Like, wow: Jack Kerouac's 30 Cool Tips for writers. They're not very practical (neither was Kerouac), but they have a subversive, Gertrude Stein-like quality that just might put you in the mood to write.
"You're a genius all the time."
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Drivel
Artist's Lament
His painting finished, he bathes in turpentine until the blues dissolve. Is it good or bad or nothing at all? Outside, he walks in a fog, where the trees resemble a smudged pencil sketch. Not knowing anyone here, hating or loving no one, he calls to the trees for advice. Are they not full of wisdom, full of history coiled in their many rings? The doves coo in the leaves, but reveal nothing.
His painting finished, he bathes in turpentine until the blues dissolve. Is it good or bad or nothing at all? Outside, he walks in a fog, where the trees resemble a smudged pencil sketch. Not knowing anyone here, hating or loving no one, he calls to the trees for advice. Are they not full of wisdom, full of history coiled in their many rings? The doves coo in the leaves, but reveal nothing.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
The T & T List
popcorn
Uganda
Neilsen Media Research
Then We Came to the End
David Carradine
zombies
Jane Austen
#9 Dream
Ithaca
AIM
orchid
metadata
Strattera
Buster Keaton
Uganda
Neilsen Media Research
Then We Came to the End
David Carradine
zombies
Jane Austen
#9 Dream
Ithaca
AIM
orchid
metadata
Strattera
Buster Keaton
Monday, May 11, 2009
Word of the Day: penetralia
penetralia (n)
The innermost parts of a structure, especially a temple sanctuary; the most private or secret part of something.
"'True,' answered my wife. "And in that sense we are a mystery to our neighbors.'
'Doubtless we are,' said I. 'Doubtless there have been questions asked about us many times which none answered satisfactorily, and which still remain as unsolved problems. There is a penetralia in every family.'"
--Timothy Shay Arthur, Our Neighbors in the Corner House
I wish my neighbors were more of a mystery. Last weekend we were treated to both their barking dog, who glared down at us from their elevated back deck as we puttered around in the yard, and a loud 1950s rock-and-roll concert from their open windows. Wop bop a loo bop a lop bam boom!
The innermost parts of a structure, especially a temple sanctuary; the most private or secret part of something.
"'True,' answered my wife. "And in that sense we are a mystery to our neighbors.'
'Doubtless we are,' said I. 'Doubtless there have been questions asked about us many times which none answered satisfactorily, and which still remain as unsolved problems. There is a penetralia in every family.'"
--Timothy Shay Arthur, Our Neighbors in the Corner House
I wish my neighbors were more of a mystery. Last weekend we were treated to both their barking dog, who glared down at us from their elevated back deck as we puttered around in the yard, and a loud 1950s rock-and-roll concert from their open windows. Wop bop a loo bop a lop bam boom!
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Secret Headquarters...
...of The Order of Psionic Cerebrovillains and Mysterious Quasininjas, Local 546
(Click to blow up)
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Scare Yourself Silly
I've never liked clowns, and I was terrified of them as a kid. Something about their unpredictable antics made (makes) me uneasy. The Evil Clown Generator is fun, though--maybe because I get to have some control over what happens on screen. You can click on buttons to change the jester's facial features, or just hold your cursor over eyes, nose or mouth to see a rapid-fire series of different evil/funny expressions.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
The Complete Idiot's Guide to the Way I Feel
I finally figured out what to say to the Spanish-speaking woman who keeps calling me and asking for "Maria". I said "numero incorrecto", and instead of mumbling "uh? uh?" as she usually does when I say "wrong number" in English, she slammed down the phone. Felt pleased.... It's raining. Again. Feel exasperated.... We ate lunch at a soul food/health food restaurant in Newark today. Felt like "the white people," a little, but the food was good. I had the East Mississippi (fish) sandwich.... Watched Lost tonight. As usual, felt mystified - not a bad feeling, necessarily, if it's combined with entertainment. Just wondering how exploding a hydrogen bomb is going to solve anything....
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Word of the Day: octothorpe
octothorpe (n)
The name for the telephone keypad symbol #
"It was a slow day at the pet store, and as the birds screamed and the puppies squealed, Sebastion stared at the telephone keypad, hoping that Fatima would call. Pound symbol or octothorpe? Which was correct? In the end, did it matter?"
--Hector Del Rio, Under the Overpass
Someone has been calling me daily on my cell phone and asking, in Spanish, for "Maria." No habla español. How do you say "wrong number" in Spanish? "Numero incorrecto"? All I can think of to say is "no hay banda."
