Tuesday, April 28, 2015

LOVE -- covers&originals by Paul Hall of paulhallart.

A collection on the topic of Love, such as "Lara's Theme" "Les Moulains de mon Coeur", "Perhaps" (by me), "Love Will Supply" (also by me along with a slide show based on my drawing "Don't Touch"), and so on ...



songs:



Love Will Supply (by me, Paul Hall of paulhallart), Window-Mind-Frost-Design (by me, Paul Hall of paulhallart), Love Will Win (by me, Paul Hall of paulhallart), "L'Amour Est Bleu" "Love is Blue" by Andre Popp and Pierre Cour, "Paper Roses" by Fritz Spielmann, "Lara's Theme" by Maurice Jarre, (a quadruple presentation of harmonica solos: "Love is Blue" [Popp], "Both Sides Now" [Mitchell], "Annie's Song" [Denver] and "Early Morning Rain" [Lightfoot]), Desolation Row by Bob Dylan, "Perhaps" (by me Paul Hall of paulhallart), "The Windows of your Mind" (by me, Paul Hall of paulhallart), "Tomorrow is a Long Time" by Bob Dylan, "Les Moulins de mon Coeur" by Legrand & Marnay.



The Windows of your Mind (are blue with winter frost).

WINDOW MIND FROST DESIGN, poem about windows of the mind, about minds clouded like blue frost on window, about mind clouded days without number, years without number, perhaps forever.  Poem about abundance or success not un-clouding the mind, poem about success causing blindness to danger, poem about youth, days of electric thought, loved ones causing preoccupation, pointing to career's end, bleak encounters, weary un-mending mistakes, the squanderer's victim's clouded mind, the heartless status quo, a frost designing murder's paradise.  It contains an unusual definition of an era of time thus: "when time was heart-beat's rust-red blood".  But the work also looks at an antidote: melting changeless with love.





I spent years in developing nations, pondering their situations, disturbed by the relative prosperity of the United States, uncomfortable in the disparity.  I discovered to my shock, that these developing nations, poor as they seemed, were actually doing better than the most developed nation.  America, it seems, should actually be hundreds of times more prosperous than it appears to be now and so should the rest of the world.  It's all held back by problems with the human mind.



Economics is a useful tool as long as it's users recognize that most of reality cannot be measured economically.  Human beings are not intellectually equipped to enumerate their existence.

        -

Let me explain that.  I remember as a four year old having a coloring book that had pages where there were dots.  When I drew lines to connect the dots the finished product was a very crude picture.  I soon realized that you don't get a very good picture by connecting the dots.  To get a real picture you had to make an effort to draw it.  All money can do is connect dots.  In reality a lot more is needed than that.

        -

Vision can get clouded by excessive economics.

        -

Economics will only work as long as you realize that it can only be an approximation or estimate.  So now I'm going to warn you of something, and I hope you realize that I'm not doing it off the top of my head (I was trained in information in the Army in the '60's and I then spent a good part of my life, over 20 years, traveling and investigating as much of the world as I could):  the developed world's preoccupation with monetary systems has caused it to choke off it's cultures, it's aesthetics, it's civilization.  The only way to make an economic illusion of everything measurable by money work is to revert to slavery.



lyrics:









Window Mind Frost Design



By Paul Hall,

Written in Paris in 1980

(c) (p) by Paul Hall, 1987



The windows of your mind

are blue with winter frost,

in days beyond horizons

or ever you got lost.

Abound and in abundance

Oh, how many times they've crossed.

But still you never noticed,

they're blue with winter frost.

-

When time was heart beat's rust red blood

and mingled with electric thought,

what soul once gave you all those smiles

for which your frame so bravely fought?

Ah, but now career's at queried end.

Your bleak encounters wandering.

Weary mistakes seem to never mend.

The wealth, whereborne, is squandering.

-

And blue,  BLUE, with winter frost.

-

The heartless status quo

is like a block of ice.

A frost designs the towers

of murder's paradise.

Take your heart beat's rust red blood

mingle it with love

Melt the frost of changelessness

like the spring time sun up above.

-

Melt it down with love

like the springtime sun above.

-

For the windows of your mind

are blue with winter frost.



Monday, April 27, 2015

Perhaps by Paul, the third of June, 1987, Caracas, Venezuela.

Perhaps when curtains lace the sky in sunset's purple robe

and all the coolness perpetrates your corner of the globe

or when the stars begin to shine

their stories for to tell,

You'll see a world you never saw 

twixt heaven and twixt hell.




The verbal referendum 

of the madness of the day

to the teaching of forever 

must soon or late give way

where Love relates it's secrets 

to the calm, who willing, hear

and the rose and violet sunset points to something to revere.




Drag not the daily madness

to your living room at night

where contrasts dull to flatness

in your artificial light.

For somewhere there waits for you

in the stillness out beyond

a lover in the twilight who can bring a lasting bond.




Hermetically they strip them down 

and comfort them with lies

of wealth and health and wisdom,

those who natural things despise.

And desolate and naked, 

the richest of them go

unto their wretched businesses and never will they know.



Desolation Row - Bob Dylan - (cover, Peruvian Pipes or pan pipes, by Pau...

Bob foresaw how the establishment was bent on keeping everyone so busy they would never have time to really have a life.  Except for those living in the privation of "Desolation Row".



lyrics:



They're selling postcards of the hanging

They're painting the passports brown

The beauty parlor is filled with sailors

The circus is in town

Here comes the blind commissioner

They've got him in a trance

One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker

The other is in his pants

And the riot squad they're restless

They need somewhere to go

As Lady and I look out tonight

From Desolation Row



Cinderella, she seems so easy

"It takes one to know one," she smiles

And puts her hands in her back pockets

Bette Davis style

And in comes Romeo, he's moaning

"You Belong to Me I Believe"

And someone says, "You're in the wrong place my friend

You better leave"

And the only sound that's left

After the ambulances go

Is Cinderella sweeping up

On Desolation Row



Now the moon is almost hidden

The stars are beginning to hide

The fortune-telling lady

Has even taken all her things inside

All except for Cain and Abel

And the hunchback of Notre Dame

Everybody is making love

Or else expecting rain

And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing

He's getting ready for the show

He's going to the carnival tonight

On Desolation Row



Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window

For her I feel so afraid

On her twenty-second birthday

She already is an old maid

To her, death is quite romantic

She wears an iron vest

Her profession's her religion

Her sin is her lifelessness

And though her eyes are fixed upon

Noah's great rainbow

She spends her time peeking

Into Desolation Row



Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood

With his memories in a trunk

Passed this way an hour ago

With his friend, a jealous monk

He looked so immaculately frightful

As he bummed a cigarette

Then he went off sniffing drainpipes

And reciting the alphabet

Now you would not think to look at him

But he was famous long ago

For playing the electric violin

On Desolation Row



Dr. Filth, he keeps his world

Inside of a leather cup

But all his sexless patients

They're trying to blow it up

Now his nurse, some local loser

She's in charge of the cyanide hole

And she also keeps the cards that read

"Have Mercy on His Soul"

They all play on penny-whistles

You can hear them blow

If you lean your head out far enough

From Desolation Row



Across the street they've nailed the curtains

They're getting ready for the feast

The Phantom of the Opera

A perfect image of a priest

They're spoon-feeding Casanova

To get him to feel more assured

Then they'll kill him with self-confidence

After poisoning him with words

And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls

"Get Outa Here If You Don't Know

Casanova is just being punished for going

To Desolation Row"



Now at midnight all the agents

And the superhuman crew

Come out and round up everyone

That knows more than they do

Then they bring them to the factory

Where the heart-attack machine

Is strapped across their shoulders

And then the kerosene

Is brought down from the castles

By insurance men who go

Check to see that nobody is escaping

To Desolation Row



Praise be to Nero's Neptune

The Titanic sails at dawn

And everybody's shouting

"Which Side Are You On?"

