So after two weeks of "I'll update, I promise!", you get a ... short, non-journal blog. NO WAIT DON'T STAB ME TO DEA-
Self Esteem.
6 years ago
ASDFGHJKL;'
I was bored this afternoon, so I figured out how to play Trading Yesterday's Shattered on the piano. And I have to go cram Chemistry, so I'ma link and disappear.
AGH CHEM QWERTYUIOPShattered [YOUTUBE / MIDI / PDF (PIANO) / PDF (VOCALS AND PIANO)]
This song is based around repetition with buildup, so it was never going to work translated one-to-one onto piano. The fact that this isn't a straight transcription is the reason why one of the .PDFs has the vocal line: as a point of reference.
The "verses" need to stay subtle, so I jumped an octave for the second verse group of three, and left the rest as is. For the "choruses", I open with the vocal melody, move to the "yeah yeah" BGVs, then to the "lalalalala" BGVs that are only on the TBTT version of the song, followed by the piano/string theme. A jump in dynamics accompanies the "I'm waiting and fading…" BGVs only on the MTT version, then the song returns to the piano/string theme, and the "yeah yeah"s. The vocal melody is played twice to end the "chorus" section, with double octaves the second time. Then the outro. Woo!
Again, the .MID is only to show the notes; Finale Notepad handles dynamics horribly. Srsly. And I think there's an errant dotted minim rest somewhere. Apologies; don't know why it's there, and don't have time to figure out where it came from.
EDIT: Blagh, I forgot DH writes in nocaps. Finale's refusing to open (another strike against it), will fix later.
EDIT2: AND I forgot the dynamics at the end. Man this is not my day.
These people are creepy
First of all: 'GRATS TO LOUISE AND JORDAN! THE HSC IS OVER WOOOOOOO!
So, my IB exams have started and are presently going well. Three of fourteen papers (two of eleven sessions) are done, and all so far have been pleasantly straightforward. (That said, the exams I'm worried about — Chemistry, Biology and Geography — are in the next two weeks.) Pris, Flick, Jen, Sarah and Caely decided to vandalise some schoolpaper and pass it to me, and I've been ordered on penalty of death to post them, so, without further ado:
I always pick the strangest times for creative motivation. 've done more piano practice in the last week than I have in the last month. (Matt would pick this moment to call me weird. Don't listen to him.) With that and the steady progress I'm making on drawing faces, I'm in a good mood. Albeit a highly unmotivated one.
(Tangent: found a webcomic called The Phoenix Requiem yesterday (yes, yesterday). Great art, nice story. Recommended reading all around.)
I'd better get back to that English study. November 18th can't come soon enough.
Barnabas loves Theory of Knowledge
I've always been a crusader of sorts for Australian pronunciation and spelling.
For no good reason, mind you. Sure, back in primary school there was always the "right" and "wrong" way to spell. But primary school simplifies a lot of things into black and white. It would be more than difficult to discuss this sort of thing with hyperactive nine-year-olds, most of which had one too many cups of red cordial at recess. So we dumb it down. As my Chemistry teacher of the last two years puts it, we lie. In much the same way, we tell eighth-graders that electrons orbit the nucleus in nice, neat, fixed paths called "shells", because there's no chance in hell all of them will absorb any discussion of electron clouds, orbitals, and the fact that an electron is both a particle and a wave. Heck, chances are that that, my present understanding of electrons, is itself a lie. Or so my very brief discussions of quantum physics with Jordan suggest.
But I digress. Primary school passed, leaving behind a set of rigid spelling and grammar laws in my head, along with the idea that anything else is just wrong. Incorrect. Falsch. Another lie. And then year eleven came, and with it Theory of Knowledge. (Most. Relevant. Subject. EVER.)
The ToK syllabus divides the continuum of knowledge into what it calls "ways of knowledge": sensory perception, language, reason and emotion. (Bear with me, now.) It also acknowledges that these divisions are artificial, much like the boundaries between the colours of the rainbow. These are not discrete things. There is no place where you can draw a line and say that everything before it is red, and that there is no red beyond that boundary. It's a spectrum. ROYGBIV? A useful teaching tool. A good way to simplify things for those who can't grasp the next level. But, in essence, a lie. The only reason indigo is there is so that there would be seven colours, because seven is a cool number. (Essentially.) And what about the cyan that you can clearly see in rainbows? Etcetera ad infinitum. In much the same way, treating these ways of knowing as four discrete processes that interact heavily with each other, instead of four regions of a continuum, but essentially one thing, is useful for teaching.
And there I go, digressing again. My point is, when we studied language as a way of knowing, it was stressed that there is no "correct" way to spell. There is a way to spell which is deemed "correct" by particular portions of society (which often disagree with each other), but when it comes to absolute, objective correctness? No. Try to claim otherwise and you'll hear cries of You Fail Linguistics Forever. And in a few hundred years, that spelling? It'll probably be wrong. Just because "arse" was spelled "erys" back in Chaucer's day (sorry, first example I could think of. Go the Miller's Tale) doesn't mean you can use the latter now; people will just stare and ask you to explain. Not good communication. (Another digression: that isn't to say that uniformity of language conventions is a bad thing. Just think of the textbook eraser-rubber-condom confusion between Australians and Americans. Uniformity would reduce this type of confusion to virtually nil.)
So there is no "right" or wrong way of spelling. Or pronunciation, in much the same vein. Why crusade for the Aussie ways to do so? Because I want to. (Take THAT, reason.) Cultural sovereignty and all that. And that's all there is to it. So I diligently ensure that I use "colour", not "color"; favour "-ise" over "-ize", "-re" over "-er", and so on. Not that I bring that up if a friend asks me to proofread something. (Pedantry should be saved for the important things, like making sure your browser window isn't a pixel too tall. Oh yeah, also grammar.) And, as is inevitable with this sort of thing, I'm a hypocrite. I love the contraction "ain't". I think "y'all" is a brilliant solution to a stupid ambiguity. One thing I've never shifted on, though, is the pronunciation of the letter "Z". "Zed". Not "zee", you degenerate. "ZED".
Which is why today, when I was detailing the evidence for the existence of main electron energy levels and sub-levels, I was more than a tad surprised to hear my mind's voice use "zee". (Yes, that's the reason I'm writing this blog post. I've never denied that I'm a nerd.) So (naturally) I tried to figure out the rules I was subconsciously following.
And it turns out that they're ridiculously convoluted. Awesome. Spelling words out? Zed. Alphabet song? Zed. "Z" used as a symbol for atomic number? Zee. "Z-axis"? "Z-score"? "Z" as a pronumeral? Zed. Huh.
My subconscious evidently hates me.
In which I procrastinate
[Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pride to present to you the product of an uninspired evening: a 2 149-word series of digressions. You have been warned.]
Given my looming exams, I've spent a foolish amount of time tonight reading Websnark. That and the fact that I'm blogging probably indicate how procrastinationy (that's a word now) I'm feeling tonight. (Incidentally, CURSE THIS HEAT.) Note that these facts do not accurately reflect how nervous I am about the exams I have next week, for nearly three weeks.
Incidentally, if Jordan and/or Louise are reading this, I do hope that the fact that I'm having unhealthy amounts of leisure time isn't rubbing the difference in our exam timetables into your faces. Think about the fact that I'll be sitting through exams while you're relaxing! And/or that your summer break is (at least) two weeks longer!
This isn't really going to be a coherent blog post — in fact, it was going to be a tweet, right up until about three seconds into a swig of water shortly after my shower. (I was going to joke that that number wasn't pulled out of thin air, but one of the English texts I was revising today features a character possibly rendered obsessive-compulsive by the fact that his divorce essentially took him out of his daughter's life, so on second thought that falls into Dude Not Funny territory at the moment. Yes, this parenthetical comprises most of the paragraph — what of it?) Anyway, this is really more a quick succession of various digressions.
So, Websnark. Awesomely well-written, talks a lot about webcomics (do note that that reflects the authors' interests more than the conceit of the blog), what's not to like? I was going to place a link to a particular Crowning Post of Awesome (in terms of quality of writing) here, but given that that'll likely render the rest of this blog post unread, so it gets to go at the bottom instead. Bleheheheheheh. (As I think I've successfully trained Pris to complete this quote, she can do it for me. Bleck! Oh, wait. Dammit.)
I think I'm going to need to find a way to curtail my infovorous tendencies, though. (In-FOV-or-ous? In-FOE-vore-ous? There's a theory which suggests that when information is set in front of us, we're practically programmed to devour it all. Hence "infovore". This poses a problem with the advent of the interblag, which renders more information than we'll be able to process in our entire lives several keystrokes and/or clicks away.) What was I saying..? Oh yeah. My tendency to archive binge (that is, the ENTIRE thing, as happened with Questionable Content, Sam and Fuzzy and Scary Go Round, to name particularly long-running comics which I have read in their entirety) will prove downright dangerous when mixed with a blog mainly written by a dude who (a.) writes really well, and (b.) tends to write a lot. As in a lot. Case in point: he needed to submit a statement of intent to marry because his now-wife was from another country. A single statement would have sufficed; instead he submitted this. Oh, and (c.) said writer has been doing this since January of 2004. Anyway, it seems to be a good thing (for my free time this summer, that is) that I don't read the majority of webcomics about which he posts. Although the fact that he finds them good enough to write about may mean that I will spend most of this summer archive binging them instead.
