Inform the metronome: A prisoner has flown

On December 1st, 2013, some concoction of nature, humanity, or both, was seen galavanting across the northern sky and spiralled out of control, careening down onto our heads. Reports of ear-witness accounts implicated some manifestation of a blue police box, a hollywood celebrity or religious saint, a tiny dragon, a tick-ticking clock, an unrequited love, and an enourmous pair of rainboots falling through an aurora borealis. As the panoply of conflicting testimony was unsatisfactory, we were compelled to investigated further.

This reporter was on the scene, burrowing deep into the inner voices and neurons of the newly silent, humbled audience. With unyielding journalistic prowess I was able to divulge what mouths wouldn’t speak, what voices could not inflect. I heard whispers on the surface of the mind, utterances of soul and wisdom. Some said –

I know I am too weak for my ambitions
I know I’ve faced these demons down before
But some amnesia keeps me on a mission
Some inner lunatic I still have not learned to ignore

The words took the path of least resistance and sprang between those around me as well as those farther away. Together, we laughed and we cried and we laughed again, clockwise and counter. We turned and turned, our glowing boxes illuminating soft light and darkening the sky. I lifted the glow in the direction which was at that moment still up and tried to capture the moment. But I couldn’t see, and I worried I was not up to the task. It wasn’t about the task, only the risk. I listened to the lightning overhead.

O turn me southbound to the sea, the paper and the pen and me
O cut the electricity, oh wheel Orion over me
Oh spin the stars and spun I’ll be
The paper and the pen and me

The sky and the earth wheeled over and under, trying to trade places or create new ones. The ground and the air shook, carbon and sulphur dioxide reverberating on all sides. As I felt myself fracturing into the crevasses, and the mood seemed altogether hopeless, just at that moment, further whispers rippled the surface –

But my hope is not light, it is not frail, it is the anchor anchor
My hope is not slight, it’s not the sail, it is the anchor, oh…  

I felt my sense of self flittering away as I joined the congealing mass of fellow and friend. Our individuality but a faint fuzzy memory, I allowed our heart into our eyes. I had wanted to resist, break away, and be re-formed molecule by molecule, valence by valence. I could hear the song.

And it’s the rocks that grind us down into the sea the sea the sea
It’s the rocks that grind us down into the sea

I didn’t resist any more. So together, we took our quarrel to ground, to pulpy white, ruled, sheets of paper. Our hands rode on a curved lexical road, swerving between jagged dialectical peaks. The keyboard artillery division was shell-less and out of ammo. Together we picked up a leather-bound door, held our nose high and jumped. That clock looked on, speaking nothing but tick tock tick, and gave no indication of stopping, but we paid it no mind. We set our eye on the task at hand. We opened that door and spread through all those other worlds, seeds to the wind, recalling and remembering what we will always know.

It’s easy to slip time into your pocket.


Sketchbook is a new album by Marian Call. You can listen to the entire album for free using the embedded player along the right column of this post, or you can follow the link at the bottom right of the player to bandcamp.
You can read Marian’s celebratory blog post about Sketchbook, which was released December 1st, 2013, and discover other amazing things on her website.

Disclaimer: This is not a review.



So, I woke up yesterday to the uncomfortable realization that there was no way I was going to finish any of my articles in time to post on Monday. Naturally, I resolved myself to rectify the situation in an unorthodox manner, so today we’re going to be doing something a little different. Hold on to your hats.

As I was drifting off to sleep the night before, I was listening to an episode of one of my favourite podcasts, Radiolab. One of the hosts (I’m not so sure about the other) was extremely enthusiastic about a band he had recently discovered, Dawn of Midi, a trio based in Brooklyn, and he proceeded to win over our allegiance and get us into the groove.

I was also ominously inspired by their music’s peculiar combination of tedium and trance. The speakers seeped technological blood with a human plasma. So, when I opened my eyes early Sunday morning and saw all around me the echoes of human civilization without any humans, who were all asleep or otherwise indisposed, I decided I was going to make a film. What you will find at the bottom of this page is a ‘music video’ of sorts I set to one of Dawn of Midi’s songs from their new album, Dysnomia. Here we go.

I awoke early Sunday morning to a world of suggestions

Suggestions of humanity lay on the ground
Ran through the pipes
Scraped the door handles
Were embedded in the walls
Lingered in the air

Yet I pushed forward
Extruding minutes and seconds into membranes of automotive propulsion
Stretching as in yawning
its atonal tentacles

I heard the narrative of life on the boombox
waxing and waning
Swerving and bending
Soliloquizing and proselytizing
to everyone and no one
It is mostly silent

In the beginning and in the end
A primordial soup of nitrogen and paint
These morph into our tones and our rhythm
The ghosts of our machine
Evident in our technological brethren and kin
Precipitating our drive and our fuel
A coffee
A light switch
A button
Turning us on to our day
Proposals of life

All I could see were suggestions

Inheriting the rhythm of life

In the dawn of midi

The song is “Moon” from the album Dysnomia by Dawn of Midi (Dysnomia is also the name of a real life moon). All rights, copyrights, and privileges remain with the original creators.
The above video was conceptualized, filmed, and edited on the day of October 20, 2013. All video was captured with an iPhone 4S using the built-in camera app. The film was cut in Adobe Premiere. No video effects were used.

Here’s the episode of Radiolab concerning Dawn of Midi.
Here’s their homepage where you can listen to and buy their fantastic music.

UPDATE: The video I created to go along this post was taken down from YouTube due to a copyright violation notice from a music conglomerate. I doubt the original creators of the music instigated the takedown, however, I will respect the copyright and not repost the video.