Harlan: I am not a coffee drinker. I like the taste, but it upsets my stomach and causes 5 hour long jittery sessions that drive me mad (I'm a tea man). However, I found your recipe in the Hornbook for Cafe' Ellison Diabolique and found it intriguing! I shall investigate this concoction and report back what I think.
Justin: at the risk of pissing off some fellow board members here (and at the equal risk of lumping all fraternities into the same cookie cutter view), I would advise NOT to join one. I truly, truly, truly think that you can come up with a better way to spend your time. Something that can combine something social with something for your career (Jospeh's advice seems to be on the right track, if that is what you are shooting for). To be honest, I probably would have said the same thing about joining ROTC, but as Harlan says, you seem to have found something there. But I think it would be a mistake to do BOTH of these things.
David: ahhhh, so THAT'S why the rat bastard stole my copy! It was one of those rare duplicated page copies worth gazillions! Heh heh...
I hate to interrupt the preceding story, but after somewhat casually glancing at Harlan's ravings, he said out of print titles could be gotten (had? received? appropriated? fucking bought, you know what I'm asking so don't give me no shit 'bout my fuckin' grammar. Sir. Mr. Ellison, sir.).
Anyway, at the risk of stepping even more deeply into shit I can't get out of, does one have to be a member of HERC (of which I have the form and am sending it in once I convince my wife that it is a noble cause) to receive notification of books for sale from the source? I mean, I guess I could goto a used online bookstore or Amazon for the Essential Ellison, but if there is a way for me to order directly from the burning bush let me know. And I will be sending in the HERC form, anyway.
And just to show it's not all about me, I have an opinion on fraternities. Actually, my opinion is no opinion on fraternities though I am kinda partial to sororities, especially the ones whose members include cheerleaders.
Heather,
A) Love the shark story. Nice and tight.
B) Tongue like an ice-pick is a nice metaphor.
Harlan,
No, man! You da'bomb!
Anyhoo, I have read your essays on your experience with the Ohio State fraternity (and I believe there is also a Voice From The Edge column where you talk about speaking at Ohio State and feeling shriven from those old memories). There were fraternities on my old college campus that had their own abuses, and I was pleased to see just how quickly both the college and their national organizations cracked down on stupid, abusive and childlike behavior.
Personally, I think what improvements have been made in fraternities and sororities can also be attributed to it being much less acceptable to discriminate against classes and ethnic groups. It's certainly still out there, but now you have organizations that are much more diverse than they would have been even 30 years ago.
Regards,
Joseph (My, aren't I optimistic today?)
(Culled from a deep, dark file. So shoot me.)
Title: A Fish Tale
I was out in the lake this summer. The water was cool and green and dark. Not many swim in this lake. There's been lately rumors of a shark.
I was floating on my back, kicking my feet slowly in circles when I felt the water swarming against me in the opposite direction to just a moment ago.
I brought my head up off the water and found myself nose to nose at fifty feet with a shark. He had a pursed expression on his lips and his eyes were squinted.
"Didn't anybody ever tell you to watch out for man-eating sharks?" he said. I gulped, getting a bit of water in my throat and coughing.
"Nice DAY, eh? That sun feels nice on my back. You here on vacation?" His voice was surprisingly soft and warm like a buttery hard candy.
All I could do was stare. I'd seen "Jaws." I'd watched wildlife documentaries. I'd seen what harm a shark could do.
"Actually, "Jaws" WAS just a movie. Any premise, no matter how wild, that makes for boffo box office...welllll.. need I say more? And you know a lot of the story lines in those animal shows, are PURE editing. I've heard they'll even flop images to get the proper story-line. You mustn't believe everything you hear and see, ya know." He seemed to be able to read my thoughts.
"Well, you know, you humans haven't cornered the market on communications. I can transmit messages by waving my tail."
"You're.. you're very astute..." I managed.
"For a shark? Is that what you were going to say? There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, then are dreamt of in your philosophy."
"You know Shakespeare?"
"Well, lots of people round here do a lot of reading to pass the time. I pick up an idea or two, here and there."
"Amazing."
"What's so amazing? All ya do is listen. It's all out there. And nobody's cornered the market yet. So all you gotta do is keep the water out of your ears."
"True, " I said, feeling somewhat more relaxed now.
"By the same token," smiled the shark slyly. "Life is what you expect it to be."
And he ate me.
Title: What did you want?
This time he didn't care if she had a list or not. He just wanted her back. He drove downtown and parked on the seventh floor of the parking structure, crossing a yellow line and using two spaces. Slamming the car door, he listened to the sound echo in the dark, pot-holed lot. Damn her. He felt so sad and small, a stranger to this city. Across the street, the neon orange and blue sign "Larry's Pawn Shop, Buy Cheap, Sell Cheap" blinked mockingly at him. Entering the store, he nodded a mute hello to the bleach blonde punk kid at the front register. He breezed to the jewelry counter.
"This will fix everything," he muttered, nervously running an index index finger over the glass of the ring display. "This will make her happy." God, why isn't she ever happy? Always complaining about something, with a tongue like an ice pick. Lately, he'd stopped trying to argue
with her. He just eyed the television dimly and tuned her out, nodding the occasional, "uh-huh."
"What the hell am I doing?" he snapped.
"Sorry, sir? What did you say?" asked the punk kid.
"Oh, nothing, nothing. I'm just talking to myself," he replied, feeling a bit stupid.
His panic receeded as quickly as it had come.
"Desperate times means desperate measures," he sighed. Besides, his mom thought she was a dream girl.
"What the hell.. hey, kid.. show me this ring, will ya?"
CORRECTION TO PREVIOUS CORRECTION:
(Migawd, where does this self-abnegation end?!?!)
I went back and read Mitch's remarks. Yes, I was impressed by THEM as well as Joseph Finn's. Both postings seemed smart and helpful.
CORRECTION TO PREVIOUS POST: It was Joseph Finn's comments on fraternities that I thought estimably notable. Not Mitch's. Which is not to say that Mitch wasn't ALSO a fount of ineffable wisdom, except I'll be damned if I can even remember what he wrote. Nonetheless, I miswrote myself. Finn d'bomb!
Redactively, HE
Rob: If, in fact, I were having even the most minuscule salutary effect on your grammar and spelling, you would have known the correct way to present Mary Shelley's name properly. Ah me (sigh). My life is a hideous rigadoon. Where did I go wrong with these chillun, lawd? Where, oh (sigh) where?
(This Guilt Trip has been brought to you through the auspices of the International Zionist Yiddish Jewish Money Conspiracy, a wholly-owned subsidiary of The Chosen People who, cleverly, INVENTED guilt more than 5000 years ago, otherwise you bothersome but relentless goyim would have wiped us out.)
Justin: In one of my books of essays--I think it's the HORNBOOK but maybe one of the others--I wrote an essay on the fraternity to which I belonged for one dreadful semester at Ohio State. ZBT. There may be more than one essay, in fact. There's the one about Don Forrester nee Don Epstein, and there's one that ties into my short story "There's One on Every Campus," and there may even be a third one...to which Webderlanders, more prescient about these citations than I, can direct you.
Mitch's comments seem well-reasoned and laudably commanding of attention. But as for me, and my sojourn--brief, my son, o so brief--with the Greeks, I cup hands to mouth and shriek, RUN FER YA LIFE!!!!!!! But, as they say, mine is anecdotal info only, applies only to me, and is a horror story that would've given Lovecraft the whim-whams.
It's your life, kiddo, and you seem to have found the sunnyside of ROTC, so who the hell knows...you may be leading one of those Charmed Ones that we hear about, and every cesspool into which the rest of us fall will become the Fountain of Youth and Health Spa for Justin. I, as do my confreres here, wish you well. As always.
Yr. adoring father, Harlan
Title: Push Me Away
I have these wings, ya see. They are made of the lightest, silkiest, most translucent material you've ever seen. I take them out sometimes, to air them; I flap them a bit. For as long as I can remember, they've helped me fly to levels of light and air and imaginings beyond measure. These wings have kept me sane. Though sometimes, I forget this.
Many people are afraid of these wings. They do not have any or have tattered their own beyond hope or purpose--they grow angry at my wings.
I've spent much of my life trying to understand these people. I've even helped a few, and watched them wash the dirt of despair from their wingtips. But I've also learned (and this was the hardest lesson of all) when to let go; let them push me away; to say goodbye and leave them on their shadowed shelves.
I have some flying to do.
* * * *
I love you, Harlan.
Now just a sec; I didn't say that to scare you.
You've simply reminded me of me. You've made me realize that there's nothing wrong with the way I've led my life; and that there is someone who shares my view. Through your writing and your attitudes; you've shown me I'm on the right track. It's just time to move to a higher gear.
I've never found that an easy thing to say to someone. I think my definition of love used to involve a certain 'loss of self'; perhaps a bit of 'making do' with someone or not being completely honest with that person for fear of them saying, "I don't LIKE you, for saying this or that."
I've come to realize that "liking ME" is more important. Damn the torpedoes.
I read somewhere--probably some obscure author or other--that "love is being utterly honest, even when it's ground glass painful." This brings me to the point of all this scribbling. Go grab a beer--I'll wait.
You wrote a post on this forum where you took a jocular jab at some writers with writer's block. You've never experienced this and you laughed behind your sleeve and I chuckled. You wrote that in fun; I know that.
I also know that "any writer who can be discouraged, should be." To put a more positive spin on it, they should be encouraged towards something at which they can excel. Writing is not an occupation for the faint-hearted.
At the same time, I don't think it's fair to laugh at blocked writers. The last thing they might need is anything or anyone that smells like a fire extinguisher. (I'm reminded of a university prof who laughed at the efforts of an earnest, young writer--I wish I could have been there to hug him; and slap the smile off that idiot prof's face.)
Understanding the usual ratio of those who post, to those who lurk, on a forum, (20-80, generally) one loud laugh at a blocked or timid writer (and I know we have a few of THOSE) will ripple tenfold to the scintilla of your awareness. The internet is a very strange place; it is filled with a disproportionate amount of introverted, shy, depressed, yet incredibly creative people. In part, I think it's the anonymity that draws them. So, my dear be careful.
I have another burning issue and I'm sure your gentle readers have their ears pressed against their monitors, in eager anticipation of your thoughts on this matter.
You were in the car with Susan, 'playing' at being a maniac. She said, you scared her--badly. I don't understand this.
I would have expected through your dealings with many wives, for you to have given Susan, prior to your wedding day, the current volume of "Harlan Ellison--Care, Feeding and Mystery Moves."
I was once in the back seat of a car my younger brother was driving, when he decided to take out his anger on a passing stupid driver. Unlike you, my brother, being a mechanic and a bit of a car dude, was truly incensed. There was a quality of "passengers be damned, let's play CHICKEN" in his eyes. We were on a superhighway and I spoke loudly to him, to stop. I felt trapped, and wanted to get the hell out of the car.
You, on the other hand, were playing at this 'mad mode.' I ask you, sir, why in all the years that you've known her, would Susan NOT know this? Why would you not have even 'cued' her as in "hang on to the seatcover, honey, I'm gonna 'play' with this guy. Don't worry. I'm JUST FUNNIN'."
As you were, Ellison. I like you best, that way.
+++
P.S. (written just now)
I know you are tired. I feel helpless to help in ways that count, right now.
So I offer you my friendship. You are important to me. You are fighting a FIGHT for me. I won't forget this.
Your friend, Heather
Short clips for the morning.
(I haven't forgotten Justin's request for comments on college education, and the Harry Lime/grass huts thread kept alive by Lynn, but will comment on those separately so that this does not become an interminable post).
Frank Church: If you haven't read _Sexual Personae_, then you don't know the real Camille Paglia. I'm not saying that book will make you love her, but it will show her at her best. Forget most of the essays of the past 10 years -- she's just riffing in them, trying on ideas for size.
Brian Siano says a friend talked about how wonderful a teacher she was before she became notorious. I don't doubt it. If success has spoiled anyone, it's her. I'm afraid fame went straight to her head, she got enamored of her own cult of personality, and, having noticed that she got the most attention and mike time whenever she said something outrageous, shocking people is just about all she's ever tried to do since.
I don't AGREE with everything she says in her first book (some of it is in fact bonkers, but so is plenty of other writing I admire), which took her 20 years to find a publisher (and I suspect her mentor Harold Bloom had to twist some arms to get that to happen), but it's fascinatingly, engagingly, entertainingly, and stylishly put.
While I think she's all wet on a lot of contemporary subjects, I'm amused that Frank appears to be nonplused that Paglia refers to pornography as an art form. The Boston Globe had a front-page story just last week on college courses that study pornography. On the other hand, while I detest Dworkin and MacKinnon (and give them a good drubbing in my upcoming book), I agree with Brian that Paglia's piece on them was appallingly bad form.
Bob Sassone:
It looks like a signature was repeated in my copy of the new _Essential_: some 20 or 30 of the first pages are doubled. I'm not complaining, since nothing appears to be MISSING, and this may even automatically raise the value of my copy, but you'd think after all Ellison's suffered at the hands of publishers, the good folks at Morpheus would have been extra careful to avoid this sort of thing....
Brian and Bud:
Brian, the ugly artwork you describe was on the Signet (New American Library) edition of THE BEAST THAT SHOUTED LOVE AT THE HEART OF THE WORLD, not the Avon first edition pb. The original Avon pb edition, which was published rife with typos--and the ugly story of THAT one, involving as it does the guy who became the editor at The New Yorker, Robert Gottlieb--who gets his comeuppance in my story "The New York Review of Bird"--is too long to tell here. If you want the preferred first edition text, you have to locate the SF Book Club hardcover. Or just revel in the Edgeworks version, which is the variorum text.
Bud: I don't sign DOOMSMAN under any circumstances. But I do offer to buy the copy from anyone who presents it for personalization. I also don't sign Star Trek adaptations of my "City on the Edge of Forever." I usually sign SEX GANG with the name on the cover, "Paul Merchant." I have long since gotten over being embarrassed by that sad little paperback. After all, it's mostly just ineptly-written early stories from men's magazines. At the time, it was the sort of pseudonymous publication cobbled up for rent and food money, that I--wrongly or correctly--thought might sully my oh so precious rep...but that's a loooooong time ago, and now the book is mostly a dopey curiosity only of interest to weird guys like you.
There are probably many other "autograph line" exceptions, but I can't think of them right now. You pays your money, and you takes your chances.
But I'll tell you this: if some bookdealer, too busy tending his table in the hucksters' room to bring my books to me for signing himself, duplicitly dispatches his "mule" of a son, or wife, or gofer to appear before me with three copies, already in Brodart bookcovers, of LOVE AIN'T NOTHING BUT SEX MISSPELLED, and a shopping bag full of lesser titles and paperbacks, under the pretense that the indentured servant is actually someone who may have read a random paragraph of Ellisonia in his/her life, and the blank-eyed native bearer stands before me, as they ALWAYS do (because they have no more idea of who I am or what I've written than a centipede has of the merits of Dr. Scholl's Zino-Pads), waiting for me to take fifteen minutes or more to sign every item so the huckster can raise the prices, while honest readers twiddle their toes waiting for this egregious imposition to pass on . . . try not to be in the vicinity. Gobbets of sodden human flesh make unusually repellent projectiles. (On occasion I've taken the child by the ear, led him back to the bibliomerchant Fagin who sent him as stalking horse, and give that merchant shithead a tongue-lashing at 180 decibels that will keep all customers away from his booth for several hours. Add insult to injury, of course, with the knowledge that though this poltroon and his minion manifest no shame or chagrin at holding up a long line of people who are legitimately waiting for an inscription in a book they've just bought, the dealer will not have authorized the kid, or his wife, or his rain man to have bought the title for which the signing line was created. They just lurch into the line with their stacks and bags, and expect me to sit there and work in their behalf, without so much as suggesting that in return for all these autographs I might care to come to the booth and select something -I- might need. And I keep the books till the convention is over, before I return them, unsigned, to the creep. I'll sign pretty much anything for a genuine reader, no matter how long it takes--as those of you who've been in my two-hour-long lines will attest--even if I'm exhausted or sick--but greEdy dealers already rip off my readers and collectors with their venal prices (which is certainly one of the reasons we sell my out-of-print titles here), and I'll be damned if I'll help them.
Beyond these comments, Bud, this is a subject I'd as lief keep private.
Yr. pal, Harlan
FAQ:
I doubt very much that anything was posted here supporting your belief that the film SOLDIER, starring Kurt Russell, written by the estimable, Oscar-winning scenarist of UNFORGIVEN, David Webb Peoples, had anything whatever to do with me, or my Outer Limits script, "Soldier," or even the original novelette of that title.
You are doing some slovenly remembering.
TERMINATOR, directed by James Cameron, was a ripoff from that script, but I won an out-of-court settlement, and my name appears at the endcredits of every videocassette and DVD.
The Peoples script merely shared the word "soldier." The film had nothing to do with me or my story, which even a casual screening of them would attest.
This has been the 6582nd this year of internet misinformation resulting from sloppy attention and not taking advantage of the "vast information storage and retrieval potential of the web." Yeah, sure; and I've got a panda farm up my ass for lease or purchase. One discovers, sadly, that people who wouldn't walk down the street to get the correct data from the library, are just as lackadaisical about seaching out the answers to their idle curiosities before throwing them into the electro-wind. They are woefully ignorant of the information available, and settle for muddy recollection and instant verbal diffusion of the false data. Thus do rumors and bad bibliographies come into existence.
Respectfully, Harlan Ellison.
Justin,
Just my two cents about fraternities and sororities:
There's a huge world of difference between the social fraternities and those that exist as professional and service organizations. The social ones may seem fun, but they obviosuyl don't have a point besides companionship. The professional ones provide a convenient networking for your particular career, and the service organizations obviously provide communities with some sort of help.
As for the hazing: even the social fraternities national organizations will come down on a chapter with the hammer of God if they catch wind of hazing going on. The threat of lawsuits and losses of charter (and the legitimate recognition that hazing is a dumbass move) have made them nice and vigilant (or as much as they can be).
My advice? See if yout campus has a fraternity that actually does something (besides throwing a pig roast where the proceeds go to the local food bank), or if there is a fraternity thta fits your career goals.
Regards,
Joseph (Phi Mu Alpha Sinfonia, Professional Music Fraternity)
Shaddup! (That's before ya can say it). I mean "diuresis for daily stress". Yeah, that's right, as in likening stress to increased discharges of urine; NOT like dieresis, which is, I think, the accent with two dotties you put over a vowel to separate it from another vowel. I did NOT check my typing before hitting the 'SEND' button 'cause it's late.
Editor's spelling proof officially submitted.
Y'see how manic Prof. Harlan has gotten us all?
Dropping in for a quick one here at my favorite all-night dive; it’s kind of like a dieresis for daily stress. I only hope it has better effect on me than it does on those off-duty cops who get smashed and then run down families when active again (and to think I never even knew about this pastime of theirs until this last week).
Mark Zug:
At LAST, I managed to scare SOMEONE 'sides just myself. Since you raised the matter, not that I'm trying to make myself look bad here, but I’d only noticed recently that whenever I go through bad times with a girl there seems to be corresponding increased viewing time on my part watching movies about psychos...from Claude Raines as the Invisible Man to Alex in Clockwork Orange; from ol’ Jack in The Shining to Terry O’Quinn in the Stepfather (I seem to have a thing particularly for nut-cases who go around laughing maniacally for absolutely no goddamn reason). The only matter here that might concern me is the frequency these movies seem to run on my VCR. It MIGHT explain a few things; some desensitizing and conditioning escaping my notice. Perhaps it’s time to give my social life a face lift.
Now, to keep the thread consistent, my ex-girlfriend and I (we’re still on the "fer now we’re pals" arrangement) went to MY second viewing of ‘The Others’ (so that I could actually see it from the start this time). On the whole its evocative power does just fine; two worlds are beautifully created, etching the boundaries of isolation and lost identity. We both left the theater thinking about those melancholy themes.
On another front this weekend, I rented what was originally a tv-movie in the 70’s. Some of you here may remember 'Frankenstein: The True Story' (I met the director once, which was fun...despite misgivings about the gentleman Ray Bradbury justifiably had about his earlier filmed treatment of 'The Illustrated Man'). I originally saw it when I was around eight. For tv - or even a theatrical release - it was a DAMN graphic experience; some of the goriest scenes ever for the time. It was written (or co-written) by novelist Christopher Isherwood. In spite of his credit, it does jump between literacy and implausible scenes of camp violence (some of which ARE fun, anyway): it owes as much to the old Hammer movies as it does to Shelly’s novel. But on the whole it’s a fascinating version. TV movies were well-made at that time. ( David McCallum and Tom Baker from Dr. Who were among the cast).
So how do I rate on the scare scale now? OK, I mean Harlan aside.
Nice to get praise for taking Harlan's note in stride.
Well, what else was I gonna do? Complain? Argue back? Nahh. I've been reading Harlan for years, and I figure, if I'm trading notes in his presence, sooner or later I'll trip a wire and body parts shall fly in a noisy spectacle. As long as it's not _personal_, or really malicious, I can't take offense. But I'll try even harder to keep the grammar clean and the spelling solid, and "off of" shall not pass through my fingertips again. (He _is_ right, after all.)
Re: Bud Webster's question about certain Ellison books. Bud, you referred to an Avon paperback of _Beast..._ Is that the one with the black background, and the quasi-Giger-like skull machine artwork? (BTW, I have that Winokur book, too.)
And one last item. Worldcon's in Philly this weekend. Perhaps some of us could grab a meal together and trade Harlan stories? I could start scouting for a decent venue near the convention center, if people have specific dietary requests.
Justin - I can't speak for all fraternities, only for my own experience. I went to Stevens (a small engineering college), and pledged Alpha Sigma Phi my freshman year. It wasn't because of an overwhelming need to belong, or because I fit their "profile". The house I pledged was a bunch of friendly, laid-back guys with a variety of interests.
It became a home away from home. The chapter house was cheaper than the dorms. We helped each other with classes, volunteered, threw parties, and went rafting in the summer. No one was forced to drink, or do anything dangerous. I had friends outside the fraternity, so it wasn't insular.
I know there are still reports of hazing tragedies, and alot of people point disdainfully at movies like "Animal House" (though "School Daze" paints a more frightening picture), but that's not what it was like for me. It's a decision I've never regretted.
Mitch
Justin: I have a simple solution to your pool problems: sodium. Lots and lots of sodium. "Violent" was the word my chemistry teacher used in describing the reaction between that substance and water, and, coincidentally, "violent" is the only adjective (other than "nuclear") that can describe a truly productive encounter with some of those party brats. I say this not to try to sound "cool" or rebellious, but because a lot of those twits are, as you probably know, too drunk to understand anything less than horrible, horrible chemical burns.
Which is why, sir, I recommend you shun fraternities and make as many chemistry major friends as possible. Besides, fraternities seem overrated anyhow: they seem to have a lot in common with the average labor union, only instead of having a skill or trade in common, members enjoy cramming a strip of toilet paper up another member's ass, setting the end alight, and laughing like drunken hyenas while the unfortunate victim runs around screaming.
Finally, Justin, before you lose all interest in this post and scroll to the next--I hate to drag the putrid hunk of worm-eaten carrion that is this topic back into the light, but while the University does have a journalism program, word is (or was) that it was being slowly phased out. Am I hearing things?
~Jeff
p.s. Don't think I failed to notice that Harlan didn't reward my smartass "off of" post with the same orifice-ripping that he distributed to Brian. Heavens, I feel as though I escaped a firing squad.
p.p.s. Hi Michael, you glorious, lurking bastard.
J
So I walk outside this morning, and what do I see strewn around at the bottom of my stairway? A multitude of cigarette butts! At least two dozen! I'm assuming they were thrown there during last night's festivities. My apartment is located near the entrance to the pool/courtyard area, where most of the partying goes on, and revelers are frequently to be found milling around outside my place before moving on and jumping into the pool, drunker than a bunch of underage skunks.
How it somehow fails to occur to a human being that maybe that kind of behavior is perhaps a smidgeypoo unwise--that it falls somewhere between walking into a closed screen door and crossing Harlan Ellison--is far beyond the realm of my meager comprehension skills. Anyway, the underage little drunks had never used my staircase as an ashtray until last night, and they had just better hope I don’t catch them at it again.
See, this isn’t just my staircase, this is also Courtney’s (she in charge of Cute Blonde Neighbor duties). As the MAN up here, it is my duty to see to it that this sort of behavior is rewarded with a good throttling. I don't know about the rest of you, but I've just about had it up to here. I was not under the impression that courtesy was horribly difficult to cultivate.
Moving on:
"So, uh, what do you folks think of fraternities," he asks casually, just out of curiosity.
J
Harlan, as a bookseller and collector of Ellsionia (I recently picked up an obscure little books called _A Curmudgeon's Garden of Love, compiled by Jon Winokur, with a piece by you in it), I'm frequently confronted by people who have mistaken impressions about your willingness or unwillingness to sign certain editions of your books.
As a way of forestalling wrong-headed speculation, and by way of arming myself with information straight from the horse's mouth in order to authoritatively correct this wrong-headedness, may I ask you what, exactly, your SOP is when asked to sign a) either of the Belmont _Doomsman_ issues, b) the original Avon _Beast..._, c) the Paul Merchant book, and/or c) any other book with which you've had an issue?
(I recall vividly when Grant Thiessen wrote me asking if I knew of the book Leslie Swigart DIDN'T list in the 1st edition of her biblio; I indicated to him that you'd made it clear that you didn't particularly want that information bruited about publicly. He found out from someone else and "outed" you, and as much as I appreciated and benefitted from his work in indexing and bibliography, it was a good while before I could respect him again. I knew because I'd seen a copy at a friend's home, but I've never seen another one and don't own one.)
I recently had the misfortune to watch 'Soldier', the Kurt Russell film thats is probably the most expensive straight to video film ever to be released in the UK.
Anyway, I remember reading the credits to look for Harlan's name and to see what his credit actually is. No luck there.
I know that some financial transaction took place concerning HE's original story (it was reported on this webpage) but what, if anything, did it have to do with the final film?
Any revelations?
Thanks.
FAQ
For those of you who Haven't Made the Connection:
The Mark Zug whose posting precedes this one, is the very same Mark Zug who did the exquisite, the breathtaking, the Brandywine-influenced paintings that enriched my book, I,ROBOT: The Illustrated Screenplay. (If you don't have a copy, well, we sell 'em; and if for no other reason, Mark's artwork is worth the price at thrice the price.)
Mark Zug is a youngish man of such enormous artistic ability, that I was truly and literally without speech, speechless, when the first of his paintings for I,ROBOT came in.
Welcome to the playpen, Mark. You'll like these people a lot. As you so cogently noted, even when I bare my fangs--as with Brian Siano--they properly pay me as litle attention as I deserve, and they take from my epiplectic (not epileptic, plz. note) fulminations only that which is of value. The noise-to-signal ratio is automatically interdicted--unlike the m.o. at other websites, I'm given to understand--and everyone moves on, whistling a jaunty tune.
As for crowing that I've joined the webhead walking dead, just because I appear here from nonce to nonce, well, that will only spook me. Don't even float that caracle, kiddo, lest I vanish with the morning dew. It's traumatic enough for me that I'm here at all; and meaning no offense, because y'all know ah loves ya, but I'm here atall atall because I got tired of hearing myself, at the deposition in the AOL/RemarQ lawsuit, sounding like a shambling pithecanthropoid because I didn't know what an ISP is, or how to "defragment" a hard-drive. I reluctantly dipped a tentative baby-toe into the tepid Tiber of the internet, to familiarize myself. But when I want to write, a story or a letter, I return for 99.9877555321% of the time to my beloved Olympias. This place, with all due respect, holds me and compells me to return, not because I find the medium of any sucor or enchantment, but because I've come to very much like the goons who hang out on this ectothermically electronic streetcorner. You don't see me anywhere else, do you?
So while I twitch at your cackle, Zug, I am pleased as punch to have yourself here. Good friends are always welcome. Welcome: Extraordinary artists need no visas.
Yr. pal, Harlan.
A newbie posts, then departs, overwhelmed and desirous of return
Well, well. Harlan Ellison with a computer. Harlan Ellison ONLINE...
Excuse please, allow me to introduce myself: I'm Mark and one week ago I discovered this little miracle of a bulletin board, when I surfed over to see what HE might be up to lately. And BY JEEZUZ he's playing gin-rummy with Satan, all grins and cigar ashes and green eyeshade. Welcome to Cyberspace, Harlan.
So unfortunate, my having to leave straightaway (for Gencon U.K. in London), as I was anticipating throwing in my hat in as grand a manner as my modest prose and even modester well-readedness (eeahhgh!) can muster. But it took me so long to scroll decently up-to-date that I can only toss me hat up at a coupla high points:
Heather, you made such a graceful entrance here, where your run-in with Rob the garbage man unfolded in my mind with comic visuality. I've saved your story of Shaun Tay and the Loser of the Post: freakin' charming. And little did I know that, upon getting to know Rob, those can-manhandling deltoids would reveal a darker secret: that he is some sorta kung-fu freako vigilante with a thing about everyday bullies -- uh... in trouble already? Just making light, Rob; more loquacious and well-read than I you definitely are, and besides I'm kinda afraid of you.
I find the humanity and limpid-quarry patience of the participants here amazing. Brian Siano, I would be a trembling, spirit-whipped dog after receiving such a rebuke from the Man Himself; but you kept on contributing cheerfully, keel in the water, while expressing fitting disappointment. Amazing. Though Harlan IS right...
Which brings me to Harlan. My friend. You have found a medium so perfect it's dangerous. You get to smooge in nearly-real time with hungry-minded individuals around the globe by whacking an instrument passing similar to your typewriter. Beware. Please continue writing. This place has devoured lesser souls (says the hobbit to the mighty warrior's shins), and for all the incredibly sweet reasons I before mentioned. That said, please don't go away!
And I've gone on far longer than I wanted. Kudos to all of you at the round table; and ring-finger kisses to the Man and the Garden-Variety Goddess, as I stoop, leaving, backwards.
Mark Zug
Susan~
If you need help with anything mundane such as envelope stuffing, filing, copying, data entry, gofer shit like that, please keep in mind I'm local and more than willing to help with hands and eyes and a set of wheels. I can only imagine how much stress and bullshit this whole thing has put your family through, and tho' I can't offer much, I can offer a helping hand.
I spent last night walking pretty much, waiting for a friend to get off work from the Laurelgrove Theatre. I chuckle to notice that in a half block radius there are four java joints (Starbuck's, Peet's, Seattle's Best, and Coffee Bean). I ate dinner at Art's (and gazed upon the WALL OF MEAT, listening to my heart slow at the very sight). I poked my nose in the Bookstar/Barnes & Noble. I ended up sitting down in that little plaza, watching the crowd, listening to occassional squeal of tires and the thunder of Harleys and Indians. I imagined that they were taking the back way over the hill. Getting bored with watching parents shepherding children up the escalator to the CPK, I eventually moved back up the patio in front of the theatre and found myself enjoying a nice little conversation with the two gentlemen who own and run the theatre (both member's of the Director's Guild, I gathered). They were talking about the runs through the end of the year (when their lease is up and the status of the theatre moves into flux). The conversation turned to running a comedy show or something related to the holiday spirit, but not another wretched Miracle of 34th Street or It's a Wonderful Life.
A very dark and twisted one thought occurred to me. I wondered if Nackles (even with the stairs and storeys bit) could be adapted for the stage or if Harlan might even consider the possibility. Now, in the morning's light the idea doesn't seem to hold as much potential as it did the night before (what hair-brained schemes ever do), but I thought it couldn't hurt to ask. And even though the theatre is not-for-profit, it might be good exposure for KICK and possibly even net some income.
My thoughts are with you and yours,
L.
This may not be directly applicable to Harlan's efforts, but readers may want to check out the website of the National Writers' Union for more information regarding electronic rights, copyright, and the efforts of writers to protect their work and their livelihoods.
http://www.nwu.org/
In the meantime, Philip, it's worth clicking on that "Help Harlan Stop Internet Piracy!" link that appears at the top of this message page. From there, you'll find Harlan's statement on the matter, information about the case from his attorney, and links to a forum section where these matters are discussed.
Granted, I have lots of questions doubts, fatalistic expectations, and maybe even some suggestions that seem neat and workable to _me _in my ignorance. This message page is a social venue, and it doesn't feel appropriate to bring them up here. So, if anyone can share some URLs where the issues are discussed in more comprehensive detail I'd be grateful.
Mr. Shropshire:
I feel no need or desire to insult or berate you. You can say whatever you like. I frequently find myself athwart the mainstream of opinion. To be perfectly candid, I have been in this fight for more than eighteen months now, it has cleaned me out to the tune of more than $133,000 so far, and forced me to publicly beg for assistance--because others whose oxen are being gored are either too timid or too locked into their procedures or already making a small buck off piracy to afford any financial assistance (though they all pat me on the back and assure me they're "closely watching" my efforts because I'm "on the side of the angels" in attempting to bring basic common copyright protection to the out-of-control internet)--and your comments indicate only that with all the information available on this case, here and elsewhere, you are, pardon my use of the word, woefully and apparently obstinately ignorant of what's going on. I know you mean me well, but you are akin to the guy who arrives at the town meeting half an hour late, after everybody has exhaustively discussed that great green many-tentacled monster that swallowed the bus full of grade school kids, and you pop in, raise your hand, and demand to know what's going to be done about the giant mound of redolent regurgitated kiddie parts out on Main Street.
Frankly, sir, I'm just too damned tired, and things are too damned tough right now, for me to take the time to educate you. We are up against at least three 800-lb. gorillas, one of which is the ruthless beltway legal firm of Latham & Watkins, who represent clients whose cards cannot take the hand, but who simply raise the ante again and again, trying to "buy the pot," instead of perceiving that policing the net benefits THEM, also.
And again, to be honest about it, if you'd offered a buck to the cause, and wanted to know more, I'd feel more inclined to spend a week trying to bring you up to speed. But as my friend Tony Isabella put it, in one of the great quotations of all time:
"Hell hath no fury like that of the uninvolved."
If I have been less than courteous, I am genuinely apologetic. Just tired, sir. Just fucking tired.
Respectfully, Harlan Ellison.
First, let me say that I'm a huge fan of Harlan's and I probably own everything that he's ever written, including a lot of his crappy stuff that he wrote in the late 50s and the early 60s. I treasure it all. My fave Harlan books are the Dangerous Visions anthologies (Please, I beg of you, complete that third one..) The two glass teat books and Deathbird Stories. I also deeply miss his appearances on the sci fi channel where he was the best thing about that news show of theirs, which they cancelled and replaced briefly with the body from DS9 and then that was promptly cancelled...I don't get it. I get the sneaky suspicion that Harlan's rant about Disney caused the great dissappearance but that's only because I'm paranoid...
Anyway, I thought I would start with my pro-Harlan credentials before questioning the whole kick internet piracy thing. I don't get it. I don't see how you win at that. I like the idea of you suing AOL and I hope you get a big settlement but I don't see you ever stopping your information from circulating throughtout the internet. Look at the futile war against Napster. Sure, Napster is gone but there are a dozen more in its place. And you can't regulate the Usenet. That's an impossibility. And quite frankly, if it is possible, you shouldn't pursue an answer like that because the Powers That Be, fueling that awful MPAA bill would use it in a hot second. I guess I'm trying to figure out what your thinking is here. If the RIAA can't win on the issue you're fighting, and they have armies of lawyers, how will you win? Your charismatic manner?
You might ask well what will I, the great man Harlan Ellison, do with my time and my dwindling forture? I'm glad that you asked that. Well, the net is waiting for a genius to figure out how micropayments could work. It would take a charismatic genius, someone known for intellectual feats of derring-do...At this point it really wouldn't be that hard. Paypal is clearly the right model to go after. It would take someone with charisma and deep pockets or who knew people with deep pockets (Robin Williams and scores of others you could probably name drop, some marketing savvy by possibly the greatest self-marketer the genre has ever known and the willingness and patience to build a business. It could also make you incredibly wealthy and a lot of writers and artists completely self-sufficient...just a thought.
Anyway, when you figure out that this case isn't a winner, then I would hope that you would try to give micropayments a shot.
Philip Shropshire
www.majic12.com
www.threerivertechreview.com
PS: Please feel free to berate and insult me. In a way, it would be a kind of high point for me...
BRIAN - As far as rib recipes go, I have only one piece of advice, and it's probably not workable in the least. Head down to Alabama -- Tuscaloosa, to be exact -- and search out Dreamland Barbecue and try to hire on in some capacity that will put you behind the counter, close to whatever magic goes on in their darkened back rooms. Absorb what is there and then light out for the hills. Change your name. And spend the rest of your days in possession of a secret that, if my taste buds don't deceive me, is not even in possession of Dreamland's lesser franchisees.
Um. Sorry for this fairly stupid interruption, but I'm smack in the middle of a hankering for my home state's finest culinary export.
I wanted to tell the folks on this board how grateful I am for directing me to James Morrow. I wanted to say a few words on the first chapter of CITY OF TRUTH and compare/contrast the same feelings I encountered with my first Ellison book, PAIN GOD. The feelings of awe and happiness and jealousy.
However, after reading the posts of Lynn and Jim, I would like to revisit concerning my feelings of Jesse Helms. Skip this post and read no further if not interested.
Jess Helms is a man of hate. He hates those that are not white and not male. Oh, he might say a few words to appease whatever constituent he happens to be talking to at any given moment, but the man's actions and the majority of his words are nothing but hate. This is what he is and he does not hide his hate. He parades it and shows it as one would wear medals of valor. He hates.
I make no apologies for wishing this man's demise or hoping he deserves whatever punishment he may get in whatever afterlife there may be. He is keenly aware of what he is doing and what he is doing is feeding on people's base instincts and using his position of authority of power of seniority to further his own agenda of hate. You are different from me and you cannot be as good as me. That is his message. A message that gets airtime because he is a senator. A message that receives more weight than need be because he is a person in charge. A message that allows him to bully those that are weaker than he.
I did not want to revisit this. I have empathy to those that linger before succombing and in that lingering exact an emotional and financial toll that can be unbearable. I have no empathy for a man that bullies and forces his beliefs from his position of power to those that are least able to counter those beliefs, especially when that same bully incites the mob to spread his beliefs. I did not want to revisit this as Lynn and Jim's posts made me realize that somewhere somehow someone loves Jesse Helms. Someone will grieve when he dies. And I'm not talking about the rednecks that buy his hate and will weep into their Confederate flags when he departs. I'm talking about his grandchildren who go fishing with this monster. I'm talking about his kids who gather around his birthday cake and shower him with laughter and joy.
I still cannot alter my opinion about this man. No moment of lucidity will grant him reprieve for his actions and words, just as the drunk will still bear responsibility for the head-on collision that kills three. I do not alter my hateful wish for that hateful man, but I wonder what toll that takes on my life, my so-called soul, that the same hate that I decry allows me to fester it within myself.
Well, shit. Not exactly the happy-go-lucky post I wanted to write, but there it is. I promise I won't do this again.
One of my deficiencies-- okay, apart from the obvious ones-- is that I've never had a really wide range of food tastes. Never liked Chinese, Mexican, Thai, or whatever people are going for.(So when I'm with friends who want to go to a particular restaraunt, I usually stick to an appetizer or two.)
But about two weeks ago, I picked up a nice rotisserie toaster oven. BIG improvement in the local diet, now that I'm playing with roast seasonings and chicken marinades.
Now if I could only find a decent recipe for _ribs_...
Paul,
Thanks for the sympathy and the suggestion. I'm afraid my attempts at various asian dishes have mostly numbered among my failures (the exception being my lightly marinated seared Ahi tuna). Albeit most were edible, and a couple close to good, none would entice locals to demand more!
Tandoori cravings? Ah, I sympathize right back. Indian was one of the cuisines I missed in AK, and is one of the culinary blessings here. There's Indian food galore - and very good on the whole. Even Scotland has it's redeeming gastronomic qualities. (I didn't mean to imply there isn't good food here, there's just not a lot of variety.)
Hey, anyone got an ark I can borrow? It's raining like Tim Robbins just crawled out of a sewer pipe here.
Glad to see that Harlan has at least a web page for communications with his many fans. I'm a mid-aged biker who also happens to enjoy good stories, and had the pleasure of meeting Harlan at various times, mostly in SHerman Oaks at now defunct bookstores and comic emporiums. Harlan, I wish you nothing but the best, and hope that your fan base continues to grow-- I don't know if this is the right place to view upcoming stuff by you, but I'll keep tuning in to see what happens. Also, I know it's a dim possibility, but I'd still wish that there may be some future collaboration between yourself and Stephen King before the rest of my mane falls out. PPS-- as I said on chatroom which is defunct, thanks for the signing on Mind Fields. Kudos and continuations, U are the best.
Peg, I sympathize with you. I really do. I used to live in Wisconsin. Right now, I'm living in Dallas, which bears any number of restaurants, but none that would make you want to hop on a plane and visit the city. (Well, with the exception of the Red Hot & Blue chain: the best Memphis pork barbecue this side of Memphis, and I should know, since my wife is from Memphis. The slogan is "The best barbecue from a building that hasn't been condemned", and that's no exaggeration.) That's why I make a point of experimenting: if you can't get someone to bring cuisine to you, it's up to you to take the initiative.
For example, Dallas has only one Indian restaurant of any repute, and I tend to have cravings for tandoori chicken at the worst times. Actually, I wanted to know what tandoori turkey tasted like, so I took the iniative and came up with a distinctly unique take on the recipe. It's at http://www.hpoo.com/columns/hells/news38.html for anyone who may be interested: I'm posting it up here because Harlan expressed interest in it at AggieCon back in 2000, so why not share with everyone?
(Along that line, because everyone who has tried this tandoori turkey has been impressed, I'm half-tempted to throw a big party as an excuse to smoke up about seven or eight of these monsters. I have plenty of pecan wood, and since the squirrels in the back yard have denuded my poor trees of nuts, I spent an hour this morning picking up pecan hulls. 20 pounds of 'em, and nothing beats pecan hulls for smoking. This is going to be a good party: anyone interested in coming?)
With that in mind, while it's always great to have someone else doing the cooking for you, you might want to introduce everyone in your area to the joys of Japanese cuisine and wait for the fallout. Once your neighbors get a taste for it, they won't be happy until they get a restaurant, and then someone will realize that they have a market for a successful sushi restaurant in town. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to write up that business proposal for "Uncle Zonker's Tandoori Turkey Takeout"...
Lynn: Amen. I know you aren't trawling for sympathy, but I want to say how sorry I am for your loss. My mother was diagnosed with Stage III-C Ovarian Cancer five years ago, and spent a hellish eleven months careening from surgery to chemo to remission to rediagnosis to surgery and chemo again, finally succumbing to a massive infection abetted by the drug's destruction of her white blood cells. I was her primary caregiver, and I learned more in that year about the human capacity for bravery and love than I had ever suspected existed. It's a strange club we belong to, and I often wonder how my membership has changed me. I HOPE it's made a little more empathetic, even for the likes of a Jesse Helms.
