Recently I was trying to distinguish what it really was that made me dislike, or in very few cases, like a song. I think I have made my self believe it is the talent of the songwriter or performer, yet I have come to realize this isn't the case. So many times, the best songs I hear are shown to me by my brother, Bradley Turner, yet I hardly ever like them right away. It seems that once I sit down, listen to the lyrics and the incorporation of the music, and take in what the work of art truly is, I withdraw my previous belief and -- well -- like the song! So then, what is it which so covertly takes my mind and changes its whole perception on what music I find to my liking. It's not my initial feeling, because it almost never stay intact, and it's not whether the artist is "talented", because there are plenty of talented artist who produce songs which disgust me!
While I was listening to one of my favorite songs, "Letters from the Sky" by Civil Twilight, I noticed something that caught my attention. The song is full of love. It really is that simple. It's not the chord structure, for I am far from that musically inclined; it's not the artist, because I can enjoy songs regardless of who produced it; and frankly, it's not the instruments used. It's just simply love. Let's take into account that their are plenty of songs with lovely lyrics that I cannot stand due to the lucid fact that the music is terrible. Yet, in essence, it is love that separates my favorites from the ones I simply enjoy.
One of my favorites:
"That you and I were made for this
I was made to taste your kiss
We were made to never fall away
Never fall away
"
One of my least favorites:
"Take a bite of my bad girl meat (bad girl meat)
Take a bit of me boy
Show me your teeth
The truth is sexy
"
The first song is simply love and nothing less. While this lyric may seem a little obscure due to its "stalkerish-like" tone, its beautiful and from the heart. The second lyric; however, is lust and nothing else. I mean REALLY Lady Gaga, "take a bite of my bad girl meat". It makes me gag and smirk at the same time. (If that is possible)Let it be known, I don't think the lyrics to any of her songs are truly from the heart, but are merely money signs written onto a black sheet of paper. The over all point is, music just is not attractive without its key essential. Writing music without love is like watching "twilight" and not owning 20 cats. It just doesn't fit right.
The secret to writing great music -- besides the necessary skill:
"All you need is love"
My Radio Station!
Okay, so I was bored enough to actually start my own internet radio station. The crazy thing is, it was a complete success. After only two episodes, we have had 30 plays! I am stoked. It is super fun to do and I am proud to provide people with decent music. Do me a HUGE favor and check it out!
School and well,.....more school
Much to the sadness of many women who read my writing on this blog, I have to say: It has been awhile since my last post. So, I decided that it was probably about time for a new one. I am in the mood for one during seventh period; however, this is surprising with just having received an ear-full from my latest English teacher “Miss Morgan”. Turns out, teacher’s pep talks are never really “peppy”, in fact, they usually leave you down and feeling sort of drowsy. This being said, I did receive a complement two days in a row! That is a first! Usually it is, “Don’t do what Bailey Turner does..” but yesterday after golf practice it was my coach saying, “do what Bailey Turner does..”. As surprising as it may seem, I do not receive such outstanding rants of “brag” everyday. In fact, I cannot tell you the last time I did! Then today, as Miss Morgan, less formerly known as Brandi Morgan, during a tongue lashing about my behavior in class, commented on my personality. (I guess you could call it a compliment).However it was meant, I took it as one! So, I guess you could say I am in a pretty good mood right now. Good Afternoon everyone, and enjoy your weekend.
B.D. Turner
B.D. Turner
A few short stories...
Listed here are a few short stories I wrote a good time back. I featured them in my past blog and they were well liked. On that thought, here they are...
"Death as it approaches"
I sit in complete silence. Not a sound is heard. I try to talk but, my voice is not audible; may it be my ears or my mouth? I can feel the ground under me: cold, rigid, yet soft. Oh how it compels me to continue and not to quit. I strive to break free, but without success. Yet, my journey seems possible for I am under binding, a light binding. Only the my bare feet feel the earth; my body is bound with a substance I can not feel. Or does it exist? For I feel nothing but a pressure of air against my chest. Ah, it is not pain but an irritable sensation to break free that drives me. I need a push, a push of something greater to drive me through the binding. I can feel my life leaving me with every breath I take. As little children, skipping away to freedom not looking back. I try to hold every breath in, as if my attempts at breathing are my wounding shots. Air! Air! I need air! It leaves me quickly! Laughing as it runs away in mockery. No longer may I breathe! For my breath had run to its hiding place. Where am I and what have I done to deserve this? My heart beats quickly! thump....thump... it punches against my feeble chest, yelling for me to breathe! I am unable! I can practically see my demise. Closer it comes.... closer....closer now...almost there...only to fade away quickly. For my loved one rolled me over. In love hath I learned, to never rest with my face in my pillow.
