Keeping score is a Braille record of the game, feeling the innings and statistics stretch, one by one. It is something to hold onto, something deeper than the drunken mayhem of the far reaches of the upper deck. Out there — even deeper than last time, now behind the stadium’s speakers — Ivan Neville’s rendition of the national anthem is almost literally avant-garde. Whole notes form ill-fitting harmonies with those on either of side of them in the melody.
Even the echo of the bat is gone, as is the announcer. The scoreboard is an unreadable sliver. In the eighth, we figure out that Manny Mota is pitching because the name on the back of the jersey is short and the number is somewhere in the 50s. On my lap, the scorecard is a languid other-world, far from the chants (“En-dy C,” “En-dy Cha-vez” and just “En-dy” all compete after a Ron Swaboda-like miracle catch) and the chill (which will surely be worse at future games).
The innings occasionally widen, only once filled with the black wedges that represent runs (Carlos Beltran’s two-run shot in the sixth), and sometimes aberrations (Beltran’s 8-3 double-play from centerfield to first base) (booya!), but mostly they roll by like a river and keep pulse: the heartbeat of a season extended nine more innings.
o The PhantasyTour message boards, where the Phish parking lot lives on, are many things. Rarely, however, are they as brilliant as the thread that began several weeks ago with the subject “moe. = missionary position sex…” and went from there. (Random sampling: “Brothers Past = boning an emo chick just to see what it’s like. Turns out, not that bad.”)
o An unusually well-written baseball profile by John Koblin in the New York Observer, about Mets’ starter John Maine. (Thanks, MetsBlog.)
o These lists make the rounds every few years, but here is an updated page of how much it costs to book bands at colleges via the Man. (James Brown: $100,000; Huey Lewis, $150,000. Hmm. (Go Josh!)
o Yo La Tengo’s Ira Kaplan listed his faves for both Pitchfork and eMusic recently.
o A great piece from the New York Review of Books reviewing a bunch of books about Google, the Long Tail, and such. (Word, Joey.)
Since the last update from wunderkammern27.com’s Ordovician Archives, Dr. Tuttledge has traveled to Nigeria. Though he has remained in constant contact regarding his collection of oral histories related to the narratives transmitted by what he deemed “Urgent Message” artifacts (classified as “419 scams” by other scholars), Dr. Tuttledge has been unable to maintain his own observational work. The Center for Anthropological Computing — whose ever-expanding collections continue to be stored in Manhattan — has received applications for our still-open intern position, though none have yet met Dr. Tuttledge’s exacting standards.
In the meantime, we would like to present one new discovery that has earned a spot in the Archives. It is a classic type 1 goods-for-sale message, but it mimics the form of a MySpace notification. It is a strategy that employs the message type’s perfect ubiquity to cloak it against both humans and electronic filters. All of us here at the CAC are duly impressed and doff our hats. (The accompanying gibberish is pretty interesting, as well.)
From: New MySpace Message
Date: Saturday, October 7, 2006 2:32 AM
Subject: New message from Ruth on MySpace sent on Oct 07 02:20:00 -4 2006
You’ve got a new song from Ruth on MySpace!
Click here to hear your MySpace music:
http://myspace.mp3piat.com/?reloc.cfm=6&id=78730
Click here to get 5-free songs downloaded to Your Space:
http://myspace.mp3piat.com/?reloc.cfm=6&id=7873096909_5free
————————-
At MySpace we care about your privacy. We have sent you this notification to facilitate your use as a member of the MySpace service. If you don’t want to receive emails like this to your external email account in the future, change your Account Settings to “Do not send me notification emails”
Click here to change your Account Settings:
http://myspace.mp3piat.com/?account.settings=update=6&id=78730
MySpace Inc. – 1900 Wilshire Blvd. 2109, Los Angeles, CA 90403-5400 USA
©2006 MySpace Inc. All Rights Reserved
5. EXPORT RESTRICTIONS. Licensee agrees not to export or re-export the Licensed Materials to any country, person, entity or end user subject to U.S.A. export restrictions. Licensee warrants and represents that neither the U.S.A. Bureau of Export Administration nor any other federal agency has suspended, revoked or denied Licensee’s export privileges. By installing the Software, Licensee agrees to the foregoing and Licensee is representing and warranting that they are not located in, under the control of, or a national or resident of any such country.