Jim
Deify truth, not men
Man is vanquished dust
Dust blinds, truth edifys
I go beyond mere Haiku
To see inside confusion
More dust, endless family of worms
Harlan has eyes that see
Not blind, forming opinions
Cancer of thought makes lesser mortals squeedle.
I just made that word up: squeedle. Teehee.
Haiku is no fun now. Smile.
I don't understand why someone who writes in a "dry" style makes them somehow worthless, but to each his own. Chomsky is important to me because he receives information that cannot be found any where else. The info on MAI was worth the price of admission itself. In a dangerous age where Bush forces our noses into the shit, we need information more now than ever.
The left is actually doing quite well. Behind the scenes the gears are being greased, and activists of all stripes are doing their damn best to overthrow uber-Bush America. Seattle proved that. Genoa is just going to make the future either real bloody or more interesting.
I have read quite a lot of Paglia, and find her offensive to the quick. This is a harpie who thinks "date rape" is like being beaten up in a bar fight. She always goes on about her love of the rantings of Rush Limbaugh. Rush even went so far as to interview her in the odious Limbaugh Letter; where Paglia fawned like a school girl over him for the entire interview. Paglia defends kiddie-porn, but blames the sixties for the AIDS crisis. She thinks porn is a high art form, and that men who read a lot of books, become wimps. She defends commercial television, and thinks Madonna should be thought of as high art. She talks about how wonderful sex is, but claims to be "asexual" herself. I will say she is a great writer, but her views are nothing if not obnoxiously aberrant. But she is fun to read. But I will take Noams "drone" any day.
May I suggest the spoken word recordings of, Jello Biafra; who is the former lead singer of the punk band, Dead Kennedys. Jello has become quite the stand up, political ranter. He is no Lenny Bruce, but he is quite entertaining, as well as enlightening. And you have to love someone who was nominated by the Green Party, for President.
Harlan, no hard feelings. Dissagreement is just part of this Democracy thang. Peace.
Haiku Deity:
Mad, am I? Not me!
"Almost" is not all the way.
I grin inside, now.
Insomnia strikes
After a sixteen hour day
Madness may ensue
The Webderland board
Brimming with "off of" and more
Damn, much to read now
On Chomsky I say
That the man has helpful points
But he writes so dry
The Left needs a soul
'Cause they're splintered without sense
So they look at Noam
But Noam with his stance
Manufactures dull consent
No hero, oh dear
Where's an MLK?
An accessible BK?
Or even Yippies?
We can't be alone
And that's just how it feels
Yet we must protest
But we can't place faith
In a thinker without heart
Speaking technical
Someone's laughing now
At the deification
Of Noam's drone-like voice
"PI" can't help things
Politics reduced to blurbs
Cut to commercial
Bud Webster: you're mad
Almost cheating with the form
Now, an oblique grin
Heather: What a smack!
The seer can't anticipate
Surprises in yellow
Harlan: Thanks kindly
I listened but I regret
That I'm prone to verse
So I fear I'll slip
Into redundant meaning
Within syllables
Brian~
The reason one should hesitate to wish something horrible upon even the most deserving of souls is that those wishes just might come true. If all it takes is a butterfly farting in Beijing to create a hurricane in the Gulf, what if one random thought could put an atom in motion...
Someone once explained the effect to me this way: Your boss is having a shitty day and he takes it out on you, so you go home and yell at your wife, who then yells at the kids, who then take it out on the dog. And somehow, all of this venom ends up in the Middle East.
That, and having had someone I love dearly die in a cancer ward in the last year, his brain turned to a pulp as much by the ravenous beast as by the medicines they tried to kill it with, I would never wish that fate on anyone anywhere. It would be inhumane. All you need is one good bullet. And if you think that the deeds of a man somehow make your vengeance acceptable, somehow absolve you of any torturous act you might perpetrate on him, then you have allowed his hate and vitriol to color your world and the poison has not been erradicated, only passed along like a bad cold. Simple enough to get over, too easy to contaminate everyone around you.
Just my late night ravings. Tune in next week to watch me dangle a participle whilst suspended over the Grand Canyon.
Yours,
L.
You wimps ain't got nuttin' to complain about. If you want to bereave the lack of good deli food, move to Scotland. Even in Alaska we had the semi-successful attempt of Atlasta Deli (which was fine enough for my So Cal upbringing, having never pilgrimaged to a true deli). Here?? Pah.
I really enjoy the cultural experience of living in Scotland and in general the UK, but up here in the hinterlands, cultural food deprivation is one of the prices I've paid for it. [There was discussion about Japanese food in Atlanta. We don't have a *SINGLE* Japanese restaurant in Aberdeen. Not one, which is a crime considering the quality fresh seafood we get here.]
Maybe that's why I've so enjoyed the food topics on the board - savouring each electronic tidbit vicariously through your posts.
Harlan asked:
++Bud Webster, wherever did you get the weird idea I went to high school in Evanston?++
Dr. Shedd told me.
Actually, had I been thinking about it, I would have remembered that you were in Cleveland at the time, since that's where (and when?) you took over DIMENSIONS. My bad.
This might have been 'way after your time, but do you remember a collector in Cleveland named Wysocki?
To Jim Davis; I was lucky to start reading Woolrich when one of the paperback houses reissued about twelve of his books in the early 1980's. The covers were _gorgeous_; mysterious watercolors of the nighttime city with a Whistlerish haze, and Woolrich's name in red neon across the top. They might've been cheap paperback reprints, but the art director knew what he was doing when he did those covers.
As for the question of Helms and our fantasies... well, I don't see much of a problem with venting such fantasies on the one hand, and faulting Rob on that theater incident on the other. The reason is pretty simple. When we're talking about Helms, we're talking about things we _wish_ would happen, but I don't think any of us would actually _do_ such horrible things to the guy. We're basically describing how much Helms revulses us, and maybe indulging in the sort of violent fantasy we all have from time to time... but never actually perform.
With Rob's story, we're talking about something that did happen, and could happen to any of us, and maybe even _did_ happen to some of us. Very few of us discussed it as a _fantasy_; if we did, we'd be trading increasingly baroque tales of "whut I wooda done t'the guy." You could agree with Rob's take on the situation, or disagree, but neither position would have anything to do with the Things We'd Like to Have Happen to Jesse.
On a _much_ nicer note: Has anyone here been exposed to the lovely voice of Eva Cassidy? She'd been performing in Washington D.C. coffeehouses until her death from cancer a few years back. She'd recorded a pair of albums that went nowhere at the time. Then one day last year, a DJ at the BBC plays one of her songs, and suddenly she's become this cult figure in Britain. Her albums are available again, and try to get her versions of "Songbird" or "Over the Rainbow."
And while you're at it, try to find some Kirsty Macoll, too.
Harlan,
Damn 'ya, now I have an urging for a salami sandwich while I watch "Trainspotting."
Oh, and for anyone who has ever seen a Kevin Smith movie, "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back" rocks. Except for Chris Rock. His lines are spectacularly unfunny.
Regards,
Joseph
Alex K.:
The great deli of my childhood in Cleveland was originally on Cedar Road. It was called Benkowitz's. Later, when the Heights Theater closed down, or got yuppiefied, or whatever, Benkowitz's moved out to Beachwood, and renamed itself Benky's. It was a great and aromatic wonderland--just like Brent's--and I worshipped regularly at that kosher altar of cholesterol and artery-cloggage. That was when I was in high school, in Cleveland. (Bud Webster, wherever did you get the weird idea I went to high school in Evanston? I never even HEARD of Evanston till I got mustered out of the Army in '59 and went to Evanston to work for Hamling on ROGUE MAGAZINE. I attended Cleveland Heights High for one semester after my father died in 1949 and we moved from Painesville to the Sovereign Hotel on 105th Street; and thereafter, when I got booted out of Heights High, I graduated from East High. It was either in Painesville, or in Cleveland, about 1950, that I discovered Nelson Bond in BLUE BOOK. At least ten years before I ever set foot in Evanston, Illinois.)
I lament for you, Alex. There were giant salamis in the land in those days.
Yr. pal, Harlan
Mein gott, look at all the posts that have accumulated during my absence. No matter--I will gird my loins (has anyone on this board actually DONE this?) and soldier on.
Harlan: Believe me, I am listening. I know the grammatical howlers in my posts must make you bleed from all orifices; I promise to do better.
Lynn/All: The orgiastic death/torture fantasies written about Helms give me pause, too. I agree that he is a pernicious, bigoted fuckface who has blighted the American political landscape with his racism, homophobia, and errant stupidity. He is one of those unique individuals who can claim that they have made the world a more dangerous place for their having lived in it. To put it judiciously, I will not miss him.
Just the same, I've known too many people who have perished from the Crab, and I just don't have it in me to wish such a death on even Jesse Helms. I can only hope that future generations will look back on his career, and find it as abhorrent as the acts of Gilles de Rais and Pol Pot. (IF the human race is still around and has advanced even one iota, of course. I have my doubts.)
Amy: I feel your pain, darlin'. I can only conclude, from the dearth of real delis around here, that there are no Jews in Tampa Bay. Again, who'd a thunk it?
I've already defended John Simon, so I can't really get my dander up for Camille Paglia (a friend to the downtrodden and misunderstood, that's me). I WILL note that she has the rare ability to perceive the classical undercurrents in modern popular culture, and for that, she deserves at least ONE huzzah.
(HUZZAH!)
I will now demand that everyone who has not done so already, MUST hunt down and buy the Cornell Woolrich reprints published by ibooks. THE BRIDE WORE BLACK, PHANTOM LADY, and REAR WINDOW are classics that deserve the widest readership possible; get 'em while they're still available.
I've just learned, from reading the obituary list in the Fourteenth YEAR'S BEST FANTASY AND HORROR, that the artist Eyvind Earle died last year. I'm a little shocked--one of his paintings hangs in my living room.
Harlan (one more time): Ok, you had to know I would ask: What exactly was the nature of the dust-up between you and Brian Jones?
I'll leave you with these beautiful words from Raymond Chandler: "The things by which we live are the distant flashes of insect wings in a clouded sunlight."
Finally glare-free,
Jim
Re: "off of." No offense taken, and the rant was taken with affection, but I was sorta hoping you'd _giggle_ at how remote I had to get to find one possible exception. Aye, weel...
Re: Chomsky. One of my heroes, an utterly brilliant man whose fealty to reason, logic, and humanism and whose record of work for all the Good Causes is hard to match, let alone beat. I'll admit that he's not the most exciting writer in the world, and I think that's deliberate; Chomsky's said that he doesn't trust speakers who try to win over audiences, so he probably focuses on substance at the expense of style. His early essays (try to find _American Power and the New Mandarins_) have flashes of style that are pretty much absent from more recent works like _Rogue States_.
Anyway, I figure, if I'm going to demand spectacular writing with my politics, why demand it from Chomsky when Christopher Hitchens and Gore Vidal roam the land?
I'm of two minds on Paglia. On the plus side, I knew someone who was a student of hers, before she became famous, and he reported that she was probably the best teacher he'd ever had. She has shown some growth, now that she's fulfilled some of her ambitions, and she can be fun to read as long as you keep in mind that, most of the time, she's wallowing in her ability to riff on culture.
On the minus... well, she's fun on the classics, but once she opens her mouth on something more recent-- like feminism, economics, date rape, or anything more recent than the Crusades-- watch out. She doesn't make arguments, she throws insults, and the latter without the former ain't much better than Rush Limbaugh. Even when presented with such a deserving target as Catherine MacKinnon, she couldn't bring herself to address MacKinnon's arguments, and squanders ink on calling her names. She doesn't seem to even _try_ to rectify certain areas of genuine ignorance, and she's exceptionally prone to making embarassing or ridiculous claims. (Some people recall her praise of the Spur Posse, but for me, her calling the eminently sane and incisive Katha Pollitt a "Stalinist Bitch" and denouncing Chomsky as being a representative of the old-line establishment rank Right Up There as prime Paglia gaffes.)
The standard line these days for would-be writers seems to be don't worry about the first draft; fix it later. The problem is--few people do the proper repairwork. Besides, in writing or speech, is it ever good to encourage sloppy thinking, even the first time around?--John (trying his best to heed the sage advice of foremen Strunk and White.)
Hmm, shoulda run the whole board before posting. Harlan, my apologies for stepping on your promise to post subscription info. If I'm out of bounds, feel free to rip me a new orifice.
Re: Delis. We used to have delis in Cleveland. Not incredible New York or L.A. class delis, but, hell, at least delis. No more. Now all we've got are a few dismal leftovers from more ethnic days, barely qualifying for the title. Maybe you think Canter's sucks, but I'd give a year's worth of latkes for something that good around here.
Sigh.
Sorry, folks, I wasn't hitting on all pistons earlier. I gave the wrong "The Week" URL. Should have been more careful, but I had a weird day. Anyway, the _American_ version of "The Week" is to be found at http://www.theweek.ws/thisweek/
But if you're going to subscribe, think about checking out some of the online magazine subscription venues, rather than doing it direct from the publisher. If you use the webpage for The Week, you'll pay around 75 smackers for a year's worth. If you go to, say, magazinecity.net, you'll pay just under $50 for the same year's worth of issues.
Damn it, Harlan, NOW you've made me hungry for deli food and there is none to be had here in the vast wasteland of North Central Texas. Ask for a knish and they say "God bless you, honey." You want HOT pastrami? On rye? You'll get turkey bologna on soft white bread and they'll ask if you want ketchup with that.
One thing I miss about NY ever so much is the delicatessens...kosher OR Italian. But I guess I gotta live the rest of my life like a schnook.
Not sure what time Ben & I will make it into Atlanta, but we'll drop you a note fer shur. Your ruggies will be waiting.
amy
Lynn: Neither one. Brent's. Out in the valley. A bit of a drive--somewhere near Tampa and Saticoy, I think--but the best in the state. Better even than Nate'n'Al's in Beverly Hills, which (until I found Brent's) was the #1. Far outstrips Canter's, which mostly sucks; and isn't even in the same universe with shitholes like Jerry's and Solley's, which stopped making delcos and decent rugala because "the demand wasn't great enough." If you prefer, Art's Deli in Studio City is still fine, and Mort's out in Pacific Palisades is to die for, but...
The BEST DELI in Los Angeles is, hands down, Brent's. Their noodle kugel is not only humunguous enough to feed the entire Duke University football team and marching band, but it comes in its own crock, and the taste is olympian. You need crampons and an ice-axe to surmount their lean pastrami on corn rye. Susan goes cockeyed for the skirt steakand eggs (yes, I said Argentinian skirt steak, hola!) And every other dish on their Titanic-sized menu is merely only unfrigginbelievable.
I live to serve yr. needs. Culinarily kosher, I remain, Harlan.
Frank Church:
Noam Chomsky puts my ass to sleep.
As for Jacques Barzun, since we're in the Venue of Great Minds of Our Time--though the new book was catnip to Susan--one of the ugliest brief periods in my life was when I was locked up in NYC's penal hell, The Tombs, and a friend--who had a devilish streak in her--picked four or five books out of my apartment, to keep me entertained while I was in stir. One of them, gawd save my rotting soul, was the Anchor Books trade paperback of Jacques Barzun's TEACHER IN AMERICA. There were moments, after I'd read the other four books, and had nothing to keep me from hysteria but Prof. Barzun, that I contemplated letting the thugs in my holding block beat me into unconsciousness, as a pleasant respite from the metallic drone of one of the most brilliant minds of our time.
Does that answer your Chomsky query?
Debbie, Amy, Joseph and any other Webderlanders who'll be at Dragon*Con: Susan and I get in Thursday evening, around Eightish. If you haven't already gotten in the wind at that hour, you might leave a note for us at the desk of the Hyatt Regency, and if you have no strong objections to intruders...and we can do it...
(Brian Siano. I don't expect you to love me for the previous post.)
HE
Mr. Siano:
I will now rip you a new asshole.
Yes, how damnably clever of you, you delicious li'l jackanapes! You found a totally unlikely, moronic possibility in which "off of" works. The phrase "He did a flip off the high board" would certainly have been too easy to have considered, because we would see that "off of" STILL doesn't work, but no, you have to postulate someone turning off a tv set, flipping it the bird, or (I'm sure we all have experience of this in our daily lives) Ms. Komeniche performing her Olympic gold medal-winning routines using a 36" Sony Trinitron instead of a balance bar.
When I sadly suggested it would be swell if a few someones were listening, it was to the Brian Sianos of the world to whom I was speaking. By manipulating language idiotically, for the asinine and sophomoric pleasure of "picking the nit" with me, the same jerkazoid behavior I inveighed against when I pointed out that there's always at least one smartass who has to show how much cleverer he is than the Prof., Mr. Siano has reduced himself to yak vomit in my eyes. At least for the nonce. How, you may ask, did I know in advance that a smartass would interdict the flow of transference of information with dopey shenanigans? Because I've been doing this shit for FIFTY FUCKIN' YEARS!
And sure as mangos in the Maytime, big goddam outta the blue surprise...NOT...there's a Siano, grinning like a jackass, offering himself up as The Horrible Boob Example. I have got to ask you, kiddo, WHY the hell would you do precisely what you were warned against doing, Brian? What did you achieve. Yes, you found a weird, useless, non-viable and utterly mad exception to a perfectly good rule from which people might benefit. And exactly how does your donning the cap and bells, jamming the big red clown-ball nose on your online persona, puking on your shoes,
wearing the lampshade on your head, coming downstairs into the middle of Mommy&Daddy's party in your Dr. Dentons and peeing for the crowd...in any way benefit this crowd, or yourself?
I urge you to take as your life role-models Louis Pasteur or Ogden Nash or Katherine Anne Porter; not Pauly Shore, Adam Sandler, David Spade or Chris Farley.
Not amused, Harlan.
Amy: You are absolutely right, I AM A GOOB. If I ever actually knew it was salt, not rice, it fell outta my head. And if I just never knew it at all, it only enhances by goobishness. I always feel like such a jerk when I don't know something everybody else knows.
For those of you interested in THE WEEK, when the next issue comes in, a few days from now, I'll transpose the contact and/or subscription information here for you. It's that worthwhile that I'm pleasured to do the line-work for those of you considering.
yr. pal, Harlan
Bob: Congrats on the new editorial position. I've been reading their sister 'zine for over a year now. They're good folk and some of the best content I've seen online.
L.
Rick: from the Little Picky Pain In The Ass Dept: I noticed on the main Visitor Forums page, it says "Weberland Visitor Forums," with the "d" left out! Heh heh...unless you're planning on doing a forum for Steven Weber from "Wings" and "The Weber Show..."
Harlan, re your writing 101: I'm glad you wrote that part about writer's block. I was going to say something similar, but I'm glad you beat me to it! And I second your recommendation of "The Week."
David: As you know my copy was grabbed, so I'm not sure what you mean about "The Essential Ellison." Can't seem to remember anything that was odd, though admittedly I only glanced at it for a few minutes. What is it?
Re: ATMs and PINs: I've even seen bank literature and ads with the phrases "ATM machine" and "PIN number." Weird how things like that can infiltrate American language and become the daily norm. Though I don't see anything wrong with using them in dialogue, as long as it's consistent with the character saying it.
Oh, and if you'll permit me a little shameless plug: I'm one of the new editors over at Strange Horizons, a speculative fiction and science fiction magazine. Take a look when you get a chance: http://www.strangehorizons.com
What's so bad about grass huts? Um, no running water? No PC (or any peripherals) No cable modem? No A/C?! (Or heat, for that matter.) No fridge, no microwave, no stove, no oven, no television (specifically no Discovery, no Sci-Fi Channel, no History Channel, no EMERIL).
And when was the last time you saw a grass hut with a library's worth of bookshelves.
David. Remember that Harry Lime/Graham Greene/Orson Welles quote I referenced awhile back? It's lingering somewhere over my left shoulder.
Harlan. You can settle a bet for me. Solley's or Jerry's? And yes I know they're owned by the same folk. Any opinions?
L.
(who personally prefers Café 50's across the street from Solley's. Mmmmm. Cheese fries.)
Hey everybody. I just got off of school.
BAHAHAHAHAHA!
Heh heh. Kidding. God damn I'm hilarious. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. I'm still watching. I'll post something of substance again when I can find the time, and a subject that's good for the incisors.
David, how about those observations regarding the educational issues I raised a few posts ago? I'm all ears.
By the way, my first impressions were off. The Army program here is looking pretty damn good. Hoo-ah! *grunt*
J
It's easy to quote Paglia out of context and to loathe her flair for drama and overstatement, Frank, but have you actually READ her books?
I'm not here to defend her -- for the several years I was on the Paglia discussion list (which appears to have gone moribund), I played the role of Honorable Opposition, in fact -- but she can be quite entertaining and challenging, if you look past the noise.
Consider the inflammatory passage you just quoted, for example. What if it might just be true? And what's so terrible about living in grass huts?
"If civilization had been left in female hands, we would still be living in grass huts".
Camille Paglia.
This is why I loath Ms. Paglia..
Someone was mentioning, Manufacturing Consent, the Noam Chomsky film. There is a pungent part in it, where Jeff Greenfield; pundit for Nightline and others talks about why Chomsky is never on the chat shows. He basically makes the absurd remark that either Chomsky is not quite "consise" enough, or that Chomsky is not good on tv, if you can believe that! By the way Chomsky is on Television quite a lot in other countries. Our media is just becoming ever more closer to Soviet style propaganda.
Harlan, I notice you have never mentioned Mr. Chomsky. What is your take on the noted linguist/political marvel?
Harlan, I believe THE WEEK is based on the Saturday Guardian's THE EDITOR, which was a news staple in London.
I had steered clear because I heard it was "brought to you by the people that publish Maxim" but I'll give it a look.
-AW
Harlan,
Thanks for the tips. As Lynn said, we are listening.
I've got a copy of Fowler's Modern English Usage but I don't have Strunk & White. I'll get it.
-AW
I hate perl. Have I mentioned I hate perl?
That wabbit cwap warnt too bad NEITHER.
::sigh::
L.
Heather:
"That wabbit cwap warnt too bad either." I do believe that the correct dialect would be "warnt too bad >N
Oh and Bud, thank you. You made me snort milk all over my keyboard. Classic.
L.
Heather,
Ooooohhh. A kiss from a lovely young lady. My heart goes pitter-patter. Don't tell my wife, okay? :)
"My bad" is a slang way of admitting fault without apologizing. Pretty crappy phrase.
Debbie,
I won't be in Atlanta until 1:00 on Friday. Perhaps we should wing it and leave messages on the noteboard?
Regards,
Joseph
JOSEPH!:
Sorry.. owe YOU a kiss. Can you live with that?
David:
You now have a spare one, okay?
And Bud:
That wabbit cwap warnt too bad either. In fact it war NEAT! (Gee, can you tell what era I'm from? -- "neat")
Please, people, I don't know this phrase. What is "MY BAD"?
Out da door. Home to latsa books.
H
Amy and Joseph (and anyone else who may be attending Dragoncon next weekend),
I suggest that we meet Thursday night for dinner, if y'all have arrived by then. If not, then Friday at lunch. Or maybe we could all sit together at the banquest, if y'all are going to it.
The schedule has been posted on the Dragoncon site, and after looking at it, I'm not sure when I'm going to sleep, much less eat. Great schedule, many panels with Mr. Ellison, and ALICE COOPER WILL BE THERE!!! HE WILL BE THERE ON PANELS!!!
I am very excited that I will be hearing Mr. Ellison on panels, but I am jumping up and down and screaming (in my mind, of course, as I'm typing this at work)to be able to see Alice Cooper. I have been listening to him since high school, and that was a long, long time ago. Actually, I've been reading Mr. Ellison's works since high school, too. Coincidence?
I am so psyched about Dragoncon I can hardly wait!
Anyway, I've read this 3 times and I think it's grammatically correct, so here goes.
(Scurrying back into lurkdom)
Debbie
By the way the Salon piece is satire, but I do wonder how much of it is actually true.
-Andrew
As far as I'm concerned the news media is the worst mangler of the english language. Dan Rather's use of "new-cue-lar" instead of the correct "new-cle-ar". When JFK Jr.'s plane went down I actually heard several talking heads use the phrase (cringe) "such deep depths" (shudder). Making matters worse is good ole Dubya making up new words and mangling old ones. There is actually a linguistics professor in Texas who thinks "Bushonics" is an acceptable dialect.
The article appears in Salon at http://www.salon.com/politics/feature/2001/03/19/bushonics/index.html
Some days I wonder how I ever got edjamucated.
-Andrew
Er, I meant http://www.theweekmagazine.com Not "this." Argh.
My boss, his boss, and her boss were all fired yesterday, so I'm just passing through (no, I haven't been fired...yet), but I thought I'd post this tip: To check out THIS WEEK, go to http://www.thisweekmagazine.com
But note that if you choose to subscribe, you can get better deals than the magazine itself offers by searching around the web a bit.
--alex
Lynn - "Othello" with Patrick Stewart was staged at the Shakespeare Theater - I missed my shot at tickets by about 24 hours. There was much consternation over THAT little debacle...
And my mother told me every day that the accordion was the MOST hated musical instrument at Stately Finder Manor. Of course, we didn't have a piper. But the Feeneys did... brrrrrrrrrr.
Time to play the game "Nitpick with Harlan!" (For entertainment purposes only.)
I think I have an example-- one example only, probably the exception that enforces the rule-- regarding the use of the words "off of." It can be used, but only to differentiate the use of the word "off." Remember, "off" can mean "not on" as well as the power-switch meaning of "not active."
So, if "Jack flipped off the television," did he throw a switch, make a rude gesture, or perform some gymnastics in his living room? For the latter meaning, "off of" seems to be an appropriate choice of words.
I remember an interview with Samuel Delany where he talked about how SF introduces some ambiguities of grammar. Take the sentence "Steve turned on his left side." In most fiction, that means that he rolled around on his bed. But in SF and fantasy, that could also mean that he reached down and flipped a switch.
Or, let's say we're describing travelling down a freeway where the traffic is administrated by a system of computers, electric signs, and perhaps robot "sheepdogs." If we write "Frank turned off the freeway," there'd be some ambiguity. Did Frank direct his car onto an off-ramp, or did he shut down the freeway's administration system? Seems that using the phrase "Frank turned off of the freeway" would be a little clearer.
But as I said, this is a really exceptional case, and one could probably avoid the whole issue by writing "Frank turned onto an off-ramp" and avoiding "off of" entirely.
Harlan: Oh, my lord and wise one, forgive this humble country girl for expressing her surprise at your interest in sumo wrestling. Not being as worldly as, well, most of the world, I thought I might've missed some other use for the word "sumo." It's sort of a weird interest, but one I share.
And they throw SALT, not RICE, ya goob!
Lynn: Darlin', I checked out that little tea tray of an automobile BEFORE I chose my wonderful (not to mention economical--it's nice to have a sporty car that doesn't spend all its time getting fixed by the necessary pet mechanic you MGers employ) and adorable Miata. It's possible that you just haven't taken a good look at Miatas, since all you usually get to see is their cute li'l rear end and a cloud of dust as they blow by you in the fast lane. While you're overheating, my dear, I am ACCELERATING. Hard to dust me in the curves when you can't get your car to run properly. I suppose being slightly larger has its advantages...at least you can store all those parts that fall off when you try to whip through the curves. (p.s. - this is fun!)
Adam: Geez, you've got patience. I would've broken that asshole's kneecap and spent the night in jail. I can take all kinds of crap--if it's directed at ME. My family or friends? I'll kill ya or die trying. Don't know why I flip out when it isn't me, but I do.
amy
I'm listening. I know Lynn is too.
Question: What is Follett nor Fowler? I'm not sure if this is grammar book names or authors.
Thanks. I'll get it Monday.
Heather
So. I check out this Bread and Circuses job. Neat place, neat job, neat woman who interviewed me.
But weirdness (though I understand the reason): the job's been filled; they're already training two new people.
Never mind, Sundance. At least I got 'seen' and 'talked' to and am more than a resume to these folks. Onward and upward.
Have a great weekend, kiddies. Do some shoeshowing, skiing and moutain climbing with your thoughts and deeds, okay?
Heather
Joseph,
If I spot THE WEEK, I'll give ya a holler.
But we IZ Professor Harlan!
With dunce caps in ready position and an apple on the desk we IZ listenin'. Our ears is open like th'Grand Canyon herself.
General Grocery Item:
I watch Bill Maher almost every night. Sometimes it's a very frustrating experience. Last night, as on occasions, Maher asked a question that seemed clear, yet NO one on the panel could follow. He asked about the presumption of one religion - one myth - regarding itself as the correct one over another (the ever-present historic self-delusion that has marked every written century), referring to the Christian missionaries stupidly marching into Afghanistan in hopes of proselytizing the Taliban (lotsa hysterical laughter comin' from THIS corner of the room). "Don't you realize how wicked the Taliban are?" the panel would keep responding, spending the whole evening missing the point. "You retards, why don't you get it?" I was practically crying out. It seemed so OBVIOUS to me what Maher what was saying that I wanted to go to that studio and kick their asses for being so dense. With the right follow-through the topic could've taken so many interesting directions. It IS frustrating when he's making a good point - superseding the mundane - and he rams into a solid wall of dumbness...just in time for the next commercial.
Realizing my previous statement has nothing to do with "extra words," I append...
Emergency Situation & Boarding Process
Harlan~ You are absolutely correct, and YES WE ARE LISTENING. No one feels more ridiculous than I who insisted one of my contributors go out and *buy* a copy of Strunk & White last Tuesday. Your examples remind me of Carlin's diatribe against "extra words." Yes, I'll confess it. Napalm & Silly Putty is on my bedside table right next to the EE Rev & Exp.
"Please get *on* the plane."
"Fuck you, I'm getting *IN* the plane. There's less WIND in here."
L.
God, I really hope I'm not starting a whine thread:
Could everyone on the planet stop using the phrase "PIN number?" Please? If everyone would elimate that phrase from their vocabulary, I'll try to reform my own bad grammatical habits (of which there are probably 15 in this post alone).
As for THE WEEK, I'll check around and see if I can find it out here in the hinterlands. Ray, let me know if you see it, would ya? I'll do the same.
Regards,
Joseph
Re: Prof. Ellison's Grammar Lesson
I humbly and respectfully bow to the wisdom of the Man as He is correct. I may or may not have committed these grave grammatical errors in my posts, but I have committed these sins in the past. I offer my apologies and genuflect and kiss your rings as I will sin no more. Maybe.
I would say, though, that dialogue is up for grabs. If they say it like that, write it like that. (Of course, my own pet peeve is "ATM machine". People do say that and I do correct them if done in my presence, but it should never be written even as dialogue. Hmmm. I guess I'm invalidating my previous point. Oh, well. Whattaya gonna do?)
I kept waiting for somebody else to say something, but maybe I'm the only one.
Now, understand that I'm not complaining, and I don't want to get anybody in trouble -- it's mostly just amused curiousity -- but does anybody else have a copy of the new Essential Ellison that has something ... funny ... about it? Up at the front? (Or anywhere else, I suppose)....
Harlan said:
++Gee, I wish someone were listening.++
Folk, take it from me. This is the guy who called me on his own nickel to tell me (amongst other things) "Webster, of COURSE the flying saucer 'dropped down' behind the Bowl-A-Rama, it can't drop UP," after he read my first pro story. He's serious.
And right, even if I do stumble all too frequently.
Cut superfluous redundancies... Got it, check.
Actually, I have one question. What if a redundancy makes rhythmic sense? What if it adds that missing beat that keeps the sentence flowing?
---Peter
Harlan,
Thanks for the tip of THE WEEK.
Re: Valeries
This is just to inform everyone that not all Valeries are evil and selfish succubi who will drink your spirit before leaving you hollow and in pain on the floor.
I have a Valerie of my own, and quite frankly, while I might have made the decision anyway, I credit her with my escape from the self and societally imposed path to mediocrity that I had so far embraced with all the enthusiasm of the chronically apathetic. Ya see. She was one of the few engineering students around who genuinely and without reservation loved, and I mean LOVED engineering. It was seeing her in action that made me realize that I'd got the wrong end of that particular stick and if I kept at it, I was likely to lose my sanity.
It helps that me and her have remained close, and have gotten closer over the last couple of years. Yeah, she's had a hard life, but instead of turning the furies against herself and others, she's used them to better herself, to drive herself in a direction she wants to go, on her terms. She's finishing a masters and then going for a PhD in engineering.
I don't know where I would be right now if I had never met Valerie. I don't know what direction my life would be heading. I don't know if I could have seen the opportunities I have since chosen to pursue if I had never met her. So I thank goodness for every day that my Valerie is in my life. She was a catalyst to change for me, and for that I am eternally grateful. To top it off, she is a good person with a good heart.
So, yeah, my experience is personal to me. I just wanted to refute the idea that all us writer/fan types have a Valerie in the negative sense implied earlier.
---Peter
To all of you fed up with Newsweek, Time, etc.:
The answer is called THE WEEK. It is a newsmagazine that, in 30-something pages gives you virtually everything of note in that week just past. I recommend it in the strongest possible terms.
It is a mini-marvel of succinct journalism.
Inexpensive, timely, and it has become, in less than a year, my staple news-source, along with the CBS news station on LA radio.
THE WEEK. Go find a copy. Try it. You'll thank me.
Or I'll punch you.
Yr. pugnacious pal, Harlan
Lynn & Adam: It is ungrammatical to say "off of," as both of you did in your latest posts. It's a double negative, and what is commonly referred to in writing workshops as "schoolgirl grammar." So many of you talk about being writers, and lament "writers' block" (which I shan't go into now, though most of your musings do make me hide my mouth behind my hand so you won't perceive that I'm giggling), yet you apparently have not rubbed Strunk & White into your pores, and neither Follett nor Fowler seem to be your bosom companions, or even on your must-read lists with the shoals of contemporary fictioneers.
"Off" is sufficient. "Off of" is wrong. Oh, and Adam, when you speak of "skimming off the top," it's the equivalent of saying, I live in a big house home." Skimming MEANS across the surface.
The top, that is. Even if it's at the bottom of a filthy pond, and you're skimming the crud off (not off of) the bottom, you're STILL skimming off the top...of the bottom surface. Many of you use unthinking redundancies that are a dead giveaway to editors who KNOW good writing, that the person submitting the manuscript is an amateur, a parvenu, a tyro. I'll give you a few examples, and a way to avoid them:
"He looked up at the sky." No shit. You cannot look "down" at the sky. (Now, let's get something out of the way from the git-go. Yes, I suppose if you were seeing the sky's reflection in a pool, a mirror, your highly-polished parochial school Mary Janes, you might conceivably be smartass--but no less rdundant--in rationalizing the postulation that one of these rarest-of-the-rare exceptions will justify your gaffe. That is what assholes who don't really want to learn, but need desperately to justify their errors, do. They think the exceptions, no matter how convoluted and improbable, get them off the hook, and prove what a dolt the teacher is. Yeah, sure, if you stretch the rationale till it creaks, you can probably find some convoluted "what-if" bullshit reason for your redundancy. But those smartass exceptions only muddy the water for your understanding of this common flaw in most people's speech and writing. So don't be a smartass.)
He knelt down. No shit. You can't "kneel up."
The snow fell to the ground. No shit. Unless you're living on the planet Zxymllll in the anti-matter galaxy of GHtyrl, that's what happens when gravity rules. Snow falls. To the ground. Or the tabletop. Or the ragtop. Whatever the object of the sentence is. It falls to it.
He shook his head no. No shit. Try shaking your head yes.
He used his mental telepathy. No shit. Since telepathy MEANS mind-to-mind, I challenge you to use your "physical telepathy."
He waved his hand goodbye. No shit. Try waving your adenoids goodbye. He waved goodbye. Period. End of sentence.
The examples go on and on and on. Just go back and reread any contemporary paperback, or one of your own postings, and ask that "reverse" of each redundancy: "he turned around," for instance. If he turned "around," he spun 360. If he "turned," which is precise and correct, he need only rotate sufficient for your purpose as a storyteller. Ask the reverse. He sat down. No shit. How can he sit "up," unless he's on the ground or in bed or lounging on the sofa. When someone standing sits, he or she only sits. Down is the only way s/he can go. He cannot--ask the reverse--sit up on a chair. (Unless he's in an Amish or Mennonite household where they raise the chairs onto wall-pegs after the meals; and our protagonist has developed the amazing Olympic competition ability to fling himself upward and backward, plonking onto the wall-ensconsed seat. I am smartass, hear me bleat.)
This has been Harlan Ellison's Writing Lesson #8,000,001.
Gee, I wish someone were listening.
Ray,
You're not crazy. Time, Newsweek and US News & World Report are, in my oh-so-humble opinion, at a real nadir of reporting and editing. They've become sensationalistic to a bad extreme, crowing out serious reporting. Personally, I think they should stop trying to compete with daily newspapers and tv news, and return to their considerate reporting and elucidating of the past. Retro and over-idealistic of me? Perhaps. They won't because their advertising would plummet, but I can dream.
Regards,
Joseph
Oh, and for those taking recommendations for anime, I heartily advise you to avoid "X." Now THAT'S incomprehensible. Pretty, though.
Dave and Deity:
Kiss and Kiss!
Harlan:
Writing love letters online. Kiss. Hug.
Rob:
See, I told ja. Open yer damn mouths, people. Tell us who you are and suddenly Lynn NEEDS you. Thank you Lynnster! (Lorin, where are those URLS, womanski!)
Neat. Off to check a bakery job. I'm talking REAL bakery. Fell across it this a.m. while in search of food. (Now I know what this term, "starving artist" is about. *yeeeks*)
I have McDonald's to thank for this. Ain't THAT ironic? Mickey D's was SUPPOSED to direct deposit my cheque. They didn't. I went down there to chew off some heads. They had the cheque. Deposited it. Passed by a yuppie, high-traffic bakery called "Bread and Circuses" to grab some bread or summat. (They have musicians on weekends too!)
They are advertising for counter help. The guy said, "come back this a.m." I'm outa here.
Gotta a job already? True. And it STARTS in two weeks. Thought I'd try eating in the meantime -- a reasonable idea -- and paying rent. Also getting trained evenings for a burger joint job. Small business, the burger and bakery joints. NOT a franchise. These people seem more 'real.' I could be wrong, but what the hey! (Just a story folks. Such is life. I'm in the acid-rain and enjoying it. Sure beats outpost secretary in a business management seminar abyss.)
Hello, my name is Heather. What's YOURS?
Just asking... has Newsweek magazine become a nearly worthless rag of trivialities, PR spin and pop culture, lacking any REAL news value, or is it just me?
Regarding the growing proliferation of assholes. To quote local artist, raconteur, tough guy, Tony Fitzpatrick, "Ya can’t kill ‘em all."
(I attempted to reply to this last night, hit the wrong key, and my responses disappeared into the aether; I gave up and went to bed. This never seems to happen to notes I don't care about.)
Harlan:
Billy Hale. I have not read the essay you mentioned, and so was unaware that you had a connection with Hale. Nevertheless, it was insensitive of me to post as I did, knowing full well that you've been in and out of Hollywood for the past 40+ years and almost certainly had had some contact with the man. I am ashamed, and I offer my apologies, not for the news itself, but for my ill-mannered and ham-handed tone. Me mudder brought me up better than that.
Nelson Bond. "Gee, Bud, I'm up to my ass in alligators right now, I can probably only give you a couple of lines," he says. So here I'm expecting a short, generic note in the mail, and BOOM!
Handsomely done, Harlan, and I certainly appreciate it. I've seldom seen an olive branch offered with more aplomb and sincerity, and I think Nelson will be pleased as well. If he is, in fact, willing to sign your copy of Mergenthwirker - and I can't imagine he wouldn't be - I'll send you his address.
Folk, for those of you who are unfamiliar with Nelson Slade Bond, and I suspect most of you are, he began writing for the pulps in the '30s and stopped in the '50s. In that time, he wrote in excess of 500 stories, including one a month in Blue Book - the biggest market of its day - for a decade; wrote every conceivable kind of story with the possible exception of the confessional; broke into the slicks before anyone else in the field; and managed to garner as fans such divergent personalities as Ray Bradbury, Bennett Cerf, Roger Zelazny, James Branch Cabell (on whose death Nelson became his literary executor) and some kid in Evanston named Ellison.
Relatively few of his stories have ever been collected, in spite of his having published five books of short stories and having been anthologized countless times. Peter Ruber of Arkham House approached Nelson about reprinting a story in their 60-year retrospective, and ended up offering to publish a brand new collection; it will be out later this year.
Wildside has reprinted one of his collections, _Lancelot Biggs: Spaceman_, and is getting ready to do the first book publication of one of Nelson's few novels.
He has one extremely annoying habit: he's thin ehough that he can cross his legs *twice* - once at the knees and then again at the ankles. Disgusting. When we stand next to each other, we look like the number 10.
All that to say, seek out his work, especially a copy of _The 31st of February_ (if you can find a copy - it's pretty rare), or just spring for the Biggs book from Wildside; I don't think you'll be disappointed.
Harlan, several years ago you paid me a very high compliment; I'd like to return it now. Youse is a mensch.
Time for the fanboy to babble about them Japanese cartoons!
It's true that EVANGELION was a landmark series-- it pushed the envelope in terms of what could actually be SHOWN on television in Japan, and it tried (only half-successfully, IMO) to posit a story that jerry-rigged obscure religious tidbits onto an otherwise mundane super robot plot. My problems with it stem from the fact that there wasn't a single character in the cast that I identified with or even liked. I also thought the religious elements, while interesting, weren't well-used-- the whole show still felt like a high-gloss remake of MAZINGER Z (TRANZOR Z to us yanks), and I also wasn't impressed by the usual pandering to the audience in the form of the cutesy, unnecessary mascot animal and the improbably well-endowed 14-year-old female protagonists.
My absolute favorite anime is GIANT ROBO, a 7-part OVA (direct-to-video) series that took almost 8 years to create. If you can rememeber Johny Socko and His Flying Robot, you've got the central idea-- boy + giant robot-- but the GIANT ROBO animation puts it on a scale that would make THE TEN COMMANDMENTS seem like CLERKS in comparison. As if that weren't enough, the cast of characters is assembled from the ENTIRE BODY OF WORK of a single, very prolific comic artist (Mitsuteru Yokoyama)-- in his career, the guy drew sci-fi yarns, magical girl adventures, and several adaptations of famous Chinese fables-- and EVERY SINGLE CHARACTER is represented here.
It's a great adventure story with eye-popping visual design (picture Hieronymous Bosch and Frank Lloyd Wright and Alexander Rodchenko getting in a 3-way collision), terrific animation, and a thunderous orchestral score. It's what Roger Ebert would describe as an "out-of-body experience"-- a story so engaging and exciting that you'll forget everything else and get completely wrapped up in it.
Have I gushed enough? Well, it's gotta be seen to be believed. (Fair warning, though-- the dubbed version is very silly, and has some grevious translation mistakes.)
