Yahoo Tuning Groups Ultimate Backup metatuning The ATL shows its hatred for creativity

Nothing stimulates the ATL to a frenzy of hatred like creativity.

As we have seen, members of the ATL have slithered out of the sewer
to scream insults at me, to indulge in frantic name-calling, to
tell every lie imaginable and unimaginable about me...all because
I am the single most creative person who came in contact with the ATL.

Not only have I produced more scholarship about microtonality
than any human living or dead, not only have I produced more
microtonal music than any human living or dead, not only is
my microtonal music by general consensus the best...but I've
gone farther. Together with Bill Wesley I've produced multimedia
DVDs with light shows done to microtonal music, light shows that
have inspired people to shout "I can't believe I'm seeing what
I'm seeing!" and "This is the most incredible thing I've ever
seen!" and "I feel like my eyeballs are going to pop out of my
head, this is living moving ART!!!"

The sheer raw loathing which my creativity engenders in the ATL
members can scarcely be described.

We see this clearly in the crazed lies Carl Lumma has told about
me.

Carl Lumma now finds himself reduced to utter helplessness,
chopping words and parsing sentences in a desperate attempt
to try to make his absurd lies sound credible -- but he can't
make his lies sound credible, they're far too outlandish.

It requires little effort and less intelligence to debunk
Carl Lumma's latest round of lies: I've supposedly alienated
myself from the San Diego microtonal community (he frantically
tries to play grammatical games with the past tense, but to
no avail) -- it's a lie any way you parse it, all lies, nothing
but lies; "everything mclaren says is wrong" Carl Lumma
announces, so foolishly that he imagine THAT lie will fly...and
then Lumma desperately tries to concoct some far-fetched reading
of his own words to try to make _that_ particular lie seem
believable -- but again, to no purpose, Carl Lumma is just
telling another lie, a complete lie, a total lie any way
you dissect the words...and now Carl Lumma hysterically
tries to explain away his own praise for my music with
yet more verbal calisthenics -- a futile effort.

Carl Lumma has been reduced to throwing any shit he can
dig up at me, in a desperate hope that some will stick.

We now see that Carl Lumma will stoop to any depths.
Carl Lumma will tell any lie, no matter how ridiculous,
no matter how insane, on the off chance that someone
is stupid enough to believe it. Carl Lumma has
squandered his humanity, pissed away his good name,
debased his conscience and irrevocably destroyed
his reputation...but he doesn't care. Just as long
as he can piss on me. That's enough for Carl.
Just as long as he can drag me down with him.

And why does Carl Lumma loathe me with such burning
intensity?

Because I create. And he doesn't.

I produce. And he can't.

I build something out of nothing, and all Carl Lumma
can do is tear down, destroy, defile, degrade, brutalize,
wreck, impale, debase.

And who else on the Alternative Lying List has told lie
after lied after lie after lie about me, hurled every
possible and impossible insult and sneer and jeer at
me, while himself producing nothing and creating nothing
and generating nothing?

Jonathan Szanto.

In Carl Lumma and Jonathan Szanto we see the _real_ nature
of the ATL.

These two poisonous creatures create nothing, produce
nothing, generate nothing of any significance. They have
brought no new beauty into the world. They do not compose.
They do not create. They only try to tear down and spit
upon and throw shit at those who compose.

They do not create art or light shows or microtonal music
or anything else that would bring joy and wonder into
peole's lives. The Jonathan Szantos and the Carl Lummas
of the world can only piss on the creative people of
this planet, they can only scream impotent insults at
them, they can only rip off their pants and dribble
verbal diarrhea on the faces of everyone who aspires to
excellence and crafts (with infinite pains) magnificence
out of chaos and entropy.

Notice that I do not include Gene Ward Smith in this
category. Whatever his faults, Gene Ward Smith has
found the courage to create. Gene Ward Smith has
taken the time and trouble to produce music, and
this is worthy of praise.

And so naturally Gene Ward Smith's act of creativity
stimulated Jonthan Szanto to a frenzy of hate. And
Jonathan Szanto found it necessary to hurl shit at
Gene Ward Smith, assuring us all that Gene Ward
Smith's music "...is like a root canal without
novocaine."

Well, I have heard Gene Ward Smith's music. And
Jonathan Szanto's claim is a lie. Not only is it
a lie, it is a damnable lie.

Jonathan Szanto and Carl Lumma...two peas in a pod.
Both driven by hate, both consumed by envy, both
brooding bitter human ciphers who only seem to come
to life when they hurl insults at composers...two
sterile and barren intellectual pygmies who have
produced nothing and created nothing and
generated nothing anyone cares about or would
choose to remember.

Sometimes people ask me why there are no more
Beethovens.

