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       #Post#: 281--------------------------------------------------
       GINGERBREAD MAN (Project of the Week for 20th of February)
       By: moleshow Date: February 20, 2017, 12:10 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Run, run, fast as you can, you can't catch me, I'm the
       Gingerbread Man.
       a real gloomy piece of work, and this week we are talking about
       it... since The Gloomy Season is coming to an end... sorta.
       :^)
       #Post#: 282--------------------------------------------------
       Re: PROJECT OF THE WEEK (20th of February): GINGERBREAD MAN
       By: eggoddleo Date: February 21, 2017, 8:00 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       I always took the Gingerbread Man as representation of an ear
       worm -- a brain virus -- that runs from head to head, affecting
       each of its victims with a neuroses unique to that character.
       Since many of the tracks feature guest personnel, you could say
       the Gingerbead Man is The Residents, affecting their guest
       musicians and voice actors with their madness, and perhaps,
       controlling the listeners as well. That's all I really have to
       say on this one. Sorry, folks!
       #Post#: 286--------------------------------------------------
       Re: PROJECT OF THE WEEK (20th of February): GINGERBREAD MAN
       By: moleshow Date: February 26, 2017, 3:38 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       this one is a bit of a toughie for me. i have to really be in a
       mood to be able to listen to this. it has a certain vibration to
       it as a whole. it's something low and rumbling. they set quite a
       mood in this one, and it signals heavily to their methods and
       habits further up the road. the mood is something sticky, swampy
       and dark. the characters all seem to have a resentment, a fear,
       a hunger within them that practically oozes out. in fact, i'd go
       as far as to say that oozing out is exactly what it does! it
       drips and leaks. but just as the spirit of death itself has not
       manifested itself traditionally, something replaces that
       clinging, slimy liquid. music.
       for MIDI, i think the sound is unexpectedly alive. the
       modification to the GBM tune for each character as the rhyme
       turns into the songs of troubled minds feels clever to me, each
       and every time. they communicate complexity with elegance
       straight out of the gate. so, about the characters...
       The Weaver: The Fool And The Death-Maker Die Alone
       The Weaver seems aggressively neurotic. her isolation reinforces
       her worry as she reinforces her isolation through placing the
       individuals in her life up to unattainable standards. while she
       is never satisfied with others, her anxiously critical nature
       bleeds over as she traps herself in endless cycles of desperate
       self-doubt. she frets about the future as she sees the potential
       in each incoming moment. the potential for disaster, the
       potential for a miracle. of course, she focuses on the potential
       disasters and becomes lost  in the hypothetical situations. as
       with all of the Gingerbread Man's favorites, we only hear how
       she thinks for a moment, and we're off again to the next
       individual.
       The Dying Oilman: Blinded By The Hostages Of Fortune
       The Dying Oilman rapidly goes between futility, regret and
       resentment. by allowing himself to lead a life in a singular,
       straight line, he only sees the opportunities that passed him
       by. but he is detached from those who were at the center of
       hopeful opportunities. no, instead he fixates on someone who he
       believes has wronged him. someone to blame, at the very least.
       as he is forcefully pulled into the hopelessness of the present,
       the resentment that allowed him the momentary illusion of power
       disappears and futility manifests once again in his mind. he has
       desires that will clearly never be realized. it is no wonder why
       he feels like a bug about to be squished - he sees no use in
       moving from beneath that which comes down upon him.
       The Confused Transsexual: Stamen And Pistallate Together Again
       i will admit that the name of this track makes me a little
       uncomfortable (this is the part where those that are inclined to
       voice such an opinion complain about "PC culture"). she faces a
       certain difficulty - she is as she wanted to be in only one
       sense, but her confusion is rooted in her isolation. not much is
       fixed for her, despite her efforts. so, she wonders. she wonders
       if any other creature - in this case, crows, experience the
       nuances of interaction as humans do. she questions if all that
       they do is instinctual and out of their control. from there, she
       wonders if they feel regret for that which they cannot control.
       it would seem that she is projecting onto them in an effort to
       relate to anything at all.