Several short digressions that have sprung from that paragraph:
I realise posting this is, in a way, surrendering my Grammar Natzee licence, but what is the difference between "that" and "which"?
In spite of the fact that my favourite corruption of the word "internet" is "interblag", I find myself using "interwubs" instead most of the time. And, when the alternatives are taken out of a vacuum, "interwubs" comes out on top in funniness. Must resolve this issue. (Digression of a digression: curious that "interwubs" is absent from that xkcd. Was the term not around back in 2006? [Digression of a digression of a di—OK, I'm just messing with you. Did your face contort in horror?])
My inner Comma Party member of the Grammar Nazi parliament (yes that is a horrible extended metaphor and yes I am dropping grammar here deliberately for effect) twitches at "Oh yeah". 'Course, "Oh, yeah" just looks pretentious. Wait, that's half the reason why I am a Grammar Natzee. Hmm.
OK. Topic two. A bit of wangst ahead, apologies in advance.
You might have noticed that the register of this post is (as far as I can tell, anyway) significantly higher than my norm. (Although I hope that the tone isn't too far removed from said norm; a blog that isn't fun to read is a blog that isn't read, y'know?) Something that I've noticed about me — and something that I dislike intensely about me — is that in a good deal of my conversations in meatspace, I end up emulating the verbal mannerisms, so to speak — nonstandard tones, bits of vocabulary, et cetera — of one or more people I'm talking to. As in, beyond just being more snarky with people I know better and the like. Gratuitous examples of each follow.
There's a person I know who has a habit of ending regular sentences with a rise in pitch, instead of a drop, something most people reserve for questions. (This person shall remain nameless as no-one who reads this blog, as far as I know, knows them, and I don't want anyone to define them solely by this paragraph.) Unsurprisingly, this often makes the person seem very unconfident in what they say, and perhaps, with a little extrapolation, spineless. Not that they are either of these things. I caught myself emulating this in a conversation with them.
Second example won't be as awkwardly anonymous , as (woo alliteration) in this case I'm the only one that can come out looking bad. Term 4, 2004; first term of year nine. Extension plus two people were at Bigga for the infamous Pine Bluff camp. (Good times, good times. Who came up with Cardamon, again? Memory's saying Nish or Tam. Hmm.) I had been on good terms with Jordan for about a month (a by-product of actually talking to him. No, "GIVE ME BACK MY EFFING PENCILCASE/BOW/CELLO/CELLO CASE" doesn't count). Basically, my point is that I had known him (properly) for a short enough time that his nonstandard vocabulary stood out. And yeah, a lot of it worked its way into my own vocab. Which is fine, except I (according to the memory) began sounding a bit too much like him. This culminated when, at the top of an abseil in the Genolan Caves, something triggered the phrase "not cool, not cool". As in, I said it in unison with him. UNISON. Cue me feeling creepy, and, if my memory serves me correctly, cue him dropping said phrase from his own vocab. Ironically, the phrase sums up that moment perfectly. So yeah, not cool.
Interestingly, this isn't always the case. I've noticed that I don't do this with verbal mannerisms I actively dislike (hence the constant surliness I display around my brother which I am attempting, and failing, to remedy), nor does this happen (as far as I can tell) on IM. Which might make this Websnark-influenced elevation of register an anomaly.
In any case, this is one thing which I hope will diminish and die as I'm forced out of my comfortable bubble next year.
Topic three is thankfully pretty much wangst-free.
In an IM conversation (because "convo" just feels wrong in a written context outside of IM) with Jordan last week, I mentioned that the purpose of this blog has shifted somewhat. In my first post, I stated that I was recording events because I was sick of forgetting almost everything that happened in a given year.
Although the act of recounting does presumably reinforce an event in one's memory, my intent was to have a set of dated journals which I could reread to better recall a year. That probably won't be happening. I ended up on my second blog post ever a few weeks ago, and frankly, it was downright painful to read. It's like finding an old floppy with your homework from year two on it. (Yes, I have done just that. I have, amongst other things, a report on the digestive system of cows sitting on my hard drive. No, you can't have it.) Everything about it — phrasing, tone, heck, even content at times — makes you want to bang your head on the nearest wall.
The fact I feel this way about my posts of about eight months ago suggests that in eight months' time, I will have a similar response to this post. (I shudder to think of my future reaction to the first posts.)
Anyway, I think this is one of several factors which have led to a rather severe drop in enthusiasm towards this blog. My erratic update schedule notwithstanding, I did have constant "I need to set aside time to blog about this" moments for the first part of this year. Several things happened. The subject of this section, of course. Year twelve. And perhaps most importantly of all, Twitter.
Ah, Twitter. I joined out of interest shortly after taking note of the badge that Jeph Jacques has over at Questionable Content, and have since become all but addicted to the thing. (And dragged a friend into it along with me, who then proceeded to drag several of her own.) It's basically a microblogging service: whenever you have something you want to share, you can submit a 140-character "tweet" via computer or mobile phone, which then shows up on your profile, and the Twitter homepages of people who are watching you (ie. friends). Said people can then reply if they want, although it's considered bad form by some to carry out what are essentially IM conversations via Twitter. As an added bonus, if a person you're watching replies to a person you're not watching, that update doesn't show up on your homepage.
What Twitter presented to me was an opportunity to share any events of my day which I deemed notable, without devoting the hours I need for a blog post. (No exaggeration.) Net result is that I now tend to consider events tweetworthy rather than blogworthy, and when I do remember I have this blog, half the time everything I would have said has already been put on Twitter. Although Jordan has (correctly) pointed out that the archiving of tweets is pretty lackluster, the fact that I'm no longer intending to reread blog posts makes that a moot point.
Which brings me (in a hugely longwinded and distracted way) to the main point of this topic. In my first post, I said that wanted to post some musings about life, religion, ethics and similar topics here, something which, eight months later, I have yet to do. I don't think I ever grasped just how much time would be needed for such posts when I raised the idea: they'd essentially be a whole bunch in-depth Theory of Knowledge essays.
(Digression: this coming from the dude who loved ToK from the very beginning, and ended up essentially choosing it for his extended essay as well. Seriously, Theory of Knowledge has been one of my favourite subjects over the past two years, coming out just under German because it's hard to top a subject where the best thing you can do is chat. Albeit in a foreign language, but chat nonetheless.)
I presently have two potential topics sitting at the back of my mind: (1) profanity, and (2) judging people by their spelling and/or grammar. In order to save content for these future posts, I won't elaborate on the topics, although Jordan can rest assured that I should be settling on his side for the latter topic. Just.
In case you're convinced I'm just suffering from late night incoherence and can't possibly mean what those paragraphs seem to say: yes, I am intending to write essays during my post-high school break. On a subject which I never need to study again. I deny all charges of masochism.
It would seem that I have successfully procrastinated away the rest of the night, so I'd better get some sleep so I can get to the library early tomorrow and begin my penance. Here's the promised link to that awesome Websnark post. Fair warning: it's almost three times as long as this post has been (6 201 vs. 2 149 words). While totally worth it, yes, it's going to eat even more of your time; depending on your reading speed and available free time, you may want to schedule time for it or pretend I never linked to it in the first place.
Final digression: is it just me, or did the register of this post drop as I wrote it?
Incidentally, if Jordan and/or Louise are reading this, I do hope that the fact that I'm having unhealthy amounts of leisure time isn't rubbing the difference in our exam timetables into your faces. Think about the fact that I'll be sitting through exams while you're relaxing! And/or that your summer break is (at least) two weeks longer!
This isn't really going to be a coherent blog post — in fact, it was going to be a tweet, right up until about three seconds into a swig of water shortly after my shower. (I was going to joke that that number wasn't pulled out of thin air, but one of the English texts I was revising today features a character possibly rendered obsessive-compulsive by the fact that his divorce essentially took him out of his daughter's life, so on second thought that falls into Dude Not Funny territory at the moment. Yes, this parenthetical comprises most of the paragraph — what of it?) Anyway, this is really more a quick succession of various digressions.
So, Websnark. Awesomely well-written, talks a lot about webcomics (do note that that reflects the authors' interests more than the conceit of the blog), what's not to like? I was going to place a link to a particular Crowning Post of Awesome (in terms of quality of writing) here, but given that that'll likely render the rest of this blog post unread, so it gets to go at the bottom instead. Bleheheheheheh. (As I think I've successfully trained Pris to complete this quote, she can do it for me. Bleck! Oh, wait. Dammit.)
