Evolution of Dart Design • Saints, Martyrs and Slapstick • Yasmin Williams and Doc Watson • Suzuki Method alternatives • Hawaiian Weirdos • Throwing Bikes in the Lake

Darts from the past:

Darts now:

Mostly plastic.

Guitarist Yasmin Williams playing a Doc Watson song. Once it gets going, it really gets going. Clicking the photo should take you to the youtube performance.  

This is so smart. It’s a density shifter on Spotify. Every application should do this. Most websites have become far too spacious. For information design, density wins every time. 

Saints and violence. In the 1500s, one of the most popular books in the world was Foxe’s Book of Martyrs. It’s a detailed and gruesome account of the saints, the expression of their faith, and the inevitable demise that it causes. I thought my kids might like it. 

The language of the original is likely confusing, so I found a version that is more digestible for children — Stories of the Saints: Bold and Inspiring Tales of Adventure, Grace, and Courage. While it’s a kid-friendly version, it does not redact the explicitness of the original stories. 

There are many (many) instances of burning at the stake. In one story, the flames miraculously arch around the Saint, only to have someone stab her in the neck to finish the job. 

In the story of St. George, the townspeople are tormented by a local dragon that is blocking their water supply. To distract the dragon, they feed it sheep. Eventually they run out of sheep. So they decide to feed children to the dragon. 

“Really?” Eli asked.

Yes, really. 

Is this book appropriate for kids? Not really. But it’s helpful for understanding the icons of medieval art and a useful reminder that, for the most part, we are living in a much more peaceful era and we no longer gather in the piazza to watch people burned at the stake. 

True, we no longer gather in the square to watch people suffer, but I think this form of entertainment has been subverted in other ways. Take YouTube fails. 

Social media feeds are filled with “fails,” a benign word for someone getting seriously hurt.

There’s an entire genre dedicated to this form of entertainment — Three Stooges, Looney Tunes, America’s Funniest Home Videos, Jackass, and now, YouTube fails.

I’m not sure I understand the glee that people derive from such entertainment but I’m glad that it's been subverted into cartoonish forms (and less public burnings). 

Me and my arrow. It’s not a great movie but it’s a great soundtrack. Harry Nilsson’s soundtrack for The Point — maybe the best kid’s soundtrack ever?

Notably, Me and My Arrow was sampled by Blackalicious in Blazing Arrow. 

Why do we teach kids music the way that we do?

I was immediately taken with the premise of this article, What are we teaching music for? The central argument is that we’ve designed a curriculum for teaching music where the goal is to become a classical, independent, performing musician. 

Most kids are not going to become Yo Yo Ma. Nor do they want to. 

Fortunately, it’s an easy mindset to shift. Teach for lifelong, social activities. Skip the violin lessons. Learn fiddle and form a bluegrass group. Play piano for a gospel choir. Punk bands require 3 chords, occasionally less. Save your money and help them start a band. 

“Thanks for thousands of perfect moments." Bobby Frank Brown wrote these words in the liner notes for one of his albums. In the 70s, it seems like Hawaii attracted a very specific kind of weirdo. They did yoga and ate tempeh and meditated when it was still a radical thing to do. They also produced songs like this one: Mama Knows Boys a Rambler (Loving Canada).

I love how this song switches genres and moods multiple times. Trance, country, Caribbean, personal narrative and then something completely different in the last 15 seconds? I’m a little unclear about how the subject of Canada fits into the lyrics.

More about Bobby Frank Brown here. 

A strange scene unfolded on my bike commute this week. First: a rideshare bike on the grass, covered in muck. Then another. And another. Like skeletons excavated from the deep, it appears an effort has been made to retrieve rideshare bikes from the watery grave of Lake Michigan. 

Apparently, bicycles are so plentiful in Chicago that when a rider is done, they casually toss them into the lake. 

Remember this feeling? 

—Michael Neault • Chicago • written in the early hours • respond with your thoughts on the Saints • or any other topic