       The Sold-Out Artist: Black Are The Legs Inside The White
       Sepulcher
       The Sold-Out Artist is bitterness embodied! he has learned what
       works and how often. he has broken the code of the art business
       and becomes cynical at the sight of its inner workings laid bare
       before him. his isolation is only deepened by his cynicism as he
       believes the areas of the world that he has found his place in
       is filled with those who cater to desires outside of their own.
       he must find something to admire, something or someone to
       elevate to a status bordering on holiness. Ted Williams. the
       appeal may be that, in baseball, success does not involve
       gauging the tastes and trends relevant to your audience. it
       involves skill. and if one had enough skill, they would become
       admired and loved. seems like our Artist chose the wrong thing
       to pursue.
       The Ascetic: Shadows Doubt The Strength Of The Sun
       The Ascetic becomes detached from the world in the hopes of
       controlling his doubts and fears. he subsequently is alone to
       share a space with no one but himself. going through the motions
       of accomplishment without reason, it would seem that he is
       reenacting a lifestyle that is not his own. he longs for the
       sureness attached to that which he left behind. he is trying
       desperately to find the choice, the act that will bring him to
       the certainty that he so desires. but he, himself, has ceased to
       exist in an active sense. he moves through life in a way that
       surely had been the key for someone else. but within his
       headspace, he cannot understand why such behaviors fix nothing
       for him. and he has no one to suggest a possibility. he climbs
       the mountain, and then will be brought down by doubt. he will
       climb it again, and be brought down again, and again.
       The Old Soilder: Safety Sells, But War Always Wins
       The Old Soldier is gripped tightly between resentment for the
       present and sorrow for the past. he cannot help but recall
       instances that remind him wholly of his insignificance to
       someone he loved. he puts himself in places where he invites the
       past to linger over him, to sit upon his shoulder, to crush him.
       his reality is one where he sees those who he surely seems
       identical to from the perspective of an outsider. its the
       internal aspects of his being that differentiate him. he has
       settled for less to enjoy an illusion of stability around him.
       this choice leads him to be isolated in a way that can (and is)
       easily hidden.
       The Aging Musician: Narcissus Knows No One Naked
       The Aging Musician has a hatred for all that he is surrounded
       by. his life revolves around remnants of his past. it is not
       about who he is, but who he was. now shoved aside by an
       environment, an industry that has chewed him up and spit him
       out, he cannot help but feel massively resentful. he could
       surely never blame his own inability to adapt and so he believes
       that no fault could be placed upon him - the industry must be
       guilty. change is the thing that, as he sees it, discarded him.
       as new trends manifest, his conclusion is that no validity or
       worth exists in the "now". he considers his situation. he has no
       control over the world of music, unless through his own death.
       he subsequently seeks out the illusion of control in the thought
       that he would be seen once again. the thought of gun control
       exists, to him, more as a presence threatening to take from him
       that which could return even a singular aspect of his existence
       to his ideal. he recognizes that he would not be able to fully
       bask in the spotlight as he so desires, to be seen in the
       present that he despises. yet, he wishes to be able to exist
       once again in the now, if he could only put in the effort. of
       course he doesn't. he just shifts the blame for his
       circumstances out onto the world surrounding him, never seeing
       him.
       The Butcher: The Flesh Of Animals Angers Anew...And Moos
       The Butcher is probably my favorite of these folks stuck in the
       pits of isolation and despair. The Butcher has seen into the
       mouth of the beast and managed to escape. he, like all the
       others, is alone. the cruel spirit that lies within him is one
       of resentment... and fixation. a man known only as "Buddy" is at
       the center of his obsession. The Butcher sees him as a true
       menace; doing all that he does to spite the one that has shaped
       his worldview around him. minor annoyances become much more than
       just that. they become symbolic and hateful. one can only see so
       much and remain the same. The Butcher is past the point of no
       return. at his core, he has been twisted and morphed into
       something else entirely. having come so close to the end (one
       that invalidated anything he had been told would be there,
       waiting, for him) only to be pulled back from whence he came
       leaves him grasping for a constant. that constant seems to be
       Buddy.
       since The Butcher is alone in what he has seen, resentment
       bubbles up within him. he doesn't believe that he deserved to
       see the horrific disappointments that lie in wait for him, but
       he believes that Buddy does, for he has committed such
       irreparable, terrible acts. and The Butcher wishes he would have
       stayed there. but his fixation shifts in tone. it becomes
       evident that Buddy's existence contains all that our frantic
       narrator desires. his life is a pleasant, unknowing one, filled
       with the joys of connection. and yes, there seems to be a want
       for that. but The Butcher doesn't seem to stop at longing for
       the pleasantries of that life. he seems infatuated with the man
       himself. he is stuck inside the whirlpool of obsession - one
       fully equipped with a bear trap (obviously clamped down upon a
       Butcher's brain, definitely not a jolly one). he goes around,
       and around.
       The Old Woman: Kissless Are The Isolated, Rootless Are Their
       Tongues
       our last miserable individual is The Old Woman, an excessively
       critical woman staring bitterly in the face of where she has put
       herself. much like The Aging Musician, she sees no possibility
       that anything could truly be her fault. despite having pushed
       away her family with her behavior, it seems impossible to her
       that she could truly do any wrong - it was simply that others
       viewed her noble, necessary actions in the wrong light. but she
       wonders if, in her isolation, her absence from this plane would
       be noticed? would anyone notice at all, and if so, when? she of
       course backs away from such a thought. her reasoning being the
       incompetence of others. she believes that only she is capable of
       adequately caring for her plants. any life to control is good
       enough for her. it becomes evident that something more exists in
       the substance of her isolation. more than the rejection of a
       critic. no, it would seem that she has done something
       unspeakable. in her eyes, out of necessity. she believes that
       somebody had to do it. in her self-sacrificing ways, she did
       what she had to do. unfortunately, she seems to be the only one
       who sees necessities where others do not. how miserable.
       Ginger's Lament
       Ginger's Lament has the feeling of an outsider looking in upon a
       carnival of misery from which many cannot escape from their
       adopted roles. the Gingerbread Man observes this, without any
       outright judgement. although, the cookie man, as we now know,
       doesn't hesitate to take a closer look at acts that set
       themselves apart in some way. but he doesn't just see them as he
       does all the others. he listens in.
       #Post#: 287--------------------------------------------------
       Re: PROJECT OF THE WEEK (20th of February): GINGERBREAD MAN
       By: CheerfulHypocrite Date: February 26, 2017, 3:39 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Imagine a world with only two television channels, where the
       television had a coin slot on the front and you could watch up
       to six hours for six pennies. The coin slot only accepted
       sixpence pieces. On the weeks that people did not work you did
       not see the television. Which was frequent. Dockworkers, in
       Liverpool, were hired on The Lump. Men queued up at the Dock
       Gates to get a single day's work and then retired to the Pub at
       the end of the Day. There were over 300 Pubs in a mile of the
       Dock Road and Scottie Road (Scotland Road). The skill in getting
       work was in knowing which Ships were in and so which Dock needed
       Dockers. The skill in getting paid was in knowing which Pub the
       Gangmaster drank in and in putting a drink behind the bar for
       the Gangmaster when you got paid - in order to ensure getting
       work the next day. The skill of the Dockers wife was to get to
       the money before the Barman. Gangmasters got rich. Dockers got
       drunk. Dockers' wives got beaten.
       The sixpence for television meant that it was a treat. More
       often than not it was the adults who got the treat. Should you
       have friends who were allowed to watch television all the time
       then they were Middle Class. If their television had no coin
       slot then they were Rich. Posh, in fact. I saw Billie Whitelaw,
       Samuel Beckett's favourite actress, on Jackanory in about 1969.
       It was 1969 because Men landed on the Moon later in the year.
