Saw the living legend — Jethro Tull — yesterday. The Roman Amphitheatre in Caesarea is a perfect setting — older even than Jethro Tull themselves. They opened with the excellent Life is a Long Song and Living in the Past and it went on to be better and better. Yes — Ian is a big man who plays a very little guitar, he jumps around on the stage, dances silly British folk dances, and of course — plays his flute with his foot up. And he tells silly jokes. It was wonderful — they are true professionals and they have soul too. There were some weak points, let’s finish with it quickly: first, Budapest is completely un-Tull, it would fit Lou Reed maybe. They should’ve played Thick as a Brick instead, and there are around 2000 people to agree with me, but then i’ve seen Brick played very well by Eggroll, so it’s OK. Also, there was Martin Barre’s solo instrumental, which can serve as a definition of the “guitar-virtuoso” style, which i am not particularly fond of. But r0z would probably love it. Then there were the folksy, mostly instrumental, numbers from the recently released “Jethro Tull Christmas Album” and Ian Anderson’s “Rupi’s Dance”. And they were even good, but Ian himself said something in the lines of “This is very bad programming … The ‘Christmas Album’ stuff means nothing at all to you”. And on that Hadar remarked — “I thought they were supposed to be heavier” and it sums it up very well.
But why whine, when there were the heavy Aqualung and also a marvelous rendition of Mother Goose with the keyboardist Andrew Giddings playing block flute through his nose. And the brillant, passionate electrobluesy New Day Yesterday. And the giant balloons with a picture of Ian thrown at the crowd during the encore.
Plus — i was really happy that i bought the expensive seats. It really changes the picture. Whoa, i’m filthy rich.
“All those songs are in Greek. I don’t understand them.” — Hadar’s father watching the Closing Ceremony of the XXVIII Olympiad.
I did understand one, though — “Misirlou”, made world-famous by Quentin Tarantino, who used Dick Dale’s version in “Pulp Fiction.” Apparently it’s Greek. I even heard the Greek chanteuse sing the word “misirlou” in the chorus; i still don’t know what it means.
Sports? Yeah, i watched some. Athletics is nice to watch, even when there are no Israelis.
So, nev asked me to explain that poem i wrote. It’s called “Shouted Words 1”, which means that these words (or most of them) were “shouted” at my ears by an unknown entity. That’s right — i hear voices. It usually happens a few minutes before i fall asleep, so i guess it’s a kind of an “audio-dream”, but when i experience it i am quite aware of it. I asked a few other people if it happens to them and they said no. Maybe they just never noticed and maybe i’m insane.
The first time it happened, a few years ago, it sounded like all members of dEUS are shouting some song of theirs at me. Sometimes it sounds like my parents, sometimes like my friends and sometimes like myself, but most of the time it sounds like people that i don’t know. It can be in English, Russian and Hebrew and also in Gibberish and Unknown Languages (which are different things). Sometimes i like to think that it’s God saying something to me; it’s a shame i never remember it. This was the first time i wrote it down (jumped out of bed to do that!), hence it’s called “number 1”.
As for the words themselves — the first few lines were fixed by me to look like a poem, but the ideas are taken from the so-called “quality” practices of my workplace. The final lines (in italics) are written down word-by-word. That, i guess, is some kind of personal unconscious reflection on my strife to be more responsible and pedantic — the unattainable perfection; the omnipotence of slack.
I won’t translate it, because i can’t imagine translating dreams; i don’t think that i have the right to translate something that i created unconsciously. If you liked the “audio-dream” concept, you can just hope that one day i’ll have it in other languages.
Amir G. was promoted, to a different department. That’s it, he’s not my boss anymore. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.