Your eyes and your brain can play tricks on you. The mind's eye can be easily tricked into imagining lines or images where they don't really exist. Hence we have optical illusions (also known as visual illusions) that are characterized by visually perceived images that are deceptive or misleading like the one on the left which can be either two faces or a candle holder depending on how you chose to visualize it.This AMOEBLOG includes various optical illusions for you to take a look at and observe their altered images as the information is gathered by your eye and processed by your brain to give you a percept that does not tally with a physical measurement of the stimulus source. You follow?
Anyways - according to the experts in these matters there are basically two main types of illusions. There are the physiological illusions that are the effects on the eyes and brain of excessive stimulation of a specific type - brightness, tilt, color, or movement. And then there are cognitive illusions where the eye and brain make unconscious inferences. That is why you may see something in an image that the person standing right next to you doesn't comprehend equally.
couldn't get it out of my head ... like, for years. Seriously, waking in the night with just this one little moment of "From a Silver Phial" tinkering through my mind.
uction freaks me out. No Other was released in 1974, when it was all production -city all the time, unless you were Carly Simon or something, but let's not go there. The production work on this album is so layered, dense and, actually, perfect. There's wah wah guitar, backup singers, crazy piano licks. The best of L.A.'s session musicians were hired to play at the recording and they play the hell out of these songs, adding gravity to what was already great. The other thing that makes this album killer is that there is a theme and a thread that works its way through each of the songs and connects them, so as you listen closely to the album over and over again, it all becomes more and more clear and transporting.
If you are like most people odds are that your old cell phone or old phones are sitting gathering dust in a drawer or box at your home. 
So what do we do? How and where do we get rid of our e-waste? For starters, environmentalists suggest, try not to keep buying new electronic items when you really don't need them. And then when you are finished with them, dispose of them immediately and correctly. 
that make it impossible to travel across town - much less across the bay. I mean, damn, maybe if we had something more like the Paris Metro instead of the wallet-breaking Bart (see 
then meant pure magic like Gladys Knight & The Pips. But it was my brothers' voluminous collection of vinyl records that brought me above what was easily found on the radios. Lest I forget, I am eternally grateful to my beautiful sister Jill who introduced me to the B-52's when I was 11, and my brother Scott who brou
Thanks to reading the resourceful 
There was one song I wanted to like. It was Thomas Dolby’s She Blinded Me With Science. The video was so goofy I was embarrassed to like it, even though it was funky. A few days later I went to the park and all the breakers were pop locking it to it. I figured if they liked it, it wasn’t so bad. My sister had the first Thomas Dolby record and I started to listen to it more than her. Outside of the annoying song, Europa, I liked it. Still, I kept in the closet about my love for the TB, except for a few friends.
When the second Thomas Dolby album, The Flat Earth came out, I bought it right away. I didn’t like the single, Hyperactive. It sounded like a weak attempt at The Talking Heads. The rest of the album was surprisingly chill and somewhat acoustic. It took me a bit off time to like this album, but at the end, I did. The song that hit me was Dolby’s cover of Dan Hick And His Hot Licks’ I Scare Myself. It was haunting with a slight Jazzy Brazilian feel to it. I soon went on the hunt to find the original version. When I found it I noticed that it was very different. Dolby’s version was haunting, yet calm and melodic. Dan Hicks original version sounded frantic and straight up paranoid, thus validating the title. It was a little too much for me to take at the time. Still, there was something about it that I liked. 