Well, I have an answer for them.

If you want to know why there are so few Beethovens,
the answer is staring you in the face: Carl Lumma.

If you want to know why there are so few Da Vincis,
the answer is sneering at you in person: Carl Lumma.

If you want to know why Conlon Nancarrow toiled for
decades alone in Mexico, unremarked, treated with
contempt and neglected, a living breathing answer
confronts you: Carl Lumma.

The Carl Lummas of the world are always ready with
a sneer. They ridicule anything anyone creates, they
spring into action the instant they see the slightest
scintilla of creativity, and they spit poison like king
cobras even at victims 20 meters distant.

The Carl Lummas of the world are only happy when
they sneer. "I could have done it better," a Carl
Lumma doubtless jeered when Bach finished Das
Wohltempiertes Klavier. "Everything he says is
wrong," a Carl Lumma surely whispered into
a duke's ear when Gibbon completed his Rise and
Fall of the Roman Empire. "It worthless slime,"
a Carl Lumma undoubtedly assured the pope who
commissioned each of Palestrina's masses.

Those who cannot do, teach...and those who
cannot even teach?

They malinger on the internet, spending infinite
amounts of their valueless free time hurling
shit at the people who DO create something
beautiful and noble and worthwhile -- all in
the desperate frantic hope of tearing down
others to fit their secret image of themselves.

When Carl Lumma thrashes and flails like
a wounded animal, spitting and snarling in
every direction at everyone who has tried to
create something worthwhile, a picture flashes
into my mind:

We have seen this rage and hatred and frenzy before.

We have seen Carl Lumma's kind of loathing for those who
build and create and aspire.

We have seen this kind of mindless detestation
in the glazed eyes of the fanatics who steered
757s toward the twins towers of the world trade
center, while screaming "Death! Death to the
infidel!!!"

We have seen the kind of hatred for life and beauty
and excellence embodied by Carl Lumma and Jonathan
Szanto -- we have seen it in the guttural howls of
Palestinian suicide bombers as they press the button
to blow themselves up in a crowded Israeli pizza
parlor.

The Palestinian suicide bombers have packed their
bombs with bent nails, broken glass, and rat poison --
to make sure the Israeli women and children who are
not immediately torn into hamburger die slowly,
screaming as they bleed to death.

And when the Palestinian suicide bombers detonate
the bombs around their chest, and small infants
are shredded and old men watch their arms and legs
being ripped off and pregnant women get impaled
on flying debris, we know what the last thought
of the demented suicide bomber is:

It's worth it.

It's worth it to destroy themselves if only they
can destroy someone else in the process.

The Israelis took the desert and made it bloom.
The Israelis created something out of nothing,
and the Palestinian suicide bombers who have
no lives and no aspirations and no concern for
life or human decency are _proud_ that they can
destroy themselves...if only they can destroy
_someone and something else_ in the process.

We see the same sadistic hate-filled loathing in
Carl Lumma and Jonathan Szanto, those two pathetic
excuses for human beings who have created nothing
and generated nothing and produced nothing of
any significance.

Twisted with insensate loathing, crippled and
tortured by envy of those who do create micrtonal
music, Jonathan Szanto and Carl Lumma howl insane
lies and destroy themselves by telling grotesque
untruths...and they are *proud* of what they do.
They think it's worth it to destroy their good
names and urinate on their own reputations...
if only they can destroy someone else in the
process.

Have you ever wondered why there is so little
good music and so little excellent art and
so little sublime literature in the world?

The answer stands before you.

Its name is Carl Lumma.

The Carl Lummas of the world have always been
with us. They have eagerly strangled the
superb music in its crib, they have worked
long and hard to degrade and brutalize the
artists who aspired to create beauty -- the
Carl Lummas of the world (who themselves
create nothing) have always been zealous
to extinguish sublime literature or
breathtaking plays, or, indeed, anything
that anyone has created out of nothing,
to bring joy and beauty into people's lives.

The Carl Lummas of the world live in
a cesspool of envy, tortured by their
loathing of those who produce what they
cannot.

The Jonathan Szantos of the world have
always coiled into knots of disgust,
tormented by their covetousness of the
creativity which they themselves abjure
and disdain.

And so these poor pathetic creatures
lash out, frantically trying to tear
down others to make themselves seem
big and important.

But the truth is that no one remembers the
Carl Lummas and the Jonathan Szantos of
the world. No one speaks their names, no
one cares about the lies they shrieked
or the poison that dribbled out of their
mouths in a vain attempt to smear ordure
on those who create.

Because the world belongs to people with
creativity.

The world as we know it was not built by
the Carl Lummas: it did not arise from
lies and hate and envy and insults. The
world as we know it came from the divine
spark of creativity that gave Shockley
the idea for the transistor and Da Vinci
the insipration for the Mona Lisa.