If you want something recent and "hot", I'd recommend COWBOY BEBOP-- ignore the silly title, the show itself is a fusion of Hard Boiled, Fist of Fury, and Starsky & Hutch-- all set in a very seedy version of outer space, with a surging jazz soundtrack. It'll be on Cartoon Network (edited, though there's no telling how much) in September, and it's already out there on DVD, uncut. (And unlike GIANT ROBO, the dub on this one is fantastic-- better than the Japanese version, if you ask me.)
I could go on about the subject of children's cartoons made in Japan (okay, EVA and BEBOP aren't *really* for kids), but you'd save time just by visiting my website:
http://www.animejump.com
Signed,
--Nerd
Adam,
When you’d taken SOME martial arts as a teen, when you’d learned a bit more from a friend who was an instructor in two styles for five years, when you’ve worked out most of your life to keep in shape...and when you were once attacked and belted while face down in bed almost asleep...you tend to be stalwart in an aggressive defense. Yet even I have my limits! (g)
I can only draw from your description what these brainless spit bucket Java men looked like; but the presence of anyone well over 6’2" and who makes the gym their second home would probably hold me at careful discretion even as I try to drive my point. I would never have backed away, though. I’d have done as you did. Especially when it’s a relative or someone close to you being harassed. THEN all bets are off. There’s no comparison between that kind of harassment and the idiot I had to deal with; whatever form of organisms you were confronting evolution hadn’t even started on THEM yet; MY adversary, at least, was a lower hominoid. Throwing yourself in front of an oncoming vehicle is our job once someone close or a loved one is jeopardized. In any other instance it is only your ego you’re fighting for. I toast to your resolve, man.
The reason it makes sense to take your stand against thugged-out fucks (gauging the circumstances; I mean KNOW when your only option is to take off. But if you DO run, make it look like it’s because you’re late for an interview with Connie Chung to save face; fortunately, I haven’t had to fall back on that one yet) is because at least some may learn from it once they understand the threats don’t get them what they were after. It worked for me a few times. But that was more possible with the guy I dealt with than YOUR goons.
Finally, I’m really, really sorry that had to be a Tom Petty concert. He’s great and his stuff is great and it’s a damn shame to have such an event ruined.
This sort of thing depresses me: it reinforces the concealed pockets of misanthropy in the chasms of my soul. I iz SADLY confessin' to you I believe the better people who walk the earth are outnumbered by those much closer to our ancient ancestors. I AM convinced of it. Science and art take a back seat to the slime and fungus.
We’re running shadows on a landscape, man.
Harlan,
Incidentally, I jotted down James Morrow’s name as a reminder. I’ll look for him. And thanks for that tip-off, that was damn nice of you. He sounds...pertinent.
Maybe Bob and I will have some feelings to volley once we both read some of Morrow's titles. And I'LL sure as hell have some once I'm reading 'Sleepless'.
Rob,
A little less than a month ago, I experienced something quite similar to your theater incident. It's 1am here and I need to get to sleep so I'm going to skim the details off the top and just leave you with the meat of the story. I took my step-father to Tom Petty's concert as a belated father's day gift. During the show a group of 20-something pricks start harassing my step-father. One of them starts rubbing my step-father's gut like he's the buddha and asking, "How did you get a stomach so big?" I'm not paying careful attention at first so I'm quiet. When the prick comes back & does it again, I tell him simply, "Hey, fuck off!" This incenses him and his friend lays his hand on my chest and tells me to mind my own fucking business. Now, these guys are big, fit guys. They pumping iron when they're not crushing aluminum cans against their heads. So, I calm down and just take the guys hand off of me. He over-reacts and spills a few drops of his beer. (I still don't know whether he was uncoordinated because he was sauced or if he purposely spilled a little of the beer so that he could have a beef with me.) To use your verb, the prick starts barking at me. I owe him seven bucks for another beer and he'll beat the shit out of me, etc. etc. I refuse and send my dad to get security. Now, I'm freaked out - don't want to get my ass kicked in - but I'm responding foolishly. For example: "No," I tell the guy, "*You* are the ones who started with the wrong guys." They got in a good shove before the security guards showed up and we only saw them once more -- when they promised not to forget us -- but I left the concert ambivalent. On one hand, I had stood up to these guys and they didn't get the fight that they were hoping for. They were textbook bullies and my simple resistance kept them from doing what's in their nature. However, they succeeded in ruining my & my step-father's experience. Had I not said a word, they eventually would have left my step-father alone and while he would have been annoyed, he would have at least had the opportunity to enjoy the rest of the concert. Instead, he & I spent the last hour of Petty's performance, looking over our shoulders for the pricks to return. I clutched a five-dollar bill in my pocket, having decided that if they came again I was going to give the guy five bucks for a beer -- and effectively buy myself out of the situation. I'm glad it didn't come to that but I don't think it would have been the worst thing in the world anyways (especially because I'm convinced that they wanted the fight more than the money). I don't have answers for you here -- just sympathy.
-AW
FIFO
Amy: Odds are you wouldn't know a gear shift from a hand grenade, my dear. Wouldn't know a double clutch from double dutch. I'd like to see your little piece of Japanese windup toy try to take my bicentennial-B in the curves, where a real car sticks to the road and a toy car goes flyin' out the lines. You know what Miata stands for don't you? Maybe I'll Aspire To Autohood. (okay - so it's seat of the pants - so sue me) So why don't you take your little commuter hotwheels back home and let the big girls show you how it's done. 'Cause the parts fallin' off of this car are of Genuine British Manufacture. R-A-G-G-T-O-P-P Rrrragtop.
Harlan: re: making kissy face about Jesse Helms. Oh yeah, I forgot. This is the place where people like Rob get their asses chewed for trying to be polite (re: the whole soda pop debaucle), but we can wish someone a most horrible death without fear of recrimination. I'll remember that in future next time I want to vent my spleen. Gosh golly gee willickers, I love this forum. ::that'd be me rolling my eyes but smiling::
Oh and thanks to you and your silver dollar moon, I've been having dreams about Carl Sandburg and his quill pen scribing out his collected works on the pale expanse between the nape of my neck and my hip bones, only to tear off said work and begin again. Who knew that my onion self had so many layers?
Heather: Congrats on the job! re: Performers. Does hit-and-run, banzai, love-em-and-leave-em-rollin'-in-the-aisles street comedy a lá the small renfaire circuit count? If so, yes, you can count me in. Oh yeah, and that whole conductor thing, all tho' that gig is so last century, if you know what I mean. (I discovered a nasty little secret. If you're female, and you didn't go to Julliard, and you don't like little kids, turns out your fucked as far as baton wielding antics this side of Guadalajara.) Oh yeah and a baroque choir in Baltimore that didn't understand why this pagan girl didn't really want to perform in the multi-hour performance of Handel's Messiah. "Oh I see your star. That means you're Jewish, right?" (counting 1-2-3-4-5, nope sorry. One point short.)
ANIME: I've only seen a few and the one that has been referred to me again and again as a classic (and after seeing it, I wholeheartedly agree) is, without a doubt, "Ghost in the Shell". I've seen it twice now, and I'm still not sure I quite understand it. I'm told when I do, I'll graduate to "Akira".
Rob: YOU'RE A CARTOONIST?! Oh geez, bro. We gotta talk. I *so* need an artist for digitalcarrion. I've got one lead in a second year visual communications major (what can't you major in these days?) but I from nothing about him save for his exceptionally twisted art.
Finder: re: your theatrical experience. Did you happen to see that Patrick Stewart portrayed Othello at the National Theatre (please, someone correct me if I'm wrong on the venue) with an entirely black cast? And with a Vietnam era reinterpretation of the script to boot? And did you also know that the accordion is the second most hated instrument in the world, right after the bagpipes? ::wicked grin::
RE: the passing of Sir Fred Hoyle, NPR's All Things Considered did an interview with his friend and colleague, Sir Martin Reese, of Cambridge University (August 22, 2001 - search at www.npr.org) that not only spoke of his coining the term "Big Bang Theory" as a derogatory comment, but also of his theory that all of the atoms that compose our flesh and blood had to have originated in the hearts of stars. Well worth a listen.
Bud - Miracle Mile is the only film from my adult life that succeeded in giving me recurring nightmares. Nothing like milky white eyes melting into their ocular cavities to make one twitch and froth at the mouth.
Anybody here ever heard of the Drabble? A complete story, one hundred words, no more, no less. Here's a link: http://www.cix.co.uk/~robm/drabble.htm
Catching up on posts
Tends to leave a body tired
So, I just "submit"
L.
Harlan: Thanks for pointing me in the direction of the Kornbluth newsletter. I'll try to get in touch with Mark Rich. And he wrote a book entitled "Valerie?" What is it with SF writers/fans and the name Valerie? Harlan, didn't you write something in one of your books about a Valerie? And didn't Justin have some sort of thing with a Valerie? And now I found out Kornbluth has a book by the same name? Weird. It's not THAT common a name.
And I agree about James Morrow: he's not a writer you go to for a light snack. You better be ready to jump in and sink your teeth into a full-course meal.
Oh, and this wasn't at the movies and it didn't involve spilled soda, but today I was walking by my bank as another gentleman was exiting. We walked up to each other and had one of those "we're right in each other's way" moments where we danced for a split second. I said, "oh, excuse me" in a very nice, light, fluffy, friendly voice (and added a smile), because it was no big deal and only lasted a second. What did he say to me? He mumbled and said, "pain in the ass."
Ah, humanity.
This is mostly for Bud Webster.
Two cleanups, first. Yes, as in sumo wrestling; what the hell did you think I meant, sumo flower-arrangement? Sumo haute cuisine? Sumo, the lost archipelago? Of COURSE sumo wrestling. Big fat guys with not a bowel movement among 'em in fifty years, stompin' and tossin' rice and squattin' like they'd love to HAVE a bowel movement, and then grabbin' each other by the butt-crack thong, thass whut I'M talkin' 'bout!
Second cleanup. Bud, when I came to Hollywood in 1962, it was Bill Hale and his then-wife, actress Leilia Goldoni, whose friendship within a month of my near-friendless arrival got me to move into Beverly Glen, into the treehouse on the hill above their apartment, where I spent the first four, immensely happy and productive years of my life as an Angeleno. I haven't heard from, or of, either of them in years. It saddens me that the first jingle is the concussive advisement that Bill was doing badly. I sorrow for an old friend. (It was also, for those who read my story "The Pale Silver Dollar of the Moon Pays its Way and Makes Change," Bill Hale who invited me to the party at George Stevens's mansion, where I met and chatted with Carl Sandburg.) I sorrow for an old friend.
Those cleaned up, here's what you asked for, Bud.
Pull it down and read it to him at the soiree.
Dear Mr. Bond:
(I'd call you Nelson, but at our ages, kiddo, impertinence flies in the face of the adjurations of my Mother always to respect anyone who has been canny enough to outlast the original color of his hair. And so, on this spiffy occasion, Mr. Bond. Sir.)
There have been few writers in my well-read life whose work I've been more in love with than yours. I came upon you when you were in fullest flower. I was in high school, 1950 I think, and I was a reader of Blue Book magazine. And it was there that I came across "And Lo! The Bird," which I suspect I've reread more than a hundred times; suspect I've read it aloud to high school and writing classes possibly half a hundred; and don't suspect, but KNOW, I've recommended it to readers MORE than a hundred times.
I could do no other than kiss the hem of the garment of He Who Wrote That Story. It so knocked me for a loop that I went and found a copy of the first edition of MR. MERGENTHWIRKER'S LOBBLIES, which hadn't been out of print very long at that time, and I saved my lunch money, literally pinched lunch money pennies, having put the book on layaway at Publix Book Mart in Cleveland, till I had paid enough in tiny weekly increments to own that wonderful collection of whimsies.
To this day, I own that copy. Gee, I'd love it if you signed it for me. My people call that "chutzpah."
Because, if you recall, we had a contretemps, you and I. No fault of yours. My bad. Yet I take pleasure and pride and honor in knowing that though I stumbled before the finish line on the project, it was I who got Nelson Bond writing again. Hot diggity! (And when the anthology finally does get published, I'll be asking you to allow me to pay you yet again, so I can include it, even if it will be a reprint, not an original, as intended. But that's in the future.) Right now...
I'm dismayed, of course, that your last communique with me was less than loving, but what the hell, we're both old farts now, and we are entitled to curmudge anything, anyone, within reach. It's one of the few perks of finally taking those penultimate draughts of entropy and gravity, the universe's answer to Jim Jones's grape Kool-Aid.
I was asked to drop you a note on this lively occasion, and I expressed some trepidation. I don't think I should jump into Bond's face right now, I said, he's probably still vesuvius-pissed at me about "Pipeline..." But I was assured, let me say that again, kiddo, I was A-SHURD that deep down way inside there somewhere, you actually respected me. Well, if that's the case, hot damn!
But if it isn't, well, I can still tell the world that I knew the man who wrote "And Lo! The Bird." Which, in case I haven't been absolutely blunt about it, is one helluva piece of fiction.
With enormous affection, and even more admiration and respect,
congrats on this auspicious occasion,
Yr. pal, Harlan Ellison.
This message board has really taken off lately. Just when I chose to stop lurking, too.
I hope no one minds me mouthing about anime.
I agree with most of the choices here for good anime: Neon Genesis Evangelion, most definitely. I watched it in a marathon 13 hour session. It goes where you least expected it to. Some people were disappointed by the ending, but I thought it was truly brilliant. Most animators would end a "giant robot show" (which it wasn't) with a battlefield slaughter. Trivia: The title could also be translated from Japanese as "New Century Gospel".
I found "Ghost in the Shell" to be murky and "Akira" only pretty. The Manga was much better.
It's a pity that anime in this country is mostly considered fanboy-porn drivel, but I suppose that was brought on by the most vocal viewers. I remember reading a stat (about 1997?) that said 10% of the anime made in Japan was porn (what's called Hentai or Ecchi), whereas 40% of the anime that makes it to the U.S. is of the porn variety. The percentage of hetai imports has been steadily decreasing since then, partly because anime is becoming a bit more mainstream, and the vendors being aware of the reputation that anime has gained here. Most are trying to change that by releasing less or either no hentai.
I was put off when I first saw anime. It was so unlike any of the American cartoons that I had seen. I'm not a semiologist, but the symbols and delivery was so unlike what I had seen before. The culture-difference thing, obviously.
Most Americans I've spoken too about anime usually bring up the misogony that Japan seems to be known for here, which is unfortunately reflected in the Hentai/Ecchi department. However, Japan has made some amazing strides in improving this in their culture and nation, certainly faster changes (in the positive) than most Western nations have made. Still a way to go, of course, but I guess you could say that about any country (yes, I'm just generalizing here).
BUT, other series I'd recommend mostly fall in the comedy/drama category: Urusei Yatsura (especially the second movie), Nadesico and Patlabor being some of my favorites.
It's an unfortunate fact that many of the deep or profound anime doesn't come here, which would add to the perception of anime being, again, fan-boy drivel. This seems to be turning back, fortunately.
*ahem* Thanks for reading.
Just so the Haiku Deity doesn't post alone:
Be vewy, vewy
Quiet. I'm hunting wabbits
Huh-huh-huh-huh-huh.
I tawt I taw a
Puddy-tat. I did! I did
Tee a puddy-tat!
I'm gonna get that
Bird! Sufferin' succotash!
Faw down and go BOOM!
Meep! Meep! Meep-meep-meep
Meep, meep-meep-meep meep meep, meep.
Meep-meep, meep! Meep meep.
Say yore prayers, varmint
Ya goldurned long-eared galoot
Oooh, Ah HATES rabbits.
Fo'tunately, Ah
Keep mah feathers numbuhed for
Such an occasion.
That boy, I say, that
Boy is just about as sharp
As a bowling ball.
Joseph: Glad to hear about the clean bill of health...but if you think having a lady doctor ask some personal questions is a little invasive, be glad ya don't need to get a pap smear from a male doctor. "He touched me in ways no one has before" takes on a new and horribly literal meaning.
Harlan: Sumo, as in WRESTLING, devotee?
Chuck: Yup, he has clinical depression, but his puny little meds (10mg paxil, that's a cat's dose) no longer do squat for him and he refuses to change the situation. Doesn't get any benefit from therapy, though he seems to love dumping everything on me. He likes to spread the joy. He's also completely incapable of doing any serious introspection (or learning any goddamned lessons...one of those guys who keeps sticking his hand into the fire), but that's another story. Unfortunately, I too have clinical depression, though mine is kept more or less well in hand with MY meds. My only regret is that I didn't start taking drugs sooner. I loves 'em.
Bud: I like ya more with every message you post.
Heather: I'm one of those "private performers," which isn't nearly as dirty as it sounds. I played acoustic guitar, fingerstyle, quite well. Outpaced my teacher and several local blues musicians. But as for performing? Forget it. Someone (sorry, forgot who) posted that forcing yourself to perform publicly would grow easier over time, but that's never been the case for me. I freeze, fumble, and fuck up. That's why I never play guitar for anyone but myself (well, okay, a RARE few have heard me play) and I don't read my stories to an audience. INTROVERT has been indeliably stamped on my noggin. The weird thing is, I used to be involved in sales. Had to talk to people all the time, make them trust and like me, essentially convince them to BUY me (again, not dirty), and I had no trouble whatsoever. And I hated doing it. I wish I could combine that skill with two things I really love, but it just isn't happening.
Congratulations on your new job!
Oh, and I do have one story posted online--it's here, actually, in "Contributions." It's called "Life After Eden," and it's kinda old now. Like six or seven years old. I was sorta angry then. I used to have a website with my stories all posted, but I took it down a few years ago.
amy
Title: Inconceivable
"The child is yours, " said Contona Won, "He bares the markings of the Walo child."
I stared, my lips lapsing open, my jaw felt numb.
"It can't be. It's impossible. I've NEVER conceived a child. In fact, they told me I was incapable of doing so."
The small child stared up at me, his small ears pulsing blue and yellow like blood in a vein. He moved his soft golden tail through the sandy soil behind him and looked off at the other children, playing on the gocauna tree and shouting haikus to one another.
"I..I..don't know what to say..."
Won sighed. "He has been waiting for your return these past six years, since you were abducted by the Terrans."
"But..."
"He has the spine spots of your House," Won interjected "and his tail stripes match your own. As you were the last of the House of Walo, what other conclusion could I draw?"
Zeller stared, stunned by this news. A child? A new scion for her House, to carry on the traditions? The possibilities swirled through her mind as she tried to come to grips with the sheer impossibility of the child's existence.
"What is it's...his...name?"
Haiku Deity
Saw Lynn's challenge and saw to
Add to the story
"Why, they shout outside!"
Kid's flaxen posterior
Responding flippant
As five-seven-five
Formed rhythm 'till five by five
So five times the end
With tail flush fast
Contona Won's eyes lit up
Before the sundown
"My oh my!" cried Con
"The scion responds," and so
Walo, not J-Lo
Multihued earlobes
Coruscating with the poem
Of boys and girls
And then the five stopped
While Walo, Type B, ceased wag
And sad, the kids ran
Three planets away
A star ceased casting shadow
Clock striking five beats
Outside, a breeze caught
Doors barred, night taught the tots now
Was it his tale?
Okay, all you blocked-heads, I DARE YOU! In fact, I DOUBLE DARE YOU to add to the story started below. Betcha can't. Betchur SCARED. Betcha all little mommas and papas boys and girls.
Only rule (not a rule, really) Submit your addition or alter what's gone before. Go for it.
Title: Inconceivable
"The child is yours, " said Contona Won, "He bares the markings of the Walo child."
I stared, my lips lapsing open, my jaw felt numb.
"It can't be. It's impossible. I've NEVER conceived a child. In fact, they told me I was incapable of doing so."
The small child stared up at me, his small ears pulsing blue and yellow like blood in a vein. He moved his soft golden tail through the sandy soil behind him and looked off at the other children, playing on the gocauna tree and shouting haikus to one another.
"I..I..don't know what to say..."
----------
How apt a last line. Now MOVE it, y'all.
Laugh.
Heather
Heather:
There's a BUNCH of my writing on my Web site -- www.david-loftus.com -- and access to some more recent stuff on other people's Web sites on the Links page of my site. Especially check out the stuff I wrote this year for www.documentaryfilms.net, which let me stretch out a bit. (And of course, there's my commentaries on three of Ellison's books right here on Rick's site.)
Just to chime in on another subject, I don't read film (or book) critics until after I've seen (or read) the movie (book)(was that confusing enough?). Not even you, Harlan. I base my decisions on what to see by word of mouth or what I see in trailers, just like God intended. Yeah, I've paid to see some crap, but I've also seen things like Six String Samurai, Miracle Mile, and Quiet Sun.
Now, I thoroughly enjoy reading reviewers/critics AFTER the fact. Especially you, Harlan. It's fun to see where I agree and disagree with them (I *liked* Buckaroo Banzai, nyah-nyah), and I will freely admit that quite often there's a lot of insight in the reviews that I don't get by myself.
So, by and large, I don't have any favorites. Except Harlan, of course, because even when we disagree about a movie, his reviews are so cogent and so filled with wit that I don't care if he's wrong.
Joseph:
"...Phagan" may have been a gem to watch, but shooting it sucked, and I was only on the set for *one day.*
First, I was left sitting in my trailer waiting for the script for three hours. Then, when I finally got the script, I still hadn't been to make-up. That was another two hours. When I finally did get into make-up/hair, they were going to tuck my ponytail up under my hat; I said no, I'm a pro, just whack it off. They did (no complaints, I *am* a pro, and it was necessary for the role). So I come out of the trailer looking like a Serbian pimp, get to the set - this is a good six hours late, now, most of the crew is well into golden time - when the 1st AD walks up to me shame-facedly and says, "Bud, I'm sorry, but Billy (Hale, the director) decided to keep you off-camera."
Now don't misunderstand me. I'm not that enamored of seeing my face, enlarged pores and all, on-screen. It's like seeing my name in print - been there, done that, not impressed anymore.
But couldn't that mealy-mouthed sonofabitch have made that decision *before* I was transformed into a Georgia cracker? As it was, I did my lines as inserts, and the pay was the same, but the project had soured on me long before.
They shot in Richmond for several weeks, and Hale just got further and further behind. Finally, after he'd tied up a local mansion for 48 hours with the stars and extras milling around *without shooting an inch of film*, George Stevens took the film away from him and finished it himself. I don't think Hale has worked since.
But like I said, Jack Lemmon was way cool.
Frank,
Rosenbaum? Lord, I can never see what his droning creeds do to appeal to people. I think the final straw was when he made the statement about Baz Lurhmann in his capsule review of Moulin Rogue: "definite improvement over his disgusting first feature, Strictly Ballroom."
Now I can see not liking "Strictly Ballroom." It's not to everybody's tastes. But disgusting?
Ah, I went back to Rosenbaum's actual review of "Strictly Ballroom." There, he calls it "one of the more horrific and unpleasant movies in quite some time." What's up with that?
Now, I certainly applaud a critic who is willing to have an odd opinion. But to refer to a movie like "Ballroom" as disgusting and horrific and not back it up? Seems like a little bit of from-on-high syndrome (which seems to affect Michael Wilmington as well, but certainly not as much).
Regards,
Joseph
By the way, Heather, my first pro sale didn't happen until I was 43; it's never too late.
Heather:
The first of the Bubba Pritchert stories, "Bubba Pritchert and the Space Aliens", is at http://www.wwco.com/scifi/event_horizon/vol1iss3/bubba.shtml for free. The second, "The Three Labors of Bubba", is at Mind's Eye (http://tale.com/titles-free.phtml?title_id=29); you can read the first half for free, but the rest costs something ridiculous like 50 cents.
Those are the only things I have on-line right now, since I've never been terribly happy about on-line reading for pleasure. Aside from places like this, I know *I* certainly don't read for pleasure on-line, and there's even less money in it on-line than off-.
Let me know what you think if you take a look at them.
Oh.. and I forgot to say:
I picked up a collection of Irwin's Shaw's short stories from the library. (There was a real good forward in that book. "Five Decades", I think the book is called.) I'm gonna go "wah" if you tell me I shouldn't be reading Shaw.
...well, if you DO, explain why. I realize SOMETIMES it's even because you KNEW the person, (ie. Harlan) and you had a run-in with them and your view of their writing changed. But that's no reason for ME not to like a book. Hope you get my point here--it's on the tippytop of my head.
I read the first short story about a football player ("80 yards" or something like that) and was immediately enthralled. Shaw paints such amazing characters and a sense of place in such a brief time.
I've always had a bug up my ass about guys who were on the football team in high school and go on and on about the "glory days." It makes me say, "What about now--the days you are living through? If your high school football days were your BEST days, I feel sorry for you.
But this piece.. and the way Shaw played it--I swear, it changed my view, forever, on the importance of having a "time" like that in your life. I'm sure it had a lot to do with the significance it played in the rest of the story.. but still.
It made me cry.
Actually, I keep hearing about these books I SHOULDN'T read--s'plain it a bit more to me. Point out some elements here and I DON'T mean in a critiquey sorta way. I read a quote from Bradbury who said you should read the good, the bad, the crap, the eagles.. all of it, to get a sense of what writing is all about.
I know Stephen King commented on how some of these popular writers get a successful book and continuing writing the SAME one, over and over.
But how do _I_ know you ain't jus' telling me what books you like, due to a personal preference? I started digging in again a little with mystery but it struck me how I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY was getting tired of the genre. And THAT'S just a personal preference--not a reason to read or not read a book.
Comments? (though you've been damn right on with your suggestions, I must admit. Thank you, all. But I don't want to simply move from ONE limited view -- my old one, let's say; to a NEW limited view. Hope that makes sense.
Heather
I was shocked to find out that Harlan wasn't informed about John Simon writing for the National Review. Simon seems way to elitist for my tastes. It's as if he looks to hate every film he comes across. Can't the guy just enjoy a fucking film? Actually, the best movie critic is, Jonathan Rosenbaum, of the Chicago Reader. He is quite literary in his writing style, but has a bit more of an open mind about films.
Actually some of the best debates are in news-groups. But I will admit, the right wing wacho's come out of the honeycomb. But isn't it fun to pop their overheated baloon?
Vidal is my hero, no doubt about it. He says the things that noone would dare, but at the same time unlike Chomsky, Vidal isn't completely censored from the mainstream media. But I was shocked at an interview Vidal did with, Larry Kramer, of ACTUP, the radical gay group. Kramer suggested that George Bush should be given the Aids virus, and Vidal was in agreement.
Bud:
Per your comments:
Cool *smile*
I think -- I'm 44 -- as writing is just another foray into yet another form of creativity for me, I don't have all the usual heebeegeebees that some of my younger writer friends have. It's like, one day, I just woke up and said, "I need to try something else here." And I came upon this idea of writing.
And as I've DONE all the anal/tightass/worrywart stuff with others things I'd been into -- and being older, too, I think -- I simply decided NOT to sweat it; whatever happens with this gig, happens. So I comPLETELY understand what you mean about giving birth to a wonder of your own that holds you in immense awe; yet your neighbors turn their heads away when you proffer it to them -- and I'm glad you had Mary to help you through it *grin* -- and you're ready to bite a bullet; but I'm glad you've continued.
You sound like writing is your blood--no, that's not a typo.
Heather
P.S. Do you (or anyone since I last asked) have any work I might access; by internet or offline? I would like to read you guys.
It actually didn't surprise me to see Simon at the National Review. No, it's not because I expected him to be a reactionary; it's because a lot of conservatives like to affect a love for the "eternal verities," like clarity, truth, raptures over the classics, and disdain for "fashions" like civil rights and feminism. It's sort of like the way the _American Spectator_'s crew tried to present themselves as latter-day Menckens.
And for years, Simon did seem to have a bug up his ass about gays in theatre and film. He seems to have worked his way through that phase: I read a review he wrote of a new biography of John Gielgud, and Simon discussed the actor's romantic life with respect and without any evident flinching.
What I like about Simon derives from something that Simon once said (and that Harlan's quoted here and there)-- that the job of a critic is not to evaluate stuff as good or bad, but to engage the reader and make him or her _think_. I usually disagree with Simon's reviews if only because we obvious want different things from film, but he occasionally raises a point or gloms onto some theme about the culture that I hadn't quite distilled on my own. (That's why I actually enjoy finding conservative writers who have some _substance_ behind them, and who strive for honesty in their work-- Robert Conquest, for example-- and have no patience with peddlers of attitude or corrupt argument, like Dinesh D'Souza or Rush Limbaugh or Charles Murray.)
Bud,
"Murder" is actually a fine piece of work to watch. Too bad it's out of print at the moment. And hey, anything that gives Charles Dutton work is just fine by me (though, knowing more about the Mary Phagan murder these days, the memory of the umbrella crushing scene gives me a smile).
So what did you have to do with this little gem?
Regards,
Joseph
Joseph:
++"The Ballad of Mary Phagan?" Only production I'm familiar with was the 80's TV movie "The Murder of Mary Phagan," with Jack Lemmon and Peter Gallagher (and Kevin Spacey, for that matter). There's also a musical called "Parade," though I'm sure that's not what you're talking about.++
"Ballad..." was the shooting title, it was changed for broadcast. I've never watched the goddam thing, myself, it was just too much of a pain in the ass to shoot. Jack Lemmon, though, was a hoot; he gave me a fill out of his tobacco pouch.
Heather:
Forgive me, I meant to congratulate you on nailing the job and didn't. Belated congrats, and I hope you're getting paid enough.
Heather,
"Lain" is an oddity. I've never seen anime quite like it. Surreal, disturbing, and disjointed, but compelling nonetheless. I found myself sucked into the character of Lain and couldn't figure out why. I also found the opening music (BOA's "Duvet") to be hauntingly appropriate. The hard part was watching it, subtitles and all, while I was extremely tired.
By the way, if you liked "Ghost in the Shell" you might also like (if you haven't seen it already) "Akira". The story notwithstanding, the backgrounds, character designs and the music (especially in the opening scenes) are excellent.
-Andrew
"Writer's block? Perhaps "Writer's Lack of Discipline", but I haven't had a spot yet that really hung me up when I had a full head of steam and an idea of where I wanted to go"
Finder, I've always thought of Writer's Block (every bit as worthy of capitalization as God or Joel Schumacher) as precisely the condition when one doesn't have an idea and where to go with it.
I've had writer's block for the last 5 years. Now let me be clear on one point. Some folks here are writers or aspire to make a vocation of it. I never did. It was just a hobby for me. But I used to write freely. Ideas were never a problem and I had fun doing it and I wrote all the time.
Then I went through a 4 year stretch where everyone related to me died one by one all in different ways and the idea well just dried up and never has filled again. At first, I figured it was a normal reaction to enduring the deaths of so many loved ones in such a short period of time. I figured it would just go back to the way it always was in time. But months stretched into years and I am still in the paralyzing grip of blank page syndrome.
Its feels strange like waking up one day and realizing you don't need to breathe anymore. You're still alive and you get through your daily events just fine but something you took for granted and did every day just is gone.
Maybe it'll still come back one day but I no longer expect it.
Heather,
Congrats on the new job, and you were correct that the movie is called "The Ghost in the Shell."
"Lain" is an odd movie. Saw it last week and I'm not sure what I think yet - I'll probably have to watch it again.
Bud,
"The Ballad of Mary Phagan?" Only production I'm familiar with was the 80's TV movie "The Murder of Mary Phagan," with Jack Lemmon and Peter Gallagher (and Kevin Spacey, for that matter). There's also a musical called "Parade," though I'm sure that's not what you're talking about.
Regards,
Joseph
Performers? Aside from roles in the short films made among my merry little band of creative wingnuts and co-conspirators, I was once the only Caucasian member of an African-American theater company. It was a fascinating experience. There's a certain reality check to coming on stage about fifteen minutes into a show, and as you hit your mark, you hear a voice from somewhere in the front rows, beyond the footlights - a melodious child's tone, filled to bursting with innocence and awe, that filters up to your ears as if the entire auditorium has been rendered mute for this single observation to be zeroed in on and heard and etched into memory: "Mommy - that's a WHITE man."
I also play the accordion, but am sorely out of practice. I could probably still butcher "My Bonnie", though.
Sir Fred Hoyle? Damn. I'm actually more familiar with him as an astronomer and scientist - coined the phrase "the big bang", though he never supported the theory - but I do recall "A For Andromeda" from back in high school.
Bud - Welcome; I've lurked a lot out on a.f.h-e, and it's great to see you in the mix here.
Harlan - Thirty-four cents later, we discover what a friendly neighborhood Finder is for. The shark swims the Marianas trench in search of shiny nickels. Talk to your postman on Tuesday.
Grand Masta' H. Salt, esq. - Nuthin' but love, GM - 's'all good. Your advice to Rob gave me flashbacks: Had a homeboy back at SUNY who dissuaded a mooch from takin' his eats by adding a little Vitamin P to a box of granola. Moochie was illin when he got the 411 on the all natural additives - not my scene, and I definitely steered clear of homeboy's Cracker Jacks, but you've never seen a face go slack fastuh than that day.
Writer's block? Perhaps "Writer's Lack of Discipline", but I haven't had a spot yet that really hung me up when I had a full head of steam and an idea of where I wanted to go
David:
Yeah, I've done the choral thing too, with both the local symphony chorus and others, and I played in garage bands from 1965 to the late '70s; there's a lot of magic there. Never recorded, at least not seriously, but that wasn't the point. The point was to get girls.
Chorally, we did everything from Penderecki to Tallis, with the Missa Solemnis thrown in for roughage. Garage-ishly, I was split-running a Silvertone bass through a Fender Showman with two cabinets and a Silvertone Twin-Twelve with another pair of cabs; I had a Cry-Baby pedal and a Maestro Fuzz in-line, and I added a German knock-off of an EchoPlex and whatever reverb and tremolo effects the amps already had. It took me an hour to set up and break down, but I could blow ANY other bass player out of the room. And did, at the frequent Battles of the Bands held at the local Skatelands and VFW halls.
I find no dichotomy between those two musical experiences, by the way. Each was ecstatic in its own way.
I built a Theremin once, too, but the less said about that the better.
Heather:
++You're telling me, you got writer's block, because: 1)you don't think your work is "good" enough. 2)you're winning accolades and even awards and you're worried you are a fake and that you won't win more awards.++
Well, no, not quite. I mentioned the awards simply as an indicator of what the Analog readers thought about the stories. Winning awards is NOT terribly important to me. It's nice, and I doubt I'd refuse one if offered, but that's not why I do this. When Mary says "Wow!" about a phrase or idea, that's plenty of award.
And, no, I'm not a fake - but I didn't know that a year ago. Setting aside all false modesty, I couldn't have written "Christus Destitutus" or "Frog Level (is Not Congruent to) Frog Level" if I were.
See, a block isn't a logical, rational problem; no depression ever is. This is about, as I said earlier, baggage. I could detail my childhood and what my parents were like and how many times I got beat up at school for being a smartass, but none of that is particularly germaine. Well, it's absolutely germaine, really, but it certainly isn't rare.
But it's all baggage I should have dealt with loooooong ago, and didn't, and a couple of years ago this specific piece of luggage rose up and bit me on the ass. With some help, and a lot of honesty, and Mary's untiring support, I came out of it.
This is not to say that it won't recur at some point down the line, because the habits of 40+ years aren't so easily broken. But I've did it once, and I can dood it again if necessary. I know that now.
As for the fear of being found out as a fake...well, I'll just say that there are writers whom I respect enormously who like my stuff, and they have absolutely no vested interest in saying so if they didn't. I can't ignore that.
Enough of that; although I'm damned proud that I'm accepted as a peer by writers whose work Ive read for decades, there's still enough Baptist CoA in me to feel guilty about saying so.
When I finished "Christus Destitutus" (out next year in CROSSROADS: SOUTHERN STORIES OF THE FANTASTIC), I decided it was the best thing I'd ever written, and possibly the best thing I ever WOULD write. It was the former.
I couldn't *give* it away. Nobody wanted to buy it. Granted, it's controversial - the first line is "Jesus lay dying in a $5 flop." - but I ran up against something I didn't want to believe still existed, especially not in our field: taboos. I was told by at least one editor, and several other writers, that I didn't stand a chance of selling it to a magazine, that my only shot at publication was to some anthology. Well, that did eventually happen.
But in the meantime, the piece I was proudest of, the one that took the most out of me when I wrote it, the one that made me cry when I wrote it and again when I read it to a roomful of people at a local con, sat gathering dust like the worst of trunk stories. That took a lot of the heart right out of me, and those goddam voices in the back of my head started niggling. And got louder.
No, Heather, it didn't have anything to do with being afraid I'd never win a Hugo. Nobody wanted my best and handsomest child, and they've all been in the business a lot longer than I have, and they must know more than I do, so it must NOT be my best and handsomest and if it isn't, then where the hell does that leave me? Adrift, if I may steal unashamedly, off the Islets of Langerhans, and slowly drowning.
But I got out of it, with some help and encouragement from people I couldn't ignore, and if it does happen again, it won't be as bad and I won't sink as far.
A last word on awards, at least for this note: the cheaply printed certificate I was handed by Buzz Potter, the editor and publisher of the Hobo Times when I won the NHA poetry contest means more to me than *any* Nebula or Hugo, no matter how fancy or expensive they are.
Brian,
Thanks very much for the Vidal/Chomsky leads. I actually know a number of people myself who are crypto-lotsa things. When you designated the material I put through an online search and located the whole damn thing, including the Buckley account and when he dropped the lawsuit. I'll read it later. Who says the internet is useless and negligible?
Alex,
An awful lotta things wuz trapped in the body of Janis Joplin!
I remember Steve Gerber really well from my comics days. I'm gradually pushing toward graphic novels myself - writing and drawing them (the graphics will be done on the pc, if I can ever get used to the damned "etcher-sketch" stiples; I still work free-hand).
I appreciate what you're saying. But apart from the advantages and disadvantages between drawing a sequence and filming one, written narrative in a comic is generally more accepted anyway. The language of the camera is different. And expectations differ in EVERY medium.
In the case with that movie, even if they felt some exposition was needed - and some brief lines would have been fine - it was superfluous; they went way past what was needed. Like a mantra my lips began repeating, "oh, c'mon, lady", "oh, c'mon, lady."
I am SURE you will hear this phrase from me often, but, what the fuck...
I GOT THE JOB!
H
I tried an anime club here on campus last year. I love comic book art and illustration so I thought I'd give it a try. I started to get bored with the cutsy and "whacky" (as the club president put it) stuff and left, but I did see two things I thought rather cool (correct me on the title here, any of you anime freaks)..it was a rather moody, cool, Bladerunner-like full-length film called "Ghost in the Shell" (I think) It asked some interesting questions; and a series called "Serial Experiments: Lain" What a storyline!
Heather
Harlan: Yep, as Brian Siano pointed out, our old buddy John Simon has been residing in the Dark Tower of the National Review for a couple of decades, now. Whenever I'm at the local newsstand, I always conceal the latest Buckley's Folly inside a copy of The Nation or Mother Jones, so I can read Simon's film column while keeping my bleeding-heart bonafides intact. (I never actually BUY the thing--what are you, freakin' NUTS or something?!?!?) Yes, Simon's reviews frequently degenerate to the level of the cheap-shot; yes, you often get the distinct feeling that, on the whole, he'd rather be reviewing the new Stoppard play than sitting still for the latest Spielberg; and, yes, he has a decided blind spot for the simple pleasures of anything that deigns to entertain without getting hoity-toity about it. But, he is a vital corrective to the dearth of tough critical thinking in today's often-flaccid movie reviews--Simon ALWAYS demands nothing less than the highest standards from today's filmmakers, and expects that the audience should, too. And, as you pointed out, Harlan, the man's prose is a textbook example of flawless grammar and peerless syntax. Long may he rave. And keep your eye out for actresses bearing plates of spaghetti, John.
Hi Paul, I like your stuff.. I'm Heather
Paul, you're missing a great idea here. Revamp that web site; start a new religion --- call it "We be whiter than white" and you could make a killing selling subscriptions and "hot Clorox enemas" for purge parties.
Trust me. I've got a good feeling about this.
Heather
Heather asked: "You're telling me, you got writer's block, because: 1)you don't think your work is "good" enough. 2) you're winning accolades and even awards and you're worried you are a fake and that you won't win more awards."
The nearest thing I can think of to compare it to is a common ailment among women: an obsession with one's physical appearance, especially relative thinness, and being convinced that one is not "good enough" in that department even when other people are constantly falling all over themselves to be near you and compliment you.
Most writers have it especially hard, if they're not blockbuster sellers, because they work alone, and they rarely hear from anyone who's read them (IS there anybody out there, really?), so it's very easy to fall into various head trips. Hence, an obsession with awards, which are somewhat tangible and (semi-demi-hemi-)objective assessments of one's "worth," may develop.
To all and sundry who spoke of the nutbrains at the alt. listserv.
You trying to tell me that there's a guy on that listserv who HATES Harlan Ellison? I thought places like that were for FANS of the particular subject. Oh god, testosterooone!
I remember the first listserv I subscribed to. What was it called.. hmmm..Nosh? Some kind of writer's group. Members were jumping ship slap dash and moving to the other listserv I was directed to. It was almost a splinter group of all the people from this first group who had grown tired of the bloody individual who ran the listserv -- in this case, I really think he had some mental problems.
But here he was, in a group of writers, and he slammed people mercilessly. Insanity, I tell ya. I didn't stay long.
Also, to note, as with a wink to the "Robs" in our group: I've met guys in person who have HUGE LOUD ROARS when they speak on a list; in person, they can't even look you in the eye and can barely put two sentences together. (NO, I don't mean Rob's like that -- I've never met him -- but you get my point here.)
Listservs and forums have a LEEETLE bit of roleplaying going on in 'em, if you hadn't noticed. I bet this creep on that alt. listserv is a queeker in real life; and he gets his kicks kicking the crap outa whoever or whatever's on this forum.
Gawd, just don't bring them in here, okay? *laugh*
Heather
Re: John Simon. I'm surprised to hear he's been reviewing for the National Review, but (on the one hand) film reviewing is not necessarily a political activity -- or it doesn't have to be -- and (on the other) after having read hundreds of Simon's pieces (mostly 15 to 20 years old, and mostly between book covers), I can't say I've ever gotten the clear impression he was NOT a political conservative.
I'd go on reading him anyway, simply because he uses so many big woids and can increase your vocabulary, if nothing else. Does anyone know whether he still does a language/English usage column anywhere? I liked his stuff along that line better than Buchanan/Safire/Newman et al.
Who's everybody's favorite film critic, by the way -- including you, Harlan? Mine's always been Stanley Kauffmann of the New Republic.
Trivia notes: Simon, a Harvard grad, was born in the former Yugoslavia.
Heather asked: "By the by, do we have any OTHER entertainers here? I mean, theatre, stand up, that sorta thing?"
I would venture a guess that the percentage of performers in this enclave, since it is made up of a big number of readers and writers (especially readers and writers of speculative fiction), is probably a bit lower than the percentage of wordsmiths. Along with Bud, I'm an exception.
