It’s been 10 years since Prince died of a fentanyl overdose. Fentanyl was also among the drugs that would kill Tom Petty in 2017. Johnson & Johnson, the company that invented fentanyl, paid 5 billion dollars to settle claims against it. Which is significatn, but it ain’t gonna bring back Prince, Petty, or any other of the hundreds of thousands of human beings killed by these drugs.

Just had to point that out. Anyway, Sign O’ The Times is one of the best albums ever, as is Dirty Mind. And of course “Purple Rain” is one of the best rock and roll songs ever recorded.

Prince’s output, ‘79-’88 has never been equaled by anyone, including him. In my humble opionion, he never again put out an album that holds up end-to-end as many of the albums from his Golden Age do, but he did release some absolute gems in the 90’s. (Maybe after then too, but I’m only one man! Somebody else is gonna have to do the 2000s). It’s easy to find places to start with Prince’s 70’s and 80’s output, but the 90’s is trickier, so I’m here to help!

(Note—I am not counting the B sides that were released on full length albums for the first time on 1993’s The Hits/The B Sides because most of those are from the 80’s. But I encourage you to check out “Horny Toad,” “Feel U Up,” “Erotic City,” and especially “She’s Always In My Hair.”)

What follows is 80 minutes of Prince goodness as curated by me. I will not assert that my list is definitive because people seem to really respond differently to Prince’s music—I was floored when a ton of people named “Adore” as their favorite of his songs after he died because that’s my least favorite song on Sign O’ The Times. But this is the stuff I like best.

Here’s a link to the Spotify playlist, and yeah, I know Spotify is evil, and I do buy new music on Bandcamp, but I’m not re-buying stuff I already own and I don’t know if there is ethical listening under streaming, but anyway, yeah, if there’s a streaming service that is less evil, let me know.

1. Endorphinmachine—Hard rockin’ party track that opens “The Gold Experience” I like the rockers, what can I say?

2. Gett Off—One of the things I love about Prince is that he was absolutely unafraid to be ridiculous. Which makes even his horniest songs strangely charming.

3. P Control—Prince’s attempt at a feminist anthem, which, okay, I’m not sure it works on that level, but it’s a fun song and finds its way onto my mental jukebox all the freakin’ time.

4. Prettyman—Prince gave most of the songs in this vein to The Time, so it’s fun to see him inhabiting the egotistical Morris Day-esque persona. Also this is funky as hell and Maceo Parker guests on sax!

5. Tangerine—Just a really pretty, melancholy little number.

6. My Computer—though it references outdated technology with the AOL sample, the idea of being lonely and looking for solace on the internet is still incredibly relatable. A duet with Kate Bush, but Prince doesn’t let her shine here.

7. Damned if Eye Do—Prince decided that each of the 3 CDs of the Emancipation album should clock in at exactly 60 minutes, which leads to some songs going on a little longer than they should, as this one does, but I still dig it.

8. In This Bed Eye Scream—Prince doesn’t do vulnerable all that often, (I’m not saying never—there are 2 more examples on this very playlist!) so I find this song about a guy who’s filled with sadness and regret over a breakup and seems to hold out some vain hope that it’s not all over particularly touching.

9. Face Down—a colossal fuck you to everybody who told Prince he couldn’t change his name to that symbol and who basically wrote him off. Also I love when he calls out “Orchestra!” and this cheesy synth riff responds.

10. Love Sign—I dunno—I’m sick of evil knocking on my door, so maybe I relate. Duet with Nona Gaye.

11. Cream—see horny, ridiculous, charming, above.

12. Calhoun Square—a real place in Minneapolis, apparently, but I love the idea of this kind of party utopia. c.f. Utopia’s “One World.”

13. Dolphin—lyrically revisits territory he covered in “I Would Die 4 U,” but the melody is irresistable, and this is one of my favorite Prince guitar solos.

14. The Truth—the best of the solo acoustic songs from the album of the same name. About mortality, and…some other stuff. I love the guitar riff and the vocal here.

15. Eye Love You, But Eye Don’t Trust You Anymore—Prince, piano, and acoustic guitar (courtesy of Ani DiFranco!). I was stunned by this when I first heard it because I think Prince usually hides behind a variety of personas, and this just seemed like a straightforward (and beautifully sad) song about a guy whose heart is breaking.

