What, unless biological science is a mass of errors, is the cause of human intelligence and vigour? Hardship and freedom: conditions under which the active, strong, and subtle survive and the weaker go to the wall; conditions that put a premium upon the loyal alliance of capable men, upon self-restraint, patience, and decision. And the institution of the family, and the emotions that arise therein, the fierce jealousy, the tenderness for offspring, parental self-devotion, all found their justification and support in the imminent dangers of the young. Now, where are these imminent dangers? There is a sentiment arising, and it will grow, against connubial jealousy, against fierce maternity, against passion of all sorts; unnecessary things now, and things that make us uncomfortable, savage survivals, discords in a refined and pleasant life.

H.G. Wells, The Time Machine

Kepler – “The Changing Light At Sandover”
Fuck Fight Fail

While their follow-up to this album, Missionless Days, is a quiet masterpiece, this one is far more ambitious and their sound expansive enough on it to rival Mogwai and Explosions In The Sky. But somehow it remains intimate. Past the first couple minutes of crashing intro, this is a remarkably delicate song. The same can be said for the other long track on this album, “Upper Canada Fight Song,” which has an even more Mogwai-esque closer. (insound)

Their targets in a tortoise cast, the foes,
Secure advancing, to the turrets rose:
Some mount the scaling ladders; some, more bold,
Swerve upwards, and by posts and pillars hold;
Their left hand grips their bucklers in th’ ascent,
While with their right they seize the battlement.
From their demolish’d tow’rs the Trojans throw
Huge heaps of stones, that, falling, crush the foe;
And heavy beams and rafters from the sides
(Such arms their last necessity provides)
And gilded roofs, come tumbling from on high,
The marks of state and ancient royalty.

Dryden’s Æneid

He was the Kind of Fellow who would see a Girl twice, and then, upon meeting her the Third Time, he would go up and straighten her Cravat for her, and call her by her First Name.

George Ade, Fables In Slang

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Macha – “Calming Passengers”
Forget Tomorrow

The synth-rock Macha creates is usually poppy and forgettable (not in a bad way), but they occasionally exhibit just a fantastic ear for sound. The ripples constituting the waves of sound lapping along in this song are superbly matched, and the overall rhythm, while not dancey, is difficult not be become caught up in.

But men labor under a mistake. The better part of the man is soon plowed into the soil for compost. By a seeming fate, commonly called necessity, they are employed, as it says in an old book, laying up treasures which moth and rust will corrupt and thieves break through and steal. It is a fool’s life, as they will find when they get to the end of it, if not before. It is said that Deucalion and Pyrrha created men by throwing stones over their heads behind them:

   Inde genus durum sumus, experiensque laborum,
   Et documenta damus qua simus origine nati.

Or, as Raleigh rhymes it in his sonorous way,

   "From thence our kind hard-hearted is, enduring pain and care,
   Approving that our bodies of a stony nature are.“

So much for a blind obedience to a blundering oracle, throwing the stones over their heads behind them, and not seeing where they fell.

Thoreau, Walden