NOTHING HERE IS

This tune was first performed by Mariah Carey in 1996 and performed by me here on my Yamaha PSR-SX900 arranger keyboard.

Can you "Name That Tune"? I have a website that contains my complete collection of tunes with their titles revealed at: www.harveytwyman.com

Name That Tune #527 by Mariah Carey

Eternal Optimist

Bandcamp : https://myckalmarcovic.bandcamp.com/track/cqfd
Spotify : https://open.spotify.com/intl-fr/album/2EkxuH0BZ5y7rMVi2MGmIT?si=58o1yWdiQs22jmvyBgF6sA
Translation above

Texte, musique et voix : Myckaël Marcovic
Lyrics, music and vocals : Myckaël Marcovic



CQFD
(chanson à récapitulation)

Pourquoi faut travailler ?
C’est la faute au pêcher
Qui s’ prend pour un pommier !
Si y avait pas eu d’pommier / Y aurait pas eu d’serpent
Si y avait pas eu d’serpent / Y aurait pas eu d’péché
CQ CQ CQFD CQFD

Mais pour tout démêler
Il suffit de penser
C’est la faute au verger !
Si y avait pas eu d’verger / Y aurait pas eu d’pommier
Si y avait pas eu d’pommier / Y aurait pas eu d’serpent
Si y avait pas eu d’serpent / Y aurait pas eu d’péché
CQ CQ CQFD CQFD

Mais Dieu, incorruptible,
Dit : « c’est inadmissible,
C’est la faute à la Bible ! »
Si y avait pas eu de Bible / Y aurait pas eu d’verger
Si y avait pas eu d’verger / Y aurait pas eu d’pommier
Si y avait pas eu d’pommier / Y aurait pas eu d’serpent
Si y avait pas eu d’serpent / Y aurait pas eu d’péché
CQ CQ CQFD CQFD

La Bible manuscrite
Sous l’encore qui s’agite
Dit : c’est la faute au scribe !
Si y avait pas eu de scribe / Y aurait pas eu de Bible
Si y avait pas eu de Bible / Y aurait pas eu d’verger
Si y avait pas eu d’verger / Y aurait pas eu d’pommier
Si y avait pas eu d’pommier / Y aurait pas eu d’serpent
Si y avait pas eu d’serpent / Y aurait pas eu d’péché
CQ CQ CQFD CQFD

Mais l’encre sans crier
Maudit le parolier
Et sans un parolier
Y aurait pas eu d’chanson / Y aurait pas eu d’chanson (3 X)
Chanson qui tourne en rond / Chanson qui tourne en rond (2 X)
CQ CQ CQFD CQFD

Myckaël Marcovic, le 14 mars 2024

CQFD = Ce Qu’il Fallait Démontrer = What had to be demonstrated

CQFD
(recap song)

Why do we have to work?
Blame it on the peach tree
Who thinks he's an apple tree!
If there hadn't been an apple tree / There wouldn't have been a snake
If there hadn't been a snake / There'd be no sin
CQ CQ CQFD CQFD

But to untangle it all
Just think
It's the orchard's fault!
If there hadn't been an orchard / There wouldn't have been an apple tree
If there'd been no apple tree / There'd have been no snake
If there hadn't been a snake / There'd be no sin
CQ CQ CQFD CQFD

But God, incorruptible,
Says: "It's inadmissible,
It's the Bible's fault!"
If there had been no Bible / There wouldn't have been an orchard
If there'd been no orchard / There'd have been no apple tree
If there'd been no apple tree / There'd have been no snake
If there hadn't been a snake / There'd be no sin
CQ CQ CQFD CQFD

The handwritten Bible
Under the agitated still
Says: it's the scribe's fault!
If there had been no scribe / There would have been no Bible
If there'd been no Bible / There'd have been no orchard
If there'd been no orchard / There'd have been no apple tree
If there'd been no apple tree / There'd have been no snake
If there hadn't been a snake / There'd be no sin
CQ CQ CQFD CQFD

But ink without shouting
Curses the lyricist
And without a lyricist
There wouldn't have been a song / There wouldn't have been a song (3 X)
A song that goes round and round / Song that goes round and round (2 X)
CQ CQ CQFD CQFD

Myckaël Marcovic, March 14, 2024

CQFD = Ce Qu'il Fallait Démontrer = What had to be demonstrated

CQFD

Klangoebel-Soundtracks, Vol. 2: Stranger Atmospheres

To Trump the Bastard

Echoes and Dreams by Experience Wildwood Resurged is a journey through the landscapes of freedom, resilience, and inner exploration. Inspired by the timeless energy of classic rock, each track reflects a different facet of the human spirit’s quest for meaning and strength.

From the haunting introspection of "Chasing the Horizon" to the defiant anthem "Unchained Resistance," this album captures the pulse of rebellion and self-discovery. "Echoes of Freedom" and "Road to Freedom" are reminders of the timeless desire to break boundaries and find one’s own path, while "Flowing Dreams" and "Journey of the Soul" evoke the quieter, reflective moments of this journey.

