considerations aside, what a tragedy it is, that many people are wrongfully wrought up, in to cult-like sects of sadistic ritual abusers. It’s an unimaginable travesty. 

Rather than focus on this type of occurrence, as a phenomenon, I’d rather maintain objectivity, and rationality, yet the aforementioned dilemma largely prefaces my current underlying circumstances in life, as I find writing to be a self- and identity-affirming practice, through the process of composition, in and of itself, and I largely only get around to writing, textually, these days, although I do make some small gains, here and there, for upcoming and developing musical projects and works to be derived, later on, from future practice and learning, within a musical context. 

Music is truly one of the fundamental intelligences; to be certain (although, this is a time in which shoddy journalistic and publishing practices dominate former standards in intelligence; therefore, valid information of our youth’s learning and education becomes much more of a challenge to discover, for reference, on the internet). Recent seminal works had documented musical intelligence as one of the 9 primary areas of intelligence, for example. We must not diverge our resources available to us, and cast them to the wind, so to speak, by allowing inferior intelligence streams, whether it be our own search patterns, on the internet, or through our news feeds. Yet, this being the case, it’s somewhat all a fluke, given that musical intelligence is something of various forms of virtue - hand-eye coordination, memory and recall plays a significant role in performing and in thinking about music, fine motor muscle skills are developed, through musical training, and musical practice assumes a disciplined lifestyle and household, to at least some degree, in order for musical learning to take place, and take hold, in the mind. 

Much of many people’s discontent and “acting out,” which I find to be prevalent, in my most near-to-me proximity (or, for that matter, as commonplace, in my remote sensing event occurrences, lately) border upon suggestions of modeling of society, itself, now, as an anarchistic domain, to become developed. Are we in our end times, for the sake of a lack of trying to do better? There’s very much a large helping of apathy, amidst discontent, whereas music, whether it be experiencing live or recorded musical pieces, or through practicing and playing music, oneself, both in solitude, and amongst others of a musical inclination. There seems to be so much detrimental, in attitudes about society at large, as a suitable “victim” for one’s own inequities and shortcomings, in life, whereas, I feel that music would fulfill that gap, and need, in life, which we all have, and that being said, it is a blessed offering to ourselves, our wellbeing, and for others. 

Monday, January 9

Lifestyles of the group home (transitional) transients - freon-huffing, post-cloudz 🤯

 Man, oh, man, these housemates of mine really pop off, for the start of a day - a workweek Monday, for that matter.

Having spent some years in transitional living homes, after doing some time, immemorable, of some form, around the time I was evicted from my Section 8 apartment, for excessive crumbs and knickknacks crumbs and knickknacks awrr rawr rawr, I’d (fearfully so) had become acquainted with some transient group home types, much more down to home and in-my-face, err, (some other) mental health detriment, some other personality disorder. 

That being said, I do have some reasonably good and well-read psychology chops, so I commonly moonlight as a public health operative, out in the field, or, at home, much the same - that is, to say, that these demographics are much like common folk who are out and about, and I hear that many of them are equitably to be found in sober living home settings; it’s a certain branch off-shoot of that lifestyle and placement, by public and mental health, as well as social service and local government organizations. 

This is transitional living.

I’ll keep it short, and to the point - these folks share their knowledge base and resources, however well-resourced, somewhat fairly freely, amongst each other, and, in my case, they find me the “gay” one - the one to pick on, for being well-groomed, well-dressed, clean cut, etc., so they direct a significant amount of inappropriate attention towards me, once I leave home, to head out, and feed the pigeons, for my work day, or, perhaps, they do it somewhere off in the periphery. 

But anyways, this is the memo. The drama, of an ongoing nature, I’ve come to (re-)discover, through “hearing” stuff - something along these lines, I’ll say, tantamount to a strong air-pressure leakage, from a holding tank, perhaps of a commercial, rather than personal, -sized tank, such as for Freon tank refilling, or installation. 

Essentially, it seems to allow for the users to become exotically more so euphorically intoxicated, with blissful renditions upon life, at a strange hour, in life, (comparatively), such as perhaps just prior to 8 a.m., through 9:30 a.m., or so. I did “similarly,” yet not “huffing” stuff(-ly) so, types of things, back in college, when I had a girlfriend, but I was, comparatively, embarrassed, when I realized that my neighbor could hear me, from across the way. 