I think I'm going to need to find a way to curtail my infovorous tendencies, though. (In-FOV-or-ous? In-FOE-vore-ous? There's a theory which suggests that when information is set in front of us, we're practically programmed to devour it all. Hence "infovore". This poses a problem with the advent of the interblag, which renders more information than we'll be able to process in our entire lives several keystrokes and/or clicks away.) What was I saying..? Oh yeah. My tendency to archive binge (that is, the ENTIRE thing, as happened with Questionable Content, Sam and Fuzzy and Scary Go Round, to name particularly long-running comics which I have read in their entirety) will prove downright dangerous when mixed with a blog mainly written by a dude who (a.) writes really well, and (b.) tends to write a lot. As in a lot. Case in point: he needed to submit a statement of intent to marry because his now-wife was from another country. A single statement would have sufficed; instead he submitted this. Oh, and (c.) said writer has been doing this since January of 2004. Anyway, it seems to be a good thing (for my free time this summer, that is) that I don't read the majority of webcomics about which he posts. Although the fact that he finds them good enough to write about may mean that I will spend most of this summer archive binging them instead.
Several short digressions that have sprung from that paragraph:
I realise posting this is, in a way, surrendering my Grammar Natzee licence, but what is the difference between "that" and "which"? In spite of the fact that my favourite corruption of the word "internet" is "interblag", I find myself using "interwubs" instead most of the time. And, when the alternatives are taken out of a vacuum, "interwubs" comes out on top in funniness. Must resolve this issue. (Digression of a digression: curious that "interwubs" is absent from that xkcd. Was the term not around back in 2006? [Digression of a digression of a di—OK, I'm just messing with you. Did your face contort in horror?]) My inner Comma Party member of the Grammar Nazi parliament (yes that is a horrible extended metaphor and yes I am dropping grammar here deliberately for effect) twitches at "Oh yeah". 'Course, "Oh, yeah" just looks pretentious. Wait, that's half the reason why I am a Grammar Natzee. Hmm.OK. Topic two. A bit of wangst ahead, apologies in advance.
You might have noticed that the register of this post is (as far as I can tell, anyway) significantly higher than my norm. (Although I hope that the tone isn't too far removed from said norm; a blog that isn't fun to read is a blog that isn't read, y'know?) Something that I've noticed about me — and something that I dislike intensely about me — is that in a good deal of my conversations in meatspace, I end up emulating the verbal mannerisms, so to speak — nonstandard tones, bits of vocabulary, et cetera — of one or more people I'm talking to. As in, beyond just being more snarky with people I know better and the like. Gratuitous examples of each follow.
There's a person I know who has a habit of ending regular sentences with a rise in pitch, instead of a drop, something most people reserve for questions. (This person shall remain nameless as no-one who reads this blog, as far as I know, knows them, and I don't want anyone to define them solely by this paragraph.) Unsurprisingly, this often makes the person seem very unconfident in what they say, and perhaps, with a little extrapolation, spineless. Not that they are either of these things. I caught myself emulating this in a conversation with them.
Second example won't be as awkwardly anonymous , as (woo alliteration) in this case I'm the only one that can come out looking bad. Term 4, 2004; first term of year nine. Extension plus two people were at Bigga for the infamous Pine Bluff camp. (Good times, good times. Who came up with Cardamon, again? Memory's saying Nish or Tam. Hmm.) I had been on good terms with Jordan for about a month (a by-product of actually talking to him. No, "GIVE ME BACK MY EFFING PENCILCASE/BOW/CELLO/CELLO CASE" doesn't count). Basically, my point is that I had known him (properly) for a short enough time that his nonstandard vocabulary stood out. And yeah, a lot of it worked its way into my own vocab. Which is fine, except I (according to the memory) began sounding a bit too much like him. This culminated when, at the top of an abseil in the Genolan Caves, something triggered the phrase "not cool, not cool". As in, I said it in unison with him. UNISON. Cue me feeling creepy, and, if my memory serves me correctly, cue him dropping said phrase from his own vocab. Ironically, the phrase sums up that moment perfectly. So yeah, not cool.
Interestingly, this isn't always the case. I've noticed that I don't do this with verbal mannerisms I actively dislike (hence the constant surliness I display around my brother which I am attempting, and failing, to remedy), nor does this happen (as far as I can tell) on IM. Which might make this Websnark-influenced elevation of register an anomaly.
In any case, this is one thing which I hope will diminish and die as I'm forced out of my comfortable bubble next year.
Topic three is thankfully pretty much wangst-free.
In an IM conversation (because "convo" just feels wrong in a written context outside of IM) with Jordan last week, I mentioned that the purpose of this blog has shifted somewhat. In my first post, I stated that I was recording events because I was sick of forgetting almost everything that happened in a given year.
Although the act of recounting does presumably reinforce an event in one's memory, my intent was to have a set of dated journals which I could reread to better recall a year. That probably won't be happening. I ended up on my second blog post ever a few weeks ago, and frankly, it was downright painful to read. It's like finding an old floppy with your homework from year two on it. (Yes, I have done just that. I have, amongst other things, a report on the digestive system of cows sitting on my hard drive. No, you can't have it.) Everything about it — phrasing, tone, heck, even content at times — makes you want to bang your head on the nearest wall.
The fact I feel this way about my posts of about eight months ago suggests that in eight months' time, I will have a similar response to this post. (I shudder to think of my future reaction to the first posts.)
Anyway, I think this is one of several factors which have led to a rather severe drop in enthusiasm towards this blog. My erratic update schedule notwithstanding, I did have constant "I need to set aside time to blog about this" moments for the first part of this year. Several things happened. The subject of this section, of course. Year twelve. And perhaps most importantly of all, Twitter.
Ah, Twitter. I joined out of interest shortly after taking note of the badge that Jeph Jacques has over at Questionable Content, and have since become all but addicted to the thing. (And dragged a friend into it along with me, who then proceeded to drag several of her own.) It's basically a microblogging service: whenever you have something you want to share, you can submit a 140-character "tweet" via computer or mobile phone, which then shows up on your profile, and the Twitter homepages of people who are watching you (ie. friends). Said people can then reply if they want, although it's considered bad form by some to carry out what are essentially IM conversations via Twitter. As an added bonus, if a person you're watching replies to a person you're not watching, that update doesn't show up on your homepage.
What Twitter presented to me was an opportunity to share any events of my day which I deemed notable, without devoting the hours I need for a blog post. (No exaggeration.) Net result is that I now tend to consider events tweetworthy rather than blogworthy, and when I do remember I have this blog, half the time everything I would have said has already been put on Twitter. Although Jordan has (correctly) pointed out that the archiving of tweets is pretty lackluster, the fact that I'm no longer intending to reread blog posts makes that a moot point.
Which brings me (in a hugely longwinded and distracted way) to the main point of this topic. In my first post, I said that wanted to post some musings about life, religion, ethics and similar topics here, something which, eight months later, I have yet to do. I don't think I ever grasped just how much time would be needed for such posts when I raised the idea: they'd essentially be a whole bunch in-depth Theory of Knowledge essays.
(Digression: this coming from the dude who loved ToK from the very beginning, and ended up essentially choosing it for his extended essay as well. Seriously, Theory of Knowledge has been one of my favourite subjects over the past two years, coming out just under German because it's hard to top a subject where the best thing you can do is chat. Albeit in a foreign language, but chat nonetheless.)
I presently have two potential topics sitting at the back of my mind: (1) profanity, and (2) judging people by their spelling and/or grammar. In order to save content for these future posts, I won't elaborate on the topics, although Jordan can rest assured that I should be settling on his side for the latter topic. Just.
In case you're convinced I'm just suffering from late night incoherence and can't possibly mean what those paragraphs seem to say: yes, I am intending to write essays during my post-high school break. On a subject which I never need to study again. I deny all charges of masochism.
It would seem that I have successfully procrastinated away the rest of the night, so I'd better get some sleep so I can get to the library early tomorrow and begin my penance. Here's the promised link to that awesome Websnark post. Fair warning: it's almost three times as long as this post has been (6 201 vs. 2 149 words). While totally worth it, yes, it's going to eat even more of your time; depending on your reading speed and available free time, you may want to schedule time for it or pretend I never linked to it in the first place.
Final digression: is it just me, or did the register of this post drop as I wrote it?
Green and white
(So evidently when I say ‘I'll try to get [a new post] up sometime next week’, it means ‘I’ll procrastinate as much as normal, and make the deadline with hours to spare’. Go me.)
In any case, three guesses as to what this blog’s about. The number of times I’ve exhibited patriotism (ha) for Trinity Grammar on the whole can be counted on one hand (the music and language departments, though…), but yeah, this’ll be one of them.
So.
It’s strange, but the rest of the thanks-for-coming proceedings were a bit of a blur compared to the K-12 dinner. (Yes, Jordan, for reasons other than the fact I’m blogging about them a month later.) I guess the WUT YEAR TWELVE IS OVER shock wore off or something.
Friday of that same week, we had our house dinner. Everyone bar one showed up – which is in itself amazing, given our attendance record, and yet still only eight people (woo smallest house) – to an Italian/Australian place in Newtown; we had a great time chatting. It was equal parts sad and amusing to see a few of the guys drinking from under the table. Goooo 12 Wynn Jones '08!
