"Sometimes you have to forget what you feel, and remember what you deserve."
worldken:

New edition of 1984 will feature a “censored” blacked out cover


Penguin is releasing new editions of five of books by George Orwell, with covers by designer David Pearson. Perhaps the best of the new designs is Pearson’s simple but brilliant idea for 1984, with the title and author’s name apparently censored with black foiling.
The black bars only obscure the text at a glance, however; they’ll still be visible in the right light. Pearson acknowledges that the design is a bit risky, but it’s a dramatic look, almost as if some government ministry had tried to hide the book from the public.

worldken:

New edition of 1984 will feature a “censored” blacked out cover

Penguin is releasing new editions of five of books by George Orwell, with covers by designer David Pearson. Perhaps the best of the new designs is Pearson’s simple but brilliant idea for 1984, with the title and author’s name apparently censored with black foiling.

The black bars only obscure the text at a glance, however; they’ll still be visible in the right light. Pearson acknowledges that the design is a bit risky, but it’s a dramatic look, almost as if some government ministry had tried to hide the book from the public.

Why the Philadelphia Orchestra Should Have More of My Money (and How They Should Get It)

neil-gaiman:

kylecassidy:

Why the Philadelphia Orchestra Should Have More of My Money (and How They Should Get It)

(Originally published here where you can add comments.)

Trillian and I have been members of the Philadelphia Orchestra for a number of years now. We’ve watched them change — trying to find the right space in this New Digital World just like everybody else in the music industry. We’ve watched their foray into Twitter and Facebook and the feelers they’ve reached out with — trying new music, old favorites, the blog (not terribly engaging, but its there and now we know that cellist Yumi Kendall is also a kickboxer) talk backs, pre-show talks (lifting the … stage/audience barrier) — largely all good things. But having recently declared bankruptcy it’s obvious they still have a long way to go.

I’d like to give the orchestra my money and occasionally we work something out — sometimes they phone & ask for a donation, or they get me to buy a really expensive drink in the Wolfgang Puck bar which is kind of hit-or-miss and I don’t think is the best way. Instead of this they should be triple charging me for music at the point at which I already have my wallet out. What?? Yes.

Walt Disney long ago stopped thinking of sales in terms of people coming to the park and paying to get in the door. They realized that those people eat, and they stay in hotels, and accordingly, the business that Disney did expanded to food and hotels in an ever widening net of providing services. When people left Disneyland they were like orange trees that had been shaken until every bit of fruit had fallen off — and all that fruit had landed on one blanket spread out beneath.

This is something the orchestra hasn’t seemed to figure out yet.

Increasingly for people a very central function of the Internet has been autobiographical, we keep photo albums, lists of countries that we’ve been to, conversations with old school chums, our precious moments recorded and archived for the future. As anybody who’s Instagrammed a photo of their breakfast can tell you, this is how people think now.

The orchestra is part of my life and it shouldn’t be a fleeting part. Listen up, here’s how to get my money and make us both happier.

The orchestra tunes up before a show.

1) Sell me music before I see it Before we see a show, Trillian and I usually buy whatever music it is that we’re going to listen to — we like to go prepared. If there was an option at the beginning of each season to buy previous Philadelphia Orchestra (if possible) recordings of the music we’ll be listening to, for say … an extra $40 I’d do it. These are sales that are already going to happen, but they ought to be going to my orchestra, not amazon.com or even if they do use amazon as a front end, they could set up an affiliates program. But it’s got to be convenient, and it’s got to be less expensive than me going to eclassical.

2) Sell me the experience of seeing it They seem to have this down, I buy tickets on the web, they show up in the mail. And they’re doing a decent job of trying to entice me to come to the Kimmel center earlier, though shutting down the third floor bar makes it a lot less fun. Some day they might realize they can have a caterer up there serving food and charge me for dinner too.

3) Sell me music after I’ve seen it. This is a big one, and it’s one of my primary regrets about my orchestra experience — that I can’t re-live it. For years we saved the playbills but it’s not the same, because a lot of the music I completely can’t remember at all, thought I remember thinking at the time it was so much different than the recording I’d listened to in preparation.

