The Fredösphere

It's loopy and jarring all at the same time, it has salty language, and it's definitely a film not by Ken Burns.  (Thanks for the link, Rick.)

On An Overgrown Path is by an Englishman with an eye on the choral music scene (among other things).  One post discusses the phenomenon (new to me) of what you might call the performance pilgrimage.  He mentions The Sixteen, a top chamber choir lead by Harry Christopher, who will tour the U.S. this spring (an itinerary is listed in the post).  An album by The Sixteen has been top on my to-buy list for a while now.

Somehow, this type of juxtaposition is starting to seem routine...

The scene was the people--the tiny shot girl with the pink, wool bunny ear cap and an unsettling, vampiric smile; the cocktail waitress with the exaggerated, cat's eye granny glasses; the cocktail waitress with what looked to be tatts covering her entire torso and arms. Scattered throughout was a smattering of people like me: jeans and sweaters type people who looked more out of place than the guy with plugs in his earlobes.

Again, let me stress, that they had all come for a Christian concert on Good Friday.

...but I do get nervous when I see people worshiping a spaceship.

One more new blog:  Bryant Bates Manning authors Mysteries Abysmal from up the road in Lansing, Michigan.  Hey Bryant, skip this whole bewildering internet stuff; just shout, and I'll hear ya!