February 07, 2005
Doomed Patterns of Destiny
Just in time for an oedipal/electral valentine's, this book review from The Boston Globe entitled What's infantile sexuality got to do with it? takes a look at a book called Love's Confusions by C.D.C Reeve.
The book appears to be a new exploration of the old familiar idea that we set our patterns for adult romance in infancy and then just get to repeat that same crappy pattern. Over and over.
From the review:
''Love is whatever develops from, and somewhat recapitulates, a child's relationship with his mother." That sounds reductive, but it's not. Infants think as well as feel; and infantile thinking underlies adult thinking, just as infantile sexuality underlies adult sexuality. Somehow -- we don't yet know how, and Reeve's Freudian account, though plausible, is not fully convincing -- an infant forms images, first of itself and then of the outside world. These images are the characters (''inner-baby," ''inner-Mommy") in a drama that takes place in the infant imagination. The plot elements in this drama are the infant's needs and the mother's help and approval. As the plot thickens -- with the mother's occasional disapproval, absence, even neglect, the infant's answering hatred, and eventually the father's competing, threatening presence, as well as new infantile needs (for bodily control, not merely food) -- new characters are added (''bad inner-baby," ''bad inner-Mommy," ''inner-Daddy," etc.), along with new plot twists. The infant's dramaturgy is called ''fantasy"; enumerating its techniques is one main function of psychoanalytic theory.''We are actors," Reeve writes, ''playing roles for actors playing roles for us." The scripts are continually revised, of course, but elements of the primal drama, the original script, keep reappearing.
_____
Mmm-hmm. Isn't it cheery to realize you were already broken and screwed up before you even learned to walk? And that horrible 3 months you had with so-and-so apparently was destiny, after all. Doomed internal primal drama destiny, true, but if you subscribe to this school of thought, that's what you get. All you get.
Brings to mind an Oscar Wilde line: "The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast."
{curtain}
November 28, 2004
Octavian's Cover-up?
The Times UK has a fascinating report on new speculations about Cleopatra's death. The intro:
The death of Cleopatra from an asp bite is one of history's greatest romantic tragedies. But can the verdict of suicide, accepted for 2,000 years, stand up to a modern-day investigation by a forensic expert?
May 15, 2004
March 24, 2004
What? No Cold Duck?
Science & Technology at Scientific American.com: King Tut Drank Red Wine, Research Reveals.
December 17, 2003
Marquise du Chatelet's birthday
Today is Madame du Chatelet's birthday.
Gabrielle-Emilie Le Tonnelier de Breteuil, Marquise du Chatelet (1706-1749) was a mathematician and an expert on Newtonian physics (among her writings and translations, she translated Newton's Principia into French and it is still the only translation of it in French today). She had a huge influence on the French Enlightenment.
Oh, yeah. She also had a huge influence on Voltaire (and vice versa). Intellectually and presumably in other ways as they were long-term lovers.
She died in September 1749 days after giving birth to a girl (not Voltaire's nor her husband's, incidentally, but that's another story).
Here's how Voltaire described the scene of du Chaletet giving birth to her daughter: "The little girl arrives while her mother was at her writing desk, scribbling some Newtonian theories, and the newly born baby was placed temporarily on a quarto volume of geometry, while her mother gathered together her papers and was put to bed."
So. There. When silly people say girls are no good at or not interested in math and science (as they have occasionally been wont to do), just tell 'em about Madame du Chaletet.
And she was doing her work in the 18th century to boot!
Strindberg and Helium
Was chatting on AIM (something I do only once in a blue moon) with Maya earlier and she referred me to this brilliant twisted little site called Strindberg & Helium.
Yes. The playwright Strindberg. And the gas helium.
If you're a fan of either, it's a must-visit.
November 28, 2003
Wonder What Was In HER 12th House?
From a book review article called Studying the Seductive Women:
She [Lou Andreas-Salome] was also one of the world's great seductresses. Her list of literally hundreds of lovers and suitors included Frederick Nietzsche and the nihilist philosopher Paul Ree (she lived with both in a menage a trois), the poet Rainier Maria Rilke, even Freud. One suitor committed suicide for want of her love, and two others, including Nietzsche, attempted to end it all because their attentions were spurned.
Man, talk about hitting the motherlode in the mopey dark dude department! Impressive.
Bet she could have come up with the elusive right word for this. I'm adding her to my Dead Dinner Party guest list for sure.
November 14, 2003
Firewater
Last night, went out with some friends to see Firewater at the Bottom of the Hill. Fantastic show. I highly recommend seeing 'em live if you like them.