16. So Far, So Pleased—a new relationship seems to be going well. A fun, upbeat song with an irresistable guitar line. Also a duet with Gwen Stefani, which was a much cooler move in 1999 than it would be now.

17. Gold—I mean, look, yes, it’s clearly an attempt at another “Purple Rain,” and I guess it suffers a little bit in the comparison, but if you just take this as its own song, it’s a pretty groovy anthem. Also I like that he was still swinging or the fences in 1994.

18. Nothing Compares 2 U. Live duet with Rosie Gaines. I used to play this version for musician friends, and when Rosie Gaines’ mic is turned up at the beginning of her verse, they’d go, “wait, is this LIVE?” Yep. That’s just how incredibly tight the NPG was. But also a complete reimagining of the song that is completely different from Sinead O’Connor’s (also excellent) version.

Mientras doy los últimos pasos hacia el confesionario, medito sobre la gran culpa que me ha traído hasta aquí.

No es precisamente una culpa. Es más una tragedia, una duda; qué se yo.

Mi hermano, su hijo que es el jefe de ingeniería, su ayudante y yo, que soy el contable de la empresa, fuimos el pasado viernes al Pico de la Hormiga, en las montañas del condado.

Quiso enseñarnos unos terrenos para urbanizar y mientras hablaba del proyecto, movió unas piedras, se despeñó y se mató, allí, delante de todos, sin que pudiéramos hacer nada.

Pero mi caso fue distinto, desde el punto de vista subjetivo. Al escucharlo alardear de los millones que iba a ganar, en ese mismo instante quise que se cayera en el abismo, lo que en efecto ocurrió sin que hubiera una intervención física de mi parte. De hecho, estaba a unos metros de él cuando se precipitó al vacío.

Todos fuimos testigos de que caminó dos o tres pasos mientras hablaba sobre las maravillas de su inversión, el suelo cedió y cayó sin remedio.

Cuando todo fue un hecho consumado, mi sobrino me abrazó y estallamos en lágrimas. Mi dolor, creo, era auténtico. Qué gran hombre.

Aunque me he pasado estos días estudiando lo que he podido acerca del poder de la mente, está claro que la policía no le da mayor relevancia al pensamiento, a menos que acompañe a las acciones. Fue un trágico accidente.

Pero yo estoy frente al confesionario. Soy una persona de fé, me arrepiento de mi horrible pensamiento. ¿Podré vivir en paz?

One of the highlights of the Manshur event I participated in a few days ago was the discovery of Zeina Maasari's stellar research project: Decolonizing the Page, which includes a superbly curated archive of gorgeously illustrated and/or designed Arabic books from the 1950s to 1980s, many of which I had never seen or even heard of before.

#radar

Game Two of Seven

Tonight's second game of the NBA Championship, Round One, best-of-seven series between the San Antonio Spurs and the Portland Trail Blazers will tip-off at 7:00 PM CDT. And I will be listening to the radio call of the game on 1200 WOAI, radio home of the Spurs. Go Spurs Go!

And the adventure continues.

The Wandering Fire est un roman publié en anglais en 1986. Il s’agit du deuxième volet de The Fionavar Tapestry, une trilogie de fantasy par l'auteur canadien Guy Gavriel Kay.

As the evil of Rakoth Maugrim threatens the very existence of Fionavar, the five from our own world must cross over once again to play out their given roles: Kimberly to summon the dead from their rest and the undead to their doom; Dave to take his place in battle among the Dalrei of the Plain; Paul, Lord of the Summer Tree, once more to weave his own bright thread through the tapestry; Jennifer to become the agent of a timeless destiny; and Kevin to discover finally the part he is to play in the struggle to save the Weaver's worlds from the Unraveller.

Le récit reprend quelques mois après la fin du premier tome. Les cinq étudiants sont de retour à Toronto mais ils sont transformés et tourmentés par leur passage dans le monde de Fionavar. C’est particulièrement le cas pour Jennifer qui a vécu l’horreur lors de sa captivité dans la forteresse de Starkadh. Tous les cinq savent déjà qu’ils devront retraverser vers Fionavar pour combattre Rakoth Maugrim.

