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Romy Lightman Ryan Livingston Nicola Featherstone Allison Murphy Neil Corcoran Evan MG Brooke Manning H Celine dEon Igor Ivanov Pier-Hlne Rioux Hilary Kitz Roland Campbell Madeleine Black Erika Ellsworth

Romy Lightman



Ryan Livingston
Port Wine Affordability throughout the Little Ice Age (1270 1870)
The chart below illustrates six centuries of Port wine affordability for the typical English construction labourer. Plotted is a simple ratio comparing the average prevailing workday wage versus the average price of a bottle of Port wine in each decade from the years 1270 to 1870. Thus we may observe how many bottles of Port wine a construction worker might have afforded per day from the late Middles Ages, through the Renaissance, and up until the Second Industrial Revolution. Due to global cooling, glacier expansion, and the lack of hot summers, these six centuries are regarded as the Little Ice Age. Depressingly, we find the results to be in accordance with the views of Malthus. English living standards have steadily declined throughout the centuries when viewed strictly in terms of Port wine exchanged for common labour. This long-term trend is perhaps attributable to population growth gradually overstretching the limited agricultural resources of a given area (the Douro river valley of Portugal), though it should be noted European population growth during this timeframe was rather muted due to recurring calamity. A narrative of the major fluctuations in Port wine affordability follows:
1270-1350: 1350-1400: 1400-1500: 1500-1700: 1700-1750: 1750-1820: 1820-1870:

Sharp fall in affordability from 2.33 to 1.25 bottles due to Little Ice Age crop failures from global cooling. Rebound to 2.25 bottles due to increase in wages following Black Death depopulation . Civil war and revolt in England; economic disruption lowers affordability to about 1.75 bottles. Wealthy mercantile class emerges; Port price driven up until only about half a bottle is afforded by labourers. Port price drops due to favourable tariff policy with Portugal, bringing affordability up to one bottle per day. Napoleonic Wars disrupt Port harvest (Portugal invaded 1807). Labourers can only afford less than half a bottle. Affordability rises to about three quarters of a bottle as global warming improves crop yields.

Wages rose dramatically due to widespread labour shortages resulting from the sudden death of about a third of Europe.

Bottles of Port Wine Afforded per day of Construction Labour, 1270 - 1870
2.5 2 1.5 1

0 1250 1300 1350 1400 1450 1500 1550 1600 1650 1700 1750 1800 1850 1900

Nota bene: Around 1213, prior to the Little Ice Ages crop failures, Port wine affordability was at the astonishing level of about four bottles per workday. Eight centuries later, in 2013, a typical English construction labourers wages can now again afford roughly four bottles of Port per workday. Port wine affordability has come full circle.

Note this study does not attempt to account for changes in Port wine quality over the centuries (it has improved considerably). Reference: Historic prices drawn from a database of long-term prices and wages accessed from the files of the department of economic history at UC-Davis. This database was compiled by G. Clark, Professor of Economics, UC-Davis.

Allison Murphy

Murphy 1 <relics from last of academia~daze/the fall 2012> One should always stick to peasants and immortality or immorality or whatever the Russians are drinking. Got home so stoned last night after weird holiday obligation parties and decide to start rereading the idiot but only got through a couple of pages cuz my brain haze was getting too excited about how the first page contains the whole damn thing of it. But that means I missed nastaysya fillopvnas entrance and she is my fav coquette/fallen woman perhaps of the whole tradition. Girl wears her crazy on her sleeve from day 1 but shes never as sniveling (or saintly, w/e) as Sonia plus she doesnt have the baby drama of Anna etc. currently working on ze last literature paper for the undergrad which is surreal and mostly silly but I know I cant top the 100 on my last paper about the garden of heaven and hell madness/fall/knowledge fun in The Black Monk, so I had to drop religious readin in favour of time which is, academically speaking, also just jackin it, n I get to quote such brillz lassistudes by lit critics as the seasons are inexorable in their cyclical progress, so are the church festivals and symbols of insensitive eternity which fuckin makes you wish to never hear/read those words ever again but now Im set up to drivel out some similar gunk so that doesnt feel too promising. But white wine and parachuting adderal helps the studies go down For a long time, one of the characteristic privileges of the sovereign power was the right to decide life and death (Foucault) IN THE ABSTRACT: thinking about thinking Emergent categories: concepts are born they do not just exist if Foucault found an idea in the forest he wouldnt say ahh this idea is here so it has always been here and it will always stay he would capture it conceptually with postructural ease busting open the matrix in which it was produced the moment when a way of seeing mutates to a new is the perfect view Murphy 2 for thinking about thinking it is critique not only a thought but the process through which it emerges -motion thinkinking, about the thoughts to be a production of ideas that place in which humanity is a place for where the idea takes hold, in the form for which allows for the process to become onto itself yet, within the reach of the dissipation of thought. A congruent reaction to reason is as for the study, latented to idea that reason is no longer the apex of thoughts dwelling. Though as thought still comes through the thought which partakes itself as an activity, active thoughts, are born and emerge into the concept of the special field that allow for our position. Thus, the study itself takes into account the orientation of the manifested concepts which arise, the flow of thought, like time, like event. Which are only defined by a reflective post-oria, the isosmotic, figures which prolong itself, though carry into each moment into the form; and hence, to approaching a thought, a thought of thoughts, Is in itself, to lead away from the indivisible the production of abstractions, in the retaliatory. Thought no temporal truths The issue of capturing a thought, to have thus thought is an activity, but, also, is relative to define as an object. Thus how the integration of thought formulates an interaction between a process of thought and then the capturing of thought as occurrences. To think about, is to capture. Thought over rides the concept and allow for it to become into an entity, but then to try and enter into the entity by the process of its production relegates the form of the activity- a mitigation of the system of the pejorative announcement. - challenge of anthro is to maintain knowledge of social science in world postsociety - ask what kind of humans we are in the process of becoming - anthro of med began as war and will end as a one against cyborgs - anthropoligize as local variation thinking about thinking means not taking your concepts 4 granted the difference between conceptual and ontological claims - understanding the contingency of MY LIFE Works Cited Foucault, Michel. Right of Death and Power over Life in The History of Sexuality. 1976. 135-159. Print.

