Can’t Say No to a Free Piano

A few weeks ago, one of my neighbors threw out an old piano. It laid on the curb up against a dumpster, baking in the hot sun. My mom saw it on one of her morning walks and asked me if I wanted it. I hesitated for a little bit, I knew that an old acoustic piano would be a pain to maintain, but since it was free there wasn’t a good reason for me to turn down the offer. We went ahead and hauled the huge hulking thing down the street to our garage.

One of the first things we realized about the piano is just how heavy it was. Of course, you probably knew that already, but you wouldn’t appreciate this fact if you never moved one. Neither my mom nor I were professional weight lifters, but there was enough strength in my back and legs for me to lift one end of the piano while my mom lifted the other. Many passersby saw these two scrawny women moving this hulking piano and offered to help move the piano for us. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but we accepted the offers of help because it tremendously eased the stress on our backs and legs.

The first thing we did when we got the piano in our home was to clean it up. There was a thick covering of dust over the piano, and not ordinary dust but dust from crumbing plaster, as if someone has been scraping the walls remodeling the place and didn’t bother to move the piano out of the way. The inside of the piano was also covered in dust, but it was the more common household dust that comes from lint shedding off of clothes and probably dead skin cells. My mom wanted to clean that dust as well, but I told her that it’s not very wise to touch the delicate mechanisms inside. The strings were in fairly good condition, they were shiny with only a slight hint of rust, although the bass strings which were wrapped in brass were covered with a brown patina. The instrument clearly show signs of aging, but I tested every key and all of them functioned fine. Only one key that had significant problems, it was the B right above middle C. I could tell that the hammer on that one had been replaced, but it was done very badly. Instead of gluing in the hammer, they just shaved the end of the shank and popped it in without any secure attachment. That hammer was particularly wobbly, and you can tell each time you pressed that key there was a soft “thud” as the hammer wobbled in its socket. But that was the only major defect, aside from the sustain pedal not working.

Before I could play anything on it, I had to tune the instrument. The piano had been in a state of neglect for a very long time, I could immediately tell when I first tested the instrument. I’m not a professional piano tuner, so I did what any DIY enthusiast in the 21st century does, go to Wikipedia and typed in “piano tuning”, and also going to Youtube for tutorials. What I learned was that I needed a tuning wrench, strips of felt, and an electronic tuner. The strips of felt were needed to mute the strings as the piano was being tuned, but I felt I could improvise by using wads of toilet paper. I didn’t need to buy a separate electronic tuner because there’s an app for that, so all I needed was a good tuning wrench. I went on Amazon, read the reviews to find the best tuning wrench and bought one for $22 (and a couple more for shipping).

When the wrench arrived I started the tuning process. I sat down at the piano, lifted the lid and pressed the key of middle C. I saw a hammer hitting two strings, then a harsh warbling sound came out of the instrument, I looked at the electronic tuner, the needle swung around wildly without settling on a definite pitch. (Each key on a piano strikes about two or three strings that are tuned to the same note, however if these strings go out of tune they would vibrate at slightly different frequencies, and the frequencies interfere with one another to create an unpleasant warbling sound. The fact that these strings have gone out of tune for a single note tells me that this piano hasn’t been tuned in a very long time. Fun fact, the gamelan music of Indonesian often uses two instruments that are slightly out of tune with one another. This creates a “shimmering” sound that the people who enjoy this music find pleasant, but this effect is usually undesirable on a piano.) I found the two strings corresponding to middle C and stuck a wad of toilet paper to mute one of the strings, struck that note again and a metallic ringing noise came out of the instrument. It wasn’t what I have considered pleasant, but it was much better than before. I looked at the tuner, and the note was so flat that it registered as a B. (It was about fifty cents too flat, so it was actually between a B and a C.) So I took out my tuning wrench and inserted it into the tuning peg with my right hand, then pressed the key again and pressed down on the wrench. The force required to turn the peg was tremendous, it felt like I was arm wrestling a bear, but after I got some good leverage I could hear the note bending upward. I had barely turned the wrench, maybe only one or two degrees, but I looked at the electronic tuner and the note had been raised by twenty cents! I knew that I needed to finesse the next turn or I might kick that string up to a C-sharp. I pressed that key again, then with all my might pressed hard until I could feel the wrench barely moving, then stopped. I looked at the tuner and it told me that I was about five cents too flat. I decided that was good enough, five cents is too small for most people to perceive, and moved on to tuning the next string. Tuning the next string was much easier since I didn’t need the tuner, all I had to do is to listen to the two strings vibrating together, then tune the other one until the two beat together in unison. This is really easy to tell even for someone with an untrained ear, I describe it as like at first it sounds like a bunch of frying pans being thrown on the floor, but gradually as the strings get in tune it sounds more and more like the sonorous resonance of a metal bowl being struck.