       The television screen was tiny - about twelve inches or perhaps
       fifteen - and the image black and white. The image quality was
       so poor that we were, in essence, listening to Billie Whitelaw
       reading. Not quite the galloping horror of Not I but neither was
       it a comfortable thing. There was also the tension of waiting
       for Adults arrive to throw you out to go home to "eat dinner".
       Which is where I first heard Billie Whitelaw's voice telling a
       story. In a house near Upper Stanhope Street in Toxteth. An air
       raid took place on 10 January 1942, destroying several houses on
       Upper Stanhope Street. One of the houses had been the home of
       Alois Hitler, Junior, half brother of Adolf Hitler and the
       birthplace of Hitler's nephew: William Patrick Hitler. The
       demolished houses were turned into a grassed over garden.
       Visible from the houses where Billie Whitelaw was intoning some
       story or other. The story of Hitler in Liverpool was probably
       one of the subtle, cultural, motivations for embracing Third
       Reich 'n' Roll: like it or not, Hitler is part of the Liverpool
       historical landscape. Like slavery.
       It was getting on for a decade later that Billie Whitelaw
       terrified me as Mrs Baylock in The Omen. This was before I
       discovered the even more terrifying Not I but after I discovered
       the joy of Jamaican Ginger Cake and Ginger Nut biscuits. For a
       while, because of the slurry left after dunking biscuits of any
       kind, the Armadillo Tea Rooms in the environs of the Liverpool
       School Of Language Music Dream And Pun, frowned upon the
       biscuit. Ginger, being generally derived from the West Indies,
       was the produce of slavery. Which was never a reason given for
       banning dunking.
       The Ginger Bread Man was, at one point, a Pub in Ormskirk. A
       supposed viking settlement in West Lancashire once famed for its
       Ginger Bread. The name Ormskirk is Old Norse in origin. Derived
       from Ormres kirkja,  from Ormr (which means "serpent" or
       dragon), kirkja for church. Ormr may have been a Viking who
       settled but, equally, may have been a Dragon. Ormr became a
       Christian and founded the church. Without records or
       archaeological evidence to support this, Ormr's identity is
       unknown. Ormr is merely one more Jon Doe in a wide variety. But
       the Viking John Doe, whose settlement became famed for Ginger
       Bread is more a John Dough - a kind of anonymous protagonist.
       Ormr is unlikely to have invented the Ginger Bread Man - that
       achievement was Queen Elizabeth I. She kept a Baker who make
       likenesses of visiting dignitaries.
       [quote]
       There was once a little old man and a little old woman, who
       lived in a little old house in the edge of a wood. They would
       have been a very happy old couple but for one thing - they had
       no little child, and they wished for one very much. One day,
       when the little old woman was baking gingerbread, she cut a cake
       in the shape of a little boy, and put it into the oven.
       [/quote]
       This modern story dates from the Saint Nicholas Magazine of May
       1875. It was a well known story that had been circulating orally
       for a century or so or three. The Ginger Bread Man had even
       picked up a name in some places - John Dough - and the entire
       story is about the anonymous boy running faster and faster to
       evade capture. Everything about The Gingerbread Man is steeped
       in tradition and mythical potential. The traditional chant for
       the story was
       [quote]
       Run, run, as fast as you can
       You can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man
       [/quote]
       To which the  Residents have added a couplet that develop the
       essential anonymity of the Gingerbread Man
       [quote]
       You can look, look, hard as you can
       You can't see me, I'm the Gingerbread Man
       [/quote]
       And then a further couplet that makes it ever clearer that the
       Gingerbread Man is not quite the same as the small boy eaten by
       a fox in the 1875 version.
       [quote]
       Poor old family of man
       Never mind me, I'm just a Gingerbread Man
       [/quote]
       Which is different in tone to the 1875 Gingerbread Man whose
       escape is a source of joy rather than a portent of Fates
       visiting.
       [quote]
       I've run away from a little old woman,
       A little old man,
       A barn full of threshers,
       A field full of mowers,
       A cow and a pig,
       And I can run away from you, I can!
       [/quote]
       The Residents Gingerbread Man does not simply run away but, on
       departing, takes something away. The Weaver loses, or seems to
       lose, a child. The Dying Oilman all he as lived for: his work.