A tall black column, like a whirlwind or a waterspout, appeared on the further side of the bay. It moved with fearful rapidity across the bay, towards the hotel, growing smaller and darker as it came, and Kovrin only just had time to get out of the way to let it pass. . . . The monk with bare grey head, black eyebrows, barefoot, his arms crossed over his breast, floated by him, and stood still in the middle of the room. "Why did you not believe me?" he asked reproachfully, looking affectionately at Kovrin. "If you had believed me then, that you were a genius, you would not have spent these two years so gloomily and so wretchedly." Kovrin already believed that he was one of God's chosen and a genius; he vividly recalled his conversations with the monk in the past and tried to speak, but the blood flowed from his throat on to his breast, and not knowing what he was doing, he passed his hands over his breast, and his cuffs were soaked with blood. He tried to call Varvara Nikolaevna, who was asleep behind the screen; he made an effort and said:"Tanya!" He fell on the floor, and propping himself on his arms, called again:"Tanya!" He called Tanya, called to the great garden with the gorgeous flowers sprinkled with dew, called to the park, the pines with their shaggy roots, the rye-field, his marvellous learning, his youth, courage, joy--called to life, which was so lovely. He saw on the floor near his face a great pool of blood, and was too weak to utter a word, but an unspeakable, infinite happiness flooded his whole being. Below, under the balcony, they were playing the serenade, and the black monk whispered to him that he was a genius, and that he was dying only because his frail human body had lost its balance and could no longer serve as the mortal garb of genius. When Varvara Nikolaevna woke up and came out from behind the screen, Kovrin was dead, and a blissful smile was set upon his face.

(Excerpt from The Black Monk Anton Chekhov) Allison Murphy Russ 330 Paper I Professor Parts 10 October 2012 The Garden of Heaven and Hell: Religious Symbolism in The Black Monk Despite the inhospitable climate of his homeland, Anton Chekhov was a passionate gardener in the later years of his life and the motif of gardens recurs frequently in both his prose and dramatic works. Critic Donald Rayfield observes that these gardens provide more than a setting or mood and that they are often symbolic of characters inner world (532). This is true of the garden in The Black Monk, which is endowed with an intense spiritual dimension in accordance with the storys themes of divine genius and madness, happiness and suffering. On the one hand it represents a manmade Eden, on the other the hellish site of toil and mania. In The Black Monk the religious symbolism and contradictions contained within the garden develop alongside the conflicts within Kovrin and the larger themes of the work. In the Christian tradition, the Garden of Eden symbolizes humanitys innocence, represented as an idyllic existence preceding the comprehension of sin, evil, and suffering. In the garden, God is said to have walked and communicated directly with man (Genesis 3:8), and Kovrins hallucinatory dialogues with the monk echo this direct contact between man and the divine. The world of Pesotskys garden is in no way a straightforward Eden, but for Kovrin the trip to visit his former ward and his

magnificent garden entails a return to a childlike innocence: a joyful young feeling stirred in his breast, such as he had experienced in childhood running about in these gardens (Chekhov 228). During his initial descent into madness it seems that Kovrin returns to a state of innocent bliss as he fails to recognize the turmoil around him. He loses touch with the reality of pain and suffering so enthralled is he by his perceived divine purpose. His dialogues with the monk confirm that he recognizes he is mentally ill and hallucinating, but he is comforted because he [is] now firmly convinced that such visions came only to the chosen (Chekhov 242). He believes his work is essential to hasten the return of mankind to paradise (239). The juxtaposition of reason and the irrational in these dialogues calls in to question the classification of sane or insane, natural and unnatural. The rational psychologist in Kovrin uses logic to justify the veracity of his hallucination as the monk of his own creation explains, I exist in your imagination, and your imagination is a part of nature, which means that I, too, exist in nature (237). Further destabilizing these categories is the depiction of Pesotskys own manias, in particular, his obsession with the orchard and its fate after his death, like Kovrin he is described in terms of a disjointed and duplicated selves. In tension with Kovrins blissful attitude to his environment is the hellish imagery describing the garden in the text. In Pesotskys garden there is an insidious sense of order as the natural world is subjugated to the will of man for profit and even the flowers . . . gave off a damp, irritating smell (Chekhov 229). Despite the uniformity of this garden that made the picture monotonous and even dull(225); Kovrin remains inspired and full of joy. The most threatening of these images is the ominous thick, black, pungent smoke [covering] the ground and enveloping the trees, [that] saved those thousands from the frost(224-5). Without the smoke the garden would perish, but at what cost? There is a parallel between the oppressive smoke essential for keeping the gardens alive and profitable and Kovrins madness and the imposition of a cure and normality that destroys his happiness. Both appear essential for the survival of the organisms but they cast a shade over pleasure for the sake of the practical. Rayfield suggests the garden in the The Black Monk is the setting for its Dantean descent into unfamiliar fields of suffering (538), but it isnt until after Kovrin is cured of his state of mad innocence that he can recognize the world of the gardens as such. Kovrins fall from the lofty height of believing himself a divinely inspired genius involves a loss of innocence, his return to the Pesotskys garden the following spring is notably one filled with suffering and anger. Upon his sad sluggish return to the site of his initial rapture he moves through the garden not noticing the luxuriant flowers and when he visits the gloomy pines of his earlier vision he finds they stand motionless, mute, as if they did not recognize him (Chekhov 245). There is a profound disconnection between Kovrin and nature as the things that were once a source of joy now seem empty and agonizing. During his initial illness, Kovrin loses all sense of emotional balance. In the final conversation before his treatment he tells the monk, It seems strange to me that I experience nothing but joy from morning till evening. It fills the whole of me and stifles all my other feelings. I dont know what sadness, sorrow, or boredom is (243). To this the monk responds, Is joy a supernatural feeling? Should it not be the normal state of man? (243), contained in this statement is an idealized vision of humanity, like that in the Garden of Eden, but it is a vision that denies the abundance of suffering and confusion that defines ones human experience. In reality, there can be no good without evil, joy without pain, or life without death. It is the negotiation of these opposing forces that gives life its full meaning. Only after Kovrin is cast out of the Pesotskys garden, spending two years in exile with a new woman, does he come to understand how his own pride and selfishness acted as a force of evil amidst the three of them. He recognizes his cruelty to Tanya and her father and his experience of this knowledge causes him great shame, as it also demonstrates a new degree of self-awareness and

