Friday, August 29, 2008

Lantern Festival at Forest Hills Cemetery


At Forest Hills Cemetery, crowds rushed past gravestone markers, small groves named Buckthorn and Larkspur Path amidst the sounds of thudding drumbeats by Buddhist drums.

On July 17th, it was the 10th annual Lantern Festival, held each year at the cemetery to honor the dead by Buddhist tradition. A ceremony with chorus members singing in Japanese, Kilts men playing bagpipes, and hundreds of lit paper lanterns dotting the waters of Lake Hibiscus.

The ceremony is based on Buddhist tradition which is steeped in the symbolic nature of death and the Japanese Bon Festival, which believes that a window opens to the world of the ancestors on the lake allowing messages to be sent to the other side.

Residents from all over Massachusetts gathered in this Jamaica Plain cemetery, many mourning those who had recently died.

Wandering over toward the taiko drumming, a traditional Japanese art with ceremonial grunts, thuds and clicks came together for a primal melody, families assembled around the lake, some taking pictures of the festivities while others concentrating on decorating translucent paper with their friends. The music ceased and the growing audience applauded.

Over by the other side of the lake, a mob of people waited patiently despite the heavy humidity to get Chinese symbols painted on their lantern. Most chose the symbol for "Love".

As the sun sank into complete darkness, a thousand points of light floated on the lake symbolizing the soul's journey after death.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

No One Belongs Here More Than You


I want to stop and share something with you. I have never gotten emotional because of a movie. Except that one time. It was Big Fish.

Yes, that Tim Burton feature. Yes, it wasn't even that sad. I wouldn't even say it was a great movie. It just got me Right at the end-WHAM!-the most intense pull of the heart.

Miranda July's "No One Belongs Here more than You" is as close to that Big Fish moment in that it's really a happy lonely little book. The quirky storytelling stops to hit you with unexpected sadness. Call it fatal optimism. Call it an autumn sunset. I think what makes it so sad, is that it reminds us that its almost, but not quite, too late.

Below: An excerpt:
They are all waiting by a picnic table in a park this person has driven past many times before. There they are, it's everyone. There are balloons taped to the benches, and the girl this person used to stand next to at the bus stop is waving a streamer. Everyone is smiling. For a moment this person is almost creeped out by the scene, but it would be so like this person to become depressed on the happiest day ever, and so this person bucks up and joins the crowd.
Teachers of subjects that this person wasn't even good at are kissing this person and renouncing the very subjects they taught. Math teachers are saying that math was just a funny way of saying "I love you." But now they are simply saying it, I love you, and the chemistry and PE teachers are also saying it and this person can tell they really mean it. It's totally amazing. Certain jerks and idiots and assholes appear from time to time, and it is as if they have had plastic surgery, their faces are disfigured with love. The handsome assholes are plain and kind, and the ugly jerks are sweet, and they are folding this person's sweater and putting it somewhere where it won't get dirty. Best of all, every person this person has ever loved is there. Even the ones who got away. They hold this person's hand and tell this person how hard it was to pretend to get mad and drive off and never come back. This person almost can't believe it, it seemed so real, this person's heart was broken and has healed and now this person hardly knows what to think.
Full version here

Boston Summer 2008: A Retrospective


















Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Corrections on the LOLcat soundslide

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Wednesday, August 13, 2008

I can has Bible



Listen to my soundslide about the LOLcat Bible.

Hey, its my first soundslide.  As well, a work in progress.