The last week of term was nice and relaxed, with all assignments finally in. On that (the following) Friday, nearly all of year 12 turned up to school at 0700 so that we could head to the beach. Which, for some reason, was in the national park… I’d deliberately left my iPod in my locker, too. In the end, I got an unexpected amount of conversation in (another stab in the face of my introversion? hopefully), and my knack for playing music with my brain (finally) came in handy.
But in any case, screw that, I didn't go to the beach for the bus trip.
It probably goes without saying that we had great fun. Watching some of the guys carrying teachers into the water, carrying Yatty into the water, burying Matt in the sand (albeit badly).... And yes, Jordan got a few suss shots of me helping to write "TGS WAS HERE" into Matt's coffin. (Price of those photos is a seperate defenestration of Jordan from the top of the Founders block per second of viewing.)
Got back to school, sat through the valedictory assembly (which, unsurprisingly, is only slightly less boring when you know the people being named), got my 15 seconds on the stage (with our 'wonderful house captain', thank you Mrs Witheridge). Because seating of year 12s was one house per row, we, the smallest house, had practically a whole chair's worth of space between seats. Hilarious. (Similarly hilarious: only taking up half the stage when we assembled. For comparison, Jordan's house spanned the whole stage.)
After the assembly, we headed to the music block, grabbed some photos with the teachers, had a long chat, then bumped into the St Julians in compass court, and had a looooooooong chat. Darren joined us after a bit.
The valedictory dinner was perhaps the biggest blur of them all. We (ie. me and mum) turned up just as they started shepherding people to their seats, and then, um. There were speeches, good food (but small portions), grabbing photos with any teacher that knew our names, and egads it's 2230 already? Basically sums the night up. I have to say, seeing the whole grade in suits (smart casual) was amusing. Sorry, I mean, the whole grade barring Jordan. He can elaborate on that one.
There a few other relevant events of note since then. On the following Wednesday, we had a sort of Bible study farewell dinner at Haberfield. Again, great conversation, a few photos, swapping contact details, that sort of thing. Of particular note was an animated debate as to whether Muggers is an introvert (in spite of his protests, he isn't), and the food. Bish, the teacher who picked the restaurant, wasn't able to come because his son was sick, but he had arranged a sort of all-you-can-eat basic pizzas deal for us. Good food, but served very sloooowly. As in, 3 pizzas minute-1 slow. Given that we had a ravenous table of fifteen that amounted to one slice per half hour, two if you were lucky. We also weren't aware that drinks weren't included until we got the bill. (Seriously, $200 worth of soft drink? Aaagggghh.) But all in all, 'twas a great night.
The other thing: last week was speech day. Which meant two days of juggling revision classes with orchestra preparation. Given that I don't really have trouble understanding the various syllabi, I ended up going to four of six rehearsals (and thus two of six classes). Things came together nicely, and I think we sounded pretty okay at the final thing (hooray for being the first year in which we managed to play two pieces on a single term's practice!). The venue really sucked, though. I'm not gonna whine about it in much detail, but the acoustic, the PA, the heat, the lighting (it matters when the wind can't see the conductor)... A--, would not hire again. That and Luna Park really is a strange place for your last speech day. Ah wells. Good news is that the music department's looking in to hiring a proper hall for a performance of those pieces - Mars, the Bringer of War; and Finlandia - sometime next year. Needless to say, that would be awesome.
OK, I think I need to rinse out my mouth after all that reminiscing. Back to study for me, all the best to Jordan and Louise (who I hope are not wasting time on my incoherence right now), who are slogging their way through the HSC at the moment.
Peace out.
In any case, three guesses as to what this blog’s about. The number of times I’ve exhibited patriotism (ha) for Trinity Grammar on the whole can be counted on one hand (the music and language departments, though…), but yeah, this’ll be one of them.
So.
It’s strange, but the rest of the thanks-for-coming proceedings were a bit of a blur compared to the K-12 dinner. (Yes, Jordan, for reasons other than the fact I’m blogging about them a month later.) I guess the WUT YEAR TWELVE IS OVER shock wore off or something.
Friday of that same week, we had our house dinner. Everyone bar one showed up – which is in itself amazing, given our attendance record, and yet still only eight people (woo smallest house) – to an Italian/Australian place in Newtown; we had a great time chatting. It was equal parts sad and amusing to see a few of the guys drinking from under the table. Goooo 12 Wynn Jones '08!
The last week of term was nice and relaxed, with all assignments finally in. On that (the following) Friday, nearly all of year 12 turned up to school at 0700 so that we could head to the beach. Which, for some reason, was in the national park… I’d deliberately left my iPod in my locker, too. In the end, I got an unexpected amount of conversation in (another stab in the face of my introversion? hopefully), and my knack for playing music with my brain (finally) came in handy.
But in any case, screw that, I didn't go to the beach for the bus trip.
It probably goes without saying that we had great fun. Watching some of the guys carrying teachers into the water, carrying Yatty into the water, burying Matt in the sand (albeit badly).... And yes, Jordan got a few suss shots of me helping to write "TGS WAS HERE" into Matt's coffin. (Price of those photos is a seperate defenestration of Jordan from the top of the Founders block per second of viewing.)
Got back to school, sat through the valedictory assembly (which, unsurprisingly, is only slightly less boring when you know the people being named), got my 15 seconds on the stage (with our 'wonderful house captain', thank you Mrs Witheridge). Because seating of year 12s was one house per row, we, the smallest house, had practically a whole chair's worth of space between seats. Hilarious. (Similarly hilarious: only taking up half the stage when we assembled. For comparison, Jordan's house spanned the whole stage.)
After the assembly, we headed to the music block, grabbed some photos with the teachers, had a long chat, then bumped into the St Julians in compass court, and had a looooooooong chat. Darren joined us after a bit.
The valedictory dinner was perhaps the biggest blur of them all. We (ie. me and mum) turned up just as they started shepherding people to their seats, and then, um. There were speeches, good food (but small portions), grabbing photos with any teacher that knew our names, and egads it's 2230 already? Basically sums the night up. I have to say, seeing the whole grade in suits (smart casual) was amusing. Sorry, I mean, the whole grade barring Jordan. He can elaborate on that one.
There a few other relevant events of note since then. On the following Wednesday, we had a sort of Bible study farewell dinner at Haberfield. Again, great conversation, a few photos, swapping contact details, that sort of thing. Of particular note was an animated debate as to whether Muggers is an introvert (in spite of his protests, he isn't), and the food. Bish, the teacher who picked the restaurant, wasn't able to come because his son was sick, but he had arranged a sort of all-you-can-eat basic pizzas deal for us. Good food, but served very sloooowly. As in, 3 pizzas minute-1 slow. Given that we had a ravenous table of fifteen that amounted to one slice per half hour, two if you were lucky. We also weren't aware that drinks weren't included until we got the bill. (Seriously, $200 worth of soft drink? Aaagggghh.) But all in all, 'twas a great night.
The other thing: last week was speech day. Which meant two days of juggling revision classes with orchestra preparation. Given that I don't really have trouble understanding the various syllabi, I ended up going to four of six rehearsals (and thus two of six classes). Things came together nicely, and I think we sounded pretty okay at the final thing (hooray for being the first year in which we managed to play two pieces on a single term's practice!). The venue really sucked, though. I'm not gonna whine about it in much detail, but the acoustic, the PA, the heat, the lighting (it matters when the wind can't see the conductor)... A--, would not hire again. That and Luna Park really is a strange place for your last speech day. Ah wells. Good news is that the music department's looking in to hiring a proper hall for a performance of those pieces - Mars, the Bringer of War; and Finlandia - sometime next year. Needless to say, that would be awesome.
OK, I think I need to rinse out my mouth after all that reminiscing. Back to study for me, all the best to Jordan and Louise (who I hope are not wasting time on my incoherence right now), who are slogging their way through the HSC at the moment.
Peace out.
Deep dive
EDIT (20081010, aka Friday): Yeah, I promised I'd write today. However, spring allergies have rendered me unable to work all day, and left me in a foul mood, which I figure is less-than-optimal for writing about happy end-of-school proceedings. Sorry, I'll try to get this up sometime next week.
I've had Jordan, whose legendary spekking is about to be immortalised) poking me all week because of my glacial update pace. So this is ... [dramatic suspense] ... NOT going to be a proper blog post. Yet.
(200810031042) JoRdAn: u should blog more
(200810031042) Barnabas: I know
(200810031042) JoRdAn: like say before u forget
(200810031042) JoRdAn: say mabe a short one on UR LAST DAY OF SCHOOL EVER
(200810031042) Barnabas: I won't have forgotten [by] next friday, relax
(200810031042) JoRdAn: no
(200810031042) JoRdAn: valedictory dood
(200810031042) JoRdAn: just post stuff about it
(200810031042) Barnabas: I'll write one next fri
(200810031042) Barnabas: just takes too long to write the damned things
I will be devoting some time to drafting one on Friday. Until then...
I was messing around on the piano again today, and I had another go at reducing all of "Another side" (the music that plays during the Kingdom Hearts Final Mix secret movie). And failed. But my brother heard me playing the familiar tune and asked for sheet music. I don't deny that it's short and boring, but if you're interested, I uploaded it. The .MID is, as usual, an inferior reflection (which has no concept of legato, nor ritardando).
