Death Battle of the Bands: Trumpet FTW

Readers--

Here's a question I posed to my good friend, Jeff, husband of Justcurious, as prompted by the very odd appearance of BOTH the UNC and V-Tech marching bands joining the football field to perform together.

Question: If you had to go to battle armed only with a musical instrument, what would it be?

Assume your opponents are also armed with instruments. You may use more than one type of instrument. You may do a MacGyver and jerry-rig instruments (and instrument parts) however you'd like. It is a battle to the death.

Discuss.

Answer: Trumpet

Cloud Gate

The sculptor of Cloud Gate is Anish Kapoor. And the ever-trenchant detector of subtle irony is Andy D.

Oh, it on!

Autumn Leaves at the cemetary

even your flow of tears

Normally I remember quite vividly one or two dreams per night. But last night the sole memory I had of any dream was this line spoken by someone else. I do not remember to whom the line was directed, but it was the very last thing I dreamt before I awoke:

"I will miss even your flow of tears when I am gone."

Its spoken cadence in the dream reminded me of the e.e. cummings poem that Michael Caine points out to Barbara Hershey in Hannah and Her Sisters--somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond, especially that wonderful closing line:

"nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands"

Taking down names

Not my area of expertise, but I've got imagine that when angels start taking down names then there's gonna be some hell to pay for someone. I doubt they're just journaling for the sake of self-discovery.

homeless man and flag

Witch at the cemetery

Sometimes one visits Myrtle Hill Cemetery by oneself to take a walk among the graves and headstones and to contemplate one's own mortality and the mortality of one's loved ones. And, if the spirit calls, to take photos. (And call it does.)

And sometimes when one visits Myrtle Hill cemetery, one has the entire cemetery to oneself with the exception of a witch, whom one sees at a distance in front a mausoleum.

I am glad that these things happen.

Cosmic Joke

Our pretensions:


Our reality: