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#this is your brain on music
krispyweiss · 1 year
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Psychoanalyst Daniel Levitin Psychoanalyses Dark Side of the Moon on NPR
While limited use of psychedelics can, “in the context of spiritual growth and therapy,” be “positive,” herculean doses such as those taken by Syd Barrett are not.
“But sometimes the ego can dissolve and dissociate, and you become crazy,” neuroscientist and super-Pink Floyd fan Daniel Levitin told NPR’s Leyla Fadel in a discussion of the Dark Side of the Moon’s 50th anniversary, March 1, 2023.
“Syd was unreliable as a bandmate,” Levitin, author of “This is Your Brain on Music,” said.
“He missed gigs. He was paranoid. And on stage, he would sabotage the performances or not play at all. His bandmates tried to get him to a psychiatrist, but he wouldn’t go. And so they kicked him out in 1968.”
Five years later, the band released Dark Side, an album oozing with “themes of madness and alienation,” as Levitin puts it.
“We can’t know for sure which specific lyrics were about Barrett, as opposed, more generally, to mental anguish,” he said. “But listen, the very first thing you hear on the record is that haunting heartbeat and some machine sounds and voices. And I always imagined it as a mental hospital.”
Five decades on, Levitin says Dark Side of the Moon is “a cultural touchstone” - something highly personal to Pink Floyd that’s become universal.
“That final lyric where ‘the sun is eclipsed by the moon - maybe it’s a metaphor,’” he says. “Syd was the sun of the band, the brightest spot. And (Roger) Waters was the moon and overtook him.”
3/2/23
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princelysome · 6 months
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An excellent book. Learn about the neurological events that are going on in your head when you listen to your favorite tunes and find out how they probably became your favorite tunes in the first place.
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hatie · 2 years
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andoutofharm · 9 days
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the way patrick talks about the way pete thinks is so beautiful
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ur-average-farp · 9 months
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me: *trying to focus* my trash brain: freeze your braaaaaaiiiiinnn- in zE HAUS OF HOLBEIN JA- rich set a fire and he burned down the house! WoAhOhOH- southern motherf*ckin' democratic republicans!- on the steps of the palaaaaaaace- if i stop smoking crack CRACK???- the wizard and iiiiiiii- all you gotta do is say my name I dOn't KNoW yoUr NaMe- paciencia y feeeeeee me: why
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skizabaa · 9 months
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I'm crying. I'm glad you made the Furby fren. ;w;
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Of course!! They are the best of friends <3
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can-a-tuna-fish · 3 months
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Ongoing idea that the squip can’t control Jeremy while they’re sleeping, so like a week after blocking Michael they start getting dreams about like holding his hand, and they wake up like this every single time.
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condemnhim · 8 months
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Tally Hall fans when they're sentenced to the electric chair (it's a tally hall reference)
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commsroom · 1 year
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making hera manage a space station is inhumane. she's supposed to be creating unmarketable art. post-canon hera makes like fifteen dollars a month off niche experimental multimedia poetry zines, eiffel is begging people to listen to his music on bandcamp (between an assortment of jobs that would be perfectly fine, if he could hold any of them for longer than two months), and they are both so, so lucky minkowski cares about them so much.
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merakiui · 5 months
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breaking news: my third eye is open again and i'm falling for lilia and his charms.
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hatie · 2 years
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There were reports a few years ago that prior to becoming used to the music of a foreign (to us) culture, all infants prefer Western music to other musics, regardless of their culture or race. These findings were not corroborated, but rather, it was found that infants do show a preference for consonance over dissonance. Appreciating dissonance comes later in life, and people differ in how much dissonance they can tolerate.There is probably a neural basis for this. Consonant intervals and dissonant intervals are processed via separate mechanisms in the auditory cortex. Recent results from studying the electrophysiological responses of humans and monkeys to sensory dissonance (that is, chords that sound dissonant by virtue of their frequency ratios, not due to any harmonic or musical context) show that neurons in the primary auditory cortex—the first level of cortical processing for sound—synchronize their firing rates during dissonant chords, but not during consonant chords. Why that would create a preference for consonance is not yet clear.
