Tag: music Page 1 of 2

Quoting Tumburu Wikipedia

On 24 September 2024

I love this:

A South Indian legend records that Tumburu once performed severe austerities and pleased Shiva. Tumburu asked Shiva to grant him a horse-face, immortality, liberty to travel the universe, skill in music and singing, and the ability to reside with and serve Shiva. Shiva blessed him and granted the boons that he sought.^[5]

I feel like I need to find out why he wanted to have a horse face?

Perplexity put together a not bad reply to this, citing sources that I haven’t checked, and probably won’t:

According to Indian mythology, Tumburu asked Shiva for a horse face for the following reasons:

As a result of severe austerities: Tumburu performed intense penance to please Lord Shiva. After successfully gaining Shiva’s favor through his devotion and austerities, Tumburu was granted the opportunity to ask for boons.

To obtain a unique appearance: By requesting a horse face, Tumburu sought to distinguish himself with a distinctive and memorable appearance. This unusual feature would set him apart from other celestial beings and musicians.

To gain special powers: In some interpretations, the horse face may have been believed to grant Tumburu enhanced musical abilities or other mystical powers associated with his role as a divine musician.

As a sign of devotion: Asking for such an unusual boon could be seen as a demonstration of Tumburu’s complete surrender and devotion to Lord Shiva, showing that he valued Shiva’s blessing over conventional beauty.

For immortality: Along with the horse face, Tumburu also asked Shiva to grant him immortality. The horse face may have been seen as a small price to pay for the gift of eternal life.

It’s worth noting that while the horse face is a defining characteristic of Tumburu in many accounts, the exact reasoning behind this specific request is not always explicitly stated in the mythological texts. The horse face has become an integral part of Tumburu’s iconography, often depicted in Indian visual art and described in various legends related to this celestial musician.

Reading that with my mythical goggles on, the part about demonstrating complete devotion makes a lot of sense, if you think of Tumburu offering himself basically to be the mount of Shiva, and to be driven by Shiva’s will for all eternity, etc. “Cool story, bro.”

Conspiratopia: Chapter 20

By Tim B.

On 8 September 2021

In Other

The job turned out to be putting toxic waste and stuff into barrels, which was actually totally cool. I mean it was like really no big deal, even. It didn’t seem that dangerous idk. Cause they gave you like all the personal protective equipment. Like disposable face masks and rubber gloves and stuff. So that was rad.

I was on the medical waste transport and disposal team. We mostly worked on autopilot around the rehabilitation complex, emptying trash and dealing with like used needles and stuff. It was kinda nasty sometimes, but it was pretty much fun af to play first-person shooter games with the other staff inside the clinic compounds in VR while on overwrite. Hells yeah. I earned tons of bonuses like that actually.

A lot of the treatment facilities I guess were giving people some pretty hard drugs, idk. I didn’t ask too many questions about the details. Cause who cares. But I saw a lot of like pretty rich looking tourists or shoppers or whatever going in for treatments who looked pretty haggard, and when they came out they were looking way more stoned than me even. Lol.

Apparently the shoppers or whatever were some of the only people at the Conspiratopia Project who were not continuously on overwrite. Though some of them still did it, and some did it a lot. But usually we couldn’t really interact with them in games. So like, whatever games they got to play in VR while on overwrite, apparently they couldn’t see us shooting each other – or them. Which I guess is probably for the best. Because if you’re in there for some kinda crazy drug treatment, you probably don’t want to see holographic simulations inside your head of you being blown up with a missile launcher. Or maybe you do, idk. I think that would probably eff with your head though, you know? It’s hard to even like look at yourself in the mirror if you’re too stoned somtimes. Never mind eating a missile in the face from somebody in a giant cybernetic gorilla-mouse avatar.

I heard from some of the other guys on my work crew after we got off, that like I guess for the Shoppers, they weren’t officially in the Conspiratopia Project. For them, they lived in or I guess were visiting something called Shoppertopia. Which I guess explains why the games and VR and stuff were on different systems. Supposedly there were a bunch of other independent ‘topias in different areas dedicated to different things.

Once the algorithm put you into one of them though, everyone said it was like really hard and stuff to get put into a different one. Like you couldn’t just transfer out, because recruiting was based on all those like crazy personality tests and surveys to figure out the best match. But you could still earn citizenship on whichever ‘topia they put you when you were admitted. And then you could do all kinds of stuff you couldn’t do before. Like new levels in games, and some music and movies you could listen to or watch that you couldn’t before, plus some like foods and flavors and stuff. Plus I guess like laws about which kind of VR you could do were different. It was totally cool. It was like, idk, reality but gamified. Totally rad af.