I've sung in a crack community chamber choir (which took me to international choral festivals in Missoula and Estonia, as well as the stage of Carnegie Hall), and with a symphonic choir (which has recorded on CD with the Oregon Symphony); danced in morris dance teams in Boston and Portland (for which I also play fiddle); read literature (Bradbury, Donne, Carroll, Fitzgerald, Marquez, Cortazar, MFK Fisher) aloud to live audiences at Powell's Books and local Borders outlets; recorded books for blind and elderly housebound listeners as a volunteer for the Massachusetts Association for the Blind and "Golden Hours," a radio broadcast service here in Portland; acted in college and amateur community theater (a little Shakespeare, Camus, and T.S. Eliot, as well as several Gilbert & Sullivans, "Annie," Ayckbourn's "The Norman Conquests")....
But that's all just for fun. I'm primarily a writer. I guess.
Hm...Interesting interview. And to THINK the only reason I went DOWN to that area yesterday was to look for food. It's a cashiering position. If they're interested, they'll let me know in a day or so.
Anyway, back to Bud:
I understand perfectly what led you to writer's block. It helps me a lot. Thanks, Bud. *smile* Hope you catch my drift here -- I'm attempting to be as straight with people on this forum as I possibly can. (Tis a nice feeling to be able to DO that and not "make nice" all the damn time for the tinheads out there in the "real" world.)
A question: (and I put this to others, including Harlan, as I've noticed he dotes on one of these aspects as well, sometimes...)
You're telling me, you got writer's block, because: 1)you don't think your work is "good" enough. 2)you're winning accolades and even awards and you're worried you are a fake and that you won't win more awards.
*sigh*
Per point two: Since WHEN was this all about winning awards? (Please believe me, I'm interested and intent as to your welfare and not being a jerk--I worry about how I'm coming across but I'm also trying to find answers here and sometimes, while trying to get to my point, I miss and you feel hurt. NOT the intent. *smile*)
I DON'T understand where all this award crap = "I must be a good writer; the sci-fi crowd gave me an award." I KNOW where it started: They were trying to raise the level of quality and maybe even visibility of science fiction writers.
But when the purpose of "getting an award" drives you to NOT write, Houston, I've got a problem.
Now, as to your feeling your work isn't good enough; I simply ask you this: Did you do the best you could do at the time? (note the last three words) Are you planning to get better?
Well, then, why the worry? HUH? I ask ya.. HUH? *smile*
Did you pop out of the womb and your mom said: "What? You can't drive a car? What? You can't discuss the ethical structure of the universe? What? Are you DUMB OR SUMMAT?
*pant pant* Calm.. Heather .. calm
If you are doing your best work TODAY.. that's all that matters. And if you want to improve, STRIVE to improve, reduce flaws, smooth edges, learn more...
That's enough for me.
Who am I?
I'm the one who reads you. K?
Heather (oh.. and sorry if this idea has already been conveyed to Bud. I'm at the bottom of the posts.)
Re Peg's question on killfiling. That's a command or setting that people use to filter out messages by some criteria-- for example, if the "Author" field contained a particular name, or if the "Subject" contained certain words. If a message meets the criteria, my message browser just doesn't show it to me.
Alex Krislov's comment about his story reminds me of an odd occurrence from some fiction I tried to write once. The idea was that some minor Sixties band, who'd had maybe one hit single, had regrouped as part of an oldies tour, and as they toured creepy things'd start happening that gradually revealed something horrible from their collective past. (I hadn't read George Martin's _The Armageddon Rag_ yet.) Only wrote the opening scene, where the venue they were rehearsing had this kid who ran the displays on the video monitors, and the kid had made tapes of those gloopy oil-on-water things they used to project on scrims at the Fillmore West. (Sort of a new technology meets old-style thing.)
A few years later, I go to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and they're having a very nice exhibition on "The Psychedelic Years." I walk into a side room, where they have a stage set up with the Grateful Dead's circa-1967 equipment... and video monitors showing those gloopy oil-on-water images from the old Fillmore. It wasn't as strange as the feeling I had seeing the wreckage of Otis Redding's plane on display, but it was a bit... odd.
(BTW, at Hall'o'Fame, check out the displays of rock magazines. Somewhere in the display, there's an issue of _Crawdaddy_ with Harlan's name prominently on the cover.)
This just in from CNN--Fred Hoyle has died. Another great departs for, well, other parts.
Rob:
Yeah, the endless exposition at the end of "The Others" is a bit of a drag, but sometimes it's difficult to convey subtle things through visuals alone. I once wrote a horror comic called "Is It Live?" about live wannabe rockers having their souls sucked out to revive the bodies of dead, but famous, rockers. My editor was Steve Gerber, and the two of us spent days trying to come up with a visual that would convey the notion that a girl's soul was trapped in the revived body of Janis Joplin. Finally, we gave up and I used straight exposition. I've always felt the story was a failure because of that. It's _hard_ to do some things visually.
--Invisibly yours,
The hairy guy in Cleveland
Heather:
Thanks for the welcome, I'm glad I tried this place. Great food and the wait-staff is terrific.
++By the by, do we have any OTHER entertainers here? I mean, theatre, stand up, that sorta thing?++
I've done several movies, two of which show up with uncomfortable frequency on cable: Dream West and The Ballad of Mary Phagan. The first was indeed a dream, the second a nightmare.
A couple of (then) local animators, Steve Segal (now at Pixar) and Phil Trumbo (who also played bass for the Orthotonics) did a short film called Futuropolis back about 20 years ago. I not only had an on-screen role, but did a half-dozen character voices as well.
Harlan's opinion of my tendency to be "much too serious about almost everything" notwithstanding, I did try standup a couple of times - and floated offstage in my own flop-sweat. I'm better at improv.
Let's see. I've done quite a bit of stage work locally, and a LOT of readings; one of the high points of my life was winning the National Hobo Association poetry contest last year and getting to read my stfnal hobo poem, "The Ballad of Kansas McGriff" to a crowd of several hundred hobos. I even wore my propeller-fez. Afterward, an old 'bo named Jungle Jack, who was a sf fan back in the '30s, grabbed me by the hand and said, "Boy, that's the best damn pome I ever HEARD!" Now, THAT'S praise. SCREW the Nebula voters.
As for being long-winded, well, yeah, I tend to be. I just hope I don't bore anybody while I'm doing it.
Harlan, I got a question for you: back in the mid-'70s or so, the people at Unearth released a cassette of you being roasted that was badly edited and incomplete. Any possibility of it ever being re-done and issued by the HERC?
Bud:
A short reply. I'll be back in a bit. Maybe found a job, IN THE DAMN BUILDING. *snort*
Welcome, Bud.
Now as to talky.. bullshit to that. If you feel like talking, talk. If you feel like talking for a long, long, long, long, long while, DO so.
You SOUND like you have something to say. It's more about THAT then how long one's posts are. Dig?
Thanks for the writer's block info. I'll comment a tad on that shortly.
Heather -- no pixy dust here. The closest I ever got to a Disney would be standing beside Harlan while he does his Mickey Mouse impression. By the by, do we have any OTHER entertainers here? I mean, theatre, stand up, that sorta thing?
Jesse Helms: I was involved with Jim Hunt's senatorial campaign (then Governor of N.C.)to oust Jesse from office back in '84 (or was it '86-tempus fugit)when Jim was the Democratic opponent. Helms' campaign was full of dirty tricks and racism. Despite that, Hunt made a very close showing and we gave Helms a good scare. If I recall it was a 51/49 percentage for Helms. (All at the height of Reagan's power and when the word "Democrat" was unspoken for fear of retribution by the conservative yahoos.) N.C. at that time had racists elements. Cafe owners were still refusing to serve african-americans. One of the african-american basketball players at my college was threatened he would be shot if he played a particular game. There are some good folks there, but the stinkers really made the place smell.
Goodness! Welcomed not only by the thundering herd, but by Himself as well. I AM honored.
Harlan:
++Hi, Bud. Welcome to the 'hood. You will enjoy yourself like crazy here. These are terrific, whip-smart conversationalists. It's a cheery little salon where men and women of good hearts and sane minds fret and gibber and pontificate ever so grandly. It's like the best late-night bullfrog and pizza dorm-klatsch you've ever attended. I've grown very fond of each and every one of the litle fuckers. And having you duck in and out is a lovely bonus.++
Sort of like when I talk to myself, right? Of course, right. But, yeah, I'd noticed that the level of discourse was an order of magnitude or two higher than elsewhere, so kudos to Rick for having us and to you for the willingness to participate.
++Folks, I vouch for Webster. He's big, and ungainly, and tends to be much too serious about almost everything; but I'm sure you'll break his spirit in no time atall atall. When he starts spewing milk outta his snout, you'll know he's joined this cockeyed caravanserie for true.++
Like hell. I was primo class clown from junior high right straight through college, boychik. I made *teachers* spew milk. And I'll get you yet.
"Ungainly?" Why, I'll have you know that I move with the grace of a LION. A well-fed lion, perhaps, and one that could stand to shed the odd pound or two (most of my poundage is, in fact, a bit odd), but graceful nonetheless. If you ignore the curb finders on my shoes.
O...s and P....r are bozos, immediately recognizable by their orange hair and big shoes. P....r is harmless, if annoying as hell, but O...s strikes me as the kind of yutz that waits for unsuspecting writers outside panels with a cup of warm...but you get the idea.
Alt.fan.harlan-ellison was started by someone who meant to do you honor, I have no doubt, and by and large that's what it's stayed; you may recall a situation with an abusive personality in the newsgroup several years ago which you successfully defused by having Rick post a message from you revealing that said trouble-maker was, in fact, a friend of yours who *thought* he was doing you a favor. Same place, same situation, different assholes.
What it has become now may very well not be permanent, but the atmosphere here is so congenial, so comfortable (already!) that I doubt I'll go back for more than a quick look.
And, however knee-jerk I may be about syntax and such, I have no desire to turn myself in to a grammar-cop here. Why, I won't even correct you when you use the word "irregardless."
++Again, Bud...welcome to the place where everybody knows your name.++
Thank you, Harlan. It's nice to be home. Cheers.
Rick:
++Bud's been an friend to this site and this editor for damn near as long as Webderland has been active. Please make him welcome.++
Huh, that's right, I have. Last month I ran across the first message you sent me years ago when the site was in the planning stages; I was on a local free-net then. You done GOOD, boy!
++Any issues with that?++
None whatsoever. Screw 'em, let them find their own dates.
Dumb question - can you explain exactly what you mean by "killfiled" wrt message boards? (I'm familiar with the practice of filtering email by sender, etc., but am not sure how this is applied on a message board - esp. if you can change names when you post)
Harlan - Never did I think the day would come when you would explain why you'd actually been *away* from an internet website for 3 or 4 days! There must be a run on ice skates in hell.
The famous Vidal-Buckley "debate" was just part of the show at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. I haven't seen it, because ABC never runs it, and various sources say the tape doesn't exist (yeah, right).
But if you find an anthology of articles from Esquire titled _Smiling through the Apocalypse_, you'll find paired articles about the event written by Vidal and Buckley. (You will also find Gay Talese's profile of Frank Sinatra, in which The Voice decides to pick a fight with a screenwriter named Harlan Ellison.) There's another account on Fred Kaplan's biography of Vidal, and if you can locate John Judis's biography of Buckley you'll probably find another account.
If I recall, Vidal claimed that he'd wanted to call Buckley a "crypto-Fascist," but for some reason he blocked on the word. So he called Buckley a crypto-Nazi instead. Buckley, in turn called Vidal a "goddamn queer" and threatened to sock him on the nose. The subsequent articles went into even greater detail, preented in vastly more erudite fashion-- Buckley denouncing Vidal's attention on sex, and Vidal discussing the quasi-Klanlike funtime activities of Buckley's family-- and sparked a lawsuit or two.
If you're a fan of watching Buckley threaten violence against his betters, check out the wonderful documentary _Manufacturing Consent: Noam Chomsky and the Media_. There's a clip from a 1960's episode of _Firing Line_, where Chomsky is patiently discussing the immorality of the Vietnam War. Buckley says he admires Chomsky's calm-- especially since "I'd like to punch you in the face."
It’s always a fun trip listening to the mellifluous, erudite James Mason-like tones of Gore Vidal. On the tube he once had a confrontation with the ostensibly loquacious William F. Buckley that became almost legendary. Regretfully, I never saw it. I was told he reduced Buckley to a babbling idiot, revealing him for what he really was ("...well, you’re a fag and I’m going to punch you right in the nose!") and still is. Man, I REALLY wish I’d seen that.
OK. Here comes the take-it-or-leave-it 2 cent bullshit question, Harlan. What has YOUR take on Vidal always been as a writer, a critic, a historian?
Listening to the two of you on a panel or on the radio together would’ve been BLOODY royal!
Rick,
Re:'The Others'. I absolutely agree with you; if it's anything that filtered through the distractions for me that night it's the ending and its endless exposition. I like the film, but Kidman sits there musing ceaselessly, explaining EVERYTHING to us dense folk in the audience to make sure we get it. The whole damn thing is literalized as the movie's premise gets pounded into our heads. I hate that and I'm suprised I tolerated it as much as I did. It almost ruins the whole ending. It's the sort of thing I get down on Spielberg for all the time. 'The Sixth Sense' revealed its twist ending through visual data, without a word of dialogue; the way that sort of thing SHOULD be done.
So much for my own consistancy; I guess some of its timeless "haunting" elements made up for it sufficiently (as opposed to older pop-outings like 'Poltergeist').
Hmmmm... Anime. For the most part, I have to agree with our old pal Paul Riddell about most anime being nothing but porn for people who only get excited at the sight of animated breasts. However, there are a couple of series that I have quite enjoyed.
Neon Genesis is a funky little series which somewhat successfully (and somewhat unsuccessfully) integrates giant fighting robots with dialectic investigations into self, identity, and existence. Worth checking out, with some of the most disturbing scenes in animation I have ever seen. The english dubbing is nothing short of excellent. I've actually collected this series on DVD, I rate it so highly.
Another is Cowboy Bebop, which, from what I've seen, is an entertaining show with one of the best opening songs I've heard in a long, long time. Only seen half a dozen episodes, but I liked what I saw.
---Peter (who turns into a grammatical gremlin after midnight)
P.S.
Anime (good Anime, anyhow) isn't really an art form for those who expect tight plots and good character developement (there are exceptions however). Also forgot to mention "Roughnecks: The Starship Troopers Chronicles". While I could not stand the live- action-farce of a movie, the computer animated series is none to shabby.
-Andrew
Rick/Joseph,
RE: "Big-O"
Kinda between sixes and sevens on this one. The animation, character design and overall feel of the show is pretty good (if it looks somewhat familiar, it should. "Big-O" is done by the same studio as "Batman: The Animated Series"), you're right about the plot of show not making sense and is quite predictable.
Anime worth watching? "Ghost in the Shell", "Battle Angel" and an odd 13 episode series, "Serial Experiments: Lain", are in my estimation, flawed, but enjoyable to watch. "Lain" especially. While disjointed and not just a little odd, "Lain" was, for me, very compelling partly because I was disturbed by it. Just be sure that you're wide awake before sitting down to watch (especially if you get a hold of the subtitled version).
My two pesos.
-Andrew
Rick, Rick, oh my dear Rick - -
Of course "The Big O" doesn't make complete sense. It doesn't make sense to the characters as well. They have amnesia - they're stumblin' round trying to figure things out along with the audience. Personally, I enjoyed the mystery.
Of course, whadda I know? My guilty pleasure is Ramna 1/2.
As for Jesse Helms, I find myself annoyed that various media outlets keep referring to him as being opposed by gay and lesbian rights groups, as well as feminist groups. That's the kind of divisive bullshit that kept that hairy-assed loser of a tobacco-cock sucker in office. I want to call every damn paper (and Don Wycliff over at the the Tribune should be ashamed) and explain to them the concept of human rights campaigns. Helms wwas able to play one group against another for so long hat he actually had a bunch of people fooled into believing he was a statesman. One of the saddest days in American history was when Helms addressed the United Nations. Right now, there's a lot of foreign countries breathing a sigh of relief at never having to deal with him again. My he end up a hundred times worse than Mo Udall, a man who was a thousand times better than him.
Regards,
Joseph
Just caught Joseph's anime recommendation after my post, and thank god. I can warn you in time.
DO NOT - *DO* *NOT* - TRY TO WATCH "THE BIG O". IT WILL MAKE YOU WANT TO PLUNGE MULTIPLE JOB'S PLANT SPIKES INTO YOUR EYEBALLS.
Yes - FASCINATING background. Absolutely STUNNING atmosphere. And some of the episode plot outlines are pretty interesting. But it's a train wreck when you get past that, and eventually you have to. It's like someone had a really great idea for a show (cityide amnesia plus giant robots!) and then didn't bother to think for even fifteen seconds about how that would actually work out. Nothing in that show makes a lick of sense - a stickler for verisimilitude like Harlan would be vomiting blood by the first commercial break. Not to mention that outside of the first couple of episodes the dialogue and voiceovers sound like they were crafted by Dashell Hammet's aphasic kid brother.
It's only good - in my opinion - if you compare it to crap like TENCHI (outside of the fight scenes) or SAILOR MOON.
I'm sorry. I missed an instance of O---s's name. AND I attributed the suggestion to Bill Warren instead of Rick Wyatt. I apologize for the mistakes.
Bud: the last piece I published was "Blue Smoke, Mirrors, and Designer Science: How the Public Relations Industry Compromises Democracy" for _Skeptic_ magazine about two years ago. I like writing for Skeptic, alongside of people like James Randi and Michael Shermer, but I've tended to focus on topics that are a little abaft of the usual debunking stuff. (Personally, I really miss having the regular column I had at _The Humanist_. It kept the writing engines warm, and once in a while a piece of mine'd get reprinted in a textbook somewhere. Too bad we all resigned in protest.)
Harlan: I'm surprised that you didn't know Simon was writing for the _National Review_. He's been doing their film column for almost twenty years, as far as I know. He does theatre reviews for _New York_ magazine as well, and it's kind of obvious that he loves theater and despises movies; he's far more likely to praise a stage play than a film. Still, when Simon does like a film, he tends to like really good ones, like _Badlands_ and _Melvin and Howard_.
I haven't commented on Jesse Helms' restirement because everyone else is doing such a great job trashing the guy. Frankly, it makes me angry that we had to put up with this troglodyte for nearly thirty years, and the only way we could get rid of him was when he retired on his _own_ initiative. He beat us. I regard this as a defeat, not a victory.
Also, if I posted my fantasy of jamming a shotgun up Helms's ass, and blowing his head along a parabola across the Senate floor, it might be taken by overzealous law enforcement types as a legitimate threat. (Just a fantasy, guys.)
And as wonderful as Harlan's words were, I'd like to paraphrase Bill Hicks's comments on Helms, and why such cranks have really dark secrets they gotta hide with the right-wing bullshit, from his album _Rant in E Minor_:
"He's gonna kill himself. You know that. He's gonna sit down un a bathtub under a pecan tree, and after he cuts his wrists he's gonna write in blood, 'I been a bad little boy.' That's when they're gonna go into his attic, and find the dried skins of missing children drying up there. And his wife's gonna say she always wondered about Jesse's collection of little shoes."
Hicks follows that up with the single greatest comment about Rush Limbaugh that I have ever heard.
Okay, Harlan, a short informative digression about the newsgroup. First of all, a Usenet newsgroup functions just like this chain of messages on this web site. People read the new messages, and reply to previous ones. There's lots of other things to know abou them, but the only ones you need to worry about here are
a) most newsgroups are not moderated, and anyone can participate,
b) Messages have titles, and usually replies have the same title, so messages are "threaded."
c) people can "cross-post," i.e., post the same message to several newsgroups simultaneously, preferably if the subjects are related (for example, cross-posting comments about the movie _AI_ to the newsgroups alt.movies.kubrick and alt.movies.spielberg). This has led to some abuse, where ads for pornography or chain letters are cross-posted to hundreds of newsgroups (a practice referred to as "spamming").
Okay. Newsgroup culture varies a lot, too. Some newsgroups are every bit the salon that this place has been; like-minded people exercising the linguistic muscles in a relaxed and convivial environment. Others are continual battlegrounds-- Christian political newsgroups, for example, and sci.skeptic is basically people yelling at each other while occasionally discussing fringe beliefs.
As for alt.fan.harlan-ellison, well, it has had flashes of intelligent conversation from time to time. Usually, they tend to be about events and people in the SF-fantasy community, or something that's going on in your life. But the newsgroup's sort of dominated by two creeps, who court others into arguing with them. (While I was writing this, Bill Warren weighed in with the suggestion that their names be altered so they won't show up on searches. VERY good idea.)
Od--s is basically an obnoxious fanboy. If someone posts some news about you, no matter what, he'll reply to it with some insulting comment about Yourself. And sadly, there doesn't seem to be a shortage of people who'll _reply_ to him. Sure, the replies are frequently witty and savage, but after prolonged exposure I've decided that the wit is wasted and the only result is a chain of exchanges with a creep who derives pleasure from having people send him nasty notes. There's no substance to Odevs at all, and unless he extends his dislike of you to something more substantive-- say, posting libels, or harassment of yourself-- he's best ignored.
P----r's an odd case. I have no idea why he's appearing on the newsgroup because his interest in your and your work seems to be Nil. Engage him in argument, and he begins trumpeting about how he's some kind of "major writer." No, he hasn't published anything. He posts to Usenet-- and by tracking the number of threads he's started, and the number of follow-ups he's inspired (mainly people wondering what kind of dunderhead he is), he thus claims that the size of his audience and the "effect" of his words makes him a major writer in this new medium of the Internet. Sadly, people respond to him, and that just feeds this odd little ego-construct he's got going.
Still, I'm amazed at them, if only because I can't understand why they get so much pleasure from having intelligent people despise them. Sure, there's a thrill when people are calling for your head, like Camus described at the end of _The Stranger_, but I'd prefer to have _idiots_ hate my guts for saying something that's sane and intelligent. These guys seem to enjoy being the assholes who walk up to a conversation in progress, horning in on it, and forcing it onto some ugly obsession of theirs.
Imagine if a a newsgroup were a 19th century salon, where Wilde and Shaw would chat about the Haymarket martyrs, or with D'oyly Carte about their royalties. These guys would be large, menacing types with glazed eyes who'd wander up and start yabbering about child molesters and beer farts. And since we don't have bouncers to escort them from the premises, we have to go find some place that _does_ so we can chat about life and art and literature and cookies and pizza and our children and maybe even Chandra Levy without having to worry about louts barging in.
Bud's been an friend to this site and this editor for damn near as long as Webderland has been active. Please make him welcome.
As for the two folks you've been discussing: I'd prefer they not be even named here, and if you guys don't mind I'd like to alter the names slightly so they don't show up in searches. Zelazny's JACK OF SHADOWS comes to mind for some reason. Any issues with that? Mr. P*1mer was apparently ugly enough to me that the messages made the highlights list of several FAQs on him (which is the only place I've seen them since I killfilled him after his first attack). I have no desire to see this place turned into a waterhole for such animals.
Finally, let me echo the recommendation of THE OTHERS given here. It's a fine film, the rare horror story that doesn't rely on shock or faux suspense to generate its thrills. A little too much exposition and explanation in the final ten minutes for my taste, especially considering how much the boogiemen are kept behind the curtains the rest of the film (so to speak) - but otherwise a great ride.
Harlan,
Noted your comments about not liking much anime (a perfectly valid choice of taste, of course - I find much of it silly and overwrought myself). Might I recommend a series called "The Big O," however? It's abotu a city that lost all it's memories 40 years before the time of the show, and the aftermath. After all, if any of us lost all our previous memories, how well would we be able to re-construct our jobs? Our relationships? "Big O" has some of the usual anime cliches (big robots, fr'instance), but the atmosphere and some great English dubbing of snappy dialogue make up for it.
Regards,
Joseph
All,
Anyone here ride a scooter? I'm thinking of one for city riding, and wanted to see if anybody had some thoughts. I'm talking motorized, like the low-end Hondas.
Amy et al, re: Thanatopsis
That sounds like clinical depression to me. If so, that's something that will have to be treated with medication or diet, depending on the sufferer's preference. Of course, how the sufferer suffers their suffering depends on the individual. Me, I treat my depression the way God intended. With a pill.
I recently saw THE OTHERS and was impressed with Nicole Kidman's performance. I kinda liked the movie, too. (Move over, Roger Ebert.)
Re: Homicidal Drivers
If you think it's bad out Texican Way, you sould try the graduates from the Hannibal Lecter school of driving we got up here in Denver. We use the cupholders for the fava beans and chianti.
Harlan,
I looked in at the KICK forum and saw the contribution counter, which was at ZERO! I hope that's because people are contributing the old fasioned way (You know, check, stamp, envelope, etc.).
I'd like to contribute some of my miserable pittance, so I guess it'll be in the time honored fashion (see above).
Not that I don't use the U.S. Escargot Service, mind you. I have two computers (don't ask), but I still have two typewriters, just in case. One is an IBM Selectric One. Can't git no parts, the ribbon's dry, but she'll make one helluva boat anchor. The other is my old Smith Corona portable manual. Made of gen-yu-wine plastic. You have to hit the keys with a hammer, but if you spit on the ribbon, it'll type. A screw flew out once, but it kept on going. Let's see a windows clone do that!
Catching up with the Voluminous Cloud of Witty Banter:
So I can vanish again. Beginning Friday night, three or four of the worst days of my (and Susan's) life. AOL's attorneys came to Ellison Wonderland on a "discovery" mission, complete with microfiche copying machine. Don't ask. The tension began Friday night and my neck muscles corded so tightly that I've been living on Doan's Pills and Icy Heat Patches for five days. These are very bad people we're fighting. I dread to think how unpleasant I'm going to have to become to win the day over opponents this amoral, duplicitous, unmannerly and arrogantly deep-pocketed. So I was out of touch for days, and, well, let me catch up zippyfast.
Bob Sassone: you want thoughts about Cyril M. Kornbluth? Send off for The Kornbluth newsletter, KORNBLUME: KORNBLUTHIANA
(edited by Mark Rich, PO Box 971, Stevens Point, Wisconsin USA, 54481-0971) or at least drop him a postcard to see if he's still producing it, and/or if he has copies available of past issues
--I even have some contributions therein, encompassing ALL my thoughts on Cyril. He was a remarkable, an idiosyncratic writer; and a frequently-difficult but never less than brilliant man. Oddly, I think Cyril's best book was a mainstream paperback original he wrote for Lion Library, titled VALERIE.
Rich: re Jesse Helms and your ugly remarks about him...right awn, brother! Lynn, m'little honeylamb, that nostril-blow of semi-human fungus shouldn't merely die of prostate cancer, he should fuckin' LINGER; in unbelievable anguish that no cocktail of emetics and poultices can dim. His has been a life lived in stupidity and bigotry and racism and anti-intellectualism and homophobia and holy-roller evil surpassed only by the excresence of Strom Thurmond's vile run of breath-sucking monstrousness. The two of them are beyond the mere torments of Tartarus. They have made life an untenable nightmare for hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of innocent people. His passing from this life, and at least the public stage in America, is reason to shout from the housetops. On the day he croaks, I shall go out and raise my flag to full-staff. You need not--at least not for MY benefit--add (grin) to a second posting. It seems to me incumbent upon those who exist in their times with passion, to despise the vile and inhumane with as much elan as they praise, well, shit, something as valuable but transitory as books and movies. This was a squirrel-jowled, lard-assed, puke-for-brains monster who played on peoples' ignorance and basest hatreds. Prostate cancer is a badge of honor too noble for the likes of Jesse Helms.
Lynn: I agree that Nicole Kidman, while rather marvelous to look upon, has several furlongs to trot before she gets booked as much of an actress. Nonetheless, two of her performances, one back in Australia and the other here, were more than promising, they were outstanding. DEAD CALM, taken from a spectacular thriller by the noir suspense novelist, the late Charles Williams (not to be confused with the Charles Williams who wrote the arcane and semi-occult supernatural novels), was a thoroughly convincing thespic job, and was my intro to her work.
Subsequently, eschewing even the vaguest echo of an Aussie accent, her insanely self-obsessed wannabe tv-weather-girl-cum-seductress-cum-assassin was blissfully amoral to the max in TO DIE FOR. If you've missed these two winners, I can't guarantee it'll get that grape-seed outta your teeth...but it might.
Rob & Bob (Sassone, that is): Jim Morrow, JAMES MORROW to you, is not only a good friend of mine--we get together mostly at the I-Cons, since he's East Coast and I'm West--but he is in the top pecentile of writers whose work is transcendent, in my opinion. He is a big thinker, with daring ideas, an almost suicidally adventurous braveness of spirit in what he's not afraid to write, and a style that is sublime. I've known him, read him, and admired him for years. I recommend Jim's work unreservedly, but be cautioned: he is an E Ticket ride. You will be well served at his table d'hote, but the food is spiiiiiiiicy!
Dennis: Thanks for the Phantom/milk poster offer, but I've got so much, and so many, of everything here, it's becoming tschatchka heaven. So, appreciated but, thanks but no thanks.
Bud Webster: Hi, Bud. Welcome to the 'hood. You will enjoy yourself like crazy here. These are terrific, whip-smart conversationalists. It's a cheery little salon where men and women of good hearts and sane minds fret and gibber and pontificate ever so grandly. It's like the best late-night bullfrog and pizza dorm-klatsch you've ever attended. I've grown very fond of each and every one of the litle fuckers. And having you duck in and out is a lovely bonus.
Folks, I vouch for Webster. He's big, and ungainly, and tends to be much too serious about almost everything; but I'm sure you'll break his spirit in no time atall atall. When he starts spewing milk outta his snout, you'll know he's joined this cockeyed caravanserie for true.
Bud. One more thing. Since the ONLY web thing I do is right here (yes, yes, I know Alex Krislov, yes I'll be doing your Auditorium gig, be patient), I know virtually nothing about this alt.fan.harlan-ellison venue. Others have mentioned this Odevs fellow (I'm not sure I've ever heard of Palm-r...is he, in fact, a published writer...should I know his work?) but I have no idea who he is. I presume "Odevs" is a handle (unless he changed it from something really awfuller in real life, like, uh howabout say, "Fahrtbreath") but has anyone ever hacker-chased this guy to find out who he REALLY is? If he hates me as much as you guys indicate, I'd love to know what his non-superhero identity is, just so I don't get snookered by him (or her?) in public.
Tell me more about this yenta abbatoir. I'm faskinated, as Popeye would say.
But be aware, Bud, while people are free as dirt and air to jump on me here for any of my frequent--and embarrassing--gaffes they have a tendency to be sweet about it, and nobody stays mad at anybody for very long are you listening Chris L. and Rob?
Again, Bud...welcome to the place where everybody knows your name.
Andrew: I owned two Austin-Healys simultaneously. One rigged for track, the other with a louvred bonnet for road. Both were gunmetal blue. I raced the one at Watkins Glen. I adored them. Eventually sold one of them my pal (now President of SF Writers of America) Norman Spinrad. I miss them. But so do I also miss my '67 Camaro. But at least I pick up the Packard from my mechanic tomorrow, o frabjous day, calloo callay!
Jim: tell me it ain't true. Say it ain't so, Joe. My grammatical idol, John Simon, is working for that fishwrap conservative-claptrap National Review???????? O Gawd, NOOOOOOOO!
Haiku Deity: very nice stuff. I am a haiku, Edogawa Rampo, Hiroshige, Kanemitsu, Sumo devotee. Don't much care for most anime, with a few exceptions, but I am only nuts about haiku. Thank you.
Yr. pal, Harlan.
Yay me! My physical gave me a clean bill of health. I will say, though, that it was a little disconcerting to have a female doctor asking some rather...erm...personal questions.
Brian:
>>And it's frustrating that the last few things I _did_ get published seemed to vanish right after being read solely by a handful of cranks. Very dispiriting.<<
What did you publish and where?
One of the saddest developments in the field over the past few decades was the slow demise of the reprint anthology market. There was a time, not so long ago, when you could hope to sell a story two or three times, or more; there were any number of anthologies each year that reprinted stories. Then Roger Elwood saturated the market for ten years and pretty much killed the anthology market; the only reprint books left are the various BEST ____ OF THE YEAR titles and a handful of instant remainders.
Where is Groff Conklin now that we need him...
Harlan has the chops
He may just be the Salt here
Only a few know
Writer's block ain't good
Nor common with my three shoes
Wear the cap correct
Answer no malaise
Sneezing politely today
You'll find your muse soon
Why be lazy, Pete?
You'll be another 'sumer
An ornery man
Serious thoughts form
Be a haiku genius soon
And yet another
Key lime pie for lunch
Is better than McPorkChops
Time to amp up taste
Hot air through this form
Get down, Johnny, fight da Man
Gots to go, peace, pal
Rich, please share your good/bad opinion of Simmons' HARDCASE upon completion; I, too, disliked DARWIN'S BLADE and decided against buying HARDCASE in hardcover for that reason. I'd be interested in knowing whether other Simmons readers think it's a return to form or more o' the same.
Harlan: I know you're not Grand Masta. Honestly, I do.
Besides, isn't it obvious that to everyone that he's really John Simon, from the National Review?
Jim
Re being "blocked" and laziness. I guess I'm a combination of both, especially because the Web offers so much in the way of distraction. But lately, I can't think of a topic where I might have anything original to add. (And it's frustrating that the last few things I _did_ get published seemed to vanish right after being read solely by a handful of cranks. Very dispiriting.)
Another announcement from...
Today's the day the auction starts on ebay!!!
Artist George Perez, and Spencer Beck from theartistschoice, have donated an original piece of art for the KICK fund. Check out the harlanellison.com homepage for more details. Hugs and Kisses to George and Spencer.
...Susan
Oh, and by the way...
Much as you may LIKE the idea that I'm H. Salt, Esq., I am here to tell you, as I told someone a week or two ago...
I AM NOT.
You may go anywhere else with your Sam Spadelike deducing, but don't come knockin' at my door no more
Migawd, don't you people EVER shut up?!?!
Finn & Loftus (songs, dances & snappy patter): I may be misremembering, but I think you've misattributed me. I COULD be bollixed on this, but I think the "thantopsis" reference to one of my ex-wives was to the 4th, not the 3rd.
I'm not blocked. I'm just lazy.
It's so easy to do something other than write, that many times I'll find myself reading the posts on this page, writing one myself, loading up a computer game, checking news sites, chatting with friends, staring at my screensaver, and other things.
Don't get me wrong. I love writing. I love the act of creation, of piecing together letters and words and sentences and paragraphs into meaningful and musical patterns that tell a good story. I love the rhyme and the rhythm of the english language when it grooves to the beat thumping in my head. Or better yet, thumping in my chest.
I'm not blocked. I'm just lazy. But then again, I'm also working again and back in school, so now I can use writing as an escape, rather than escape from writing. It's not a lack of love, it's not a psychological aversion, it's just pure slippage of discipline
---Peter
Bud,
Yup. Time IS the essential mechanism for any adjustment.
And re: Kubrick. Of course, regarding the degree of passion Kubrick generates he certainly does it for me, as much as ANYONE can - here in the subjective world.
Whoo. A few days away, and look at all of the mail. And none of it's for me. (Sorry. Joke that'll take too long to explain.)
Concerning the driving stories, for once, I'm actually at a loss for words.. Then again, I live in Dallas, where obnoxious dolts with more money for SUVs than IQ points regularly drive as if they are the only people on the planet, and everyone else is nothing but shadows. (I was nearly taken out this morning while heading to work by a Baylor brat in a SUV that felt compelled to swerve across two lanes to miss being pelted by a malfunctioning lawn sprinkler that was spraying into his lane, and then flipped off the three drivers who commented on his lack of attention. For all of the hype about how these things are designed to climb Olympus Mons: who knew that they're made out of spun sugar?) If anything, thanks to the dotcom crunch, the traffic in Dallas is even worse: the streets are full of horribly overvalued vehicles with Oregon and Washington license plates driven by MBAs who finished blowing the last of the venture capital on greedheadpigfucker.com on snorting coke out of the butt-crack of a 14-year-old stripper, and they're now moving back to Dallas to live with Mommy and Daddy while they try to find the next get-rich-quick scheme. I figure I'm really going to have to make up those "Please: Spay Or Neuter Your SMU Brat...Before It Breeds" bumper stickers, just so most of these scum die from cerebral hemmorhaging (caused by being expected to read)and get off the bloody road. For me, sophomoric challenges intended to get through neutronium-enhanced skulls isn't an idle pleasure: it's the price I pay for having to drive up Dallas North Tollway.
And since Alejandro wanted me to stop by because of the convention commentary, let me just say that I realized that I could start a magazine with the money I spent on attending conventions last year. I was attending said conventions to promote "SCI FI" magazine and my column therein, and I see all of my efforts in promoting it really went far: even the Web site is dead. In three years of pushing that magazine and predecessor "Sci-Fi Universe", I've picked up several bits of wisdom. Trying to get conventioneers to buy subscriptions after they get home is impossible because these people are so cheap that they use both sides of the toilet paper, and they'll instead travel from con to con to get copies for free. I now react even more strongly to the phrase "sci-fi" than anyone else here: I had to threaten my wife with divorce before she'd stop using it in general conversation. I am now so badly burned out on writing for anything approximating a movie magazine that I'd gleefully watch a "Seinfeld" marathon before I'd take a commission, and after editing SciFiNow.com, I now realize that most of the people writing for genre film magazines are publicists for the big studios, or they're writing for "Cinescape" because a real magazine wouldn't take them. Most of all, I haven't been to a convention in nearly a year, and I don't mis them. I realized today that last weekend was the big Armadillocon show in Austin, and considering that Armadillocon has turned into a private party for the con staff because nobody in their right mind wants to travel to Austin at the end of summer, I thought "Joy: I saved $300 on hotel rooms and con badges that could go into more constructive and enjoyable endeavors, such as hot Clorox enemas." One of these days, I'll be able to contemplate going to a convention without feeling the urge to kill by the end of it: until then, I'm just going to stay home and write. It's better this way.
Lynn,
Your mention of your '78 MG brings back fond memories of my childhood. When I was very young (4 to 6 years old) my father tried restoring (he never finished) a '53 Triumph TR-3A. On those rare occasions when it actually ran we would cruise around the neighborhood getting bugs in our teeth (whoopee!). Later, my mother ended up with a '67 Autin-Healey Sprite. I still remember mom's friends grumbling about the need for "asbestos underwear" when riding with her. Sadly, both cars have long since vanished but, I've never stopped being a fan of those classic British roadsters. My current dream car? Don't laugh... would be a Bugeye Sprite (any year) or another '53 TR-3.
I believe (bringing this post on topic... sort of) that Mr. Ellison used to race Austins. But then again I could have mis-heard.
-Andrew
Bud, with all due respect, you're not wasting bandwidth with this discussion at all. Alex noted that it seems an inordinate amount of us on this site are blocked (ignoring the obvious explanation which would be that we're spending too much time reading this board and not enough time writing). Please, unless you have better things to be doing with your time, don't feel like you have to be brief. Lord knows none of the rest of us are.
Enjoying your contributions greatly,
L.
Brian:
Hope you can turn up a copy of the book. If you can't, your library should have a copy.
Touching on AFH-E again, I wish I could kill-file the yobbos, but I'm using Free Agent and it won't do that. And frankly, all due respect to Kubrick, he doesn't seem to generate the same level of passion, pro and con, that Harlan does; knees in AFH-E jerk *much* higher than elsewhere.
Rob:
If you'd have asked me a year ago, I couldn't have given the answer I gave Heather, I was sunk too deep in the block and the correlative depression to be able to verbalize it. It wasn't until I got through it that I was able to put my feelings into words.
Which is typical of me. When I first got into fandom some 25 years ago, I did a fanzine that *reeked* until I began to use it as a means of actually expressing my feelings, at which time it became something that other fans seemed to look forward to. It was that string of 'zines, from 1973-1976, that prompted both Harlan and Jerry Pournelle (as divergent a pair as you're likely to find) to encourage me to, in effect, "Stop writing this fanzine crap and do something REAL." Some twenty years later I did.
Be that as it may, it was the honesty I learned to express in the pages of ANIARA that makes it possible for me to write about my block now, but a year ago I wouldn't have been able to. In any event, I've taken up enough bandwidth talking about it here; if you have any other questions, I'll be happy to expand in e-mail.
I'll he heading into town to buy new glasses, and I'll hunt down _ASrt and Fear_ today. Thanks for the word.
As for the alt.fan newsgroup, and people like Odevs and Bill Palm-r... well, about two weeks ago, I killfiled them. It's the only thing for it, really. Sure, it's fun to exercise the insult muscles and slice the guy a little. But you could work up witty remarks that even Gore Vidal might admire, and it would have _no effect_. The other guy's incapable of being abashed, and the wit just evaporates into the Internet aether.
Palm-r's an odd case, in that his obsession with his status as a "writer" due to his inspiring insults seems to be a kind of mental illness. And some of these trolls have given Bill Warren some grief in real life, so it's not always just a Usenet thing. But really, people like Odevs are not even worth arguing with. Remove them from your lives.
Since we're chatting about Kubrick, I'd like to mention an odd contrast between the Ellison newsgroup and alt.fan.kubrick. That newsgroup has had a fairly high level of discussion from time to time, but it's also survived both Kubrick's death and the presence of a number of arrogant slobs. (One called himself "Lord Bullingdon," after a particularly noxious creep in "Barry Lyndon.")
It's possible that, because more people have seen Kubrick's films than read Ellison's work, a kind of dilution effect is at work. More people participate, so we get more posts written by perfectly decent people, and so the idiots can be avoided without having to avoid all discussions. The Ellison newsgroup doesn't attract a lot of chat about Harlan's work, so it winds up being a forum for two jerks.
Lynn:
Thanks for your welcome, and your congrats.
As to AFH-E, yeah, I've been there a number of years, and although it's never been what you'd call high-traffic - this group is far more loquacious - the signal-to-noise ratio was always fairly low. But Odevs and Bill Palm-r have succeeded in creating an environment so hostile and unpleasant that it may very well be a lost cause. See, most trolls get bored and move on after a while, but these two...! Odevs' animosity towards Harlan is so white-hot, for whatever reason (I think it was David Loftus who described him to me in e-mail as the poster boy for Exogenesis), that he's literally driven to continue baiting and trolling; and Palm-r is so convinced of his own legendary status and his prowess as a writer (he is capable of putting one word in front of another, but his subject matter is still limited to Bill Palm-r) that he *never* tires of writing about himself and how other writers fall short by comparison.
Who needs it? Life's short enough as it is, and neither of those guys have the intellect to pound sand up their asses with a hammer and a funnel - although I'd love to see them try. Hell, I'd hold their coats.
Hence, I'm here, after being invited by David and one or two others. I hope I'm not TOO long-winded for you guys.
I'm trying to track down a contents listing for the new ESSENTIAL ELLISON, specifically to see what's been added to it (the book isn't available at any bookstore in my area, so I can't just open it up and look for myself). Does anyone here know where I might find a contents listing for it on the Net?