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uppastthejelliclemoon · 8 months
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people just hate fun ig
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Thinking about season 4 and Vecna and how it makes no sense. I'm just baffled thinkin' about it and wanna vent a lil.
Why did he make it a ritual? He didn't have to do that. There was no reason he had to torment people with visions for a week other than... what? so we can see he enjoys tormenting others? We got that message when we learned he wanted to murder his entire family for no reason.
Stranger Things is sci-fi for its genre, not fantasy. He wasn't like, actually casting a spell that he needed to follow an exact ritual for to make it happen, or even having a fear that deviating would make the spell go wrong. Because it's not a spell.... that could... go wrong. It's just Vecna being a wierdo.
When taking Max didn't work in the graveyard, why didn't he immediately take Patrick to keep his timeline? Why did he wait? And on that vain, why was it important to know when Eddie's watched died to see when Vecna takes vistims because... he tried to take Max at a different time then the others. It was board daylight in the middle of a cemetery. Why that deviation? What was the point of a schedule he was willing to break but only for Max?
Also, they gave us that scene of Vecna like... reading everyone's minds all rapid-like to show how easy all this was for Vecna. How did he not know about them coming to try and kill him? and if he did know, why didn't he just... do it an hour sooner so he'd be done before they ever got to him? Why not send all the demobats while they were using power tools to fortify the trailer?
It's silly to think Vecna wouldn't spy on them again after he gave Nancy that message. That he wouldn't be using them to try and find Eleven. Dude hass got So Much Free Time. The cursing takes like, what, 20 minutes outta his day??? What's he doing with the rest of his 23 hours and 40 minutes?
Vecna was a shit villain who could have been terrifying, and the show falls flat on that.
Imagine how much for horrifying it would be to try and make a plan you can't actually plan because the enemy will know what you've planned if you actually plan it? Imagine the stress added if everyone is trying to constantly think of other things so Vecna can't gleam any information for them.
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little-bumblebeeee · 8 months
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I'm sorry but I NEEEEED someone in real life to say "I didn't catch your name" so I can say "I didn't throw it" BECAUSE THAT LINE HAS BEEN IN MY BRAIN FOR YEARS
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milf-harrington · 1 year
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inspired by @flashyysins
Two days after Hawkins was almost split open, Robin saw a woman pacing in the hospital waiting room.
There were plenty of other people as well, sitting or standing or walking the length of the room in a similar pattern, but there was something about the woman that Robin noticed. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, which she was- it's that there was something familiar about her.
She was in blue jeans and an old-school Hawkins High Letterman jacket, light brown hair twisted up in a claw clip. Robin had never met her before, she'd remember that at the very least, but still.
Something about the angle of her nose or the gentle waves of her hair felt like something Robin had seen before, something she'd be able to find in a crowded room or across a street.
But Robin had somewhere to be, so she shook off the odd feeling, and followed the familiar path to Steve's room.
---
"Hey Stevie."
Steve's smile was tired, but he was looking more lively than when he'd passed out in the waiting room the other day, so she'd take it.
"Robbie, you left me hanging yesterday."
She snorted and dropped into one of the chairs by his bed, swinging her legs over the arm rest and cradling the bag she'd brought with her in her lap. "You're the one who fell asleep during visiting hours."
He rolled his eyes, and she happily noted the colour returning to his skin. "You should be exempt from visiting hours, you're like...essential to my recovery or something."
She laughed to hide the way those words curled soft and warm around her heart, eyes stinging until she blinked it away. The dumbass had almost over-worked himself to the point of no recovery. "'Exempt?' Someone's been reading a dictionary- did one of your children leave theirs behind?"
"Oh fuck you-"
They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Robin was startled to see the woman from the waiting room hovering behind a nurse.
"You have a new visitor Mr Harrington."
Even knee-deep in confused intrigue, Robin couldn't help but dramatically mouth Mr Harrington over her own shoulder, pleased at the face he pulled in retaliation.
And then the door shut, and Steve looked up to find the woman-from-the-waiting room standing at the end of the bed.
Robin saw his brain grind to a halt at the sight of her.
It was silent (well, as much as it could be in a hospital room, what with all the beeping and whirring) as they took each other in, and Robin slowly brought her knees in closer to her chest like it would shield her from the vague awkwardness chewing at her.