Tuesday, July 24

On: the thrust that would power a colony moving to outer space. From Twitter.com/jay_ammon

Substituently:upon coming across Volatility in any commerce of situation, a crouch, wings-to-the-hind-being backwards thrust, to flying muscles-development aesthetic Grecian urn lifter athleticism is a multivariate grounding and considerate act to invoke. I came upon this notion while trying to archive for usage:attenuation of convolution reverb impulse responses (IRs; audio engineering) on an early morning and I witnessed, of continuous South LA Jet Stream aeroplane engine vast chaos of granular noise; the thrust that was slow-moving, compared to a jet-engine, but this thrust was a thrust that didn't have an arc to it, and it would likely power the jaunt-enterprise-extra-terrestrial into outer space, with how thrust it was moving. That would be a lot of Grecian urn lifts. The scalar-offset-dynamic thrusts of the torso and limbs is a particularly challenging and virtuous movement exercise; essentially forming the body's inertial momentum into what might aught be instability or par-stituęvaitre energetic arrête for the surrounding environment. It's very obvious when the movement fails to balance itself and fit, physiognomically within a 1:1 or similar ratio of just and slight variance; what kind of battery would the thrust exercise movement power of the individual? Then I heard, allegorically ad hoc, that all massive industrial enterprise apparatus are run entirely upon human power, in order to be properly sustainable energy and valid worth in a competitive world power economy. I was so intent on blogtastic'ing about [something...] I can't entirely relate, after the days-spent awake in crisis amongst people around me, based on auf of such fluff sociopathic small-enterprise sociopath per-donnez-vraít, just seething "how white/Chinese/faggot he is; Jay." That was the gist of the long story blog entry; it hasn't gone up yet, in favor of more valid Pigeon-TasTasTic content arrete into molecular dynamics of storage devices, alphanumerical I/O fluffboy Au Ff new boy triste pwn psycho-autonomy practices, for serious professional takes as the stenographer's dicta tech psy-tripedenienne aux les valid passable dendrites of non-constituency demographic of unh-uhh... the stenographer...? Someone's on it wtf panshitsicles triste tri-state murderer au psychopathic acute axis 1 crisis demography, etc. Somebody is delimiting the ratio:to:faggot AF triste dendritis-tristecles gallon of milk/per day dieting, no romantic consideration about shitsicles AF trifle-poof-AF shit out the ass, and the ionic gaseous internals to deal with proximity jaunt - for athleisure bums Lifestyle And then, ... gallon of milk / per day and then walking through skid row? That's some valid proximity fluffboy tastastic new shit of a materials/trash/recyclables jaunt tech-and-lifestyle blogtastic array of considerable molecular and all sorts of arretic substituent organisme although most people are okay with a fashionable bum athleisure technical institute jaunt, for all-purpose fuckboytastastic class class class class classic AF jaunt, ... like a real one. The significant takeaway on the topic is that thrill-seekers are constantly fraught with a debt of resource misallocation and thievery of the Nuclear molecular energy {STEM} materials of raw periphery significant means of fletching the innards and worth of the localities:we exist. The vast bold Yukon divergent sociopath is simply a typically "can't help this person well and properly enough" to make the individual fit into society and communicate the forensic dendritic fluff past Freudian imperative cautionary stance, beyond the stats-rated fluff personae of the fluffboy-tastastic Los Angeles classically national historical heritage establishment au triste compatriot ... So much fluff AF considerable college years to discourse validity about, this is civilian life, to be real. But in compete:for nutritional intake, I do fluff off vast yukons of data science periphery and valid nepotism of executive's fluff of so many coteries of fluffboy-tastastic meaty burgers - of course I could do a jack in the box receipt survey jaunt on top of a jumbo jack jaunt: for a bum laid out on the streets, Pigeon-TasTasTic fluff demographic, for burgers? It's a fashionable bum-charity-lifestyle destination that exceeds distributing edible validated garbage au garbage: retail bisték-grilled meat: for a bum. That's how Freudian it gets. {Me}

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