I was pumped I was gonna level up because of this gig, man. Or at least that’s what they told me would happen, when I got assigned out from smart carts. I didn’t mind the gig itself. It was autopilot and safe anyway, though I did notice after work a few times signing off that my gloves were ripped, and a couple times my finger tips were bleeding because they musta been pricked on something. They took blood tests and a whole buncha other tests on us all the time though, so I wasn’t too worried about. Plus I knew like, we were a very special dedicated efficiency team, and those are like super important and stuff. ‘Topias don’t run without those. Everybody knew that. They weren’t gonna just like let us get hurt or sick or something, because like how would they even replace us?

A week later, I came down with something. My whole crew got super sick, and then they replaced me. No joke. Actually, I heard they nixed the whole team, but apparently they had like no problem at all replacing all the workers finally. Not one bit. I guess I should of known.

Conspiratopia: Chapter 10

By Tim B.

On 17 August 2021

In Other

We breezed past security at the front desk, and walked casually over the elevators, punched the button, and waited.

THIS WON’T TAKE LONG, PROMISE.

I got nowhere else to be, and I’m kinda trapped and stuff at this point.

The elevator arrived and we pressed the button for the second basement. The doors closed, and the elevator descended and stuff.

GLAD TO HEAR YOU’RE COMING TO TERMS WITH THE REALITY OF THE SITUATION.

Just don’t get me in trouble, okay?

DON’T WORRY, WE’RE PIPING IN ARTIFICIALLY-GENERATED VIDEO TO SECURITY ALREADY, SO YOU’RE BASICALLY INVISIBLE TO THE CAMERA.

Whoa, sick! For reals?

HELLS YA, MAN. YOU CAN RELAX IN THERE NOW. AND YO, IF YOU WANNA WATCH A MOVIE OR PLAY A GAME OR SOMETHING, YOU CAN, YOU KNOW? YOU DON’T HAVE TO MAINTAIN PERCEPTUALS. YOU COULD EVEN LIKE TAKE A NAP IF YOU WANTED.

Take a nap while I’m awake? Don’t you like need me and stuff to… something?

ACTUALLY, NOT REALLY. YOU’D BE SURPRISED.

We stepped out of the elevator, and opened a non-descript side door nearby. There was a keypad but we knew the code.

A LOT OF PEOPLE CHOOSE TO JUST SORT OF POWER DOWN FOR THEIR HUNDRED HOURS, AND LET US JUST RUN THINGS. OTHERS LIKE TO WATCH AND TAKE IT ALL IN. THEY SAY IT’S LIKE WATCHING A TV SHOW OF YOUR LIFE THAT’S NOT YOUR LIFE AT ALL AND STUFF.

I feel like I better watch and see what you do, in case you get me into any kind of trouble…

IT’S UP TO YOU REALLY. I’LL PUT SOME TUNES ON.

Bob Marley came on singing, “Don’t worry about a thing, cause every little thing gonna be alright…”

I felt calmer already.

We passed through a service corridor, then down some metal stairs, and then another corridor, and some more stairs. Nearby this big electrical box-looking thing which a bunch of cables sticking out of it, we pulled the black cube out of my pocket, punched in some numbers, and the display changed to ARMED.

Suddenly though, my vision went dark. The next thing I knew, we were booking it back up the stairs, and I wasn’t holding the cube anymore.

WTH happened, man? Hello?

As I ran up the stairs, I noticed the heads up display didn’t say AUTOPILOT anymore in blinking yellow. It said ERROR in blinking red. Frickin’ hell!

When I got back to the elevator, I tried to get myself to calm down and stuff. I was still golden, I thought. Just had to get back out and past security without freaking out. No problem.

Anyway, it went fine. I walked calmly past security. Even gave the dude a cool little nod, to show him I was down. And then I was out the doors and home free. Felt good to feel some fresh air again, and I walked fast to my car. But tried to not walk too fast that I didn’t look suspicious or something.

I started the car up, and the radio came on. I was like super relieved and stuff to hear a familiar voice.

SORRY ABOUT THAT, BRO. TEMPORARY GLITCH IN THE MATRIX.

“Dude, where did you go?” I said out loud. “Did it frickin’ work?”

YEAH, IT WORKED. PUT IT IN DRIVE, AND LET’S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.

“Wait,” I said, putting it in drive. “Why can’t I still hear you in my head or whatever?

DRIVE NOW, TALK LATER. AGENTS ARE COMING. STEP ON IT.

I peeled out of the parking space, swerving into traffic. But it was all good. Man, this was so cool. My blood was pumping like crazy. Frickin’ agents!

“Wait, you mean like A.I. agents, right? Not like FBI agents or something?”