And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot

Fighting in the captain's tower

While calypso singers laugh at them

And fishermen hold flowers

Between the windows of the sea

Where lovely mermaids flow

And nobody has to think too much

About Desolation Row



Yes, I received your letter yesterday

(About the time the doorknob broke)

When you asked how I was doing

Was that some kind of joke?

All these people that you mention

Yes, I know them, they're quite lame

I had to rearrange their faces

And give them all another name

Right now I can't read too good

Don't send me no more letters, no

Not unless you mail them

From Desolation Row



Copyright © 1965 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1993 by Special Rider Music.

Copyright, music and lyrics reproduced by kind permission of Special Ryder.



Love is Blue, Both Sides Now, Annie's Song, Early Morning Rain (harmonic...

4 songs by  Popp, Mitchell, Denver & Lightfoot: Love is Blue, Both Sides Now, Annie's Song, Early Morning Rain -- cover with my C maj. Blues Band harmonica.  plus a slide show of original photography of Alaska.  something beautiful 4u.



I don't know if u ever get a chance2read this, but each of these songs have a MUCH different "connotation" for me.  Love is NOT blue at all, people who reject love are the blues element of love, and therefore not worth singing about.  Someone like Mitchell may THINK she's been2"both" SIDES now, nowhere near.  dear.  u been2a couple of measly facets of human gossipy totally false-fronted society sort of things, and that work, tho somewhat valid in certain ways, is way off base, complaining, and actually somewhat arrogant; a waste of the beautiful music Mitchel was on the way2composing....   Another case when the subject wasn't worth the song.  Annie.  where were you when John needed you?  It's the melody I cover, notice, not the words.  spoiled brats r not worth dying for.  I'd live to help them but they usually are way too proud for that.  And Early Morning Rain!  another beautiful melody and useful.  I sang it when I worked at Seatack Airport in Seattle and in a couple of years I was flying on those birds!  it's like that beautiful island off of Suva, Fiji.  I kept staring at it from Namandi Heights where Liem let me go to his place to paint my triptych (see MY love song "Figures of the Live" paulhallart) "... so near and yet so far"...  and in a little while, I was walking on that island taken their by total strangers in their motor boat.  See, Joannie, when you've been through a few of the deeper facets of life, you'll have written a more profound, more accurate, more beautiful and by far more UNPOPULAR song.  Stop telling those brats they've got their lives together.



"Lara's Theme" (Harmonica by Paul Hall of paulhallart).

By the late Maurice Jarre, a classical composer.  He did other themes for Dr. Zhivago, but Lein and Ponte ripped out most of them, emphasizing "Lara's Theme" instead and the movie got panned.  Jarre knew what he was doing.  He's an engineer.



But then, you see, the English and the Italians never did seem to recognize the brilliance of the 20th-century French Composers.  As the French say, "It's damage"; "c'est damage".  It's thought Lein should have stuck to authentic Russian, but Zhivago, being cultured, would have admired French music such as Ravel and Debussy.



The film should be remade with the other themes reinstated.  Some might have even been greater than "Lara's". But it's still a gorgeous bit of music and partially David Lein's idea, getting Maurice to go to the mountains and write it about his own love at that time.  Ingenious.  Typical Lein.



Maurice Jarre is from Lyon, France, a terrific town. I was there a couple of times.  Once a pair of pants I had just bought at the Paris Flea Market disintegrated on me and, arriving in the city semi-nude, and I had to use some of the funds I was raising in an attempt to go to India for a pair of blue jeans.



Also in the video is a series of digital art photographs I took on the path to Icy Lake in Alaska.



"Paper Roses." (Harmonica cover by Paul Hall of paulhallart).

By the little-known 20th Century composer, Fritz Spielmann (Fred Spielman), born in Vienna in 1906; died in the US in 1997.   His then wife, Janice Torre, wrote the lyrics, just as famous as the melody.



It was originally sung by Anita Bryant in 1960.  I heard it while staying in a remote village in Tutuila Island in the South Pacific.  The song has a different sort of fame to the crap that goes around in those idiotic pathetic hit charts.  Both the people who use those charts and the masses that are swayed by them are a bunch of incompetent jackasses, the lot of them.  They're gone, untreatable; don't even mess with them, they don't have any brains left.  If people don't use their brains, the material gets eliminated and there's little left.  It gets removed and sent down the spinal column to the urinary tract and they, therefore, pee their brains out.



"Paper Roses" was so far-reaching that it could penetrate to a tribal village in the remote reaches of the Pacific Ocean because it addressed and soothed a common problem experienced everywhere in this disappointing world, and that was the individual experiencing a cheapening of his or her life by the shallowness of others around them.  It happened to Spielmann as he began a promising career as a composer.  The 20th Century was a "paper roses" era when a vast movement was afoot to profit from the masses by rendering them into mere impulse buyers.  To do this the "elite" had to destroy culture and replace it with something debilitating the gullible masses would foolishly adopt as their own.  They're all idiots.  Whatever.



Anyway, for a visual, I actually found nothing in my archives.  So I put in a series I did in Carlsbad, California of a purple balloon on a windy day.  I used to dangle holographic film off of helium balloons and fly them on a fishing line to get rid of the crows.  It worked.  Well?  See any crows in the series, hmm?  I got rid of hundreds of them.  Works on the farm, too.  Forget the aluminum foil.  Put out strips of silver holographic film that breaks the light into colors.  Other birds love them.



"L'Amour Est Bleu" - (Harmonica par Paul A. L. Hall de paulhallart)

"L'Amour Est Bleu" Andre Popp and Pierre Cour, 1967.  (Harmonica par Paul).



A collaboration between two Frenchmen, the musician Andre Popp and the lyricist Pierre Cour back in the sixties.  They still had music back then before the subsequently destabilized younger generation started to mutate.  Like higher education, the wrong kind of music can cause irreparable brain damage.



This is my rendition on my little old Blues Band harmonica, in the key of C.  I could always hear these songs because I could play them on the harmonica from time to time.  It's good for you to play an instrument.  It increases your cranial capacity.



To decode from the French: "L'Amour Sur Terre et aux Fondure Illuminee par la puissance du Bleu".  Depth of water, penetrated by blue; Storms of life intervene in the wind.  Blue is arguably the most powerful of colors, the only color to be able to penetrate deep water or survive the pounding of sunlight in an old color photo or printed picture.



Depicted by my 2002 photo shoots of roses growing in my semi-wild garden by my former mobile home (the only home I ever -- so far -- owned, which I needed, to care for my ailing mother in her last years).  The roses grow strong and life goes on.  Meme sil est gris, c'est agris-able.  On arive com meme, je m'en fou.  If things seem gray, think of it as silver.



This is a tough damned little old world down here on the bottom floor, kid, so you better get used to it.  Love has a lot of enemies, but it always wins, with or without you, depending on your perseverance.



Those French guys come up with some really beautiful music, because, you know, they can't help it.  Enough said about that since there's no free lunch unless you happen to be one of the few who understands that everything comes from nothing.   Love's enemies put the price tag on it.



Love Will Win. By Paul Hall of paulhallart.

Love will ever conquer.  In loving, one must give.  In giving, thus, is moved along that stuff which makes one live.  And, there, in Love's humility, the greatest, they shall stand, who, through the ages, fighting hate, Love's battlements they manned.  in  Love will win and we will learn to touch a sort  of light.  This will win out in the end.