Heather and Bud,
I think it was last year when I asked a number of writers online about writers' block - exactly what it was, and so on - to understand it (particularly when we talk about 6 months or more). I was trying to get the subjective account Bud just gave us and no one would. Maybe it was a touch of Disney dust to your phrasing that mine lacked that drew such a ready response. I dunno. But I appreciate it and thank Bud with a hearty handshake for sharing that.
Re: Helms. I think even the denizens of Hell will consider themselves too virtuous and lofty to have him there. Just ain't no place base and vile enough for the brain-dead gargoyle.
Paul Riddell just posted this link in his forum. It's about a survey on Internet piracy of literary works. Paul has been doing some research of his own and has discovered that the most often pirated (?) works are those by science fiction and fantasy writers:
http://dailynews.yahoo.com/h/nm/20010821/wr/internet_books_dc_1.html
Bud. First things first. Welcome! And may I extend my congratulations for your publications in Analog, as well as for your reader's awards.
re: Alt.Fan.HE, do you really believe it is a lost cause? Because you've probably been posting there longer than I've even known it existed, and I'll trust your estimation. And if so, I'll take that question I posted yesterday and bring it here. I'm trying to cut back on the "loquacious" aspect of my personality. Listen and learn and all that rot.
Rick~ Your have a website for your *dog*? Pardon me while I rotflmao. For a bruiser, he sure is a cutey. Bull mastiff? Or should I just go read the FAQ. (Yes, not only does Rick have a website for his dog, his dog has a FAQ.)
Swarmist petards,
L.
Heather asked about "writer's block." I've never experienced it -- partly because my specialty has been the short essay, and there's always something else to write about; a whole book is a much more intimidating proposition -- and I seem to recall HE saying somewhere that it's never hit him.
The Ralph Keyes book I recommended several weeks ago, which Lynn is now reading, _The Courage To Write_, talks about this, obviously. It's hard for me to recall what it says, specifically (versus stuff I read elsewhere or already knew), but off the top of my head:
Writer's block tends to be an expression of fear. Writers may fear many things -- failure, success, ability to make a story work, ability to pay the bills, whether one is making the best narrative choices or putting one's money on the best protagonist, point of view, and so on.
It can also be a sign that the writer hasn't fully identified what she wants to do in the book.
I'm starting to encounter fear, because I'm considering my first piece of extended fiction after a lifetime of doing nonfiction, but I'm not blocked ... just yet.
Heather:
>>Why would you have writer's block? If you are doing something that you truly enjoy -- and I'm assuming that, here -- why would you ever get 'blocked'? I can understand one story not working for you so you move to another--but to be 'blocked'; and for timeframes like two years or something?<<
I wish it was that easy. I can't speak for anybody else, of course, but in my case it was simply a matter of cold sweats every time I contemplated writing.
See, I've published two stories in Analog, both of which won best story of the year in the readers' poll. The next story of note I published, a 52-verse narrative poem called "The Ballad of Kansas McGriff", made the preliminary Nebula ballot, missed the short list by a dozen votes, then went on to win first prize in the National Hobo Association's poetry contest last year (it's a long story, one better told off-line).
But every writer brings baggage to the work. Some baggage is lighter than others, some, heavier. Some of it makes the work not only possible, but necessary, and some can keep it from happening at all.
In my case, part of my baggage was the sure knowledge that I was FOOLLING people into thinking I was a writer, and a pretty good one. This despite two readers' polls, a phone call from Our Host after my first story won, not only correcting my mistakes but to tell me it was a pretty good yarn, and the enthusiasm of any number of friends and convention acquaintances. And the fan mail, of which I get some.
So, I was absolutely certain that one day there would come a tap on my shoulder, and the words, "I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to come with us." The Writing Police, come to strip me of my pretense and reveal me to the world as a fake.
The result was abject terror every time I even thought about writing, and a complete inability to open an unfinished file without getting the shakes and sweats. I am NOT exaggerating.
There were other factors, too, off course; the conviction that everything I'd written was really crap (hand in hand with the primary problem), and work problems, and the fact that I was producing a friend's first CD during that period, which did, I'll admit, soak up a lot of creative energy. Still and all, it was the fear of being exposed as a "fake" writer that was the primary block.
The aforementioned book, _Art and Fear_, was an enormous help, as was the enthusiasm of several notable writers (whose names I will NOT drop) for my writing. A couple of months ago, I not only broke the block, but finished in less than a week the first draft of the best story I've ever written.
All that, Heather, to say why a block happened (at least in my case), and how it was broken. I will freely admit that there are still niggling little voices in the back of my head warning me to watch over my shoulder, but they're nowhere near as loud as they once were. And, I could become blocked again, for either the old or new reasons. But I know now for a fact that I *can* come out the other side, and produce damned good work.
Sorry to be so long-winded, folk, and I hope I didn't bore any of you.
Thanks for the welcome, Alex, and yes, this does seem to be a more relaxed (and relaxing) Ellisonian millieu, if I may be pompous. I'm looking forward to visiting here often.
I ask this as I am a writer-in-progress. Some of you guys were talking about writer's block (I'm a few posts back here) but I'm trying to understand this whole "writer's world" as I go. I'm sure y'all could teach me a lot about all this stuff.
Why would you have writer's block? If you are doing something that you truly enjoy -- and I'm assuming that, here -- why would you ever get 'blocked'? I can understand one story not working for you so you move to another--but to be 'blocked'; and for timeframes like two years or something?
Me no lo comprendo.
Heather
Well, you've all now intrigued me enough that I'm going to take a look at "Stir of Echoes" (though why I haven't yet is a bit of a mystery - Bacon has done some very nice character work in the past few years, and I loved Illeana Douglas in the late lamented "Action").
AS for Ang Lee and the Hulk, there's a nice little moment in his BMW film where the child savior gives his rescuer a Hulk band-aid. Damn fine short film, too. I do recommend hopping over to iFilm.com and looking at that and Guy Ritchie's BMW movie (which has a hilarious Madonna performance).
Regards,
Joseph
Jesse Helms: If I believed in Hell, may he rot in it. That is with all seriousness and no sarcasm implied, meant, etc. He is a spiteful, bigoted man, and though he has done great works for those tobacco philanthropists, the majority of intelligent people that live in NC are glad to see him gone. Another dinosaur becomes extinct.
UNBREAKABLE: Liked it. Thought the train wreck scene (Close up on Willis' face as the accident happens) and the hospital scenes were some of the best ever put on celluloid. Also, as Willis' son adds weight on the bar. Great stuff.
STIR OF ECHOES: Kevin Bacon did great work and though the ending was a little too pat, seeing him digging those holes and drinking that OJ was good stuff.
Currently reading HARDCASE by Dan Simmons and hoping that it is much better than DARWIN'S BLADE. I hated that book and no amount of great works Simmons has done in the past will make me change my mind. Pisses me off that someone with that talent writes that crap. Alright, gotta stop now.
Anyway, Jesse's got a girl and I want to make her mine.
Jim - thank you for the panther comment, perfect!
Amy, Lynn - I'd suggest a webderland ragtop rally but it's unlikely my car will come across the pond due to mods to make it street legal for US. (Sad, too, it's the ICON limited edition with leather and CD and Nardi wheel/shifter, etc. I try not to think about these things...). Racing?? Not my style, I'm not a sufficiently aggressive driver. I just go in for the zippy zoomy topless effects. Who needs mutual moan or retail therapy when you've got ragtop therapy?
David - Check out Morrow's "Only Begotten Daughter" - similar in it's scope to satirize aspects of the Catholic/Christian belief system and an enjoyable enough read.
Unbreakable - loved it, thought it was better than Sixth Sense, albeit occasionally over the top. More driven, less schmaltzy, great ending.
Lynn: The ending of "Unbreakable" upset me the first time I saw it because it didn't feel like an ending. It felt like the movie just stopped. The people in the theatre were looking up at the projection booth and saying things like, "Where's the last twenty minutes of the movie?" I enjoyed the rest of the movie so much though that I decided to give it another chance a week later. When I saw it that time I realized that the movie didn't just stop and that what I had seen was actually a very clever ending and appropriate with the rest of the film. Sorry for talking around the subject so much but I don't want to give the ending away for those who haven't seen the movie.
Dennis
Ivan DeJesus, is EVERYONE here blocked? Yeesh. Sort of good to know I'm not the only one, even as I slowly come out of it.
Heya, Bud! Good to have you here--and hell; we've had more traffic than a.f.h-e of late, and much more of it enjoyable and full of actual, genuine, homemade THOUGHTS.
JOSEPH: A while ago, I made a haul at the library booksale and came away with a brace of the Nelson Doubleday "THE BEST OF ..."
books. Those incestuous little collections (Edmond Hamilton edited by Leigh Brackett, Leigh Brackett edited by Edmond Hamilton; C.M. Kornbluth edited by Fred Pohl ...) are a great addition to any bookshelf--and the Kornbluth one was mind-blowing--and sad as well. I think of him as a Saki, a Wilfred Owen; a huge talent taken far too young by the vicissitudes of war.
Lynn, Amy, Peg: Ain't got no vee-hickle. Neener on me.
Joseph: GREAT film. The framing device of the FANTASTIC FOUR issue as interpreted by the eldest son becomes all the more understandable when you realize that Ang Lee's signed on to do the HULK flick. Also, I was a child in those times--though not QUITE in the key-partying suburbs--so the ambiance of the film felt like a homebound trip through a darker youth.
Brian:
>>About that book "Art and Death"-- does it have any good advice about _stopping_ that particular kind of self-obsession? I'd really like to know, because I've been seriously blocked for about two years now myself.<<
_Art and Fear_. Yes, it does, although the primary purpose of the book is to let the blocked artist know that a) the situation is NOT uncommon, and b) you ain't alone in this, bubba. Just knowing *that*, just understanding that this was something that other artists had successfully come out the other side of (can you tell I'm a writer, huh?), helped me enormously. It gave me a handle by which I could grasp the problems and DEAL with them.
If you want, we can go further into this in e-mail; I'm not embarrassed about it, but I hesitate to take up the bandwidth here with stuff that might not interest the Majority.
Jim D:
Odevs is extremely well-named. I don't know what his problem is, and I frankly don't care. All I know is that if God decided to give alt.fan.harlan-ellison an enema, Odevs is where he'd stick the nozzle. And now Palm-r has shown up with his own delusions of adequacy, and the real users in the group are either feeding the trolls or abandoning ship. Odevs and Palm-r are like dogs, growling and sniffing each other's arses, and if I were still a drug-takin' man, it might be fun to watch, but a battle of wits between two people only half-armed is as much fun as home dentistry.
You know, I usually think of myself as an intelligent guy, but there are times when I'm so thick that if you moved my dinner plate a foot to the left, I'd starve. I was bitching earlier about how computer screens kill my eyes and leave me as snowblind as if I'd been climbing the Himalayas. Well, I realized that the only time in my life that this didn't occur was when I used the computers at my last job. And what was the difference, you may ask? Could it be, oh, I don't know, THE FACT THAT ALL THE COMPUTERS WERE EQUIPPED WITH ANTI-GLARE SCREENS???!!!??? Makes you go "Hmmmm..."
Rob: I don't think we can accuse Harlan of any deception--the poor guy probably has no idea that he's developed a split-personality. I can picture him sitting at his desk, typing furiously, when, suddenly, his body shudders, he swivels his baseball cap to a backwards postion, and he replaces the Morricone scores with some Public Enemy or Snoop Dogg. It's kind of sad, really.
Lynn: Usually, I would agree with your Nicole Kidman assessment, but I have to say I was really impressed with her performance in THE OTHERS. She seemed to connect with her role in a way she hadn't in previous films. I think she may finally be blooming as an actress (and as a beauty too, I might add).
Bud: Yeah, alt.fan.harlan-ellison is a real snake-pit (what the hell is the bug up that Odevs guy's crack?). Stick around here, the people seem to be decent folk.
Bob: C.M. Kornbluth is fantastic! "The Marching Morons" and "The Little Black Bag" are classic stories, and his novel THE SPACE MERCHANTS (co-written with Fred Pohl) is great, too. It's good to know that his work, at long last, is being reprinted.
Amy/Peg/Lynn: You're bringing back memories of my personal automotive Grail, my mother's cobalt-blue Mustang Mach II. My father, who was a virtuoso auto mechanic, souped that baby up until it moved like a panther dipped in vaseline. Man, what a car...
Jim
*POSSIBLE SPOILERS*
I loved the understated spookiness of "Eyes Wide Shut" (the soundtrack helped). Sydney Pollack's exposition didn't spoil the film for me. The way I see it, he was intervening before "the club" took their attempts to dissuade Cruise to the next level. Was he telling the truth, or making it up to throw him off the scent? We don't really know. As for the "mellow ending", I thought it was a great setup for the whipcrack of the final line. "Eloquent, practical and obscene", indeed!
*END SPOILERS*
I saw "Sixth Sense" and "Stir of Echoes" on the same day. The similar elements were obvious, but each was enjoyable it its own way. "Stir" had the added bonus of Illeana Douglas, who makes any movie more watchable.
Mitch
Anyone remember when Comedy Central aired throngs of gay guys wearing kinky outfits singing love sonnets out front of Jesse Helms' office?
Helmsey, EVERYONE'll be remembrin' ya with Oh, So Much Love
About that book "Art and Death"-- does it have any good advice about _stopping_ that particular kind of self-obsession? I'd really like to know, because I've been seriously blocked for about two years now myself.
Amy:
>>I know a man who suffers (and makes everyone around him suffer) from thanatopsis. He only sees his failures, and downplays his successes.<<
Having just come out of a 2.5 year block, I think I understand all too well.
There's a book called _Art and Fear_ by Bayles and Orland that not only addresses what you refer to as "thanatopsis" (and an elegant reference it is), but deals with its root causes. One (near) quote that helped me enormously: We tend to see our successes as flukes, and our failures as omens.
I found myself reading the book (the authors are photographers, but the book applies just as well to any creative act) and stopping every other page or so to say, "Jesus, how did these guys get to KNOW me so well!?"
I don't know if it wold have any effect on your acquaintance, but what the hell. Drop it in his mailbox anonymously and see what happens.
Bud
Having crossed alt.fan.harlan-ellison permanently off my list as doomed, and having been pointed in this direction by another such disgruntled soul, I dropped by to find interesting and erudite messages from people who don't seem to have terribly large axes to grind; I think I'll enjoy it here.
And it's good to see that Harlan visits with some regularity: hi, Harlan.
Lynn: HA! If that antique of yours (nothing meant against older cars as a rule; I want a '58 Karmann Ghia, myself) is stock, I'll race ya title for title. I'm lighter, faster, and prettier to boot. (talking about the CAR there) Neener neener.
with ruffled feathers,
amy
Joseph,
I think I'm gonna have to view it again. I was so busy soaking up the oddness of all the characters, that I failed to really pay attention to that particular tidbit. Over all I liked the film but, I wouldn't exactly classify it as a "feel good" kinda flick. :-)
-Andrew
Joseph~ Sorry. Haven't seen it. Didn't really have any interest.
L.
Deniss, Lynn and everyone else about Unbreakable,
While I have not yet seen Unbreakable, I was wondering what everyone else thought of the comic references in "The Ice Storm?" Seems to me they added to the whole odd family dynamic of the movie.
Regards,
Joseph
Dennis~ On your first viewing of "Unbreakable", how did the ending upset you? I'm curious.
L.
Whoops. The comments in the previous message addressed to Amy should have been addressed to Lynn. Sorry.
Dennis
Heather: I am an eclectic cook. My wife is a diabetic so I spend a lot of time looking over cookbooks for low carbohydrate meals. If all else fails my wife takes extra insulin and I cook pasta. My current favorite recipe is a flank steak stuffed with spinach, grated parmesan cheese, bread crumbs and roasted red peppers.
Amy: Unbreakable was a movie I had to see twice to enjoy. The first time the ending upset me. Then on second viewing I realized that the end was perfect and really enjoyed it.
HE: I've been reading through some of the older messages on here and saw that you enjoyed the film adaptation of "The Phantom". I have a copy of the "Got Milk" poster that Billy Zane did as The Phantom and was wondering whether it would be something you would like for your collection. I will say it is not in great shape as it has been taped to a door by the person who owned it before me.
Lest anyone take the previous post with any amount of seriousness, please add the tagline below and here's your grain of salt.
{This has been another impromptu offering from Tongue-In-Cheek Productions. We now return you to reality, already in progress.}
L.
Glory hallelujah!
http://news.excite.com/news/ap/010821/17/news-jesse-helms
Jesse Helms announces his retirement at the end of his term in 2003 (if he lives that long). I hate to be a heartless bitch, but does anyone else see the poetic justice in his suffering from prostate cancer?
Signed,
Remorseless in Burbank
Heather,
My two favorite precocious thanatoptic people of all time: Richard Dreyfuss' son in 'What About Bob?' and the prepubescent Woody Allen in 'Annie Hall'.
RE: STIR OF ECHOES
Man, we musta seen different movies. I thought this one blew big time. I thought itt was one of the worst movies of 1999. I'm not going to pick it apart because basically I think that everything about was just awful, especially the acting. Bacon's worst role ever.
RE: UNBREAKABLE
Yes, I saw it and I loved it. I liked it even more than Sixth Sense. Shyamalan is 2 for 2 with 2 grand slams. I eagerly await his next film, Signs.
Bob,
I gotta tell ya, I did buy 'The Sixth Sense' - both the ending AND the video! A sucker, what can I say?
Having said that I wasn't even up on 'Stir of Echoes' when it came out but I'm always interested in anything from Matheson. I WAS told, however, that the adaptation you spoke of sucked. I may prefer to look up the original story instead.
'Towing Jehovah' sounds funny as hell. I'd like to find that one too.
I think my ultimate "spilled soda" moment occurred during the fantabulous 24 hour Science Fiction Movie Marathon which takes place annually in Brookline, MA. Everyone brings in lots of munchies & drinks (the town shuts down at 10 pm, and you need foodstuffs to keep you awake overnight), and the floor is usually pretty disgusting by two in the morning. Or, in this case, much earlier.
I've got my nice little train case set down on the floor, and I'm arranging my blanket and pillows and all the other things I've brought to make this theater seat feel a little more like home, when I hear a sound a few rows back. A distinctive sound. It's that klunk-blupblupblup-fiiizzzzzz of a two-liter bottle of Coke being knocked over. Shortly thereafter, a tsunami of Coke washed over my sneakered feet and continued down to the front of the theater. I spent the next 24 hours in shoes that not only glued me to the floor, but probably could have allowed me to walk up the wall if I wanted. And NO one apologized!
so there,
amy
Ladies, please. My '76 MGB will take either of you in the curves. I like a car that feels like a car, not a soapbox. {Fingers in ears, waggling my tongue at you.}
Movie theater, fourth or fifth row center, where the sound is balanced. Get sodas before hand, don't like climbing over strangers in the dark. But then again, I've had one of those 128oz cold drinks spilled on my head before. That'll screw up your whole evening.
Heather, I gotta disagree with you on this one. Nicole Kidman, for as beautiful as she is, couldn't act her way out of a wet paper bag. Moulin Rouge had its moments and she wasn't one of them. For as many movies as I've seen her in, not *once* has she actually made me believe in her character. All I see is Nicole Kidman, trying to be someone else and failing miserably.
"Stir of Echoes" was *another* Matheson book?! I really got go get more of this guy. I absolutely adored that movie.
Anybody here seen "Unbreakable"?
L.
Heather: I know a man who suffers (and makes everyone around him suffer) from thanatopsis. He only sees his failures, and downplays his successes. He has no physical relationship with his wife, nor do they share any interests. When I ask him what makes him happy, he has no answer. He always looks back at What He Used To Be, and sees no future but the grave. He plans to work until he dies, yet he gets no pleasure from his work. He frequently contemplates suicide, yet sees his fear of making this decision (which actually would require making a decision, rather than just letting life roll over him) as something noble and brave, as a way of spitting in Death's face. But he's just afraid. I'm not a big advocate of suicide, so please don't misinterpret--but if life is such a vacuum, so devoid of ANYTHING pleasurable, why the fuck would you go on? So...I don't really understand how a person could come to a state of thanatopsis...but these people do exist.
Amy,
Can't wwait for us all to get together at Dragon*Con. Haven't seen the schedule yet, so I'm open-minded as to when we should have dinner.
Peg! Lovely to see that you're a Miata chick, too! My Miata is the first non-econobox car I've owned, and even though I bought it used (and in red, which just AIN'T my color), I immediately fell in love with the little speedster. I can outrun any good ol' boy's pickup on a short stretch or a curvy road. And as for maneuverability? *happy sigh* Gotta love it. I will never be without a ragtop again.
catching up (geez, so many posts in three days),
amy
Wow, this board has been busy since my last post! I tried to follow the Rob and The Case of the Spilled Movie Soda, but got lost after the 300th or so post about it. My quick take: Rob, it was good you apologized immediately, but you also said in the same breath that he should be careful about where he puts his drink, which I'm sure nullified the apology in Mr. Cro Magnon's eyes - and mine too. But you both probably learned something. He's an asshole for overreacting. - Side note: let me defend Rob about this whole "getting up during the previews" thing." What the hell are you people talking about? I paid my $8, I can get up anytime that I want to! As long as I'm not loud or obnoxious or just standing there waving my arms, I can get up before the previews, during the previews, and even during the movie! What if I need to go to the bathroom, or get more food/drink, or the movie sucks and I want to leave? Sorry: this just seems like Oprah Winfrey-style talk about "respect" and "self-empowerment" or something; politically correctness gone too far. I'm not going to be chained to my seat during the whole movie just to "please" or have some sort of "respect" for the other people. Getting up and moving quickly does no harm.
But let's get off of this labored thread, eh? (Duh...of course, I just added to the thread, didn't I? Good going Bob.)
On to other things:
Harlan: thoughts on C.M. Kornbluth? (I asked this earlier but with all the movie soda posts...) I picked up "His Share of Glory," the collection of his short fiction, and was knocked out by much of it. Any memories/thoughts/opinions? (By the way, I hit the mother lode at the Avenue Victor Hugo bookstore in Boston today Harlan: "Selected Stories" by Charles Beaumont, "The Worlds of Clifford Simak," and "The Best of Damon Knight." I'm a happy camper.
David L: funny you should mention "Towing Jehovah." That's the one where God dies and his body is a mile long and floating in the ocean? I was in the SF section of Borders the other day and the guy who works there recommended that book highly. When he told me the plot I was intrigued. Haven't read it yet though. He (the guy who worked for Borders, not God) that James Morrow is one of the top SF writers today, though I haven't read anything by him yet.
Justin: the Army/ROTC thing: please be careful before you make any life-altering decisions, please.
Back to movie talk: saw "Stir of Echoes" the other night. Great! Really spooky and well-acted with many creative touches. Based on a 50s book by Richard Matheson. I like this more than "The Sixth Sense" (the ending of which I still don't buy, sorry).
Joseph: This will be my third Dragon*Con (I need my Harlan fix) in six years or so. I haven't really been to any other conventions, so I have no frame of reference, but I think D*C is lots of fun, with many different tracks of programming and a HUGE dealer room. I'm hoping to pick up a few Futurama toys that I haven't been able to get locally, and I also need to finish up my Tenchi Muyo! collection. I'm sure we'll work out the restaurant thing, and I'm really looking forward to meeting everyone!
Harlan: Ragalach is rugalah and rugalah is ragalach. You will have a happy tummy.
Oh, and a silly little side note on Oreos (I was one of the Hydrox freaks)...you can make do with the tiny Oreos now that Hydrox have been bastardized into "Droxies." Droxies taste as good as they sound. Yecchh. The itty-bitty Oreos have a cookie that is FAR superior to that of their larger brethren. Don't ask me how that works.
Now, for macho bullshit: I'm jealous. Not jealous of the morons who take road-rage to the hand-held semi-automatic level, but jealous of guys like my huge, intimidating husband who can silence a theater of chatterers with one steely glare. I've tried it myself. It don't work. I've got enough fire in me to keep the sleazeballs from seeing me as an easy mark, but not enough to reaaaallly intimidate. You don't have to be a BIG guy to do it, but it sure seems like you have to be A guy. I suppose I should be happy that I'm not one of those people like my mother (who goes around with a big ol' target painted on her forehead), but dammit, I want more! Fear and respect me! Or I'll cry.
amy
Jim
Re: your startling, brilliant Harlan/Grand Masta conspiracy theory. I LIKE it.
For the cursed deception let us feed him to our god.
Holy cannoli, you guys have given me a lot to comment on! I'll try to keep everything brief.
Chris L. saw two hot 19-year-olds making out in DC; just my luck. My first trip to DC, a young street punk tried to sell me a hot Polaroid camera in the park, and then a newspaper poetically sat up in a neighboring park bench (in the wind), and sighed to the ground. (I did see the awesome Holocaust Museum on a subsequent trip, though.)
Chris also asked where we sit in theaters. For a time I did sit front and center -- maybe third row center in the huge thousand seaters. (Aside from not having my view blocked by others, I was also being considerate of them; I LOVE movies, and I LOVE to laugh, and I've noticed that my wholehearted guffaws -- especially when no one else in the theater is laughing; I can give you several concrete examples -- tend to annoy people sitting in front of me!). "Ran" cured me of that: all the sweep and color gave me a headache. Later, I HAD to sit in the front row for "Wild at Heart" because the theater was so full, and it was a doleful experience. Now I sit center, a third to a half of the way back, if on my own; halfway back and sometimes on the aisle for my wife's sake. She gets up sometimes in the middle of movies; I don't budge once the trailers start.
rich praised trailers. I tend to love 'em too, though I've also aired some of my complaints about 'em before. A budding filmmaker friend of mine complained that they tend to get you all revved up emotionally, which at times can spoil the unfolding of the feature that follows. She had a point. Parents in Portland have been getting peeved that trailers for violent and lascivious movies sometimes run prior to kid-oriented features when the audience is filled with little ones. They have a point, too....
Justin, the line that impressed you from Jim comes from Twain, who said he never let his schooling get in the way of his education. I have my own version: Try not to let your job get in the way of your WORK.
Joseph J. Finn confuses existential philosophy with angst, which is not the same thing at all. The "thanatopsis" that HE accused his third wife of laboring under, whatever it was, certainly did not emanate from any coherent, considered system of thought, but more likely a psycho-emotional condition. Of course, pretty much every system of thought has its blind spots and cut corners, and as a quasi-existentialist, I'd be happy to discuss those in Sartre and Camus, but please don't confuse an intellectual position with an emotional condition!
Heather: I feel your pain. I grew up without television, but got addicted to art and foreign films in Boston, so it was a bleak period when I lived in rural southwestern Oregon and nothing stranger than "sex, lies & videotape" or "Eight Men Out" made it to the local theaters. I started buying videos of my favorite films before I even had a VCR, for fear that they would not always be available. And yes, Nicole Kidman was indeed once a pale (a VERY pale) redhead. I first noted her as the teen goddess in an Australian boarding school -- and not really that much of a knockout in those days -- in the 1991 film "Flirting" (which post-dates "Dead Calm," I see). Pleasant but forgettable. You'd never know she was destined for the superstardom she was to achieve.
Debbie -- you went to "The Road Home" twice! How wonderful! Here's my precis:
http://www.allwatchers.com/Topics/Info_4713.asp?BSID=0
I haven't written up "Under the Sand" yet, but I will within the week.
Justin, I could say a LOT to you about the education issues you've raised, and maybe I will in a separate post. Over and out.
I type the same word twice all the time. I have NO idea what that is about. I also have a strange habit of typing "ing" instead of "ed" at the end of a word. (as in, "I walking to the store", instead of "I walked to the store.") Might just be some kind of typing finger habit.
I learned to proofread while proofing business cards, movie screen passes and other weird kinds of stuff (including french) at that print company. Proofing well is an acquired habit, I think. And no, I have no suggestion for reading more easily on screen. I don't have any problem with it. I'm not sure why. Maybe it comes from having had to interpret other people's scrawls so I've gotten used to reading from weird points and places. Dunno..
Loquacious.. I looked that up -- though I intuitively knew it was about chattter or summat. Gee..Me? nah..*laugh*
Do you know how REFRESHING it is to have people in a group who talk as much or even MORE than me? DO YOU? HUH? DO YOU?
Thank you.
Rich:
I think if you put it the right way, Nicole Kidman would be interested in you. Just say:
"Hi, I'm rich."
That might get her attention.
Nicole Kidman was always a fave. I remembered her as a "tannable, it seemed, in "Dead Calm but I've seen her pale and a redhead. And fairly tall, all of which I am too. I loved her in "Moulin Rouge." I was sorry to hear about her and Tom Cruise splitting. I thought they were a good couple.
Tell you what; you can have Nicole, if I can have Tom. (Though Redford was my idol while growing up. I like his attitude, as well.)
Heather L (for..loquacious)
Rich- yeah, I'm just looking at getting a taste of the life, and I won't sign ANYTHING until I'm sure about whether or not the Army life is right for me (as it has been for every other man in my family, on both sides, hence my curiosity).
Heather- Good to talk to you! Thanks for sharing your observations with me, I appreciate it very much.
Lynn- You couldn't be more right about the "cold hard cash" thing. When that professor started talking his schmack, I took it as a personal assault. And why not? I realized I had just been flat-out ROBBED.
Jim- "Don't let college interfere with your education?" I like that one. Thanks.
Today was a bit more like it though. My other classes have engaged my interest, and I'm going to try and replace the science class with something else. I may not be giving it a fair shake, but I don't think I can stand to give more time to those idjits. My English class is interesting, but I am somewhat irritated that our reading assignments all seem to be pop-culture Oprah type stuff. I need more than that to work with. Thankfully, our biggest reading assignment is a book called THE BLUEST EYE, by Toni Morrison, which does sound pretty interesting. Any good?
J
Peg: True, true. Hell, even Harlan has made a few typos now and then. Still, computer screens give (to me, anyway) an unreal quality to the act of writing that is kind of disturbing. I wonder if one of those anti-glare screens would help?
Oh..*laugh*..Lynn, sorry I didn't get to this sooner.
Some GUY? (your SO) is teaching YOU how to deal with a pair of people?
Laugh.
Now THAT is RICH!
Laugh.
Sorry, I never consider the size of the nitwit's bicep OR brain, when I'm reading someone the riot act. In the first (and last) place, I'm not GENERALLY surveying the meat and judging where a short punch might go. Sounds like a guy's game. I ain't a guy. And the more I come to underSTAND of this male demeanor, the less I envy the male convention.
Yah, yah, yah.. sos yer old man.
You GO, girl!
Heather
Hey - even my first post is a great example. Why should I bother to correct that - you know what I meant and that it was a mistake????
Jim,
I think we all worry too much 'bout this stuff on Wedberland. Frankly, how many posts do you see where someone mentions a correction - mostly likely a typo - that you already recognized and made necessary mental adjustment?
Using a word/phrase twice, as your post mentions? Overkill.
SEE!! SEE WHAT I MEAN!!! WHY DID I REPEAT "EXCUSE" TWICE??? I NEED HELP, I TELLS YA!!!
"What ho! The fellow is hopping mad! He hath been bitten by the tarantula!"
Skittering in and out...
David Loftus:
I saw that "artsy" movie list--don't think I didn't.
You are making it INCREDIBLY hard to do without a VCR and television, ya know that?
We have an artsy film theatre in an area of Winnipeg called the Exchange District--our very small, artsy, fartsy section of town. They have a lot of interesting films there. I went off television a while ago but found my interest in non-commercial films began to grow--I like it when you guys talk about those films. I'm sure I'll be dead before I can see all these films, but I can try.
Damn, I forget who commented, but, I've TRIED other things--that's my current conundrum. I THOUGHT I might try jobs like McD's for a while, so I could focus on my writing chops. Seems the food biz is causing me more problems than a REAL job could. Hmmm....I guess I could always take up prostitution; I hear the money's good.
Heather
(sigh)
The post below should have read: "...HAS obviously bisected..."
I'm not making excuses for any lapses in grammar or spelling on my part. I'm solely responsible for what I post, with no excuses. BUT, does anyone else find it hard to write on computer screens? It kills my eyes, and I think I actually have problems visually processing text that I've written, which makes simple proofing a real chore. Anyone have any suggestions to make looking at a screen a little easier?
Thanks,
Jim
Folks, I've figured it out: Grand Masta is...Harlan Ellison!
The strain of the AOL/RemarQ lawsuit had obviously bisected poor Harlan's mind. We're talkin' "Shatterday", here.
Justin: Modern academia is definitely inundated with the inane and the trivial; just grit your teeth, glean what little fragments of wisdom are there, and resolve never to let college interfere with your education.
(I'll never forget the Religious Studies professor who insisted that contractions--I'm, can't, don't, etc.--were improper english, and would actually be marked as mistakes if they appeared in students' papers. I had to lug into class a stack of novels, Fitzgerald's and Hemingway's among them, to demonstrate the silliness of her assertion. She conceded, but not happily.)
Grand Masta' H. Salt, esq
We just ‘tribute ma whinin' hysterics n’ ma pique n’ fire ta empathic PMS. A handy cova' when ya needs a ‘scuse.
Justin~ While I agree with your prof that in order to teach something, you really have to know it, the 'reading is bullshit' line does smack of modern academia. And the wonderful thing is, you'll never cease to be amazed by the crap they try to pawn off on you. Oh you'll think at some point that you're so jaded, there's nothing they could do or say that can surprise you, but you'll be wrong. Take heart that the academian mind is full of such interesting schemes.
And the idea that using your students to teach something will help them learn it better just sounds like pure laziness. What? You can't engage your own students well enough, you have to pawn the job off on the people that are paying to be there? If I were you, I'd reserve judgement on his techniques until I saw them in action, but I definitely share your skepticism.
Isn't it amazing how much value education takes on when you start laying out cold hard cash for it?
L.
Grand Masta' H.
Porcupine has the pricks on the outside.
Out.
L.
Sup, sup,
yo, yo, all you muth' fucka's check this shit out aiiyyeeee? all I want to say is this....
Fab Five Finder; yo, i agree wit you on that "tommyknockers" thang. its nothin' but a piece of log waitin' to be flushed. And don't you worry 'bout Asimov and me. we're tight.
Rappin' Rob of Santa Monica; yo, what's wit your post sounded like a whiny bitch and all. you know, you like a McD's fry, crispy on the outside, but soft and fluffy on the inside. (and to all y'all's still wonderin' why they fry 'em in animal oils, any literate mofo would have read "Fast Food Nation" or the article on Ray Croc in May's edition of the New Yorker)
Rob, you a fool that can't show no respect and some rocky mountain fly boy's gonna make you sit on a shiv. And as far as that movie thang goes, all ya need is some balls man. offer to pay the man fo' his drink, grab his cup, take it to the bafroom, wet yo' weasel into it, aks the concession lady to carbonate it and give it back to him. Now maybe yo ass will be beat, but at least yo can say he drank yo shit.
Masta' C. Ellison; What's the difference between a Corevette and a lil' ole porcupine?
Lynn; it ain't the moon's that "gibbous". and quit tryin' to figure me out my sugar baby!
POWER TO THE PEOPLE!
Warmest Regards,
Grand Masta' H. Salt, esq.
Heather,
Your post illustrates my essential problem with exestentialism as a philosophy (even after having a brilliant teacher in my senior year of high school - how many people read "The Plague" as part of Catholic Studies?). What's the point, then?
Regards,
Joseph
"In his estimation, his ex-wife was burdened with thanatopsis -- a deep and abiding world-weariness, an inability to see anything
significant in life except that it ends."
Do you REALLY believe there are people in the world like this?
What do they LIVE for? I've never understood this.
Rooting around in backlogs...
Heather
Brian,
I liked 'Eyes Wide Shut' but I also cheated: I convinced myself I would like Kubrick's last film no matter what it was. Apart from that I found Cruise's character really amusing in this dream-world; he's this wealthy doctor throwing money around, trying to be defiant after the shit is wife dumped on him by going through the motions of seducing women behind her back. Every time it appears like he'll get laid something intervenes. He's a total amateur at this. Conversely, almost everyone - including gay guys - are drawn to him like a magnet, one even determined to marry him even though, as he points out, she doesn't even know him. He has no control over any situation in this movie. Most of the time he doesn't know what he's doing. The befuddled look on his face when his wife is first freaking out for no apparent reason (ah-hem, how many of us guys have been through that one?) really broke me up. And then there was the beautiful ritual scene in the mansion (with that great haunting music) - actually a naughty joke-reversal on the sacraments from Rasputin - which totally transfixed me. But it was the power of THAT scene that made the mellow ending a let-down (it was a meditation - we didn't need some Stallone action scenes - but we still felt deprived of a pay-off); that was the only thing that genuinley disappointed me.
Anyway, those are the elements of the film that worked for me.
Daryl,
After weeping about that Piano question for a moment, I came up with the obvious answer to the guy:
"What the hell do you think they were doing down at the beach at the beginning of the movie - making sand castles? They were picking up SUPPLIES!"
How's that?
Regards,
Joseph
Re: Brian Siano and what people complain about discussing movies--
I once talked with a guy (he's extremely intelligent, witty and kind) who said that he hated "The Piano" because he couldn't figure out what infrastructure was set up to bring food, clothing, etc. to the people living in the wilderness.
As part of my job is user support, I'm continuially amazed at what people find to complain about.
Chris,
Well, we're definitely on the opposite sides of a chasm in our opinion of trailers. When I watch a DVD (god bless 'em), the only thing I don't bother with is the trailers and tv spots. They just hold no interest for me (to take an extreme example, as DVDjournal.com put it, "How many different ways can you cut a 30-second spot, anyway?"). We'll just have to agree to disagree on this one.
No harm, no foul, compadre?
Regards,
Joseph
P.S. Though, of course, you are still completely wrong.
Kidding!
Kubrick is my favorite director of all-time but even I can't say I liked Eyes Wide Shut. I didn't hate it, though. It's not a bad movie. It's just incoherent and easily the least of his films.
It also contains one of the worst scenes I can ever recall seeing, the scene near the end when Sydney Pollack simply tells Tom Cruise everything that had just happened, explaining it all away while playing a game of pool. Extended sequences of pure exposition are seldom good but that one's an all-time stinker.
Joseph,
I just could not POSSIBLY disagree any more with your last assertion. Trailers are an art form. Trailers are fascinating. I love them. One of the little art house theaters in Boston used to run a half hour show of just trailers and people loved them. When I was in film school and we all went to the theater, we would frequently discuss what made a certain trailer good or bad. I still remember trailers I love (The Big Lebowski, Star Wars: A New Hope Special Edition, etc.) They are often the first thing I check out on a DVD.
If you've dismissed them as "just commercials" then I respectfully submit that you are missing out on a very important and enjoyable aspect of film.
Rob:
We're at the same stage. We disagree. I'm not interested in some legal argument. We won't get anywhere by discussing it further. As long as we don't go to any movies together, it shouldn't matter much to either of us anyway.
Brian:
Re: Eugene Walter
What an amazing, amazing personality. I shall look for this book. "Cat and monkey spirit"--good expression!
Was in the library last night. Grabbed a few good books. (by the by, read an intro to a Robert Crais hardback at McNally Robinson: Holy shit! What an opening!) Thought I'd noodle around for Ellison--though I've read what's at this library. Took a look for "Slippage." Hadn't seen it on the shelf for a while (I read it earlier this year) Checked its in/out status. It was SUPPOSED to be IN.
Bottom line? (Checked with librarian on this) I'd say it was stolen. *sigh*
I was CONSIDERING buying books of Ellison's, reading them, and donating them to the library. I think not; if they are going to invariably disappear. Looks like I'm obviously going to have ONE collection of books when I get to it as people seem to have sticky fingers when it comes to Ellison. (There are THREE, count 'em, THREE shelves of Silverberg's in the Science Fiction section. "Slippage" was the only one in that area. (Oh, there are others, in other sections. I suppose that's what may save them; but YEESH)
I'm sure you needed to hear that, H, ....Not. *grin*
Dennis:
The cookbook sounds great. I've written that down. I've always enjoyed finding cookbooks that offer more than just the recipes. I LIKE understanding the chemistry of cooking--allows me to play around even more. What kind of cooking are YOU into, Dennis?
I like sitting on the right hand side of the theatre, about halfway back from the screen. I'm tall (enough, let's say) and like to be able to move my legs around a bit so I like sitting on the aisle. I also like being able to go up the aisle WITHOUT having to pass patrons in their seats. On the occasion when I'm NOT on an aisle seat (doesn't happen much; I tend to go to shows that aren't too crowded) I am paranoid about where I have my food or my belongings. I make sure they are out of a passing person's way; and I generally, even, just stand up--none of this squirming around in my seat so a so-and-so can waddle by. To heck with that.
Taking a momentary hiatus from Mickey D's. I said I needed 40 hours a week NOW when I was interviewed. The lady said, "Oh NO PROBLEM, NO PROBLEM, we can get you that." I even said, if they didn't need full-time, I'd be willing to work evenings and weekends part-time while I continued looking for full-time work.
I've given them the 'benefit of the doubt' for two weeks. (Waited a week for that stupid "orientation." Long story. Same shit, different day.) I woke up this morning and said 'this is nuts.' I went in to see if the schedule had been upped in hours for me or not. (They'd originally given me three four hour shifts for this week; I'd gotten 35 hours last week which was satisfactory.) Of course it hadn't. (Another long story involving too damn many managers, making too damn many vague comments and them seeming to have hearing problems or summat--Hmm.. _I'm_ the old person; I thought _I_ was supposed to be the hard-of-hearing one. *grin*
Anyway, I talked to one of the better employees -- she's a manager, of sorts -- when I got there today, which was kinda nice, and she'll relay the message. (In fact, being the sort I think SHE is, she may smack a few heads for losing a good employee.)
But then again, I don't think they NEED good employees. All they NEED are warm bodies at McDonald's. *sigh* Too bad. I really enjoyed dealing with customers, especially during rush periods.
Justin:
Hello, we've never spoken, I'm Heather. Hope school's a blast. Water is good for reducing drunkeness--drink lots BEFORE. *grin*
I worked in the printing industry for a few years. I was laid off and went for a desktop publishing certificate. I found that for all the money I was spending (like you) I got quickly frustrated with the curriculum. Having been IN the graphic industry a tad, I had a sense of what I might ALSO need to learn and kept bugging a few teachers in particular as to why these things weren't being taught. Bottom line? Some schools haven't a clue. They are ruled by persons who set the curriculum according to what deals they get from curriculum contractors (New word. I'm simply calling them that.) and what the others, in charge feel is the 'best way to go.' I don't mean ALL schools are like that but.. This was MY experience.
If nothing else, school teaches you that it's an industry/business, just like just about everything else on the planet. There are noble teachers with noble ideals (Sheryl was one) and there are teachers who are just kowtowing to their superiors for tenure or a meal ticket or pick one. But when you are young and full of spirit and hope and look to elders for wisdom, you don't know about stuff like this, which is too bad, in some cases. (Oh, I know YOU are smart. You seem to be catching on quick and don't LOSE that attitude--it will serve you well and save you a lot of time, in the long run.)