I tuned the first eleven notes of the piano in a very similar way, and it took me about two hours. Tuning a piano is physically difficult, not only do you need to be strong but exercise that strength in a very controlled way. I compare it to having the strength of the Hulk but at the same time use it with the precision of a brain surgeon. Even tuning eleven notes was enough to make my right arm sore, so after the first day I took a rest and came back the next day to resume tuning. To my surprise, when I came back the next day I discovered that the notes I had tuned had gone flat by about ten cents! I think what happened was that the piano had been out of tune for such a long time that I had to stretch the strings extra hard, but that made the strings lose elasticity and go flat. I had to restart the next day tuning the same strings I had tuned the day before, then start tuning the notes in the next octave up.

I continued tuning the piano for about the next week or so, gradually turning it into a playable instrument. You remember at the beginning that I hesitated taking in an old piano in my house, and this was the exact reason why. I always knew that tuning a piano would be a pain in the ass, but I didn’t imagine it would be like this. But it’s better to tune a piano myself than to hire someone to do it. Tuning a piano can cost between $100-$200, and since a piano needs to be tuned once a year, over the course of many years it could add up to the cost of buying another piano. But over the past few weeks I found that this piano has become my passion project, I have become kind of obsessive about it. I would get worried that I did the tuning wrong, or that I stretched the strings too much. I would pay attention to every detail in the shimmer of a note, keeping mental track of which note sounds too wobbly, too flat, or too sharp. Tuning the piano has become a kind of meditative task that I take, getting myself lost in the sound of the instrument. If I were honest with myself, even after tuning the damn thing the piano still sounds pretty mediocre. Being a very small piano, its design already doomed it from the very beginning from becoming a great instrument. However, there is still kind of a charm to it. Of course, I could get an electronic instrument and it would sound better and require less upkeep, however it wouldn’t be quite as impressive as an acoustic piano. When I play the very low notes on the instrument I could feel the ground beneath me vibrate, which would have been something I wouldn’t expect from an electronic instrument. I also find looking at the hammers hitting the strings to be endlessly entertaining. You wouldn’t be able to do that with an electronic piano, since all the oscillators and microchips are sealed away inside, and even if you can see them you can’t see electricity flowing through wires the same way you can see strings vibrate, levers teetering and dampers moving. In fact, I have a big obsession with these older mechanical technologies, but that’s a story for another time.

Future Historical Reenactment

Recently I’ve been watching videos of someone who’s dedicated his life to historical reenactment. Specifically he enjoys reenacting the United States at around the time of the Revolutionary War. While I enjoyed learning about how people lived back then, I still find it weird that a person who spend his life recreating the past. Imagine if 200 years from now there is a bunch of random people who dressed and acted like people from the 1950’s to the 2010’s, portraying what life was like back then. In fact, I thought it would be fun to imagine how we would be portrayed by these future historical reenactors.

First of all, will people of the future be able to understand the nuanced differences between the different decades? To us, the difference between the 1950’s and 2010’s are very stark, but we generally have no clue as to what cultural difference exist between the 1750’s and the 1810’s. In fact, the modern person (the average Americans at least) tends to conflate everything that happened from the time of Shakespeare to the end of the 19th century. We might end up in a very weird situation where people thought poodle skirts were period-appropriate fashion during the 1990’s, or that hearing gangsta rap on the radio was perfectly common during the 1950’s.

