It’s that time of year again. “The silent majesty of a winter’s morn…the clean, cool chill of the holiday air…” and the long-awaited, definitive list of the albums that you should totally be (1) listening to right now, or (2) purchasing for your music-loving friends and family this Christmas.

Last year’s epic six-part tour of the then-current music scene (here, here, here, here, here, and here for you newbies) was brilliant, insightful, and correct—but it was also exhausting. I’m a writer; I’m lazy by nature. And, to be perfectly honest, it was just too hard to trim my list down to a manageable 10.

Most likely to persuade you that, really, you’re not that great of a guitar player:
The Aristocrats—Tres Caballeros
Julian Lage—Worlds Fair
David Torn—Only Sky

Best excuse to drop $45 on a box set of hippy-dippy sonic meditations:
Kronos Quartet—One Earth, One People, One Love: Kronos Plays Terry Riley

Most convincing case for metal as a legitimate art form:
Between The Buried & Me—Coma Ecliptic

Best argument against the death of jazz:
Dave Douglas—High Risk
Amir ElSaffar—Crisis
Jack DeJohnette—Made in Chicago
Vijay Iyer Trio—Break Stuff

Most likely to bring you to your knees as you acknowledge the existence of a higher power:
Francis Poulenc—Choral Music
Wolfgang Rihm—Et Lux

Best music for practicing omphaloskepsis:
Scott Worthington—Prism
Bruce Brubaker—Glass Piano

Most likely to convert a hip-hop* lover into a jazz aficionado:
Kamasi Washington—The Epic

Best tonic against the pervasive commodification and homogenization of American rock:
Steven Wilson—Hand. Cannot. Erase.
Gentle Giant—Octopus (new high-resolution and partly remixed version of the 1972 classic)

There you have it: the one best-of list you need to read this year. You’re welcome.

*Confession: For reasons that are far too complicated to go into right now, I recently listened to Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly. No, I still don’t understand hip-hop. No, I can’t express exactly how I feel about the experience. But yes, I’m pretty sure it’s as good as they’re saying it is.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  make a comment

I heard someone say in a meeting the other day that she needed to “flush out” some creative concepts. Now, the old Aaron would’ve quickly denounced the woman’s seemingly lackadaisical approach to the Queen’s English, insisted that she commit to memory the difference between flush out and flesh out, then stood by and watched as she committed various acts of self-flagellation.

Instead, the new, improved Aaron (the one with far more patience and humility) turned to Paul Brians for a quick refresher:

To “flesh out” an idea is to give it substance, as a sculptor adds clay flesh to a skeletal armature. To “flush out” a criminal is to drive him or her out into the open. The latter term is derived from bird-hunting, in which one flushes out a covey of quail. If you are trying to develop something further, use “flesh”; but if you are trying to reveal something hitherto concealed, use “flush.”

So. Had the individual in question put together the structure of a concept and simply needed more time for further development? Or had she hit something of a creative roadblock, and was still searching for that one great idea? Her word choice suggests the latter, but I don’t think that’s what she meant.

The difference between flesh and flush is only a single letter—but, in this case anyway, it’s a pretty big difference.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: the writing life  |  make a comment

“Gratus animus est una virtus non solum maxima, sed etiam mater virtutum omnium reliquarum.” (Cicero, from Oratio Pro Cnæo Plancio, XXXIII.)

My Latin’s a little rusty, so I checked with CK. He tells me that what Cicero is essentially saying is that “a thankful heart is not only the greatest virtue, but the parent of all the other virtues.”

With that in mind, here’s something to be thankful for, from Neal Dewing:*

Cranberry Old-Fashioned

The Old-Fashioned is my standby cocktail. When I don’t know what I want to drink, it usually turns out I want an Old-Fashioned. It’s sweet, flavorful, and has bourbon in it. Can it possibly be improved? No, but it can certainly be tailored to an occasion. Many recipes call for muddled cherry and orange (n.b., purists eschew both), but this Thanksgiving version departs from that for an interesting and refreshing tipple. Enjoy it while watching the game, or use a round to short-circuit an argument by way of an impromptu toast. You’ll need:

•  8 fresh cranberries
•  1 strip of orange zest
•  2 tsp sugar
•  2–3 dashes Angostura bitters
•  2 oz of your favorite bourbon

In an Old-Fashioned glass, add sugar, cranberries, and orange zest. Saturate with a few dashes of the bitters. Add a splash of flat water and muddle until the sugar is entirely dissolved. There may be some grit in the glass, but as with the example of your family my suggestion is to live with it. Add your bourbon. Fill your glass with ice.