Bottom of the Hill is a small enough venue that I even was able to stand right up in front near the stage. This vantage point was great as not only did I have a good view for the whole show, but when the band came back for their encore, the singer Tod A was smoking a cigarette and handed it to me (as I was standing in the spot right under him) so he could get back to singing.
Yeah, I know you might say "so what?" to that, but remember I live in Calicorrectfornia, where smoking is not allowed in clubs either -- and oh, that cigarette was so very timely and satisfying.
Passed it along to the other people standing near me -- apparently I wasn't the only one who was needing a timely drag. I am talking about just a regular cigarette here, mind you, which I know sounds silly to anyone who doesn't live in California (or New York or the other places where they've passed anti-smoking laws).
So, I just must say thanks to Firewater for the great show and part of a cigarette.
My needs are so easily gratified .....
__________
Firewater's nicely-done web site is here:
Firewater: Official Band Website.
September 15, 2003
Panthéonization of George Sand
The Guardian UK's book section has a piece about the controversy over the proposed panthéonization of George Sand. (link via Arts & Letters Daily.)
I've been sort of loosely following this story since I first heard about it (here's an old reference to the story I had meant to post here but never got that post out of draft form ....)
My interest in the story is just that I am a big George Sand fan and -- well -- c'mon. It's an amusing sort of celebrity controversy to follow. At least to me. It's certainly much more interesting than following the gossip on Ben & J-Lo or the usual melodramas that one can't avoid hearing about no matter how much one really tries. However, I realize I'm a freak of cultural literacy references and I'm in the minority here. So, that means that unlike followers of Ben & J and other stories about related famous flavors of the day, I just won't get to see references to the George story every single day on the front page of news sources or running in the ticker on the bottom of news shows on TV.
Well, since George was once the famous flavor of her day, I figure (perhaps anachronistically) that the well-being and whereabouts of her corpse deserves to be in a news ticker and in more news gossip & dish rags. So. Guess I'll just have to do it myself in a rudimentary fashion. So, I think I'm going to try to post links to any juicy future stories I see about the fate of George's remains here.
You are all thrilled to hear it, aren't you? Half of you, no doubt, are saying "George Sand? Who's he?" Um. Sigh.
July 06, 2003
Rollins at the Fillmore
Tuesday of last week, some friends of mine invited me to go see The Henry Rollins Band with them at the Fillmore that evening.
I've mentioned before in this blog that I kinda don't pay attention to what's going on out and about town much anymore, so I hadn't even been aware that the band was playing in town. However, somewhat coincidentally, I happened to have been chatting with someone the week before who was here in SF visiting, and she mentioned having just seen Henry Rollins in Florida. She also mentioned the tour the band was on was a benefit tour for the West Memphis Three. I'd heard about that case, as I'd seen the documentary "Paradise Lost" several years ago and have occasionally checked in at the WM3 website to see if there's anything new in the story. (As explaining what the West Memphis Three case is all about would be a bit complicated, I refer you instead to this article on Blogcritics, which describes the background to the West Memphis Three story as well as Henry Rollins' reasons for doing this benefit tour for it -- Blogcritics.org: Rollins Band/WM3 Tribute Tour).
So, when my friends told me The Rollins Band was playing at the Fillmore last Tuesday, I figured they were in town on the same benefit tour I'd just heard mentioned. And, yup, that's what it was.
The band for this tour also included Keith Morris from the Circle Jerks as well. Morris sang some of the songs and Rollins did the others. Already practically felt like it was a wee bit of a punk "Big Chill" thing or something with just those two sharing the stage -- not to mention many of the songs they did were old punk band covers -- I recall at least one Dead Boys' song as well as a couple of Ramones' songs.
Towards the end of the show, Rollins announced they had a special guest to bring out. And out comes the Dead Kennedys' Jello Biafra, who talked a bit and did a song. (Perhaps not so surprising they'd have him come on stage here in San Francisco, considering ....)
Boggled my little mind to see such an array of "ghosts of punk past" this way. Definitely thought it was a great show and I had an absolute blast.
I also found it a little funny, on a personal note, to observe that before this show, I hadn't actually seen a show at the Fillmore since the early 80s -- and the show I'd seen at the Fillmore way back then just happened to have been the Dead Kennedys.
Odd coincidence, especially considering that at one point in my life, I did go see many, many bands play in many, many places here in SF. But then again, maybe not that odd as I know that the reason I saw so few shows at the Fillmore was that somewhere in the mid-to-late 80s, the Fillmore closed for a while and went through some renovations and changes. For a short while in the 80s, they even tried to turn it into a dance club, renaming it the Elite Club. I went a couple times when it was this dance club, I remember -- a short-lived phase for the Fillmore, fortunately. By the time they turned it back into a live music venue -- and I don't remember offhand when that was -- I had stopped going to see live shows much.