The second thing is that there are so many different subcultures during the period we live in. We have nerds, jocks, hippies, gamers, stoners, goths, ravers, and the list goes on and on and on. Each subculture has its own set of values and practices, and view some practices of other subculture as anathema. Will future generation not understand these subcultures, and conflate them all together? Will there be a historical reenactor who portrays a hippie-jock-stoner who makes cat videos? It is possible, but it wouldn’t portray the average person of our time.

Another problem for historical reenators of the future is that so much of contemporary life depends on technology. Imagine a person 200 years from now who wants to drive a Thunderbird. Most likely a car will not last 200 years because of rust, and it would be almost impossible to find parts to repair such a vehicle. Furthermore, 200 years from now there might not be any gasoline because all cars by then will be electric. (Also, 200 years from now almost all petroleum will be used, making gasoline a scarce resource.) A person in the future may still be able to get a 200-year-old car to run, but only the very rich will be able to afford it.

This problem gets worse with electronic technology. Electronics break down over time, and because even the simplest consumer electronic device will be very complicated, it would be nearly impossible to repair. You can, in principle, use emulators to simulate old computers, but there will always be some aspect of the technology that will not be precisely copied by this technique.

Historical reenactment in modern times have concentrated on the subject of war. Therefore, in the United States the two most common time periods to reenact are the Revolutionary and Civil wars. Will people 200 years from now be doing reenactments of World War II, Vietnam, Gulf War, Iraq and Afghanistan? But there’s an obvious problem, because modern wars are fought with tanks, airplanes and missiles, and how will the average person of the future be able to afford those things? Also, a lot of recent wars were guerrilla wars, but that would mean most war reenactment would be getting ambushed, running into booby traps and burning down peasant villages, none of which sounds very fun.

Maybe people from the future won’t be obsessed with war and will be fascinated by our culture. Perhaps historical reenactment in the future would be something like reenacting the lives of the Beatles, or pretending to be a rapper. What nowadays would be just considered forming a tribute band would in the future be considered historical reenactment. Maybe they will memorialize movements when a subjugated people earned some rights, such as the Civil Rights Movement. Maybe they will be fascinated by our video games, and think that this was the Golden Age of Video Games. There are a lot of possibilities.


The way the modern world expects us to live is kind of absurd. Around our early twenties, we are expected to choose the thing we are going to do for the rest of our lives, then we are expected to do the same job year after year until we drop dead, and be happy with it. The thing is, I’ve never really found this way of living appealing, because there are many things that interests me and I want to do all of them at the same time, but because of the way society expects humans to function it’s just not possible. It’s not possible to be a farmer in the morning, a chemist at noon, a computer programmer in the afternoon, a philosopher in the evening and a novelist at night. (Technically it is possible, but I don’t think there is an employer who will pay to do all those different things.)

I think this way of living developed due to two different ideas that somehow collided together through the course of history. First is the idea of the “calling.” Back when Christianity was still influential, it was believed that some people are “called” by God to serve him. This service took many forms, sometimes it was going into the desert and pray, but other times it was to do some important work such as caring for the poor, making beautiful artworks to glorify God or even doing practical work such as making furniture. However, it wasn’t expected that everyone has a calling, it was believed that only a few people are selected by God and the rest will do mundane things such as farming or cleaning dishes.

The second idea comes from the Industrial Revolution, and it was the discovery that division of labor and specialization increases economic output. The key notion here is “specialization.” If you make a person do the same thing over and over, that person will perform that task much more efficiently due to experience. This is a good thing for the productivity of the economy, but not necessary good for the individual. In such a system, an individual might get stuck in a job he or she may not like, but finds it difficult to change career because that person has only one or two skills they are very good at.