Neil Corcoran

perception. Kovrins experience outlines his own fall from innocence and happiness into suffering. In his recollection the bitter taste of this knowledge forces him to recognize that he is not unique and that he has inflicted great pain and suffering on others. Nevertheless, Kovrins final moments seem to combine the irreconcilable opposites from before, his breath was taken away and his heart wrung with sorrow, and a wonder, sweet joy, such as he had long forgotten, trembled in his breast (251). He experiences great pain alongside bliss and the oppositions find some resolution within him. The final scene is morbid cacophony of rapturous joy and extreme physical suffering, but there is a degree of redemption in the pleasant description of the garden and the calling out of Tanyas name and out to life that was so beautiful (252). Kovrins apparently happy death problematizes any definitive moral judgment and it remains ambiguous to the end whether he is just a madmen or a genius and perhaps he is a mixture of both. It is clear that in this final return to the garden and belief he has a renewed sense of suffering and anguish, not just his own but the pain that he has caused others. Rayfield describes The Black Monk as a historia morbi, or the account of symptoms gathering to a syndrome and death (544) and he argues that for Chekhov the garden often symbolizes a characters mentality mapped out(534). The account of Kovrins sickness and death is paralleled by the description of the garden, the dark smoke casting a shadow like madness, and the destruction of one is mirrored by the collapse of the other. It is only after Kovrin learns that Pesotsky is dead and with him his garden that he succumbs to his own disease. In The Black Monk the religious symbolism of the garden is as fraught with internal tensions and contradictions as the experiences of the protagonist and his relations. From the beginning, during Kovrins fits of happy genius, the descriptions of the garden suggest paradisiacal allusions to the Garden of Eden alongside with hellish images of toil and suffering. These contradictory impressions reinforce the thematic oppositions in the work such as genius and madness, innocence and experience, happiness and suffering, and suggest the dynamic interplay of these apparent polarities and their dependence of one upon the other. Works Cited Chekhov, Anton. The Black Monk. Stories. Trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. New York: Bantam Books, 2000. 223-253. Print. Rayfield, Donald. Orchards and Gardens in Chekhov. The Slavonic and East European Review. 67.4 (1989): 530-545. JSTOR. Web. 6 Octover 2012. The Holy Bible, King James Version. New York: Oxford Edition: 1769; King James Bible Online, 2008.

In Dartmouth I am picked up by a cab driver from "the land of Pablo Neruda" He tells me I am dumb blonde after asking if I know Yevtushenko (I do) He recites the love songs from memory flitting between Spanish and English When he realizes I live besides the school of theology but didn't signal the landmark he offers to take me up front and spank me He tells me I will be a mother He has no jokes about my brothers brain tumor He asks if I subtitle for porn and then checks to see if I have long teeth I wonder what he would do if this 22 year old welsh girl offered the blow job he desolately craves He asks if I smoke marijuana when I laugh yes he asks if I have grass on me I feel sorry I can't give him some Then he wants to know the hardest drugs I've done when I say I guess cocaine or acid he is unimpressed and asks, have you done E? Of course Are you a slut? The two seem synonymous He tells me twice how drivers are often smarter than their fares He laughs at my ignorance beyond English my monolithic tongue He is Canadian he tells me, these 30 years, but I can see how proud he is to not really be Canadian He laughs, how many Canadian noble poets do we have? We talk about Leonard Cohen but he is in a cloud above Buenos Aires Chill mountain mist blowing between my legs I'm glad there is a seat back between us When he recites the poetry we hold our gazes through the rear view mirror He asks where my family is from I explain I'm welsh he is not surprised, "You have welsh eyes" I know (I lie)


Evan MG

Red, by Brooke Manning

I dream a restless impervious mind Precipitous dolor toward a speed much like lucidity The kind the mouth cannot be sure of even when language is alive and growing There A reach beneath a ripple lies but one drop of splendor left

I do have your winter hair Magnificent but striving A strand to be weakened Once displaced Now without fear of breaking And when I can I speak to you of My I string the sentiment haphazardly across my Breast Fingers weighing next to nothing just some nail and bone Foolish At no point do I anchor their weight to be soft and swimming in blood I dream