But I wander around this university I frequent here in Winnipeg and more and more it sinks in that school is simply another "corporation"--if you're lucky it may be your FIRST and LAST one. So grin and bear and take what you can, any WAY you can. Just my four cents -- which almost converts to your American two.
Heather
One last thing and I'll be quiet and go back to work...
Nicole Kidman is available, huh? Let me run this by some of you who are more intelligent than my 68 IQ.
I could stalk Nicole Kidman. Send her love letters, see what she's doing for lunch, that kind of thing. Then, my wife finds out and freaks out and divorces my sorry ass. Then she could sue Nicole Kidman for alientation of affection. She could win a zillion dollars, I'd go into a state hospital, come back out cured and then hook back up with my wife and we'd live happily ever after. Huh? Huh? Think it'll work?
I think the only problem with this scenario is that Nicole Kidman would actually have to like me, thus the affection thing. But, how could someone not like me?
Brian/John,
I didn't like "Eyes Wide Shut", but would not say it was a waste of time. Technically, there probably isn't anyone better than Kubrick in setting up a shot and the three hours I spent in the theater watching a genius at work (no, I'm not talking about Tom Cruise) is one helluva lot better than the two minutes I spent talking to the slack-jawed yokel at the Home Depot the other day.
On the other hand, I thought "A.I." was a waste of time and was disappointed in the film because there was so much to work with--story, talent, actors, ideas--and nothing of consequence was made. It'd be like Michelangelo taking a lump of clay and making an ashtray out of it.
For what it's worth (and this does not mean I have any more opinions on the Rob Incident than already stated----that dead horse is sooo fuckin' dead), I enjoy previews. I enjoy watching these "commercials" as it gives me a sense of excitement of what I can look forward to. Sometimes. I mean, you've got trailers that make no sense at all and tell you nothing about the movie other than who stars in it; trailers that tell you the entire movie in those two or three minutes, including how it would end; and trailers that are put together well and, sometimes, even better than the movie itself. So, yeah, I'm the guy that gets there well ahead of time and tries to read who made the movie just before the credits disappear from the end of the trailer. I get pissed when there's only a couple of trailers before the movie. But, that's just me.
Justin,
ROTC, huh? Oh, well. Even the Army of one needs another one, I guess. I would suggest you do as much training as possible--Airborne, Ranger, etc. as I think that's the only thing you're gonna like about the Army. I say that and I don't know you, but based on your posts you appear to be somewhat intelligent and intelligence is hard to come by in the military as it's a proven fact that the longer you stay in the lower your intelligence. Then again, maybe you're not going to be joining and you're just looking for a taste of the life.
As far as that so-called prof, I hope it doesn't procreate. Besides giving out statistics which I would think it would be hard put to back up with the studies, anyone who would say that is a moron and doesn't need to be teaching.
Or, maybe since reading doesn't do any good,it's not reading the stop signs. Or, better yet, lure it out to one of the rifle ranges and/or live fire areas since the forbidden signs and the do not enter signs would be ignored by it.
Glad to hear someone else liked _Eyes Wide Shut_. I love Kubrick's work, but even this one escaped me the first time I saw it. Since Kubrick's the man who made _2001_ and _Barry Lyndon_ and _Dr. Strangelove_, I give him a benefit of the doubt that I don't extend to too many other artists-- I tell myself that it's likely that _I'm_ the one missing something.
For that matter, I loved _AI_. Kubrick's intention was to create a fairy tale for a future that might not be entirely human. And his points of reference for fairy tales weren't Disney movies or Spielberg's _E.T._, but the darker, terrifying work of the brothers Grimm. (And there's a nod to Felix Salten in those forest scenes.)
Instead, people tried to see it as a "failed" Spielberg movie. Or, they tried to fault the realism of its technological projections, which is sort of like nitpicking about the load-bearing capabilities of gingerbread walls. (Geez, any movie where villains use a Moon-shaped balloon to hunt down robots is clearly _not_ trying to be as hard-tech as _2001_ was.) People bitched about the length-- and I wonder if these same people would fault _Lawrence of Arabia_ on the same grounds.
And people actually thought that Kubrick would have ended the film in the suffocating depths of the sunken Coney Island, because Kubrick is "dark" and thus wouldn't have ever made a happy ending. (Which is why David Lynch would never make a movie like _The Straight Story_.) I loved the ending, personally; a nice mind-stretcher that recalls _2001_'s finale, a resolution both touching and Phyrric, and wallowing in enough sentimentality to balance out the ruthlessness of the rest of Kubrick's work.
On another front, here's ghe first paragraph of a book review in the Washington Post that will probably be of interest, seeing as we all like colorful literary figures:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A26114-2001Aug17.html
MILKING THE MOON
By Eugene Walter as Told to Katherine Clark
Crown. 295 pp. $25
Meet Eugene Walter. Born in 1921 in Mobile, died there three-quarters of a century later. He was, he said, "just something that got loose from Alabama," a "student of human endeavors on this busy planet," member of "a union called international cats and monkeys." "Polysexual" by inclination, he believed that "the very best sex is to be in a phone booth, naked, with a lot of butterflies." He traveled with "only the bare essentials: my Remington typewriter, my stuffed monkey in a bell jar, and a box of gold paper stars to sprinkle on the stairways of my apartment building." He was the sole inhabitant of Planet Eugene: "And once I was on a bus with Dame Edith Sitwell. We were the only two people on a Sixth Avenue bus in a snowstorm. I had been downtown shopping for castanets. That's the story of my life: out shopping for castanets in a snowstorm."
Heather: As to your question about cookbooks I'd like to recommend "Cookwise: The Hows and Whys of Successful Cooking" by Shirley O. Corriher. It's more of a cooking textbook that a cookbook. She explains not only how to make a particular dish, but the chemistry behind that dish and how to alter it in various ways to produce different tastes and textures. I found out about this book by watching "Good Eats" on the Food Network. She makes occasional appearences on that program.
Dennis
I think it's about time we gave Rob a rest. And Rob, stop defending yourself! You've stated your opinions cleanly and clearly. I'd hate to see us all fall into enemy camps because of something as mundane as carbonated sugar water. God, if this thread keeps up, I'll be dreaming of dancing soda cups.
Speaking of movies, I recently watched EYES WIDE SHUT. I had stupidly avoided this film because many of my friends and a number of critics said it was a waste of time. Far from the case: Kubrick's final film contains one of the creepiest movie moments I've ever seen: the satanic masquerade ball. It was as if Poe and de Sade collaborated on a more licentious version of "Masque of the Red Death."
Mr. L.
I am quite considerate with people. Consciously so. Where I find I need to learn etiquette I learn it. I will nevertheless continue, if I desire, to get up ANY time during previews because, in part, that's what previews are for; to DO the final things you need to before the movie starts.
The tangent in your rigid quibbling that's annoying ME is that you presume to have the data you need to judge that entire evening fairly. You weren't there, I was. There were dozens of extraneous things going on there that you're unaware of (on this I'll add too, though I agree with many of the points people here made about my interaction with that guy - both...BOTH he and I were being stupid - most submitted at least one comment that I STILL disagree with...simply because none of you were there. I know what subtleties prevailed there which my recounting couldn't fully embody. You don't. Imagine if a child leaves a bike under your car and you don't know it's there. Who's responsible for the crushed bike when you run it over? You have no idea what that guy's behavior was like before I could get a word in for any whole apology. Sorry, but he WAS acting like a punk WAY out of control from the start. However, that doesn't mitigate my end of it and that doesn't mean I haven't learned something about tact).
Case in point, I emphasized I wasn't feeling well that night; for me that can be serious because I take a medication to prevent seizures. It has rather intoxicating and dehydrating side-effects sometimes (usually depending on how you'd eaten throughout that day); gives you a hybrid light-headedness of alcohol and caffeine. No one's judgement is always at its sharpest when they feel kinda shot (and if your rejoinder is, "if you weren't feeling well that night why did you even go?" Well, I'll keep that to myself; there were reasons). An iced tea was what I felt I needed, not a soda (that's right, I used the reference to color up the original passage). And that's what I went for. So, if I need to get up for a moment before the movie gets started and YOU'RE sitting behind me don't fret, you'll survive it.
Y'know, being rigidly anal is actually another way of being discourteous. Just because we don't follow the dictates of Chris L. or his strict notions of what previews are for doesn't mean we're being inconsiderate. We may be handling last-minute needs at the wisest time: BEFORE the movie starts. THAT'S being considerate.
If all this sounded blunt and defensive, well...it came from the gut.
Awful tired...but I gotta check in with my Webderland peeps!
First day of school.
0500hrs: dragged ass out of bed, breakfasted, then strode across the street to meet my ROTC instructors for PT at 0600. My first Army experience was none too impressive. When they say the Army is about “Hurry up and wait,” they ain’t foolin’. The instructors took forever to get organized, jackassing around for a good forty minutes before we finally got underway. I was not amused. They’d just better impress me during my Military Science course tomorrow.
1100hrs: After pootling around the apartment all morning (fixing a sandwich, looking for naked pictures of Heather Graham on the internet, the usual), I headed back over to campus for the only other class I take on Monday, THE UNIVERSE AND HUMANITY: ORIGINS AND DESTINY, a science course. I’ll explain, as briefly as possible, what went down.
First of all, the class is taught primarily by teaching assistants, and places a great deal of emphasis on group work. This, despite the fact that I studiously avoided choosing any courses that had been advertised as being taught by TA’s, or involving excessive amounts group work. I’m not here to learn from stuttering second-stringers, nor from my hungover classmates. I was misled, but that’s not the main reason why I’m upset. I'll tell you why I'm REALLY upset:
Story goes something like this- In his introduction to the course, the professor informed the class that something like 95% of what a person teaches to others is retained in his or her memory. The fact may be accurate, and I suppose that would be a reasonable enough piece of information for him to share with his students, were it not for the fact that he was only sharing this information with us in order to advertise this new “peers as teachers” program, which is little more than another excuse for undergraduate professors to further abdicate their teaching responsibilities to less-qualified individuals. The prof was trying to get students involved in this thing by basically telling us how second-rate our learning experience was going to be if we didn’t sign the paperwork and participate in this new, experimental, and time-consuming program. I'm perfectly willing to go the extra mile to obtain knowlege, but I am not willing to sit down and allow it to go unremarked when I am told, "You've just spent a grand on a course that's pretty damn inadequate as it is, so may I recommend that you SUPERSIZE this one?" No, you goddamn good and well may not, you jackoff.
The prof went on to further explain why the class is taught the way it is. He said that around 80% of what people learn during group work is retained (bah). He persisted, listing different teaching methods, and as time wore on the “information retention” percentage kept dropping significantly. And would you care to know what was on the bottom of his list of Effective Learning Methods?
Reading, dear comrades. READING.
He said that only 10% of what a person reads can be retained. He didn’t say that SOME people only retain 10%, he flat out said to the class that we will only retain 10% of anything we read. I will provide for you an exact quote, one that has rather stuck itself in my mind: “You only retain 10% of what you read…SO READING DOESN’T DO YOU ANY GOOD.”
This was a new one on me. Reading doesn't do me any good? Gorsh. Izzata fact, spunky? Say, why don’t you lean a little bit closer? I, uh, I have to tell you a secret…
*SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *PUMMEL* *KICK* *BITE* *CLAW* *SCRATCH* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK*
Oh, the humanity. For a professor to stand before a room full of young students, an audience of damn near 100 undergraduates, and tell them that reading is no good…
Words fail me. They failed me in the classroom, and they continue to do so this evening. What bothers me most is this attitude that young people are suddenly only only capable of learning with visual aids and movies and "personal hands-on multimedia wireless broadband interaction" and user-friendly happy-face icons, which leads only to condescention and a dumbed-down curriculum. I've seen it before, but I somehow hoped that the same rules would not apply in a large university setting.
I did the only thing I could possibly have done in the situation: I valliantly fell asleep for the rest of the class period, then left the room in disgust and bewilderment. Allow me to quote, in full, the following passage I pulled directly from the class web site:
“WRITING EMPHASIS. The critical thinking embodied in your research project and other course work must be PRECISELY EXPRESSED IN WRITING to demonstrate your evolving scientific knowledge and intellectual growth in this course. All of your written work must be LOGICALLY ORGANIZED, GRAMMATICALLY CORRECT, succinct, and typed with a word processor whenever practical. Grades for all major writing assignments will include a substantial "pride of authorship" factor. WRITING THAT IS ILLEGIBLE OR BELOW COLLEGE LEVEL EXPECTATIONS FOR COMPOSITION WILL BE RETURNED WITH A GRADE OF 0.”
Uh huh? Really? So you want your students to write good papers for your goddamn new-age phsychobabble bullshit science-lite course, yet in the same breath you have the audacity to say that reading is a waste of time?
Gawd, people make me ever so weary.
I just haven’t got the words. “Crushed” and “disappointed” spring to mind, but they don’t seem to do. “Reading is bullshit” is just not what I expected to hear in my first class session here. Incredibly disheartening. Crestfallen, that's the right word.
All I can think to do is confer with my Creative Writing advisor and hope he is as appalled as I am, and will be able to help in some way. That, or I could just go back to the science class on Wednesday and crack that bastich professor right in the mouth, whatsay? Somebody double dog dare me.
Negativity negativity negativity. It’s my specialty. But I will say that I really like the campus, the tremendous buzz of activity that exists there, and the fact that the ladies tend not to wear very much of anything at all. I don't despise the place, I’m just hoping my other three classes turn out to be far better than this.
Oh...I ended up, oddly enough, spending most of the night watching ENEMY AT THE GATES on DVD at the ATP Fraternity House, where one of my new boxing buddies lives. It’s the house that gets burnt down in that 80's movie REVENGE OF THE NERDS, and the house is used every four years when PLAYBOY comes to town to do part of their PAC 10 photo shoot. Weird life.
Apoplectically,
J
Chris,
I still think that your argument is springing leaks - these are commercials, made to promote a product. They are not an artistic endeavour.
However, I agree (and have in all my posts) that to be rude to people is the paramount sin. To get up during a commercial? No problem. To be an ass about it? No way.
Regards,
Joseph
Joseph,
You use the word "commercial" to load your argument. I will use the word "trailer" to load mine.
I am perfectly aware of the fact that some people don't give a rat's ass about trailers. However, there are many people that do. I have no idea if they constitue a majority or a minority but that hardly matters.
I would point out the fact that trailers are included on DVDs as "Special Features" as one data point in favor of the argument that trailers are considered to have some sort of value, whatever that value may be. Also, virtually every time I see a movie with other people, we wind up talking about one of the trailers during the usual post-mortem on the film. Finally, I'd note that when it becomes known that trailers for popular movies are being shown in front of certain films, people often crowd the theater to see the trailer. This happened for Star Wars: Phantom Menace - I forget which film was the first to have the Star Wars trailer in front of him. There is usually a frenzy of online activity whenever a new trailer for a film is available for download.
I am belaboring a point that even I am not interested in but since I have a worse case of insomnia than usual, I'm still enjoying it. Point is, I think there is ample evidence to suggest that trailers do matter to some people - and it's more than a few. For me, they often wind up being more fun than the movie itself.
Now, of course, I never said Rob was swinish for getting up during the trailers. I did say that his doing so did inconvenience other peple and, for that fact, he had to consider himself culpable for anything else that happened as a result of his choice to do so.
I am tempted to say something critical of Rob for badgering this point to death but I look back at my four posts tonight and realize I am more guilty of it than he is.
Just as you say you don't mean to be rude to other people, I am sure Rob had no such intentions when he went to get his soda. Nonetheless, while it may never have occurred to you before that people are watching the trailers, I am merely providing a public service by letting you know that some of them are watching.
I think the best rule of thumb to observe in the theater is that once the lights are dimmed, you should stay in your seat.
It doesn't make you Genghis Khan if you get up during the trailers but just keep in mind next time that it will bug some people, so try to avoid it if you can.
Chris,
Sitting in the theater? About a third back, center seats. Not too close, but I can see everything (real fun the 1st time you see a 70MM film in the theatre, which was Hamlet for me).
Waling in and out for snacks during commercials (as long as I don't jabber loudly and hit people)? No problem. They're commercials. Advertisements. Once the movie starts, though, it's sit down and shut up time. I don't mean to be rude to fellow patrons (in fact, I've quietly gone out of the theater and had people tossed by management so my fellow patrons and I can enjoy the movie). Doesn't mean I have to sit slack-jawed during the commercials.
Regards,
Joseph
Where to sit in the theater...
About 5th or 6th row back from the front on the center aisle.
That's now, of course. But mumble mumble years ago when my eyes and neck and back were considerably better than they are now, I lived front row center and loved it. After all, it was the only place in the theater where nobody was going to block the view.
--- TR
While I'm sure this movie preview thing hasn't died out yet, I'm curious about something else regarding viewers' movie habits.
Where do you prefer to sit in the theater?
I like to sit near the front and in the center. The front row is too close but 2nd or 3rd from the front is often just right. I like to have the screen fill my entire field of vision but for none of it to be out of my field. In theaters with stadium seating, you can't sit quite as close because you have to look up too much.
Some folks have a strong preference for sitting near the back of the theater, feeling they get to see more. I feel like the further back you sit, the less you're watching the big screen and the more you're just watching another TV show but to each his or her own.
If forced to choose between sitting up front or sitting in the center, the center is more important. Of course, you can always avoid that choice by not going to the movies on weekend nights, something I haven't done in years. Love those twilight shows!
Speaking of Woody Allen, "Sweet and Lowdown" is currently playing on HBO. Great little movie about an obnoxious, but talented, jazz guitarist. If you've been wondering whatever happened to Sean Penn, check it out.
As for cons, I've always enjoyed myself at them. Not just for the fannish reasons (game demos, meeting authors, buying stuff), but also because it's an ego boost. I can look at certain con-goers and think, "Y'know, as geeky and unattractive as I am, at least I'm not THAT guy". Cruel? Yes.
Mitch
Joseph:
As long as there are other people in the theater that are interested in what's on the screen, then you are, to some degree, inconveniencing them by leaving the theater once you have already sat down. It's not as bad as doing it during the feature but you're still going to be disturbing some people.
Sometimes it's nice to understand that there are, indeed, other people in the world. And just because you don't care about something doesn't mean they don't. A little common courtesy can go a long way - too bad it's not so common.
Chris,
Leaving aside your attempt at sarcasm, I've gotta agree with Rob. There's nothing wrong with going to the bathroom and getting some snacks during the pre-movie commercials.
Regards,
Joseph
Rob,
Ouch, what a zinger, you really got me.
I can't argue with you. As long as other people are doing something, it must mean it's good. You're just so right. And, of course, if you and a few other people aren't interested in previews, then clearly nobody else is interested either and you may as well just bring your boombox with you and start blasting 'N Synch because, hell, that's what YOU want to do and what YOU want to do is certainly the only thing that matters.
I think I'm gonna go out and buy some bootleg videos now. After all, I see other people doing it all the time. That must mean it's right.
I saw some guy on the news tonight shot a bunch of people. And I've heard other people do it too. I'm gonna get me a gun right after I finish with them bootlegs.
Chris L.
I was just doing a post recap. Ealier, I had time to scroll only through some. Couldn't help but notice your incisive comment about previews, Chris. Some people here made some very valid points about my little love fest. A number of them were quite true. Yours wasn't one of 'em and it was distinctly important for ya t'know it. People were getting up all over the place during the previews, not to mention, as you pointed out, talking on the cell phones. Yet I am the one who should remain seated? Hey! Oddly, I'm one of the few who almost never go to the concession in movie theaters. Since I wasn't feeling well (how many times do I have to run that one again) a sudden urge to drink something hit me. And I wanted to rush it before the show actually did start. And, finally, I'll add that half these crappy previews were ever-ubiquitous ads (things we need to remember like the LA Times, etc.). I didn't seem get ANYTHING right in my last bunch of posts but this time I'm abso-(to plagiarize Harlan)-fuckin'-lutely on target, and YOU are WAY th'hell off. So, I didn't disrupt anything. You need to catch up to the movies, man. So live with THAT one Chris L. HAH!
God! That felt good. If I have ta go insane I'm takin' you with me.
Lynn: You're absolutely right; I misspoke myself. It was Saticoy, not Tampa. Tampa runs north-south.
David: the package arrived today. Thank you. Nothing ever happened with the "book of introductions."
HE
The amount of traffic on this bulletin board is astounding!
Amy & Joseph: Ok, let's get together at Dragoncon and then decide what to do. I'll do some research on restaurants in Atlanta and see what I can find.
David: I second your thoughts on "Under the Sand" and "The Road Home". Earlier this evening I saw "The Road Home" for the second time in 4 days. It is exquisite, one of the most beautiful movies I've ever seen. Everyone should see this film. Also, cons can be fun! I've been to several, both large (Dragoncon) and small (Readercon) and I've always had a good time. Some have been better than others, but I've never had a bad experience at one.
Debbie (going back into lurkdom before I'm disconnected!)
Rob:
Your story sounds believable. I believe you. I've seen guys get mad over fries. He shoulda moved his drink. That simple.
Heather
David,
(LOL). The EMPTY void has always been my great passion.
"What were you drinking? I'll be back with another in a minute."
That's what I should've said: I have it on index cards taped to my computer at home, on the walls in my bathroom, on the windshield of my car, in the ladies - er - mens restroom at work, on the soles of my shoes. The line is there for me to memorize and wedge into my consciousness a la Clockwork Orange. If I have to brainwash etiquette into myself I'll do it. For a moment I saw the world through Susan's eyes that day on the freeway. Scared th'hell oughtta me.
Goddamit, I been reformed!
The only time I've ever been to Washington DC, I saw two gorgeous 19 year old girls making out with each other on a bench.
DC gets a thumbs up from me!
RE: The Score
I liked it. It was eminently forgettable but it was a decent way to spend an afternoon. And I laughed myself silly when Brando first sees DeNiro and says "You look like shit. What's your secret?"
Jim Davis remarked of Rob's last post: "I detect a great...EMPTINESS in your post." Frank Church waxed rhapsodic about the work of one Allen Konigsberg.
I can put both of these together by recalling an exchange in "Love and Death":
--I feel this immense void at the center of my being!
--A void? What kind of a void?
--Well, an empty void.
First we go from food fetishing to soda tippling, and lack of anger management skills. Simply, ethics dictate that one should just pay for the poor guys soda and move on. But advising the crew cut asshole that his reaction was a bit overwrought is also a splended way to deal with the situation.
Saw, The Score on Sunday. Lame plot and very hammy acting from Marlon Brando. Brando could scare the devil into retirement with that pudgy, pasty face of his. DeNiro is having a bad set of values in choosing roles, as of late. First 15 Minutes, then The Score. Where is good old Scorcese when we need him?
Speaking of Schindlers List: Ralph Fiennes was robbed!!
Curse Of The Jade Scorpion coming soon folks!! Love dat Woodman. Woody Allen cannot do wrong in my book - at least as a movie maker. Crimes And Misdemeaners easily his best work. What a complex mind fuck that was. Good to know you don't have to believe in God to make a supreme spiritual statement.
Lynn, I hear you. I lived smack dab in the middle of Washingtoon, DC for four years, and let's just say that the attitude du jour was almost unbearable at times. The city is practically an island onto itself, and it's no wonder that its politicians are frequently out of touch with the rest of the country.
Jim
Jim, it must be the Anti-D.C. Those people are so incredibly conflicted as to which side of the Mason-Dixon line they ended up on, I can only describe it as the most *hostile* Southern hospitality I have ever encountered. And I lived just outside the Beltway for three years.
They made New Yorkers seem kind.
L.
Rob: I detect a great...EMPTINESS in your post.
Lynn: Yes, people in Tampa are really that polite. The turn signal situation is pretty dire, however. I think the clicking noise throws them for a loop--makes 'em think the whole damned car's gonna blow up or something.
Jim
Lorin's Tampa, FL is obviously in the same blissful universe where Harlan's Tampa Avenue runs east-west and Nackles waits on the street corners to wisk away those sorry schmucks who don't use their mirrors or turn signals.
L.
David,
Ohhh. Either you have a talent for literalizing too much or I have it for interpreting too literally. Whatever the case, whatever you CLAIM, I think that WAS you the other night. Yer ALWAYS there to drive me into pylons or send me over cliffs. As you can see...I'm still here. Just call me Captain Scarlet of the roadways.
Heather,
Re: Fleming. Sounds like he was fun. Don't know if I'll ever really get to him. I have a mental list of writers that definitely take precedence.
Re Loren's account of acts of kindness in Tampa, Florida:
Just think of it as one ordinary day, with Jujubees.
Got to Harlan's post to John Thompson on the huddled masses.
Just gotta say this:
*sigh*
Harlan A-Z Ellison rocks. lowercase. small caps. not a lotta fuss.
End of emotion. Furry hug.
H
Peg said: (ages ago)
>I nominate myself as a minor exception of the not being well read variety
Not to worry. I'm staring at the majority of these authors and going "Huh? Who ARE these guys?"
I know I've been reading; just not novels. I think I've gone through a lot of psychology, business, how-to's and computer manuals in the last number of years. I'm sure you've been doing something to bend your brain; don't worry 'bout it. *grin*
Heather
Rob:
No offense, but I'm going to stand by "stupid" for both of you. You're pretty clear on how stupid he was; but you were stupid to add insult ("you should have held your drink") to injury (knocking it over in the first place). You could have pulled back and apologized -- and nothing else -- at any time, but you offered an apology, quickly nullified it by telling him he was to blame, and then escalated when he started being (stupidly) belligerent.
What would you have suffered? A blow to your pride, which is highly overrated and easily recaptured. He lost an actual drink.
> I do kinda wonder, though, if that was you who drove me into
> a freeway pylon the other day.
Couldn't have been me. My freeway aggression is more nuanced and fair-minded. To pass you and then slow down is not my style; to note someone coming up behind me fast, way ahead of the speed limit, and to slowly pass someone someone at about the limit, thereby making the speed demon cool his heels behind us and huff and puff, is more my style.
I also choose to outrace people for being negligent (not using turn signals, cutting off me or other folk) or stupid (not watching the signs and getting themselves caught on an exit ramp), then for simply driving fast. Mainly, I want to get away from the danger such people pose on the road. And I give up races quickly, because the ridiculousness tends to hit me pretty fast.
I've never been to a Con and you guys are making me glad I haven't.
Read an interesting fantasy novel last week: _Towing Jehovah_ by James Morrow. It was refreshingly different, and plenty amusing, although not all the plotting worked for me. Apparently he specializes in religious fantasy/satire. Anybody read his other stuff?
Rob: (Re: Friday post)
I'm scuttling through some authors lately, to understand voice and writing style. Tried some "Mayor of Casterbridge," some Hemingway, "Black Charlie" (was it?), (thank you Harlan *sigh*) and I picked up some Bond as well.
I was about 12 or so when I was reading Bond books. I have different memories of what they meant to me then. It was interesting to wade through some of them, NOW, and see a completely different Bond. You'll find him different from the movies, no doubt. I thought Timothy Dalton, had he stayed, was Fleming's Bond. He was darker, more .. hmm...something.
I read a lot of Leslie Charteris too. I once had about 35 of "The Saint" novels -- yes, I once collected books too; most have found homes in libraries since then.
I like English writers--that's putting them in a lump, I know. But I look over my old appetities and see quite a few who were English. Has anyone comments on that to match .. or similar nationalities to offer?
Heather
Heather:
If you are interested in more info on low-carb eating, e-mail me and i'll be happy to share what I've learned.
For a quick reading list, the best is still Dr. Atkins' book (The New Atkins Diet). If, however, you have become indundated with the AMA's "If you go on the Atkins diet, you will die within three days" propaganda and want to approach someone who has not yet acquired the status of social pariah, you can also try:
The Carbohydrate Addict's Diet by Dr. Rachel Heller
or
Protein Power by Drs. Michael and Mary Eades
Needless, you should consider all the information in those books with a skeptical eye since they are trying to sell you their book and their diet. The important thing to glean from the books is the information about your biochemistry and, most importantly, the crucial role insulin resistance plays in weight loss.
And, of course, if you aren't overweight now (and being 5 or 10 pounds overweight doesn't count) you probably are not insulin resistant and might not need a low carb diet as much someone who is.
Of course, anyone can benefit from cutting out refined sugar. It is useless. It is poison.
And, yeah, I still eat it from time to time.
Heather - HE's all Susan's anjd it's best that way.
Let's try that again:
Heather,
The movie you're thinking of was "Legends of the Fall," from a pretty good collection of stories by Jim Harrison.
Regards,
Joseph
Heather,
The movie you're thinking of was "Legends of the Fall," from a pretty good collection of stories by Jim Harrison.
Joseph: How about "I Have No Creme Brulee, And I Must Cream"?
Sorry, couldn't resist,
Jim
Peg:
Per Harlan and gustatorial gooberings...*grin*
Don't worry. I believe in shairweeng. He's all yours and more, k?
H
Heather - "Legends of the Fall"
Heather,
Your coobooks query down below, for some reason, put me on a giggling fest, as I imagined the Harlan Ellison cookbook:
"It Was Not Counting Gold Coins: The Harlan Ellison Cuisinier Compendium"
C'mon - can't you just picture the cover now?
Regards,
Joseph
David Loftus:
Per your "Baron in the Trees" quote.
Truth. Tis truth. It brought me in mind of Brad Pitt's character in that movie..hmm...name escapes me. (Three brothers. Father Hannibal Lector. I'm outa practice on movie stuff.)
Also.. it reminded me of what a photographer does. He "shoots" animals with his camera.
Sigh..
I've recently drunk from that brook. (Any photographers out there?)
Heather
David,
Let's not brush by this "stupid" thing at the theater, here. I don't think I was being stupid.
Obtuse maybe. Lame perhaps. Dense mayhap. Egocentric, definitely. Imperceptive, why sure. But stupid? Nah.
Good to know how free of violence your life has been. We've all had the slashed chests. Thoroughly normal. I do kinda wonder, though, if that was you who drove me into a freeway pylon the other day.
Thanks Lorin!
And now for something completely different...
Three (Two True and One Fanciful) Signs of Every Day Civility in Mannerly Tampa, Florida:
1. At the post office today an older man and woman are making voluminous copies when they spot a young(er) man and his son, waiting to use the copier. Latter young(er) man has one copy to make. Older man sees young man and asks if he'd like to make a quick copy. Young man accepts with gratitude. Older man and his wife gather up all of their books and pages to give the younger man room. Older man chats with younger man's kid while the kid's dad makes his copy. Dad and kid get out of the way, offer their thanks AGAIN, and the older man and woman go back to their copies.
2. As I am trying to wrestle an enormous box out of my car and into the UPS office (yes, it was errands day around here), a man coming OUT of the building spots me, comes over, asks if he can help, and takes the big box back INTO the building for me. And, of course, I thank him.
3. At the movie theater (matinee), I accidentally knock over a woman's soda.
"Oh shit," I say. "I'm sorry! God, I'm clumsy."
"That's okay," she says. "I shouldn't have had it on the floor there."
"Oh, no, it's my fault," I say. "Let me buy you another."
"Gosh, there's no need to do that," she says. "Really, it's my fault."
"No, I insist."
"Well, only if you let me buy you a new pair of shoes. I'm afraid my Coke is going to ruin the suede."
"Oh, no! Don't even think about it. It's not real suede, anyway."
"You're kidding! They look real. So cute, too."
"Thanks. Can you believe they were only $12.00?"
"You're kidding! Where did you get them?"
Of course by that point, wanting to be considerate of others, we took our conversation to the lobby. I bought her a new soda, and she asked if I wanted to split a box of JuJuBees. We're having lunch together next Thursday.
Satirically Yours,
Lorin
oops. TOO not TO. Just a typo.
Alex - remind me to never anger you. I love my car to much. (It's not a british roadster, Lynn, but close - a Miata, which suits my driving style and personality perfectly. Cute, shallow, not too fast, but fun. *grin*).
Jim - responding to something way back - I am not hung up on being well read. Just an admission that in this crowd, I'm on the lower side of the distribution. To quote an old supervisor, "wouldn't it suck if we were all the same?"
Love all you webderfolks, no matter what I say or you think!
(I'm picking at these as I get to 'em. Sorry, if your eyeballs water. *grin*)
H A R L A N !:
Re: your food post
All of the above! *LAUGH*
(You dumped applesauce on yer head? Huh?)
It just occured to me that I'm glad I came across you, first, as a lover of movies and a good writer. I can enjoy BOTH and not get too fat.
As for food..omigawh...(Yes, I knew you were a food reporter although I've only seen your pieces in "Hornbook." Too bad they aren't collected somewhere.)
Glad to hear the bakery is back in business. I LOVE hearing about small businesses hanging in there. Truly, I do'd.
San Fernando Valley--I was IN the SFV for two weeks in '71 when my dad was working out there. Why didn't you WAVE?
Here's a better idea--as I have broached the sea of cookbooks before and know how to waddle through the piles upon piles of them from past excursions--name me a few cookbooks that you drool over. (That goes for the rest of you varmits.) THAT might be fun to go looking for. I'm a kind sorta empty vessel, these days, in need of filling. What's your favorite flavor, Harlan, if I may be so bold.
As for fisticuffs over food, it ain't gonna happen, man. YOU da man, Sam. You da man. *snort* I've read your exuberance over food. I KNEW you might have a few mots to plop.
Yum..
Let me wipe this drool off my chin.
Heather
Rob,
I absolutely read more than two sentences on this subject. (I presume, in this case, you meant two sentences of the posts - possibly your posts - relevant to the movie encounter.). I saw the debate back and forth, some admittance on one side of the issue, some on the other, by multiple parties.
I was merely casting my vote in what could one of the few items(along with the whole french fry junk food topic!) that lovely Webderland would have to an internet poll. I attempted to do so with some casual humor and utterly failed. (And likely am failing here as well - how well I know that I'm not a writer, or charming).
Bottom line, Rob, is that, as many folks on webderland do on a variety of topic with a modicum of civility, we agree to disagree for whatever reasons. I take your point, honest. Been there in situations similar but different. ;-) Just throwing in my less than 2 cents worth.
Heck, you think you and Alex and Harlan and Lynn and whoever else are the only folks who lose their temper in occasionally unjustified, or instead, wasted situations? I believe one post made a reference to this being somewhat typical for males. It ain't male, it's human. Use whatever excuse you like - male, PMS, work stress, kid stress - my personal favorite is the combined background of Sicilian and redneck in combination with whatever has had me wonked out (or more likely, self-focused) lately.
Nuff said here as well. Cheers...
Rob: Don't fret any more about what happened at the theatre. Just be glad that it didn't get violent, and resolve to apply the lessons you've learned to future situations. The final grade is what counts in life, not the time that you screwed up the second period pop quiz because you hadn't read that week's chapter, dig? (Though some instances of bad behavior count more than others--if you dragged some black man behind your pickup, well, let's just say that I might mark you off of my Christmas card list, you know what I mean?)
I, too, can hardly wait to see THE OTHERS again. Even if a second viewing reveals flaws in the film's structure, I think my initial enthusiastic response will remain. What can I say? The film WORKED for me, and has resonated in my mind like precious few movies of recent memory have. I'm a little mystified that Ebert has such a luke-warm reaction to it; he's always demonstrated a genuine affinity for F&SF film. And isn't it kind of amazing that a Chilean has such a feel for the English ghost story? THE OTHERS and OPEN YOUR EYES have marked Amenabar as a 'must-see' filmmaker for me.
Alex: Re the flamingoes incident: (SHUDDER) I see snowy egrets traipse across my lawn all the time, so that really hit home for me. The bastards should've had a mixture of anthrax and battery acid injected into their eyeballs (who's getting all Walter Mitty now?).
Heather: Mickey D's is a kid's racket. Find something a little more worthy of your talents. You deserve it.
Brian/Mike: So, you're telling me that slovenly hygeine and retarded social development are bad things? Who'd a thunk it?
Harlan: I loved reading "Along The Scenic Route--Redux", but, man, DON'T do anything to get yourself killed, ok? I'm speaking from a purely selfish perspective--I wanna buy the five-volume, deluxe lettered edition of THE LAST DANGEROUS VISIONS with the slipcase of cherrywood-and-leather someday, you dig?
Oh great, NOW I've done it. I HAD to mention TLDV, didn't I? (sigh) You just can't take me anywhere...
Realizing that if he ever saw Harlan using a smiley-face or any other emoticon, he would plotz,
Jim,
Rob:
Talking about meat... (old post. I'm behind. shoot me.)
What's interesting is you've reminded me of something. My mother made the dinners at my place (oh, my dad cooked too, that's beside the point) and she tended to overcook the meat. I really don't think I was much interested in things like steak til I was in my twenties and started going whacko over cooking food myself.
So thank my mom. *laugh* I think that's PARTLY why I don't have a propensity for meat.
Sins of the mother; or summat like that, eh?
Heather
Wow. Until Peg and Lynn finally showed up, I was inclined to observe that our normally loquacious females were conspicuous by their absence in the Rob-at-the-movies thread. (I was absent mainly because I don't check in here on weekends.)
I don't have anything to add to that thread. Pretty much everything's been said, and I'm not terribly qualified to comment because although I'm sometimes a bit of a demon on the road, my life has been remarkably free of violence -- at least of the male-on-male variety. There was the fellow who sliced open my chest wall with a knife, but I don't think ANYONE would say I had done anything to provoke that. Short answer: both Rob and the other guy acted stupid, and a spilled drink is simply not worth getting worked up over.
It was fun seeing Harlan change his mind several times in response to the various posts that came in on this issue. Makes the guy seem less magisterial -- more human -- than we are sometimes tempted to picture him.
So let's talk movies. I really liked "Memento." "Snatch" and "Shrek" and "The Dish" (refreshingly sweet, that one) were also worthwhile. But I can never understand when someone says "this is a bad year for movies," because there are SO MANY of them every year, so many different kinds, and I can't compare the forests for the trees.
Maybe you guys live in places where not many of the non-American, non-blockbusters manage to show up, in which case too bad for you, but I've also enjoyed "The Princess and the Warrior" (Tykwer and Potente; a couple of us mentioned this here a few weeks ago), "With a Friend Like Harry" (French Hitchcock-style suspense thriller), "Under the Sand" (also French, but a more contemplative, lyrical mystery; Charlotte Rampling riding high again), "Hedwig and the Angry Inch" (a screamingly hilarious transvestite glam-rock cross between "The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" and "The Rocky Horror Picture Show") and "The Road Home" (Yimou Zhang's lovely, lyrical, epic village love story, with the young actress who played the evil princess in "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" -- this is better acting in a better movie).
As for glorious retreads, the 25th anniversary re-release of "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" is out -- saw that last night on the big screen for perhaps the 8th time -- and "Apocalypse Now Redux" is out. Haven't seen that yet, but you bet I will.
Chris L:
Per your comments on Friday, I think. (sorry, if this is repeated further on; I was intrigued by his comments)
I've never had too much trouble with my weight -- oh, periods of a few extra pounds here and there -- but I glommed on your "potato" comment. Darn, I LIKE potatoes... and pasta. (But salads are like a 'drug' food. What can I tell you.)
So.. I'm curious -- and as I've said, in "seeker mode" these days. Could you offer a book or subject to do this this kind of eating?--I'm curious.
I go on and off sugar, as it's available. (I'm a Hershey baby. I still prefer it to Cadbury. Go figure.) One bag of potato chips every couple of months or so reminds me why they _aren't_ a favorite item. *grin* I LIKE ice cream but tend to be picky on the quality. (I like Ben and Gerry's. The Breyers up here is NOT what I remember from childhood. I'm contemplating making my own instead.)
I'm doing a lot of biking riding these days and a lot of walking. I'm getting a little skinnier than I've been for a while, having been computer-bound for a few years. I figure to lose some weight before I go back to weightlifting which I've tried and like (no, not to extremes, but I always liked "swimmer's shoulders, if you understand my drift.)
Blah..blah..blah..I digress.
Heather
Amen to Mike's comments about conventions. A lot of con stuff doesn't bug me too much. I can deal with obscenely fat people dressed like Stevie Nicks. And the time I wandered into what looked like a party room, and got an eyeful of a couple of B&D/S&M people whipping someone lashed to a crucifix... well, I have a strong live-and-let-live ethos in such situations.
So I'll let loose here a little. What bugs me about cons? The _smell_, for one thing: the only time my allergies have ever reacted to _human_ dander has been among fanboys. And in a hotel with sealed windows, well...
Then there's the stunted sense of humor. Sure, we know about the clumsy puns and eternal recitings of _Hitchhiker's_ gags. But there's a style to fanboy humor that, well, I haven't really codified why, but there's a snobbish feel to it that really irritates me.
But the worst are those little events that demonstrate that fanboys are just extremely poorly socialized people. There was the time I walked out a door, and this woman throwing off Regal Attitude came walking in through the same door-- ceremonially holding the point of a real duelling sword around eye level, and intoning, "Make way." There was the time the con floor was shared by a wedding reception, between two Japanese families, and the bridemaids were clearly upset at the line of about twenty Harry Knowles lookalikes who were standing there, _staring_ at them, making remarks about the "tantalizing fee-males."
My own favorite was at the hotel front desk, where a young couple was checking in. Boyfriend went to get the luggage, and who should wander up to the girlfriend but three guys wearing Clockwork Orange gear. They launched into Cockney accents and Nadsat glossaries, and began asking her if she'd like a bit of the old in-out, in-out. After they wandered off, the girl had noticed my grimaces, so she asked _me_ to explain what that was all about. (I did, patiently and with sympathy and lots of apologies for "my people," but I hated to be the one to have to explain boorish behavior.)
So when I get home from a con, for some strange reason, I have this need to listen to some really aggressive stuff-- the Sex Pistols, Shane MacGowan and the Popes, some Bill Hicks monologues.
They say that, much like finishing a book, the hardest thing about restoring a car is finishing the job. The best medicine is to start on your next project as soon as possible.
The car is in Tarzana.
http://americandreamcars.com/1947packard.htm
Seems to be a plethora of Packards in the Valley. And as for me, no thanks. I'll stick to my little British roadsters, thankee very much.
L.
Lynn,
Stop testing my ego. My teeth are just nifty
'cause I can handle myself, 'cause I'm a tough guy, see?
Having aroused the Cro-Magnon in me I'll say no more. (g)
Peg,
BTW, for clarity's sake, if I carried more of the blame than I realized by ANY degree the other night I feel very bad about it. One point I'm trying to make is some of the responsibility was his too and he should've considered that, acting upon it and meeting me with reason. We could've reached an understanding. But I've already considered the etiquette I would need should a similar incident ever arise again.
Nuff said.
Rob~ re: Suffering the groundlings, you came home with all your teeth. You're doing okay. I don't know what it is about theatres that brings out the 'best' in humanity. We went to see 'Planet of the Apes' opening night and had a confrontation with a couple of idiots that ended in one of those male handshakes that apparently translates to 'I'm shaking your hand and this is done with otherwise I'll have to cause you grievous bodily harm' and not 'I'm sorry my woman is an uppity bitch.' I still don't understand that, but okay - it's a male thing. I can live with it.