But if this idea of “specialization” causes so many problems, why do we all accept it? I think this idea of “specialization” merged with the older romantic version of the “calling.” Many of us do not believe in God, nonetheless we believe that what we should choose to do with our lives should come from something deep inside our soul, not something demanded by society. The idea of choosing a “career” is a very romantic one. When we choose a career, we are expected to first find “who we really are” and then find an occupation that fits the truth of our being.

The thing is that the search for a career first starts out as romantic, but it doesn’t (always) stay romantic. For some people, they choose a career became at first they find that career exciting, but as time goes on they discover the less enjoyable parts of the career, and eventually become jaded. It’s the equivalent of falling deeply in love with someone and getting eloped, but later discovering that the person you married is kind of a jerk and now you’re stuck with living with him or her for the rest of your life. I don’t think this always happens, but people do get stuck in a career they initially thought was good.

There’s another problem, when I look into myself I find that I am a lot of many different things. I am a scientist, a poet, a programmer and even gardener. Each of these identities is completely authentic, and choosing one means denying another. I don’t think this is a personal idiosyncrasy, I think many people would prefer to do more than just one thing throughout their lives.

I also have doubt as to whether the idea of “career” makes sense in the 21st century. During the Industrial Revolution “specialization” was one of the things that increased economic productivity, but that’s less of a case nowadays. The professions have become so specialized that people are often unaware of anything outside their narrow realm. Specialization have built walls between professions that shouldn’t be there. For example, the “science” of bioinformatics was developed because computer scientists and biologists are so unaware of what each other are doing. Bioinformatics shouldn’t exist if the two communities took more notice of one another.

With the Internet, it makes less sense to over-specialize. Knowledge is no longer scarce, it’s easier to find high-quality information on any subject, which reduces the need for formal education. But in order to actually make the 21st century possible, we need to rethink this particular notion, as well as a lot of other notions. We also need different institutions, both private and public, but this is outside the scope of this essay (and is probably far more controversial to discuss).


The Lawrence Welk Show

Throughout the years I have seen many mediocre television shows, and for the most part I am not too bothered by them. When I was a child I watched television mostly to quell the constant boredom I felt, and even when there were no shows worth watching I would sit through infomercials. However, there was one show that I couldn’t stand, and that was The Lawrence Welk Show.

For those people who are not yet retired, The Lawrence Welk Show was a musical variety show that originally ran from 1951 to 1982, with continued reruns on PBS well into the 21st century. The reason I knew the existence of the show at all is because I am a regular viewer of PBS, and in my opinion it was one of the worst shows ever on that network (and I’m including Barney and Friends).

The terrible thing about the show is that all the musicians and performers on the show are very talented, but they were all incredibly boring. All of the music on the show are performed in a very similar style, so by the time you hear more than two songs you become completely bored. Even when the show tries to play more contemporary music, the style they play it would transform it from enjoyable to mediocre.

Another thing I couldn’t stand is the show’s unrelenting cheerfulness. Everyone on the show puts on an unnatural smile, as though they have been lobotomized, all of the songs are either incredibly sugary or sentimental, and everyone dressed like they were stuck in the past. None of the performers seem to have any kind of personality, except in that 50s conformist kind of way. I would go as far as to say they were more than automatons than real human beings, but even robots would create music with more personality than the “musical family” of Lawrence Welk. I would much prefer to listen to Kraftwerk, who literally built robots to perform their music.

The Lawrence Welk Show is a fascinating example of art that is excellent on a technically level but is devoid of creativity or imagination. Many musicians do not have level of talent of the people on that show, but many of them are better musicians because they express their imagination or personality in their music. On the other end of the spectrum are garage bands who may not be talented but nonetheless can be creative.

I think this lesson extends to all forms of art. You can achieve a high level of technical mastery and yet be missing crucial elements. I have been calling these elements personality, imagination, and creativity, but to be honest I think what makes art good is still quite mysterious.

All forms of art depend on science, but cannot be reduced to science. Painting, for example, requires (some) understanding of geometry, color and even some small amount of psychology. However, even understanding all the science will not allow you to produce a masterpiece, only by combining science with imagination will produce something interesting.

