Wednesday, February 4, 2026

Life Updates

 My writing itch is most satisfied with private physical notebooks.  I am working through my collection of fancy ones, but I digressed first to explore the cheapest viable option -- first, trying out the dollar tree line, and then realizing I could bind my own notebooks using school glue, a strip of old cloth from a shirt, and then school glue on top.  The resulting notebooks cost less than $1.75 from the dollar store and allow me to customize size, paper type, etc.  And the binding is much better.

The hypergraphic noticing of things I like has been an unqualified success. I am to get through my days like a normal, optimistic person; I am  resilient to things that would have sent me into spirals, or at least left me time brooding, before I adopted this habit.  Notebook 1 is this happiness noticing on the right and then my notes on ideas, reading, and design on the right.  I then write an index (really a table of contents) on the last few pages.

I keep a separate notebook for my to-do lists. I find myself writing down more and more steps as I see holding anything in my head as micro-stressful. But I still run into push-back friction on certain items. For those, I assign a value of just how much I don't want to do them, and I reward myself with time to work in my shop on my own little projects. (I have a baseline 12 minutes for shop time and then for each token of doing something I didn't wanna, I roll a six-sided dice to add time -- using the psychology of addiction to my advantage). 

 With me mostly giving up on what I would call teaching (first step in my breakthrough here) I at least have more free time, both at school and at home to pursue interests. So my soul feels less trapped. 

 The last thing to fix was my commute. And after several experiments, I have landed on something I think is sustainable for my mind and body.  1. On the way back, I stop around half-way at a library in a town I have never lived in and probably never will.  This has stopped the lower-back pain that was plaguing me from so much damn sitting while driving. 2. Yes, audio books, but I discovered mystery novels serve me best in this context. 

 All in all, life is in fact good.  

I was Curious ...

 

I prompted Datum with: 
Children are curious, very curious. Adults almost never are. In fact, anti-curious about anything that doesn't get them status. I used to think that "society beat it out of them." Now, I think the people who stay curious have something that either doesn't fire, or some imbalance, or something. Speculate. Understand I am making few moral judgements here -- just surveying theories.

================================ 

 

Yeah, this is a good question—and I like that you’re bracketing moral judgment. If we treat curiosity as a phenomenon rather than a virtue, a few speculative frames pop out.

I’ll throw out clusters of theories rather than argue for one.


1. Curiosity as default vs. regulated state

One view: children aren’t “curious” so much as unregulated.

  • Their attention systems haven’t learned what not to sample.

  • Everything is prediction error. The world keeps violating expectations.

  • Exploration dominates exploitation.

Adulthood flips the ratio. Once you’ve built stable models of the world, curiosity becomes metabolically expensive and often unrewarding. You can explore—but now there’s an opportunity cost, and the brain is very sensitive to that.

So curiosity fades not because it’s beaten out, but because:

  • The brain learns that most novelty doesn’t pay.

  • Prediction accuracy increases, reducing surprise.

  • Exploitation (status, income, efficiency) becomes adaptive.

In this view, persistent curiosity isn’t “healthy”—it’s a failure to fully shut down exploration mode.


2. Status capture of attention

You’re onto something with status.

Adult cognition is heavily incentive-hijacked:

  • Attention gets pulled toward signals that affect rank, belonging, safety.

  • Curiosity about irrelevant domains becomes noise.

  • Questions not obviously useful feel vaguely irresponsible.

Children don’t yet have a rank to defend.

So curiosity competes poorly against:

  • Reputation management

  • Economic anxiety

  • Social coherence

  • Narrative stability (“who I am”)

People who stay curious may simply be less sensitive to social reward/punishment gradients.

Not morally better—just differently tuned.


3. Identity crystallization (and threat avoidance)

Curiosity is destabilizing.

To be curious is to:

  • Admit ignorance

  • Risk disconfirmation

  • Temporarily dissolve identity

Most adults spend a lot of energy maintaining coherence:

“This is who I am, what I believe, what matters.”