H Celine dEon

C. d'Eon


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Music of any era will, obviously, in some way reveal something about the time and place in which it was written. The lyrical content of a piece of music will tell us a lot about what the artist has to say, but of course the real value of music itself is to communicate things that dont need to be (or cant be) verbalized. Throughout the human musical project, we have come up with different ways to organize tones to make music serve whatever function it was conceived to serve. Human cultures have sets of musical traditions or canonized rules that are to be followed and inevitably broken, revised, expanded or discarded altogether and replaced. This has happened countless times in countless places. There are musical phenomena and devices though, that are used and harnessed regardless of our place in history. Things like the major scale, the perfect fifth, the octave and the harmonic series in general have all been in use since at least the beginning of civilization in Mesopotamia. Harmonic tension is one of the most effective musical devices in eliciting an emotional response from the listener, and we have been using it in our music since before we ever even conceptualized harmony at all. When the listener expects to hear a certain chord, note or harmony but instead hears something unexpected, this is a harmonic tension that the listener feels should be resolved to the proper chord or harmonic/melodic end that we would expect. Keeping that bloated introduction in mind, this piece will highlight some examples of harmonic tension and unresolved chord progressions from two very different musical epochs: late 19th-century German Romanticism, and 21st-century Hip Hop, in an attempt to interpret what harmonic tension might mean for artists, and how musical devices can reflect the way the world is understood to people in those two eras. Music students learn about Richard Wagner (1813-1883) as one of the pivot- points in the development of the music of late Romanticism in Europe. His opera Tristan und Isolde, written between 1857 and 1859, is commonly referred to as the zero hour of modern music (that is, modern classical music). The operas titular characters can only consummate their love in death, free of the misery of existence. The opening Prelude of Tristan contains the famous Tristan chord, a virtually unheard-of combination of notes at the time it was first performed. What is important about this chord is not necessarily that it sounded new to 19th-century German ears, but that what happens after the chord doesnt make any more sense than the chord itself. In both classical and popular music, listeners expect weird-

Unresolved Harmonic Tensions From Wagner to Lil Durk

C. dEon, 2013

sounding chords and harmonies to resolve back to something that makes musical sense, and that punctuates the musical sentence. The Tristan chord, made from F, B, D sharp and G sharp, sounds like its going to resolve to something that sounds nice and normal, maybe an A major chord. A resolution like this would have demonstrated perfectly the Romantic-era idea of creating musical tension with odd chords that then resolve to a consonant, or harmonically pleasing, conclusion. Romantics were in love with the idea of the limitless potential of human will, and the ultimate musical-symbolic expression of human triumph over adversity is the triumph of a consonant chord over a dissonant chord.


The fact that the Tristan chord does not resolve nicely to a consonant chord is what makes it important to the development of music. Wagner chose to resolve the chord to E, G sharp, D and A sharp (then rising a semitone to B), resolving not to the tonic but to the dominant (generally seen in musical grammar as a musical question mark). He placed this seemingly nonsensical, unresolved chord progression at the center of attention in the beginning of the opera (and repeated liberally throughout the rest of the work) after having had his entire world-view changed three years earlier from reading The World as Will and Representation by Arthur Schopenhauer, which was at that time almost forty years old and pretty much unknown. Before reading Schopenhauer, Wagner was an idealist, perfectly embodying the Romantic zeitgeist into which he was born. Revolutions and general unrest were common in Western Europe at the middle of the 19th century, and Wagner was a strong pre-Marxian socialist who firmly believed in the triumph of people over oppressive power structures and the power of revolution to change the world for the better. In 1854 he read The World as Will and Representation and was turned completely around by Schopenhauers ideas. What Wagner came away with after reading Schopenhauer is the agonizing thought that the Will is the unifying essence of the universe, and every force in the universe is a part of the Will, outside of time and space, and completely unaffected by any attempts at influence from the phenomenal world of space and time in which we as humans operate. This idea ran totally counter to Wagners previously idealistic beliefs, and suggested to him for the first time that revolution, or any human project for that matter, is futile and pointless, as the Will always overrides any petty human attempt to change the nature of the universe, or human nature. Revolutions will never fix or change

The Tristan chord and its unsatisfied resolution. (source: Wikipedia)

anything because human nature will never change, because we are slaves to the universal Will. Exactly fifty years earlier, in 1804, Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) had experienced the same kind of ideological disillusionment that Wagner would construe from Schopenhauers philosophy, when Napoleon Bonaparte, whom Beethoven looked up to as a heroic, liberating figure, declared himself Emperor. Beethoven had just finished his Third Symphony, now known as the Eroica, in dedication to the heroism of Napoleon, but when he heard the news of Napoleon the Emperor of the French, he destroyed the first page with the dedication in an act of disappointment and rage. For Richard Wagner, the rest of his output would be informed by Schopenhauers pessimistic ideas. Why should musical phrases resolve to a desirable conclusion when in the real world this never happens? His post- Schopenhauer operas Tristan und Isolde, Die Meistersinger, Der Ring des Nibelungen and Parsifal all reflect, in their music as well as their text, the unresolvable nature of existence, through stories with bittersweet or unsatisfied endings and through unresolved harmonies and chord progressions. Wagners operas werent the first time or the last time that unresolved harmonic tension would be used to reflect unresolved issues in the real world. Wagners aesthetic descendants, Austrian composers Anton Bruckner, Gustav Mahler and Arnold Schoenberg, all in their own generations further expanded the harmonic tension that Wagner employed, eventually giving rise to complete atonality (in quotations because atonality is not devoid of tone, but rather tone emancipated from the previously established tonal rules) in European classical music, an atonality which in its time perfectly reflected the ugly, desperate, dehumanizing first half of the 20th century in Europe. Just as so many German Expressionist painters were psychologically traumatized from World War I, made even more desperate by the Great Depression, and brought to the breaking point under the Nazi regime, European composers of the late-late Romantic and early Modernist era like Schoenberg, Webern, Berg and Hindemith reflected the same confusion and unresolvability in the rapidly dehumanizing and increasingly hopeless world around them in the unmercifully challenging and atonal-sounding music they composed. The triumph of the human spirit as expressed by the pre- Wagner Romantics was rendered utterly irrelevant in the first few decades of the 20th century in light of the events unfolding in the new, terrifying Modern world. The only people trying to keep the Romantic dream alive by then were the Nazis and the Communists. As music reflects the way we see the world, the pessimistic harmonic tension that Wagner began with the opening chords of Tristan und Isolde came to its ultimate, bleak conclusion in 20th century atonality.