Is Fiction Useful?

I have thought about becoming a writer since I was very young, but my parents actively dissuaded me from this profession, and that’s why I became a programmer. However, the dream did not completely die, and I ended up writing a few novels, all of them unpublished.

It is hard to justify to any reasonable person why it is a good idea to become a writer, especially one who writes fiction. Does fiction do anything useful, or a mere diversion from the main task of earning a living. Scientists sometimes get flack for the things they do, but at least they can cure cancer or design practical things like computers. Is there a justification for the existence of fiction, besides the facts it helps otherwise useless people earn some money?

Some people argue that fiction does have very important uses, I have heard a writer making an online video saying that you need an understanding of fiction to persuade others. This comes from a long line of postmodern thinkers who argue that fiction is the way through which we understand reality. There might be some truth to what they say, but in the end I don’t believe that fiction requires any justifications for its existence, the same way that nothing requires any justification for its existence.

Most societies believe that it is important for the things we create to be useful. It is understandable, because societies that concentrate on creating useful things are the ones that survive. But the idea of usefulness is a human invention, it isn’t a part of nature. Things like honeybees and pine trees never had the notion of usefulness in their minds, and they are still able to survive. The idea of “usefulness” may have been an evolutionary adaptation by humans to survive, but it doesn’t express any ultimate meaning of the universe.

Some people have elevated the idea of usefulness to an absurd level of importance. The universe itself is ultimately pointless and absurd, but that may be the best thing about it. As some philosophers have pointed out, if the universe did indeed have some purpose for which we humans partake, human action would always be limited by some cosmic principle. For example, if it is true that we live in a universe where the goal of life is to he useful, we would cease to have freedom because we would always be compelled to take actions that are useful. It seems the only way we would have any meaningful freedom is if we are able to pursue activities that are not useful.

Any life that pursues only useful things is a life not worth living. In order for our lives to be meaningful, there has to be a fair level of meaninglessness in it. I have met many incredibly driven people who accomplished many things, and at some level they do what they do because they enjoy their work, not because what they do is useful to anybody, even themselves. The feeling of marvel at the majesty of the universe is what drives most people.

The Pressure to Be Creative

I am a writer and a computer programmer, both professions that require creativity. (Okay, admit that I’m not making any money off my writing, but I’m treating it as a profession nonetheless.) The thing is, being creative is not something you can follow a formula to achieve, otherwise it wouldn’t be creative. Most of my most creative ideas do not come from any brain-storming session or writing exercise, but when I am being utterly bored or having an episode of insomnia. Ideas, especially very good ideas, come to me when I am not expecting them to arrive. I would be walking in the middle of the street and a new scene for my novel would appear in my head. The same thing happens when I am working on a programming assignment. In fact, I often found that I was most productive programming work at times when I was not supposed to be doing it. For about a year I would take the train to work, taking about one hour each way. There were tables and power outlets on the train, so I would plug in my laptop and work on my programs. Those two hours were some of the most productive hours of work in my day.

A while ago someone did an experiment on creativity. The researchers took two groups of people and asked them to do a task that required creative problem-solving. One group was told they would get a small reward for doing the task correctly, while the second group was told they would get a large reward. The result was usually that the two groups performed similarly, or that the group given the large reward performed worse. It does not only hold for creative tasks, but for tasks that required “subjective engagement”, a concept I do not fully understand but I think means the person finds the task they are doing interesting.

Why do rewards fail to motivate people to do interesting tasks? Psychologists don’t yet have an answer, but perhaps this is the key to being creative. My theory is that creativity comes from taking risks, and when there is reward at stake we tend to take fewer-risks. Sometimes we have to come to the realization that not everything we do will be a resounding success. The creative process, along with many other human activities, will sometimes be beset by failures, and that’s okay.