That said, if you haven't seen the cinematic from which this music hails, you should. Some of the best use of sound effects as music that I've ever heard. (For instance, I don't feel that the piece is complete without the "shoom" noise as the text moves about at the climax. It's not in the soundtrack.)
I was messing around on the piano again today, and I had another go at reducing all of "Another side" (the music that plays during the Kingdom Hearts Final Mix secret movie). And failed. But my brother heard me playing the familiar tune and asked for sheet music. I don't deny that it's short and boring, but if you're interested, I uploaded it. The .MID is, as usual, an inferior reflection (which has no concept of legato, nor ritardando).
That said, if you haven't seen the cinematic from which this music hails, you should. Some of the best use of sound effects as music that I've ever heard. (For instance, I don't feel that the piece is complete without the "shoom" noise as the text moves about at the climax. It's not in the soundtrack.)
In lieu of further content, here's a reason why anyone with a sense of humour should read Indexed: [original graph] [comments 1 2 3 4 5]Although I linked the full video, I couldn't get anything other than the piano/choir bits to work, so I used the awkward-sounding couple of bars used in Kingdom Hearts II to loop the music to skip the middle.
Also added some more (yes, even more) comics to the recommended reading, and finally put in a link to my Twitter account. Whoops.
See you Friday. (By which time I hope to have "Mars, the Bringer of War" OUT OF MY HEAD. Dadada dum dum dumdum dum...)
On the irrigation of sandpits
Last night was an "OH CRAP SCHOOL IS ALMOST OVER FOR ME" sort of moment.
We got a letter from the school about a month ago, inviting us to this year's K-12 (and also T-12, or 0-12) dinner. (I can't believe I tried to replace that "got" with "received". Stupid formal register required for essay writing.) Now, I'd always had every intention of going, until I found out the dinner was on the Tuesday of the very last week that assignments are due - that is, the IB requires the marks for all internal assessments - those not exclusively marked by examiners not in our school - to be submitted digitally by Friday, so that they can reply by Monday and say which ones they want sent to Cardiff for external moderation. (If the teacher is found to have marked too generously, every one of their students' marks go down, and vice versa.) So it wasn't just a matter of "hand it in by Friday", it was "teachers must have it marked by Friday". Which meant "hand it in by Wednesday" for a fair few teachers. Problem.
Long story short, after much dillying and dallying (I can't believe I just used "dillydally". I think I just crossed the line into codgerism) I figured, screw it; let's go.
So there I was last night, feeling immensely narcissistic (second time this year. I think this means something) as I stood in front of the mirror and tried to figure out if my long-sleeved shirt should be tucked in or not. First time I'd been to a function that explicitly required a level of dress, too. Smart casual, in this case. Which, incidentally, doesn't mean "neat jeans and an unoffensive tee". I wish. Long button-down shirt, dress trousers and loafers. My lack of non-school uniform dress pants and my owning only two pairs of shoes - sneakers and black dress shoes - meant that I went in black jeans and said dress shoes instead.
But I digress. We turned up to the Prep, had a look around the building that's been built over the basketball courts and lawn since we (we, year 12 2008) had left, and hung out until dinner, where Nick and I got a chance to chat with our Transition teacher, Mrs Gunter. (It used to be "Kindergarten" = essentially day care, and "Transition"= what most schools call Kindergarten. They've since become "Pre-kindergarten", and "Kindergarten".) Meant a lot to me, as I joined Trinity in that year, 1996. I had been looking forward to doing so, but hadn't taken into account that we'd be speaking adult-to-adult now (well, adult-to-non-infant). Certainly was interesting. And entertaining! She would be an insanely popular high school teacher. I paraphrase (because sadly, my memory isn't that good):
I find it immensely interesting that I spent most of the night hanging out with my close friends at the Prep, rather than my current close friends (well, singular. Sorry, Jordan). Nick, Deacon, Matt... Wonder why that was the case; presumably it wasn't just because I can't reminisce about the prep with Jordan. Well, we were in the same year 2 class (amazingly), but I have no memory of ever speaking with him. And he left for Kings (TRAITOR) at the end of that year.
Aside: I still find it funny that he managed to come to the dinner. Apparently the topic came up in his interview with the Headmaster, who then personally invited him. So, at the K-12 dinner, we also had T-12, and one K-2, 7-12. Good stuff.
After toasts by our year 3 coordinator, Ms Brown, and present vice-captain of the senior school Virosh, we headed back to the building which housed K-2. (Uh, PK-2 now.) Because virtually drowning in nostalgia is cool, y'know? Not to mention we'd never pass up the chance to turn up our noses at any new changes to the building and be generally codgerish. (Yes, that's a word. It's a word now, anyway.) A few highlights:
And secondly, the Prep was the first place I ever encountered a common misspelling of my name: "Barnabus". At least, my first memory of this misspelling is at the Prep. To then have this greet me on my way in, then, was downright hilarious. I happened to have a pen in my pocket, so I did correct it, but for the first time, this particular mistake didn't leave me annoyed, or amusedly annoyed - just amused.
Apologies for this post being long, rambly, and sickeningly nostalgic. But I have to admit, I think I wrote this more for me than for any other reader.
We got a letter from the school about a month ago, inviting us to this year's K-12 (and also T-12, or 0-12) dinner. (I can't believe I tried to replace that "got" with "received". Stupid formal register required for essay writing.) Now, I'd always had every intention of going, until I found out the dinner was on the Tuesday of the very last week that assignments are due - that is, the IB requires the marks for all internal assessments - those not exclusively marked by examiners not in our school - to be submitted digitally by Friday, so that they can reply by Monday and say which ones they want sent to Cardiff for external moderation. (If the teacher is found to have marked too generously, every one of their students' marks go down, and vice versa.) So it wasn't just a matter of "hand it in by Friday", it was "teachers must have it marked by Friday". Which meant "hand it in by Wednesday" for a fair few teachers. Problem.
Long story short, after much dillying and dallying (I can't believe I just used "dillydally". I think I just crossed the line into codgerism) I figured, screw it; let's go.
So there I was last night, feeling immensely narcissistic (second time this year. I think this means something) as I stood in front of the mirror and tried to figure out if my long-sleeved shirt should be tucked in or not. First time I'd been to a function that explicitly required a level of dress, too. Smart casual, in this case. Which, incidentally, doesn't mean "neat jeans and an unoffensive tee". I wish. Long button-down shirt, dress trousers and loafers. My lack of non-school uniform dress pants and my owning only two pairs of shoes - sneakers and black dress shoes - meant that I went in black jeans and said dress shoes instead.
But I digress. We turned up to the Prep, had a look around the building that's been built over the basketball courts and lawn since we (we, year 12 2008) had left, and hung out until dinner, where Nick and I got a chance to chat with our Transition teacher, Mrs Gunter. (It used to be "Kindergarten" = essentially day care, and "Transition"= what most schools call Kindergarten. They've since become "Pre-kindergarten", and "Kindergarten".) Meant a lot to me, as I joined Trinity in that year, 1996. I had been looking forward to doing so, but hadn't taken into account that we'd be speaking adult-to-adult now (well, adult-to-non-infant). Certainly was interesting. And entertaining! She would be an insanely popular high school teacher. I paraphrase (because sadly, my memory isn't that good):
Well, I'm taking colours soccer now, so, you know, I'm lucky if I can get them to recognise the ball at thirty paces and have the teams go *shoom* [hand gestures for a forward-left-diagonal movement] or *shoom* [forward-right], rather than *blurg* [hands entangled].If you didn't know, "colours", or intra-school sports teams are those who didn't make it into an inter-school team. So at younger years... well, my old teacher put it better than I ever could have. But as I said to Nick after she headed back to her table, that sort of conversation would have been absolutely unthinkable twelve years ago, or even eight years ago, when we left the Prep[aratory, aka primary] school. It was cool beyond words to be able to chat to a person who taught me as tiny kid in the same way that I chat to people like my German teacher, Mr Lucas.
I find it immensely interesting that I spent most of the night hanging out with my close friends at the Prep, rather than my current close friends (well, singular. Sorry, Jordan). Nick, Deacon, Matt... Wonder why that was the case; presumably it wasn't just because I can't reminisce about the prep with Jordan. Well, we were in the same year 2 class (amazingly), but I have no memory of ever speaking with him. And he left for Kings (TRAITOR) at the end of that year.
Aside: I still find it funny that he managed to come to the dinner. Apparently the topic came up in his interview with the Headmaster, who then personally invited him. So, at the K-12 dinner, we also had T-12, and one K-2, 7-12. Good stuff.