Anyway, San Francisco was the band's last stop in the U.S. and they're off to finish the tour out of the country now. And I'm just pleased I ended up seeing it.
Beginning to think that maybe I should glance at the music calendar listings on occasion, eh? I'm sure there are other shows I'd be glad to have seen, too, if I bothered to look up what's going on in a given week ....
But I think I kinda like being accidentally dragged off to things these days. Makes it more random. And I do enjoy the random.
June 27, 2003
Disjointed Literary Bits
Stumbled upon this lovely web site called Literary Locales. It's a collection of more than a thousand picture links of places mentioned in famous literature or that are associated or notable in various authors' lives.
Speaking of authors, shall segue into a little calendar trivia now and mention that today is the birthday of Frank O'Hara (1926-1966).
George Sand (1804-1876) has her birthday coming up this Tuesday (July 1st). Wrote up a short piece on George Sand a couple of years ago that's tucked away on my defunct Dead Authors section.
The Dead Authors section was one of those weird ideas I got one day some years ago that sounded like it'd be an absorbing side project to tinker on but I realized that the idea I had would really be far too unwieldy and time-consuming to undertake if I wanted to try to do it right. So I decided to scrap it as a project to attempt, as I had (and still have) quite enough half-finished project experiments already, indeed. Left the pieces I initially wrote up, though, for what they're worth and just because they contained a few possibly noteworthy tidbits that might be of use to someone sometime.
One of those pieces was this page that goes a little bit into George Sand and has an interesting graphic of an old fan of hers that had been painted by Charpentier, illustrating Sand's "salon."
Always meant to do a little piece on Frank O'Hara for that Dead Authors section, too, but never got around to it.
And I can tell you exactly why. Because I just now did what I always did when I attempted to write my mini-profiles and pieces. Would go look up a little bit on an author to get a quote right, a factoid confirmed and instead end up on a mini-celebratory rereading of the author's work. Sometimes, for DAYS. Heh.
Yup. And this is what just happened penning this. I thought to go find a simple little quote from one of Frank O'Hara's poems to maybe end this entry with. Now, an hour and some minutes later, after collapsing happily into Frank O'Hara's poetry, rereading and rereading many of my favorites of his -- I have a lot of favorites with him --I emerge reluctantly to just finish off this entry so I can go reread him some more ....
So. No quick quote will suffice because I want to quote all of his lines. I have been a fervent admirer of O'Hara ever since a friend pressed a book of his poetry into my hands about twenty years ago and said "Read this. He's great." And I did. And he was.
So, I guess I'll just close out this somewhat disjointed entry by doing like that old friend did. Please allow me to press into the (virtual) hands of those unfamiliar with this poet a link or two and say: "Go read him. He's great."
____
A Frank O'Hara site (where you can find some links to some of his poems online; same one I recently mentioned, incidentally, when I quoted an O'Hara poem.)
Frank O'Hara books from Amazon
Also filed under: calendar trivia ; george sand
May 13, 2003
B Movies
Oh, here's a goody: the Lifetime Movie Title Generator. (link via Daze Reader)
When I first got cable hooked up some years back, I assumed from the listings, the Lifetime channel was the B Movie channel, and I was amused to see an entire channel devoted to bad movie-of-the-week rerurns. Not too long after that, I was a tad peeved to find out the channel billed itself (and apparently proudly to boot) as the entertainment for women channel.
Oh, c'mon. Puh-leeeze.
I think watching Tiffany Amber Thiessen wander around stupidly with amnesia or Cheryl Ladd search for her kidnapped kids through bad plots certainly must transcend gender. I really think it terribly unfair that women get the blame both for original sin AND the Lifetime Channel.
It's simply too much to bear.
Sigh.
But I do like B movies. I admit it. I especially like classic old B movies, which somehow can seem a bit redeemed by the passage of time. Bad film noir movies and 60s romps.
I just rewatched a classic 60s romp a couple days ago: What's New Pussycat? This movie is actually an early Woody Allen film (not to be confused with his other early offering, What's Up, Tiger Lily?) Allen didn't direct this one, but he did write the screenplay. It was supposed to be a semi-biographical farce about "You're So Vain" Warren Beatty, but Allen's screenplay played up the other bizarre characters more than the character based on Beatty, so Beatty declined to do the film. So, instead, they got Peter O'Toole to star in it. Co-stars include Peter Sellers (who seems to sport a sort of Lord Fauntleroy outfit while being chased by his Valkyrie-costumed wife throughout parts of the film), Paula Prentiss, and Woody Allen (his acting debut, apparently). Oh, yeah, then there's the bit where Ursula Andress gratutiously falls from the sky.
All to Burt Bacharach's title song to the movie. Whoa-whoa-whoa-uh. Love that damn song. Bacharach's birthday, was told coincidentally, just happened to be yesterday, May 12th. Happy Birthday, Pussycat.
I double dog dare Lifetime to run that movie sometime. Oh, but it's not a women-in-peril/women-empowered-by-peril flick. But I think given how their programming rationalizations seem to go, they could actually justify it by noting how many women Peter O'Toole imperils by calling them Pussycat.
You and your pussycat nose.
March 12, 2003
Burning From the Inside
Ah, yes, it'd be timely now to warn of the approaching Ides of March (the 15th), which just happens to mark a famous day in history for extispicy.
An Etruscan haruspex named Spurinna came up with the phrase "Beware the Ides of March," the famous warning given to Julius Caesar in 44 B.C. that said the 15th of March would be very unlucky for him and he should not leave his home. These soothsayers, Caesar's official priests, had actually divined this omen by using extispicy as the method of augury. Two oxen had been sacrificed by the priests for guidance, but when they put the sacrificed animals into the ritual fire, the oxen were consumed by the fire completely and much too quickly than was normal. This abnormality the priests saw as a decidedly bad omen.
Did Caesar listen to his priests? Nope. He ventured out to the Senate's steps, where he was subsequently skewered himself -- almost perhaps to the point where his entrails could have borrowed for a little divination had anyone dared presume upon him right then. (Human entrail reading happens to be called anthropomancy. Hmm. How about reading a Caesar's entrails? Well, that was one divinatory method that they didn't apparently attempt .... at least that we know of.)
The methods and types of divination in Caesar's day were numerous.* Entrail-reading could take many forms and had many "subspecialities." For example, hieromancy or hieroscopy refers to the general practice of divination via sacrificing animals while the actual examination of the liver and entrails of the animal is known as haruspicy. Any abnormalities in the viscera observed were considered especially significant and interpreted as signs. And examination of just the liver itself was yet another divinatory method called hepatoscopy.
Extispicy was a fairly involved hieromantic ritual with several different parts to it. Extispicy rituals started with the actual sacrifice and evisceration of the animal, followed by the entrail examination, and after that the entrails and the rest of the animal's carcass would be put onto a ritual fire. (burnt offerings.) The extispieces would carefully examine the entrails at each point throughout the entire process for certain signs and omens. When the animal and its entrails were in the fire, any signs and omens observed as they burned would fall under the term pyromancy or maybe even more precisely, causimomancy -- the latter being the practice of watching how an object in the fire reacts. (It was considered a good omen when something typically combustible did not ignite -- thus, probably why the opposite effect of the two oxen burning to a crisp so alarmed Caesar's priests that long ago day.)
If the priests had wanted to look at and interpret the cracks in the scapulas of the animals' bones as they burned -- that would be called scapulomancy. And, finally, after the fire has burnt out, they could always have indulged in a little tephromancy -- divination by looking at ashes from burned sacrifices.
Yup. They had about as many different ways of slicing up the viscera, peering into it, and barbecuing it as we in the modern day have specialty cable channels.
So, take that as your omen this day -- to beware the Ides of the March and watch out for TVs. Or at least examine your TV carefully for any abnormalities or ill omens if you deign to watch it this wicked day .... it might be trying to tell you or trying to sell you something portentous.
_____
*Note for real sticklers: I am not sure if all of the descriptions of the entrail-reading divination "sub-specialties" I cited are completely definitive or exact -- as the various sources I consulted tend to vary a bit on some of them. Nor is this necessarily a historically accurate description of these divination methods as they had been practiced in Rome during Julius Caesar's day -- as some of the sources I used to devise the explanations and check on the terms were referring to the rituals as they had been practiced by the Etruscans or Babylonians.
Also filed under: arts + culture ; calendar trivia
March 01, 2003
How Sentimental
A couple of nights ago, I went with my friend Dave (inspired by the fact that we've been bonding for weeks now on old 80s music and other such nostalgia) to go see Camper Van Beethoven who played at Bimbo's. It was a blast, and Camper Van Beethoven was really good -- sometimes, ya know, those reunion of the old band incarnation shows can suck. But they didn't. They were really amazing.
They did a cover of Fleetwood Mac's "Tusk" that I'd never heard them do before and it was really bizarrely wonderful. But they really have always had a way with twisted covers.
When they did their song "Take the Skinheads Bowling," couldn't help being reminded of my dead friend Norman (due to the fact that I remember being stuck in a car with Norman one drunken night years and years ago where we were waiting for the others to return from where they went a-romping, and Norman and I entertained each other by drunkenly singing that song to each other loudly ...hehehe.)
I used to go see bands all the time back in the 80s. I so rarely do anymore. Did happen to see Daniel Ash last year when I was in New Orleans, but nothing in between. It usually just seems like too much trouble and I don't even really pay much attention to what's going on out there in more recent days at all. Gettin' old or lazy, I guess. But this was a definitely amusing outing and felt even a little revived from it. Somehow, I'm half-enjoying and half-frightened of this little inadvertent nostalgia trip I keep going on lately -- some of which has been half-provoked by Dave, as he keeps telling me nostaglic bits from his misspent youth ..... while playing me Flipper ("Sex Bomb Baby, yeah!") and the Beat Farmers, for god's sake.
But, actually, can't totally blame him, as come to think of it, just about everybody I know who was cognizant during that time period seems to be indulging in something like this lately. What's the deal? Is it time for the punk big chill or some other sort of ice age or something? Oh, please, no.
Whatever it is, it's starting to drive me slightly insane as I keep wondering if my life is flashing before my eyes or if I'm just having flashbacks? Both, probably. But I'm probably actually just perimenopausal or something.
Anyway, dizzy from these fumes of nostalgia, I went digging through some old photos again and just added a couple new pages to my Misspent Youth photo pages. The ones I just added are Proto-bat (photos of me from 1983) and Living at Night Isn't Helping My Complexion. (photos of Norman, Lorrainne, and moi from 1986).
Well, to quote something else from ancient days, like Magenta would say: "How sentimental ......"
Yup. 'Tain't it?
Sigh.
February 23, 2003
The French are so French
Oh, I was far too amused by this wicked little list of French military "highlights" from Professor Bunyip.
I've noticed there's been a lot of sniping at the French lately in various blogs (in response partly to the things Chirac has recently been going on about) -- as if it should have come as some surprise that the French can be perhaps a bit spuriously irascible at times.
That very tendency of theirs is actually one of the main reasons I do so enjoy delving into French history. I mean, really, try reading the full text of some of the decrees issued by the Committee of Public Safety back during the French Revolution, if you doubt it.
The entire French Revolution could, I believe, be explained entirely by hats. When Kallisti and I were working on a project that involved a lot of research into the French Revolution, I kept threatening to do a Flash animation of a sort of hat montage about that. Still hope to get around to that one of these days.
Of course, it isn't just the French and their history that can be so strangely entertaining. Humans have always been such funny critters, indeed.
Almost as entertaining as cats.
I'm not speaking here politically in the least, please know. More sociologically, anthropologically. As in politics, human foibles and tendencies become so less forgivable, disheartening, and even potentially dangerous. And, today, at any rate, I just don't wanna go there. Ain't my forté.
January 31, 2003
Lou Reed's "The Raven" II
A little update to my previous entry:
Not only did learning about Lou Reed's new work make me squeal, but I actually jumped on ordering the CD from Amazon. The [double] CD arrived a couple of days ago (talk about almost instant gratification). Oh, it's good.
Lou Reed pulled together several other interesting people on this work -- the spoken word, music, and performances are interwoven so they form such interesting textures to the many pieces.
A couple of notables upon first listen were Steve Buscemi doing the voice for Fortunato from "The Cask of Amontillado." He does a brilliant rendition or was the brilliance Lou Reed's for casting him for that part? Both, probably.
"Imp of the Perverse" had me laughing at bits ("You little tumescent smear." "Ligeia!") Yeah ... it may not be exactly Poe's imp, but it's a bit perverse. Actually, I quite enjoyed the ways Reed veered off from the actual Poe. It worked.
It's good stuff. How could it not have been? Well, admittedly I'm not some connoisseur/critic of music, so I have no idea what the hardcore Lou Reed fans or critics may think of it, but as a hardcore Poe fan, let me just say Lo! 'Tis a Gala Tribute!
January 26, 2003
Lou Reed's "The Raven"
Few things make me squeal before I have had my morning coffee. But, I just learned Lou Reed is coming out with a new CD of music/spoken word called The Raven
Yes, the very idea of a Lou Reed tribute to Poe made me squeal. It's being released later this week.
January 19, 2003
Happy Poe Day
Also filed under: calendar trivia ; site updates
December 25, 2002
Blood, Money, Guns, Coffee, and Sexual Tension
I'm sure everyone reading this has heard by now that Joe Strummer's dead. I've seen it mentioned umpteen times all over the place the last couple or so days.
Now I'm not going to do a Ghost of Christmas Punk Past in homage to him here (although I do wish him a requiescat in pace). But I am going to defend a movie he was in: Straight to Hell (from 1987 and directed by Alex Cox). I've noticed that the few times Strummer's film credits have been mentioned in the recent tributes to him, the mentions seem a bit reluctant, and this movie is spoken of almost gingerly -- as if those brazen enough to mention this film are under the impression the movie was not ..... any ......good.