But I think there is also another lesson to be learned, and that is we shouldn’t be afraid of being unproductive. Sometimes the only way to be productive is to do things that appear unproductive, but are really activity that gives rise to interesting ideas. If you have trouble coming up with an idea, take half an hour to do some light work such as feeding the cats or washing the dishes, and when you return you may find that you’ll have tons of ideas. Even day-dreaming can sometimes be a productive activity.

Finally, we have to face up to the fact that we can’t be creative all the time. Or that maybe we are not creative at all. The ancients viewed creativity as a gift given by the gods. But the modern world requires many of us to be creative all the time, which is impossible. The plague of procrastination does not reveal any laziness in modern society, it just is a symptom of a modern world that demands more from us than we can give. People are creative all the time, just not in ways that the economy finds productive. Just look at the vast amount of time people dedicate to writing witty comments on social media. Most of the time nobody asked them to do it, they just find the activity engaging and fun. The fact that most creative activity is economically unproductive is the reason why creativity seems so scarce in our world. It is not a flaw in human nature, just the way the economy is run now.


Handwriting is an oddly intimate form of communication. Just like everybody has a different voice that is special to each individual, everyone has handwriting that is unique to each person. My own handwriting is very recognizable; I write in a very wild and free-flowing cursive script that some people find illegible. Nowadays I type up almost everything, although from time to time I still write on paper in cursive. I still like seeing my own handwriting, and despite being slower and less efficient than using a keyboard sometimes I write down sentences just to see how it would look in cursive.

I can write in normal, non-cursive writing, but unless legibility is an issue I usually use cursive. Not only do I prefer its aesthetics but it’s also much easier (at least for me) to write using a series of connected curves rather than having to constantly lift my pen off the paper. Sometimes I admire people who can do neat, normal handwriting instead of the scrawls that I write. On the other hand, many people compliment me on my handwriting because they find it beautiful.

Americans tend not to value legible handwriting. I had a teacher who went to school in England, and she described how in grade school the teacher made her practice handwriting until it looks almost exactly like the letters from the templates she was given. When I went to school in China I went through a similar thing. We were made to write the same characters over and over again until they look exactly like the ones in the textbooks. I can no longer write Chinese characters, but I still find it marvelous that my parents can not only write them, but do so almost perfectly, as though they were making copies of printed text.

Chinese characters usually look neat and clean, but there is a cursive version of the characters that look like a wild mess of squiggles. Even though Chinese schools emphasize on writing legibly, Chinese cursive is often far from legible, even to natives of the language. Despite how difficult it is to read such characters, they are often admired for their aesthetic qualities. Sometimes the less legible the writing, the more highly the calligrapher is praised.

Some people think there is an association between a person’s handwriting and their personality. Handwriting that looks messy and is difficult to read may indicate a personality that favors personal expression and lack of respect for authority, while handwriting that is neat and uniform indicate a personality that favors propriety, law and order. I don’t know if that’s true, but there is a part of me that resists following rules and distrust authority. But then again, there is a part of me that favors methodical thinking and respect for laws discovered by science. Even though such ideas have not been scientifically tested, it is still fun to contemplate them.


Until recently, I did not have my own car. I drove a Toyota that my parents gave me. It is incredibly old, with about 170,000 miles on the odometer, but still managed to function very efficiently, getting more than 30 miles to the gallon and reach 70 mph on the highway, although I wouldn’t know it from personal experience since I would never go over the speed limit (wink). But due to the age of the vehicle, it could not pass smog check. While it was possible to fix the car so that it could, it didn’t make sense to throw so much money at such an old vehicle while buying e new vehicle would have been a better use of the same money. So I decided to retire that vehicle and buy a new one.

The year before I retired that vehicle, I noticed a change in my driving behavior. I was being much more reckless, pushing the gas pedal much harder than I had been, and making swerves that were probably too dangerous for the speed I was driving. 1 became a much more distracted driver, looking down at my phone while I was supposed to be looking at the road. It was as if knowing that the vehicle I was driving will soon be retired, I had become Evel Knivel. But as soon as I got my new car I became a much more responsible driver once again.