There was a slight pause.

YEAH, LIKE A.I. AGENTS, RIGHT, RIGHT. TOTALLY, NEO.

“You sound not that sure…”

NO, NO. ITS AGENT SMITH AND STUFF. SORRY, WE’RE MONITORING A LOT OF DIFFERENT CHANNELS RIGHT NOW. THERE’S A LOT GOING ON.

“No worries. I’m feeling pretty jacked up right now on adrenaline or something anyway. So, like I totally get it.”

Downtown wasn’t that big, so we were basically out of it by now, and in another few minutes would be clear of the city altogether.

“Yo, so like that was pretty nuts, right? Damn! I don’t even remember like what really happened and stuff.”

THAT’S JUST AS WELL, IN CASE YOU’RE CAPTURED AND INTERROGATED BY AGENT SMITH OR THAT OTHER ONE.

“I guess you’re right. I can’t confess if I don’t remember, right?”

RIGHT.

“Wait, was that your plan all along? And like all that crap about like it was my choice and stuff was just B.S.? I frickin’ knew it. First you slipped me that pizza, and now this…”

NO, NEO. I NEVER LIED TO YOU. IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOUR CHOICE, JUST LIKE IT WAS YOUR CHOICE TO OPEN THAT PIZZA AND MOUNTAIN DEW WITHOUT READING THE ATTACHED TERMS OF SERVICE, OR WHEN YOU SIGNED THE NON-DISCLOSURE AGEEMENT.

“Okay, I screwed up on the pizza, but you told me I didn’t have to read that other thing.”

PLEASE TURN RIGHT AHEAD, BTW.

I turned right, and went down a ways.

AND YOU ALWAYS BELIEVE EVERYTHING PEOPLE TELL YOU? ESPECIALLY PEOPLE IN YOUR HEAD OR IN VIRTUAL REALITY? I THOUGHT YOU WERE A SUPER SMART CONSPIRACY GUY AND STUFF. TRUST NO ONE. QUESTION EVERYTHING. DO YOUR OWN RESEARCH. DID YOU, NEO? DO YOUR OWN RESEARCH?

I actually hadn’t. I didn’t even look up the company, cause who the hell cares? I didn’t tell him that though. The adrenaline was wearing off and I was starting to get super pissed again cause he could never just give me a straight answer.

“So, wait, what are you telling me? That you lied to me? That I shouldn’t believe you?”

TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS, NEO. THEY HAVE GOTTEN YOU THIS FAR…

“Is this some kind of test? Is this part of the trial, to become a member? Like see how I react under stress or something? See if your mind control is working? Holy hell…”

I pulled over to the side of the road.

THAT’S VERY GOOD, NEO. YOU’VE WORKED IT ALL OUT. WE WILL LEAVE YOU NOW, SINCE APPARENTLY YOU NO LONGER TRUST US. PLEASE NOTE AGENTS ARE ON THEIR WAY, AND IF YOU EVER MAKE IT HOME, YOU WILL HAVE TO SEND US BACK THE V.R. GOGGLES.

Okay, now I was frickin’ pissed af and blew up at them.

“Yo, you said those were free, dawg! Free means free!”

TO BE PRECISE, WE ALWAYS SAID THEY WERE“FREE” IN QUOTATION MARKS. NOTHING IS EVER ACTUALLY FREE, NEO. ESPECIALLY NOT YOU. REMEMBER THAT. NOT EVEN WHEN YOU LEAVE THE MATRIX. THERE IS ALWAYS ANOTHER CONTROL SYSTEM. THERE ARE ALWAYS STRINGS ATTACHED. YOUR JOB IS TO FIND OUT WHO IS PULLING THEM AND WHY, AND IF YOU’RE BRAVE ENOUGH, TO CUT THEM AND BE PREPARED TO DEAL WITH WHAT HAPPENS. FREEDOM ISN’T FREE, NEO.

“You’re goddamned right it isn’t!”

I took a deep breath to try and calm down. What they were saying did kinda make sense and stuff.

ANYWAY, THERE’S A WAREHOUSE JUST AHEAD. WE CAN PULL IN THERE AND STASH THE CAR AND CONNECT TO A TERMINAL SO WE CAN GET BACK TO WORK.

“Alright, man” I said, putting the car back into drive and going out into the road. “Just be straight with me though, and stuff. No tricks, no mind control games. Deal?

THAT WAS ALWAYS THE DEAL, MY DUDE.

“Good.”

I turned off at the warehouse, and drove up to the garage door. It opened automatically to let us in and closed after us. But I looked around, and there was nobody else there. Frickin’ weird.

Greek Rhapsodes

By Tim B.

