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Lorna Mills and Sally McKay
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Sunday - Maureen Forrester (1930-2010)
Mahler's Urlicht conducted by Glenn Gould
Bach's Wir eilen mit Schwachen duet w/ Lois Marshall
Mahler's Kindertotenlieder w/The Boston Symphony Orchestra - part 1 of 3 (part 2, part 3)
found with the file names remus.jpg and spacestation.jpg
More is more.
found with the file names solphist1.jpg and solphist3.jpg
found with the file names homonclus1.jpg and homonclus2.jpg
What do you like better, Thought Bus or Cat Bus?
Thought Bus
excerpts from Mockingbird by Walter Tevis (1980)
"...nervous and excited now, [I] spoke aloud to the door. "Open," I said. And it opened! I got in and seated myself in the front seat, and set my tool box by me. Then I concentrated and thought: Take me out of the Mall and to the front of the obelisk. I pictured the place in front of the obelisk in my mind, just to make sure. And immediately the bus closed its door and began to roll.
[...]
My God! I thought. I think I know where this voice [in my head] is coming from. "But who are you?" I said.
"I am this bus. I am a Metallic Intelligence, with Kind Feelings."
"And you can read my mind?"
"Yes. But not very deeply. It disturbs you a little."
"Yes," I said aloud. My voice sounded strange.
"But it's not too bad. It's not as bad as being lonely." It was reading my mind. I tried to think to it, silently. Are you ever lonely?
"I don't mind if you talk aloud. No, I'm never lonely the way you humans are. I am always in touch, somewhere. We are a network and I am a part of it. We are not like you. Only a Make Nine is like you, alone. I have the mind of a Four, and am telepathic."
The voice in my head was soothing to me. "Would you make a light come on — a dim one?" I said. A bulb overhead began to glow softly. I looked down at my hands, at my dirty fingernails. Then I rolled up my sleeves. For some reason I was enjoying looking at my arms, at the fine, light hairs on them. "Are you as intelligent as [the cat] Biff?" I said.
"By all means," the voice said. "Biff is really stupid in most ways. It's just that she's very real — is very much a cat — and that makes her seem intelligent to you. I can read her whole mind at a glance, and there's very little there. But she feels good. She would not want to be anything other than a cat."
"And I don't feel good?"
"Most of the time you are sad and lonely. Or yearning."
"Yes," I said mournfully. "I am sad. I yearn a lot."
"And now you know it," the voice said.
Cat Bus
excerpt from My Neighbour Totoro by Hayao Miyazaki (1988)
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