This got me to thinking about how the idea of disposability leads us to treat objects, as well as people, differently, usually for the worst. We usually treat things we consider disposable very poorly. Unfortunately in the world we live in, more and more things are considered disposable. The most obvious cases are the commodities we buy. Most people nowadays buy a new phone every year, and at least in the circles I go to if you don’t buy a new phone every two years you are considered some sort of cheapskate.

Human beings today are becoming more and more disposable. Romantic relationships can last however long it is convenient for either of the couple involved, then you can dump him or her when you are no longer interested. Entire organizations have become disposable. There is no nostalgia around the fact that Yahoo is slowly slipping into oblivion, despite the fact that it was once a tech giant. Even the entire global economy is disposable. It is clear from the behavior of the big banks that they knew very well that their actions will eventually lead to economic disaster, but they all seemed to have the attitude of “Après moi le déluge“, which translated from the French means roughly, “I won’t be around long enough to suffer the consequences of my actions, so I don’t give a shit.”

Ultimately, the entire Earth is disposable, the way we pollute makes it appear that we do not care whether the entire biome will survive. Capitalism has always lived on the logic of disposability. Only keeping objects that are useful to you and throwing them away when they have outlived their usefulness is the most efficient way to do business. But there are some things that are not disposable, like human beings. The Earth is also not disposable, because we have to live on it. That is, until Elon Musk develops a technological breakthrough that allows us to colonize other planets, at which point I would be glad to say goodbye to earth. But until we become space-faring cyborgs, we cannot treat everything as disposable.

Divided By A Common Genre

When people ask me what music I like, I find myself struggling to answer. People usually answer by saying the name of a genre or a set of genres , like rock, hip-hop, country or even classical, but the thing is I don’t just like music from a particular genre. If it’s rock, country or classical, if I like the music I usually overlook the genre it is in and enjoy the piece of music for what it is. (Although to be honest, there are genres of music that I haven’t found pieces that I like, namely rap and jazz, but my guess is I would enjoy those genres if I am exposed to them enough.)

When you think about it, musical genres are a funny thing. On the one hand, fans can be very emotional about musical genres, often deriding people who do not enjoy the same music they do to be idiots, and criticizing musicians who compose in style that is significantly different from the norms of their genre (think of all the people who declare Tin McGraw or Green Day as not authentic country or punk). Then again, it is difficult to make a proper classification of music into distinct genres. What is the difference between Heavy Metal, punk and emo? Fans often have very strong opinions on this and would fight to the death for the integrity of their genre, but to outside observer the small differences that makes those genres distinct from one another is totally absurd.

On the other hand, there is a world of difference between the music of Loretta Lynn and Tim McGraw, yet both musicians are still considered Country. The same can be said of early rock and roll and modern rock and roll, or early Beatles and late Beatles. And what about songs that combine genres? “Stairway to Heaven” starts off as a folk ballad and ends as almost a heavy metal song. And what about entire genres which are blends of two different genres such as Rockabilly, which is a blend of rock and hillbilly (country) music?

Most people think of classical music as a single monolithic genre, but music historians divide classical music into three or four distinct periods that are as distinct as jazz, rock and hip-hop to be distinct. The four periods of classical music are Baroque, Classical, Romantic and Contemporary. (Some historians regard the 20th century as being a continuation of classical music, while others think classical music ended some time in the early 20th century, replaced with popular music.) But a person who is not an expert in classical music will find it difficult to distinguish between the genres in classical music. But you have to know such arcane knowledge in order to be considered a “real” classical music fan, which is ridiculous.

The problem with musical genres is that it makes people see music not for its artistic value but simply use it as a social label. People who enjoy classical, jazz or heavy metal often regard themselves as superior to people who enjoy pop or country. This is not only absurd, but also a kind of cultural arrogance, the same way that Europeans look down on Americans because we enjoy fast food and Disney movies.