I wouldn’t use too fine a bourbon for this, but if you determine that you need an extra bit of assistance coping with all the togetherness and love you might try a slug of Booker’s, a cask-strength 128-proof.

Those familiar with the common version of the drink will note the use of orange zest instead of a slice of fruit. This imparts subtle citrus flavor but does not add sweetness or liquid to the mix. Zesting can be a chore, but in this case it is well worth it.

The cranberries impart a vivid red color to the drink, quite unlike the standard. They also give the cocktail a surprisingly mild tartness, much less of a bite than I expected. Less sugar might give it a sharpness of tongue to complement the most disapproving of clan matriarchs.

Add ice, to your taste—a single large chunk is best, as the more diluted this drink becomes the less enjoyable it will be. I don’t usually let them sit long enough for this to be a factor.

Thanksgiving is the one day of the year when we take the time to remind ourselves of the many reasons we have to be grateful. If you’re anything like me, at some point during the dinner you’ll look around at all the people gathered there with you—even the difficult ones—and send up quiet thanks for the privilege we have to love, and be loved.

*I extracted this from a longer article published back in 2013. Neal’s political writing will likely alienate a sizable chunk of tyblography’s audience, so I’m sparing y’all some discomfort. If you’d like to read the entire thing, it’s here. Otherwise, just enjoy a mighty fine cocktail.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  make a comment

The Center for Public Integrity released the results of its 2015 State Integrity Investigation, which uses “extensive research to grade the states based on the laws and systems they have in place to deter corruption.” What they found isn’t pretty.

It’s not all bad, I suppose: our fair state ranked 12th. But then again, we only managed to score a D+.

“The comprehensive probe,” writes Nicholas Kusnetz in a related story, “found that in state after state, open records laws are laced with exemptions and part-time legislators and agency officials engage in glaring conflicts of interests and cozy relationships with lobbyists. Meanwhile, feckless, understaffed watchdogs struggle to enforce laws as porous as honeycombs.”

Think your particular brand of politics is immune from such fecklessness? You’ll search in vain for evidence that one side or the other is a better exemplar of good governance. Which can only mean that all politicians are terrible people. Q.E.D.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  make a comment

Here at helveticka world headquarters, there are two types of people. First, there are the younguns, to whom any new technology/paradigm/idea is inherently good and noble, holding the promise of untold benefits and opportunities and yielding a near endless supply of rainbows and unicorns. Then there are the rest of us, to whom life has been cruel and merciless.

Though I’m in the latter group (and thus an object of scorn, derision, and mockery to Courtney and Morgan), I have to say that this story gives me—dare I say—hope for the future. It’s good to live in the 21st Century.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  make a comment

From Clear and Simple as the Truth, by Francis-Noël Thomas and Mark Turner:

The teaching of writing in America is almost entirely controlled by the view that teaching writing is teaching verbal skills—from the placing of commas to the ordering of paragraphs. This has generated a tremendous industry, but the effect of this teaching is dubious. Why is American prose as bad as it is, even though we have more writing programs than ever?

Our answer is that writing is an intellectual activity, not a bundle of skills. Writing proceeds from thinking. To achieve good prose styles, writers must work through intellectual issues, not merely acquire mechanical techniques.…

It’s a great reminder. Good grammar is about learning and mastering rules; good writing, on the other hand, is a whole nother thing altogether.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: the writing life  |  make a comment

There’s something exciting about working inside a big, industrial manufacturing facility like Metals Fab. Huge I-beams moving about, lots of welding masks with sparks flying nearby, the sounds of steel being punched and bent, cranes moving overhead, and radios blaring everywhere—each tuned to a different station—while the smell of spent welding rods hangs in the air. You’ve gotta love the rich patina, textures, and sheer scale of this place. A visual delight everywhere you turn.

Teaming up with the production house ILF Media, we recently completed shooting for Metals Fab’s upcoming 50th anniversary video. Founded in 1966, the company has grown from one man working in his garage to 145 talented employees operating inside 122,000 square feet of production space on 23 acres. That’s some serious growth, man.

posted by: CK Anderson  |  category: on location the design life  |  make a comment

What do you do for a living? It’s a pretty simple question—unless you work in the creative field. Trust me, even our closest friends and family members furrow their brows when we try to explain it. For his final contribution to our week-long celebration (we hit 1,000 blog posts on Monday, in case you’re late to the party), cartoonist David Rowles takes that idea a step further. Too far? Nah.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: the design life  |  make a comment