The name for the telephone keypad symbol #
"It was a slow day at the pet store, and as the birds screamed and the puppies squealed, Sebastion stared at the telephone keypad, hoping that Fatima would call. Pound symbol or octothorpe? Which was correct? In the end, did it matter?"
--Hector Del Rio, Under the Overpass
Someone has been calling me daily on my cell phone and asking, in Spanish, for "Maria." No habla español. How do you say "wrong number" in Spanish? "Numero incorrecto"? All I can think of to say is "no hay banda."
Monday, May 04, 2009
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Weekend Netflix Report: Youth Without Youth
Youth Without Youth (2007)
We like to think there is a sharp distinction between what happens in the "real world" and what happens inside our heads. Some of the most interesting (to me) films of the last few years have called this bedrock assumption into question. Youth Without Youth is one of them. Francis Ford Coppola explores Lynchian territory with this one, creating the same sort of unsolvable conundrums -- if we're to take what we see on the screen literally -- that Inland Empire does.
[SPOILERS AHEAD] An aged (70ish) Romanian linguistics professor (Tim Roth) is struck by lightning in 1938, and when he recovers, he's physically 30 years younger. As Europe falls, the Nazis take an ominous interest in him, and he's forced to change his identity and go into hiding. Over the next 30 years, he appears not to age a day. He pursues his linguistics studies but never manages to complete the book he's working on. He meets doppelgangers of himself and a woman he once loved, who died in 19th century. In the end, he returns to Romania, and suddenly it's 1938 again and he resumes his normal age. In the final scene, we see his wizened corpse lying in the street -- as a miniskirted woman (circa 1969) walks by.
No, it's not "all a dream" of a dying man, since many future historical events (Hiroshima, the moon landing) are referenced, accurately, along the way. Just as with Inland Empire, there's no way to make logical sense of the story. I tend to think that this sort of plot works better on the printed page (in a Philip K. Dick novel, for example) than in the photographic realism of the movie screen -- and this film is, in fact, based on a novella by Mircea Eliade. But I'm a sucker for movies that make me think. I'm not sorry I watched this, though I wouldn't recommend it as mere entertainment. Roth is fine. The direction and cinematography are up to Coppola standards, though a few of his choices seem overly mannered -- several shots are presented upside down (perhaps a clue that what we're seeing is a "reflection" of reality?)
We like to think there is a sharp distinction between what happens in the "real world" and what happens inside our heads. Some of the most interesting (to me) films of the last few years have called this bedrock assumption into question. Youth Without Youth is one of them. Francis Ford Coppola explores Lynchian territory with this one, creating the same sort of unsolvable conundrums -- if we're to take what we see on the screen literally -- that Inland Empire does.
[SPOILERS AHEAD] An aged (70ish) Romanian linguistics professor (Tim Roth) is struck by lightning in 1938, and when he recovers, he's physically 30 years younger. As Europe falls, the Nazis take an ominous interest in him, and he's forced to change his identity and go into hiding. Over the next 30 years, he appears not to age a day. He pursues his linguistics studies but never manages to complete the book he's working on. He meets doppelgangers of himself and a woman he once loved, who died in 19th century. In the end, he returns to Romania, and suddenly it's 1938 again and he resumes his normal age. In the final scene, we see his wizened corpse lying in the street -- as a miniskirted woman (circa 1969) walks by.
No, it's not "all a dream" of a dying man, since many future historical events (Hiroshima, the moon landing) are referenced, accurately, along the way. Just as with Inland Empire, there's no way to make logical sense of the story. I tend to think that this sort of plot works better on the printed page (in a Philip K. Dick novel, for example) than in the photographic realism of the movie screen -- and this film is, in fact, based on a novella by Mircea Eliade. But I'm a sucker for movies that make me think. I'm not sorry I watched this, though I wouldn't recommend it as mere entertainment. Roth is fine. The direction and cinematography are up to Coppola standards, though a few of his choices seem overly mannered -- several shots are presented upside down (perhaps a clue that what we're seeing is a "reflection" of reality?)
AlienNation
In the mood for some arty Flash animations and experimental music? Hurry on over to:
Modern Living
Creepy, alienated and existential, but with a twist of humor--this is some inspired lunacy.
Modern Living
Creepy, alienated and existential, but with a twist of humor--this is some inspired lunacy.
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