L’avantage de ce deuxième tome, c’est que l’auteur a moins besoin de consacrer du temps et des pages pour l’exposition de son univers, il peut donc entrer plus rapidement dans l’intrigue et l’action. Par ailleurs, le style de Guy Gavriel Kay est toujours envoûtant, et on continue de suivre avec plaisir des personnages que l’on a appris à apprécier dans le roman précédent.

Les inspirations proviennent toujours autant de Tolkien, de la mythologie celte, mais Guy Gavriel Kay introduit également dans ce deuxième volet une bonne dose de légende arthurienne. C’est d’abord un peu surprenant et le mélange pourrait être périlleux, mais j’ai finalement trouvé que cela fonctionnait plutôt bien, d’autant que l’auteur le fait avec une finesse remarquable.

Je dois enfin reconnaître une grande qualité à l’auteur : moi qui n’aime généralement pas les scènes de batailles et les scènes d’action épiques, j’ai été totalement emporté par la bataille de la Plaine puis par la scène finale. Guy Gavriel Kay sait parfaitement doser l’action, les enjeux dramatiques et les émotions des personnages pour offrir des scènes puissantes et mémorables, sans en faire trop ni glisser vers le grand spectacle qui cherche uniquement à en mettre plein les yeux.

Vous l’aurez compris, j’ai autant aimé ce roman que le précédent, et je vais enchaîner directement avec le troisième et dernier tome de la trilogie.

20 April 2026

I keep encountering stars. Glow-in-the-dark stars at the dollar store (have gifted them to friends for their studios), the Big Dipper scooping the sky between Yena's flat and her neighbors' building when walking up the hilly driveway to her door, the wrapping paper Ruba used for my birthday gift, and most recently, a sort of wireframe star sculpture in the window of a flat I saw from the second deck of a bus I was on while passing through Denmark Hill. It was almost pressed against the glass like a prisoner, and at its base was what appeared to be a pile of clothes that receded into darkness. I printed the photo I took from my printer, which is low on black ink, so it printed as basically an inverse image. That made it look like a giant star-shaped wind turbine beginning to disintegrate while looming over a mountainous landscape. Happy 420 everyone.

18 April 2026

Another little chunk from my time in Jake's studio: before we started recording he was showing me a Bosch he was looking at. I want to say it was The Temptation of Saint Anthony (1501)—I'm remembering the fire in the distance and the distinctive warm/cool contrasted palette. After enjoying the sheer imagination on display and clocking the tumbling flatness of the composition (which I see Jake sometimes employing in his own way), we got to talking about the possibilities that emerge when the landscape is treated as an arena. How Kent functions that way for Jake. I shared with him how I've been spending time with Dieter Roth's 96 Piccadillies series (1977), which seems like it served a similar purpose at the time it was developed. I'm drawn to the idea of a contained ecosystem where performance, death, life, entry, and exit can happen when revisited and revisited and revisited. I think my arena is something like the world seen when the body or the eye is in motion, when colors and forms and sounds and language are filtered by a kind of regularly-intervening Doppler effect that constantly rearranges my sensory hierarchy.

16 April 2026

Great to talk with Jake for the podcast, many threads I'm looking forward to revisiting while editing, but one part that is stuck in my head right now is how he explained why people have been leaving his work over the past year or so. How the logic that supports what he's working towards can no longer accommodate them, how he feels like that door has been closed (I feel the same way, for now at least). But what struck a particular chord was his description of his paintings aiming for the feeling of the air in between the body and his subjects/motifs. I'm paraphrasing slightly there, will have to revise if necessary once I listen back to the recording. But I thought that was a lovely notion and a worthy pursuit.

It happens. My first experience wasn’t pleasant. In fact, I went to my college professor to change my placement. I was advised against it for resume purposes. Cooperating teachers will have different expectations for you. Some will expect you to be an expert fresh out of college with all the latest research and new ideas ready to go. Others will expect you to know the basics and will likely give you a tremendous amount of support. My experience made me a better teacher, but it wasn’t easy. My advice is to stick it out with your current placement. Listen to what this teacher is telling you. The only time I would advise leaving your placement if you truly feel disrespected or harassed in some way. For 99% of you, please remain in your placement and try to handle it to the best of your ability. This is challenging—trust me—I know from experience. If things aren’t going well, I would do the following to make most of the experience.