After toasts by our year 3 coordinator, Ms Brown, and present vice-captain of the senior school Virosh, we headed back to the building which housed K-2. (Uh, PK-2 now.) Because virtually drowning in nostalgia is cool, y'know? Not to mention we'd never pass up the chance to turn up our noses at any new changes to the building and be generally codgerish. (Yes, that's a word. It's a word now, anyway.) A few highlights:
Two more things. I found two amusing ironies in the night. Firstly, at the Prep I was (and even now I remain) a total unco. I found it amazingly fitting, then, that as we were leaving the property, I walked into a low lamppost. (In my defence, I was walking backwards and chatting with Nick at the time.)Pre-Kindergarten play equipment is actually still there! I think one or two pieces have moved, but it's amazing to see that the stuff hasn't been replaced, given that I think every other set of play equipment has been. (Well, there were only two others back then to start with, BUT DOES IT LOOK LIKE MY ARGUMENT CARES?)
And secondly, the Prep was the first place I ever encountered a common misspelling of my name: "Barnabus". At least, my first memory of this misspelling is at the Prep. To then have this greet me on my way in, then, was downright hilarious. I happened to have a pen in my pocket, so I did correct it, but for the first time, this particular mistake didn't leave me annoyed, or amusedly annoyed - just amused.
Apologies for this post being long, rambly, and sickeningly nostalgic. But I have to admit, I think I wrote this more for me than for any other reader.
So creeped out
Well, not really. Was playing Pokémon Diamond for a bit, and ran into one Rancher Alton in the Battle Tower. Now, I do dislike the Rancher and Cowgirl NPCs the new generation introduced ("LAWL AH'M AN IGNORANT REDNECK! AWL FARMERS ARE LAHK THIS, KIDDO!"), but I couldn't help but find his battle-opening dialogue really, really creepy:
Little boy? Little girl? Doesn't matter which, let's do this!Or something to that effect.
...yeah.
Also, I saw my first enemy Ninetales a bit before kicking said Rancher's butt, and now I want one. Some of Diamond/Pearl's spritage really does suck, but this ain't one of them.
And I laugh at the Tower leader (I refuse to call him "Tower Tycoon") opening with a Regigigas. It's just asking to be set up on. Nasty Plot Azelf says hi! Agility Metagross says hi!
Said Metagross pulled three consecutive Meteor Mashes with attack boosts, too. Bleheheheh.
</geek>
Like a dog chasing cars
I should be writing and practising a German oral (good grief, YES, Firefox, "practise" is a word), but I need me some procrastination. And I can hear the groans already. Yeah, Batman.
So, last Saturday, I saw The Dark Knight with Jordan and Pris before Rice Rally. (She has a brief recount here.) And for some reason, the thing that stuck with me most was The Note. Y'know, that one distorted note which yells "the Joker is in control here"? So the day after, I fired up BitTorrent and nabbed the soundtracks of both Chris Nolan Batman films. Awesome, awesome listening. So much so, that when Pris said to me on Friday that she'd be going to the city tomorrow, and was I looking for any music in particular?, I asked if she could find either of those CDs. (Basically, I download CDs to see if they're worth buying.)
So, I now own two film soundtracks, both of which Hans Zimmer has contributed to in some degree: Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, and The Dark Knight (incidentally, the former is another great CD); And am hunting around for the soundtrack of Batman Begins. I'd say "dang, I feel geeky", but that's better saved for a recount further down the page.
It's weird, given the degree to which the two Batman soundtracks are ... atmospheric (rather than melodic), that they've been sitting in my various Now Playing displays almost exclusively for the past week. Took a while to get used to, and tracks like "Why so serious" are probably never going to make it into my main rotation - have a listen and you'll see why - but I'm still not sick of the music. I should mention here that I typically tire of an album within a week, due in part to a good ear and musical memory, so I guess the lack of prominent themes (the pointed near-total absence of a heroic I'M BATMAN theme, for instance) has been challenging for my ... learning, I guess, of the tracks. Although that said, the motifs of the scores are extrordinarily brief. The main theme (if you can call it that) of the films is just a drawn out minor third (D... F...), Gotham's theme (which I initially thought was Batman's theme, then Harvey Dent's theme... but I digress) is a six-note progression (F E D G, F E), and then there's of course the Joker's one Note. The slightly more lengthy piano motifs (in particular, Begins' Wayne theme, and what I think are Rachel's theme and a passage denoting death) are beautiful, but almost frustratingly short. Either way, it's a far cry from Pirates of the Caribbean's (at least) twenty-seven-note main theme.
I was going to mention an incident which makes me feel ridiculously geeky, but couldn't find anywhere in the admittedly nonexistent flow of this post, so it gets stuck here. I was rewatching Batman Begins last night, trying to pinpoint tracks on the soundtrack, identify musical themes, and so on. And got annoyed about the fact that the music which plays in the credits isn't on the soundtrack. Long story short, I eventually got hold of an .MP3 of said music, given the title "End Credits". Now, the track names of the Batman Begins soundtrack follow an odd naming convention - bat genera. Eptesicus, Myotis, Corynorhinus, Molossus, and so on. My inner neatness freak (which manifests when it comes to file organisation, particularly music, but not the state of my room) found this intolerable, so I looked up bat genera and eventually settled on Scotoecus. A friend I mentioned this to probably puts it best:
So, last Saturday, I saw The Dark Knight with Jordan and Pris before Rice Rally. (She has a brief recount here.) And for some reason, the thing that stuck with me most was The Note. Y'know, that one distorted note which yells "the Joker is in control here"? So the day after, I fired up BitTorrent and nabbed the soundtracks of both Chris Nolan Batman films. Awesome, awesome listening. So much so, that when Pris said to me on Friday that she'd be going to the city tomorrow, and was I looking for any music in particular?, I asked if she could find either of those CDs. (Basically, I download CDs to see if they're worth buying.)
So, I now own two film soundtracks, both of which Hans Zimmer has contributed to in some degree: Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, and The Dark Knight (incidentally, the former is another great CD); And am hunting around for the soundtrack of Batman Begins. I'd say "dang, I feel geeky", but that's better saved for a recount further down the page.
It's weird, given the degree to which the two Batman soundtracks are ... atmospheric (rather than melodic), that they've been sitting in my various Now Playing displays almost exclusively for the past week. Took a while to get used to, and tracks like "Why so serious" are probably never going to make it into my main rotation - have a listen and you'll see why - but I'm still not sick of the music. I should mention here that I typically tire of an album within a week, due in part to a good ear and musical memory, so I guess the lack of prominent themes (the pointed near-total absence of a heroic I'M BATMAN theme, for instance) has been challenging for my ... learning, I guess, of the tracks. Although that said, the motifs of the scores are extrordinarily brief. The main theme (if you can call it that) of the films is just a drawn out minor third (D... F...), Gotham's theme (which I initially thought was Batman's theme, then Harvey Dent's theme... but I digress) is a six-note progression (F E D G, F E), and then there's of course the Joker's one Note. The slightly more lengthy piano motifs (in particular, Begins' Wayne theme, and what I think are Rachel's theme and a passage denoting death) are beautiful, but almost frustratingly short. Either way, it's a far cry from Pirates of the Caribbean's (at least) twenty-seven-note main theme.
I was going to mention an incident which makes me feel ridiculously geeky, but couldn't find anywhere in the admittedly nonexistent flow of this post, so it gets stuck here. I was rewatching Batman Begins last night, trying to pinpoint tracks on the soundtrack, identify musical themes, and so on. And got annoyed about the fact that the music which plays in the credits isn't on the soundtrack. Long story short, I eventually got hold of an .MP3 of said music, given the title "End Credits". Now, the track names of the Batman Begins soundtrack follow an odd naming convention - bat genera. Eptesicus, Myotis, Corynorhinus, Molossus, and so on. My inner neatness freak (which manifests when it comes to file organisation, particularly music, but not the state of my room) found this intolerable, so I looked up bat genera and eventually settled on Scotoecus. A friend I mentioned this to probably puts it best:
(0231) Barnabas: Hmm. Geekiness is finding a name for a rip of the ending credits music which fits in with the rest of the album's naming scheme. Especially if said naming scheme is "bat genera". ¬¬Just felt like musing on that topic. Hopefully no brains have been liquidated by the inanity. If you have time, some awesome tracks off these two soundtracks:
(0232) Gobolt: >_>
I'd better get back to my discussion of globale Erwärmung. Joy!
Piano reductions!
An unproductive night and morning, coupled with my discovery that Finale needs a .PDF writer in order to export to .PDF, has yielded a piano reduction, and allowed me to save it and an older one in a file format that a regular computer can actually read. Hooray!
So, without further ado, the two pieces. Also links to Youtube, so if you don't know the song, you can have a listen, and a .MID taken from the musical score, if you want to know how I arranged it. And apologies for any Skydrive popups that bug you (but if they do, you need to get Firefox. Srsly.) Huh, I guess there was further ado. Never mind.
Also, the folder on Skydrive does have an RSS feed, but I'll post all my reductions here, so there shouldn't be any point in subscribing to it.
End transmission. Or something.
So, without further ado, the two pieces. Also links to Youtube, so if you don't know the song, you can have a listen, and a .MID taken from the musical score, if you want to know how I arranged it. And apologies for any Skydrive popups that bug you (but if they do, you need to get Firefox. Srsly.) Huh, I guess there was further ado. Never mind.