"Autophobia"
a letter to myself
Is it me? Or is it myself? Two beings in one, yet nearly of a complete opposite. As I sit, thinking to me, "what have I done?" I am crowded with thoughts of destruction and pure evil. Yet, when I think to myself, it's a thought of life and rebuilding. "Why?" one may ask. The answer still lies in my mind's own confusion. For how can a self be divided among two seperate parts, though they lie in the same being? So for me, I follow the commander of the power that controls the unseen world. Yet myself, I follow the power of the air and of the seen world. A splitting comparison that forms a belief among others. For I am merely a puppet, driven and pulled by a force greater than me, and all I can do is pull on each force that is greater than I. For my force is weak and meaningless, and puts no pressure on the forces of others, but myself's force on the other hand, is strong and powerful with a greater intention. So am I right, or am I wrong? I am told I am neither, for what others do seem to be my following. I have not a mind of my own, for my mind is controlled by what is popular. So am I my own enemy? Or is thine enemy the fault of others influencing my every step? So let me be an example to all of man kind. Wether death or life be the path, my fault shall be shown, and all of man will see my mistakes, and learn from me. Let me stand on a pedastool of shame, with all eyes looking down to me from higher above. For what I have done has wronged me, and they must know the mistake of me. For this is my desire. That others who follow the steps of their surroundings, and run on a single authoritative mind, may see myself, standing in complete embarresment. I have done what I was commanded, that is, if I learn from myself's own mistakes, and others learn from thine.
"Death as it approaches"
I sit in complete silence. Not a sound is heard. I try to talk but, my voice is not audible; may it be my ears or my mouth? I can feel the ground under me: cold, rigid, yet soft. Oh how it compels me to continue and not to quit. I strive to break free, but without success. Yet, my journey seems possible for I am under binding, a light binding. Only the my bare feet feel the earth; my body is bound with a substance I can not feel. Or does it exist? For I feel nothing but a pressure of air against my chest. Ah, it is not pain but an irritable sensation to break free that drives me. I need a push, a push of something greater to drive me through the binding. I can feel my life leaving me with every breath I take. As little children, skipping away to freedom not looking back. I try to hold every breath in, as if my attempts at breathing are my wounding shots. Air! Air! I need air! It leaves me quickly! Laughing as it runs away in mockery. No longer may I breathe! For my breath had run to its hiding place. Where am I and what have I done to deserve this? My heart beats quickly! thump....thump... it punches against my feeble chest, yelling for me to breathe! I am unable! I can practically see my demise. Closer it comes.... closer....closer now...almost there...only to fade away quickly. For my loved one rolled me over. In love hath I learned, to never rest with my face in my pillow.
"Autophobia"
a letter to myself
Is it me? Or is it myself? Two beings in one, yet nearly of a complete opposite. As I sit, thinking to me, "what have I done?" I am crowded with thoughts of destruction and pure evil. Yet, when I think to myself, it's a thought of life and rebuilding. "Why?" one may ask. The answer still lies in my mind's own confusion. For how can a self be divided among two seperate parts, though they lie in the same being? So for me, I follow the commander of the power that controls the unseen world. Yet myself, I follow the power of the air and of the seen world. A splitting comparison that forms a belief among others. For I am merely a puppet, driven and pulled by a force greater than me, and all I can do is pull on each force that is greater than I. For my force is weak and meaningless, and puts no pressure on the forces of others, but myself's force on the other hand, is strong and powerful with a greater intention. So am I right, or am I wrong? I am told I am neither, for what others do seem to be my following. I have not a mind of my own, for my mind is controlled by what is popular. So am I my own enemy? Or is thine enemy the fault of others influencing my every step? So let me be an example to all of man kind. Wether death or life be the path, my fault shall be shown, and all of man will see my mistakes, and learn from me. Let me stand on a pedastool of shame, with all eyes looking down to me from higher above. For what I have done has wronged me, and they must know the mistake of me. For this is my desire. That others who follow the steps of their surroundings, and run on a single authoritative mind, may see myself, standing in complete embarresment. I have done what I was commanded, that is, if I learn from myself's own mistakes, and others learn from thine.