We got there a half hour early. We got a spot in the middle of the row. We got our drinks. We were 'settled.' Come the previews, a couple of latecomers with their DINNER come trundling through the row, obviously thinking that with the one seat on either side of us that we wouldn't mind scooting over so they could have the two consolidated seats. No problem. We scoot over. Problem #1: They didn't ask the people on the far side of us, and it turns out that single seat WAS occupied. No problem for the groundlings. They'll sit TOGETHER. IN ONE SEAT. Problem #2. Two people in one seat are obnoxious enough as it is, but I was even willing to put up with that (even after I was a bit incensed about being climbed over during the previews).
Title credits are rolling. Problem #3: Groundling female pulls out HER DINNER. Now I love sweet potato fries. I really do. But I don't drag them to the theater with me and inflict them on my fellow movie goers. And I don't sit there are munch on them in their paper wrapper during the film. I'm pissed now. This is rudeness beyond rudeness. Now, I confess, my SO had offered to switch seats with me, so I wouldn't have to deal with it, and if I had been in that nigh-Buddhist serene mindset, perhaps I would have just capitulated. I wait until the movie is starting before I ask her in, what in hindsight was a definitively bitchy tone of voice, "Are you almost through?" If she was gonna shut up and watch the movie, I would have been steamed, but I would have shut up about it. As it was she got all pissy at ME, after having climbed over me to get to their ONE seat, and I was two seconds from calling the manager when groundling male sees fit to start staring. That glare that just sends me right back to fourth grade and the animalistic posturing that takes place on the playground. I confess, I bit and I bit hard. I'm askin' this guy "Is there a problem?! Is there something ELSE I can do for you?" I was so livid I was shaking.
The SO stands up and in his loving command voice says, "That's enough," makes me switch places, and does that male handshake thing. I honestly think the only thing I remember about that movie was laughing (in my head) at the similarities between the senator's trophy wife ape and the groundling female beside us. It was a small bit of cosmic justice.
The resulting spat at home that night was not pretty and basically boiled down to, 'How much shit am I supposed to put up with before I can push back?' Not to mention a lecture on 'disparity of force', and a level of training as a contributing factor in that argument. Turns out if you're pretty confident you could fuck somebody up with your bare hands, you let a lot more slide before you even begin to get steamed at someone. Oh, and he thought it was 'cute' that they were sharing a seat. We agreed to disagree on that issue.
As to the road rage, let's just say that there are fingernail marks in the dashboard of my car where my passengers routinely cling on for dear life. Another place he's convinced I'm gonna get him killed for cussing out the wrong person. But in my car, I'm the one in charge. Period. I did give him "Along The Scenic Route" to read, and yes, he did laugh till tears ran down his cheeks. At my expense. God, I love him.
There is just one final point I'd like to clear up for the record, because I'm a picker of nits. I cut the quote from Orson Welles as Harry Lime whole cloth from an online source of quotes. The attribution was theirs, not mine. The sentiment was more what I was concerned with at the time. I've never even seen the movie. And I hereby remove myself further from any discussion of attributions, because you guys are the masters of such trivia and I will never be able to compete.
L.
Rob,
Sounds to me like this ignoramus was gonna be confrontational regardless of your response. Whether you had apologized and offered recompense or had apologized and proceeded to call him on the carpet (as did happen), his response ( just guessing here) would have been the same. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
Just my two cents.
-Andrew
Peg,
In all frankness you sound like you read about two sentences.
I thank you for the philosophy lesson and I conceded a few things I didn't before; nevertheless, given the conditions two people have their responsibility NOT one. The causal trigger mechanisms are set at both ends.
Most of the time I'm more considerate than a lot of people you come across; I'm not in the habit of acting like a jerk. If this were the other night - given some of the afterthoughts - I'd go out of my way more to atone. Nevertheless, as I did my part of the job (though, like I said I was feeling bad, so I might not have been as careful as I thought - that's ONE of those afterthoughts) HE is in control of the rest because he's the only one who holds the crucial sacred knowledge.
And I still say if we're going to make judgement calls on each other we should read each other's passages more carefully, even if they're long. You may well be leaving out some critical info.
Returning from the wild that was the weekend....
Harlan,
I was re-reading a copy of "Stalking the Nightmare" that I picked up at a used bookstore, and was amused to see a photo drop out from between the dustcover and the book. It is a picture of you signing books, supposedly in 1994 (that's the developing stamp on the back of the photo). You're wearing that wonderful Sandman t-shirt that has Morpheus holding the Globe of Solomon over Baghdad, from the Arabian Nights story. Amazing what you find in books in used bookstores.
Regards,
Joseph
*Mickey D's is not for me*
I was going to write a piece on McDonald's. I started it this weekend. It read like a first year writing student's journalized rant, filled with invective and accusation. I threw it away. I'm going to try something else.
This situation reminded me of an episode of Young Indian Jones--you might remember the series from a few years back. Nearing the end of the episode, Young Indy is faced with the decision of fighting some big newspaper tycoon--an issue as old and tired as most big corporate entities offer today--or taking off to have another adventure. He stood for a moment, his tanned, young face perplexed, trying to decide the right thing to do.
He went for the next adventure.
Heather
Some of you may already know of this, but for those that don't...
Good place to get used/rare books online: www.abebooks.com
re: conventions
Hard to say exactly how to spend time at a sci-fi convention; I've only been to one, and lordy, it was AWFUL. I speak of ArisiaCon 2001.
Now, I'm not a HUGE science fiction fan; truth be told, my appreciation of our Mr. Ellison's work (and my attraction to this forum) comes mostly from his essays and the general personal narrative of most everything he writes. Still, I've watched enough Star Trek and read enough of the "popular" books to get most of the jokes (Ha ha! 42! I GET IT!!!1), so I figured I'd plunge into an honest-to-goodness science fiction convention last January. So I went to ArisiaCon.
I was expecting a proper dealer's room, not vendors selling stuff out of their hotel rooms. (Which made it awfully easy to sell bootleg videos and CDs, let me tell ya! Not to mention the fake swords and corsets that everyone seemed to have.) I was expecting nerds, of course, but I wasn't expecting throngs and throngs of rather unwashed types wearing a bizarre, indiscriminate assortment of period costumes ranging from 8th-century to 19th-century. Seriously, I wasn't into the whole Herc-n'-Xena feel of the people I encountered. The fact that many of them had no problem blocking the hallways, and indeed seemed offended when I tried to shoehorn my way past them, did not help matters. The overly-loud discussion of sexual acts in the con suite (the con suite?!) did not help matters.
What was I left with? A handful of vaguely-interesting panels, which were unfortunately also subject to the eau de fanboy that pervaded the entire joint. My only real enjoyment came from surveying the lovely, art-deco architecture of the hotel the con was held in (brass n' glass mail chute! Wheeeeee!).
Finally, god help me, I fail to see what science fiction and polyamory have in common. Nevertheless, there was a panel on the subject on the day I was at the con. I did not attend.
Maybe my expectations were skewed by attending several anime (japanese cartoon) conventions, because at those events, people were cleaner, there was an actual dealer's hall, the male-female ratio was balanaced (actually, probably skewed female at the last couple I've attended), and the costumes were louder and more ridiculous but not as strangely homogenous. Then again, I dig them Japanese cartoons, so I was probably bound to enjoy myself anyway. Or maybe I just don't read enough science fiction books. (My attendance at ArisiaCon was clinched by the con's name-- I have a significant weakness for the works of Doc Smith. Pity I couldn't really find any there.) But the Arisia thing, no, it was bad. Definitely bad.
So, in conclusion, I'm sure you'll have a WONDERFUL TIME#@!@#!!
Rick --
I think there was a total of 13 WORKING WITHOUT A NET episodes, but however many there were, I have them all archived away neatly - so if you're missing any, send me some e-mail and I'll get them to you.
Wow... alla that in about 14 hours since I last logged on (at which time the top post was Harlan to Brian about his baby steps).
Harlan - your driving story reminds me of the plot of "Along the Scenic Route" although with a happier ending.
Rob - it's causality, dude. It wouldn'ta got knocked over if you hadn't been traipsing. And you're right, he shoulda made sure he had it in hand, so to speak; but twas your foot not his that done it in. (Personally, if I set the drink on the floor, it goes partly under the seat towards the side edge - it's a learned behavior).
Previews - used to be a favorite part for me. These days (in the UK) there's minimum 20 minutes of *!commercials!*, and maybe 5-10 minutes of previews. I kid you not - we were out this weekend and were close to leaving when the previews finally started. [In their favor, I think the UK movie theatres will tell you when the movie will actually start vs the theater start time if you remember to ask].
Summer movies, movie "years", they're all displaced on this side of the pond. Most movies are released anywhere from 1 to 6 months later here, some straight to rental, some to screen. There's no logic to it. (Oh, sure, there's some funky movie distribution and demographics logic to it but who can follow that?!)
Peg
Well, me--I'll be looking for some rarer books, sure--but I had been thinking the books I'll REALLY be buying are the ones out of the authors' hands--I know that Connie Willis and Norman Spinrad and Lawrence Watt-Evans will be signing, so I figure to buy their new books from THEM.
I want to meet these people, mainly; see what the panels are like, talk to a few writers I've spoken a bit with online, thank some people for the entertainment they've given me--generally have a good (if expensive) time. And, as I've never conned befo', I'd like to glom the ceremonies a bit.
(My main aim for the con is to successfully resist clinging to Patrick Nielsen Hayden, begging him to publish my books ...)
To Alex, re Worldcon:
Depends on what you like to do at a con. I'd be a poor guide; I go to the occasional con mainly to check out the dealers' room for the odd book or two, and on the off-chance that I'll get into an interesting conversation or share a meal with some innarestin' people. (A voice from the back of the room shouts, "What about meeting girls?" which I meet with a cold stare and reply, "This is a _science_ _fiction_ convention_," which should explain everything.) Whenever I go to Philcon, the dealers' room seems smaller and smaller, and it seems as though everyone else knows everyone else. But maybe I'm getting boring and sullen in my old age.
Jim,
Yeah, thank you for stressing the comradeship because when emotions are the driving force behind an assumption defensiveness gets a hard-on. In the Real World, when someone corrects me, I often have to walk away and let the factors rearrange themselves in the cerebral matter. My ego gets in the way too much when we're mano a mano. Often I come back with an enlightened attitude. I agree with your point about the adjunct to my apology. I did, in fact, think he was stupid for not doing what everyone else had done when I was trying to get through. In essence, I had told him that right up front - COMPLETELY nullifying my apology. Just keep the humility factors intact and reimburse the poor bastard.
Your comments about 'The Others' was added to a growing number of praises I'd come across over the last week; in spite of Ebert's trashing it people are digging the archetypal elements of the movie. I do need to see it again because I was so pissed and distracted for the rest of the evening. The ending came through most, and I DID like it - though it's clear to me it's following in the ectoplasmic tracks left by 'The Sixth Sense'. It reverberated the condition of real lonliness and isolation; people entirely confined to a separate world. That's exactly the kind of anxiety a good ghost story is supposed to do. I've always been a sucker for ghost stories - the few good ones you can come across (in books OR film). So, sometimes I'm a little generous. For me, the biggest trick watching this type of movie is to recall the world you saw as a kid; look at the elements of the film through those eyes. The evocative power augments; what you once understood about fear returns.
I definitely want to see it again. It does recall elements of Henry James. Knowing the end won't interfere because I need to experience its structure. THEN I'll tell you whether it's a good film or not. Even if I declared it a technically so-so film I would probably still like it. I CAN tell you I disagree with Ebert's reasoning about it.
Re: Nightmare Alley. We'll see. I know the film Power did was very well done. Poor novels are often the ideal source for great movies. Not vice versa. But this may well be a damn good book. After all, 'Catcher in the Rye' got dumped on recently in favor of William Goldman.
See ya in the strait-jackets, dude.
This has been a boring year for movies so far. A lot of people talked about how bad 2000 was but I thought it was about average. There were some movies I loved last year like Dancer in the Dark, Unbreakable and Traffic plus plenty of ones I liked such as You Can Count on Me, Requiem for a Dream, Cast Away (just for the second act which I loved to death) and O Brother Where Art Thou.
This year, I have yet to see even one movie I thought was anything special. Memento was interesting but I view it as an interesting near-miss rather than a really good film. AI was a disappointment though I didn't hate it as many people seem to. Planet of the Apes was a travesty and I wish Rob had been around to walk in front of me during that movie.
However, even though the calendar year is closing in on the 2/3 mark, the film year isn't half-over yet. I don't know if there are any great films in the pipeline but I'm sure there will be some pleasant surprises along the way. The only ones I'm aware of and looking forward to are Harry Potter, The Fellowship of the Ring, The Man who Wasn't There and From Hell.
I really hope Chris Columbus does a good job with the Harry Potter movie. It would be a crime to botch that one.
Yes, I know it was during the previews. For me, the previews are part of the show, part of what I paid my money for and I am just as annoyed when people talk or move around during previews as during the feature. OK, maybe not quite as much but I still want to see the previews, even when they suck. If I don't make to the theater in time to see the previews, I'll wait for the next showing. It's all part of the price of admission for me.
Other people don't consider the previews to be part of the show and feel free to talk on their cell phones or balance their checkbooks until the "real show" starts.
And I still say that if you forgot to get your stuff before you say down, then you just gotta say "My bad" and stay in your seat.
But, again, I know others disagree with that. Hey, everyone is entitled to be wrong. :)
New subject, if I may:
In about a week and a half, Worldcon will be held here in my hometown of Philadelphia.
I'll be going to my first con ever.
Just had a look at the program.
OMIGAWD.
Three and a half days--SEVENTY-THREE PAGES of activities!
And the conflicts: Brenda Clough and ALawrence Watt-Evans giving a talk on comics at the same time Lois McMaster Bujold is giving a talk on writing? Connie Willis versus Norman Spinrad? Aaargh!
Anyone up to giving a crash course on How to Survive a Con?
(given that I--too poor at present for hotelling--will be taking our poor excuse for mass transit every early morning from and every late night to NE Philly ...)
So far I find Mike's post most applicable; still I find myself too lost in a subjective haze. Those I've related this to in person agree with my pov, those online don't. The timing, where my mind was when it happened (I never did mention I was NOT feeling well that whole evening), the emotional static...they all obfuscate the problem. Whoever said the emotional mindset was the cradle of wisdom, anyway? If, indeed, I'd felt I was in the wrong I'd have pushed my apologies more. If, in hindsight, I begin to feel I was in the wrong, then I feel like an asshole.
All I can tell you guys is that I apologized to him before anything else and tried to point out we need to pull back in our seats when people are trying to get through (again, for those who keep missing the point, this was NOT during the movie. This was during the previews; I'm a film student, which means I never get up in the middle of a movie. I'm practically religious about that). He jumped in my face aggressively before I could feel contrite or anything else. All I could think was, "I can't believe this guy didn't hold on to his drink". If our roles had been reversed and I'd refused to allow room for him to come through after knowing he was there, and down went my cup, I wouldn't expect HIM to reimburse me. If, on the other hand, he'd rocketed through without consideration I would. If he had given me the space to move through and the cup went down I would've INSISTED on reimbursing him.
The ONLY thing I can tell ya from this lesson is I'll strengthen my discretion, if for no other reason, to see what's happening under my butt. If he isn't giving me room, I'll politely advise, "be careful with your cup". Apart from that I've always reciprocated someone's approach to me. If he tries to reason with me I go as far as I can with him. Some incidents are clearer than others. Here, I honestly cannot measure with confidence who was more in the wrong; but you did succeed in pushing me to a point in the battlefield, wherein, if 'Lenny' and I were there in the theater now, I'd offer a reimbursement as a middle course; after all, in feeling fucked up, maybe I'd pushed through with more force than I thought.
I dunno, maybe as a blanket policy, rather than following up my apology with "practical" advice, I'll just automatically offer the reimbursement. This with the added discretion. Always try to simplify the equation. That is my "scientific" assessment. (Sorry, I'm cogitatin' whilst typing).
This kind of weak self-assurance is residual from a crappy upbringing, and without siblings. And I'm trying to compensate. If discretion is the better part of valor, pride is the subrogation for insecurity.(g)
I will, however, offer this to a couple of you: are any of us without personality quirks that contradict our ethics? Working on them is what counts...and not MANY of us do that.
And, uh, thank you for keeping us all on the rails, Harlan. In SPITE of the inconsistancies. I feel like a lab rat at the moment, but, damn it, that's my job!
Here's the one thing about all this that I don't understand:
Why get a drink at the movies?
Maybe it's just me.
Now, on the other bits: I, too, have often given the psuedo-crazed scream of machismic rage. After a bit of observation and practice, you get to know JUST how far things can be pushed. I don't do that anymore, though. My current ladylove, while no shrinking violet, startles easily at loud noises.
Even SNEEZES.
So to go off, hair-trigger-like, would be pretty damned unkind to her.
What I DO do, however, are things that satisfy just as much, but allow me no exposure to reciprocation, being as they are delayed-action gambits:
1) A car almost hits me in the parking lot of a supermarket. I juke and weave and get out of its way. Avoiding his OWN culpability, the guy curses me out.
Mark its parking position.
Make an extra purchase at the checkout.
And when Schmuckboy revs up to leave (on a very hot day), he finds that some vindictive soul has smeared the vent intake of the a/c system of his car with Limburger.
2) (Years ago) I find out that a certain university president--who (at the time) just raised tuition, goaded professors into a strike by cutting wages, refurbished his office suite to the tune of six figures, et cetera--is giving a speech at the student lounge where I planned to swoon with my honey, thus closing off the loungue (unless you're a rich alumnus).
A janitor points out said prez' car.
My honey cautions me, "Aaaaalex ... don't do it. Whatever IT is."
I beg off, saying that I had a class the same time as hers, so there's no IT to speak of.
Walk her to her class.
Walk to mine ... but detour by a food truck, buying a few pounds of salted sunflower seeds.
I use the aforementioned car as a feeder platform for the many many many city pigeons around campus.
Go to my class.
Smile, knowing the salt-and-shit damage to come ...
... and a few more like these.
But these days, I don't even do that sort of thing; I just Walter Mitty up horrible scenarios: At the zoo yesterday with friends, someone brings up the news item of a few years back of a break-in at some U.S. zoo. The guy got in and systematically broke all the legs of all the zoo's flamingos.
And the aghast/angry chorus begins: "A guy like that should be put in jail." "Should be put UNDER the jail." "Should have HIS legs broken." "Should be shot."
It fell to me to be the voice of reason. "No, no; you're all overreacting. Jail? Execution? Aren't we a more humane society than that? No," I continued on in a slightly-smiling, dreamy voice, "That person needs TREATMENT. I'd recommend that he be admitted to a good psychiatric institute ... where they could simply put ground glass and iodine salts into a pastry syringe, shoot it under each kneecap, and then send him on his way, rehabilitated."
(I didn't tell them that that was the relatively CLEAN and PAINLESS version of the punishments I'd flashed on ...)
These are fun, productive, creative, and generally better for one's health, I find.
A movie question:
Original Sin opened on the 3d (though it didn't play here in Darkest Oz); this one is based on Cornell Woolrich's Waltz into Darkness. Anyone happen to see this? Worth seeing or just another butchery?
TR
Rich:
And what is wrong with soap at the end of a penis, may I ask?
Er, did I really just hit "send"?
Jim
Concerning all the thoughtful and sensible posts about "The Showdown At The O.K. Rialto":
Yeah. What you guys said. (Didn't Isak Dinesan say that the only proper response to good writing is silence?) I'll put my last two pfennigs in on the matter, and of it I will speak no more.
Rob, to put it as succinctly as *I* can, you blew it. By appending your apology with "You should have watched your drink", you almost guaranteed that there was going to be a scrap of some kind. Whether or not the guy was an oaf for not securing his drink, YOU were the one in motion. You chose to move down the aisle in the dark, so you needed to accept full responsibility when things went awry, with NO qualifiers. That's the burden of being an intelligent adult, unfortunately. I'd change it if I could, believe me.
Lest you think I'm enjoying this Rob-roast, let me add that I've been there and done that MANY times in my life. I hold no illusions that I'm some moral exemplar uplifting the unwashed masses. ANYTHING I've written is purely in the spirit of comradeship and constructive criticism, and I hope you take it that way without getting defensive, Rob. It's just that I expect better of you, that's all.
By the way, I think there is NOTHING wrong with stepping out to avoid the ear-splitting barrage of previews that are often inimical to the mood of the main presentation. I've got no problem with others doing it with a modicum of grace and consideration. Of course, I think patrons should be stapled to their seats for the main attraction itself, but that's just me.
You know, I'm wondering, Rob: Did my little rave of THE OTHERS convince you to see it? The only reason I ask is that I'm afraid of what will happen when you go to look for NIGHTMARE ALLEY--I have a vision of SWAT teams taking positions outside some dingy used bookstore, as bloodied and dazed customers stagger out to collapse in heaps on the sidewalk. Er, did I mention that NIGHTMARE ALLEY is really a crappy book? (I'M JUST JOKING, MAN! LIGHTEN UP, NOW!)
Chris L: Have you ever read Joyce's DUBLINERS? This collection of short stories is written in very clear, direct language, and could almost be called "The Joyce Book For People Who Don't Like Joyce". I love it, and I think you should give it a shot.
Harlan: Orson. (sigh) I'll write on this another time; it's late, and I need to walk my dogs. Let's just say that it's very, very hard to have heroes these days.
Jim
Rich: Well, I wouldn't consider Memento (opened in March) or Shrek (opened in May) to be proper summer movies-- but I shall take Sexy Beast into consideration. Sounds interesting.
Still, if you've got five bucks and it's matinee time, Fast and the Furious is worth it. HONEST! But the thing is, I often enjoy loud, big-budget films if they're executed well and entertain without problems. It's just that this summer, offhand I remember seeing AI, Final Fantasy, Planet of the Apes... everything is just rotten, or at best, mediocre. Of course, I can always go down to the multiplex and see Scary Movie 2, or Dr. Doolittle 2, or this week's top-grossing films, American Pie 2 and Rush Hour 2.
Seriously, prior to Loud Car Movie, the last movie I remember seeing in a theatre and really ENJOYING is Snatch. And that was in frigging January!
Er, actually, wait-- The Dish was good, too. But really, not a whole lot else.
Every so often, I get the urge to buy a car. And thanks to Harlan's story, my latest urge just DIED.
When I drove, I was just the opposite. If someone's being a prick on the road, I'd usually give him his head and let him scoot ahead of me. I'd keep a safe distance so, if he went spinning across the lanes, I'd have enough time to avoid him. I figure, "He wants to drive like Rommel over the desert, fine, and if he takes out a busload of kids, fine. Just keep _me_ away from it. My life's more valuable than his, anyway."
Maybe it's my Napoleon complex or maybe it's my innate reluctance to go along with the majority, but I must stand with Rob on this one. Don't get me wrong, the minute Rob turned away from the guy from the Air Farce the "conversation" was over. Anything past that point was Rob's doing no matter how righteous he may have felt regarding injustice, tax rebates, or Mrs. Bush showing off her gams with those just-above-the-knee skirts.
HOWEVER....I find the logic of those that disagree with Rob's reaction somewhat confusing. There are those that chastise him from getting up in the middle of the previews; apparently under the assumption that the new movie with the N'Sync soundtrack is really entertaining and those that deign to move during the previews are somehow diminishing the MOVIE that brought them to the theater (pronounced "thee-ATE-er" here in the south; trust me, it's hurts almost as much as soap on the end of the penis) in the first place. Listen to me, now: the trailer will be repeated on television, radio, and through the chip in most everyone's brain. Until the movie actually starts (and I mean the second it starts; I actually am one of the few people who read the credits and sometimes I'll dream that I see my name up there. But, then my wife reminds me I'm not talented so there goes that dream. Anyway...) I see no reason why people can't make a pre-emptive piss or get another box of Sno-Caps. Who among us hasn't sat through "A.I" needing to relieve the bladder, but fearing to do so in the hopes that the movie would find a coherent plot and story so that we wouldn't feel we've wasted our hard-earned $7.50? It's a fact of life: people will move around during the movie. Live with it. Unless it gets to the Bugs Bunny point (you remember the cartoon: Bugs is always moving through the row with Elmer right behind him. "Excuse me. Pardon me. Excuse me.")
Then, there are those that say Rob did a bad thing by knocking over Hitler's drink and he should've bought the guy another one. Fuck 'im. If he was that concerned about his drink, he would've held onto it the minute he saw someone coming through the aisle. Maybe, Rob should've done a Jackie Chan and tip-toed across the edge of the seat backs, but he may have a hammie injury and he could only walk like us mere mortals.
And lastly, (and if anyone's still with me, I'm surprised) I find the 20/20 reasoning a bit hypocritical. "Don't do it, Rob, but let me tell you about the time I..." goes only so far. Are we to learn from our mistakes? You betcha. Any fight you walk away from is a learning experience. We are animals and we are not always civilized. I'm not advocating punching someone's lights out when toes are accidentally stepped on, but a reasonable response to an unreasonable situation doesn't always work.
And, having said all that...Rob, harken back to those martial arts days of yore and remember that a fight--whether with fists or words--is not always the answer. Besides, you should've never turned your back on Sgt. Rock.
And by the way, "The Fast and the Furious" is not the answer to those summer blockbuster blues. Go see "Memento". Go see "Sexy Beast". Go see "Shrek".
And in closing: "I believe if a man is down, kick him. If he survives it, he has an opportunity to rise above it."----Brother Dave Gardner
Rob,
Consider this carefully:
Doesn't matter whether it was the show, the previews, the closing credits or the dead boring time before they've even lowered the lights. You were okay through "Oh shit I'm sorry." The moment you followed "I'm sorry" with the comment about how he should watch his drink when people are trying to get through, you stopped being polite and became one with the guy who cuts in front of you in traffic and then thinks you're out of line if you give him the horn.
--TR
On one hand, Rob WAS the one who decided to get up, but you have to be pretty spaced to fail to notice when someone's trying to get down the isle in a movie theater. Maybe Rob should've been more careful, but it's not his fault the guy wasn't paying attention; it may've been the meathead's right to hold or not hold his drink, but when he failed to at least put his hand on the damn thing when someone was trying to get by, he was courting disaster (if only because theater cupholders are good for keeping drinks from taking a dive due to gravity and not much else). It's sorta like going through an intersection while someone's running a red light: the other bastard broke the law and you didn't, but the fact you saw him and chose not to brake anyway means you're equally at fault (technically if not legally) for wrecking your car.
~Jeff
On the OTHER hand--which is balled into a fist through most of my waking hours--I only LOVE Alex's bus story. Raht awn, Big K.
Fortunately, Susan has seen me in enough of these contretemps during our almost-sixteen years together (come 7 September), that she only rarely puts me in Coventry as Alex's mizzus did. About a week ago, we were on our way to Len Wein and Chris Valada's barbeque, and there was a guy who was in something expensive&sporty, who just HAD to get in front of me. So I let him. Good enough. No prob. But then, not willing to leave well-enough alone--he was the one gave a shit about being in front of a 1989 Geo, not I--he purposely slowed down in my lane, running alongside the car in the left lane, for no greater purpose than to make sure I stayed behind him, did not pass him in the left (slower-moving) lane (which maneuver had not crossed my mind; I was in no special hurry, just bootin' along), and had ben taught a lesson by His Machoness. So I loped along behind, annoyed at his pettiness, until he got tired of moving that slowly, and he decked it, pulling way ahead. At which point, just like Alex, just like Rob, my dementia took over, and I said aloud (scaring Susan), "Okay, you wanna play fuckaround, you gobbet of hyena spittle? Then let us GET it ON!" And that little Geo, hardly meant to zazz the esses at Watkins Glen or the Nurburgring, went wholly bugfuck and caught up to the piss-ant in the expensive fireball-red convertible, and I swung it as far right as I could, making poor Susan's eyeballs bug considerably because, of course, if I'd made contact it would have been her side that would've been stove in, and the guy almost ran up on the burm. Then HE comes after me, and I pull up at the stoplight and I reach across and roll down Susan's window, and in my best demented fruit-bat voice, neck tendons throbbing, spittle flecking the windows, I scream at the sonofabitch, "YOU WANNA PLAY FUCKAROUND, YOU DEGENERATE ASSHOLE MOTHERFUCKER LABIA-LICKING COCKSUCKING PUTA PENDEJO SONOFABITCH KING TURD-BUCKET!!??!! LOOK AT WHAT KINDA SHIT CAR I GOT, AN' LOOK AT WHAT YOU'RE DRIVING? WHICH ONE OF US GOT MORE TO LOSE WHEN I RUN YOUR BAG'A'SHIT ASS OFF THE ROAD INTO A LIGHTPOLE?
COME ON, DOUCHE BAG, FUCK WITH ME, BRING IT ON, 'CAUSE I'M CRAZY AS A SHITHOUSE RAT AND I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF I KILL US ALL, AND THAT GOES FOR THE BITCH BESIDE YA!!!!!"
Now, i9n all sanity, how much of that he actually understood, even heard, screaming as he was...I have no idea.
Suffice to say, as I pulled out at the light, he sat to my right an instant, went left, turned and scooted West down Tampa as I lazily drifted straight ahead.
Susan was, of course, furious with me.
I didn't even argue with her when she softly but angrily pointed out that I was acting in an unwholesome, actively certifiable, sophomoric manner. She was, of course, absolutely correct.
The operative word, however, was "acting."
I was not, for an instant actually that crazed, that suicidal, that out of control that my exquisite sense of spatial relationships was impaired. I was, for my own pleasure, and the rush of adrenaline, playing chicken with that mook.
I would no more risk Susan's little toe than I would let, say, internet pirates upload my work without tracking them to the most distant, dusty corner of the world.
I am not a macho type, I do not feel my 67-year-old manhood threatened, I behave badly, and I do it--have done it all my life--with the tightrope firmly gripped in my toes. Yes, I work without a net, but I swear to you that I would never risk a hair on my honey's head. I was startled, however, that she was frightened. This time. She's never been frightened before, even
when I kicked in the side of that taxi in New York City.
I was running a scenario. I was in complete charge. Yes, yes, I can hear half a dozen of you saying, "My gawd, he sounds like an action junkie! In control, my ass! He scared that dear woman out of her wits! He THINKS he's in control, what hubris, what arrogance, what a moron! And on and on and on..."
Who knows, you might be right; I might be wrong; perhaps I couldn't be MORE wrong. But I understand EXACTLY where Rob and Alex are coming from; and though I am nuts about the rest of you who are properly chiding Rob (you've been an idiot, Rob)(see how easily I vacillate from one side to the other?) it is something bred in the bones and gristle, chums, to scream MOVE THE FUCKIN'BUS or to act like a muscleheaded imbecile in a minor dust-up like the spilt soda fracas, when the sane and sensible suggestion, "What're you drinking? I'll be back with one in
a minute," is definitely the rational, civilized way to go.
What amazes me, in truth, is that I ever lived past the age of 14.
Yrs. conflictedly, Horny B. Dilemma.
Chris (and all),
PLEASE read my post a little more carefully. This all happened before the show started. That's why I got up at this point. To get a drink BEFORE the show was to start. It was during the stupid previews.
This is the risk we run when we do long posts; except for Harlan's we're probably skimming each other's and missing salient points.
Rob,
I appreciate your point of view. And you are right that the guy was a bonehead for leaving his drink in the aisle.
But the way I would see it if I were sitting in that aisle is that you were the one who started off by getting out of your seat after the show already started. So right off the bat, you're already the one who is "causing trouble" and, IMHO, it is therefore imperative upon you to be considerate of everyone who you are inconveniencing simply because you didn't get your refreshments when you should have.
The guy was definitely a jarhead for pursuing you like that but I still think the blame falls on your shoulders. You didn't have to get up out of that seat and start muscling your way down the aisle. Because you were doing that, the spilled drink is your fault, IMHO. I would have felt guilty enough for getting in everyone's way in the first place that I would have apologized and offered to replace the drink even if I thought the guy was dumb for leaving it where he did. You were the one crossing his space. He was just sitting there trying to watch the show he'd paid his money for.
But I suppose we all have different concepts of what constitute sproper decorum. Many people who wouldn't talk during a movie still think it's appropriate to chat away during the previews. I think that's very rude. Other people don't think it's rude at all.
Have I told you all that I'm absolutely nuts about you? Well, without too much sticky bonding, consider it said.
Listen to them, Rob. They are right on the money. There are some valuable, plangent insights in those postings.
Do I contradict myself? Very well, I contradict myself. I am large. I contain multitudes.
This has been one of the more stimulating threads in some time. Thank you all for participating. Do go on. I'm listening and watching.
Lamont Cranston aka Kent Allard.
Re: the whole 'spilled drink in theatre' nonsense:
I don't get it. When I go into the movie theatre, I put the drink in the handy-dandy little drink holder on the arm of the seat I'm in. When there is no such handy-dandy drink holder, I keep the cup in my lap, saddled between my two legs.
Why, you ask? Because it's dark in the theatre, and someone might try to scoot by me and knock it over if I put it on the floor!
Or, to cite something that's happened to me repeatedly (and why I always hold the drink or keep it in my lap, no matter how chilled it is), I MIGHT KNOCK IT OVER MYSELF.
All that said, the guy wasn't being particularly unreasonable until he actually shoulder-checked our Rob. There's no excuse for that sort of thing.
However, if someone berated me for spilling their drink, my first response would have been "What are you drinking? Right then, sit tight-- I'll have another for you in a moment."
But that's just me. And I always, ALWAYS get my refreshments BEFORE I enter the theatre. In fact, I hate it when I arrive any sooner than about 20 minutes before the movie starts, because I want my 120 oz. soda, and I want my seat, and I want to be comfortably ensconced in time to enjoy each and every one of the trailers, plus the movie. That's what my $8.50 pays for, and I won't be robbed of a second of it!
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, movies. Isn't it a rotten summer for movies? I mean, the only movie I've seen so far that I've really LIKED is "The Fast and the Furious", and that's mostly because it failed to be utterly moronic and was only kind of silly, but still entertaining.
But I'm seeing "Brother" tomorrow. I expect that'll make things right again.
Rob, I'm afraid I have to chime in and say this sounds like a bunch of bullshit macho posturing. I'd rather err on the side of politeness than come home with a bruised fist. If you would have simply apologized, things would have most likely blown over and you could have enjoyed your movie in peace. I'm all for standing up for yourself but I truly believe, deep down in my soul, that by taking things so personally we wind up hurting ourselves much more than the other person. You sound like an intelligent, literate person; surely you can find better ways to handle conflict than this.
To those who believe I was in the wrong, I put forth my defense. I'll explain SUCCINCTLY why I disagree.
One, let me reverse the roles in a theater: the lights are down, A guy is slowly, DISCREETLY moving his way from the center seats to get by me. I may not see him for a moment, but I hear him say "excuse me". Right away I grab my drink and pull all the way in so he can get by. In the crowded dark theater I'M the only one who knows the drink is there. There's no WAY he can know it's there. He can SUSPECT something is there, but that's WHY he's moving slowwwly and saying "excuse me". I have never seen it happen any other way. I'M responsible for my drink because I know it's there. So, like everyone else, I have to move so the gent can get by.
Well, that's EXACTLY how I was doing it. I was trying to give each person time to move their legs over. What the hell else can I do? What the hell else does ANYONE do? I mean I went to movie theaters for years - this is the way it was always done. Never was there a problem.
Two, when I heard him grumbling about the spilled drink I really DID apologize. Then I simply added (and I was NOT being smart-assed or blunt, I was being matter-of-fact) that when people are trying to get through you simply have to guard your drink, as I always have and as friends I'm with always have.
Three, his answer to the point I was trying to make was stalking me all the way out and attempting to shove me. Apart from strength, which I have quite a bit of, I was ready to fall back on whatever martial arts I took as a teenager if need be (especially blocking systems). As far as I'm concerned, HE was going way over the top. I was trying to reason with him, until his redundancies got ME into the shouting too. And you know what? Had he been civil about it maybe I would've even reimbursed him. But someone handling it like THAT? No.
And, uh, "Xanadu", I do have principles but I didn't ever say I was necessarily pacifist. See if any of my posts state that. I try to reason first, I try to question MYSELF first, but when I have to I defend myself. Now, I probably did let a little too much primitive pride guide me after a point in last night's fun fest, but for the most part I think HE took the wrong end of the see-saw.
And for comments like I'll be getting into scrapes like this a lot. Well, I've been around for a LITTLE while - I'm in my thirties now - and I rarely get into conflicts. I'm polite and in discrepencies I usually try to consider first if I'M wrong. That's why I exercise a lot of self-control on the road, for example. But I believe, when you're in a pitch black movie theater and someone is trying to get through while you're sitting there you simply need to move along with your food items. Seems like common sense to me.
Well, I think "succinct" has a new definition now.
And Oscar Wilde's aphorisms were ALWAYS on the mark.
Just a longtime lurker piping in--
Since the subject is suspense/mystery writers, I have to chime in with a favorite of mine, but one who's sadly unknown in the United States-- Maurice Leblanc. His most famous character, Arsene Lupin, is practically a folk hero in France and fairly well-known in Europe, but there hasn't been any Leblanc mysteries in print in English since 1973. It's a terrible shame, partly because the translations of Leblanc's material that ARE available (I have a collection of old editions, mostly pre-1920-- yes, this guy's OLD school) are very poor indeed-- yes, I know the character's name in the French version is "Grognard", but please don't call him "Growler", okay?
If you scan eBay and/or your favorite local used bookstore, you JUST MIGHT stumble across a collection of Leblanc's stories-- and then, kids, you will discover JUST HOW ENTERTAINING a quick 15-page mystery can be. I promise.
ALSO: Wow, look! It's Harlan Ellison!
Ah, hell, most men have encounters of that sort eventually. It's built into our genes. If it were a woman, half the men I know would be sniggering and making comments about PMS. Well, we men do it, too, but we talk about losing our tempers, standing up for justice, whatever. Sometimes we're standing up for a righteous position, sometimes we're just in the wrong mood at the wrong time. Is there really any man here who has never had an encounter like that? Who has never felt the bloodlust sneaking up his spine over some piddly shit?
I could name half a dozen, but I'll settle for one. My wife and I were out for our third or fourth anniversary. We'd taken in a very expensive dinner at a local hotel, and were departing for Cleveland's miniscule theatre district, there to use our tickets in a timely manner.
As I departed the hotel, I found my car was blocked. A chartered tour bus had double-parked and blocked my car's access to the street. I walked back into the hotel, and called out, "Excuse me, can someone please move the bus? It's blocking parked cars."
Nobody replied. I went to the front desk and asked the desk clerk to page the bus driver. He said he couldn't do that. So I turned around and yelled, loudly (think of a large foghorn with an electric amp attached), "Hey, who double-parked the goddamn bus?"
This time, I got an answer. A big, bulky guy who looked maybe ten years my senior said, "That's my bus. I'll be moving it after I get my boys into their rooms." And then he pushed his luck. "And I don't appreciate hearing profanity."
I saw red, but I controled myself. "Sir, I don't have time to wait for you to get your boys into rooms. You are parked in a passing lane, and you're blocking my car. Please move it now."
"I'll move it when I'm good and ready," he said, turning away.
I lost it. "You'll move it now, or you'll hear a lot more than profanity. You'll hear fucking sirens. MOVE YOUR BUS!"
Well, now we were both behaving like idiots. He squared his shoulders and replied, "Young man, I will not put up with that! One more word from you, and I'll knock your teeth in!"
I turned to the desk clerk and yelled, "YOU! You are a witness to assault! Call the police right now! And YOU," I shouted at the bus driver, "come and get it, asshole!"
I swear, I'd have gone toe-to-toe with this clown over a pair of tickets to a show I didn't really want to see. He'd have probably wiped the floor with me, too. I didn't care. I was ready to piss blood.
But I didn't have to. The bus driver quailed. "Wait a minute, what do you mean assault, I haven't touched you!"
"The threat is assault, asshole!" I screamed, "move your bus!"
He moved his bus. My wife was so angry, she refused to go to the theatre. I was boiling mad for the rest of the night, so that was no loss. She forgave me after a couple weeks.
So, Rob: you over-reacted, and, hey, I've been there too.
--Alex
Wow.
That's all I can say.
Rob's churlish behaviour and Harlan's support of it.
Wow.
Point one - Rob, you were wrong - at every level and in every way. Morally (though you would dismiss that), ethically, legally and in just general human decency. The guy in motion is always at fault. Period. Whether you could see the drink or not - the guy sitting, minding his own business, gets the benefit of the doubt. (I ask anyone to give me a precedent for the opposite)
Now, in as quiet and non-threatening a fashion as this can be stated - who wants to bet that Rob's reaction to the initial complaint was not as nearly as apologetic in tone or wording as he suggested here? (This is simply an observation of tatics employed in discussions on this board - Rob, you have never, in my observation, ever entered a discussion at anything less than full burn - usually full of spit and vinegar.) That's point two.
Three - you argued in the theater - now you've disrupted the entire group of people. (Though the other guy gets an equal whack for that one.)
Four - This is where it gets dicey - even if you had been correct, completely and utterly correct in your position and behaviour - when you turned and walked back into the guy's face after you had left him - YOU were now the aggressor. If he had taken you out at that point - he would have had the legal high ground.
But you weren't right to begin with.
I don't need pocket psychoanalysis to see that you're an angry man, Rob. You're agressive, intellectually, emotionally and physically. You're an interesting paradox - you claim pacifist ideals, and you consistently fail to live up to them. A good guy would have apologized and offered to replace the drink. YOU got into a fight, then came here looking for approval. And, despite anything any of the rest of us might say regarding this, you got it from the man himself...
Wow.
Or you could always just buy the darn soda and snacks BEFORE the show starts and before sitting down so you don't have to interrupt everyone who is trying to watch the show - and, yes, the previews are part of the show. You may not have interest in them but that doesn't mean other people don't. To me, that's that's the rudest part. Spilling the drink is an honest accident but, geez, once the show starts, just stay in your darn seat unless you gotta piss so bad your back teeth are floating.
Rob,
You may never have had an experience like this before, but from the sound of your account you can probably count on having more of them. You owed the guy another drink and an absolute minimum of mouth no matter what you thought of his failure to keep his drink out of your way -- he didn't knock his own drink over.
You'll be at the movies again, and you'll get up during the previews again (leaving the room being the most rational response to most of the previews these days), and there's always somebody who'll think it's more incumbent on you to watch your step than it is on him to keep his stuff out of your way. And the next guy may in fact have the knife in his pocket.
So move slowly and VERY courteously in the dark. You'll have fewer ruined evenings and maybe a longer life.
--- TR
I gotta fault Rob here, just a little, but one question nags at me.
I can imagine stepping down a movie aisle, bumping people's knees, reciting the usual excuse-me's... but I can't imagine knocking someone's entire drink over, in such a confined and awkward space, without my _noticing_. I'd hear the ice slosh around, the splat of the soda on the floor, and probably feel the drink's owner shift quickly to avoid getting a huge spill on his-her trousers.