The world as we know it is the product of
the human imagintion, which Lumma and
Szanto hate and fear. The world as
we know it arises from the noblest
and most excellent things that have
been thought and said...not the infantile
shrieks of envy and rage of the Lummas
and Szantos.

Let them scream their hysterical lies.
Let the pathological liar Jonathan Szanto
howl the infamous lie that Gene Ward
Smith's music "...is like a root canal
without novocaine." Then let Szanto tell
the further lie that he was "not savagely
flaming" Gene Ward Smith when he told that
lie.

Let Jonathan Szanto tell lie after lie after
lie, and then tell the *further* lie that he
never told those lies... It avails him
naught. Gene Ward Smith deserves respect
for the mere act of creativity that inspires
him to create music, and everyone knows it.

The Carl Lummas and the Jonathan Szantos
of the world, and the warped twisted hate-
filled snakepit of an ATL they have built,
deserve nothing but to be reviled and forgotten
along with all the lies and the poison they
have spat, and which no one will remember
in even a few short years.

The microtonal musicians who, with infinite
pains, create beauty out of entropy, and
defeat death and chaos by teasing tensile
strands of melody out of silence, are those
who deserve our honor and our remembrance.
Let us then acknowledge their excellence,
and pay reverent homage to the courage
of those who create.
---------
--mclaren

Forwarded message:

Date: Sun, 18 Apr 2004 09:47:57 +0200
From: "Daniel Wolf" <djwolf1@...> Add to Address Book
To: alternativetuning@...
Subject: Re: [SpecMus] add to list?

Gabor:

I don't know if I should thank you or shoot you for forwarding that
message. It would be ironic if it wasn't so wrong. To single out Jon
Szanto and Carl Lumma for attack is really bizzare -- both have
always
been strong critics of a theory-heavy approach, and steady promoters
of
music that they like, regardless of whether that music has some
theoretical program behind it.

The real bad business here is trying to put down people for not being
composers. It's terribly unfair for a number of reasons. The first
is
simply that the new music community needs listeners and performers
far
more than we need composers -- of which we have plenty -- and the
opinions of listeners and performers must be an important part of the
discussion. The second is that while Jon, Carl & others (for example
Paul Erlich) have not composed much, this does not mean that the
little
they have composed is not worth a listen, nor does it mean that they
will never compose very much. Quantity is not a good measure of
compositional quality: Ockeghem, Ruggles, Varese all composed very
little, all brilliant; Clemens non Papa and Othmar Schoeck composed a
lot, none with much to redeem it. Further, this attack is made on
two
young people who have a lifetime ahead of them to make whatever
music they can. While some composers start as _Wunderkinder_ and
output music with approximately the same frequency that they output
excrement, other composers are late bloomers, with a need to know
everything about their corner of the musical universe before they
bring
a single note to the public ear. Mahler was a good example -- his
first
symphony was premiered at the age of 29, while the second had to wait
until he was 34, all the waiting years spent learning how the
orchestra
works. Or Harry Partch, whose first public works have the date of
his
29th year, but who needed to sit in the California State Library in
Sacramento and learn all he could about his chosen corner of the
musical
universe before really beginning a career as a composer. And early
composing in bulk can lead to serious burn out -- consider my
favorite, Rossini, who composed _Guillaume Tell_ at 39 and retired
for
a
long life of bed-rest, cooking, and a few (but wonderful) "sins of
old
age".

Online, Paul Erlich has a neat little study in 22-tet with a
not-too-inviting organ
timbre you will nevertheless find useful for getting into 22, the
voice leading is
clear and focused on features that might also be attractive to you.

Also, Carl Lumma had some curious little pieces that might be worth
investigating, somthing for retuned piano and some almost-Hindemithian
instrumentals. As to McLaren, I don't think he has anything online,
but you do have the cassette he sent me. Nice shakuhachi playing, but
the improvisation format and the synthesizer sounds are just boring.
(What do you think? I've got at least 200 hours of DATs with
improvisations in every variety of tunings, some with Lilla on
tarogato, others with Daniel Franke on 'ud and a dozen other
instruments, even one tape with Lou Harrison and Bill Colvig. Perhaps
I should burn them all to cd and call them compositions...).

Gabor, you've been hesistant about composing and showing your
sketches
or samples. Perhaps you'll make your millions in computing first
before
you sit down to compose, perhaps you'll never compose much, but it's
all
the same to me: you've been giving your ear some hard training,
exposing
yourself to a lot of repertoire, and your wide-ranging intellect has
located a few niches in the musical world where you might do some
useful
work. That's terrific.

All the best,

DJW

The ATL shows its hatred for creativity

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