Not any good?? Not any good?? I beg to differ. Straight to Hell is the best western since Andy Warhol's Lonesome Cowboys from 1968!!!!
Yeah, yeah, I know everyone hated it. The critics. The fans of Alex Cox's previous movies. The people who paid to see it in the theatre. But why believe them??? Take my word for it* -- it's brilliant.
Admittedly, the squirmish would probably find it boring as hell, especially when it goes on for long stretches about relatively nothing. People who are expecting a plot that makes sense might be bemused. Others might just object to Courtney Love.
But I am unashamed to admit I adore this movie.
As its tagline says: It's a story of blood, money, guns, coffee, and sexual tension.
STRAIGHT TO HELL
_______
* do note you take my word for it at your own risk as I am occasionally accused of having questionable taste. After all, I do happen to adore "Lonesome Cowboys," too, which suffers from some long stretches and plots not plotted itself. Although in "Lonesome Cowboys," instead of Courtney Love, you get Viva!
December 13, 2002
What Poetry Form Am I Quiz
Personality Quiz - What Poetry Form Am I?
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Couldn't resist this quiz. Quite wonderful little example verses, too, for all 16 different possibilities of poetry forms.
(found on RavenBlog)
December 07, 2002
Un Chien Andalou
I love accidentally stumbling onto something wondrous when I am bouncing through web sites looking for something entirely else.
I wasn't even looking for anything close to Surrealist or Dada just now -- but some link -- well -- rather dadaistically bounced me onto this lovely page on Surrealism and Dada.
Usually on the web, as I'm sure y'all know from experience, clicking or merely mousing over some inadvertent link half by accident will condemn you to advert hell. The pop-ups of pornland, a morass of travel booking adverts, or -- my personal fave -- a particularly insistent and infernal webcam ad that has been popping up for at least two or three years straight. The same friggin' ad. At least, this is what happens to me in my version of a web-esque No Exit.
So, I was utterly stunned and euphoric to have accidentally bounced myself over to this page where a Duchamp piece told me I hadn't been thrown into the cavern of advert land! I have no idea what I clicked on to get there either .... Someone was being a clever little surrealist javascript coder somewhere, I guess. Hehe. Well done.
But! Even better than the Duchamp at the top of the page .... I was excited to find towards the bottom a link to a Quicktime version of the 1929 film "Un Chien Andalou." Which, if you don't know, is a film done by Salvador Dali and Luis Buñuel when they were just kinda fooling around with what was then the new medium of film.
Yay.
I first saw "Un Chien Andalou" ages ago in college in a seminar on classic avant-garde films. I don't remember all the films we saw during that course, although I recall a few of them: a film version of Sartre's "No Exit," a few other Buñuel filims ("Exterminating Angel" amongst others) and also two or three short evocative pieces by Maya Deren.
And, sadly, I don't think I've seen any of them again since.
Perhaps why I got so overly-excited at the idea I could watch the whole of "Un Chien Andalou" in my browser.
If I were a proper film buff, I would cart myself regularly to some arthouse theatre because, yeah, I know they run all of these old films at such places from time to time. But I guess I'm not a proper film buff.
And I just don't go to movie theatres much. Everyone thinks I'm insane when I say simply I don't like watching movies in movie theatres.
"But you gotta see THIS film in the theatre," they wail. "You have to see it on the big screen!"
No. I don't. I don't like movie theatres.
"Why not?" they wail.
It's an idiosyncractic aversion and irrational. Like green eggs and ham, I do not like them, that's the way I am.
Besides, those rare times when someone does succeed at dragging me out to a movie, they then get to feel very accomplished because it's pretty well-known amongst my acquaintances that I don't go to the movies.
Instead, I watch old movies on cable at 3:16 am and enjoy myself thoroughly.
Or I find a Quicktime version of "Un Chien Andalou" on a web page at 5:48 am and shout out loud with glee.
I am replete.
Au printemps.
September 19, 2002
Tests & Fetes
Mentioned I was half-mad a few entries ago. Guess I should amend my statement. I'm moderately mad. Or, rather, moderately disordered.
At least according to this:
I'm moderately schizotypal, obsessive-compulsive, borderline, and avoidant.
According to this test, I am this:
What revolution are You?
Made by
altern_activeJe ne suis pas! Je proteste! Comment est-ce que je puis être la Révolution Française quand je préfère énormément Voltaire á Rousseau??
I just looked up what today would be in the French Republican (Revolutionary) calendar converter (there's a spiffy Mac version of it here). And it happens today to be a Fête day, no less. La Fête du Travail (3ème comp.), An CCX.