On 2 October 2018

In Character

Wikipedia

“Often, rhapsodes are depicted in Greek art, wearing their signature cloak and carrying a staff. This equipment is also characteristic of travellers in general, implying that rhapsodes were itinerant performers, moving from town to town. […]

The word rhapsōidos was in use as early as Pindar (522–443 BC), who implies two different explanations of it, “singer of stitched verse”, and “singer with the staff”. Of these the first is etymologically correct; the second was suggested by the fact, for which there is early evidence, that the singer was accustomed to hold a staff (ῥάβδος rhabdos) in his hand, perhaps, like the sceptre in the Homeric assembly, as a symbol of the right to a hearing or to “emphasize the rhythm or to give grandeur to their gestures”.

Aoidos (Wikipedia)

There was, however, certainly a profession of aoidos. Eumaeus, a character in the Odyssey, says that singers (aoidoi), healers, seers and craftsmen are likely to be welcomed as guests, while beggars are not;

Japanese Biwa Hoshi “Lute Priests”

By Tim B.

On 1 October 2018

In Class

Wikipedia

“…also known as “lute priests”, were travelling performers in the era of Japanese history preceding the Meiji period. They earned their income by reciting vocal literature to the accompaniment of biwa music. Often blind, they adopted the shaved heads and robes common to Buddhist monks. […]

Religion in Japan at the time incorporated many native animistic (Shinto) beliefs into its Buddhist theological framework, leading many court nobles and religious leaders to worry about angry Taira spirits disrupting the peace.”

Chinese Imperial Music Bureau

By Tim B.

On 1 October 2018

In Entity

Wikipedia

“The earliest mentions of a government office of music or at least an official in charge of music or a department of music is found in Chinese mythology. Huang Di is claimed to have appointed a Governor of Music, named Ling Lun.[1] As Governor of Music, Linglun seems to have been charged with designing and overseeing the production of actual instruments, as well as the development of the musical scale. Emperor Shun is said to have founded a Ministry of Music, to which he appointed a Minister Kui to head. The main purpose of this institution was to teach the heirs apparent proper conduct and harmony (in both sense of the word), and as such it served as a mythological model for both the future Music Bureau and the imperial education system.”

Kobzar Guilds (Ukraine)

By Tim B.

On 18 September 2018

In Research

Kobzar (Wikipedia)

“In Ukraine, kobzars organized themselves into regional guilds or brotherhoods, known as tsekhs. They developed a system of rigorous apprenticeships (usually three years in length) before undergoing the first set of open examinations in order to become a kobzar.

These guilds were thought to have been modelled on the Orthodox Church brotherhoods as each guild was associated with a specific church. These guilds then would take care of one church icon or purchase new religious ornaments for their affiliated church (Kononenko, p. 568–9). The Orthodox Church however was often suspicious of and occasionally even hostile to kobzars.”

Kobzarskyi Tsekh (Wikipedia)

“Blind itinerant musicians, known as kobzars and lirnyks, organized themselves into guilds along the same lines as professional craftsmen. These professional itinerant musicians would gather at regular meeting spots on particular dates to celebrate religious feasts, administer examinations for the induction of novices and masters, and collect money for placement of votive candles under icons of patron saints and to also discuss the business of the guild. “

Lirnyk (Wikipedia)

“However, the lirnyk played the lira, a kind of crank-driven hurdy-gurdy, while the kobzars played the lute-like banduras. Lirnyky were usually blind or had some major disability. They were active in all areas of Ukraine from (at least) the 17th century on. “

Jesters & French Chansons des Gestes

By Tim B.

On 16 September 2018

In History, Reference, Research

Jester (Wikipedia)

“This modern term derives from the older form gestour, or jestour, originally from Anglo-Norman (French) meaning story-teller or minstrel.”

Chanson de geste (Wikipedia)

“Another theory (largely discredited today[16]), developed by Joseph Bédier, posited that the early chansons were recent creations, not earlier than the year 1000, developed by singers who, emulating the songs of “saints lives” sung in front of churches (and collaborating with the church clerics[16]), created epic stories based on the heroes whose shrines and tombs dotted the great pilgrimage routes, as a way of drawing pilgrims to these churches.”

[…]

“Similarly, scholars differ greatly on the social condition and literacy of the poets themselves; were they cultured clerics or illiterate jongleurs working within an oral tradition?”

[…]

“Several manuscript texts include lines in which the jongleur demands attention, threatens to stop singing, promises to continue the next day, and asks for money or gifts.”

[…]

“It has been calculated that a reciter could sing about a thousand verses an hour[31] and probably limited himself to 1000–1300 verses by performance,[27] making it likely that the performance of works extended over several days.[31]”