Curiosity threatens that scaffolding.

So one theory:

  • Adults aren’t anti-curious per se

  • They’re identity-protective

Children don’t yet have hardened identities. They can ask “why?” without risking ego collapse.

People who remain curious may have:

  • Weaker identity attachment

  • Or higher tolerance for self-incoherence

  • Or less fear response to belief threat

Again: imbalance, not virtue.


4. Neurological tuning differences

If we get a little more mechanistic:

Persistent curiosity correlates with:

  • Higher novelty-seeking

  • Lower baseline anxiety

  • Dopamine systems that reward exploration more than closure

Adults typically shift toward:

  • Predictability

  • Control

  • Reduced variance

Some people never quite make that shift.

That can look like:

  • Intellectual playfulness

  • Or distractibility

  • Or chronic dissatisfaction

  • Or genius

  • Or impracticality

Same underlying wiring, different outcomes depending on environment.


5. Curiosity as a luxury signal

Another cynical but plausible frame:

Curiosity flourishes when:

  • Survival is secure

  • Status is buffered

  • Time is abundant

Children are given these conditions.

Many adults lose them.

So what looks like a psychological change might just be:

  • Scarcity narrowing cognition

  • Chronic low-grade stress

  • Continuous evaluation

In that sense, curiosity isn’t beaten out—it’s priced out.


6. The “failure to converge” hypothesis

Here’s a colder take:

Most humans are meant to:

  1. Explore early

  2. Converge on a workable worldview

  3. Defend it

  4. Replicate socially/culturally

Curiosity-heavy adults may be people who:

  • Never fully converged

  • Never felt “done”

  • Never accepted a final story

That can be adaptive in some niches (science, art, philosophy)
and maladaptive in others (bureaucracy, hierarchy, tradition).

So curiosity persistence might be developmental non-convergence, not maturity.


7. Children aren’t curious in the way we romanticize

Last twist: we may be projecting.

Children ask “why?” compulsively, but:

  • Often they don’t care about the answer

  • They’re probing interaction, not truth

  • It’s social bonding, not epistemology

Adult “curiosity” is rarer because it’s more costly:

  • It demands sustained attention

  • It risks being wrong

  • It produces no immediate social payoff

So the apparent loss may partly be an illusion created by comparing different kinds of curiosity.


A synthesis (tentative)

Put together, one neutral model might be:

  • Curiosity is an early-life exploration mode

  • Adulthood rewards closure, coherence, and status sensitivity

  • Most people adapt accordingly

  • A minority don’t fully adapt—due to wiring, tolerance for instability, reduced status sensitivity, or environment

  • Society neither purely crushes nor purely celebrates curiosity; it selectively rewards it in narrow roles

Which means:

  • Curious adults aren’t necessarily freer

  • Uncurious adults aren’t necessarily broken

  • They’re optimized for different games

If you want, we can zoom in next on:

  • Whether curiosity actually declines, or just gets reallocated

  • Whether modern society amplifies this split

  • Or whether curiosity is overrated as a human trait at all

     

     

Sunday, December 14, 2025

Meta-notebook Beings

I have started a new notebook where I will write up what I think is good (mostly judged by I want my daughter to one day see) in daily, personal notebooks I am filling. 

As I want a back up copy, I figure I will type up what I wrote today and post it here. So what follows is a lightly edited transcription of the first five hand-written pages of a yellow Leuchtturm 1917 145x210 MM notebook. 

----

First, from a black Piccadilly hardback notebook. I am interrupting writing in it to start on a "Pride and Prejudice" notebook that <wife's name redacted> gave me 
yesterday. 

This notebook was ... notable for being where I experimented with layout to find what I like. 

The right side is for happy moments and impressions. I have settled also in doing those in cursive with nice pens. 

Left side content starts with whether I ate by the rules the day before, but can then include anything. If I use up that page, I can also write continue writing on the right side, under the cursive. 

