[‘hem]
one-two, one-two
Off to Hokum Hall for some silent movie bliss this afternoon.
[‘hem]
one-two, one-two
Off to Hokum Hall for some silent movie bliss this afternoon.
I went down to Folklife this afternoon, despite having decided against it last year, after all that baloney the enforcement nerds at last year’s Seattle Center events put Jason through.
I went partly because (please note, usability engineers) I couldn’t find decent information on the event this year at the NWFolklife web site.
(I think it’s interesting from a usability and marketing perspective that, in this case, less information drove my decision to visit, the opposite behavior that would be generally predicted in response to such a situation. The downloadable PDFs do reproduce the schedules, and in theory they have a search interface – but that’s about all the info that’s available online.)
In particular, I wanted to find out about the annual instrument auction. Without information on the website that I could find easily, I had to go down to Seattle Center to find out. After asking two clueless volunteers, both of whom expressed horror that it might be no more, I located the information in the program.
Guess what? it’s no more, and in the program they have the arrogance, gall, and general bitter stupidity to blame eBay. The exact words are “online auction sales,” but I’m sure you can do the math.
So I don’t know, maybe I had a chip on my shoulder, but after learning that, I wandered around what used to be my favorite thing about living in Seattle, seeing the festival pretty much the way I used to as a teenager: stupid hippies faking Irish and Jamaican accents, playing pale imitations of folk music without conviction, discipline, or energy.
Indeed, the guiding aesthetic appeared to firstly, at all costs, avoid the embarrassing, authoritarian convention known as “song structure”. Secondly, emphasize needless and flashy virtuosity for its’ own sake, partly so that some structure might be provided for the dutiful listeners to insert applause at the appropriate times.
I’m quite sure that these perceptions are colored by my jaded view of the event’s organizers and hosts, and that there are as many interesting and firey performers as in previous incarnations of the festival, but I, it seems, lack the patience to seek them out.
In server rebuild news, I found a perl script to automate adding files to Gallery. Hope that bellerophon can bear up under the weight. The modock site may also be complete, save the guestbook.
Paul sez, “post it.”
Despite the fact of it’s being a quickie I will. Originally this was a line in a comment on Paul’s site, but it changed. “Bel” is an abbreviation I use to refer to bellerophon, this webserver.
It’s also an old, old, North African name used by the Berber, who lived along the shores of the Mediterranean before the Romans. When the Islamic expansion came, they moved into the mountains, and some beyond into the desert.
This was composed prior to this week’s earthquake in Algeria.
Originally, “Hades’ mist” was “Agent Smith,” in a silly Matrix reference which I’ve since thought better of.
For Hades’ mist has touched the mind of Bel;
and before Roman eyes his city falls.
There, above the Carthaginian shore
his home shall be among the mountain folk,
Past the end of empires: one, two, three, four.
In other news, partial restores of both modock and tussinup are in place. Digging into Gallery reveals: there is no straightforward way to automate the album-building process. Foo.
A big THANK YOU to Google caching!