that word

I find myself a little bit perturbed at the moment. Ever since I finished writing my last entry, I’ve had a sour taste in my mouth that has persisted so mercilessly that I truly can’t help but write about what’s caused it.

there’s no line to cross, so they just keep on going

Considering that the last few days of my life have consisted of very little outside of listening to the new U2 album and reading, I thought I should spend a bit of time writing. I’ve got a few things lined up to write about, but, I have to say, I am enjoying the new album so much that I really need to share some of my thoughts on it, lest I burst. I will say that I’ve been blown away by No Line on the Horizon even more than I thought I would be. There are some peculiarities and patterns that I am seeing in it, and that I expect will carry over into the next album, which I hear is to be released in early 2010.

Track by track, I was taken for a bit of a ride the first time I listened to No Line. It seemed to come more naturally than How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, and the order of the tracks creates a musical mountain range of sorts, a metaphor that seems apt, considering. Bono’s lyrics seem a little more dynamic and have a great deal of depth, even for him; Edge’s guitar is gritty and soulful in places, and it soars so high at times you’d think it would easily fly over Kilimanjaro. Adam and Larry remain solid as always, though they’re working in what seems to be a very lush rhythm section populated with strange and wonderful sound techniques. All of this together sets the stage for an incredibly well layered set of songs that form an album that, I can certainly say, I will still be discovering years from now.

an open letter

An open letter to the members of U2, on the occasion of the release of their new studio album, No Line on the Horizon.

Canadian readers for the win!

Canadian people make me happy.

Taken from The New Yorker’s Book Bench Blog:

Despite the recession, book sales are up in Canada for January and February.

Perhaps they are reading my mind? Do great minds really think alike? Either way — huzzah for book sales being up!

the day’s brainless activity

Every time I write an entry like the last one (and the one before that, for that matter), I feel the need to post something that requires a little less thought — for my own sake, as well as for the sake of anyone who may be keeping up on me and my little blog that could (or can, as it were).

Every day, I get an email in my ridiculously ancient Hotmail address that contains “My Inspirational Quote” of the day. Monday through Friday, I wake up to some sage (or not-so-sage) bit of wisdom from someone-or-other who evidently must know what they’re talking about, as they’ve been quoted in this most excellent subscription-based email service.

…whoa, that was a little more cynical sounding than I meant it to be!

Anyway, I particularly liked today’s quote, and so I thought I would share it.

“The grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for.”

-Allan K. Chalmers

While I have no idea who Allan K. Chalmers is, I don’t really care. I think what he said makes a whole lot of sense, and it’s particularly applicable to my life at this moment in time. Simple truths like this one make me think that perhaps that little bit of hope in my inbox every morning actually does do me a bit of good.

Reading in Recession

Every day I read several different blogs — one of them happens to be The Guardian’s Book Blog. Last week I read an entry that gives some frank advice to writers, in point form, basically letting them know they shouldn’t panic during the current recession. While I’m a writer and I think the advice is good, the entry got me thinking about the other side of that coin: the reading public. What will people who like to read do, during a recession, if there’s not enough good writing being published? This lead me to the conclusion that one of the best things that anyone can do during an economic downturn of any sort is read!

the Grammar Queen returns

The last few days of my life have been filled with conversation and debate over the usage of English grammar rules, language education, lol speak, convention, instant messaging etiquette, and any and all things related thereto. It all started over tacos in my kitchen, and now I find myself very much in need of an outlet to express my thoughts and opinions on how language and its use affects not only written communication but verbal; why I can’t quite understand that a graduate student wouldn’t use a question mark where he clearly knows it belongs; and why I abhor the thought that proper grammar seems to be viewed as necessarily restrictive.

the perfect wake-up

“So throw those curtains wide! One day like this a year would see me right!”

I encourage people to listen to this song while drinking their morning coffee, as it’s pretty much impossible not to have a good day after hearing this.

the three-song definition

As a bit of a reprieve after that last, rather serious entry, I have decided that I will finally write the three-song definition entry that I’d been endeavoring to write for quite some time.

There’s a bit of an explanation behind it, but the general idea is to define yourself by picking the three songs that you feel represent you the best, as a person. I had to think for about three seconds to pick my three. This either says that I am incredibly self-aware, or simply defined; I actually like to think it means both of those things. I don’t give much for being too complex a person. That said, I do tend to fall for incredibly complex men — what does that say about me? I’d answer that, but that’s a whole other blog entry.

Let’s keep to the task at hand, shall we?

Ladies and gents: Sara, in three songs!

tasty, and tasteful: free speech and brain food

“Comment is free, but facts are sacred.”

So said CP Scott, anyway.

I often find myself surfing the Guardian’s Comment is free section when I’ve nothing much else to do, these days. I’ve always been a bit curious about the particular quotation they’ve chosen to highlight as the banner of the section. Today, my curiosity got the better of me and I found out exactly who it was that said those words, and why. The essay from which this morsel of wisdom is taken was written eighty-eight years ago on the nature of newspapers, the Guardian in particular, on the celebration of its centenary. The entire essay can be found here, and is a stimulating read.

Having read that essay, and listened to a particularly re-enforcing two-minute snippet of opinion on free speech, I feel the need to add a little of my own insight, even if it’s only for my own sake.