It's like that's it.  Love wins.  No contest.  The unstoppable destiny of love.   The morality of emotion.  The "the" of the the.  The essence of the  Universe.  The essence of all the  other existences as well.  



Original by me, Paul, playing a 12-string Takamine that was given to me on the streets of San Francisco.  The visual is a mouse painting; done with a mouse 'cause I wasn't set up to paint, but I still did the artwork anyway.



Anyway, have a look at the art.  I've got some nice stuff here for you.   Alright, the song is a little  schmaltzy, but that's because you can't do the subject justice.  Not even in Latin, and certainly not in English.



So it's not in the success of the  endeavor but rather in the  reality that at least it was  attempted.  So that, if nothing  else, we've got some kind of  result, here.



The artwork.  Done with the mouse.   I had paint brushes, I had oil  paint, terp, canvass... what was  the problem.  No problem.  It's  "avant-garde".  People wanted  another Wyeth, but they didn't get  it.  So enjoy the clip.  I say  it's valid.



The name:  Carrzrritaddrha (Kahh-zrrri-tadde'-dudhra). It's unique. I had to call it something so I came up with this.



WINDOW-MIND FROST DESIGN -- By Paul Hall of paulhallart ...

A frost designs the towers of murder's paradise.   The "windows" of your mind are blue with winter frost.  Original by me, Paul, on my Takamine 12-string.  The video is of a sketch I did in NYC in '65.  It turns into blue blistered plastic slowly.



If dem cats could speak they tell you dem humans got one real serious reality check problem here. The severe chronic denial of the mall rats, the ailment "mallrattitis, has afflicted our little twinkle-toes be-bop dancer, oblivious the disguised and obfuscated perils already upon her, has her ensconced in the icy blue cameo of the dancer of oblivion.



Melt the frost of changelessness of murder'€™s paradise where it's income is  death-related.  Work on putting some positive emotions such as love into the soup circulating  in your rust red bloodstream, drop  out of the heartless status quo that  has normalized you into an automaton and you'll realize it's a kind of "frost" or  frostiness of mind; a brain warp that's created the untenable situation that surrounds you.



The visual is a digital art series based on a drawing I did of a go-go dancer in the sixties, I call "the bopper".  It's the kind of visual I needed to epitomize the boutique world of the human mutant, who accepts the synthetic environment as reality without question and in their tidy oblivion retain a kind of do-nothing sanity that makes them appear more coherent than those on the outside struggling with real existence.



Love Will Supply. By Paul Hall of paulhallart ...

Song "Love Will Supply" along with drawing "Don't Touch (!)".  A Song that was written in Paris, France, back in 1980 at the Hotel Pasqual near Place d'Italy.  I called it "Italics".  Now, I don't travel for the sake of travel, you know, going deliberately to a couple of thousand places to get my picture with the natives so I could get a million clicks on youtube.  I just ended up in certain places.  Mostly for reasons we as humans don't understand.  Often I find myself at places where there's gold, like here (Puerto Rico, January 2009).  They think it's all taken, gone long ago, but it's back.  Gold travels, too. The

reality of the caldera. It rises through the strata from the plutons in the water, suspended in it, atom by atom.  That's kind of how I travel but in the human "manniere".  Unless you stay somewhere for a while, you don't learn anything.



The song was performed using a Takamine twelve-string guitar with real rosewood back.  DeMerle strings, lite.  D'Adlerio when I can get them.  -- In a garage in Bethel, Connecticut, summertime, one air-con going in the window, one in the door and a box fan in the roof vent; that's the background noise.  No rehearsal, as usual.  Summer of 1987.



As for the drawing, I did a painting of it later on; spring of 1966.  It was the last of the serious artwork I would be able to do because the military industrial complex was engineering wars and assassinating leaders to cram the young intelligentsia of the United States into the cannon fodder maw.  They think they can only get rich at others' expense.



I was talking with an Australian Vietnam vet, they also were tossed in the tank, who explained they didn't know it was supposed to be an unwinnable war.  It was the Aussies, because of their naif initiative, that won the first world war in a few key maneuvers.  So the complex had to use the treaty of Versailles to engineer another world war.  That's why you're not being drafted, kid.  They just barely stopped the sixties hippies once they found out.



Drawing: "Don't Touch".  The man, having gone through the battles of war, well... guy gets gal... she's in the barbed wire emplacement.  Nothing like a portrait of reality, huh?  You disagree.  Oh, this isn't my opinion.  I had to change my mind, too.  We're all hoping it's not as bad as it is.  But here we are on the ground floor.  So you add about fourteen years and then I get the song.  That's love, the swat team that gets through this hostage situation.



Christmas Carols (harmonica solo) live at the Bermuda Triangle, part 02 ...

ACTUAL FOOTAGE CAPTURED of a plane DISSAPEARING in the Bermuda Triangle (13:34 to 13:46 minutes), taken during my live performance at the Puerto Rico corner of the Bermuda Triangle on Christmas Eve day, 2011.



Influence. By Paul Hall of paulhallart.

Influence of the gray, balanced tones of shelter: Those, they there were sworn; where malcontent in hours spent, ideals of conflict there were bourne ...



The Horse of Representatives -- getting billionaires through gates into ...

It isn't really "America", it's New Rome, built on the blueprint of the ancient Roman Republic as set down by Cicero. The Empire goes beyond the bounds of the United States. The Emperor is someone who buys his or her way into the office. After a couple of centuries, the makeshift republic fails and is replaced by the empire. This is typically when the land is taken away from the citizen farmer and obtained by the wealthy elite ...



Sunday, April 26, 2015

Time Passes Slowly -- By Bob Dylan (cover by Paul)

Cover of this Dylan classic by me, one of my favorites, I used to hear it covered by Judy Collins in one of her albums I had back in the '60's.  I do this cover with my classical guitar and Blues Band harmonica with vocals and solos.



lyrics:



Time passes slowly up here in the mountains

We sit beside bridges and walk beside fountains

Catch the wild fishes that float through the stream

Time passes slowly when you're lost in a dream



Once I had a sweetheart, she was fine and good-lookin'

We sat in her kitchen while her mama was cookin'

Stared out the window to the stars high above

Time passes slowly when you're searchin' for love



Ain't no reason to go in a wagon to town

Ain't no reason to go to the fair

Ain't no reason to go up, ain't no reason to go down

Ain't no reason to go anywhere



Time passes slowly up here in the daylight

We stare straight ahead and try so hard to stay right

Like the red rose of summer that blooms in the day

Time passes slowly and fades away



Crash on the Levee (Down In The Flood) -- by Bob Dylan (cover by Paul).

Bob is protesting the ultimate problem: men and women in harm's way who refuse to evacuate until too late, a greater problem than war or crime or robbery with a fountain pen.  This makes the mamma in Down in the Flood a worse culprit than Zangzinger who killed Hattie Carroll with his cane.



lyrics:



Crash on the levee, mama

Water's gonna overflow

Swamp's gonna rise

No boat's gonna row

Now, you can train on down

To Williams Point

You can bust your feet

You can rock this joint

But oh mama, ain't you gonna miss your best friend now?

You're gonna have to find yourself

Another best friend, somehow



Now, don't you try an' move me

You're just gonna lose

There's a crash on the levee

And, mama, you've been refused

Well, it's sugar for sugar

And salt for salt

If you go down in the flood

It's gonna be your own fault

Oh mama, ain't you gonna miss your best friend now?

