Culture vulture

Thank you, friend.

Thank you, friend.

Thanks for the hindsight
Culture Vulture is a compulsive note-taker. Being blessed with a sieve-like memory and a nearly unlimited supply of notepaper and pens, we jot things down day and night to remind ourselves of whatever profound experience or brilliant insight might be passing momentarily through our sensory or cognitive apparatus at any given moment. The pages pile up, often unlooked at for months or years, and when we pull them out and take a look we discover things that we have no recollection of at all, such as: “It’s the early bird that gets the worm, but it’s the second mouse that gets the cheese.” Or: “Saying something first is not nearly as important as saying something at the right time.”

Thanks for the cognitive dissonance
“I’m not going to cut dog food for blind people.”

The statement deserves some kind of prize for political surreality. Plucked out of context and plunked down on the page to writhe in a puddle of ambiguity, the words pulsate with dark humor and emit flashes of empathic light that illuminate the tragic depths of the human condition.

The Governator’s intended meaning, that he has no intention of cutting funding for programs that provide assistance to low-income blind people so they can feed their seeing-eye dogs, is laudable, and his economical approach to declaring his intentions is refreshingly direct. But we must admit that the idea of a head of state whose statements must be reconstituted like dehydrated soup after they are uttered is slightly disturbing.

Thanks for the music
After months of barely touching a pair of sticks Culture Vulture is back on the throne. The drummer’s throne that is, and for that we are truly grateful. When all else is awash in a sea of absurdity and annoying obligations, the simple act of sitting behind a drum kit and smacking out a 4/4 backbeat while a group of friends conjure emotional soundscapes from vibrating wires and streaming electrons and pulsating speakers and quivering larynxes is a miraculous relief. Stringing words together is rewarding, challenging and intellectually satisfying but ultimately solitary work. But combining forces with other musicians to craft a sonic artifact that can be played and listened to and danced to over and over, each time providing a fresh and pleasant experience, is a collective miracle that is worth all the hours spent rehearsing in freezing garages.