Off the Mark

you weren’t there that day for the naming of things
the naming of things

Andrew Bird. "The Naming of Things."  Andrew Bird & The Mysterious Production of Eggs.

Lest anyone think I’ve been slighting Mr. Bird, here is my Homage to Andrew.

Ever since the show Friday night I’ve been listening primarily, and repeatedly, to Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire’s Oh! The Grandeur, Weather Systems (both got at the show), Andrew Bird & The Mysterious Production of Eggs, Haley’s newest (from the show), and a bit to her first CD, and of course, Lambchop’s is a woman at bed time.

I spent a lot of time this weekend overdoing the Gross and Taylor article reading review for Adv. Cat & Class. for Monday morning.  More on that later.

just a revelation from me to you
so don’t believe a thing that you might hear
at least from the last 30 40 years
cause it wasn’t long ago
just before the reign of Nero
we had no concept of zero

so.  beware…

Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire. "Beware."  Oh! The Grandeur.

Some recent reflections on some of my deepest desires

So I’ve come to the explicit realization that I’m just a boy who does not like to label things nor do I like extraneous decision-making … yet … I want to be employed to tell people what "documents" and "resources" are about and what they are named.

The whole dislike of labeling things is old.  And variable.  I never did like labeling, say genres of music, because I considered it a complete waste of time.  Even when I was young and had a narrower range of tastes, there were less divisions within music, … I couldn’t stand it.  The divisions meant different things to different people.  Many distinctions were specious.  And now.  Now?  Just go to Best Buy or Circuit City and tell me if any of those artists in the R&B bins are what you consider R&B if you are even a day over 30.  The same holds in many other areas that we categorize.  But I’ve also been categorizing things my whole life.  Yes, like all humans, but probably a standard deviation or two more than the norm. 

After all my years in the Army, I cannot stand to have to make extraneous decisions.  If they aren’t critical, they shouldn’t need much thought, nor do I need more than a few choices at best.  Restaurant menus.  Complete bane.  I have developed a seemingly productive counter-strategy for that one, though.  There is simply no need for all the stupid and generally meaningless choices we have in our lives.  Even worse, they are dangerous in that they provide an illusion of real agency and freedom in our society.  But that is something else entirely.

I’m not sure what about the Army, or why, it caused this choice revulsion in me but I’m fairly certain the Army is a primary factor.  Whatever the causal path, I now dislike making (excess) decisions.  Although, I can. 

Yet.  Yet.  I want to be a cataloger.  A classificationist.  A metadater.  An organizer of the vast web of knowledge. 

Mix all those conflicts together, toss in a few decades of life experience, a philosophy education, and a LIS education and you get something really weird.  Me.

Listen!  I just work here—no I dare not speak its name

Andrew Bird. "Opposite Day."  Andrew Bird & The Mysterious Production of Eggs.

I ran the short version of this observation by a couple fellow students yesterday, and the general response was a shocked, "Then why are you in library school?"

I was let down by this response.  Seriously.  First off, the 2nd part (aboutness and naming of things) generally requires something like a library degree.  Secondly, there are far more interesting things that should come to mind quite easily by being faced with such a seeming dichotomy.  "Then why are you in library school?"  What a limited response.

well i can tell by the way you take your infusion
you spent some time in a mental institution

…

well i can tell by way the reach your conclusions
you’re the director of a mental institution

Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire. "Tea & Thorazine."  Oh! The Grandeur.

Well, this isn’t nearly as polished nor as complete as I’d like, but it is overdue and, while still true, I need to change some of the CDs in the player.  I’ll just have to let it go much less witty and much less explanatory than I’d like.  For either you or me.  Hmmm.  I seem to have issues….

Time.

well you sure didn’t look like you were having any fun
with that heavy-metal gaze they’ll have to measure in tons
and when you look up at the sky
all you see are zeros
all you see are zeros and ones

Andrew Bird. "Masterfade."  Andrew Bird & The Mysterious Production of Eggs.

Having fun or not, I do not believe that the world and its relationships can be replicated in binary.  It can be represented and described but, that, is a long way from replication.  [And yes, before we settle for replication, I'd want to define it—together.]  The dark side will never get me fully.  Artists like Andrew Bird make that just a bit easier to hold on to one’s convictions in that regard.

These three albums are vastly different, yet somehow the same.  Maybe it is just the touch of a master.  All are simply amazing and beautiful.