You're gonna have to find yourself

Another best friend, somehow



Well, that high tide's risin'

Mama, don't you let me down

Pack up your suitcase

Mama, don't you make a sound

Now, it's king for king

Queen for queen

It's gonna be the meanest flood

That anybody's seen

Oh mama, ain't you gonna miss your best friend now?

Yes, you're gonna have to find yourself

Another best friend, somehow



A Small Alaska Town, 1 (digital art, photography & harmonica by Paul). ...

That's Howard in the thumbnail on the scaffold, restoring William Moore's office and bunk house of the 1898 gold rush days -- all by himself!  In the background is what's left of the Harding Glacier that once went all the way down to the Lynn Canal Fjord back in the days when Harding visited.



A Small Alaska Town, part 1, full album (digital art, Alaska photography and harmonica by Paul Hall of paulhallart). Relaxing Background music.

Music & Photos by Paul A. L. Hall (paulhallart) of Skagway, Alaska, an Alaskan gold rush town in the 19th century.



"Gone with the Wind" by Max Steiner (cover by Paul).

a couple of years ago I made friends with this cute little shop cat who was always a little sad. so it became the star of this vid.

in a way, it's all "gone with the wind", the only ones who seem2escape the catharsis of the inevitable reversals of fortune r the individuals and they get away practically butt naked.

hang in there. it's less scary bein' a tsunami surfer, but we can make it with love4allof'em like our lil'cattie.




Saturday, April 25, 2015

Sleep in a Hollow Log - by Woody Guthrie (part 2). Cover by Paul Hall (p...





The car is like a hollow log in a way... Part 2 of this series of 2.



Lyrics from 2 Woody Guthrie songs, with slight improvisation from me (paulhallart):



Well, I'd rather drink muddy water, sleep in a hollow log --

Well, I'd rather drink muddy water, sleep in a hollow log --

Then be stuck in some old gossip hole, treated like a low-down dog.



Yes, I'd rather drink muddy water, sleep in a hollow log --

Well, I'd rather drink muddy water, or sleep in my voyage-car--

'cause I'm travelin' with my voice and I'm travlin' with my guitar.



I've roamed and rambled, and followed my footsteps,

through the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts.

And all around me a voice was saying,

"This World was made for you and me."



This World is your World, this World is my World

from the Cameroon Jungles to the Gobi Desert,

from the North Atlantic to the South Pacific,

This World was made for you and me

Moscow Nights -- cover by Paul Hall of paulhallart.

"Подмосковные Вечера."  A beautiful melody by Vasili Pavlovich Solovyov-Sedoy in 1955, in collaboration with the poet Mikhail Matusovsky who wrote  the lyrics.  It was originally about Leningrad, but officials of the then Soviet Union needed some alterations for a sports  promotion and that was that.  Until miraculously, the song caught on and soon became one of the most popular Russian tunes in  the rest of the World.



Many passed on the tune's early essence, beginning, perhaps, even with the Gypsy nomads long ago.  ... And those who replayed it in the west.  they performed it in US in the 20th century as the Dixieland-style "Midnight in Moscow" or "The Moscow Blues".  By such notable bands as "Kenny Ball and his Jazzmen" (1961 Midnight In Moscow: released Pye 7NJ2049 Side A and reissued EP - "Hit Parade Vol 1" - Pye NJE1082 in 1962 and reissued) which is how I first heard of the melody.



Originally about Leningrad (once again St Petersburg), some of those boys on the former Soviet sports bureau thought it should be changed to be about Moscow and that's how it stuck to this day.  Miraculously, the song caught on and soon became one of the most popular Russian tunes in the rest of the World.  It just goes to show you that, despite the game-playing childish sporting freaks of both the East and the West, true music will always prevail.



Re: REAL LIFE W.o.W!! (9.11.10 - Day 499) (music comment by Paul Hall of...

food hated when young

now liked



cause ur taste buds

got hiked



on the frontal lobe

as it twenty-two-ed



away from carbs and

into barbs.







cool fish tank

saw the flash of

tiny gold in the

grey waters.



fridge might succumb

2 magnetism

so u can catch ur food

mag fish with a

mag net.





I made a photo shoot

that was a proto root

musical wall paper in the

screen

was really waltz paper!



quite obscene.



Here's an idea won't diss the

scrall



splash love/hate oatmeal

on the wall



Video Cam Direct Upload



25-00 The Roll of a Rectangle



This began in the forties with the renowned Jeep.  I worked as an information specialist in the Army Materiel Command in the late '60's and there were many items in the equipment inventory that were right up there in the public eye.  One was the loss of life to rolling light utility vehicles known as "Jeeps", circa 1968.  And by "rolling", I mean the operator would make sharp turns at speed and literally roll the vehicle.  It was one of my busiest topics.  Right up there with nerve gas and disposal of nuclear waste.



The modern vehicle also called "Jeep" seems to have corrected that problem, though the original army model never was intended to be, back then, driven quickly round tight corners.  But other contemporary vehicles using the chassis of a pickup truck to comprise the support of a modern sports utility vehicle have neglected the fact that they can be driven in excess of sixty miles per hour and all it takes is a quick swerve and the structure will encounter a phenomenon of geometrical physics which I call: "the roll of a rectangle".



The forward momentum of a rectangular volume will render the longest aspect of it shape into a square wheel if a veer from its vector introduces enough forward momentum to its side.



The advantage of the jeeps, circa mid-sixties, was its narrow wheelbase.  That assured the vehicle passage in narrow places often encountered by off-road terrain, or even getting around congested convoys of larger vehicles on paved or unpaved roadways.  However, the operator had to know and be trained how to turn at 90 degrees with that vehicle.  A right angle turn with narrow wheelbases must be attempted only after a deceleration to less than 15 mph.



The mistake was when the bottom-liners, who flood the high-velocity highway with huge vehicles with off-road type wheelbases, got in on the game.  It looks like the money isn't in how good your product is but how good your lawyers are.  At least that's how those guys play their game.  You can still get around, don't get me wrong.  Just don't go driving your hustle mobile as if it were a reliable piece of machinery and you'll be okay.  Ralph is getting too old to help you anymore.



North and South America is the land of the banana republic.  It's just in the north, they managed to ban nanna and make it appear to be more legalistic.  The banana of the United States and it's up-front acceding presidentees was the automobile.



By the time the Japanese got around to making an honest car, the Americans had already been there as the firstus with the mostest and, damn, they can still sell those you-know-whatties, even if that one you or someone you know bought for two-fifty a month might be a Canadian make with parts brought in from everywhere on the globe that could be outsourced.  Pretty soon they'll have you assembling them yourself just like you have to do when you're too poor to have the Microsoft certified techie at the shop down the road upgrade your computer for you.



Ignorance is expensive and that's something we all have.  Drove my anything-but-Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry.  Them good old boys was drinking Orang Tua and Cointreau sayin' this'll be the day that I diet.  Yeah, I was at Aldermont the day the music died, but I saw the comet in the sky and got the heck outa there before jumpin' jack ever got onstage.



It reminds me of ancient Rome: Always emulating the Greeks.  No originality.  Back in the fifties, New Rome, the USA, with their motor city were making the impression that the automobile was as American as apple pie.  They had cars in Europe before Ford ever went to work for Edison or even left the farm.  There was gasoline in Poland long before there was a rich Rockefeller.  But you see, that's the trouble with the imitators:  They can only perfect they cannot innovate.



It's an indictment against the design capability of the big boys.  You see, with those guys, they'll do anything to turn a profit.  Well, am I wrong?  How come they got away with it for so long?  Oh, maybe you think it was an honest mistake.  Whatever.  I had to ride in one of those bounce busses once and I told jokes 'cause I knew I was taking my laugh in my hands.



