Sunday Serendipity

By Jace, a Trail Mix Contributor

Ah Bach! To be more exact, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach. A lovely symphony for an equally lovely Sunday morning.

Enjoy the music, but most especially enjoy your day!🌞

More Post by Jace


36 thoughts on “Sunday Serendipity”

  1. jace, thanks and remember never smile at a crocodile unless you’re humming bach


    …For the first time EVER, they scanned a cold-blooded animal’s brain! Five crocodiles, to be exact. During the scan, the group exposed the crocs to light shows and soundtracks. Think flashing red and green lights, then random noises. They also played classical music composed by Bach. The researchers then watched how the croc’s brains reacted.
    Their findings? Certain areas of the reptilian brain LIT up when lulled by the sophisticated symphony. These brain patterns are similar to those detected when mammals and birds listen to music. Why such similarities between different species? The team believes that these senses were passed down from the same evolutionary family tree.


    and from CBC:     Crocodile Bach – what classical music does to a reptile’s brain


    As the crocodile listened to Johann Sebastian Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto #4, the researchers measure the animal’s brain activity. Classical music, and this piece in particular, was chosen because of its complex nature. The results of the scan show that additional brain areas are activated during exposure to complex sounds, like Bach, compared to the brain areas activated by simple sounds, such as those the crocodile would hear in a natural setting. The way the crocodile processes sound strongly resembles the sound processing patterns identified in earlier studied of mammals and birds. This suggests that this particular brain function formed at an early evolutionary stage and likely has the same origins in all vertebrates. 


  2. speaking of reptiles


    Lawyers for Trump and Zervos agreed this week to exchange “written answers and objections” to formal written questions by Sept. 28, according to a document filed Friday with the New York State Supreme Court. Rules in New York state require interrogatories to be sworn or verified, according to a source familiar with the system, meaning that false answers could open Trump to charges of perjury.
    The stipulation agreement represents a step forward in the case, which lawyers for Trump have tried to block multiple times this year without success. Zervos sued Trump for defamation in early 2017 after he called her a liar for claiming he had groped and forcibly kissed her 10 years prior. Trump denies wrongdoing in the case.

  3. Looking like the East Coast is going to get wetter.  Hurricane Florence is going to hit (most likely) South Carolina/North Carolina.  I am activated for the Greater Chesapeake Region, Maryland except for Prince George’s and Montgomery counties, Delaware and the Delmarva.  And I am on standby waiting for official administrative leave from my day job to drive an Emergency Response Vehicle (ERV pronounced Irv) to the impact zone.  If I drive an ERV it will be to supply food and water to those in the areas without power.

    Although not at the political level of the McCain funeral, Florence might be able to knock SFB off the front page again adding to his “volcanic” eruptions.  Hehe.

  4. Jace…  Fabulous!

    Yeah… Florence.  Flatus, Sturg, and anyone else within the area where they predict Florence will land… please take cover and stay safe.

  5. a favorite for all you crocs out there  –  according to the scientists. but what do they know… you really prefer gordon lightfoot.

  6. this was Florence back in 1988….   now that she’s in her 30s, hope she’s learned to behave.

    wiki: Hurricane Florence (1988) Hurricane Florence was the third of four named tropical cyclones to make landfall on the United States during the 1988 Atlantic hurricane season.

    take care all you east coasters

  7. from ny times interview with papadopolous:

    PAPADOPOULOS: My biggest regret, actually, is not telling the U.S. intelligence community what [Joseph] Mifsud told me actually the minute after I left that meeting in London with him. The stupidest thing I did was actually gossiping about it with foreign diplomats. Allegedly, the Australian and for sure with the Greek. And not telling the U.S. intelligence community until I was interviewed.
    MAZZETTI: Because that was a — you now say that is something that you should have notified the F.B.I. or somebody about?
    PAPADOPOULOS: It is. It is. Definitely. Looking back — we all make mistakes in life, you know and that’s — I really hope for it — to redeem myself in the eyes of my fellow countrymen, here in the United States. But I do really regret not telling the F.B.I. immediately after that because I probably would have saved a lot of problems for the world, at this point, considering I was perhaps the light that created this conflagration.
    MAZZETTI: The memo that your lawyers have put together says that you were told pretty early on in the campaign that one of the goals of the campaign was to foster better relations with Russia. Why were you told that was a goal?
    PAPADOPOULOS: I mean, I think Mr. Trump throughout the campaign season was very vocal about his desire to have, at least, a working relationship with President Putin should he eventually become president of the United States. It wasn’t a secret. Especially by the time I joined the campaign in March of 2016. So I wasn’t shocked at all when my supervisor, during my interview with him over Skype, told me that this is part of what this campaign is about.