       The Sold-Out Artist loses everything except money. The Old Woman
       is in the process of losing herself. When the Gingerbread Man
       visits it is like Death of traditional folklore: departing as
       soon as arriving. Leaving only the shadows behind. Rumours and
       stories. Like the parkland  where Hitler used to live.
       In the abbreviated version there is no babbling of each of the
       characters. Just a run through of a fairly straightforward song.
       Each track begins with the Gingerbread Man[.i] theme and then
       collapses into a kind of [i]Jackanory story but approaching the
       lense of Not I. Unlike Freak Show the characters are being
       touched by the anonymity bringing John Dough and fading into
       obscurity. They are not becoming famous or even pretending to be
       famous. These are the lives of people pretending.
       [quote]
       If you like to pretend that you'll never get old
       You got what it takes to rock and roll
       [/quote]
       Yet each one loses the ability to pretend as the Gingerbread Man
       visits like some kind of Edward Elgar of the soul. Elgar created
       fourteen variations - which may correspond to the fourteen
       stations of the cross in a Catholic Rosary - on a theme:
       Variations on an Original Theme, Op. 36 known as the Enigma
       Variations. Each variation is dedicated to a friend or
       acquaintance. Elgar called these the Enigma Variations - his
       dark sayings for reasons that have not been fully explained. The
       same sort of thing happens with the Gingerbread theme.
       The memory of voices winds through the characters' reflections
       after they are visited by the Gingerbread Man. The Old Woman has
       the memories of her family merging into the angel of death
       visiting her in the form of the John Dough. In the end she is
       the one who voices the greatest concern of all of the characters
       [quote]
       Angel, answer my prayer
       And tell me if anyone else
       Knows how much I am scared
       That I might murder myself
       [/quote]
       The enigmatic variations on a theme are all different ways in
       which they murder themselves. Not always literal, as the
       Sold-Out Artist illustrates. The Sold-Out Artist refers to
       Marcel Duchamp's n_de Descending The Staircase - which was
       something of a revolution. It annoyed the Cubists and the
       Futurists because it was neither Cubist nor Futurist. Later in
       his career, Duchamp worked for twenty five years, in secret, on
       Étant donnés (Given: 1. The Waterfall, 2. The Illuminating Gas,
       French: Étant donnés: 1° la chute d'eau / 2° le gaz
       d'éclairage.) Which was only revealed to the world after
       Duchamp's death. Like the Theory of Obscurity: only making the
       work available once the creator has forgotten it.
       [quote]
       Coulda sat out the last game with a .3995
       And gone in the book as .400 but he played
       And he went four for five
       [/quote]
       Like the field in Stanhope Street. Ted Williams could have sunk
       into obscurity. But he went on to have a career in Fishing.
       Which is just what John Dough sees all of the characters denying
       to themselves: the opportunity for anything other than a single
       life with an increasingly diminished circle of existence. Like
       the mouth in Not I which is the most abbreviated presence Billie
       Whitelaw could have had after being the Storyteller to children
       in Jackanory.
       The Gingerbread Man is the compassionate, enigmatic, variation
       who laments, much in the vein of Godsong from Fingerprince:
       [quote]
       There once was a species who filled up the world
       With lust, love, confusion, talk, tacos, and turds.
       [/quote]
       [quote]
       One of His favorite things
       Was man's believing in Him, and then not believing in Him
       [/quote]
       As the Gingerbread Man runs across the landscape, there is much
       of the not believing. The theme weaves through like a noose.
       Anybody who pulls the thread of the rope notices it unwinding
       even as the noose tightens. Which is what the music offers: can
       we get to the end before it kills us. Like the viking Ormr, we
       might disappear with our name enshrined in a place without any
       physical trace. Toxteth has some etymological ambiguity. Local
       theory is that the etymology is "Toki's landing-place". Toki
       being some Viking or other. Much like Ormr. Toxteth is mentioned
       in the Domesday Book of 1086 as Stochestede from the Anglo-Saxon
       stocc "stake" and Anglo-Saxon stede "place". As if there is a
       frantic desire to say names of people instead of being engulfed
       in the anonymity that John Dough is scattering across the whole
       work.