And then-
"Fucking hell, Eve." The woman breathed out, white knuckling the bar at the end of his bed.
At the same time, Steve's face scrunched up as he demanded: "What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean 'what am I doing here'? You're in hospital!"
"I thought you were in New York!"
"Yeah and then I got a call from Hawkins General that my little brother was dying in a hospital bed! Thank you for keeping me as your emergency contact, by the way."
"Well-" Steve spluttered and then crossed his arms over his chest, wincing at the pressure on his injuries. "Obviously."
Several things clicked into place like undone locks. Steve had almost been too comfortable about "feminine" topics for as long as she'd been an active member of his life- and even slightly before.
(He'd once run out of Scoops to buy her pads when she'd started her period in the middle of a shift. At the time she'd figured he was just trying really hard to beat the still a douche-bag allegations.)
Then there were the sweaters that he wouldn't confess to the origin of, the jokes he'd make about Robin "not being the only woman in his life" that she'd thought were about Nancy Wheeler, the vehement denial that the rom-com collection in the theatre room were his.
And, while Robin hated to enforce gender stereotypes, he'd always had the kind of mean girl cattiness that was usually only forged in teenaged girls and merely rubbed off on others.
Of course Steve Harrington had a sister.
Now Robin understood why she'd seemed so familiar in the waiting room.
"What happened to you?"
Simultaneously, Robin and Steve shifted uncomfortably, meeting each others eyes and coming up blank on both ends.
Steve's sister swallowed, jaw clenched and lip quivering as she look back and forth between them. She seemed suddenly fragile, like Steve after a nightmare, or right before he'd collapsed in the waiting room after carrying Eddie inside.
Steve cracked first. "Lou-"
"Don't fucking lie to me, Stephen. This is the third time you've ended up in hospital since your senior year."
Steve blinked, startled. "How did you-"
"I'm your sister." She seethed, and Robin could see flickers of Steve with an axe in his hand in the arch of her shoulders. "You might have told the hospital not to call but I still have friends in this town. If that Hargrove asshole wasn't already dead-"
"Lou-"
"Don't-"
"It was a serial killer." Robin blurted, drawing Steve's sisters' attention to her. "I don't now if you heard about it, but someone was going around killing teenagers. It started with Chrissy Cunningham- she was a cheerleader? kind of cute in a preppy sort of way, but, um- she was killed in our friends living room and then he sort of got blamed for it because, I mean, it was pretty sketchy but he didn't do it! I promise, Eddie didn't- anyway, there was this whole witch hunt, and two more people died which just sort of made it worse for Eddie and a group of us were trying to, like, clear his name, you know? Because we knew he didn't do it and we didn't want him to get killed next, but then one of our other friends - this girl, Max, she's a riot - she was being targeted by the real killer so we came up with this...really stupid plan to catch the killer but everything went sort of tits up and Eddie and Steve both got, well-" She waved her hands at the bandage around Steve's throat and the bruising around his wrists from the vines. "And Max, she broke her elbow and her knee when she fell, and I think Dustin twisted his ankle? So now Max and Eddie and Steve are all in hospital and Dustin has these crutches that he doesn't want to use but, I mean, Steve always makes him because it's Steve, and we don't really know if Eddie's okay yet but no one's come to tell us he's not so we're still hopeful-"
"Robin."
Robin shut her mouth, and took a deep breath through her nose. Steve's sister was staring at her in the startled sort of awe that Robin was used to seeing when she got going. She had the lungs of a trumpet player, it wasn't hard for her to talk until she forgot where she'd started.
"You fought a serial killer?" Steve's sister - Lou? - asked, and Robin hysterically felt like she should offer up her seat.
Steve, bless him, only nodded. Lou stared, lips pressed into a thin line and nostrils flared slightly.
And then, quite abruptly, she was straightening her back and stepping around the bed to hold out a hand to Robin. "Louisa Harrington."
Robin blinked, and shook her hand. "Robin Buckley."
Louisa nodded, like that made sense, and smiled the same cupids-bow smile as her brother. "The best friend- it's good to meet the other half of my brothers brain. Clearly the better half, considering you aren't the one in the hospital bed."
Steve made an offended noise, and Robin grinned.
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