god or whoever-it-is help me

I may have figured out why certain of my pages and posts attract so much spam. I often use the word, “organ.” Ahem. Could be wrong but I have one page that attracts tons of viagra ads. It is the list of pieces in Bach’s orgelbuchlein that use tunes in the Hymnal 1982. I just checked and this page doesn’t have the English word, “organ,” on it. So I guess I’m wrong.

Eileen has her loom assembled and has started a project.

Very cool.

Speaking of something being “very cool.” I recently had an email where the writer apologized for using the word, “cool.” Excuse my sixties jargon, he said. Or something like that.

I use the word, “cool,” a lot. I prefer to think of it as being shallow not stuck in the sixties. Or is that the same thing?

I admit I was jarred this morning when reading Clive Thompson on the New Literacy on the Wired site.

Of course, good teaching is always going to be crucial, as is the mastering of formal academic prose. But it’s also becoming clear that online media are pushing literacy into cool directions. The brevity of texting and status updating teaches young people to deploy haiku-like concision. At the same time, the proliferation of new forms of online pop-cultural exegesis—from sprawling TV-show recaps to 15,000-word videogame walkthroughs—has given them a chance to write enormously long and complex pieces of prose, often while working collaboratively with others.

(emphasis added)

Hmmm. Even this broken down old hippie was startled at the juxtaposition of the first and second sentence in this excerpt.

But whutchugunnadew?

I’m about 2/3rds done with my Bach cantata transcription. This is my annual exercise in futility, I guess. BWV 26, mov 1 is suggested for the  24th Sundayafter Pentecost Proper 28B in my handy dandy index. I would dearly love to do it that Sunday in Novement, but we’ll see.

I sent out an email with a request that choristers attend the rehearsal prior to service if they intend to sing that Sunday. Pissed off half the choir. I give up.

I’m beginning to have my usual suspicions that I am more a part of the problem than than the solution at church. I have reckless dreams of doing superb music. Like today. I’m playing some Shearing and Mendelssohn on the organ. I want it to be good. I practiced twice yesterday. Once in the AM and once in the PM. If it’s not good, it’s not because this old hack didn’t put in the prep time.

But I’m dreading having to try to be sensible and communicative with people who are unhappy with me and my direction. Even worse is the way so many of the talented people in the parish ignore me. I have been staying for the coffee hour for several weeks. I think this is the work of a good church musician. It’s just something I’m bad at and dread: schmoozing.

My problem is that I shoot myself in the foot with being eccentric in a small town. Even the liberals find me a bit hard to take.

But toujours gai, archie, toujours gai. There’s some life in the old gal yet.

I have been thinking a lot about organ music lately as well as choral music. I have the Bach C major prelude, adagio and fugue almost entirely learned. I am working on the fugue. I have William Bolcolm’s clever, lovely, difficult (for me anyway) piece on “Sometimes I feel like a motherless child” almost learned. I have been pounding on Arvo Part’s “Mein Weg hat Gipfel und Wellentäler” for organ and am beginning to think I could perform it in public sometime.

Well back to Bach. Then church. God or whoever-it-is help me.

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