Despite the fact that we dont live in the same worlds Wagner or Schoenberg did, harmonic tension still happens all the time, and is a huge part of our musical language. The following few examples of unresolved progressions in Hip Hop music of 2013 will hopefully show that harmonic tension still has contextual gravity. The most immediately discernible example of harmonic tension in 21st century Hip Hop is in the autotuned chorus of Ask Around by Soulja Boy, from his 2013 mixtape Foreign 2. The instrumental is made up of a two-chord progression on synthesized strings (on the 3rd and 4th staves of the below graphic), resolving from the F major triad, down one step chromatically to E minor. There is also a sine wave ostinato (2nd staff) that suggests that the track is in fact in A minor and not E major as the strings cadence implies. The real tension is created by Souljas vocals (1st staff) in the chorus, in which he sings You aint even gotta ask around gotta ask around/ I bet ya boy you know I been ballin hard I been ballin hard. The only two notes he sings are F and E flat, each phrase being punctuated by the E flat, creating an outrageous dissonance between the E natural notes being played by the strings and sine at the exact moment the E flat in the vocal occurs. In short, each part of the track has its own internal harmonic and/or melodic progressions that each suggest a different keythe strings in E minor, the sine melody in A minor, and Souljas vocals in C minor (or alternately seen as E flat major or A flat major).

Hip Hop in the 21st Century

Polytonality like this has been around for a while, and has notable 20th- century precedent in Igor Stravinskys Petrushka ballet from 1911, whose Petrushka chord (nearly as famous as Wagners Tristan chord before it) consists of both C major and F sharp major chords together. Polytonality is also commonplace in U.K. rave music (from Breakbeat Hardcore and Jungle to UK Garage and Dubstep), where vocal samples are very often in a different key from the instrumental components like the bassline or chord progression. Instances of polytonality are found constantly in the vast body of work by 21st-century composer James Ferraro, whose early extended pieces often have

Chromatic dissonances (shown in red) in Ask Around by Soulja Boy

two, three or more tonal centers (see Multitopia, Citrac, Jarvid 9, etc.). Ultimately, though, the scope of this piece does not extend as wide as to cover UK dance music or James Ferraro, since both subjects could themselves be taught as university courses. Soulja Boys lyrics in Ask Around are about the pride he takes in being able to openly allow people to know that hes carrying tons of money on him at all times. After having made a name for himself by putting out material on the internet for years, Soulja has achieved financial and artistic success with his tracks, but being successful could open him up to a lot of hassling from haters, mugging from crazed fans, or trouble and suspicion from authorities. Even after a successful black artist achieves success, there is a great risk that police will stop them just because he or she drives a nice car or wears expensive clothing. The glaring E flat/E natural, F natural/E natural and E flat/D natural dissonances that occur between the vocal and the instrumental in the chorus of Ask Around act as a kind of reminder that even if youre balling hard as a rap artist in America, youre going to then have to deal with the many troubles that come with that success. Rap music in the past twenty years or so has often emphasized social, sexual and financial transcendence, but dissonances like those found in Ask Around allow the listener to remember, through unresolved harmonic tension, that there are still very racist tendencies in North American institutions that prevent black Americans from achieving that transcendence, and triumphing, like the European Romantics also dreamed, over social bonds. As in Beethovens, Wagners and Schoenbergs worlds, total transcendence in the 21st-century for black North Americans is too often just a dream portrayed in the aesthetic realm, not a social reality, and it is evident in the music. A second example of harmonic tension in contemporary rap music is Started From The Bottom by Drake, produced by Mike Zombie. In the instrumental track, there is no chordal movement at all. The track is entirely static, never moving from the E flat chord. The sub-bass (shown on the 4th staff in the below example) pulses at E flat twice each measure, and during some repeats of the chorus, a bassline an octave higher moves between E flat and the B flats below and above it. There is an underlying perfect E flat chord (3rd staff) that maintains throughout the track, and above it there is a piano ostinato (2nd staff) that, although the bass and background chord are in E flat, suggests G minor. Drake himself raps (1st staff) at the same pitch of A half-flat for the duration, that is, at a quarter tone between A natural and G sharp.

This track was released as a response to perceived public opinion that maybe Drake hadnt started from the bottom, but instead came from a place of privilege and was given privileged opportunities in his career. In the track and its music video, Drake fights this public perception by detailing his beginnings as a child playing soccer and living at his mothers home in suburban Toronto, going on to work at a local drugstore, ultimately to achieve musical success without leaving his old friends behind. Started From The Bottom is Drakes counter-argument to his privileged-actor-turned-privileged-rapper stereotype. The musical content of the instrumental track and Drakes lyrical content have more to do with each other than at first seems evident. It is almost as if the instrumental track is the voice of the public airing their misgivings and undermining the sentiment expressed by Drake in the lyrics. The lyrics state that he started from the bottom, now were here / started from the bottom, now my whole team fucking here. While the lyrics suggest upward movement from a lower social or financial rung, the instrumental track suggests statis; the bassline always hovers at E flat, the piano melody stays the same and the perfect E flat chord is persistent in the background. One might expect the E flat chord to progress upwards to F and resolve ultimately to the tracks true tonal center of G (minor), but it never does. The harmonic stillness of the instrumental track contradicts the upward movement in the lyrics. Not only is the static chordal structure contradictory to the lyrics of Started From The Bottom, but the fact that the bass and background chord are at E flat while the piano melody is in G minor means that the bottom (lowest) note of the song is not its base note, G, but in fact the sixth note in the G minor scale, E flat. The instrumental track seems to almost grinningly echo the public stereotype that Drake hadnt started at the first rung of the social ladder, but rather the sixth. The last musical device in track that suggests dissonance between the public narrative of Drakes upbringing versus his own (symbolized by the dissonance between the lyrical sentiment and the tonal reality), is in the relationship between the note at which Drake is rapping and notes of the instrumental track. The A half- flat on which he remains for the whole track is a quarter-tone lower than a

