Not sure of the ultimate source of this. But here’s a Christmas decoration you wouldn’t want to miss.

Classics Today decided to devote American Turkey day to reviewing what it considers to be some turkeys. It’s quite obvious that the reviewers enjoyed themselves. In fact, they even admitted as much.

Reviewing music is such a subjective business; few and far-between are the opportunities to cover a disc so horrendous that you can trash it and know that there can be no dissent, that you speak objective truth. So when my colleague at CTFrance.com, Christophe Huss, called me up and said, “You have to hear Angela East’s Bach Cello Suites; they are the worst ever,” I was naturally excited. I respect Christophe tremendously, but even so, well, you know how hysterical those French critics can be. Still, the cover looked promising: there is Ms. East, (blurrily) sitting barefoot on a rock in a billowing red dress, about to be swamped by a giant wave. Would the performances themselves, purportedly “authentic” in approach, match the cheesy quality of the graphics?

Among the victims, besides Ms. East, are David Fray’s recording of Bach, Marc Minkowski’s recording of the Bach B Minor Mass, and a Chandos release of Bernstein’s Mass.

The Minkowski receives the kindest treatment–or at least, the one that did not unchain the reviewer’s inner muse.

There’s a big difference between authenticity with respect to circumstance and being true to the work in question. This release offers a case in point. It may be that 10 singers and single players per part (more or less) is what Bach had at his disposal, but this can scarcely do the music justice. The two great Kyrie fugues, the Sanctus/Osanna, and the conclusions of the Gloria and Credo sound pathetic. Even worse, conductor Marc Minkowski has singers (the tenors particularly) who do not blend, who never constitute a believable “chorus” (try the opening of the Credo for a particularly atrocious example), and whose pronunciation of the text isn’t even consistent (try the sopranos in the Christe eleison). Add scrappy strings and an acoustic whose excessive resonance only makes the forces sound even smaller, and the result is one of the worst modern performances of the B minor Mass, plain and simple. Yecch!

[Hmm, I don't remember it being anywhere near that bad, although he certainly has a point about the resonance. Have to take another listen to it this weekend, I guess.]

Also receiving a relatively restrained reproof are Fray and a HIP performance of Chopin. But things heat up with Lenny.

This performance has two things going for it: the Tölzer Knabenchor, and Randall Scarlata’s dignified and well-sung performance as the Celebrant. Everything else is simply vile. Kristjan Järvi conducts as if he’s late for an appointment somewhere (anywhere) else. The opening Kyrie is a blur, the text incomprehensible, while the climactic Dona Nobis Pacem is chaotic in a bad way. The individual street singers are mostly awful. I can accept the thick German accent in “World Without End”–indeed, it could have been kind of cool in a decadent sort of way–but Ruth Kraus can’t even pronounce the words. The “blues” singer in the Confession sounds more like he ought to be yodeling on an Alp. The principal soloist in “God Said” hams it up in a sorry parody of the real Broadway style, and it’s all recorded as a horrible multi-track pop album extravaganza, with the solo voices way, way too close. Disgusting. Avoid at all costs.

Well, I wasn’t planning on buying that one anyway….

But poor, poor Ms. East. Here’s the rest of the review

I put on the disc, and Voila! Indeed this is the worst-ever recording of these works, playing so tonally hideous, musicianship so lacking in taste, in basic musicality, that it surely deserves to become the Bach party record of choice for years to come. But, make no mistake, it’s terribly historically informed. Only years of academic study could produce a result this senseless. I know, I know–you think I exaggerate. Just spend a few moments listening [I'm not going to listen to it after this review!--K.]to the concluding Gigue of Suite No. 3: every phrase is played with different (and unrelated) dynamics, articulation, tempo–it’s a musical vivisection. Or listen to East grind her way through the Sarabande of the D minor suite. Is there a tune in there somewhere? Nah! Bad cello playing, it’s often said, sounds like a dying cow, but East puts a new spin on that image: she sounds like a dying mad cow. It’s that grotesque.

Happily, the sonics are fully worthy of the performances: atrociously close and airless, capturing every gasp, sniffle, snort, and a whole panoply of performance noises, from the clicking of fingers pressing on the strings to the thump of the bow in double stops. But there’s more! As a special bonus we get PICTURES, because East relates the keys of the suites to specific colors. Black (C minor) is particularly charming: it features East sitting in an enormous spider web in a black pantsuit and purple scarf. Any giant spiders out there care for a quick snack?