Together, these songs create a cohesive experience that is both raw and uplifting, blending powerful guitar riffs, soulful rhythms, and lyrics that speak to the soul. Echoes and Dreams invites listeners to embrace their own road of freedom and to rediscover the echoes of dreams that drive us all forward.

Journey of the soul - Experience Wildwood Resurged

Based on Dorothy Parker's Experience--->


Experience

Some men break your heart in two,
Some men fawn and flatter,
Some men never look at you;
And that clears up the matter.

https://classicalpoets.org/2024/11/the-trochaic-poems-of-dorothy-parker-an-essay-by-joseph-s-salemi/

and her capacity to lash out mordantly

In navigation, a rhumb line, rhumb (/rʌm/), or loxodrome is an arc crossing all meridians of longitude at the same angle, that is, a path with constant azimuth (bearing as measured relative to true north). Navigation on a fixed course (i.e., steering the vessel to follow a constant cardinal direction) would result in a rhumb-line track.

The prompt for the Itch.IO game jam was: "Sail Away!"
And of course, punning on Captain Jack Sparrow's question.

SamāššEšrā

Where Has The Rhumb Gone? submission for WNCJ #11 hosted by emscottish for Itch.IO March 2025

Buy on Beatport

Where Has The Rhumb Gone? submission for WNCJ #11 hosted by emscottish for Itch.IO

full album out now!! - https://bootlegsoda.bandcamp.com/album/inthenextlife

Bootleg Soda - drought

DELUXE

Aru Kuro On Rhea Moon is the first album by Labobros.
All the Music and Lyrics by Labobros.
CREDITS:
Vero Luz
Fumie Masaki
Dawn Martinez
Antonello Cosenza
Sirma Kuncheva
Antonio Iapichino
Giuseppe Cirino
Jonatan Amato
Andrea Pontone
Carmen Dimitri
Roberto De Rosis
Serafino Zangaro
Tonio Carnevale
Antonia Rizzuti

Aru Kuro On Rhea Moon

Thepenname

I don't claim any ownership over any of this. Anyone can use any of it for any reason forever. Also I accept liability. Please don't sue me (and/or let's collaborate).

"Holy fucking shit, this shit is crazy wtf"

"Moments of being passable beyond novelty"

"Very ok"

"Actually slaps"

"Straight art"

At its core, the blorgpulkf is a pulsating, iridescent orb that thrums with an energy that can only be described as "the sound of a thousand bees having a rave inside a kaleidoscope." It's hypnotic, it's unsettling, and it's strangely addictive - like watching a lava lamp filled with Mountain Dew and gummy bears.

But that's just the beginning. Surrounding this pulsing heart are layers upon layers of... well, your guess is as good as mine. One moment it's a tangled web of neon tubes that hum with an eerie frequency, the next it's a churning mass of what appears to be sentient silly putty. And is that a tiny disco ball I see nestled in there? You bet your sweet bippy it is.

As for its features, the blorgpulkf is like a Swiss Army knife designed by a mad scientist with a penchant for pranks. It's got a button that releases a burst of confetti and the sound of a rubber chicken being stepped on, a lever that causes the whole thing to fold in on itself like a origami crane having an existential crisis, and a tiny compartment that dispenses a single, perfectly spherical grape every 37 hours.

But perhaps the most baffling feature of the blorgpulkf is its ability to communicate. Not with words, of course - that would be far too pedestrian. No, the blorgpulkf speaks in a language all its own, a cryptic code of flashing lights, whirring gears, and the occasional burst of atonal jazz played on what sounds suspiciously like a didgeridoo.




The plorksickle. It's like someone took a fever dream, a Mad Lib, and a Dada art installation, threw 'em in a blender, and hit "puree."

Picture this: a contraption that looks like it crawled out of a Salvador Dali painting and mated with a Rube Goldberg machine. It's got a crank that sounds like a yodeling ostrich, a button that releases a puff of glitter and the scent of existential dread, and a tiny screen that just flashes the word "moist" in Wingdings.

But here's the kicker - every time you think you've figured out what it does, it changes the game. One minute it's reciting beat poetry in binary code, the next it's turning itself inside out and becoming a Klein bottle. And don't even get me started on the time it started oozing a viscous liquid that tasted like the color purple.

Is it a tool? A toy? A sentient being from another dimension that's just really, really bad at communication? Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is, it's the most beautifully useless thing I've ever laid eyes on.

But maybe that's the point. In a world where everything has to have a purpose, a function, a reason for being, the plorksickle is a big, fat middle finger to the very concept of sense. It's absurdity for absurdity's sake, a Zen koan in physical form.

So if you ever see me on the street, cradling this bizarre little gizmo like a newborn lovechild, don't ask me what it does. Just nod, smile, and know that you're in the presence of something truly inexplicable. Something that laughs in the face of logic and spits in the eye of reason.

and her capacity to lash out mordantly

blorgpulkfplorksickle