1. Game overview
RESPONSIBILITIES FOR SELECTION OF
– What makes it different from other systems?
the wrapper-script named ‘curl’ that is a front-end to curl in this case.
– Debian bug report 338681 by Jan Kunder: make curl better detect and report
Added support for a second FTP server in the test suite. Named… ftp2.
Assess CMP compliance
compliance with the terms hereof, permits you to Use
– Nodak Sodak reported a crash when using a SOCKS4 proxy.
Daniel (14 March 2005)
Nationals or the U.S. Commerce Department‚s Table of Deny
___________________
with any of your obligation or conditions of this Agreement.
switching between 25/50 lines.
(Temporarily) disabled the ability to re-use an existing connection for the
To create a “No Networking” hardware profile,
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END-USER LICENSE AGREEMENT
10. If you wish to incorporate parts of the Program into other free
Capture/Review LL
PROPRIETARY RIGHTS INFRINGEMENT.
formpost part, without special characters having special meanings etc like
authorized to Operate or use the Product in any way.
– Now the test script disables valgrind-testing when the test suite runs if
BE BOUND BY AND ARE BECOMING A PARTY TO THIS
Intel 740
distribution and on any media you distribute that includes
buffer. If it is set to 0, the default size (0x10000 bytes) is used.
of strerror_r() API that is used when cross-compiling. If __GLIB__ is
a). Trial Version.
– “Proxy-Connection: Keep-alive”
– Define CURL_MULTIEASY when building libcurl (lib/easy.c to be exact), to use
8. TERM. The license granted hereunder is effective until
Diffie-Hellman key types.
# try the stock configs to see if the problem is a configuration
agree that the Product may be subject to restrictions and
Can have one of the following values:
4.2.5Software Configuration Management
OSSMA ˆ Office of Systems Safety & Mission Assurance
of digit and/or symbols provided to you by the Company
Over the weekend, I spent some time recording, and finally started a MySpace page for Funny Cry Happy. Included are the two demos I just made, “No Wonder” and “Textual Healing,” and a few songs from On A Clear Night, You Can Smell For Miles. I’ll post more as they’re ready.
Watching the Mets celebrate after their three-game sweep of the Dodgers on Saturday night, I again had the thought that I probably wouldn’t enjoy actually hanging out with any of them at a bar. They’re jocks after all, probably the same breed that did their best to make my life miserable in high school. What could we possibly have to talk about? But I still like them. It makes me happy to see Jose Reyes in the dugout, smiling and bobbing his head around. All of my assumptions about Reyes, though, come from trying to read into his minute variations on a very strict set of behaviors as a fielder, batter, and runner. Everything I think is probably grossly inaccurate, but that’s kind of the fun of it.
In watching baseball, I pay attention to people that I often cannot relate to in any way: physically, emotionally, financially, culturally. That’s kind of weird to me, I think. In theory, what we have in common is an interest in the sport, but I’m not sure how far that would go conversationally. Seeing the Taiwanese starter Hong-Chih Kuo — only one big league victory to his record — pitch against the Mets in game two, the dudes calling the game mentioned that if Kuo doesn’t succeed in the majors, he’ll be sent back to Taiwan, where he’ll be forced to enlist in the army. Clearly, baseball means something entirely different to Kuo than it does to me. In that sense, it’s a pretty abstract tongue, and one impossible to literally verbalize. It is irreducible, the language itself. It is spoken elegantly this time of year.