Dying mad cows…just what we need.

:

For two co-workers:
Jennifer B., who is waiting for the results of a breast biopsy
Lilly F., whose husband passed away this week

It has room for approximately 6000 passengers (and about a third as many crew), and has enough onboard diversions that you may not even notice you’re at sea: Oasis of the Seas

For comparison purposes, the last cruise ship to be greeted with this amount of hoopla, the Queen Mary 2, can carry a little over 2600 passengers, has a length of 1132 feet, and a tonnage of 151,400

Carl Prydum (at Got Medieval) explains it all, with one of the items that is part of the Staffordshire Hoard.

Tam has a post up about the delights of driving in Indianapolis, which sounds almost as delightful as driving in Miami:

One thing that’s always baffled me is the profusion of exotic automobiles you’ll see in downtown Indy of a weekend evening. The streets around the circle are almost crowded with exotic German, American, British, and Italian cars. Why anybody would take a stiffly-sprung, low-slung sports car with low-profile tires and a manual transmission and go drive it through that cratered hellhole of traffic lights and one-way streets at parking lot speeds for fun is completely beyond me.

Yes, almost like Miami, except for the Spanish.

Her remark does remind me of the definition of frustration once given by a co-worker of mine.
A Lamberghini driving through a school speed zone.

Or at least in Canberra.

Saturday the 17th of October was an amazing day of history making for our nation of Australia as around 200 Christian prayer warriors from across the country converged on our capital city Canberra to pray and repent on Mount Ainslie, a strategic high place considered to be the headquarters of satanic activity. All glory to our Most High God as the spiritual warfare prayer mission was very successful in enforcing the victory of the Cross of Christ over the forces of darkness through the supernatural power of the Holy Spirit!
As hundreds and perhaps thousands of Christian men, women, and children from nearly every denomination gathered in strategic high places, churches and homes across the nation with the same focus to repent, pray and declare Australia for Jesus, Satan’s kingdom of darkness was thrown into complete confusion as it was so clearly demonstrated on Mount Ainslie in Canberra!

Other reports from the battlefield differ. At the very least, Satan’s minions weren’t leaving without a fight.

Apart from a protest and pious people gathered on a hill, what does one expect of an exorcism? It was very easy to conjure up Hollywood associations, spinning heads and all. The reality was the weirdest festival you’ve ever been to. The crowd of 200 divided neatly into about a third Catch the Fire followers, another third gay and atheist activists, Wiccans and metal t-shirt wearing young people and the remainder were a bewildered group of observers in the circus. These three groups, I wager, will never likely be seen together again.
Entering into the crowd of Nalliah devotees, Christian and Australian flags waving, was akin to going to a pokies venue on Christmas eve – people desperate, alienated and confused participating in something that gives them hope. Nalliah at the centre of it dressed in white suit jacket, shades and a small mega phone permanently in front of his face spoke much of forgiveness and healing of the nation, interjected only with the odd “hallelujah” and “praise Jesus”. Many in the crowd spoke in tongues or mumbled prayers, the first of a series of communions on different parts of the hill, the relocation of the prayers perhaps to do with the spiritual mapping (which would be?).
In the background near the “black altar” – a communication tower further up the hill – were protesters singing It’s Raining Men and waving placards. Into the middle of the Catch the Fire group walked a young gay man who stripped down to his underwear and threw his arms in the air, facing off with Nalliah and his entourage. Other protesters adorned themselves in rainbow flags, witches’ hats and t-shirts with slogans: “I am what you are afraid of”

As to what sparked this divine offensive (from a prebattle report):

According to my colleagues from News Ltd.’s Satan Watch desk in the parliamentary press gallery — well, actually, I think that’s been the mission statement for Lord Rupert’s entire gallery contingent since the Ruddbot and his devil-worshipping cabal of devil worshippers drew their first pentagram on the big table in the Cabinet Room — well, anyway, they reckon that the Rev. Danny reckons that, “there is a spiritual fight over the nation of Australia being fought in the heavens” and that although most people don’t believe in the Devil he is like, totally real, and just look at the number of divorced politicians if you don’t believe him.
Pastor Danny, a former running mate of Family First Sen. Steve Fielding, is headed Canberra way this weekend to lead a prayer meeting of at least a handful of Christians concerned about the discovery of a “Black Mass altar” on Mount Ainslie recently.
“The type of altar discovered on Mount Ainslie pointed to a black mass and the work of dark forces wanting to cast spells on Australia and Federal Parliament,” according to Nalliah. Actually what it probably points to are a couple of discarded condoms and Nudie juice bottle bongs. But what the hell, I’m going to be in Canberra this weekend, and it’s not often you get to battle Evil with a capital ‘E’.

