cat >/dev/null

It’s a real shame that one of the bands I’d die to see live is doing a gig I’d rather die than go to, on the most inconvenient day of my totally inconvenient year.

And who knows when they’ll be back.

somebody say something!!

The big news is that finally Google has a competitor.

But they don’t seem to have a high self-esteem.

UPDATE 20080825:

They seem more self-confident by now. Too bad for them I took a screenshot back then.

And to those of you argumenting that their not showing on the first page may have been a testament to the fairness of the search results… well, if you ever show up… I guess you’d probably be right.

Last Thursday I went to Umbria Jazz in Perugia, to see Gary Burton with Pat Metheny, Steve Swallow and Antonio Sanchez.

Not surprisingly given the musicians on stage, the concert was very good.

Thanks to my very resourceful friend Rick, we got the chance to meet Mr. Metheny backstage after the show and have our complimentary photograph with him taken.

In case this ever happens to you, this is a list of things you may want to say to Pat Metheny while you’re waiting for your photo to be taken, in the form of fictional dialogues.

(Y: you, P: Pat Metheny)

Y: wonderful night. and it’s a great honor to be here.
P: thank you.
Y: no, thank you!

Y: please tell me you’re working at the new Group album.
P: hm. you should talk to old man Lyle. boy, is he lazy!
Y:

Y: what about tonight’s rendition of Question and Answer. I’ve heard it live many times, but tonight it was so special. your solo was terrific.
P: glad you liked it. I have to admit it was quite good.
Y: you could definitely say that.

Y: first time I see Steve Swallow live… gotta say the old man kick serious bass.
P: didn’t you know yet?
Y: actually I heard about it before, but now I can confirm. and hey, you did quite good, too.
P: oh, thanks, pal!
Y: no prob

This is how it went instead:

(A: andrew, P: Pat Metheny)

A: sorry to bother you.
P: no problem. (as in: let’s do this quick, will we?)
A: (hinting at Rick) we’ve been to a lot of your concerts together. (as in: it’s a precious moment for us.)
P: thanks, man! (as in: what, you want your money back?)

What’s left of this moment is the most out of focus, stupid-faced, boy-do-I-look-fat photo of me that was ever taken, and a great lesson to be learned: do not ever impinge on your heroes’ lives.

Ever.

none of this is real.

you pull the plug,

I disappear.

and nothing I ever say,

nothing I ever do,

will ever matter.

My friend Simone points me to an insightful article about a matter which interests me a great deal: can machines be conscious? By chance, this comes just a couple of days after Rough Type pointed me to an interview with Douglas R. Hofstadter, a very important and well-known cognitive scientist and, dare I say it, one of my personal heroes.

Being a cognitive science, mind philosophy, AI, whatever mind stuff junkie, I’ve read a lot of interesting things about this subject and its whereabouts. I tend to disagree with the general statement that nobody really knows exactly what consciousness is; I think I’m a little more in line with Hofstadter’s view you can find at the start of the interview. But I believe this may not interest you as much as the fact that, among all the things I’ve heard about the subject, the one that I found the most suggestive is the dialogue between Neo and Rama-Kandra in the movie Matrix: Revolutions:

R: I am Rama-Kandra. This is my wife, Kamala. My daughter, Sati. We are most honored to meet you.
N: You are programs.
R: Oh, yes. I am the power-plant systems manager for recycling operations. My wife is an interactive software programmer. She is highly creative.
K: What are you doing here? You do not belong here.
R: Kamala! Goodness, I apologize. My wife can be very direct.
N: It’s okay. I don’t have an answer. I don’t even know where “here” is.
R: This place is nowhere. It is between your world and our world.

[…]

N: Is that what you’re doing here?
K: Rama, please.
R: I do not want to be cruel, Kamala. He may never see another face for the rest of his life.
R: I’m sorry.
N: You don’t have to answer that question.
R: No, I don’t mind. The answer is simple. I love my daughter very much. I find her to be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. But where we are from, that is not enough. Every program that is created must have a purpose. If it does not, it is deleted. I went to the Frenchman to save my daughter.
R: You do not understand.
N: I just have never…
R: Heard a program speak of love.
N: It is a human emotion.
R: No, it is a word. What matters is the connection the word implies.
R: I see that you are in love. Can you tell me what you would give to hold on to that connection?
N: Anything.
R: Then perhaps the reason you are here is not so different than the reason I am here.

It is on days like these that I really wish someone stood in front of me and took the force of the blow.