Festival of Work. (Labour Day).
Actually, looking at the calendar, it seems we're in a Revolutionary Calendar Fête week right now .....
Tomorrow's Opinion Festival Day apparently. La Fête de l'Opinion (4ème comp.), An CCX.
Maybe tomorrow if I'm being more moderately Obsessive-Compulsive than moderately Avoidant, I'll opine on something ......
Or maybe I won't.
"Opinion has caused more trouble on this little earth than plagues or earthquakes."
--Voltaire
May 22, 2002
My Friend is in a Martini Shaker
Updating, updating, updating.
Well, I think I've proved myself lackadaisical about this blog/journal thing. I figured I would be. Although I certainly don't mind being self-referential and relating anecdotes, I haven't the stomach to sit down regularly and regurgitate everything in journal form. I don't even write in my private journals that extensively anymore. But there are reasons for that. And what are they?
Oh, please. I am half-mad, ya know. Do not make me elucidate.
I started several entries over the last couple of months for this thing, but I almost always got interrupted before I finished them. So. I did not finish them. And most of them seem far away and not worth finishing now.
So, maybe, I'll just finish something else instead.
However, I've been more recently embroiled in updates, some of which are worth pointing out here. Beginning of May, I helped to get a mini-update pulled together for the long-neglected Suffering is Hip. See SiH's NEWS for that.
I added a new section to the Bat Cafe -- the "booklets" page. Threw a downloadable PDF of a booklet (it's about 75 pages long) of my old poetry on there. It's the online version of a booklet I made a few years back and printed out for the Marquis. Silly boy. He likes my poetry. Well, actually, quite a few people like it. I'm usually ambivalent about it. My poetry is often just my cerebellum leaking. Nothing well-crafted or anything, usually. But I guess it has its moments.
Then I did a little maintenance redesign on SINS OF COFFEE, including the tribute page to Norman.
I went to visit Norman's niche in the Columbarium in March and took a photo with the digital camera (such a handy gadget). I've been meaning to get a photo of his niche for a long time now.
Note there's a French flag in his flower vase in this photo. That gave me a smile. Now, WHO put THAT there? Emmitt Watson, the caretaker of the Columbarium, told me the flag's been there for quite some time. I suspect someone who has read about Norman on Sepulchritude's/Sins of Coffee's pages might have placed it there -- as I can't quite figure out why someone else would put a French flag there. Unless one of Norman's other friends I wasn't so well-acquainted with had some sort of French in-joke with him ....
But if my suspicions are near to the truth, I suppose here would be as good a place as any to say --okay, 'fess up. What amenable personage has been anointing Norman's niche with French flags??? (curiosity maimed the bat, ya know .....).
The anniversary (nine years) of Norman's death is coming up next month. Sigh. I do still miss him terribly. I think he would have damn well enjoyed all we all have gotten up to these last nine years. But then, I think Norman's been damn well enjoying becoming a minorly notable landmark just where he is. (Cheers, Norman!)
Speaking of where Norman is and as I did mention Emmitt Watson, the Columbarium's caretaker, I do have one particular unfinished entry I started in March that I think it's time to finally get around to posting. March was a rather peculiar month for me. Both the unexpected and synchronicity seemed to mark most of it. And my visit to see Norman in March (when I took the photo) turned into quite the unexpected little adventure.
{And one that had been brought about by the synchronicity of the chairs -- but the story about the chairs is yet another unfinished entry I started in March -- but one I'll just have to save (or else I fear I'll never get THIS one finished)}
So, on a Friday back in late March, Laszlo and I happened to be passing by the neighborhood of the Columbarium around 8 in the morning. I was pretty sure the Columbarium would probably not be open that early, but thought we might check the hours on the door, since I always forget them and I'd been meaning to pay Norman a visit. (Partially because of the chairs .... later, later ....)
As I walked up towards the door, a friendly groundskeeper wandered over to find out what I was looking for. I told him I wanted to know the hours just so I could come back at a time when I could visit my friend inside. He told me what the hours were and then asked who my friend was. I told him my friend was the guy in the martini shaker.
"Oh, don't tell me ..." he says.
"Norman," I replied
"Yes. Norman Whited."
I smiled. "Yes, that's him. I've even had martinis from that shaker," I told him, adding: "Not lately, though, of course."