Bonus track from their 2005 album, The black halo. Note Finale Notepad (ie. the free version) doesn't allow for ritardandos, acciacaturae, or changes in tempo - I had to enter them as text - so the .MID doesn't reflect that. My workaround for a similar limitation can be seen on the last page. Bleh.
The song closes with variations on a repeated musical theme (original, four slight variations, original), and begins to fade out on the fifth iteration (or final variation). Obviously, you can't do this in real life, and it does get kind of boring about halfway in (for me as the pianist, anyway), so you might want to consider cutting it down to two iterations or so, then jumping straight to my tacked-on ending. Or something. I dunno.
I'm not sure if CutePDF Writer embeds fonts into its output files; if it doesn't, the .PDFs will look like gibberish. If they do, comment and I'll upload the fonts, and the .TIF export if anyone doesn't have privileges to install them.
Yeah, that band. I find this reduction pretty boring, myself, but you might disagree with me (although the song sure isn't). The outro is taken pretty much note-for-note from the song (barring the fact that I had to insert the string melodies somewhere), which I am happy with.
Also, the folder on Skydrive does have an RSS feed, but I'll post all my reductions here, so there shouldn't be any point in subscribing to it.
End transmission. Or something.
Of musical taste, causal inferences and bad handwriting
So I was woken (in typical B-style, at 1100 or so) by the sound of some very familiar lines on Saturday.
"Anakin is the father, isn't he? I'm so sorry."
Yeah, I don't know why I've managed to memorise those lines. Heck, I hadn't seen Revenge of the Sith since it was in cinemas! Soo, I dragged my butt out to the living room and settled on the sofa to watch the remainder of the film. (AKA the good bit. Yay fighting!) I have to say, III is definitely my favourite of the new trilogy. (YES, FLICK. NOT ONE. THREE.)
But in any case, in one of the final fights, and I won't say which, since one crazy person has yet to see III, I was pleasantly surprised to hear Duel of the Fates feature in the music as it grew increasingly epic. (Well, it phased out again, but you can't win 'em all. DotF is the main theme that plays in I when Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon fight Darth Maul.) For some reason, the theme triggers an internal "SQUEE" for me. (No, I am not a lizard at heart. Most of you didn't get that. Head this-a-way.)
I didn't think much of it at the time, until I started checking to see if I could download some Star Wars soundtracks later that evening. (I was looking for the music in III that features DotF, but it's not in the soundtrack! Laaame.) Getting to the point, Duel of the Fates is the first musical theme ('track' or 'song', if you will) that I can think of that I've liked (that isn't a hymn. Because that's all the music I ever heard growing up. In retrospect, that's probably a good thing, as I outgrew the bubblegum music stage in about three months). Which made me wonder if it's the root of my love for symphonic metal. (Best. Genre. EVAR.)
Thankfully, the questionable causal inference only lasted a few minutes. (And who says Theory of Knowledge is useless?) It could be possible that I already had the taste, and DotF was one of the first pieces of music I heard which matched this palate. Which is also questionable, as this taste would have supposedly grown out of hymns. (Seriously, it is a HUGE jump from Give thanks to DotF.) Maybe it was indeed the former, helped along by how friggin' cool Darth Maul is (was?), and the fact that the fight was brilliant? (This would also explain why the original trilogy's music didn't have the same effect. Although admittedly, I grew up watching those practically like other people would've watched Disney.)
Well, here conclude the thoughts of your friendly local raving lunatic. A few links and other thoughts before concluding:
Writing this up in Notepad++ was pretty awesome. Gotta love it highlighting your HTML for you.
I've killed the obnoxiously long recommended listening list on the sidebar, and stuck a link to my last.fm account there instead (The comics list has exploded in its place. Woo!). Same difference. Sadly, I can't scrobble because of my non-standard use of tags, but a list of bands is still present. Also sadly, Evanescence registers the most plays in my library, because it was the first band of those I still listen to that I discovered. And my tagging things as by "Kamelot & Amanda Somerville" and the like has warped those numbers anyway. Ah, well.
Noticed a new development in the devolution of my handwriting in my English exam this morning (Incidentally, this is the last unseen poetry commentary set by my teacher that I'll sit, and I loved every poem she chose. Heh). YES, I THOUGHT ABOUT BLOGGING IN THE MIDDLE OF AN EXAM. GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? *ahem* Anyway, it's summarised pretty well in the image below. And yeah, my capital 'Y's have turned basically into '7's. But I cross my '7's, so all's good. Over and out!
"Anakin is the father, isn't he? I'm so sorry."
Yeah, I don't know why I've managed to memorise those lines. Heck, I hadn't seen Revenge of the Sith since it was in cinemas! Soo, I dragged my butt out to the living room and settled on the sofa to watch the remainder of the film. (AKA the good bit. Yay fighting!) I have to say, III is definitely my favourite of the new trilogy. (YES, FLICK. NOT ONE. THREE.)
But in any case, in one of the final fights, and I won't say which, since one crazy person has yet to see III, I was pleasantly surprised to hear Duel of the Fates feature in the music as it grew increasingly epic. (Well, it phased out again, but you can't win 'em all. DotF is the main theme that plays in I when Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon fight Darth Maul.) For some reason, the theme triggers an internal "SQUEE" for me. (No, I am not a lizard at heart. Most of you didn't get that. Head this-a-way.)
I didn't think much of it at the time, until I started checking to see if I could download some Star Wars soundtracks later that evening. (I was looking for the music in III that features DotF, but it's not in the soundtrack! Laaame.) Getting to the point, Duel of the Fates is the first musical theme ('track' or 'song', if you will) that I can think of that I've liked (that isn't a hymn. Because that's all the music I ever heard growing up. In retrospect, that's probably a good thing, as I outgrew the bubblegum music stage in about three months). Which made me wonder if it's the root of my love for symphonic metal. (Best. Genre. EVAR.)
Thankfully, the questionable causal inference only lasted a few minutes. (And who says Theory of Knowledge is useless?) It could be possible that I already had the taste, and DotF was one of the first pieces of music I heard which matched this palate. Which is also questionable, as this taste would have supposedly grown out of hymns. (Seriously, it is a HUGE jump from Give thanks to DotF.) Maybe it was indeed the former, helped along by how friggin' cool Darth Maul is (was?), and the fact that the fight was brilliant? (This would also explain why the original trilogy's music didn't have the same effect. Although admittedly, I grew up watching those practically like other people would've watched Disney.)
Well, here conclude the thoughts of your friendly local raving lunatic. A few links and other thoughts before concluding:
Writing this up in Notepad++ was pretty awesome. Gotta love it highlighting your HTML for you. I've killed the obnoxiously long recommended listening list on the sidebar, and stuck a link to my last.fm account there instead (The comics list has exploded in its place. Woo!). Same difference. Sadly, I can't scrobble because of my non-standard use of tags, but a list of bands is still present. Also sadly, Evanescence registers the most plays in my library, because it was the first band of those I still listen to that I discovered. And my tagging things as by "Kamelot & Amanda Somerville" and the like has warped those numbers anyway. Ah, well. Noticed a new development in the devolution of my handwriting in my English exam this morning (Incidentally, this is the last unseen poetry commentary set by my teacher that I'll sit, and I loved every poem she chose. Heh). YES, I THOUGHT ABOUT BLOGGING IN THE MIDDLE OF AN EXAM. GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? *ahem* Anyway, it's summarised pretty well in the image below. And yeah, my capital 'Y's have turned basically into '7's. But I cross my '7's, so all's good. Over and out!
(Translation: because everybody loves marking essays in this sort of handwriting!!!1one)
In which I write too far much about an inane thing
I get the feeling that Twitter is robbing me of blog topics. I'm also getting annoyed with Twitter's 140-character limit. Solution: long tweets come here!
Hopefully this'll help me dust the cobwebs off this place. Not to mention that I'm not going to have time to write out and proofread those page-long blaggings in the next few months. Stupid matriculation exams. In any case, the eventual plan is to mix these shorter posts (imaginatively tagged "tweet"s) with the longer essay-like posts I've written previously.
All the better to bore the pants off you people! (Should get around to writing an Ode to the Imaginary Reader some time.) In any case, onward there be random musings.
I just realised the extent to which Epica's " Another me "in lack'ech" " bores me. (Heck, I had to check the spelling. And I can spell songs like Nightwish's "Kuolema tekee taiteilijan" off by heart. Yay for Application Of German Phoenetics In Inappropriate Situations®. Also yay for application of "correct" citations. Never going to be able to banish "short work, quotation marks; long work, italicise or underline" from my mind. The contents of these parentheses have spiralled completely out of control, therefore I am ending them now.)
...Where was I? Oh yeah. The song popped up on my main shuffled playlist a few minutes ago, and I was jarred when I heard a verse (bridge? Y'never know, with Epica) that I had absolutely no memory of hearing before. (It's near the end of the song and begins 'all that you've taken from others'. Incidentally, boring song, but the album it's from, Consign to oblivion, is pretty awesome. ...wait. I REFUSE TO LET THESE PARENTHETICAL CONTENTS MUTATE LIKE THE PREVIOUS ONE DID) It might seem like no big deal, but I memorise songs' melodies pretty easily, so it came as quite a surprise to me.