And yes indeed this Pastor Danny does blame the downfall of Australian society on all those divorced politicians.

Asked what evidence of Satan there was in parliament, Mr Nalliah said: “The number of politicians who have serious marriage problems.”
Legislation supporting homosexuality, abortion and a push for a bill of rights were other areas where the devil was having influence.

Pictures of the battle in progress can be seen at the CatchtheFire link.

H/T Lucymonster

Out of work TV exec comes up with a new app for the Iphone.

“I speak two languages, I’ve won a bunch of Emmys, and I’m pretty much qualified to do a whole bunch of things,” Sherno, 50, says. “But all my contacts in the TV industry are searching for work as well.”
It’s enough to make a guy want to mete out some justice.
“‘Shoot a banker’ ran through my mind,” Sherno says. “I’m not an inherently violent kind of guy, but a lot of people were angry.”
Also, he had an iPhone.
So Assassin FPS, the first iPhone application from Sherno’s one-man company which he runs out of his Silver Spring home, Differentium LLC, was sort of inevitable. The first-person shooter game uses the iPhone’s built-in camera, but instead of shooting at computer-generated enemies, the target in Assassin FPS is whatever’s in front of you. Once you’ve selected from weapons like an AK-47, a bazooka, a laser blaster, or even Nerf darts, the weapon and its crosshair appear over the objects—or people—in your viewfinder, and you can commence blowing them into the next realm.

Apple’s initial objections had nothing to with the violence factor, and everything to do with the fact that it relied on the Iphone’s camera feature

Apple initially rejected the app, not because of its content, Sherno says, but because it used the iPhone’s camera. “Apparently we were too far ahead of the curve,” Sherno says. So he and and coder Kris Zabala dumbed down the guts and pitched the game a second time, only to have Apple reject it again. It wasn’t until June, when Android, an open-source mobile operating system used by Google, began incorporating the camera into its apps to create “Augmented Reality,” that Apple was forced to follow suit. (Augmented reality is a technology that allows visual data to be projected over the image in a mobile phone’s camera.) The company released a new application programming guide last month, Sherno and Zabala re-applied, and bingo: They were in the Apple store.

Of course, there is a political angle to the story

Sherno created an appropriately violent YouTube trailer to promote the game. “[I]t shows the user shooting Rush Limbaugh, Dick Cheney, and Nancy Pelosi,” he says. “I got in some hot water with and took out Pelosi and Cheney—but left in Rush. No one really cares about Rush.”

Found here via Radley

A Titanic Memorial Cruise, following her route across the Atlantic with a special memorial service exactly one hundred years after she had her rendevous with destiny.

No word yet if DiCaprio, Winslet, or an iceberg will make a special appearance.

Someone who blogs under the name “whyevolutionistrue” goes to great pains to make sure that Richard Dawkins is absolutely opposed to any kind of religion other than atheism, in case any of us thought otherwise, and at the end writes this:

Now that Dawkins has verified this, it would be nice to see Rosenau, Mooney, and Kirshenbaum correct their postings. And they need to stop pretending that the existence of religious scientists and religious people who accept evolution proves that science and faith are compatible. We settled that issue long ago. The issue is philosophical compatibility. Is that really so hard for anyone to understand?

What he fails to understand is that far from being incompatible, science needs religion–or more precisely, needs God the Creator of the Universe.

It boils down to this: if there is no God, then the universe is simply an accumulation of matter that at its core is utterly random and chaotic; what came to be, came to be simply by pure chance and accident, and the apparent orderliness which we perceive is simply an illusion, an island of order in an megaocean of chaos. Sheer probability will tell us that in a sufficiently large area of chaos, there will appear small areas of apparent order. (And we won’t get into the ramifications of the fact that probability itself assumes a fundamentally ordered universe.)

But science is based on the premise that the universe is indeed ordered, that it can be coherently investigated and explained–and that therefore it was created.

Along the same lines we can make an updated version of Pascal’s wager: if there is no God, then any order and meaning we give to it is arbitrary and imposed on existence by our minds, and not by any internal characteristic of existence. Therefore, we may as well believe in God, since if we are wrong, we are merely adopting one out of a number of possible arbitrary impositions of meaning.