It Bears Repeating... 

 


 

Isaac Newton’s grand work, Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica, is sometimes listed as having been over 900 pages long in the original three volumes. More recent editions come in at 466 or so and, of course, the original was printed in Latin. Then the language of the learned.

After some centuries and minor modifications via Albert Einstein and others you’d think the matter (specifically the inverse square law) had been settled. After all, we put men on the moon using that equation and that, as they say, should have been that.

But in 1799, an obscure scholar named Hans Becker gave the book a good going over and discovered, or so he claimed, three critical errors that devastated the whole hypothesis and revealed a much clearer picture of the natural world and the forces within it. He wrote a rebuttal to Newton’s work that totaled some 1234 page but didn’t publish it as he was killed a short time later in the Battle of Abukir while fighting for the French in Napolean’s ill fated adventure in Egypt.

He was a busy little man and one wonders where he found the time. 

In any event, the book contained one major flaw. It was written entirely in a code of Becker’s own creation and thus his work was lost to the ages. No key to the code was ever found and scholars have, for two centuries now, tried and failed to decode it.

Then, in 2023, a Czech scientist working at Charles University in Prague, doing extensive research in Mathematics, took a stab at it. He decided to try out a newly developed AI created specifically for such research and went to work. 

He freely admitted it was just an exercise. No one expected a grand break through in physics or any other such discipline. It was simply a code breaking attempt as all previous attempts at cracking Becker’s code had been spectacular failures and this was a chance to test the limits of an AI wrestling with just such a problem. He was elated to find, almost instantly, a complete translation of Becker’s master work.

That is, he did until he read the first sentence which went as follows:

“Great buttons! The camel’s gone foamy!”

What followed was over a thousand pages of more or less the same. What did it mean? Was it a code within a code? A cipher to obscure the code? A practical joke by a German who enlisted in the French army and died in the shadow of the pyramids? Or was he just looney as the Canadian dollar and worth much less?

Recently, Butler 1 and Butler 2, that is to say, Sherlock’s Butlers, sat down to have a standard Butler songwriting session and produce more material for our new album. It, of course, turned into a bullshit session as such things often do and the above tale was related by Butler 2 to his partner Butler 1. The next thing you know, theories were flying and various tangents related before an idea formed into a strategy and boom, Butlers gone batshit.

Hey it happens.

The notion took hold that a code should be created and each new song encoded with it and sung as encoded. The result, hopefully, would be I Am The Walrus meets Jabberwooky meets Finnegan’s Wake after a bottle of single malt whisky and while having a poetry competition.

Or something like that. It made sense at the time.

In the full ripening of the morning sun, Butler 1 made a painful, tortured trip to the kitchen and brewed a pot of French Roast while cursing the world and then called Butler 2. Butler 2, apparently, had experienced a much more labored trip to the kitchen and was in no mood for ‘top of the mornings’ or any similar salutation. None the less, it was agreed that the previous day’s plan was a bunch of crap from beginning to end and neither had any idea what the hell they were thinking. This led to prolonged rumination during which, much to his consternation, Butler 1 discovered his coffee had simply refused to kick in and, indeed, had gone cold. 

Thermodynamics is a harsh mistress.

In lieu of that unfortunate fact, it was decided to continue the conversation at another time. That time was left unspecified but as we now know, so was the key to Hans Becker’s code. One man’s mystery is another man’s foamy camel.

So as you can see, creating the hits of tomorrow today while getting through yesterday and living to regret it is no easy task and not one to be taken on by just anybody. The pitfalls are many and the survivors are few. The meek are generally left on the side of the road to be devoured by wild dogs. Or bears. We’ve seen it happen.

So we ask for your patience as we plow our way through another winter of creative madness and odd sorties into places best left alone. We want to offer another album as soon as possible but the possible is sometime sidetracked by the absurd. We admit (for I am Butler 1, if we’re being honest here) that more often than not we’re just amusing ourselves. But honestly, any other approach would probably be counter productive as we are grumpy old men and, as we found out to our peril, it really is best not to poke the bear.

A recent email from one of our (couldn’t believe there were any) followers asked us if we were serious about the bear thing and if so where the hell was our studio located that bruins plodded through the property with such regularity. The answer of course is, none of your damn business. If you live in the state of Washington and don’t know where the Thunder Dog mountains are, then move to a state with a simpler geography! Some things are classified, as Butler 2 has made clear on numerous occasions, and here in bear country we are looking out for your safety as much as our privacy. So trust us, or not.

But we do hope you will enjoy our forthcoming album and are listening to our previous albums like madmen listening to voices.

We are Butlers after all and we live to serve.

Breaking News From the Thunderdog Mountains 

In the wild world that was 2002, lo, so many years ago and so many worlds 
away, the sale of CDs accounted for 96 percent of music industry revenues. 
Or so we have been informed by The Washington Post, one of America’s last bastions of truth.
Now they account for a measly 3 percent and are seen more as memorabilia than music. 

Of course, since then, the slice of the music revenue pie vis-a-vis the sale of LPs has fallen, risen, fallen again and continues an up and down, side to side, drunken sailor, hard to pin point, march toward minor, but still significant presence in the merry world of music makers and the general public. 