The drama of the upper deck is all misinformation. High above the foul poles, the sounds ricochet, like Branford Marsalis’s instrumental “Star Spangled Banner.” It echoes from the PA towers, all neutered soprano sax. “You suck!” someone shouts, but most people just stand, shifting their feet. Elsewhere, noises delay and cross, owing to the sheer size of the arena, like the polyphonic “Let’s go Mets!” chants that thunder at different tempos and from different starting points and collide like a Charles Ives orchestration. The chants, especially, are amazing: spur of the moment decisions by the collective, crunching names into a small library of flexible syllable patterns (“Car-los Bel-tran!” “M.V.P.!”). Sometimes, no consensus is reached, and the chants whither away like smoke (but not before more chaos).
Mostly, the game is far away and it is hard to see the ball. The mezzanine swallows the deep corner of right field itself. The crack of the bat is unreal, one sound in many. When the ball is hit in the air, it is like being thrust into an optical illusion, nearly impossible to tell if its movement is hard or soft, high up or just over the infielders’ heads, or even fair or foul. Adjusted to the dimensions, the ball still lands in totally unpredictable places, like David Wright’s bloop double into right in the seventh. A run scores, and the chanting starts all over again.
Pretty much the standard complaint against the World Series runs something like this: “It’s not really the World Series, is it? They’re just American teams, man.” Well, maybe, but the players are far from all American. Though I’m reasonably sure most major league franchises are as equally diverse, there still seems something particularly New Yawk about the Mets’ international patchwork.
They’ve got corn-fed submariners named Chad from Jackson, Mississippi and power-hitting scumbags named Paul, from Brooklyn. But they’ve also got players from the Dominican Republic, Cuba, and Venezuela. And until the General Manager (also Dominican) traded him for sucking, even a dude from Japan named Kaz who bugged his eyes out at unpredictable moments. (And though he doesn’t technically count as part of the international contingent, I was also quite pleased when they acquired a good Jewish boy named Shawn in the post-All Star Break force-marshalling.)
Baseball is a game of statistics. They exist so one might reasonably compare one player to any other, to find out which one is the Best. The Major League happens to be the league of record. Should the proper business interests establish a franchise in, say, the Dominican Republic, it would likely just become the same melting pot as any other organization. If one’s got an interest in baseball, the United States is where he goes. It’s not globalization, y’understand, it’s baseball. What the hell do you expect? So, the World Series it is.
All of which is to say: LET’S GO METS.
“I’m Your Puppet” – Yo La Tengo (download here)
from Mr. Tough 7-inch (2006)
released by Matador
1. Here’s the newest obscura, a literal B-side from the “Mr. Tough” single: a cover of Dan Penn and Spooner Oldham’s “I’m Your Puppet.” Presumably a Beat Your Ass leftover, it’s got lovely strings (David Mansfield?), and is a welcome addition to the late-night playlist.
2. To reach the resources of the old YoLaTengo.net, one now has to use the Wayback Machine at archive.org to consult a mirror of the old YLT.net via the now-old version of sunsquashed.com. The URLs get pretty hilarious. It is here (no graphics, so just, like, wave your arrow over the links to find what yer looking for).
3. So, apparently, there was a BBC session, recently? I seemed to have missed this. Some curious covers on the setlist. Anybody end up with a copy?
4. YLT played in Jersey City on Friday.
Yo La Tengo at the Landmark Loew’s Jersey Theatre
29 September 2006
Why? opened
Sugarcube
Pass The Hatchet, I Think I’m Goodkind
Flying Lesson (Hot Chicken #1)
The Weakest Part
Sometimes I Don’t Get You
Winter A Go Go
Mr. Tough
Beanbag Chair
I Feel Like Going Home
Stockholm Syndrome
I Should Have Known Better
Watch Out For Me, Ronnie
Tom Courtenay
The Story of Yo La Tango
I Heard You Looking
*(encore 1)*
Oklahoma USA (The Kinks)
Lewis
Rocks Off (The Rolling Stones)
*(encore 2)*
Cast A Shadow (Beat Happening)
Did I Tell You?
