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Musical accompaniment courtesy Mr. Louis Armstrong. Okay so the “so sweet, so cold, so fair” part is a bit of an exaggeration.  I mean, they’re clammy, yes, but not cold. Certainly not in the sense implied.  I do feel a bit like an infirmary worker, I will say that much.

Upside? I got these people in my life to care for, period.  Jasureyoubetcha, as they say in all-one-word in my erstwhile adoptive home of Minnesota.

*By the way: Freedom to Marry Week started yesterday, and lots of people are writing and talking about it in one way or another.  Mombian and Page One Q have something going on: The Only Agendais Love, and Freedom to Marry has Facebook, Myspace, and Twitter conversations going on. And Robin Reagler is hosting her Some/thing (Old, New, Borrowed, Blue) carnival again.  I’d have hoped to have posted a little something for each venue (the Agenda carnival and the Some/thing one).  The goal: find a fresh — and mutually uplifting? — take on the topic.  Unfortunately, St. James’ Infirmary calls.  Hope springs eternal that less will be springing internally, and soon.

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Couldn’t have said it better myself: a series by Maira Kalman, “The Inauguration. At Last.”

She’s been given a berth the last Friday of the month at The New York Times, “And the Pursuit of Happines,” in which she’ll explore American democracy.  I might find myself tempted every now and then to send you over there.  If her eye for detail and the moment continue to do such a fine job of conveying what I might have liked to have conveyed, had I been there.  Wherever there is.  Was.

[By the way: Kalman refers, in the series, to having listened to Lorraine Hunt Lieberson’s singing Bach cantatas en route down to Washington.  Which makes me want to say: listen to this.  Nine minutes six seconds.  And also say: here, here’s the second part.  And the third.  But just a minute sixteen seconds into the first part, that will do.  Her voice singing: Ich habe genug, I have enough.  (Also: I have had enough? Depends I suppose on what you’re listening for.)  Some might have seen her sing this, directed (I think) by Peter Sellars, decked out in hospital garb, indicating terminal illness.  When you know that she died quite young — quite, quite in her prime — of cancer.  Well.]

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Music puzzler

Okay, I could have foisted this trio of cameraphone videos on a pianist friend and asked her to try to identify the piece (hi, Skye!), but then I thought: wouldn’t it be more fun to ask the world wide internets?

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Yet another nifty thing off the internet

Erm. Cool visual used to be here (okay, from Jan 23 ’til late Jan 28) but you’ll have to link to it below to see it, since it may have been lousing up some folks’ Internet Explorer-mediated connections to this page? ?

Made from words in Obama’s inaugural speech, and found here. Thanks to granolasusan’s Twitter stream.  Press the “click to interact” jobbie and you’ll see it more clearly, and be able to fiddle with the words a bit.  Puts one to mind of Edward Tufte, just a little bit.

[And here, Stanley Fish offers a more analytical than visual take on the speech. Winding up, interestingly, at a point quite nicely depicted by the image above.]

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The tenacity of hope

What the man said, in 1978, not long before his assasination [with some gratuitous modern editorializing]:

Without hope, not only [white] gays, but those [nongay] Blacks, and the Asians, and the disabled, the seniors — the “us’s — the “us’s” — without hope, the us’s give up.  I know that you cannot live on hope alone.  But without it, life is not worth living.  And you, and you, and you have got to give ’em hope.

Thanks to Sara at Suburban Lesbian Housewife for my first viewing of this. 

And, in related news, we also have her to thank for alerting me to a link to an amicus brief to the California Supreme Court in defense of Prop 8 by a woman who’s an “heiress of The Almighty Eternal Creator,” on behalf of the almighty G_d him/herself.  Not kidding here.  Read it and weep.  And then don’t loose grip on that hope that Brother Harvey just instilled in you.  

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