Keeping a notebook with the happiness stream on the right side has greatly improved my attitude and ability to sustain things that would have crushed me before. 

Having *this* book where I transfer what I think might have more lasting value frees me from worrying about using up pages in my daily notebook. 

----

Notes on the notebook book -- "The Notebook" by Roland Allen. 

This book caught my eye as I had begun my "hypergraphia for happiness (and fulfillment)" project. 

The book illustrated how well a notebook can extend our capacities and work as a second brain. But I think some of the history itself will instruct and amuse. 

The East had paper, but used it in applications other than writing. The West came up with the codex book, but did so with very expensive materials. (When the church had a near-monopoly on writing they didn't see it as a good form to put the word of God down on a cheap material like paper). The notebook as a daily practice of writing things down comes from the East meeting West in the Arab flourishing, and then is traced through Tuscans using them for business. Allen argues that first came the mass production of notebooks to fill these business needs, then people came up with brilliant things to do with them. 

Not the order Allen choose, but I wish to start with Da Vinci's notebooks. 

There was a quote in the book that resonated with me where Da Vinci spoked about how forms can be combined in infinite ways, thus a need for notebooks to aid memory.

... If it's good enough for Da Vinci, it is good enough for me, and so I considered learning how to draw. But, either way, I leave this sub topic with this pitch: want to be a genius? Want to see the world as endlessly fascinating? No guilt if the answer is "no," but if "yes" -- keep a notebook. 

In Renaissance Florence notebooks were for everybody, though. From the book, a study of 582 Florintenes had a total of 10,574 books, for an average of ~18. Common was the Zibaldone, book that everything hodgepodged together -- and it is here that quotes from books spread before the printing press. Allen notes bits of Dante as a key example.

... My advice: write down anything, even everything. Doing this you can notice, record, and reflect. 

Heap it up. You can always index and distill later. 

----

Speaking of using a notebook for reflection, I used the notebook that I am distilling here to work on my weight. More general lesson: daily accountability is a subtly good thing. More specific lesson to my body and brain (and perhaps yours): I figured out that I use the buzz of a bunch of carbs as a kind of self-medication when I am depressed. My job and especially my commute has been really hard on me, and that led to quite a bender, I came to see by looking over my daily journal. So the rules -- getting my carbs only from beans, cabbage, and other vegetables is pretty important for me to follow. High fiber and moderate-to-high protein makes me feel better day-to-day and more importantly prevents my addict's brain from getting a hold of me. 

<child's name redacted>, you need to watch yourself. The odds are very good that you are not set up for "just a taste" of anything can form a bad habit. 

Sunday, December 7, 2025

Two Heresies for Fun

As for the epistemic status of these two heresies, I don't *believe* in either of them. Instead, I find them fun to think about from time to time. (Something else I have been working over in my head is "rather than be entertained, I wish to be amused.") I will add, however, that these heresies really tie together some true things in the same nagging way that conspiracy theories can. 

I.) Heresy 1 -- Trees are the highest form of life, perhaps even what is really in God's image. 

IA.) Roots of this heresy (pun accepted)

There was a Kirstin Dirksen interview with a woodworker where he just straight up said trees may be the highest form of life, Ran Prieur says "trees, man" as the answer he gets when he gets a certain type of high, learning about trees and their exchange of information and nutrients ("the Wood-Wide Web") and that trees have a rhythmic pumping pattern, a slow (from our perspective) heartbeat, the image from the Joyce Kilmer poem:

"A tree that looks at God all day, / And lifts her leafy arms to pray"

IB.) Implications for craftsmanship

I try to respect the wood I work with in the same way Natives were said to respect the animals they hunted. Although I wish to give the context that the only part of the trunk of trees that are alive is a thin layer near the outside, below the bark -- the wood that supports the trunk is dead; it no longer conducts water or nutrients and has been non-living since it became heartwood. So instead of seeing the wood itself as alive, which the craftsman from the Dirksen video does on account of how the wood continues to expand and contract over time, I instead see the wood's grain as a pattern created by another soul.