1. Ask what you can do to help this teacher. Teachers like getting help with grading, planning, writing lesson plans, attending extra-help to teach, and taking over a lesson. How can you make yourself an asset to this person?

2. Communicate as often as you can with this person. I have seen it where student teachers feel closed out. Also, I have seen great relationships between student and cooperating teachers.

3. Observe this teacher and try to emulate some of their behaviors and style. Now their style will be different from your own, but unfortunately, teachers can be judgmental and think your style is not effective. I did a little bending of my style during student teaching just to survive it. My cooperating teacher threatened to fail me, so temporarily to survive, I acted and became more like her. I’m sorry to even recommend this. For me, I didn’t want to retake the class with student loans on my back. Colleges don’t match teachers based on styles.

4. Try to make the life of this teacher easier. The sooner you start teaching the better.

5. Be open to all suggestions and criticisms. Don’t be offended by anything said or stated. It’s all to make you better!

6. Please remember student teaching isn’t forever. If your life is difficult for the moment, it will get better. Every teacher has something to offer you good or bad. Learn these lessons. Grow from them.

7. A lot of teaching is based on nepotism unfortunately. Try to maintain healthy and good relationships with people in your building. You’ll never know who might compliment you or help you get your first job.

8. Please have someone to talk to if the relationship is not working out. I spoke with my college professor and the person conducting my observations who was part of my college. Both were very supportive and no way connected to the school district. Stay professional!

My first experience was rough. After teaching for 15 years, I understand the first person I learned from, but nobody has to be mean and nasty. Cooperating teachers sometimes forget where they started. Please have a trusted friend or person to talk to in the event if your placement is not going well. You’re going to feel nervous, have anxiety, and need to work on building your confidence in this experience. Don’t judge the field from this experience.

I just got some advertisement. Apparently, I can get a discount on baking soda.

On seeing this, I was stricken by a powerful sensation of pointlessness.

It just came crashing in, like a wave

But it went away (like a wave)

And now again I’m feeling ”normal”

Hier volgt een waarschuwing voor alle inwoners van Smægmå. Gelieve u deuren en vensters altijd onder alle omstandigheden te sluiten. Nu bekend is geworden dat de natuur op deze wijze bij ons binnen kan dringen en dat dus zal doen aangezien het van zichzelf zo slecht is moet u dit kwaad met alle middelen tegen werken. Natuur moet zich houden aan de regels van de cultuur er mag nooit weer reden zijn voor herhaling van kwalijke zaken zoals die waarover we onlangs in de media stukjes hebben gelezen en gezien. Apen, beren, wolven, leeuwen, sprinkhanen, ratten, marters, tapirs, palingen, bevers, krokodillen, miereneters, olifanten, duiven, insecten, wilde paarden, vleesetende planten, mossen, tijgerslakken, waterbuffels, ratelslangen liggen of staan op de loer, wachten op een open deur en dan als u deze open zet treden ze meteen binnen, verwilderd en al, en daar eten ze u zelve, uw gezin, vrienden en kennissen op en vernietigen vervolgens met speels gemak het hele huis inclusief het fundament. Natuur hoort buiten binnen de aangewezen perken en cultuur overal elders rondom u, in schermen, op vloerkleedjes, op het behang, aan de wand, in potjes, lades, uit speakersetjes maar dat kan alleen als u deuren echt dicht houdt overal en altijd waar u ook bent, de gevolgen van die kieren, naden in de grens tussen u en hun, van de natuur, zijn anders niet te overzien. De staats deur en raam controleurs zullen vanaf nu iedere dag toezicht houden en u op indringend wijze waarschuwen als de aanwezige tegennatuurlijke isolatie de lading niet langer, bewust of onbewust, voldoende dekt! Vanaf heden tot nader orde door u begeleiders bepaalde onbepaalde tijd alle deuren en ramen overal altijd gesloten houden om het goede leven zoals het heden ten dage is te beschermen en behouden.

