Futile Horn

09.19.2003 - 2:09 am (they will says you have killed a wise man)

So I finished reading The Apology today. After he is sentenced to death, Socrates gets all mythy, and talks about if the stories are true how it will be exciting to meet Rhadamanthus and Triptolemous and Aeacus and all the other good lads in the next life. Of course nowadays, the fantasy isn’t about an afterlife full of first class heroes; heaven is now a gathering of dead musicians. How many songs have I heard about Jimi and Janice and Jim Morrison hanging with John and George? And then hiphop artists. Aaliyah, and Left Eye and Tupac and Biggie. Huh, how ‘bout that. Alert the Lutherans: it’s the new indulgence: sell enough records, and you are eternally pardoned for anything, including murder. Damn well time. R.I.P. B.I.G.

Seriously though, Socrates seems to have been something of a freak. By all reports he had an extraordinary tolerance for poverty, public humiliation, cold, alcohol, and lack of sleep. He demonstrated conspicuous bravery in a battle climate and an almost unnatural fearlessness toward death. He also claimed to hear the voice of god that would prevent him from doing certain things such as running for office or getting up to go the bathroom at certain moments.

Well, small things at least. I’m sure potty came up one time or another

There is a story about a Spartan who came to Athens and marveled at the public toilets there. He said, “I would never sit anywhere where I couldn’t give my seat to an older man.”

That’s not such much funny as kinda gross.

A few mornings ago the dj asked Erin McKeown, “You look happy, are you happy?” and she said a lot of complex things were going on in her life, but as a musician, yes, she was as happy as she’s been in her professional career, indeed her life. At this point the drummer peeps up, “We’re happy too!” The dj barked back, “No one wants to know if the band is happy!” It was the most marvelous thing I’ve ever heard on a radio.

My goal in life is to be the greatest poker player that ever lived.

Born to play the funky céilí,
Futile Horn