Here is a probable approach to the geometry dilemma.  Abandon the rectangle to compensate for the veer factor.  The ideal is the U, but the practical is the spreading of a Y shape with a fork facing forward velocity.  But, of course, just remember, that's in concept only.  I can't afford to test it for free.  You've got to perfect the design before you go and build one, let alone try to manufacture it.  The first one to make a safe SUV. gets rich enough to buy General Motors and Ford.



Notice I said rich enough.  Not smart enough.  They'd probably try to buy Mercedes instead.  Number two would probably be smart enough to not waste their time.



Copyright (c) 2005 by Paul A. L. Hall.  All rights reserved.Mercedes instead.  Number two would probably be smart enough to not waste their time.



Copyright (c) 2005 by Paul A. L. Hall.  All rights reserved.

Friday, April 24, 2015

Goin' down that Road Feelin' Bad. Woody Guthrie, cover by Paul Hall of p...

Woody (Woodrow Wilson Guthrie) brought prosperity to the United States with a guitar and a harmonica. poverty only comes when the people manage to cheat each other most of the time. Woody was able to point out the extreme value of the average person, and the prosperity of honesty, ethics, and creativity of the common human being. you'll never have a prosperous nation if u just try to have a closed society with just the rich and a few underpaid workers to do their services.



"L'Amour Est Bleu" - (Harmonica par Paul A. L. Hall de paulhallart)

"L'Amour Est Bleu" Andre Popp and Pierre Cour, 1967.  (Harmonica par Paul).



A collaboration between two Frenchmen, the musician Andre Popp and the lyricist Pierre Cour back in the sixties.  They still had music back then before the subsequently destabilized younger generation started to mutate.  Like higher education, the wrong kind of music can cause irreparable brain damage.



This is my rendition on my little old Blues Band harmonica, in the key of C.  I could always hear these songs because I could play them on the harmonica from time to time.  It's good for you to play an instrument.  It increases your cranial capacity.



To decode from the French: "L'Amour Sur Terre et aux Fondure Illuminee pare la puissance du Bleu".  Depth of water, penetrated by blue; Storms of life intervene in the wind.  Blue is arguably the most powerful of colors, the only color to be able to penetrate deep water or survive the pounding of sunlight in an old color photo or printed picture.



Depicted by my 2002 photo shoots of roses growing in my semi-wild garden by my former mobile home (the only home I ever -- so far -- owned, which I needed, to care for my ailing mother in her last years).  The roses grow strong and life goes on.  Meme sil est gris, c'est agris-able.  On arive com meme, je m'en fou.  If things seem grey, think of it as silver.



This is a tough damned little old world down here on the bottom floor, kid, so you better get used to it.  Love has a lot of enemies, but it always wins, with or without you, depending on your perseverance.



Those French guys come up with some really beautiful music, because, you know, they can't help it.  Enough said about that since there's no free lunch unless you happen to be one of the few who understands that everything comes from nothing.   Love's enemies put the price tag on it.



Early Morning Rain. Harmonica cover by Paul Hall of paulhallat.

A song by Gordon Lightfoot.  I used to hitch those big birds.



I "hitched" Over 85 flights twice around the world, mostly street singing with my guitar, starting off with three cords and about a dozen Woody Guthrie songs.  I read the instructions in the song book from Woody himself:  A girl working at a small radio station he was visiting (in the days before satellite-feed urban rock took almost all of them over) asked Woody if he would teach her how to play the guitar.  He replied: "Sure thing.  Just grab a guitar, plunk your ass against the barn and play with the strings and when you get a crowd big enough to take a collection, you can play the guitar."



Also in the video is SeaTac airport, an important international airport on the West Coast.  It serves as the hub for Alaska Airlines.  We had a bit of space so I added a couple of pictures of me peddling my pedicab in the rain at Skagway, Alaska (after my broken left hand began to mend - it was set by Rob at the clinic), and also the Skagway airport, enlarged by the Army Corps of Engineers during WW2, due to the threat of invasion and subsequent foothold in North America of the Japanese.  Because of the almost incessant "Chinook" (downhill - from 3,400 feet to sea level) winds coming down the White Pass like water draining out of a bathtub (that's the White Pass in the background behind the Skagway Airport), it's slightly warmer there as air heats up as it descends and the Japanese, with the White Pass Railroad, could have successfully gotten a foothold in North America.  You can bring a fleet up the Lynn Canal, one of the biggest Fjords in the Western Hemisphere.



Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Neutralizing HIV -- aids may be an environmental disease as may they all...

The key to purging the HIV virus from an organism could actually be a choice of different keys. One is a viricide that doesn't trigger the HIV to mutate. Or it includes a sequence that turns off the mutational phenomena in the virus.



Another is that all human immune systems, with rare exceptions, are damaged by human synthetic environments. Other primates in a natural environment have immunity. There is a possibility that two generations in a natural environment may produce a natural immunity to the HIV virus.  The key to immunology, talking about keys, has always been the natural immunity of the organism to be immunized.  Once again, here, we're talking about infinite complexities that begin to break down, or be destroyed, in the synthetic environment.



Mutational triggers in a virus, such as the HIV strains are highly complex. It is thought that the virus itself is simple or highly simplified since it depends on a host for the genetic material for reproduction. But this is not the case. Further research will reveal that these cells are highly complex. In fact, it may be found that monocellular organisms are even more complex in their makeup, chemistry, and functionality than those cells that are part of a macro-organism which can depend on teamwork for their subsistence.



As we look beneath the outer membranes of such a cell as the HIV virus organism, we begin to see microscopic engines of all types and functions. Somewhere in this vast array even below microscopic, in the realm of the molecular -- and even in some cases the atomic, you will find functionalities, triggers, molecular tags, and all sorts of apparatuses heretofore unnamed.



In fact , it is arguable that in every cellular structure, from multi-cellular organisms to even the simplest viruses, to -- the unknown, for there may actually be organisms smaller than a virus -- there is the infinite; that each cell is in itself linked in this respect to the cosmos. There may even be organisms that consist of molecules or organic molecules that exist without nuclear reproductive material such as DNA or RNA: That may even have their sequences registered subatomically with quarks or some other infinitesimally small quanta.

 If you look into the mechanisms of the cellular structure of the HIV virus, probably just below the outer membranes, there you may find the mechanisms for mutation. In all probability, a good place to start looking is some sort of sensitivity on a molecular scale somewhat like the sensory organs on a macro-organism. Of course thus far I'm stating the obvious.



But I think you will find that this is intriguing here. It may involve a whole new series of processes involving nanotechnology in order to actually, in the first place, dissect the cell and then find ways to observe and record what is actually there.  The nanobiological microscope with micro transmitter capability.



Actually in the process of analyzing the virus, there may be discoveries less applicable to the dilemma and yet more interesting, and in fact quite intriguing as to the makeup of this organism. It has always been my supposition that in a primitive way, it is possible to have an "interface", or communication, in a rudimentary sort of way of course, with the organism and all organisms of its type invading any specific host, in which it may be possible to work out an "in host genetic compromise" (not to be confused with the erroneous term, "compromised immune system"), which may end up to be the cure.



In this case, it may turn out to be that the HIV organism itself, that has been enabled to become genetically compromised, may actually serve as a new addition to the macro-organism of the host it occupies. The new "employee" of the organism could then form anywhere from one to many useful functions, such as enhancing the robustness of the host's immune system, or other types of things such as attacking the mechanisms that cause Alzheimer's disease, or helping to repair damage in specialized areas caused by exposure to caustic or toxic materials, such as in the liver or spleen of the host.



Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Digital Abstract Expressionism, Gallery 1. By Paul Hall of paulhallart.

Original, "The Red and the Blue", key colors of key countries.  Original digital art using Adobe Illustrator and Photoshop. With the advent of digitization, the artwork leaves the canvas or the picture plane, at least as a point of origin.    Large printers called plotters can make the work as large as a billboard and the picture plane, canvas or anything else, becomes the "substrate" that is printed on.  Otherwise, the finished work is viewed on monitors or LCD plasma screens or whatever else comes along.



The song was written by me in Paris in 1980, called: "The Red and the Blue".



Paul A. L. Hall

paulhallart.com



Basic Telepathy -- Be careful before you "own" a thought. By Paul Hall ...

It's going to take quite some time to develop the ability to use what you've already got. It's kinda like the sensation of thought, but it isn't you, you parallel the other's thought. The catch is in realizing the difference.

Often the original thinkers are hated because unconsciously the sluggish find themselves imagining they are thinking difficult and deep thoughts they don't want to think.

Be careful before you own that thought, elements of the criminal mentality may be communicable.

The so-called dumb animals, to which the human beings attribute incapability of thought, may be more intelligent than perceived and adept at telepathic communication, thus eliminating the need for cumbersome physical vocalization attributes, only a "honking horn" on occasion, so to speak. Observe how they correctly keep away from humans, that the human's lack of ability to communicate may make said human highly dangerous.



Moon River, Leavin' of Liverpool, Farewell to Tarwathie (harmonica by Pa...

In this 2nd half of a half hour of harmonica playing, I cover: 3 songs, plus part of Stranger on the Shore and a short original.  I think, therefore A.M.  second 1/2 of 1/2 hour of me on the harp before the dawn.



words to the songs:

---- "Moon River"

music by Henry Mancini, lyrics by Johnny Mercer



Moon River, wider than a mile, I'm crossing you in style some day.

Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker, wherever you're going I'm going your way.

Two drifters off to see the world. There's such a lot of world to see.

We're after the same rainbow's end-- waiting 'round the bend,

my huckleberry friend, Moon River and me.



---- The Leaving of Liverpool



Farewell to Prince's Landing Stage, River Mersey - Fare thee well.

I am bound for California, A place that I know right well.



Chorus:  So fare thee well my own true love; When I return united we shall be.

It's not the leaving of Liverpool that's grieving me,But darling when I think of thee.



I am bound for Calafornia By way of stormy Cape Horn, And I'm bound to write you a letter love, When I am homeward bound.



I have signed on a yankee clipper ship, Davy Crockett is her name, And Burgess he is the captain of her, And they say she is a floating hell.



 I have shipped with Burgess once before  And I think I know him well: If a man's a sailor he can get along, If not, then he's sure in hell.



Farewell to Lower Frederick's Street, Ensign Terrace and Park Lane; For I think it will be a long, long time Before I see you again.



 Oh the sun is on the harbour love  And I wish I could remain, For I know it will be a long, long time Before I see you again.





---- Farewell to Tarwathie

  By George Scroggie



Farewell to Tarwathie, adieu Mormond Hill And the dear land o' Crimond, I'll bid you fareweel I'm bound out for Greenland and ready to sail In hopes to find riches in hunting the whale



Adieu to my comrades, for awhile we must part And likewise the dear lass that fair won my heart The cold ice of Greenland, my love will not chill

And the longer my absence, more loving she'll feel



Our ship is well rigged and she's ready to sail Our crew, they are anxious to follow the whale  Where the icebergs do float and the stormy winds blow

Where the land and the ocean are covered with show



The cold coast of Greenland is barren and bare No seed time nor harvest is ever known there And the birds here sing sweetly on mountain and dale

But there isn't a birdie to sing tae the whale



There is no habitation for a man to live there  And the king of that country is the fierce Greenland bear  And there will be no temptation to tarry long there

Wi' our ship bumper full, we will homeward repair



Yellow Bird or "Ti Zwazo" (cover by Paul Hall of paulhallart).

Classic Caribbean number by a Haitian-US-American around the beginning of the 20th Century.  Made famous by Harry Belefonte and then many others, it's one of my favorites.  I used to play it in the Caribbean and subsequently I was followed around by a cute little yellow bird who always used to cheer me up.  I've even got a couple of vids of the little yellow bird on my oldsanjuanart videos somewhere.

-- This video is 3-D capable.  Just click the "change quality" feature at the bottom of the video frame (the "gear" icon), then click the 3D icon when it appears to get the setting that matches your glasses.  No glasses? Click on the "no glasses" link and then look at the 2 images in the video cross-eyed until a 3rd appears in the center.



The Hamlet and Cheese Omelet - The illusion of ethnic purity. By Paul H...

2b or not2b - inbreeding causes genetic&mental damage.  It's like the contrast between a work-horse and a thoroughbred. When it comes down to the real nitty-gritty, the thoroughbred is almost useless for anything but a beautiful horse race.



-- And here in the mutt, the mixed-breed, we see the robustness of the combination the scrambling of the ingredients of our Hamlet and cheese omelet. It reminds me of the joke about the country that needed a stronger Air Force: The Presidente just had the air controller scramble the jets.



Here comes to play a word known as "disparity", meaning the "difference between", such as the disparity in binocular vision: When you look at something with both your eyes, each eye sees a slightly different picture. Your mind combines the two pictures and what you really see is actual perspective, known as "depth perception". It's a matter of life and depth. So what you are really seeing is what is known in visual physiology as "binocular disparity", or the difference between two pictures. Two pictures or not two pictures, that is the question.



The key to success is not always, in fact hardly ever, and maybe even never, the flawed human idea of "purity". With a good look at the hindsight of history, noting the parts where all the successes took place, we can plainly see that it is the mixture, different peoples working together in a blend of peace and prosperity, that really make a functional and prosperous society. Yet it is not always as simple as it seems.



In many societies, disparate cultures where different sorts of peoples are living together in the same nation still do not blend. I've seen examples of this in almost every place I have visited. I mean, people can do as they want. Far be it from me to criticize. What I'm doing here, though, is observing a phenomenon and pointing it out in this article.



When I lived in New York City, I resided in the West Village back in the sixties. The neighborhood I was in on Bedford Street was also a part of a section of New York City known as "Little Italy". It was a neat little place with lots of great cultural value, fantastic food, really interesting. But it was an enclave and in most places, you will also find such sorts of enclaves where newly arrived citizens from other parts of the world settle into tight-knit and exclusive micro communities that serve to, it seems, retard, as it were, the blending of disparate societies into the prosperous combination they could be.



Whatever the motive, security, purity, maybe even in some cases common sense, the outcome is usually the same: the area assumes a sense of rigidity, in which the denizens acquire an air of polarity and fragility, where the situation becomes territorial and stilted, all the while camouflaged by the color and liveliness of the culture brought in from the old country and clung to tenaciously.



If that's you I'm describing, what can I say. Real life has its insecurities were a person has to step out, front up, take a few chances, learn the new language. True strength comes from the blending of different factions, not from the misconceptions of purity where fallible human nature tries desperately to filter out anything it imagines to be impure.



In fact, we find out with some of these races, and peoples or even families that are given to inbreeding and shutting out the external world, what they imagine to be pure is really nothing more than stagnation. It's curious to note that a malfunction of the human mind is to cause, or to tend to cause it's local society around it to develop no further, but rather, in false visions of purity, cause it to implode upon itself.