We will assume you are the later as the former is us and we live an insular existence here in the Thunderdog mountains of western Washington. A small but geographically intriguing part of the state and currently the home and world headquarters of Sherlock’s Butlers Global Endeavors LLC.

Which brings us to the nub of the matter which brings us to the poor, battered,
coffee splattered, crumb filled keyboard onto which we pile so much abuse it is a wonder some reactor somewhere in the world hasn’t already melted down in protest.

Yes, many years back now, when Sherlock’s Butlers were still employed by the agency that dare not speak it’s name, we loaded up for bear and made an executive decision to mass produce our own CDs and distribute them broadly and cheaply to the masses. Enormous capital investments were made (that is to say, larger than any bar tab I’d ever run up) and viola, we were prepared and ready to make that dream a reality.

Then reality bit us as Spotify and subsequent streaming platforms became the standard by which so many (if not all) of us listen to music. 

But still, as we watched the cobwebs grow and gather on the equipment and the blank discs pile up at our feet, we couldn’t help asking ourselves; should we be trying to sell these things? Who the hell has a CD player or tray or even a slot anymore? There seems no point.

We would also be remiss if we didn’t take a moment to say what a great platform Bandcamp, our current means of distribution, is. They make us happy and sometimes we even giggle when exploring their many offerings. Not in a bad way, we’re just glad to find musicians as silly as ourselves. We hope, as well, that you will take advantage of their service as they’re a great bunch and have been a very good thing for so many.

But still, (once again, according to the Washington Post) some people actually seek out CDs. We can only assume they are drunks who fill their lives with bad decisions, gross misdemeanors and poor careers choices.

In other words, our kind of people! And who are we to turn our backs on our people? Who are we to turn our backs on anybody? Turning your back these days is never an advisable action, which is good for us as we give terrible advise. No dear friends, if one has ‘em, share ‘em. 

Those were the words of my Uncle Bill when he first introduced me to cigars and they have held me in good stead over the years. So, in that spirit, and because we here at Sherlock’s Butlers are old school in the oldest possible sense, we’d like to make the following offer. If you’d like an actual CD of one of our albums, go to our contact page and send us an email requesting one. Obviously, you will need to include your name and address but worry not, we maintain no database.

Anymore. 

We will send you a CD with a genuine CD cover with genuine CD art. This offer is only as good as our equipment and our equipment...I would refer you back to the paragraph regarding this keyboard.

A note of caution, if by some chance you have discovered our phone number and if, by some chance, you have texted us with a request for a CD, you should probably know that we will spare no expense in tracking you down and ……

You know what? Just don’t text us. We get enough of that already and it distracts us when we are having a roaming bear prevention drill.

Which we do a lot. If you live anywhere here or near the Thunderdog mountains you should be doing the same, though I will not belabor the point here. I should, but I won’t. Why, because if you’ve read this far you definitely our kind of people.

So, this is our special offer and if you find it appealing and we actually, as they say in the biz, move units, we may start selling the little plastic frisbees of mirth. So this could be your chance for the bargain of a life time.

Although, we still feel that investing big in Lithium is the real way to go. Consult your broker, results may vary and investing is legalized gambling anyway you look at it.

With all that in mind, best wishes and good luck.


 

SB

Tortured Tales with the Prince of Wails 

Due to myriad obstacles and events beyond the control of pretty much everyone, not to mention us,
it took sometime to produce the latest Sherlock's Butlers magnum opus, At Your Service. However we
can now jubilantly proclaim that the new, above named, collection of songs is loose and running free,
like yet another virus, among the general public.
You're welcome.

There were many strange and mind bending events that we would, if only for the sake of trying to find someone who would believe us (always a challenge), truly enjoy relating here. However, like the ever present drunk at the end of the bar, there comes a time to end one's revelries and allow the other patrons to drink in peace. It makes no difference that we are currently stone cold sober or that the bar closed last night hours after we were asked to leave. We see no reason to burden our audience with late night tales of bears and stubborn computers filled with malevolent software, guitars unwilling to tune and cars that defy physics and mechanics.

But we do hope you'll give us a listen and bear in mind the many challenges overcome and wrestled to the muddy ground so as to present our music to the world and hope the world will….not kick us out of the bar.

As of this date, however, we are full tilt crazy into production on new music with the determined goal of having another album in less time then the last album because we damn near lost our minds with At Your Service and we have made many adjustments and/or changes since then. We see ourselves as a whole new band now. Even though we could probably do with a whole new band now, as there are just the two of us and these damn foraging bears who respect no property lines and have no specific taste when it comes to anything edible.
Not to suggest that anything regarding the album is the bears fault. They are just nature's creatures seeking food or barring that, us.

Very much the same thing as far as they're concerned. Perhaps we're too plump for our own good.

In retrospect, the current blog post seems to be a digression masquerading as a narrative. Which suddenly makes me realize why we were asked to leave last night. 

No matter, the new album is out, you can find it on Bandcamp and we hope you enjoy it 

SB