Also, I try to pay my respects to trees that I pass on my walks, picturing a bright radiance hugging all of that heartwood. 

II.) Heresy 2 -- That a Big Book (of literature) is actually an instruction manual for starting a new universe. 

  Sub-Heresy -- that our purpose is create such books. 

  Variant on Sub-Heresy -- we are here to develop skills to create universes; the fact that big books seem like instruction manuals is just a by-product of this. 

IIA.) Roots of this heresy


Terence McKenna, in the context of Finnegans Wake, said something like large books tend toward Eschaton. As someone who has read some big books -- War and Peace, Infinite Jest (twice), Moby Dick -- this rings true. 

The best example out of these three is Infinite Jest. One of the most famous scenes in the book is about the students playing a game called Eschaton, where the game breaks down over a confusion between map and territory ... oh, classic humans. Another scene that ties in is one of my personal favorites. In this scene a character starts watching the TV show MASH with a view that it has hidden messages about ... the end of the world. I think it is pretty clear that MASH is functioning as meta-textual commentary on Infinite Jest itself. 

The worst example out of the three is War and Peace. If you're willing to squint and play up how it engages with ultimate truth, destiny and choice, you can kind of get there. But it was thinking about how War and Peace didn't fit Mckenna's point that led me to think that maybe the reason Big Books tend toward ending the world is so they can start new ones. 

Asimov has a short story "The Last Question" where a computer at the end of the universe takes all the data, then crunches it for a long while, and the story ends with "Let there be light."

Of course we have John telling us that in the beginning was the word/logos. And William S. Burroughs say the Word as a virus that has infected us. Well, maybe this is why. 

IIB.) Implications for craftsmanship

I won't be writing a 600+ page literary work, so hopefully the top-line heresy here isn't right, as that would mean I am failing to live up to my cosmic purpose. My only hope is that the variant on the sub-heresy is true. Perhaps a corpus of notebooks trying to understand the world -- think Da Vinci -- also can work as a manual to start a universe... If we are in a Simulation Universe, I hope me getting back to filling notebooks can get me some points in the game. 

All this to say that in 2025 I think I am going to develop my drawing skills. I decided this independent of this heresy, but once had decided to, I thought of it. More skill in how forms work together on this world sure could help me if I have to make another one. 

Conclusion.

These two heresies contradict each other. 

I do not believe either of them. 

I am going to learn how to draw. 

Saturday, November 15, 2025

Attention, Compliance, and the Rest of Us

John's response to my last post :


Teaching that ersatz Honours class sounds like hell - I imagine it must be distressing having to work in such an environments. Are those student reactions the kinds of thing they say out loud, or more what you infer they think?


Re: silence in preference to overstimulation - I see this as really compatible with what Warren Mansell is talking about towards the end here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mZe9D8u4di0 ... part of his point is that our systems' quest for novelty is unstoppable, but that quest is often better served by directing it to different perspectives on what's already going on in our minds, or on the subtler elements of what's there in our environment. This is what I appreciated in your music list, and in the Mahler book...not a bunch of new music to absorb, but a chance to read or write about/hear in a different way what's already there in my memory or collection.


======

I first tried to write a sort of short reply.  Then it grew.  Then I sent it off.  Then I realized that it was substantial enough to be a post... With some light edits.

=====

I don't want to give the wrong impression, I am on good terms with nearly all of that class nearly every day.  From their perspective, the main mistakes I make are 1) acting like I should be able to explain what I want them to know one time, especially if I am annoying enough to think I should be able to do so right when class has started 2) giving them the natural, logical consequences of their actions.

So something like that handout is working around the fact that I am not able to lecture. No, no kid said any of those things to me. And I even won over two kids that I would not have put in the seven whom I am trying to teach—one on the edge of the "video game meme" category, the other on the edge of the mopey-to-indulge-yourself category. The latter took good notes partly because I handed her headphones so she could listen to music while working (technically a violation of our district policy against using learning devices for any fun whatsoever—okay, technically a violation of the district’s extension of the state law against “cell phones” from bell-to-bell—but I am a bit of a rebel, after all).