  8. Lovely Jace

    It may be that music soothes the savage beast, but I’ll settle for it soothing sciatica.  Take care all and have a lovely day.


  9. I wonder whether the Bach family, say a couple generations after J. S., considered J.S. to be the singular genius he’s come to be acknowledged or whether he was just the first major talent in the family and saw C.P.E. as carrying on the genius of his dad.

  10. Pogo, weren’t those still the days of court musicians a couple of generations later? I suspect the rapid change in instrumentation coupled with determination of later family members to tout their own identities might equate to ‘Grandpa Who?’

  11. Good one RR

    And Jace another lovely morning with you and your musical knowledge.  Hope all is well with you and your are ignoring SFB until he goes

  12. So loser Mike Pence thinks it’s a shame that Obama is politically active.  I think it’s a shame that Pence is vp

  13. hope they’ve tightened the spring and oiled up the perjury trap

    cbs news:

    Vice President Mike Pence says he would be willing to sit down with special counsel Robert Mueller and his team of investigators as part of their ongoing probe into Russian interference in the 2016 election.
    In an interview with “Face the Nation” moderator Margaret Brennan at the vice president’s residence at the U.S. Naval Observatory on Saturday, Pence said that he’s “fully cooperated” with Mueller’s team over the past year and would be “more than willing to continue to provide any and all support” to aid the investigation.
    He said Mueller has not requested an interview.
    “We’ve provided any and all information, and we’ll continue to do that,” he said, adding that he would consult with his outside legal team if Mueller requests a meeting.

  14. “The pain never ebbs. The tears never dry. But they are proof that my brother, Rob, mattered’
    by Carl Hiaasen
    Last week, a California man was arrested for threatening to assassinate journalists at the Boston Globe newspaper.
    In a series of phone calls, the suspect lashed the Globe for its editorials critical of Donald Trump and parroted a phrase often bellowed by the President: “You’re the enemy of the people.”
    In one call, the suspect vowed “to kill every f—— one of you.” He owned several firearms and, according to authorities, had recently purchased a rifle.
    There was a time when I might have read about such a case and assumed the person was just another fuming, rambling misfit, all bluff.

    I don’t think that way anymore. Now, a story like this is desolately chilling.
    Two months ago, a man with a shotgun walked into the office of a small Maryland newspaper and murdered five people.
    The newspaper is the Capital Gazette in Annapolis. Gerald Fischman, the 61-year-old editorial page editor, was one of the shooter’s victims. Another was a longtime sports writer named John McNamara, who was 56. A third was Becky Smith, 34, a sales assistant new to her job.
    A fourth victim was Wendi Winters, a popular writer and columnist. She was 65. Survivors said she yelled and ran at the killer, trying to stop him from entering the newsroom. Her actions likely gave several staffers time to hide.
    The other name on the list of dead was my only brother Rob, an editor and columnist for the paper. He was 59.
    I mention him last because that’s what he would have wanted. He also would have wanted me to write more about his colleagues than about him, but I didn’t know them personally.
    I wish I had.
    So many compelling tributes to Rob have been published since his death that there seems little to add. He was six years younger than I am, but every spark of shining talent was his own. There was nothing I could have taught him — and much I could have learned from how he approached his life and craft.

    We were very close, yet over the years he won journalism awards that he never told me about and wrote exquisite feature stories that he seldom sent to me. As noted by one of the many reporters that Rob mentored, he “cringed at compliments.”

    Although he stood 6’5”, it was his kindness and drily tuned wit that filled the room. As Jimmy DeButts, one of his colleagues, recalled:

    “If you were lucky enough to have a minute with Rob, you were the only person in his universe. … You mattered. You were special. You were important.”

    He and I never worked at the same paper. I stayed here at the Her
    ald, while Rob’s path took him to the Palm Beach Post, the Baltimore Sun and, finally, the smaller Capital Gazette, where he became an assistant editor and wrote a column.

    He had misgivings about joining management, but I knew he’d be terrific in his new role, and I told him so.