We should enjoy all kinds of music regardless of their genre. In fact, the different genres of music have more in common than we might suppose. Almost all western music share a set of characteristics developed from classical music. The 7-note major and minor scale system is almost universally used in all modern Western music, including jazz, rock and pop. Not all music stick with a 7-note octave, for example traditional Chinese music use only 5, while Indian music can contain anywhere between 14 to 44. Most Western music use 4/4 time signature, although 2/4 or 3/4 are sometimes used. But other musical traditions use significantly different time signatures, or to be more accurate they don’t have a notion of time signatures at all because it was a Western invention. There are also tons of other features such as the phrase structure of songs that can be found in modern pop music that can be traced back to classical music.

The point is that we should regard all the music we hear with an open mind. We should make the assumption that there is good music in every genre, and all we have to do is to find it. We should also not judge too harshly the people who do not enjoy the genres we do not enjoy or enjoy the genres we hate. Also, we should not regard an artist who deviates from the norms of a certain genre as being a sell-out or unauthentic. There can be good art that comes out of blending different genres.

Music is a powerful thing, at its best it can tap into our deepest emotions. But it is also dangerous because certain songs can get stuck with certain deeply held beliefs and memories. The music you enjoyed in your childhood and adolescence will always be the best music. Getting stuck into thinking that certain music is the best is what prevents us from enjoying other types of music as we get older. This is a great loss because we should learn how to enjoy new music as we get older. It keeps us hearing to what is happening in the outside world, and opens us up to change. If we can listen to and appreciate the music of the younger generations it could also keep us young at heart.

Why Are People Still Going To Movie Theaters?

Nowadays people complain that the only movies Hollywood make nowadays are superhero movies (that and whatever Christopher Nolan is doing). It is true that movies have gone downhill in modern times, but let us consider the main reason that good movies are hardly made nowadays, and that reason is television.

All the way back in the 50s, many movie makers were growing concerned that television will eventually replace movies as a form of entertainment. They tried various ways to stem the tide, such as providing larger screens, making the 3-D movie, and adding better sound systems. Of all these attempts, only better sound systems attracted people to the theaters. But despite the slow decline of the movie theater, they never completely die out, and in most cities there are still a handful of them clinging to life. Why didn’t television completely wipe out the movie theaters?

One reason might have to do with nostalgia. Because movies have been around decades longer than television, there are more classic movies than television shows, which gives the medium prestige. More professors study movies than television shows, and aspiring actors and directors study movies when they go to school more than television shows.

But the major reason is movie theaters are still in business is the fact that the movie theater provides a much more immersive and sensual experience than television. Movie screens are huge, they fill the entire visual field of the viewer, allowing people to see things in greater detail and giving the feeling that they are immersed in the movie. Television has a much smaller screen, it is a much more limited sensory experience. Unlike in a movie theater , you are constantly bombarded with distractions. Also, the acoustics of a movie theater is much better than your home, adding to the wealth of mum sensory experience.

But television has two major advantages over movies, the first is that television is convenient. You don’t have to go to drive to a theater to enjoy a show, just stay in your living room. Computers have made television even more convenient, it can be something you can enjoy on your laptop or even your phone. The second advantage is that television show can be serialized, so it can be longer than a movie. A movie can only be around 3 hours long at most, people tend not to be able to endure sitting for longer than that. If a television show lasts longer than 3 hours, it can be divided into episodes and put into a series. In theory, movies can also be serialized, but for some odd reason this doesn’t happen very often. The only movie to be successfully serialized was Star Wars, most other examples of successful movie serialization were adaptations from books (Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings and so on).

But movie theaters still have the advantage of providing a better sensory experience. This is taken advantage of by movies that use a lot of special effects, where the immersive sensory experience of the theater is possible. We already see this trend beginning with Star Wars. Ever since Star Wars, the films that make the most money tend to be visual-audio spectacles, such as science fiction, fantasy, disaster and superhero genres(and also certain films in the action genre).

Can movies go much beyond the special effects spectacles they have become? Movies that focus on personal relationships are still being made, but they are less successful than other genres. it looks like that for the time being, if we want serious drama we will have to turn to television. But is there something about the human experience that can be better dramatized through the spectacular experience of the movie theater?