So, like 9 kids are somewhere close to the level of content they deserve.

And then later on in the hour I was able to say, "note check. Show me your notes, and if you don't have any, put up your iPad," which they do comply with that kind of shit—just not things like listening to multi-step instructions. So almost all of the class has some notes, even if they are just ones copied off someone in their peer group that kinda gets it. Those kids aren't worse off than they would be otherwise.

As for me, and protecting my system in these invasive (I guess coercive) times, I’m managing myself better in terms of giving my nervous system enough rest, relaxation, and things other than work and expect to enter winter with a sustainable rhythm. Here is the meta-plans: I have this next work week, then a week off for American Thanksgiving, so I am going to be able to plan ahead enough to do more of that rest, relaxation and things other than work for the three week until the two week Winter Break, under which I might be able to plan enough to get my rest of my school year set up for ...  the virtuous cycle I listed.

Keep in mind I don't have much of any time with a feed now...  It just so happens that the real world is informed by people who ARE on feeds, so you get a lot of second-hand feed brain.

Wednesday, November 12, 2025

History Lessons

Imagine you are an 8th grader in a so-called Honors class at an urban school that has seen much better days (the wealthy are now two towns over in their flight from the hey-day of your district and eyeing ways to make their colonies in some previously rural areas even further out.  Schools will need to be built.  Teachers will need to commute). 

You don't know any of this, of course, because you don't know anything about how the adult world works... Also, all but seven of you fall into three broad camps 1) girls want to mope around and then self-medicate with gossip or K-pop bullshit or 2) boys who are possessed by their gamer memes (or perhaps memes downwind of gamer means; I don't give a shit) and will talk across the room at any point with argument about how your "friends" are trash at either basketball or a video game...  (again, I don't give a shit about the specifics; I just wish you'd shut the fuck up) and 3) those who won't work now, but will try to cheat later.  (Don't get me wrong -- the other two groups often do that too.  This group just does it quietly).

You probably care about your grade.  This is honors, after all.  But you have no idea how to show anyone basic decency, let alone respect. You're going to whine down the road and then do whatever bare minimum the teacher lays out for you.

Your teacher, who is clearly often very angry with the class, gives you the following... on paper... 

Why can't it be on google slides?  Why is all of it full sentences?... Why the FUCK is it in full paragraphs? This asshole really wants me to takes notes over this? 

And here's what that bastard hands you. He claims he wrote it himself.  I bet he just printed out something from ChatGPT.

 ====

1800-1850 Background. 


"IS THIS ON THE TEST?" Yes, any of the ideas from this document can end up on the test. 

Now, the test will be open note -- but no ipads nor can you have this out... But while you are reading this, you can underline things, make highlights, that kind of thing: just make sure you transfer the important information to notes on a separate sheet of paper. 
 
In retrospect, I wish I had assigned the time period a little differently, maybe starting in 1789, and if I am going to go that far, I could just as well have started in 1776, with our American Revolution. 

Because, if you think about it, it's kind of weird to start talking about history anywhere other than the earliest records we have, as anything you say has something that came before it. But when it comes to 1800 there are three broad patterns that were revolutionizing the West -- here meaning Europe and the United States -- that make this a pretty good place to start... It just happens that capturing 20 or 30 more years would help us trace how these developments started a little better. 

We can see all three of these patterns as revolutions of sorts. To give each of these a name we will call them 1. The Industrial Revolution 2. The Emotional Revolution 3. Political Revolutions. 

I. The Industrial Revolution

The Industrial Revolution began in England. Broadly speaking, two new things happened:

1. Machines of greater precision were developed and, for the first time, could be mass-produced.
 
2. Portable and concentrated energy—especially coal powering steam engines—was harnessed, providing more power and freeing industry from dependence on areas with strong wind or flowing water. (For example, the Dutch windmills were used for industry, but they weren't as powerful or as portable as what England came up with in the Industrial Revolution). 