While Latin music artists based in metropolitan cities such as Miami, Buenos Aires, and Mexico D.F. get all the press, it is the Regional Mexican groups are the ones that actually sell records. Case in point, Ramon Ayala. For over 40 years, Ramon Ayala as known as “El Rey Del Acordeon” (The King Of The Accordion), has been selling out arenas in both Mexico and in the United States. He has over 105 releases, most of which sell in the 250,000 to 750,000 units. He’s been in thirteen movies and is a multiple Grammy winner. During his sold out show at The Gibson Theatre on Saturday, Ramon packed his two-hour set with hit after hit and had the crowd singing along to every song. Ramon played a few Los Relampagos Del Norte songs, a group he had in sixties with the late great Bajo Sexto guitarist & vocalist, Cornelio Reyna, before forming Ramon Ayala y Sus Bravos Del Norte in 1971.
weapon of Amber Webber and her super powerful voice. The sheer confidence of her vocals remind me of none other than Grace Slick at times. This gal won't b
ack down and she knows how to wail! (Yeah, I just quoted Wayne's World, so sue me.) I love how they trade off vocals during the songs. It just adds to the overall intensity of the sound. And it's intense, people, really.
as those who are trying to keep it alive. I think this new record cements that for me.
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Tomorrow (Saturday) at the 
Of course for Christmas I received the new 
live CD, but also interviews with Elliott's friends. His old friends. The ones who truly knew him and cared for him. Toward the end of his life, many of these friends either were left behind or had falling outs with Elliott. As a fan, when I heard about this at the time I was wondering what the heck was going on, thinking things must have gotten really bad. This book answers many questions. It's not exploitative though, it's merely friends talking about a complicated person they love, in good times and in bad.
Iif you go on 
It also made MangoFace247 an instant YouTube celebrity. His name was linked to Paris Hilton's and he was mentioned in gossip columns in papers like the New York Post. I recently caught up with the anonymous "Mango" (who likes to remain incognito but did say that he lives in LA and works in the music business, and also that he sells 
In fact I would bet money that at the beginning of human life on this earth - long long long before hip-hop was born in the Boogie Down Bronx that there were some cavemen in a circle (who couldn't even articulate words to communicate with one another) making music with their mouths - primitive beat-boxing. 
It was 1982. I was on a school bus with my classmates, coming back from a field trip. We went to one of those historical Spanish ranches that were built when California was still Mexico (or Aztlán, if you swing that way). I was in a haze, staring out the window when my classmate, Krystal, yells out to me, “Hey, have you heard the new Prince yet?” She threw me her cassette Walkman and I pressed play. 
A few weeks later, my cousin Diana had a party in Buena Park. She had a pretty big record collection. I managed to ignore all the other records and went straight to 1999. As soon as the needle hit the wax, Diana’s boyfriend, Larry, was like, “Aw hell no, Prince again?’ At that moment I remember hating Larry. Like most kids I held every discovery sacred and I thought I knew more than everyone. Larry looked at me like he knew what I was thinking. “You want to hear where Prince got all that from?’ He went to the record collection and pulled out Funkadelic’s One Nation Under A Groove and Uncle Jam Wants You. He played each album consecutively, side a, side b, side a, side b. All those songs, Who Says A Funk Band Can't Play Rock?!, Cholly (Funk Gettin' Ready To Roll), One Nation Under A Groove, (Not Just) Knee Deep Pt.1, Freak Of The Week. I stood staring at the speakers, digesting every song, every note, every deep bass note, every keyboard bend, every guitar solo and vocal harmony. It was as I was trippin', way before I knew how that felt. 
Had his life being spared assassination on that tragic evening of April 4th 1968 in Memphis, TN when that fatal shot rang out - last Tuesday would have been Martin Luther King, Jr's 79th birthday. 
Since I just wrote about Live, I was inspired c
heck out another video from around the same time period I also remember loving: Jeff Buckley's "Last Goodbye."
Basically, when I think back, my enjoyment of Live taught me about musical obsession, about the intricacies and excitement that come along with absorbing one's self in a particular band. They weren't the first band I was acutely taken by, but they did hit me hard at the time, I have to say. I knew and analyzed every track on that album. I was intrigued by the energy and earnestness of the band. I learned about the transcendent quality of music, sitting in my bedroom with the sound pumping. At the time I thought Live were trying to uphold the values I held dear: connection, truth, and all that kind of thing. (Soooooo high school! And sooooooo serious!) I read every article I could find about them and sought out information about the authors and ideas they wrote about in their songs. Everything they did seemed so fraught with meaning.