consonant A, and a semitone-and-a-half higher than the base note, G. This literal dissonance without resolution reflects in the most direct way the struggle between the two biographies of Drakethe publics story (represented by the instrumental) that he was already in an elevated social position to begin with, and Drakes own story (represented by his lyrics) that he had to work his way up. Which story is true is of absolutely no consequence to this piece. The third and final example of harmonic tension in 2013 Hip Hop covered in this piece is Dis Aint What U Want by Chicago rapper Lil Durk, produced by Paris Beuller. In this track, the chordal movement of the instrumental is, unlike the Drake track, upward in direction. The strings playing the bass line (shown on the 5th staff in the below example) establish the progression from C, up to D flat, up to E flat, while the top string note (4th staff) stays consistently at the tonic, or base note of F. Lil Durks opening chorus is sung (1st staff) decidedly in F minor, with the tonic of F being sung every few notes to establish it as the melodic base of the chorus. The listener subconsciously expects the strings in the bass to follow its upward route from C, D flat and E flat, up to the tonic of F, but the bass instead returns back down to C at the beginning of every second measure, to repeat the three-note phrase for the duration of the track. This feeling that the bass progression is never allowed to resolve fully up to F carries easily recognizable parallels with the social reality that citizens of Chicago, especially black citizens, face unsurmountable obstacles to achieving many of their goals. The work of Lil Durk and other Chicago rap artists seems to intimidate outsiders, often to the point of police harassment and even jailtime, preventing artists from being allowed to achieve success, and resolve up to the tonic that they deserve.

Another quick comparison to make is between Durks Track and fellow Chicagoan artist Chief Keefs similarly monolithic and defiant 2012 track I Dont Like. Young Chops instrumental track on I Dont Like employs a traditional classical cadence from A flat minor, to D flat major, to E flat major, resolving perfectly to the A flat minor at the beginning of every measure. Chops harmonically orthodox I-IV- V-I instrumental track complements Keefs insistent statements that A snitch nigga, thats that shit I dont like / a bitch nigga, thats that shit I dont like. Theres no uncertainty in the lyrics of the instrumental track; its completely unacceptable and cowardly to snitch on others just to get a reduced jail sentence. Where Chief Keefs track is unequivocal, the sense of pride-in-truth in Lil Durks track is tinged with much more uncertainty and alienation. During subsequent verses in Dis Aint What U Want, Durk in his vocal melody replaces the F he used in the chorus with an A flat, acting as the reinforcing tonic function. A flat is the relative major of F minor, meaning that instead of the chorus minor key (often associated with negativity or melancholy), the verses vocal line is in A flat major, suggesting positivity or satisfaction. To sing in the relative major of the instrumental tracks minor key is a widely used device, especially in funk and R&B from the late 70s to the present. Prince sings in the relative major constantly, creating a sort of half-tension, half-relief between minor and relative major, and establishing a harmonic world based around the 7th chord, one of the most basic building blocks of jazz, funk, soul, R&B and contemporary rap.

There are also two synth ostinatos (2nd and 3rd staves) that come in at various parts of the song, usually during a chorus, which support the F minor structure of the instrumental as a whole, but create some harmonic tension when the bell (2nd staff) plays a C in each measure, creating an unresolved suspension that the listener expects to rise a semitone to meet with the D flat that is being established by the bass strings (5th staff). Instead of resolving up to the D flat, it descends back down by a fifth to the F at the end of the measure.

In the middle of the first verse, as he first establishes A flat as his tonal base, Durk sings In my own city they hate on me, put weight on me / Fuck TMZ, fuck breaking news and ABC / I cant do no shows, cause I terrify my city / They say I terrify my city. His choice to sing these lines in the relative major key suggests maybe that his alienation and non-compromise is almost more a point of pride than of lamentation. The alienation that an artist like Lil Durk might feel as someone who terrifies his own city is common throughout musical history. Some Chicago drill artists may find kindred spirits in Arnold Schoenberg (1874-1951) and his students Alban Berg (1885-1935) and Anton Webern (1883-1945), previously mentioned in this piece as fathers of atonality in European music. In Schoenbergs early career in the first quarter of the 20th century, he and his students work were met with passionately negative reactions due to the challenging nature of the music and its disregard for so many conventional tonal rules. Even after they achieved relative critical and public

success into their careers, the Nazi regime in their rise to power declared the work of all three men degenerate music. Just as the world at large was intimidated by, in the words of musicologist Richard Taruskin, urbanized, emancipated Jew[s] like Schoenberg, the world at large is intimidated by urbanized, emancipated black Chicagoan artists like Lil Durk and Chief Keef. However, just like Schoenberg and the Second Viennese School, contemporary drill artists in Chicago express perfectly in music and lyrics the world in which they live and the dreams and challenges for its citizens, which most likely will ultimately place them on the winning side of music history. From the medieval Ars Subtilior to Steve Reich in 20th-century New York, from European Romanticism to contemporary Hip Hop, tension in music always reflects the will and struggle of the humans living in that time and place. As long as there are civilizations with people living in them who have desires (and obstacles to those desires), harmonic tension will be used to express in music the uncannily human Will to transcend the universes countless hindrances and evils, and achieve ecstasy, regardless of how impossible that might be. Historical scenarios change over time, as do musical styles, but fundamental musical devices, just like language and grammar, seem to us to be innate and constant.