Deuteronomy 23:1
"If a man's testicles are crushed or his penis is cut off, he may not be admitted to the assembly of the LORD." Deuteronomy 23:1
While the theatrical slapstick kick in the groin evokes wild laughter in the unrefined audience, any serious discussion of the actual defect, reduction or removal of male sexual organs for any cause is prohibitively uncomfortable for many, including some physicians. So, Why did I post this? Well, mostly because it is absolutely hilarious. And, secondly because it is one of the most misinterpreted verses in the Bible. You see, people read this and automatically assume it means men who were born with deformities or had an "accident" (a terrible one, I may add) will not be admitted to heaven. Yet, you have to understand it's location in the Bible to fully understand its meaning. Certain men who were captured and put into slavery, commonly referred to as a "eunuch" in the old testament, were emasculated in order to fulfill a certain task. This men would watch the harem of the king. And since these men no longer had their "equipment", they had no way of messing around with the king"s women. These men, all though not the luckiest menones, held a respectable position. Many men wanted to get this job, as shocking as it seems, and they went as far as removing their own male organs in order to be in position to watch the harem. Radical Christians like to use this verse to accuse hermaphrodites, or those who have underwent sexual recunstruction surgery, of eternal damnation. I disagree. So, what is your take on this verse?
While the theatrical slapstick kick in the groin evokes wild laughter in the unrefined audience, any serious discussion of the actual defect, reduction or removal of male sexual organs for any cause is prohibitively uncomfortable for many, including some physicians. So, Why did I post this? Well, mostly because it is absolutely hilarious. And, secondly because it is one of the most misinterpreted verses in the Bible. You see, people read this and automatically assume it means men who were born with deformities or had an "accident" (a terrible one, I may add) will not be admitted to heaven. Yet, you have to understand it's location in the Bible to fully understand its meaning. Certain men who were captured and put into slavery, commonly referred to as a "eunuch" in the old testament, were emasculated in order to fulfill a certain task. This men would watch the harem of the king. And since these men no longer had their "equipment", they had no way of messing around with the king"s women. These men, all though not the luckiest menones, held a respectable position. Many men wanted to get this job, as shocking as it seems, and they went as far as removing their own male organs in order to be in position to watch the harem. Radical Christians like to use this verse to accuse hermaphrodites, or those who have underwent sexual recunstruction surgery, of eternal damnation. I disagree. So, what is your take on this verse?
Hello, world.
A few months ago, I had a thought. Not just a thought, but a premonition. I get these useful thoughts in my head. (One out of every ten, anyways). So, I thought, what if I was to post them for people to see. I know the other nine that come to no valuable use may be of some assistance to humor one's self, but just maybe one out of every ten will change a life. All though, this is indeed very unlikely. So I will try to tell you a little of my self without using the word "thought" any longer. For some reason, it seems to have appeared several times previously.
I am Bailey D. Turner from the boring city of Mobile, Alabama. As much as I miss my birth place of Fort Meyers, Florida, it does not take much for me to realize where I would be with out this move. I have gained the coolest friends a person could meet, and I have experienced things most others will not. Okay, so enough with the sad sob story.
My life tends to be divided among two very interesting topics: music and the watching of sports. I say watching, because alone from golf, I lack the necessary athletic ability to play any of these. I am consumed in College football, NBA, NFL, and by far my favorite, The Major League baseball association. Yet, there is still this small percent of my life, as petite as it may be, that loves to write. So as you can see, I am divided among a wide range of people. A sport loving, musician blogger if you will. I would love to meet you, whoever you are. So do not be afraid to "drop a line" as the happening kids would say.
I'll leave you with that. And to the 3 people who will ever read this, enjoy! And, I love you mom!
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