What we have actually in the world today, almost 6000 years after we emerged from a stone age, is a mere shell, a fragment, of what humanity could be and should've been. We see a weakened and debilitated species that is intent on its own extinction; it's extreme intelligence being its own undoing. In other words becoming the opposite of what it had intended itself to be. But then, I suppose, two bes are better than one.



The Trail of Dead Horses - The Notorius White Pass in Alaska

As one continues up the Klondike Highway to the Canadian section of the White Pass, high above the sea level town and fjord sea port of Skagway, far below, We pass the jagged peaks of the Sawtooth Range, encounter falls from glaciers where the water is safe to drink, witness a bridge along a fault line where the small earthquakes rumble constantly, and just basically get a breath-taking view of the incredible sights presented to the visitor from every angle and perspective. The original travelers were probably not so intent on the views as they trundled along the original White Pass trail on the slopes opposite the two lane road completed not all that long ago. Before the railroad and the wagon road, it was a precarious trail along precipitous slopes.



Horses were brought in by unscrupulous hustlers from the south bought for a pittance at the end of their working years and run, as the saying goes, into the ground until they collapsed on the White Pass trail, also called "The Trail of Dead Horses", as described by Jack London in his accounts, as he was also one of those in the area during the gold rush days. The animals that collapsed on the trail were stripped of their loads and shoved over the side to die a prolonged death on or closer to the valley floor at the bottom. There they often died in the more merciful jaws of predators.



Some of the men, who for various reasons, collapsed on the trail met the same fate at the hands of crazed gold stampeders, obsessed with gold fever, who, if delayed long enough, simply shoved them out of the way and off the edge so that they could continue their trek to the gold fields.



A lot of the men came to Skagway with wives and children and when they found how tough the trail was, abandoned them to fend for themselves in the town. In all fairness, not all the men were crazed enough by the gold to forget the dependents, but often met their death either on the trail or in the gold fields. During the winter, the "Tormented Valley", so named by the bonsai-like twisted dwarfed pines that struggle in the nutrient-deprived upland table-lands, is covered by an enormous depth of snow whipped around by violent winds. At first the men simply ran out of food and many starved to death, whereas others also met with bizarre fates, if not the elements then death by the practice by some of cannibalism.



A bad situation was made worse by the primitive media of the day, which took any story they could and eagerly telegraphed it back to the home newspapers, oblivious of the lies contained, or not even caring, or, simply with the knowledge of the impossibility of ever being able to verify anything. So that amplified the gold rush until it reached outrageous proportions.   The greatest victims of the gold rush were, as is often the case even to this day, those that believed everything they read in the papers.



Finally, Skagway attracted the genius thieves, drawn in by the scent of money, the principle of which was Soapy Smith, so named because one of his scams was to randomly put coins in bars of soap he was selling, a primitive version of the modern day lottery, in a manner of speaking, only to stop the practice as soon as word got out and everyone was buying his soap. He later managed to get himself elected sheriff of Skagway, and soon word got out about his other practice of robbing the miners outright.  That caused the gold rush to be diverted to the next fjord sea port of Dyea, where the miners risked the more difficult Chilkoot trail rather than risk being robbed by Smith, his gang and by others in Skagway.



Today Skagway is suffering a second gold rush, but this time it's a gold rush of jewelry shops, which the town council and others, here better left unnamed, have allowed to set up in such inordinate numbers instead of fixing a cap on how many would be feasible that there are arguably more now than the tourist trade can accommodate, causing a crisis of diminishing returns.  Also, among other things, this allows the renters of the already limited housing available to the semi-annual work-force to inflate rentals to the highest rates the market will bear.



So Alaska still has her secrets, which is why I've given it the nick name: "I'll-ask-ya".  And what of the gold fields in Canada that so long ago brought forth the gold of the stampede?  Well, these days, more gold is obtained from those fields and other places around there than during the gold rush days.



Easy Steps to a Great Figure (pt1

how2loose weight&keep it off&still eat healthily. The real superman or superwoman is the1who gets the complete workout.



Doing your aerobics using many, many repetitions with light weight in many different workouts using as many of the muscle groups as possible.  This is best done in a gym that has nautilus type equipment that only exercises one muscle group at a time.



The secret is to build up the capillaries in your circulatory system, the smallest blood vessels that feed the individual cell groups.  This is called "endurance" when you get to an optimum state of that form of aerobic training.



Another important thing is that this form of workout develops the ligaments, often neglected part of weight training.  It also helps you to get a robust lymphatic system, which if you try to unwisely work out with too much weight or resistance, could suffer ruptures causing swelling and even in some cases, permanent damage.



So remember, there's nothing wrong with light.  Light and many and as variegated as you can.  The main target is the largest muscle groups but not just the legs.  I know, better legs than never, but this is the common mistake.



Ever see all the fatties in the gym hogging the bikes or treadmills?  Ha! Ha!  You need to concentrate on as many muscle groups as you can.  But primarily the ones you use the most in your daily routine.



One of those groups is the deltoids.  How many chubby shop clerks have I seen who go off and use all their exercise time walking around the parking lot and stuff like that.  Then they get back to the job and don't use their legs as much as those arms.



Now, the more muscle mass you've got the more fat you burn ON THE PROVISO that you coax your body to start developing those all important fat-burning enzymes that the bod hates to do because it seems to the bod not to be a good survival strategy.



That's where the treadmill and the jogging or huffy-puffy walking over several miles at least three times a week come in.  You've got to be kinda sweaty.  That's your signal that the 'zines are on the way.  Ol lang 'zimes.



Just watch getting sweaty in winter.  That's a survival problem that could get you in Dutch with the old pneumococcus.  One of the first symptoms of that is ear problems as they often hit there first.  Sugarless gum is an antibiotic that fights that, just remember gum in your mouth at workouts can be life-threatening.



The important part of building muscle mass is protein and it has to be complete protein.  You'll have to find out about that till I can write more for you later.  Men, at least fifty-five grams a day, but seventy-five won't hurt.  Women, forty-five to sixty daily.  Those protein powder shakes are a good source.  Use soy milk if you're lactose intolerant.



My recipe for Paul's Little Dinkie at the end of the day is a teaspoon of vodka and a teaspoon of sugar in your health drink of protein power such as soy or whey and soy milk.  Use a hand healed blender and be careful. Two glasses is good.  You need at least five different types of protein sources a week like wheat or penults or meat types or soy and so on.



Don't depend entirely on microwaving.  We don't know yet if it might destroy protein food value or vitamins.  Use brewer's yeast to curb your appetite.  The appetite is triggered by hairs in the stomach and the brewer's yeast seems to assuage them.



But protein alone won't do it.  You can't have the stuff without the wrapper and that's the cell wall of each muscle made of OLIO ACIDS that comes from what those idiots tell you not to eat: oils.  The best way to get all your oleos is to mix corn, penult and safflower oil and your body will do the rest with those raw materials.



So when you go about your daily routine, make a study of the muscle groups you use the most and target them first.  Just remember, you need to work on the other groups as well.



The main thing to stress is the low weight.  Once you are certain about things you can up the weights for limited reps, twenty or so.  And one great way is to set the pin at your max for a few reps, and then lower for a lot of reps.  The only safe key for weights is slow and steady progress.



Remember your bod is a lot more than muscle, and you're working out hundreds of different things.  Get rid of the champion mentality.  The super man or woman is the one who gets the whole body workout.  That's going to get you a gorgeous figure in not much time safely.



Eating right does more for you than just giving you good health, you are giving your appearance a workout by using your face muscles.  Also, the vivid display of facial emotion is very helpful.  So emotion plays a role, too.  A healthy face is a gorgeous one.  Smile a lot -- it takes more muscles than frowning and that gives your face a workout as well.