Igor Ivanov

Pier-Hlne Rioux

Hilary Kitz

Im Perry... ?
By Roland Campbell The dark circles spin on the screen. They look like theyve been painted on, yet they spin obtusely upon a white background. +How many circles do you see? A man stands leaning forward and looking over the shoulder of another, seated, man, his arm gripping the top of the chairs back rest; supporting his weight. -Three. +Wrong. He points his finger at the screen. +They are not circles. They are circular, because they are imperfect. A brief pause. The standing man straightens and lowers his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. +What do the circles make you think? -Um... The sitting mans head sways from side to side and stops at an answer. -About time. +Wrong, they dont make you think. You make you think. The man sitting, watches the screen. The man standing watches the sitting man. The standing man lifts his hands from the pockets of his lab coat, sticks them under the sitting mans arms and hauls him up. The sitting man's back cracks. The man who was standing first rips the man who was standing second around at the shoulders. Standing man 1 grabs standing man 2 by the back of the neck and forces his lips on to his, sticking his tongue down his throat. ST1 stops, releases, steps back and waits. +What was that like? -Weird, I guess. Unexpected.
ST2 wipes ST1's saliva from the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. +Wrong, it wasnt like anything. It wasnt anything. It was nothing. Sit down. Standing man two sits, resting his hands on his knees, palms down, fingers splayed. His knuckles whiten. +Look at the screen. -Im looking at the screen. +Who are you? -Im Perry... ? +Thats right. Would you say you love your mother? -Of course. +Good, you should. The standing man smiles and drops his hand on the sitting man's shoulder, thud. +Now, how many circles are there? -None. The standing man checks his watch, taps it twice and leaves. The back of his lab coat flutters up at its bottom. The light from the screen illuminates the sitting mans blank face. *** +Specialization is definitely avoidable, but also recommended. The bald man sits across from the long-haired woman. He leans forward and puts his hand on the knee of her crossed leg. She does not flinch. +In fact, specialization is optimal. It allows you to carve out a slot, that brings people to your doorstep. The hirsute womans eyes move from the bald mans scalp to his hand advancing up her stockinged thigh, the friction of his palm on the nylon whispering. His fingers create depressions in her flesh. +But of course, it must be voluntary, and there are always other alternatives.

Eight armed, armoured (kevlar), and uniformed men stride down a narrow street. Their garb swishes and their heels clap. They pass wooden doors, painted a colour, coupled with small, square, quarter-paned windows. They march in a formation two men wide and four men deep. The front-left man raises his left arm, his hand a fist, to shoulder height and stops. The other seven stop at the signal. They are silent. The front-left man turns to his right and points to the man on the right side of the second row. The front-left man then points towards a green door on his left. The second-row-right man motions to the man to his left and they advance towards the door carrying a long cylindrical door ram. The front-left man glances over to the man on his right who then raises his right arm, index finger extended, and moves it in a fast circle. The other four soldiers make a semi-circle around the door, behind the rammers, but before the pointers. The rammers have their hands in the steel loops on either end of the cylinder. They adjust their grip, a final time, their fingers landing in sequence. They look at each other, feign two swings, and, on the third, slam the ram it into the door handle. There is the sound of metal on metal violence and wood splintering. The door flies open, smacking the wall caught in the trajectory of the swing. The four semi-circled men rush in, yelling clear as they enter different rooms in the house, their voices becoming fainter as they move further in. The two pointers stroll in and close the door behind. It does not stay shut. The two rammers are left to keep watch. They light cigarettes. The semi-circle soldiers clatter through drawers of cutlery, over-turn couch pillows, slice them open and pull out plastic fluff. Desk and dresser drawers emptied, clothing torn, coat pockets cut, toilets smashed. Ears against walls for knocking knuckles. Floor boards cleared up and out. Mattresses flipped. The pointers stand in the kitchen as the action goes on around them. They check their watches. After a last look at his watchs moving hand the front-left man blows a whistle. The four semi-circle soldiers rush over and stand in a line, shoulder to shoulder, facing him. The front left man pulls out a black velvet sack and opens it by untying a draw string. +And what did you get? -Ivory pen, sir. Blue ink. +Very good. Next? The next soldier hesitates and then holds out his hand, palm up. There is a transparent orange pyramid in it.

Roland Campbell

+And what do we have here? -Im not sure, sir, seemed valuable enough to me. The front left man pauses, his eyes darting between the object and the soldiers face. He sighs and tosses the bag to the front right man. +Collect the rest. The front-left man turns and walks out. *** The long-haired red-lipped woman walks towards a green door coming up on her right, her skirt flaps in the wind. There is a note taped to the door. She approaches the door and stops to read it.In printed text the note says Serviced and in allotted boxes the date and time are filled in with blue pen: June 24, 10:51 p.m. She pushes the door open without hesitation, walks through the small foyer with its newly rearranged closet, and into the kitchen. It smells of stale cigarette smoke. Her heels crunch on broken dishes scattered across the linoleum floor. At the back of one emptied cupboard she finds a glass. She turns on the tap, letting it run cold before she begins to fills her glass. On the wall above the sink hangs a frameless mirror. The woman looks into the mirror, sees an errant hair, puts it where it belongs and squishes her nose, before returning her attention to her glass, now nearly full. She twists off the water, takes a sip, turns around and heads toward the living room, kicking aside a broken mug. Canned laughter leeches from the living room. It greets the long-haired woman as she enters. The lamps are broken. The laptop monitor is the only light source filling the room, a dull glow. Perry is sitting on a couch opposite the laptop, which is sitting on a milk crate. His arm rests on the arm of the couch, at shoulder level, there are no cushions. His face is blank, but his eyes twinkle, reflecting the screen. He turns and sees the red-lipped woman. +Oh, hey. He smiles and points to the laptop, his eyelids droop, and returns his attention to the late-night talk show. The long-haired woman plops herself down on the other side of the

