Podcast, schmodcast. Mixmaster Marjorie and I sat around the kitchen last night with some beers and played songs for at each other. We had just finished listening to the new White Stripes album, which ends with a gospel-y number, so "gospel" was the original theme. But we ran out of that, fast, and so switched to "original and cover songs", where we'd play a bit of the original and then play the cover. The playlist:

I'm Lonely (But I'm Not That Lonely Yet) -- White Stripes

Paul McCartney -- That Day Is Done (I like Elvis's version better)

Love Is Stranger Than Death -- The The

Jesus Gonna Be Here -- Tom Waits

Smells Like Teen Spirit -- Nirvana/Tori Amos

Which Will -- Nick Drake/Lucinda Williams

Hounds of Love -- Kate Bush/Futureheads

David Watts -- The Kinks/The Jam

Hallelujah -- Leonard Cohen/Jeff Buckley

Redemption Song -- Bob Marley/Joe Strummer (Somehow we don't own the original. Who could cover this song, but Joe?)

La Vie En Rose -- Edith Piaf/Louis Armstrong

New Amsterdam -- Elvis Costello/Tasmin Archer

Sabbath Bloody Sabbath -- Black Sabbath/The Cardigans

Cactus -- The Pixies/David Bowie

Hang On To Your Ego -- Beach Boys/Frank Black

Ruby's Arms -- Tom Waits/Frente

Gimme Some Truth -- John Lennon/Sam Phillips

Winterlong -- Neil Young/The Pixies

IGY -- Steely Dan (Who snuck that in there?)

The Other End Of The Telescope -- 'Til Tuesday/Elvis Costello

Speeding Motorcycle -- Daniel Johnston with Yo La Tengo

Police On My Back -- The Clash

Things started to break up towards the end, but it was fun.

Weird things my brain does.

1. Lately I've had the annoying tendency to confuse words that start with the same letter. So, I tell people I work on LaTrobe Street instead of Lonsdale Street (the next one down). Or I order a Cappriociosa pizza instead of a Calabrese (and end up with a pizza with anchovies. Ick. We peeled some off and gave them to the dog, and she promptly threw up). I confuse characters in books whose names start with the same letter, too. My brain must just index things that way.

2. While at work, particularly when I'm programming, I have random flashbacks, once or twice a day. Just for no reason, suddenly I start thinking about being in the parking lot of particular mini-malls back in Orlando, or ordering particular meals in restaurants in Atlanta.

3. The other day I got up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water. As I was getting back into to bed, out of nowhere the name Gustave Flaubert pops into my head. Now, I've heard his name before, but I have no idea who he is (or I didn't until I just looked him up) and I hadn't heard his name lately, that I can think of.

Maybe I've been heading the ball too much in soccer.

At any rate, I've found a great new trick for training my brain. I'm starting a new project at work. It's a project that's been ongoing for a couple of years, and it's large and complex. I'm pretty much "drinking from the firehose" as they say, in the process of trying to assimilate it all. So, in the process of having things explained to me, I've decided to apply a method that Feynman espoused in one of his books. It's a simple principle, and it sounds obvious, but I don't think it's very widely applied, by anybody. Basically, what you do is to not let the person who's explaining things proceed until you are absolutely sure you understand the previous bit. Ask stupid questions, even if it's about something you probably should have known already and it makes you look bad. If you don't get it, make the person repeat things, even if they've just spent a half hour explaining it. Don't just let things proceed and hope that you'll get it through osmosis or something later on.

It works, and very well. My initial impression of this project is that it's pretty much the equivalent of a car that runs great but is maintained using silly putty, duct tape, and some very knowledgeable mechanics. It's my job to pretty much rein it in, or at least come up with some explanations as to why it requires such constant maintenance, so I have to pretty much get it all down cold. And to document everything, of course. Joy.