    He hated the idea of firing anyone, as editors occasionally must do, but even more difficult was enacting the broader staff layoffs that have hobbled almost every newsroom in the country. That part of the job made Rob sick to his stomach, literally.
    What he truly loved about his work was putting out the news for the residents of Anne Arundel County in Maryland. It was basic hometown journalism, joyfully pure.
    The Capital Gazette — often just called The Capital — is one of the nation’s oldest papers. In recent days, it has covered the burial of Sen. John McCain at the Naval Academy, a student art contest celebrating the life of abolitionist Frederick Douglass and a deadly wrong-way car accident on Route 50.
    I assure you that the reporters and editors who worked on those stories aren’t “enemies of the people.” My brother wasn’t, either.
    Whether you’re covering the White House or the local school board, your job as a journalist is essentially the same: Get as much of the truth as you can, and present it in a meaningful way to important participants in a democracy.
    Your readers, in other words.
    As an editor, Rob wanted to see thorough, informed reporting and clear, sharp writing.
    Nothing aggravated him more than fact errors and misspellings, though we often laughed about how many different ways our last name got mangled by those in our own profession.
    Rob wasn’t as caustic and jaded as I am, and his style was more personal.
    The last column he sent to me was about our mom, who passed away two summers ago. It was poignant and funny, but it choked me up so much that the best I could manage was an email reply:

    “That’s truly a wonderful piece, man. It’s really all I can say right now. God, I miss her, too.”

    That was May 30. Four weeks later, Rob was dead.

    The twisted little creep who killed him and his colleagues held a long grudge against The Capital, the details of which had no connection to any of the victims. In 2011, the man pleaded guilty to harassing a woman, and the newspaper had accurately reported the circumstances.

    A flaky libel suit that the stalker filed had long ago been tossed out of court, but he continued threatening staff members online. I recall Rob mentioning it to me once or twice; he sounded concerned, but then the threats abated.

    On June 28, the day of the murders, the shooter mailed letters to The Capital’s former attorney, a judge and an appeals court. In the letters, which arrived after the crime, the shooter declared he was heading to the newspaper to kill everyone there.

    That’s probably what would have happened if he’d taken an assault rifle instead of a shotgun. The time it took him to reload bought several precious seconds for the six employees who survived. The police arrived swiftly and found the gunman hiding under a desk.

    I know enough about my brother’s final moments to realize I don’t want to know any more.
    He and I chose a career that in these times requires writing about mass shootings in ghastly detail and with sickening frequency. As I write these words, police are swarming the scene of a fatal multiple shooting in downtown Cincinnati.
    And only two weeks ago, a young contestant at a video-game tournament in Jacksonville killed two people, wounded nine others and then shot himself.
    If he were still alive, Rob and I would have been on the phone talking about these acts of bloody lunacy, as we talked after Columbine, Sandy Hook, Las Vegas and too many others. The Stoneman Douglas massacre was particularly shocking, because I, Rob and our sisters had attended Plantation High School, not far from Parkland.
    When my brother and I discussed these tragedies, we spoke not as hard-bitten reporters trying to analyze a hideous crime, but as fathers trying to figure out what kind of a country we were leaving to our children, and their children.
    Rob was murdered on his wife’s birthday. He had placed Maria’s gift on the dining room table before driving to the newsroom for the last time.
    Now our family is part of the fast-growing, long-grieving community of those whose lives have been torn apart by gun violence. Every spouse, pare
    nt, sibling or child of a victim has soul-wrenching stories to tell, like ours, about the beloved and irreplaceable person they’ve lost.

    The pain never ebbs. The tears never dry. The awful cosmic questions never get answered.

    My brother wasn’t shot because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was shot because he was exactly where he was supposed to be, where he wanted to be, editing a newspaper on deadline for the readers in a town he loved.

    He was shot because he was a journalist, and for no other reason. You can go online and find more than a few yammering fascists who think that’s perfectly OK here in the United States of America, in the year 2018.

    The guy who threatened to shoot up the Boston Globe plainly held that view.

    Yet the people of Anne Arundel County don’t view their daily paper as the enemy. A community fund to benefit the families of the slain Capital Gazette staffers already has raised almost $1 million.

    Scholarships in Rob’s name and for other victims have been set up at the Philip Merrill College of Journalism at the University of Maryland in College Park, where my brother taught a reporting class.