With that, I was graciously and heartily welcomed by this friendly man, who turned out to be Mr. Emmitt Watson -- caretaker, groundskeeper, historian (and more) of the Columbarium. He's really, I think, the unofficial Prince of this Necropolis and rather a fascinating person to chat with and listen to. I realized later on that I'd heard of him before -- he gets the occasional write-up in the local papers and other friends of mine had met him before on visits to the Columbarium. Although I've been to visit Norman before, somehow, I'd not yet had the pleasure. (Although I also realized he was the one I'd written a letter to some years ago after reading one of the articles that mentioned how he enjoys collecting stories of the people who reside within the Columbarium's walls. Of course, upon reading that, I just had to send him a couple of Norman stories ....)
Anyway, after exchanging these introductions, Emmitt Watson led us into the Columbarium (which was, as I had thought, not officially open that early in the morning) and showed us around, told us stories, and chatted with us. When we wound our way up to the floor to where Norman's niche is, he let us have time to say hello to Norman. Then, he continued to show us around. We ended up spending at least a couple of hours with Emmitt Watson, getting this delightful impromptu tour of the place. The man has stories. Lots of stories and history. And a reverence for the place and the people interred there that is just remarkable.
Norman is being looked after quite well, I would say. As are all the others. Some of whom I know a little about now, thanks to the stories I heard from the unofficial Prince of that Necropolis.
Emmitt Watson gives official tours, by the way, and many of the fascinating stories he told me that morning are the stories he tells on the official tours. This is one unique tour I think well worthwhile. (For Columbarium information, see this listing.)
So, if you do happen to ever find yourself at the Columbarium, on the tour or perhaps visiting a friend of yours, don't forget to wave to Norman. You'll know who he is. He's one of the stories.
And I don't doubt Norman is giggling in glee somewhere over that.
Also filed under: arts + culture ; site updates
February 12, 2002
Need more coffee?
Need more coffee? Of course, you do.
Just stumbled across this spiffy article on the history of coffee:
Coffee a Historic Drink
December 27, 2001
Frog Codes of California
Random anecdote from last July:
______________________________________
Laszlo, the other day, listening to Kallisti and I plotting last minute Bastille Day preparations asked us exactly what Bastille Day was about.
"It's the equivalent of their Independence Day," we said.
"From whom?"
"From themselves. They basically massacred themselves."
To which he replied, "It's illegal to kill frogs with a gun in California, you know."
Whether THAT was a non-sequitur or an oblique attempt at a pun, I'll leave up to debate. But we laughed.. He said he had the statutes handy. We said, "email us them." So, he did.
We laughed uneasily at some of these, wondering what frog-horrors once happened to cause lawmakers to make some of the more specific points in legislating these particular human-frog interactions.
Anyway, for perverse, quite perverse, amusement, the frog codes of California:
.............................................................................................................................
There are other laws that mention frogs, but these are the biggies - Laszlo
.............................................................................................................................
Notice Section 6854
"FISH AND GAME CODE"
6850. As used in this article, "frog" means all species of frog.
6851. Except as otherwise provided in this code or in regulations
adopted by the commission, it is unlawful to take or possess any frog
for commercial purposes. This article does not apply to frogs grown
pursuant to Division 12 (commencing with Section 15000).
6852. Any person who conducts a place of business where frogs are sold
to the public for food, or who takes or possesses frogs for sale to, or
for use by, educational or scientific institutions for scientific
purposes, may possess only at the place of business any number of frogs
which have been legally obtained pursuant to this code or regulations
adopted by the commission.
6854. It is unlawful to take frogs by the use of firearms of any
caliber or type.
[Bat note: We are currently debating here where this law might have originated. While at first glance, it seems to reasonably say "don't shoot frogs, you moron," a more thorough perusal of the sentence notes how ambiguously the sentence is constructed, and we now wonder if there was at one time a rash of frogs being taken by gunpoint, and this is really an Anti Frog-Hijacking Law.]
6855. The department may issue a permit to take and dispose of frogs
under such limitations as the commission may prescribe, when, in the
judgment of the department, such frogs are polluting the water supply in
any area, or otherwise constitute a nuisance.
6880. As used in this article, "frog-jumping contest" means a contest
generally and popularly known as a frog-jumping contest which is open to
the public and is advertised or announced in a newspaper.
6881. Frogs to be used in frog-jumping contests shall be governed by
this article only. Frogs to be so used may be taken at any time and
without a license or permit.
6882. If the means used for taking such frogs can, as normally used,
seriously injure the frog, it shall be conclusively presumed the taking
is not for the purposes of a frog-jumping contest.
6883. Any person may possess any number of live frogs to use in
frog-jumping contests, but if such a frog dies or is killed, it must be
destroyed as soon as possible, and may not be eaten or otherwise used
for any purpose.
6884. A frog which is not kept in a manner which is reasonable to
preserve its life is not within the coverage of this article.
6885. The commission has no power to modify the provisions of this
article by any order, rule, or regulation.