       Which is where the Gingerbread Man becomes part and parcel of
       the psychogeography of Liverpool. The sliding names and protean
       geography of a city full of immigrants where Hitlers rub
       shoulders with Lennons makes the cattle market, Gangmaster
       culture all the more understandable. Where the  Gangmaster calls
       your name you are chosen. You are privileged. You will; work and
       drink and fight and never be more than poverty allows you to be.
       The theme - the recurrent theme - being your poverty not your
       person. Yet, underneath all of that, is the muttering, mumbling,
       mania of the Lennons and the Hitlers who, like the egomaniacal
       minds of Third Reich 'n' Roll seek to imprint their presence on
       the world. Like the Old Soldier says:
       [quote]
       I can't come to another one of these ridiculous reunions
       And watch old men getting drunk on nostalgia
       Reliving their imaginary glory
       And making me realize that I must look exactly like them
       [/quote]
       There is no nostalgia for Toki or Ormr or the Gangmasters or the
       Ginger imported from the slave plantations of Jamaica. There is
       a desire to be a Gingerbread Man. To stop running endlessly.
       Yet, nobody ever does. Which is where Ginger's Lament becomes
       all the more poignant.
       [quote]And I can run away from you, I can![/quote]
       The Gingerbread Man is a cumulative tale: we find little plot
       but a lot of rhythm and repetition, with a new element added on
       to a list of events until the climax and end of the story. But.
       like the Old Junkyard Lady in Jim Henson's Labyrinth, who piles
       things onto Sarah, the accumulations are not in the words but
       the sense of the songs. Each of the songs adds something to the
       sense of who the Gingerbread Man actually is. But we never find
       out. The Gingerbread Man runs too fast. Leaving only the
       remarkably catchy theme and the words
       [quote]
       Run. Run. Fast as you can...
       [/quote]
       #Post#: 288--------------------------------------------------
       Re: PROJECT OF THE WEEK (20th of February): GINGERBREAD MAN
       By: Meisekimiu Date: February 26, 2017, 9:27 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Don't really have much to say about this one except that I love
       it! I put off listening to it for a while but was very happy
       when I did. I don't listen to it all the time, but whenever I do
       it certainly affects me. Partly because it's a gloomy album, but
       also because it's just a truly great one.
       I do want to talk about The Confused Transsexual for a moment
       though. It's always been kind of a weird one for me (but hey, if
       there's one thing I'm not confused about, it is SEX!). It's a
       bit more abstract than the other songs... most of the songs you
       could at least try guessing their title, but this one would be
       very difficult to guess. The song also sounds like it could have
       evolved from Cry of the Crow from Prelude to "the Teds". I
       wonder if the whole album was developed from the ideas from that
       cancelled project or if this song is the only remnant? Anyway, I
       sometime listen to The Confused Transsexual out of context from
       the rest of the album. I really like the almost "gothic" sound
       it has, and its more abstract and symbolic lyrics don't really
       require the structure the rest of the album has. And... well, it
       was played during the WoW show, and that being one of my
       favorite live performances by the Rz, I have a soft spot for all
       the songs in that show.
       The song may use a word that is a bit outdated, but I feel like
       the feelings of this song are a bit genuine. I don't think that
       this is the reality of most people who transition, but rather
       what they fear might happen if they transition. Part of the
       anxiety transgender people go through is because of this fear.
       Do they actually want to completely change the way they present
       themselves to the world, including their family friends...? Or
       do they simply have no choice?
       Anyway I like this album, and the rest of the songs are great.
       Especially The Old Woman. Especially the Talking Light version
       of that song.
       #Post#: 387--------------------------------------------------
       Re: PROJECT OF THE WEEK (20th of February): GINGERBREAD MAN
       By: moleshow Date: April 20, 2017, 12:33 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       OLD TALK ^
       ---
       NEW TALK v
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