so many years ago. Love it!
so many years ago. Love it!
This from Harper’s “Findings,” May 2013
I love the word heliosynchronous!
It makes me high.
I would swear that it even pitches my voice higher.
I also think it goes very well with smartphone.
You can’t leave out Orbit!
Another outta-space word right there!
Contains Orb and
Orb is religious, sacred. Space bends back in on itself.
Earth the size of a pool ball would be smoother.
Why, it begs, is there a smartphone orbiting Earth? Makes sense that it’s on time and in tune, however, being that it’s a smartphone. But why is it screaming?
I prefer to remain in the dark as to the undoubtedly reasonable explanation and instead stay heliosynchronous to my ignorance.
And in a nod to the power of reasonable explanations, also from “Findings”…
“Scientists proposed that male lions’ skill at ambushing prey in dense vegetation was previously unknown because of scientists’ fear of being ambushed by male lions in dense vegetation.”
Right on, that.
There’s a lot of talk about cloning and whether or not it should ever extend to humans, which we all know will eventually happen somewhere by someone and the seal will be broken. If those people lead good lives (clones, mind you), the practice will have to be accepted lest we discriminate against clones. They have as much right to live as you do, they have as much right to be brought in to this world as you do. So it’s a done deal and even if you have deep reservations about it, I’d ask you to think about one thing: What if instead of just cloning, we cloned Karen Carpenter? You can’t possibly disagree with that! Karen died way too young and how sweet would it be if you could go into any crappy little lounge with a singer and it was a Karen Carpenter? Clone Carpenter, of course. How sweet would that be?! I would argue that I get the original, the flagship clone, as it were, because it was my idea. I would enslave her like an ipod and she would hang out with me and sing upon request. Karen Carpenter. We all miss you, everyone.
Okay, i’ll say it. I knows he’s got some geniusgenes, but i don’t trust Karen Carpenter’s brother. He’s guilty of something. He’s got that look in his eyes. That untrustworthy look in his eyes. This is not a man who took the time to listen to Karen Carpenter’s gorgeous voice -or, judging by his expression, he just wee-weed in his pants.
I think that what happened here was that he was full of ever loving saturdays and druscilla penny’s and then he heard Karen Carpenter’s voice come into its own and he realized that all his talent as a songwriter, all is ability to get right up there with the best bands of his time, paled like marilyn manson in the sunshine of Karen Carpenter’s pure true voice. He’s got a fine voice but no one could possibly want to hear him sing if Karen Carpenter was also on stage.
Brutal truth, that.
Allow me if you will to wax a bit philosophical about Karen Carpenter. Okay, there are other singers of all stripes and certainly a whole crop of new female singers that are all the rage – there’s that Katy Perry and the one Mrs. Gaga – and that’s all well and good and I’m sure they’re all that and a bag of ironic chips, but then, right?, then there’s Karen Carpenter.
Alone in an empty room sans any electronic enhancement and singing a single run of notes any of those other singers would fall to their knees at the feet of Karen Carpenter. She’s got more velvet in a single sung note than Tony Bennett could fit in his no doubt considerable mansion.
Most singers sing to a crowd – an audience. Karen Carpenter sings to you. If you don’t believe me, strap on some headphones and listen to “I Believe You”. Listen to how her voice hits every note, the perfect songstress, while also talks to you – directly to you. She believes you. Can you believe Karen Carpenter? You should. Or you’re Soul-Dead.
Really. What is it about Karen Carpenter that makes all of us – you, me, everyone we all know – just melt when she sings? I will tell you. It’s honesty. No singer in the history of humankind sang with such unabashed truth. In an era where there’s little truth in music. Karen Carpenter is here. Still. She’s here.
You’ve heard it. You could have been living under a fucking bridge but you would have heard it blasting from some car driving by. The vocal track shat on by that fucking effect (T.F.E.). It slightly modulates so it mostly sounds like the singer just blew back an entire Bubble Up and is either burping or hiccuping or both. Constantly. Because they seem to have a penchant for using it throughout the entire track. Because it’s so fucking cool!
Actually, it’s lazy. It probably sounded cool some years back when it was introduced. A couple of acts might have benefited from the novelty. Cool enough. But it went from some cool vocal thing to what is what? Standard? Certainly ubiquitous. Now they’re like. That vocal kind of sucks, let’s put that fucking effect on it! Now it’s gone from sucks to stupid. Can you tell I hate that fucking effect?
But it does lead me to Karen Carpenter, the most perfect singer in the history of humankind. Karen Carpenter’s voice is easy to describe. It’s perfect. She has perfect pitch. She hits every note. She sounds like the very personification of ‘I’m alive!’ which, I know, is somewhat ironic and definitely sad. But her voice is perfect. She never noodles around notes. She sings the fucking note! As it was intended to be sung! Perfectly.
There are lots of great singers around now of course but can you tell I love Karen Carpenter?