Energy Thinks (The electron is the intelligence.)

The electron is the intelligence.  And nobody even knows what they are.  Intelligent energy.  That's what smart is.  In you; beyond you.  Energy thinks.  And it's smarter than you.  But then, you must think with energy, too.  Also my drawings of my photos of the covered bridges of New Hampshire.   Max opacity ink on acetate, 1988.  "Think, think, and more think".  How come many of you don't enjoy thinking?  It's fun.  Most ideas don't come to you immediately, they involve cogitation.  I thought about gravity for 43 years before I came up with the principal of applied antigravitation (use of antigravity for transport, a device the size of a grapefruit could lift a cruise ship to the asteroid belt).



It's a song I wrote in Australasia, the words were written in Australia and the music composed in New Zealand.



The visual is a project that took about a year on and off (1987-88): a series of drawings of almost all the covered bridges of New Hampshire.  I'm missing about three.  They keep putting in new ones, which they allow as long as you use oxen to put it in place.  Of course, there's a bunch of other hoops you'd have to jump through first, so put your resort where there was once a bridge and then build it and they will come.



But this was A series of illustrations I did from my original photography on location. First I drove all over the state in a broken-down Subaru and did the photos of the bridges, so I'd have my own material to work with.  Then I did the illustrations on acetate using a maximum opacity pen.  Sakura.

             ---                 The words to the song:            ---

Energy thinks.  And is smarter than you.  But then, you must think with energy, too.  If you've got a crisis and things have gone wrong, it's maybe you're weak when you thought you were strong.

                                          ----------------------                              

Energy thinks and it teaches the fact.  They say the truth hurts, but don't ever look back.  In the world of the take, there's also the give:  Though you've come to existence, you must choose to live.

                                     -------------------------                            

So feed with the energy feed.  It's done with the heart, and not with the mouth.  Lifetimes of mystery.  Don't ever doubt. The surface, deceptive, is all round about.



Batman and Robin -- Abstract Expressionist Pop Art ...

Details for the Painting: It was one of the dreams I had in color. I dreamt that as I walked on the streets of 1965 Manhattan, everyone was dressed as Bat Man or Superman. So I ducked into a nearby bank to tell someone about it and all of them were dressed in the same costumes.

In the painting I ended up portraying them as a pair of Medieval monks at the scene of a crime, in this case a cliff at sundown, the butte in the background catching the last light. It was one of my experiments using the pallet knife, here to administer the dark blue of the top of the precipice in the shadows of approaching night. In the atmosphere around the pair the lines of lighter color put on with, no doubt, a number five hogs hair bright paintbrush, convey the deep element of mystery in which the two persons have allowed their careers to become immersed.

The work vaguely qualifies as a form of pop art, since it's based on comic book characters. But here the characters become perhaps more credible as expressionism often does. The mind of the observer adds the reality of his or her world to the forms on the canvass. So this painting may therefore, by a stretch of the imagination, become an example of pop expressionism. It gives me a chance to get in there with reds and blues. Thalo and ultramarine, cadmium and alizarin.

But the two men, through the impasto and the a la prima of the work, start to look far less preposterous than they might in the comic books.

Though you cannot see their face you can in fact detect from their body language the sadness and sanguine demeanor they have accumulated in the years of solving mysteries that were related to crime and the darker aspect of humanity in which things are done in secret to elude detection. 

It too is a premonition in which I foresee myself having to bear the same weight of melancholia as the over two hundred thousand mile travels of my subsequent years would reveal discovery of machinations, both of individuals and of collectives, all too depressing for words. Yet I couldn't arm myself with a devise as Bat Man can do in the painting (though it does look somewhat like a cricket bat, therefore really making him a bat man), nor could I sequester myself in the solace of the long monk's robe as does his counterpart, Robin.

But I comfort myself in one of my sayings at this point in my long journey: "The earth may have it's problems, but it does have some spectacular views."



Monday, April 20, 2015

The Philadelphia Experiment. Assumably ongoing... flaming compass, walk...

Use of electrolysis4the so-called "transportation" of matter...

-- This video is 3-D capable.  Just click the "change quality" feature at the bottom of the video frame (the "gear" icon), then click the 3D icon when it appears to get the setting that matches your glasses.  No glasses? Click on the "no glasses" link and then look at the 2 images in the video cross-eyed until a 3rd appears in the center.



Electrolysis is used in separating aluminum from it's ore, bauxite.  Maybe that's how Einstein got the idea.



When the ship was returned the compass was being removed and on the gangplank, it "burst into flames".  This can be seen in some galaxies where the spirals extend.  All forces in physics are really aberrations of expansion velocities and some elements like those found in a compass, focus the expansion faster in one or double-one (two) directions.  like solar prominences...



When the crew was ashore again, for a long time thereafter, many would start to disappear.  They were often brought back by people who hadn't been aboard touching them.  some would walk through walls and never be seen again.



the Philadelphia effect was observed in other cases before the experiment.  in one instance a French soldier stepped out of his barracks and was in New York City, but that cannot be verified.  Matter transfer was also recorded in the Bible in at least three times, the earliest being in what we might consider prehistoric times.



Theoretically, it may be possible to use electrolysis to desalinate sea water and even retrieve chlorine from the brine and use that to restore the photosynthesis-height capabilities to existing plant life to control global warming.



The Elimination of the Upper Class. By Paul Hall of paulhallart.

Plutocratic self-destruction.  Some of the wealthy class tried to use their power to eliminate an entire class in society -- the middle class -- and in doing so, set in motion a reversal of fortune upon their own heads ...



The Exuberant

...each motion tired, he pushes on, pain invisibly concealed in perfect ecstasy... and will repudiate illusion.  That's the resume.  The exuberant.



The song, written in Australia and music composed in New Zealand, examines the impetus behind people who became renowned for various reasons.  It seems to be a success formula.  Some criticize it as fanaticism, but, it's noted that in any time or place in history, if you have a few of those success stories, you've got a pretty decent civilization going.



The visual is a digitization (actually just the "canvass" filter) of a photo shoot I did at the Quechee Bridge, a generic covered bridge that didn't qualify for the register of covered bridges for some reason.



It is also the site of the Simon Pierce Glass Works.  Pierce emigrated from Ireland and found this old dam and hydroelectric generation plant in the town of Quechee, Vermont.  He proceeded to establish a World class, top-of-the-line glass blowing company there, using the hydroelectric power to fire the glass furnaces.  He also has a huge pottery concern, mostly at a second installation along the highway out of town, an industrial sized plant, though things are still hand made, there powered by gas.







The Exuberant

...each motion tired, he pushes on, pain invisibly concealed in perfect ecstasy... and will repudiate illusion.  That's the resume.  The exuberant.



The song, written in Australia and music composed in New Zealand, examines the impetus behind people who became renowned for various reasons.  It seems to be a success formula.  Some criticize it as fanaticism, but, it's noted that in any time or place in history, if you have a few of those success stories, you've got a pretty decent civilization going.



The visual is a digitization (actually just the "canvass" filter) of a photo shoot I did at the Quechee Bridge, a generic covered bridge that didn't qualify for the register of covered bridges for some reason.



It is also the site of the Simon Pierce Glass Works.  Pierce emigrated from Ireland and found this old dam and hydroelectric generation plant in the town of Quechee, Vermont.  He proceeded to establish a World class, top-of-the-line glass blowing company there, using the hydroelectric power to fire the glass furnaces.  He also has a huge pottery concern, mostly at a second installation along the highway out of town, an industrial sized plant, though things are still hand made, there powered by gas.