I've been privately journaling for a few years now, and just now decided to give into the occasionally resurfacing urge to write publicly. I'm not fully sure where that urge comes from, but given you're here, I'm sure you get it. Something about relating and being related to.

I've enjoyed reading some of the other blogs on here so far, and I especially enjoy the diversity. Some guy ruminating through an existential crisis in all lowercase followed by an article about corporate teamwork strategies. A lot of Christian-oriented writing too. I like Christianity. I was raised very Christian, the protestant kind with exorcisms, speaking in tongues and faith healings. I lost my faith at 15, but not before it left a huge impression on my perspective. Specifically, I really admire the intensity in the form of Christianity I grew up with. Some atheists seem to think religion is primarily some kind of comfort blanket, but there is nothing comforting about your parents (and me, by extension) believing there is a demonic being living in your house and influencing your dreams. To be fully fair to my parents, I vividly remember one instance when my mom brought up the possibility of a demonic presence in a conversation, and as soon as she did a light bulb in a nearby empty room shattered. We were all together near the front of the house, and the light was off. Normally I'd dismiss this as some distorted childhood memory, but my parents and a few of their friends who were present at the time still hold they experienced it. I've just decided to concede one point to the Christians on this one.

Anyways, to me, Christianity not only gave life a clear framework and aim, but it also treated the framework as if it really mattered. It wasn't some vague principle to “treat people kindly” or some comforting promise that Aunt Betty was looking down on the kids unwrapping Christmas presents, it was an active project to build a deeper relationship with God, to grow in wisdom, to introduce others to Jesus, and to live contrary to the world for the sake of salvation. Although I now disagree with the goal itself, the craving for that structure never fully dissolved. A fair amount of my journaling has been trying to rebuild something like that.

/

I feel lonely; that's something I was only able to admit to myself fairly recently. I mean, it should be obvious, who else journals besides people who are a little lonely?

I have a few friends, even a good friend, but none who live near me. We talk about once a week. For a long time I felt like that was more than enough. A low social battery or something. All of my friends have friends, and they don't know I don't.

I'm not socially incapable. I can go to parties, I can talk to people, some people even like me. But that wasn't always the case, specifically from elementary to high school. I didn't talk to anyone in any of my classes. I was nervous and didn't know what to say, I overthought every interaction and overinterpreted every signal.

Of course, by high school, I had already built an identity around being someone who didn't need others. I had my own private hobbies, my own interests, and an extreme sleep schedule that worked as a symbolic middle finger to functioning society. I didn't feel contempt towards people, but I also didn't feel actively drawn towards them. I mean, I was interested in people, but I was not interested in meeting people.

And then I started to have more casual conversations with acquaintances, and then I started going to more social events, and then I met a girl I liked and went on a few dates. Paradoxically, the more social I became, the lonelier I felt. I think that's because as I was able to lower my guard through exposure and social progress, more of my natural craving for connection is able to reveal itself. I may have not been Batman, I may have been lonely with retrospectively clear defense mechanisms.

So I've been feeling pretty lonely, but it's probably a good thing.

/

“Applebee's, Chuck E. Cheese, dirty deeds, don't you see? Fuck the valley fudge, my hate and my love”

I think that's what appeals to me most about Grandaddy and Jason Lyte, noticing the bleakness of modernity and responding with the warmest kind of irony. There seem to be two other common responses: sardonic irony, a perspective expressed by many punk-adjacent bands, or total assimilation.

Creating some distance, standing a little off to the side, yet still being able to feel warmth towards the absurdity of all the daycares and vending machines and fast food chains. That seems like the most maintainable perspective to me.

I filled the void of your world

With me, for the first time, you experienced what it’s like to feel whole

What it’s like to receive love and kindness

We only spent a little over an hour together

You told me I took a piece of you when I left

But you know by now I didn’t

That’s the void, you know?

From here, you are going to work backward to fill the missing piece on your own

Now that you know what goodness and wholesomeness feel like.

Nada hay que no sea. No necesita identidad.

¿Tienes imaginación para entrar y salir, quemarte a fuego lento y posar el corazón en rama?

Qué necesidad hay de decir algo si el piano canta, sus notas suaves me envuelven   en la fascinación de un mundo íntimo,  absolutamente real, y aunque alguien lo quisiera destruir, no hay cómo.