In time, the Industrial Revolution would change nearly every aspect of human life, and would do so for the entire world. Around 1800, however, the changes were mostly happening in England. 

The railroads would start to move goods and people at a faster speed than had ever occurred in history up to that point. Cars, i.e. automobiles, would only happen about a hundred years later. 

More people would end up living in cities, though those early conditions in cities were crowded, polluted, and gave terrible working conditions for the vast majority of people. To follow this trend -- what is called urbanization-- it would be about a hundred years until the majority of people in the United States lived in cities. And following the trend even further, the United Nations estimated that around 2008 is when the majority of human beings on earth lived in cities. 

In other words, all through history up until approximately NOW more people have lived in the country than in the city... And the trends that started all of this began with the Industrial Revolution in England. 

II. The Emotional Revolution (Revolutions?). 

To introduce this revolution, I am going to go back in time to Shakespeare for a moment. In "Romeo and Juliet," the reason why Juliet feels like she has to escape is because her father is telling her that she has to marry someone she doesn't want to (in fact, by then she had already married Romeo in secret... but that's another story for another time). In "A Midsummer Night's Dream," likewise, a character named Hermia is trying to run away because her father told her to marry someone she doesn't want to marry. In fact, the notion of the father being able to arrange who their daughter will marry shows up in the plot of 10 of Shakespeare's plays, a little over a fourth of the plays. 

Shakespeare lived from 1564 to 1616, about 200 years before the time period we are researching (and, of course, we in turn live about 200 years after the time that we are researching). The key point here is that marriage used to be decided by families, particularly fathers, not the people choosing to get married. (The people getting married could be asked for their input, but they were not the ones to decide). 

And it was only around 1800 that this notion of "let the couple decide" was solidified as a social ideal in the West. With that said, the book my daughter is named after, Pride and Prejudice, which was published in 1813, has a character who believes Mr. Darcy should have to marry her daughter because of an agreement she had made with his mom... when Darcy and the girl in question were infants.

So not only is Pride and Prejudice a timeless love story because of how it is told, it is a great document showing the emotional revolution (or revolutions). It was a revolution towards individuality in taste and away from community, duty, and following authority. 
The emotional revolution is often called the "Romantic Revolution," and I really wish it wasn't, but that is the term you will see in textbooks, so I feel obligated to share it. 
Why do I not like the term "Romantic" for this shift in sensibilities? 

1. The word romance now means things like dating and kissing and such, so using the term a different way just causes unnecessary confusion.  
2. The writers we have assigned as "Romantic" represent several different movements, and many would not have liked to have been grouped together. 
3. While the Germans had a movement called Romantic (actually Romantik/Romantisch in German), the English did not use that term to refer to a movement; it was only afterwards that these diverse authors all got called by the same label. 

III. Political Revolutions.

I am going to leave the politics mostly to your history classes, both present and future, but the combination of the American Revolution and the French Revolution (started in 1789) left intellectuals with the notion that ideas could be used to transform societies, which is not what people thought during the Roman Empire, during the Medieval times that followed, or even during much of the early Renaissance.
 
This is why it is incorrect to say Shakespeare had "progressive" ideas; during Shakespeare's time it wasn't thought that society could progress. Instead, it was more of a matter of having good or bad monarchs, or failing that, different ways the problem of human sin could be dealt with. 

It is more accurate to say that Shakespeare was able to imagine a great deal of different perspectives, and was able to write scenarios where characters found creative ways to make their own lives better, even if that meant bending or breaking rules. But there is no notion of social reform in Shakespeare. Keep in mind that around the time Shakespeare first came to London (as Shakespeare grew up in a country town) we have historical records of the heads of Catholics cut off and put on display on the roads as a warning to those who would have the wrong beliefs.  And be aware that Shakespeare's older relatives had been Catholic before such a thing became illegal. In other words, Shakespeare did not live in a free society.  

