Music for Airports

All possible collages exist here. All possible musics will never exist. I want to teach machines to read. It can't be that difficult, after all some machines I have known have a nicer personality and higher IQ than some people I have met. This page, today is for all possible ideas starting with the first thing which comes into my head. At ..... this moment, that is what do the pedals ona piano do? They extend the note, so extending this idea and those of Michael Brook ("Cobalt Blue"), you get the infinite piano. Of course the sampler makes this totally possible. In one ear, from one channel goes medieval lute music and in the other goes the sound of a fan. I am not ill but is this not the rebirth of Ambient music? Stephen Dedalus is not alive but his head is open to all of us. Stately and plump I think, descending a stair but this is not him. Did his father, his author scream "This is Dublin Calling"? or was that another Joyce? the reader of the statistics in nineteen-eighty-four; the chocolate ration has been altered but no-one knows whether it is up or down. It will bear no relation to the actual amount you receive anyway. Tokyo Rose - there was another one - a traitor; but she was Japanese wasn't she? How can you be a traitor in your own country supporting your own Government. Ah! but she was American. Where do we go when we are asleep? I am not aware of my own existence but I am still here and this paragraph is more like a dream than anything else I experience. Back to samplers. Infinite Collage - sound pictures and bad references - we are the KLF. Why bother with a link to the KLF? They will not exist in a few days. Maybe they never existed. Maybe they burnt themselves out of existence on an island somewhere along with their bank-account. Did that really happen? Madness. Maybe they burned play-money and sent the real stuff to something useful - like me. I should check my bank-account. What about that man who destroyed ALL of his possessions? Michael Landy's Breakdown. Michael Landy's Breakdown. Two links for two articles. A brave man. I cannot throw out a rail ticket without feeling anxious. The absence of something as art is probably not a new idea. I will destroy all my thoughts and by having an empty mind I will be the ultimate art work. I have done this bit before. Nothing here is real. What do you think? Oh for breakfast in that pub, a pint of porter and then crack with The Third Policeman. This is my copy - or at least a copy of my copy. The other version is not a copy of my copy and therefore is not the same book. I suspect some of the words are actually different but I am becoming one with my copy and it is very difficult to tell where the book ends and I start. Same with Ulysses I imagine. Old Ulysses turned up in the Divine Comdey I think but I am not supposed to know anything about that before I read it so I will stop there. I don't know anything about that. It just happens when I hit the keyboard. Automatic Typing you could call it. I was going to put a link, but they are all kooks who do this. Don't believe a word they say. It is all rubbish. Klee, Kandinski and Chagall. Now they knew how to do things automatically. Kandinski was a fellow. All perfect, every one. Not a brushstroke wrong. Beautiful. Andrew Wyeth might paint real things but he knows how to add a surreal note. What exactly is Christina doing? I know that she has a slight disability. Does that change the picture for you? Not for me. She must be so happy in that field but is something bad going on in the house or is she just being called in for dinner. Grits? You only have those for breakfast surely. Re-invent the past and we cannot say anything. Christina's World is our world after all. Too much Football. Too much of everything. I have to go home now because my head is full. I can never emtpy out everything. The Grid - Pruitt-Igoe - one bad building made by the same man who made two good buildings. He did not live to see the two good buildings destroyed. Maybe I have the wrong man, but the right buildings. Sentience is a privilege that only humans know. Find all the links on this page and you must be me. It is nice to see you again after all these years. "My God! It's full of stars". The ending of that film is like now. When in time are we and can we light the whole world? Re-invent a tense and define time-travel. We have no visitors from the future so they must be returning to other possible universes. Or maybe they are not returning at all because we never will be able to. Spin a mass the size of a black hole at nearly the speed of light and you might manage it but only with anti-matter. An·ni·hi·la·tion - thats the thing. (I couldn't be bothered to take out the dots and I couldn't spell it without looking it up). Create a lot of anti-matter and the Universe becomes your Lobster or maybe Turtle. Alll the way down they are - right to the big bang. That is the end of everything in one direction. Time has no direction you see but we do so the end for us is just one boundary. Maybe time has three dimensions and there is another end of time perpendicular to us. It is not here. There is plenty of time left in all directions.