Anyway, this post brought to you by Boring Insights Into Barnabas' Life®.
Gratuitous end-of-post linkage:
Gunnerkrigg Court. 
Pretty awesome webcomic which I am failing to concoct a description for. It's plot-based, so you'll want to start from the beginning.
Dr McNinja. Superhero-spoof sorta comic that features a doctor, who is also a ninja. Woo!
(Eh. What I was going to confine to a 140-character tweet has mutated into a 212-word, 1 229-character couple of paragraphs. In a 397-word, 1 968-character blag post. Hooray!)
Addendum: And not twenty minutes after I publish this (hey, that verb makes this sound like something worth reading!), I find a similar segment in another song. One that I like, no less. Eh. In any case, I'd never taken note of the first bit of Leaves' Eyes' "Leaves whisper" before. And I thought I couldn't pay more attention to music. Another whole level of fanaticism opens to me!
Hopefully this'll help me dust the cobwebs off this place. Not to mention that I'm not going to have time to write out and proofread those page-long blaggings in the next few months. Stupid matriculation exams. In any case, the eventual plan is to mix these shorter posts (imaginatively tagged "tweet"s) with the longer essay-like posts I've written previously.
All the better to bore the pants off you people! (Should get around to writing an Ode to the Imaginary Reader some time.) In any case, onward there be random musings.
I just realised the extent to which Epica's " Another me "in lack'ech" " bores me. (Heck, I had to check the spelling. And I can spell songs like Nightwish's "Kuolema tekee taiteilijan" off by heart. Yay for Application Of German Phoenetics In Inappropriate Situations®. Also yay for application of "correct" citations. Never going to be able to banish "short work, quotation marks; long work, italicise or underline" from my mind. The contents of these parentheses have spiralled completely out of control, therefore I am ending them now.)
...Where was I? Oh yeah. The song popped up on my main shuffled playlist a few minutes ago, and I was jarred when I heard a verse (bridge? Y'never know, with Epica) that I had absolutely no memory of hearing before. (It's near the end of the song and begins 'all that you've taken from others'. Incidentally, boring song, but the album it's from, Consign to oblivion, is pretty awesome. ...wait. I REFUSE TO LET THESE PARENTHETICAL CONTENTS MUTATE LIKE THE PREVIOUS ONE DID) It might seem like no big deal, but I memorise songs' melodies pretty easily, so it came as quite a surprise to me.
Anyway, this post brought to you by Boring Insights Into Barnabas' Life®.
Gratuitous end-of-post linkage:
Gunnerkrigg Court. Pretty awesome webcomic which I am failing to concoct a description for. It's plot-based, so you'll want to start from the beginning. Dr McNinja. Superhero-spoof sorta comic that features a doctor, who is also a ninja. Woo!(Eh. What I was going to confine to a 140-character tweet has mutated into a 212-word, 1 229-character couple of paragraphs. In a 397-word, 1 968-character blag post. Hooray!)
Addendum: And not twenty minutes after I publish this (hey, that verb makes this sound like something worth reading!), I find a similar segment in another song. One that I like, no less. Eh. In any case, I'd never taken note of the first bit of Leaves' Eyes' "Leaves whisper" before. And I thought I couldn't pay more attention to music. Another whole level of fanaticism opens to me!
Never gonna live this down...
(Sung to the tune of a certain Rick Astley song, of course.)
I've been in a bit of a nostalgic mood this week, music-wise. As the title says, I'm never living this down, but I used to be a big fan of J-pop, the artist YUI in particular. I downloaded her new album a few weeks ago on a whim, and after a few listens, her stuff has made it back onto my iPod. Linkage ahead. (Crappy videos, though; don't bother watching.)
Laugh away 
Goodbye days
An artist I watch on deviantART designed the cover of an artist called General Fuzz's latest album. I was curious, so I had a listen at his site, and found his music pretty nice. Soothing instrumental background music-type stuff. It's all free for download, too.
Now, to balance that dose of happiness, Epica's collaboration with Roy Khan, Trois Vierges, had me take a look into the band he's in, Kamelot. Conclusion: WOW. Their music has made for productive piano reduction-ing, too. More linkage:
Ghost opera
Ghost opera
Love you to death
The black halo ( I want to link this entire album. Seriously. But then no-one'd bother clicking, so it pains me to choose the best of the best:)
When the lights are down
Abandoned
Moonlight
The school Sinfonietta and Big Band went on tour in Canberra and Wagga Wagga a few weeks ago. I'd been meaning to write about it in detail, but never felt like I had enough time... so here is a condensed recount!
The bus trips were long and full of bad movies.
Canberra is COLD.
Cello playing is difficult with frozen fingers.
Questacon! We got teachers on the freefall and in the guillotine!
Wagga is not so cold, and we got GREAT accomodation. 2 people to 3-man rooms (I don't know how the music department pulled that off), getting to eat in the hotel restaurant (which can actually cook food, unlike most camp places. Pork with non-soggy skin! Apple crumble that's actually tasty!)
I am so sick of the pieces we played now.
Go-kart racing! My tendency to ride the brake from driving regular cars landed me in a bit of trouble. And meant that I was beaten by every single staff member who raced. (Go Miss W! Go Ms C!) Heh.
Hanging out with Jordan, Darren, Jono and Oswyn was great fun. Also, hanging out with our awesome music staff (Respecting their privacy will make the next line or so a bit odd, but hey: Mr A, Ms C, Mr H, Mrs K, Mr P, Mr T and Ms W are some of the coolest teachers in the school.)
Finally, a few randomations.
I think I'm going to take a character I made for a text RP about a year ago, take him out of that RP's world, and write prose (or ideally, and wishfully, draw comics) for his story. After my matriculation exams, anyway. I'd say "stay tuned", but that means you'd expect results soonish. (2013! 2013!)
via via . I love Twitter.
BRAWL! Meta Knight is awesome fun to play. Just in case I have a reader not called Pris who has the game and internet, my friend code is 1547-6796-0737.
My brother is AWESOME, in spite of the fact that I don't treat him very well. Trying to fix that. The other day, he came home and gave me a pair of Mario shrooms. If I had a say in what's hung in the car, they'd be hanging off the rear-view mirror.
I've been in a bit of a nostalgic mood this week, music-wise. As the title says, I'm never living this down, but I used to be a big fan of J-pop, the artist YUI in particular. I downloaded her new album a few weeks ago on a whim, and after a few listens, her stuff has made it back onto my iPod. Linkage ahead. (Crappy videos, though; don't bother watching.)
Laugh away Goodbye days An artist I watch on deviantART designed the cover of an artist called General Fuzz's latest album. I was curious, so I had a listen at his site, and found his music pretty nice. Soothing instrumental background music-type stuff. It's all free for download, too.
Now, to balance that dose of happiness, Epica's collaboration with Roy Khan, Trois Vierges
, had me take a look into the band he's in, Kamelot. Conclusion: WOW. Their music has made for productive piano reduction-ing, too. More linkage: Ghost opera Ghost opera Love you to death The black halo ( I want to link this entire album. Seriously. But then no-one'd bother clicking, so it pains me to choose the best of the best:) When the lights are down Abandoned Moonlight The school Sinfonietta and Big Band went on tour in Canberra and Wagga Wagga a few weeks ago. I'd been meaning to write about it in detail, but never felt like I had enough time... so here is a condensed recount!
The bus trips were long and full of bad movies. Canberra is COLD. Cello playing is difficult with frozen fingers. Questacon! We got teachers on the freefall and in the guillotine! Wagga is not so cold, and we got GREAT accomodation. 2 people to 3-man rooms (I don't know how the music department pulled that off), getting to eat in the hotel restaurant (which can actually cook food, unlike most camp places. Pork with non-soggy skin! Apple crumble that's actually tasty!) I am so sick of the pieces we played now. Go-kart racing! My tendency to ride the brake from driving regular cars landed me in a bit of trouble. And meant that I was beaten by every single staff member who raced. (Go Miss W! Go Ms C!) Heh. Hanging out with Jordan, Darren, Jono and Oswyn was great fun. Also, hanging out with our awesome music staff (Respecting their privacy will make the next line or so a bit odd, but hey: Mr A, Ms C, Mr H, Mrs K, Mr P, Mr T and Ms W are some of the coolest teachers in the school.)Finally, a few randomations.
I think I'm going to take a character I made for a text RP about a year ago, take him out of that RP's world, and write prose (or ideally, and wishfully, draw comics) for his story. After my matriculation exams, anyway. I'd say "stay tuned", but that means you'd expect results soonish. (2013! 2013!) via via . I love Twitter. BRAWL! Meta Knight is awesome fun to play. Just in case I have a reader not called Pris who has the game and internet, my friend code is 1547-6796-0737. My brother is AWESOME, in spite of the fact that I don't treat him very well. Trying to fix that. The other day, he came home and gave me a pair of Mario shrooms. If I had a say in what's hung in the car, they'd be hanging off the rear-view mirror.
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