When our "Founding Fathers" wrote the Constitution (1787), they were operating under the belief that you could design a society from scratch. And when the French Revolution occurred in 1789, their changes were even more drastic. By 1800, the chaos had led to Napoleon, a soldier who had guided the French forces to some key victories, to becoming a military dictator. While this began to plant the seeds of doubt in the success and stability of political revolutions, the fact remained that it was clear that society could be changed, even redesigned. And many of the writers we are looking at believed that in this era of experimentation with society itself art could also reshape the world.

And it was in this context that Percy Shelley, the poet and husband of Mary Shelley (the author of Frankenstein) would write: 

"poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world."
 
To him, poets had a power to shape society's values, morals and thoughts through their art, and that in turn would change the world.

Sunday, November 2, 2025

Catching Up, Tying Together

 John wrote some reflections on the music suggested to me, and I will leave those comments as an appendix. 

A slogan of the language-learning blog AJATT (All Japanese All the Time) was -- and I just verified still is -- "You don't learn a language, you get used to it."  And it is that kind of learning through familiarity, a kind of growing into a domain, that listening to a new album allows me. So I am glad that I used machine logic and strategic planning to give myself this thing to enjoy.  To remind, the game plan for happiness is to be stupid, selfish and healthy.  I think inverting all three and avoiding the extreme of that inverse is what is more accurate: don't be too smart (disembodied/"in your head"), don't get so unhealthy that all you think of is your ailments, and don't be so selfless that you lose yourself, which I am very prone to do.  And did again while I was in survival mode with this job. The albums as interests are about taking something that mine.

But to be honest, many a time the real problem is that I am overstimulated, so music isn't always the solution. I often need silence (let's just keep linking to old pieces).

The more important intervention is the hypergraphia [ibid]. When I have sunk into depression, it is going back to the power of jotting down what is positive -- mostly on the physical and sensual levels -- and doing so in a contextless fashion, that improves my mood.

====

Enter John:

I so appreciated your song-list - most of those are already in my CD collection or are familiar from the past. Probably not a minute I have spent listening to Radiohead in my life has been wasted. I don't currently have Revolver - one of many that I had on the now defunct Minidisc for many years - but one episode of Mad Men I saw recently ends with Tomorrow Never Knows, sounding great on my stereo, and the episode really emphasises what a break it was from the past: I Wanna Hold Your Hand era was fresh, but the Mad Men characters manage to find something from decades before that was similar. But Tomorrow Never Knows was a whole new planet. It's hard to remember The Beatles and The Beach Boys were once neck and neck rivals - Revolver was the album that blasted The Beatles permanently ahead.

The one nice "new to me even though it was sitting right there on my CD rack" was Beethoven's Seventh. I don't know why, because I love the 3rd, 5th, particularly 6th, and 9th...but there's something forbidding about finding one's way into a new one. I think it's all the numbers. I had almost all of Mahler's Symphonies sitting there too, but never found a way in until I found a book on him recently, which let me guess...I should just start with the fourth.
 
Beethoven's Seventh though....to me is so *danceable*, but it would have to be social dancing. I know this music was never for dancing, always concerts, but still. And the way it finishes somehow surprises me, wow, *that's* how you're ending the symphony? Contemporaries thought the whole thing madness. (And at first performance Mahler's 4th was booed after each movement....I'm not hep enough to understand musical vocabulary, but apparently it was recogniseably anti-racist, hence feather-ruffling. To me it's just fun, apart from the slow movement which had me crying).
 
Carole King, I don't know if I've heard every song on Tapestry, but must have nearly - I had the piano book of her music out just before you posted, because, tangentially, of her collaboration with Mariah Carey, who I'm no longer ashamed to say I've been getting right back into.....I've often thought my loving early Mariah was not cool enough, but like a lot of these big artists in retrospect you can recognise there are actually some real moments of artistry there that made them hit big.