If I could also buy a copy of the concert I’ve just listened to for … say $9 or so … I’d do that as well. I imagine sitting on the sofa with Trillian in a dozen years or so and saying “let’s listen to that concert we went to oh those long years ago,” and being born back upon a wave of nostalgia. Wouldn’t that be some sort of engineering hassle? Not really. Last year I discovered while listening to Chamber Orchestra Executive Director Peter H. Gistelinck at a talk-back that the orchestra already records every show they perform. What happens to these tapes? Who knows. But, you may ask, wouldn’t this be a union problem? A problem with guest conductors? Maybe, but that’s something for someone to negotiate. It’s a win for everybody, extra money for the orchestra, extra money for the musicians. Do they sell the exact concert I saw or do they pick the best of four performances? Who knows. Someone needs to figure out how to make it work.

Clickenzee to Embiggen

“Ah, but Mr. Cassidy,” you will say, “you obviously are a naive fellow who knows nothing about how musicians unions, buildings, endowing organizations, patrons and management function and interact.” — This is very true. John Kennedy didn’t know how to put a person on the moon — he only knew that he wanted one there, and on an insane, completely unrealistic deadline. People are like water: they’ll find the riverbed on their own. You can make a sluice that they all pass through and generate electricity on the way down or they’ll make their own way, but they’ll get to the riverbed. All this stuff either already happens or will happen, it’s just a question of who gets to benefit from it.

The world’s obviously changed and we’re all still finding out places and our methods. Orchestras find themselves in a double bind, exacerbated by a disconnect between an aging subscriber base and potential new, younger, subscribers baffled by the old model. Options exist now that really didn’t even ten years ago — the possibility of crowd-funding things through pre-sales, the instantaneous distribution of digital recordings, the ease at which transactions can be made on line (why can’t I pay for my tickets with paypal for example? Why do I need a physical ticket at all, why can’t i use my phone? And little things that suggest there was no coordinated effort, like why is the name of the website PhilOrch and the Twitter name is PhilaOrchestra?). All these things can be helping a symbiotic relationship between orchestra & audience member, someone’s just got to do it.

And why is the roof garden always closed?

Add me: [LiveJournal (the blog, where most of the cool stuff is)] [Facebook] [Twitter] [Google+] [Tumblr] [Roller Derby Portraits]

Kyle Cassidy is one of those people who gets that we are living now, and figuring out how to solve the problems of now need to begin with assuming that Long Ago is not going to come back into style…

panasonicyouth:

barrier-trio:

whyamiwearingpants:

vastderp:

In which the President of Ireland shows the world how to handle a Tea Partier.

I closed my eyes and just sort of smiled at the utter devastation he left in his wake. Dissed and dismissed.

“the idea of there being a social floor, below which people wouldn’t fall, that’s the future!”

dude i love this

FUCKING DESTROYED

just

incredible. oh my god

neil-gaiman:

The Grim Reader

Brilliant!!

neil-gaiman:

The Grim Reader

Brilliant!!

odairiver:

synnesai:

kawree:

youhavethatrumble:

its-funnierinenochian:

drowningalaska:

BEST THING EVER

WATCH IT. YOU WON’T REGRET IT.

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING WITH ME.

OMG BEST. I WOULD PUSH THE BUTTON AGAIN AND BE LIKE, NOW DO IT AGAIN!

have to blog it again it’s just so fucking awesome

I’m crying.

Absolutely brilliant.


Bird songs written in notes [from Musurgia universalis by Athanasius Kircher, 1650]

Bird songs written in notes [from Musurgia universalis by Athanasius Kircher, 1650]

enyasurvivor:

This is the menu for a restaurant in Philadelphia, PA.  Everything on the menu is a quote from Mean Girls. 

WHERE IS THIS?

enyasurvivor:

This is the menu for a restaurant in Philadelphia, PA.  Everything on the menu is a quote from Mean Girls. 

WHERE IS THIS?

10 poems I love: Still I rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

-Maya Angelou

It seems odd to have the second to last “I rise” as one of my favorite lines, but every time I read it, I always interpret those last three as such. [as a thought] I rise. [Softly to self, almost internally] I rise. [as a declaration] I rise. I feel that internal I rise is so powerful.