couch and lays her stockinged legs on Perrys lap. He begins to stroke her shins. The woman finishes her glass and places it on the floor beside the couch, blindly feeling for the ground, letting her arm descend slowly before touch-down. She looks at Perry. -Whatd they get? +Didnt look. Perry doesnt break his gaze from the show.The long-haired red-lipped woman smiles at him and begins to watch the talk show, the smooth skin of her face pale blue from the light of the monitor. *** Three men sit on a rug, two beside each other and one across. The rug is patterned with arabesques in maroon, chestnut-brown, sand-yellow, mint-green and cornflowerblue. They sit with their eyes closed and hands in their laps. They breathe through their noses, their diaphragms expanding and contracting. In between the three, papers are spread: piles in disarray, corners sticking out. An orderly steps on the rug, his bare foot sinking into the fabric. His feet have been pedicured. He is wearing a white, knee-reaching tunic, and loose trousers that come together at the ankle. He puts the ball of his foot down first, as he creeps between them, letting his heel fall silently to the rug. He drops into a crouch, his fingers slide under the edges of the piles, straightening them out, one at a time. He finishes and rises slowly, keeping his arms motionless and his torso straight, letting his legs fully extend. When upright, he jumps off the rug in a single bound into the darkness. The orderly returns with a tray. On it there are three short handleless cups and a pot with a thick wire handle, anchored near its nozzle and at its back. He floats to the middle of the rug, places the tray down without a sound, bending at the waist only. He pulls out chimes, hanging from cloth straps, and draws them together. Clang. The sound wobbles. He turns and leaps back into the darkness, his tunic rustling as he cuts through the air. The bald man opens his eyes, smiles and upon seeing the tea, reaches out and begins to pour into the two cups opposite his. The uniformed man raises his arms above his head interlocking his fingers and pulling back, yawning, his mouth opening to its widest. The lab-coated man keeps his eyes closed a little longer. His nostrils flare as he smells the tea.

Taking a short, slurping sip from his steaming cup, the bald man looks beyond his counterparts, his eyes wrinkle in a smile. -That was nice, wasnt it?

The hairy woman opens her mouth, inhales: lifting her torso and raising her eyebrows as she prepares to speak, but exhales slowly instead. Her silk blouse re-creases. She looks over her right shoulder. +What is it? I know its hard to swallow, but Im here, to support you. She turns to face him, her eyes fall on him for a second, but dart left. Her mouth hangs open and her tongue wipes her teeth. The bald mans brow furrows, he sits up straight in his chair, it groans, and looks in the same direction as the long-haired woman, into white oblivion.He keeps his gaze as he pulls out a red handkerchief from the left inside pocket of his jacket, unfolds it and dulls the shine of his scalp. The long-haired womans head jerks back to face the bald man. -What time is it? The bald man responds without checking any device. +10:51 am. -I should go. +Should you? Really? -Yes. The locked woman dips into the purse in her lap, she pries it open with both hands, clack, and sifts through. She picks out a gold cylinder, pulls and twists and paints, the lips of her now circular mouth, red. The bald man reaches into his right inner breast pocket and pulls out a brown leather wallet; he unfolds it and begins to finger his tender. His lips purse as he counts in his head. His jowls hang. +Do you need any money then? -Not from you. The long-haired woman stands, pulls her purse strap over her shoulder and walks away from the bald man. Her high heels out her calves and buttocks. He puts his wallet away and dabs his forehead again. Her steps echo and her perfume lingers. ***

Suck my Cunt (proceeds donated to Feminism) Par Blondie Bitch. Some drunk guy called me late one night in a mutual friends kitchen. Moving in closer, eyes wild in the reflection of my own, he said, Suck my cock, Blondie Beeeaatch! Placing a hand on my shoulder, pushing firmly, nodding towards his crotch. Suck my cunt first then. I said, raising an eyebrow, almost bored, without missing a beat. YOURAAAaaaaaa CUNT! he spat, and I stood: still, smirking, staring him square in the face. Eyeing me up and down, he grit his teeth, he bit his lips, Will you suck my cock Puuuuuhleeeeeze!? His words like grunts, forced through cigarette breath. If nothing else, I knew, he was way too wasted to get hard anyway; making his request really kind of funny, laughable, cute, emasculating. Hmm, not today. I shrugged, twirling my long blond hair, taking another swig of my whisky mixed drink. Cant say I wont ever, but not today. Our friend, effeminate in a silk floral robe, was bent in half laughing, cackling at this, he loves a show. Tomorrow then? Will you suck my cunt tomorrow? Well, I dont know now do I he snarled. Right, so, if we see each other tomorrow, we can discuss it. He really respects you. the friend said later, earnest. I laughed at this too. I know that sometimes, to some people, in some states, Im nothing but a mouth and a cunt, hair and lips and legs; and to them I say, suck it.

Madeleine Black

HTML-self destruction-||LKI

Erika Ellsworth

or she will die

or she will die





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||TMLD_at well there, heorenat-letz be upon the ghosts.|| paroi, forever gazed better through the stains which traverse the glass. grasp venre, sues along for well amongst over you, still holding down what sooths left shattered into the couverture, captured long. widely embraces for the conventae overhangs upon us. que ce soit, vous volent. de jour over the depth in hearth, born through shards sparked over thick between the heart.

||TMLD_at well there, heorenat-letz be upon the ghosts.|| paroi, forever gazed better through the stains which traverse the glass. grasp venre, sues along for well amongst over you, still holding down what sooths left shattered into the couverture, captured long. widely embraces for the conventae overhangs upon us. que ce soit, vous volent. de jour over the depth in hearth, born through shards sparked over thick between the heart.