    A fine novel that he finished, Float Plan, is being published on Sept. 15 by Apprentice House Press. The proceeds will go to Everytown for Gun Safety, a group founded by former New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg.

    These are positive things that have buoyed my brother’s wife and their three grown children,
    and will help carry them forward. As the Parkland survivors and families can tell you, there will forever be days when it all still seems impossible, unreal, unendurable.

    Each of us struggles with overwhelming loss in our own way, so I wrote a column, which, after an eternity in this business, is all I know how to do.

    It would have been a better piece if Rob had been here looking over my shoulder. By now he would have gently told me to wrap it up, for God’s sake.

    So I will, by borrowing from his friend Jimmy DeButts.

    My brother mattered. He was special. He was important.

    And he still is. They all are.

    That’s a fact.

  15. I would apologize for taking up so much bandwidth for the Hiaasen column, but he had some very important things to say and he said them in such a manner that couldn’t or shouldn’t be abbreviated.

  16. and they thought the plaid shirt guy was bad?


    wonkette:  Dear Miss Manners: What’s The Proper Way To Wipe Your Nose On A Flag At A Trump Rally?


    Donald Trump went to Montana for one of his Please Love Me And Tell Me I’m Loved, NO, MORE! MORE! rallies, and while the words falling out of his dumb dough face were the usual random stream-of-sundowning brainturds we’ve come to expect, the crowd behind him was more interesting than almost anything he said. While the White House is clearly dysfunctional, the choreographers for Trump’s Montana event were fine-tuning the composition of the chairs on the Titanic people standing behind him as the speech droned on and on.


    But the real show was in the bleachers behind the Great Man. For instance, there was this young lady who wiped her nose on the holiest patriotic artifact of all, the Beautiful American Flag:
    Yes, yes, she’s young, dazed by TV lights, and obviously not giving any thought at all to how it looks to be wiping snots all over Old Glory, but can you imagine if this had been a black teenager standing within a mile radius of any event involving Barack Obama, let alone right behind him? Fox News would be running the tape on a nonstop loop, the young malefactor would have been identified within 30 minutes, and creeps on Twitter and Breitbart would be calling for her to be sent to Gitmo at a minimum. Her family would have gone into hiding — if they made it out of their firebombed home alive, of course.
    None of which should happen to anyone, and certainly not to this kid. But remember, it’s black athletes protesting police killings of unarmed black people who have no respect for Our Flag.

  17. Pogo, I watched the whole darned game. The fans who stayed from start to finish deserve medals. And letdowns galore for both teams and their fans. All-in-all a tie was the proper score. But I sure was rooting for the Browns!

  18. Pence is not some impotent dummy.  He’s got a PAC, he’s getting ready to be prez at some point; none of this is good.

  19. I would trust Haley based on her performance in SC and on how SC is continuing to thrive. Also, the gent from Ohio seems to have the personal qualities that we demand in a president. Both would work well in a multi-party environment.

    I’ve yet to become comfortable with any of the Democratic potential candidates. I hope that changes as I’m a Democrat at heart.

  20. KGC – the self-loathing and maybe gay guy was to bring the evangelical “religious” groups to the adulterer and admitted pervert side of the vote. Turns out the so called evangelical are as perverted and racist as SFB.  The greedy old perverts could have brought back Caribou Barbi to be veep and had the same effect.

    If you are on the Mid-Atlantic area get ready to be rained on.  Florence may hit the Carolinas, but she is ready to dump a lot of rain on the Virginia, Maryland, D.C., Delaware and Pennsylvania region.

  21. BB, please, you be careful out there. You’re of no use to anybody, much less us, if you manage to drown yourself doing something that is patently unsafe without proper backup.
    p.s. I’m proud of you!

  22. Flatus, I was in and out throughout the game. Watched the entire 4th quarter and OT. I was pulling hard for the Browns as well.

  23. Yes, all of you on the east coast stay safe.

    Flatus – Do you mean Kasich?  He seemed reasonable in contrast to the rest of the Republican field.

  24. I watched a bit of TWC’s live tracking of Florence and there is almost every chance it will blast ashore SOMEWHERE between Charleston and Cape Hatteras likely as a Category 4 storm. Those of you in that area pay close attention and get the hell out at least a day before projected landfall late Thursday.

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