But in Rob's account, the only knowledge he had that he'd knocked a drink over was the guy's say-so. Rob, are you sure the guy wasn't just yanking your chain to begin with?
But, on the chance that a drink _was_ spilled... well, I probably wouldn't have told the guy right-off that his way of holding the drink was wrong, and thus blaming him. I don't like it when people get past me during previews, and if the person going by did knock over my drink, I'd want that person to accept some responsibility. If I'd been in your situation, I probably would have apologized profusely, and offered to replace the drink.
Rob: I don't wanna sound like I'm dumping on you--you seem to be a generally smart and decent fella, and I wasn't there to personally witness the incident in the theatre. You had every right to take a stroll during the previews, and it was ultimately the aryan's responsibility to maintain his drink in the upright position at all times (unless you were careening like my Grandpa Hank after a bender). Nonetheless...
Is is possible that if you had said, "Hey man, I'm sorry. It's hard to see in here. I'll buy you a new soda while I'm out, ok?", that the whole mess could have been avoided? I realize that the guy might have gone ballistic anyway, but MAYBE he would have just shrugged the whole thing off. In HIS eyes, you may have displayed an immense clumsiness and/or lack of consideration on your part.
But, again, I wasn't there, so I can't say I have all the facts.
Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play?
The superior attitude that is shown by some people here disturbs me.
Rob, I wonder what would have happened if you had been sitting in the theater and this "primate" of a man stumbled past you and spilled your drink. Would you have been upset? Would you have been more upset when he reprimanded you for putting it in his way (as you did to him)? Would you have argued it with him? I'll bet you would.
In fact, the situation would have ended up very similar. Why? Because you and the "goon" are very similar. You both have superior attitudes and are looking to show off.
You saw a stocky man with blonde hair and blue eyes sporting a crew cut who got angry when someone accidently spilled his drink. From his point of view, you were not paying attention. You then reprimanded HIM for it.
Because of how he looked and sounded, he is now a "mindless, imbecilic, course, vegetated, brainless primate" in your eyes.
I'll bet to him you looked like an arrogant, self-righteous, uppity prick who wasn't paying attention and couldn't admit to being wrong.
But then...It's all a matter of perspective.
Thank goodness for that magnificent 20/20 hindsight. Because later, we look back and say things like "it's the drink holder's responsibility for the placement of the drink."
Bullshit. It was an accident and both of you - yes BOTH of you -acted like primates. Blaming it on the "Aryan youth" may help you sleep at night, but it won't stop the same thing from happening again.
Rob,
I think I might be missing part of the story.
After the theater is seated and the lights are out, you get up and you knock over someone's drink and you get mad because you think it's his fault?
I'm definitely not following you because it seems like you owe the guy a drink here. He's not the one who got up in the middle of previews, after all.
Rob, baby:
Y'did just fine.
Granted, in this era of Glocks and Crips, even a sidewise diss of minimal extrusion can net you a lifetime's remainder in casket or wheelchair; but I have been there where you were, not
even that long ago (ask Joe Straczynski to relate the four of us, Susan and Kathryn, Joe and I, and our adventure at the Universal Multiplex screening of SCHINDLER'S LIST), and as long as the jerkazoid didn't whip out a grav-shank and gut you, y'done just fine. Let your knees shake, run it through the mnemosyne circuit for a week or so, build up the story properly, claim the Gunfight at OK Corral rights, and go back to see the movie another day. The only thing better than this (admittedly juvenile, pithecanthropoid behavior all around) would be the actual creaming of the bully in front of your sweetie and a hundred interested bystanders, who would throw popcorn in lieu of confetti when the cops came to drag him (or her) away.
Yes, all the rest of you, I KNOW I'm condoning a violent (or potentially violent) solution to a minor social interfacing, but what the hell did you expect from me . . . reasoned response? Shit it all, folks, I been street brawling since I was in grade school. I am, as I keep telling you and telling you and telling you:
A really bad role model.
(Y'done swell, Rob.)
As Oscar Wilde once put it, "Pity the meek, for they shall inherit the Earth."
Mildly, Casper P. Milquetoast von Ellison, Registered Pacifist.
Yo MOMMA!
It was like something out of Harlan’s accounts.
Last night I make an effort to see ‘The Others’ - to absorb the atmosphere and meditate on it. While the lame previews went on I decided, "What th’hell...I gonna grab me sum soder pop!" I lift my innocent, humble ass from the center aisle seat and proceed to trip and stumble in the dark as we always do trying to brush by people in the row, repeating strings of "excuse me" with the customary veneer of courtesy. It’s a tight squeeze but I finally complete the first phase of my journey. I am ready to march proudly up the aisle.
But before I can proceed I hear this guy grunt, "you just spilled my entire drink." My response is contrite but frank: "oh, shit, I’m sorry. You have to watch your drink when people are trying to get through." The next few seconds fill the theater with, "Hey! Hey! You don’t smart mouth me! You knocked over my drink!" I moved on repeating, "I didn’t SEE it. You’re the only one who knows where it is in the dark! What do ya want from me? I didn’t SEE it!"
He stalks me all the way out to the lobby. Once we’re through the exit doors he rams me shoulder to shoulder, repeating his snorts. He’s about four inches taller than I am with a blond Aryan crew cut and the bearing of a howitzer, but I flex my shoulder and drive him back into the adjacent wall, anyway. I’ll be damned if I’m going to back away from this goon. Upon that, he’s in my face with his redundant barks and his index finger, determined to talk me down. Over and over, I try futilely to reason with him because the situation is so obvious: "When you’re in the dark you’re the only one who knows where the drink is; it’s YOUR responsibility!" His wholesale stupidity and bovine denseness AND the unfairness of this are pissing me off far more than the effrontery itself. I am looking at a lab sample from inbred rabble; I mean this is stupidity in a petri dish. But finally all I can think is, "do I really want this WHOLE evening ruined?" It’s clear this guy just isn’t going to listen and I'll be here all night. I huffed in exasperation and walked on to the concession. He continues uttering bullshit. I stop dead in my tracks and spin around. The whole damn lobby is empty because it’s the late 10pm show...it's just him and me. With almost 50 feet between us it suddenly feels like the arena scene in ‘The Good, The Bad and the Ugly’. I can’t ‘splain, but I suddenly see blood. The primitive instinct we inherited from our early ancestors override my reasoning; all civility subdued now, I want to conquer and kill - to wipe this organism from the earth, this thing that never deserved the chemical reactions of life to begin with (we have TOO many of those). I walk back to him with a quick pace, probably looking as aggressive as I ever did, ready to do anything I have to whatever the cost. Any move he makes I will reciprocate. I get in his face the way he did with me: "You’re a moron and I’m gonna tell you this one more time..." Predictably, he continues talking when I’m talking. I pause shaking my head, and he says, "I’m 42 and I’m in the air force." I gaze at him with an incensed and astonished expression. Shaking my head I throw my hands up and move on. He finally vanishes into the theater, like a primate retreating to his grotto. Much later on the way home it occurs to me, "we have low IQs like THIS in the air force? No wonder Bush was elected."
For the most part it ruined my evening. I never HAD an experience like this. I don’t like injustice. It gets to me in a bad way. I could only take in portions of the movie. I’ll have to see it again to form a fair opinion about it. And some of you already know how fixated I can get. It was tough fanning the emotions out of my system while sitting there for the next two hours (some people worry about flatulence; I worry about stabs of emotion). There was one possible redemption: just after the movie had started I think I saw him going by again to exit the theater; about 10 seconds later the girl I think he was with followed; never saw’em come back. If it WAS them and there is ANY justice in the world, she gave him some shit for being a moron. He may have objected and said, "ok, I’m leaving"; and that was her pitter patter following him out.
Sigh. I’m tellin’ ya folks: they hide behind corners, they hide under the seats, they hide under the rocks; there’s always a mindless, imbecilic, course, vegetated, brainless primate waiting there just for YOU. Be on the alert.
That wraps it for couch therapy for a Sunday afternoon. Anyone with some terse saying embodying a general truth, the voice box is open!
Thanks for the reply, Harlan. From what I can gather, based solely on reading a few biographies of the man (namely, Brady's and Leaming's), Welles was prone to much of what you're reporting from the table of Roddy McDowall. (Who, based on whatever sources I've read that mention him, was about as decent a person one could ever hope to meet).
Main example I can think of was the legend that "Rosebud" was Hearst's pet name for Marion Davies' pudenda. Hard to verify that story, for obvious reasons, and Welles didn't help matters by telling the story as fact after a few years.
And there is a _lot_ of shoddy research in show-business histories; from what I can tell, a lot of writers like to rely on stories they "know" to be true. (Even the good ones are prone to mistakes. One of the best show-business biographies I've ever read was Philip Norman's _Shout!_, about the Beatles. Wonderfully written, with a keen eye towards character, but apparently full of factual errors.) So one account might say that Welles wrote that Harry Lime speech, and another might say that he'd cribbed it from an old play, and a third might report that it was in the original script, but rumors of Welles's authorship circulated and Welles started telling it as truth in later years... Hell, we're both probably wrong, but we'd never really _know_.
(BTW, sorry to hear you won't be at Worldcon this year. First time the Worldcon's in my hometown, which is nice, even though the only SF I've been reading these days has been Bruce Sterling and Neil Stephenson. But have a good time down South.)
Brian Siano:
Fret not that your first baby-steps here in Webderland seem to contradict something I wrote. When people come up to me at lectures or signings and "try to have it both ways" by saying, "I don't agree with most of what you have to say, but I like your style," or somesuch, I almost always respond, "Hell, fellah, >I< don't even agree with most of what I have to say."
I won't assert my Graham Greene-over-Orson Welles belief, not here, not now, and not because it's probably 65-35 that you're correct and I'm wrong, but because my sources for "the accuracy of the truth of it" are older, more primal to the source, and unavailable to me for satisfactory verification. I know that the Accepted Wisdom these days is that Welles interjected the speech, but I am convinced (let me reiterate IT IS ONLY I WHO IS CONVINCED, at least among those opining here) that it was an aphorism whose origin predates the film, the book, the screenplay by decades, and that it was Greene who imparted it first to Welles, who later took credit--as he did for a great many things that were, um, ahem, otherwise attributable.
One night, some short while ago before he died, our friend Roddy McDowall invited Susan and me to one of his fabulous dinners, tenanted by the usual fifteen-or-so variegated invitees who, in each of his or her specialty, was nonpareil and unique.
On this occasion, I sat next to the magnificent actress Jeanette
Nolan (she was the long-time wife of Wagonmaster John McIntire, a star in her own right with hundreds of film & tv credits, and mother of Tim McIntire, who not only played Alan Freed in the movie AMERICAN HOT WAX, but was the voice of Blood in A BOY AND HIS DOG). For those who may not remember, Ms. Nolan and Roddy co-starred with Orson Welles in his 1948 b&w film of MACBETH, which Welles also directed.
When the conversation was not among the participants of the dinner gestalt en toto, I was close enough and leaned in closer enough to overhear the extended--and I mean e x t e n d e d -- interchange between Roddy and Ms. Nolan on the subject of Orson the Great. Both of them had known him, and worked with him on stage, in little theater, in film, and on radio, as well as personally, for decades. Understand: I rather revere Welles for CITIZEN KANE and, the more, for THE MAGNIFICENT AMBERSONS, not to mention his Harry Lime portrayal (and yes, the first thing I said to Susan on the morning I heard the radio news of the druggist who had been denaturing the chemotherapy prescriptions was, "ohmigawd, Harry Lime DIDN'T die in the sewers under Vienna), but there was no mistaking the tone and content and lasting memory of Welles in the minds of the gentle, soft-spoken Jeanette Nolan, and the courteous, ultra-civilized (however occasionally waspish) Roddy McDowall. They despised him.
I don't think I'm entering the wrong word. Dislike? No, much stronger. Loathed? No, too over-the-top. Porridge not too hot, porridge not too cool, but porridge just-right: despised.
And in the course of that long duologue, the congeries of assumed credits, purloined attributes, stolen ideas, "borrowed" innovations, misappropriated accolades and phony claims they enumerated so battered my adoration of Welles, that I have not stopped reeling from it yet, and that was at least four, five years ago. Susan was there, and she heard the parts of it that were loud enough to traverse the width of the large dinner table. I heard it all.
Your sources all tell you it was Welles who created that brilliant aphorism spoken by Harry Lime at the base of the ferris wheel. They may be correct. You may be right. I could well be wrong. Perhaps I AM wrong. Yes, I'll subscribe to it: I am probably absolutely misinformed and wrong. Don't worry that you disagree with me, Brian. My troops have stood down.
Nonetheless, I cling to my view of the correct attribution. Even though I acknowledge that Lynn and Brian probably have the better position in a court of law, or a court of popular opinion.
Respectfully, Harlan Ellison.
Kevin~ What're friends for, eh? Big hugs of the supportive kind, having lost too many people dear to me in the last two years. I think the consensus was, toadburgers - no, toad fries - ok if you must.
Kind thoughts,
L.
Susan; Yes, I still want my copy of Sleepless Nights. Funds are en route.
It's been a long three weeks, I've been on a roller coaster funeral tour. Two friends this month, one was a writer. A nice fellow by the name of Lou Huston. Those of you who are TV fans might remember him. He wrote many of the better episodes of your favorite "rube" shows (Beverly Hillbillies, Green Acres, Petticoat Junction)and was the creator of the character "Arnold Ziffel"(y'know, the pig on Green Acres). Above all he was a swell guy who took "funny" seriously and didn't stop working up until the last.
Reading the last few weeks of posting has not only boosted my spirits, but also made me very hungry. Almost hungry enough to eat a McDonald's toadburger.
Thanks gang,for cheering me up. You guys are great.
Regards,
Kevin
Rob, Chris - thanks for the comments. There wasn't anything to do with blood type, I believe the theory had to do with your build / physique. In any case, I wasn't trying to push a point, sorry if it came across as such.
Geez, the first substantive comment I can add, and it's one in which I have to argue with Harlan. (I have a real talent for endearing entrances.)
Lynn attributed that classic line from _The Third Man_-- the wonderfully nasty comparative estimate of the contributions of the evil Borgias and the peace-loving Swiss-- to Orson Welles. Harlan corrected Lynn, saying that credit for that speech should go the screenwriter, Graham Greene.
I'm afraid Lynn really was a little more right on this point. Frank Brady, in his biography _Citizen Welles_, quotes Carol Reed as saying that that particular line was Welles's addition. However, Brady adds, Welles also claimed that he'd cribbed the line from "an old Hungarian play."
(And when I heard the recent news about that physician who was giving his patients diluted chemotherapy solutions, _BANG_, suddenly I was hearing zither music, and wondering if that doc had made the same ten-thousand-dollars-a-dot deal that Harry Lime described. Yeesh.)
Tony,
Well...each to his own. You’re entitled to your opinion, it’s what you get out of it that counts, my taste is no better than the next guy’s; I am humble, civil, courteous and self-effacing in my views. I got THAT out of the way, my ass is covered.
Having said that...as good a writer as William Goldman could be, you are out of your @#$%!!!!*+-^!?/"*###!!:**!;+`>*&!! mind for even attempting a comparison between him and Salinger. I couldn’t stop re-reading ‘Catcher in the Rye’ and I STILL haven’t had enough of it. AAAARRRRRGGH!
I need to borrow Harlan's cold compress.
H.L. Mencken - "The average man doesn't want to be free. He wants to be safe."
The writer I always felt beat out Salinger at the troubled adolescent game was William Goldman. I can still go back to Goldman's THE TEMPLE OF GOLD with pleasure, but doubt I'll ever pick up CATCHER again.
Damn shame WG seems to have given up novel writing completely.
-- TR
Harlan, thanks for the reply. Your post encapsulates many of my own feelings. I've noticed most people have the hardest time accepting responsibility for their feelings. The notion that their inner rage and discontent lies within and not outside themselves is a pretty radical notion for many folks.
Books and movies (or, Films, depending on the elitists):
JIMMY CORRIGAN is indeed the SMARTEST KID ON EARTH. It's been awhile since I've read comic books and/or graphic novels (not through any snobbery, but because I couldn't afford to keep up with all the different universes and storylines that necessitated buying titles I wouldn't normally buy) and picked up CORRIGAN based on a friend's recommendation. I pass on that recommendation.
Just finished watching THE TRAIN on DVD. Burt Lancaster's just poured into that engineer's outfit. And he was 51. (Confession: I first heard about THE TRAIN when I checked out HARLAN ELLISON'S WATCHING from the library a few years ago.) Rented it, watched it, and think it's great. And now I own it and will be listening to what Frankenheimer has to say concerning the movie.
Paul Scofield's--the protagonist--last words to Lancaster--the antagonist--"Right this minute, right now, you couldn't tell me why you did what you did.") nail it and says more about art and people than any bestseller list or blockbuster. Right this minute, right now, you couldn't tell me why you read THE CLIENT. (And apologies to Mr. Ellison if I've "remembered" something he may have already said concerning THE TRAIN in WATCHING as I don't have the book).
"You'll like me, I tend to grow on people."
"So do warts."
----Curly to an unidentified woman.
Re: Mediocrity.
"Survival is the slowest form of suicide." ~Unknown
Is it enough to know your life is featureless and mundane, to be aware that there are colors outside of beige and flavors outside of vanilla? Is it enough to be able to turn off the television and seek out a conversation? Is it enough to recognize that the keyboard is making you bleed?
Perhaps.
Perhaps not.
And I quote, "...you are one *tough* grader."
L.
Well, I seem to be all alone with my opinion of Moby Dick.
I read JJ's "The Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man" and enjoyed it a great deal. I thought for awhile that it should replace "Catcher in the Rye" as the adolescent-troubles book normally read by teens. I liked CitR, despite Holden being a bit too whiny. I guess more youngins identify with him instead of Stephen Daedelus.
I don't plan on reading Finnegans Wake until I'm at least in my 50s. I'm sure it'd go way over my head if I read it now (as opposed to, hopefully, going only slightly over my head when I read it in the future). "It took me seventeen years to write it, it should take you seventeen years to read it."
Since we're talking of books: I'm a huge fan of Dostoevsky. If I was to compile a list of favorite novels, The Brothers Karamazov would probably be #1, with Crime and Punishment close behind. I enjoy Tolstoy's work, especially Anna Karenina (while I merely liked War and Peace). The Russian novelists seem more interested on characterization than other nationalities, although I've yet to read Golgo, Checkov and other Russians to really be sure about that.
I was talking to someone about translations awhile ago. There is no such thing as a perfect translation, so I wonder how accurately the translations I've read of Russian novelists (and German philosophers, for that matter) really are. If I chose a different translation of Anna Karenina, how closely would it resemble the the first one I read? I remember reading two translations of Faust: one was very dry, the other humorous. You could say the second one was the better translation, but what if Faust really was dry and lacked humor, and I ended up preferring an inaccurate translation over an acurate one? I suppose I should just learn the languages one day, and read them in their original tongue. Would anyone have any suggestions for good translations of the aforementioned writers?
I sometimes wonder how well Faulkner's work translates into other languages. Reading Faulkner is a humbling experience (incidentally, "Light in August" would get my vote as best American novel). I always have a dictionary ready when I read him.
Yeah, all this talk is definitely in the "frippery" category. But talking about books is almost as much fun as reading them.
Lorin:
"Motherless Brooklyn" is a great read. If I'm not mistaken, it won the National Book Award. If you don't know already, he has actually written a lot of science ficiton. Check out "Gun, With Occasional Music," and "As She Climbed Across The Table."
Bob
http://www.bobsassone.com
Harlan:
I'm not sure if his name has been mentioned on here or not, but: C.M. Kornbluth. I just picked up his collection "His Share of Glory." Wow, many of these stories just knocked me for a loop! Another guy dead much too soon (35), like Beaumont. I was wondering of your impression of him. I have read a couple of accounts, one by Pohl in the intro to this book, and one by Asimov in his autobiography. Both seemed to say he was a complex, difficult man, though Pohl seems to have gotten along with him much better than Asimov did. I was wondering about your take (and I apologize in advance if this board is not the place for such quick summaries on a person's life - I realize it's probably a stupid question, but his stories have begun to fascinate me so I wanted a little background).
Yours,
Bob
I used to understand the word "succinctness"; now I just don't know.
Re: Joyce. I liked him because he was challenging the anal, dictatorial rigid-mindedness of his own Catholic roots. On the other hand, I had a similar experience as just candidly imparted with Conrad. I went through hell trying to get through just the first chapter of 'Heart of Darkness' (and a GREAT story) because he would hang his prose on long frivolous, trifling descriptives of things like the suns rays glistening on the water, the golden hues of the sky and every color of the spectrum he could imagine describing. And that was before the boat would so much as move away form the dock. The book dropped. I may give him another try sometime, but I found that first trial tedious. I wanted him to move the hell on.
Jim,
I not only need to read Nightmare Alley, but would like to see the film Tyrone Power did in the 40's. He was highly praised in his role as the geek and it was probably his most important movie.
Well, gosh, "Moby Dick." Melville's book is the one that taught me there's little point in debating whether a book should be a classic. I liked it from the first reading (in college), and like it still. But those who get it--get it. Those who don't, won't. That's life. For those who do get it, let me recommend the Arion Press edition, with lovely illustrations by Barry Moser. It was republished with loving care by California University Press, and I still see it in second-hand shops.
(Moser came through this area on a signing tour about ten years ago. I took advantage of his visit to beg autographs for copies of his "Frankenstein," "Alice in Wonderland" and "Moby Dick." Those who haven't sampled his work should do so. It's a treat.)
By coincidence, I got back from my endless vacation to be greated by the usual enormous pile of new books, and one that spilled out and caught my eye was Will Eisner's new adaptation of, a cookie to the first person to guess, yes, "Moby Dick." I don't recommend this as a substitute for the original, Lord knows, but if you've a child who hasn't yet been spoiled by endless cartoon references and the like, it's not a bad introduction. Eisner's art is quite good (as always), and he evokes some of the mystical feel of the story. The book will be out from NBM in October.
--Alex
Harlan,
My thanks and full acknowledgement on Spillane. At least I understand the deal now with better certainty when no reply comes to a query. I don't wanna henpeck you about names when I don't need to.
Peg,
You're right, everyone's metabolic needs are different. For me a high protein diet was advised, staying low on the carbs. I have sensitive blood-sugar levels and I also take a medication to prevent seizures (in low dosage, fortunately) so my regimen is set to accomodate that along with physical work-outs and playing ball. I used to think I was hypoglycemic because I often felt lethargic and very prone to serious headaches (since I was a kid). But, unless hypoglycemia can exist in different degrees, there seems to be less evidence of it. I don't need to eat throughout the day. But I do get VERY tired if I eat a lot at any given time.
So, I eat low-cal meals throughout the day. Full low-cal diets - rather than, say, starving yourself throughout the day - is the intake strategy advised for longer lifespans, keeping weight down and reducing deseases. My usual daily intake is soy beans, potatoes and spinach. Carrots and celery I often throw in weekly as well. Since I hate cooking I keep it pretty simple. Milk: my system seems to crave it. I go one day without out it and I feel like I'm waning. But I drink small amounts at any one time. I eat 2-3 apples a day invariably and a couple of bananas every 2 days. I used to drink tons of fruit juice (and I don't mean the sugar waters) but recently learned from nutrionists that the vitamin intake is not nearly as effective as eating. I've eliminated buying fruit juices almost entirely in lieu of EATING fruit. I used to take vitamin supplements but have learned that research shows little, if any, effectiveness from them as opposed to using the foods for adequate vitamin intake. I do try to make certain I get vitamin B-complex for synergistic enzyme response, and vitamin B2 and pantothenic acid. I drink more water throughout the day and I even squeeze lemons into it.
I don't eat meat much and I cut down on sucrose CONSIDERABLY. But, like anyone, I go on occasional junk food sprees and indulge. However, I do keep that under control. Generally I go more for Chinese or Tai places than Burger King joints (the latter more often makes me nauseous since my regimen became healthier); only once in a while I go for a burger (talk of mad cow disease, even though it hasn't entered the U.S., helped me reduce burgers even more; which I'm GLAD of). But if I eat too much of that stuff, WHEREVER it is, I feel really, really bad. My yens, more often, lean more toward things like pretzels or ice cream or sometimes Kosher dogs or the occasional good restaurant on weekends (some people lean toward spicy flavors, btw; I lean more toward the sweet). But I like to minimize it all, so a trick I play on myself when I do have the yen is eating too much of it at one time so that I just can't STAND it anymore (like watching too much tv or talking on the phone for too long). It's usually a looooooong time before I touch the shit again.
Coffee I probably drink too much of. I don't show a lot of discipline on that front.
I'll really be glad when the genome technology expands so that we can pinpoint our genetic maps and understand our individual conditions and needs better.
There's no easier position to take on a Harlan Ellison bulletin board than to say "I agree with Harlan." But, hell, I agree with Harlan about Moby Dick. It was great. It was a fun book. It was a fascinating book. It's one of the better novels I have ever read.
Someone mentioned Mark Twain's comment about classics. The exact definition Twain gave is "Classic. A book which everyone praises but doesn't read."
That's true for a lot of books. It might mark me a dreadful churl but I don't like James Joyce. Not one bit. That doesn't mean I'm going to say anything as obnoxious as "James Joyce sucks" because there's a good reason he is well respected by critics. But _Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man_ is one of the most painful and dull books I've ever been forced to read. And I could only get part way into Ulysess before giving up.
Similarly, I'd be lying if I claimed to love Middlemarch (of course, anyone who claims to love Middlemarch is lying) or Don Juan.
However, I loved Moby Dick. And I don't just love Gulliver's Travels - I worship it. But then again Jonathan Swift was just some kind of mutant freak genius on the order of a Francis Bacon or a Mark Twain.
As to Harlan's point on literature and the choices people make in their reading, I will only offer this quote:
"Life being very short, and the quiet hours of it few, we ought to waste none of them in reading useless books." - John Ruskin, _Sesame and Lilies_
Harlan wrote: "I see all, read all, know all."
I KNEW IT. Harlan owns Borges' Aleph! That rat bastard!
JUDGMENT IN STONE is a terrific read, and if I had to pick a single book to recommend to someone wanting to start with Rendell, that'd be the one. Never could get into her Wexford stories, but the non-series stuff was always wonderfully grim.
Anyone looking for NIGHTMARE ALLEY could do a lot worse than to lay down big $$$ for the Library of America volume -- if memory serves, it also included McCoy's THEY SHOOT HORSES, DON'T THEY? and Woolrich's I MARRIED A DEAD MAN, Cain's POSTMAN (I think), and others. I may be mixing up the contents of the two volumes here, but that's a nice pair of books.
-- TR
Tony, my man! I didn't see your post before I sent mine into the void, but I'm glad you were moved to write about Rendall's wonderful book...
Harlan/Rob/All:
Yes, NIGHTMARE ALLEY is a helluva book--fast-paced, murderously insightful, and as bleak as anything by Beckett. I envy your first reading of it, Rob. It's contained in one of the two Library of America volumes on Noir literature, but is otherwise out-of-print. You should be able to find a used paperback, howevever.
The film of EDDIE COYLE had its moments, but it pales in comparison to the other noir/crime movies of the '70s. As for the book, well, let's just note that Elmore Leonard, when pressed for a list of HIS favorite mystery novels, supplied only one title. Guess what it was?
I would be remiss if I didn't mention that Ruth Rendall's A JUDGEMENT IN STONE has one of the absolute KILLER first sentences in the history of the novel: "Eunice Parchman killed the Coverdale family because she could not read or write." AND one of the greatest closing ones: "Dust, Ashes, Waste, Want, Ruin, Despair, Madness, Death, Cunning, Folly, Words, Wigs, Rags, Sheepskin, Plunder, Precedent, Jargon, Gammon, and Spinach." The stuff in between is pretty damned fine, too.
I'm not the greatest expert on mystery/noir/suspense/detective fiction, but that's alright; I LIKE the idea that there are still literary countries left for me to explore. I think the worst thing is to get hung up on questions of "Am I well-read or not?" (You listening, Peg?) There is always SOMEONE who is better-read than you, so fretting or getting competitive about it is just futile. Read for enjoyment's sake, and a genuine love of knowledge, and you will NEVER go wrong. Read to impress preening literateurs at the next cocktail soiree, and therein madness lies.
As for listing titles, as long as it's done to turn people on to great literature, I'm all for it. (I gotta tell ya, the fact that SOMEONE out there will read NIGHTMARE ALLEY for the first time as a result of seeing the testimonials here makes me giddy.) It's when lists are used as axes to be driven through the foreheads of others that I get a little turned off. Lest someone get paranoid, NO, I'm not talking about anyone in particular on this board, ok? This is more cautionary in tone than anything else, so don't get all bent out of shape, people.
I mean, you KNOW you guys are the wind beneath my wings, right?
Yes, Jay, Neil and I are planning to complete "Shoot Day for Night" at the MadCon.
Harlan
John Thompson:
Here is my succinct--and I believe to the bottom of my soul, dead-on--explanation of why people read styleless writers such as Mary Higgins Clark, John Grisham, Tom Clancy, and the plethora trailing behind them like scraps of old soiled linen on a kite's tail.
We live in a time the basic component of which, it seems to me, is DON'T MAKE WAVES. DON'T BE NOTICED. DO YOUR JOB, AND KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN. This philsophy, pandemic in our society for all but the most suicidially individual of us, promotes mediocrity. Promotes nothing else BUT mediocrity.
Blands out what we see in the popular arts, turns the ideal home-living situation into the decorative equivalent of a motel room, permits Muzak in elevators and hip-hop on the radio, forces style on everyone at the level of The Gap and Old Navy (you gotta get THIS look!), produces actors and actresses (check out the cover of last week's TV Guide) who look so alike they couldn't be differentiated in a police lineup, serves only to drive from the market all but those products and brands whose Goliath corporations control the shelves--Hydrox is gone, Oreo rules--and makes eccentricity shameful, suspect, troublesome and even alarming to the groundling masses who opt for uniformity because, in their misguided acceptance of the theft of their privacy and singularity, they think (like the Jews of Germany prior to Krystelnacht and the Third Reich) that when the pogroms start, they will be so invisible in likeness to the faceless they wish to emulate, that they won't hear the whistle of the axe. They're right. They WON'T hear it coming.
Sad to say--Elite Ellison dares the opprobrium--most people are average. Not stupid, or ignorant, mostly uneducated or blissfully, probably arrogantly, uninformed; or frightened at having to support the Atlas weight of their own existence. The responsibility for their actions, for their decisions, for their very lives, frightens them. How else explain this irrational universal umbrage of entitlement, with no one ever being "at fault"? They are not, in the words of "Invictus," the captains of their ships, the masters of their fates. They are no better or worse than you or I, but they dare little. They venture little. They do not savor the acid rain of adventure. Safe and sane is their motto. (Except they eat food that will kill them, they drive their cars too fast, they rage and flame at minor affronts, and they KNOW they're not getting a fair shake. Why? Because the culture tells them to eat eat eat, to drive drive drive, to be angry angry angry, to whine whine whine at how badly they're being taken advantage of...by others of their own kind, by poor devils just like themselves, who are being gulled and lied to.)
They furnish their homes like motel rooms. They watch movies that are awful. They read slovenly or uninventive writers (if they read at all). Because they are TOLD that's what a "normal" person does. Why do they not take offense at laugh tracks that "tell" them every dull or insipid line of sitcom dialogue is funny? Why do they not question why baggy gangsta clothing or raggedy-bottom miniskirts are shoved down their throats when such clothing is either ugly and inappropriate, or just simply contrary to "form follows function" purposes? Why wear baseball caps backwards, when the bill was put there specifically to keep the sun OFF the face? Why pay attention to the adolescent doings of Nicole and Tom, Puff Daddy and Jay-Lo, Alyssa and Shannen, when important things are being done, being written, being produced? Because, he said succinctly, the evil handmaiden of mediocrity is Commerce. Almost all advertising now is false advertising. They are told by Oprah or the icon women on The View that THE BRIDGES OF MADISON COUNTY is insightful, compelling, and "must" be read, so they read one of the worst, most lachrymose, most insipid books of the century, and the wonderful writings of Harvey Swados, Chandler Brossard, Frederic Prokosch and Bernard Wolfe slip further into obscurity and oblivion. "The business of America" said Coolidge, aped by Reagan, "is business." What a swell testament. We don't laud art, we censor it with the Helmses and Giulianis; we don't give the world great philosophical wisdom; we push the Star Wars defense, Coca-Cola, World Federation Wrestling, and Baywatch tits'n'abs'n'asses.
Why do people read mediocre writers and not perceive, not worry, that their ability to distinguish between bad and good is atrophying? Because they have been bludgeoned and coerced and duped and pussywhipped by a society that believes the business of America is business, and so anything that moves the units off the shelves is Honorable, Excusable and, essentially A Good Thing. And whatever tends to get people thinking on their own, questioning, rejecting, costing the headless serpent conglomerates a few cents on the bottom line...is EVIL, must be quashed, by any means possible smoothed out and leavened.
Thoreau said, and I live by this: "He serves the State best who opposes the State most."
This way, of course, lies arrest, conviction, and incarceration.
But what choice is there for a free, thinking entity in our time:
Judith Krantz novels or Donald Westlake and MOBY DICK?
But, possibly, I couldn't be more wrong.
Not as succinctly as I'd intended, yr. loquacious pal, Harlan.
Re: Rendell's JUDGMENT IN STONE. Always thought that book had one of the best narrative hooks I ever saw:
"Eunice Parchman killed the Coverdale family because she could neither read nor write. But there was more to it than that."
Don't have the book in front of me, so it may be off by a word or two, but I kinda doubt it. Grabber of an opening.
---TR
Rob:
I was sorta ignoring the Spillane query.
I may be old, but I ain't absentminded. I see all, read all, know all. If I don't reply, it's out of choice.
About the Mick. I have never much cared for his stuff. Read I, THE JURY when it first came out, and the two or three follow-up Mike Hammer books. Thought they were kind of silly. But he was as enormously popular, controversial, and influential as any writer in the '50s (with the possible exception of Grace Metalious); and one of my best friends, Max Allan Collins (who is, I think, a better novelist than Mickey), damn near worships him. The best thing about Spillane, for me, is that he inspired the magnificent parody by Fritz Leiber. I think he was a sharp, individual voice, worth reading (at least the first three) as a popular culture phenom, and certainly entertaining. That he ain't my cuppa, is MY problem, and shouldn't be yours; which is why I ignored the question when you first asked it. What the hell does it MATTER what I think of Spillane, or Melville, or Clark?
If you read the Bond books, I'd urge you to start with the earliest ones, particularly FROM RUSSIA, WITH LOVE--which I still think is the best of them all.
yr. pal, Harlan.
I am at the other end of the MOBY DICK assertions. Look, I know how tough, how apparently tedious, this novel can be. I can understand that, if not identify. For some reason, and I bless that unknown reason, the first time I read Melville, in junior high school, I instantly loved the book. It wasn't part of the curriculum, I wasn't assigned the book, I just picked it up, in a Pocket Book edition, and was hooked like a sperm whale at "Call me Ishmael." I, well, I just instantly loved the book. And, more odd than that, was my enthrallment with the chapters that had no plot significance at all--on the mast, on the anchor, on the sails--chapters about whaling, and the sea. Hell, folks, the word "flense" that I use all the time came from the chapter on flensing the deck of scraps from a slaughtered whale, washing them down into the scuppers, flensing--cleaning--the deck. In my vast compendium of thousands of books read in a lifetime, there are only a few I return to again and again. MOBY DICK is one of them. I know it's supposed to be cocktail-party-chatt "intellectual" and very chi-chi to assert one reads, understands, and loves books such as MOBY DICK (and you'll never hear me saying anything like this about Hawthorne or most of James Gould Cozzens--except the short novels--or much of Henry James or the odious George Eliot), but I tell you in all absolute honesty, I snow you not, I am NUTS about the White Whale. It is so full, just jampacked FULL of good writing and smart insights and memorable moments and great life-filled characters...well, it bowled me over at age 13, 14, or whatever age I was...and it continues to do so now at age 67. That others go blind trying to enjoy this justly-acclaimed "classic" is not beyond my ken, but there are damned good reasons why this book is one of the very few universally considered eligible as The Great American Novel. If I might venture a suggestion (though I am in no means trying to subscribe to Margaret Thatcher's statement, "I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end")-- maybe the way to read MOBY DICK is for you to elide the chapters that are digressive. DON'T read about the anchor, DON'T get hung up on the mizzenmast chapter, DON'T linger on the section about Queeqeg's harpoon. Just read it for plot and action, like one of those Jerry Bruckheimer movies in which things keep exploding so frequently that you're swept along. Trust me: the plot is not like those in scripts written for Bruckheimer movies...it makes sense, hangs together, is logical and compelling. Read MOBY DICK the way you'd read a James Bond thriller, and it'll spring to life for you. Yes, it IS a startling allegory, filled with levels and levels of different ways of reading the same story...but you need pay no attention to that.
Read MOBY DICK for pleasure. Hell, that's what I do.
Hardly an intellectual, yr. pal, Plain Ole Harlan.
Peg,
Certainly, it is more than reasonable to assume that different people have different dietary needs - something the AMA all but refuses to acknowledge. If the diet you were referring to was the one based on blood type, however, that one was a pure crock of shit.
Refined sugar is the killer drug I was talking about - however I was also talking about going cold turkey from all sugar, including fructose, lactose, etc. People who are extremely insulin resistant need to avoid most sugar altogether - remember, just because it's natural doesn't make it good. Last I checked, arsenic was all natural. However, for most people, just cutting out the refined sugar is all they need. And if that's the only thing anyone does - go ahead and keep eating the breads and pastas and starches - it'll still be the healthiest thing you ever did.
Remember, we never ate thise refined sugar crap before the 19th century and never ate in quantity until the later 20th century.
ON READING: When I was a kid, I used to read about 3 books a week while also reading plenty of comic books. I was capable of some pretty awesome feats of concentration being able to read nonstop for 6 or 7 hour stretches. Reading 60 to 70 pages an hour, I could finish an entire book in one sitting. Of course, in those days, I was reading lots of Dragonlance books and all of Piers Anthony's stuff, some of which is some fairly light reading.
I can't focus like that anymore at the ripe old age of 29. I need a break every hour or so and I only read about 2 books a week now and don't read nearly as many comic books as I used to. I'm also reading more challenging material. Piers Anthony and Dragonlanze got me through adolescence. Harlan Ellison and Carl Sagan and Ray Bradbury and Stephen King have accompanied me through adulthood.
Chris, Rob - I recall a nutrition trend a few years back to the effect that there were 3 or so general body/metabolism types. It went on that one type would work best with high protein, one high carbs, etc. On the surface it seemed to make sense - e.g., why one diet would work for some and not others, etc.
Just curious if either of you are familiar and had comments, since you both seem to have read up a lot on the nutritional side and have strong opinions.
Will have to consider kicking sugar - I assume, Chris, you mean added or refined sugar, and not sugar which naturally occurs in foods. I'll have to plan it in, though - too hectic a schedule to rely on doing it off the cuff.
I actually "kick" caffeine on a semiregular basis - often on vacation - and don't find it much of a problem. That seems odd to me as I drink a ton of caffeine at work during the week, although I'll regularly skip on weekends just cause I don't get around to making coffee/tea in the morning.
Just some weekend musings...
I'm a great admirer of Lethem's work, though MOTHERLESS BROOKLYN is not my favorite (though it won the National Book award, so clearly other people felt otherwise). He did a fabulous job with Lionel's character and, I'm gathering, with his disorder, but the book kind of fell apart for me at the end.
I recently read a great collection of short stories written by Lethem and another author (whose name sadly escapes me at the moment) called "Kafka Americana." Some great reimaginings of both Kafka's stories and his life, including one in which Kafka emigrates to the U.S. and goes to work in Hollywood for Frank Capra where he writes the precursor to "It's a Wonderful Life." Great stuff.
Lethem likes to slip around in the genres a bit (more power to him), but if you're looking for another mystery, you might check out his first book: GUN, WITH OCCASIONAL MUSIC. Kind of a hybrid SF/Noir Mystery and well worth the read.
On reading in general...Well, I suspect I'm like a lot of people on this list. I read VORACIOUSLY, but I never feel as though I'm reading ENOUGH. Part of that is that I read people's as-yet-unpublished manuscripts for a living, which impinges in both a practical and psychological way on my ability to read other, published works. But I try.
One thing that's been interesting (to me) is that I began a reading journal at the beginning of the year. I basically devote a page to every book I read, just to keep track of their storylines and my overall opinion of each book. I've found that doing so helps me retain a bit more of what I've read, though I still find I don't remember as much of the book(s) as I'd like! I'm trying to break the habit of being a "skimmer" and REALLY dig into the books I read for better overall retention.
Re: sugar/wheat - well, I may actually try both, starting Monday. So, if you guys hear plaintive howls coming from the southeast, you'll know from whence they issue. :-)
Ciao, amigo(a)s --
Lorin
Hello to everyone on this board.
I just finished a fine mystery novel,"Motherless Brooklyn" by Jonathan Lethem, in which the protagonist's difficulties in finding the killer are further hampered by him having Tourettes Syndrome. It's really my first foray into mystery fiction, so I can't compare it to the greats that have been listed.
Re: Mary Grisham Clancy: I work in Receiving at a major retail chain, and it's amazing the number of these books that are sold. The sheer un-imaginativeness of some of the titles, one author has the word "Prey" in every title, seems a dead giveaway to the disposability of the novels themselves. I'm relieved to know that Sue Grafton can only write 26 books, at which point she'll have run out of letters ("Z is for Zorry I Wrote so Many Bad Books"). We also sell a bit of Stephen King books, which I handle more carefully than the others. ON WRITING sold quite well, although I doubt many people used it to become better writers. To be fair, Target also sells a much smaller list of decent titles; I was overjoyed when the paperback of "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" came to our store. Of course, if I ever saw a HE book there I'd keel over.
I think the reason that people keep buying Clark, Clancy, etc. is name recognition. They're not just authors, they're brands. A case in point is Tom Clancy, who is not even dead yet has his name plastered all over books he hasn't written. Just recently I saw a book someone else wrote based on an 'idea' by M.H. Clark, with her name taking top billing, prompting speculation by me whether she had died. People buy them because it's safer to keep reading the same author than to risk venturing out into unknown lands, even though those lands are far more richer and exciting than the dust bowl of fiction most people seem content to squat on.
Also, I just don't think most people demand much from the novels they read, or the movies they watch, or the TV they absorb, or the music they listen too. If it's pleasantly bland, that's good enough to distract them from their lives.
Regarding the Clash: I've always heard that they we good, but sadly my knowledge of them doesn't go past "Rock the Casbah". It's sad how short the cultural memory of people, even myself, can be. It reminds me of a scene in the film PCU where a senior mentions the Clash to the blank stare of a housemate and says something to the effect of "You know, there was music before 1992." What would be a good album to experience more of the Clash? I'm a fan of music that everyone else doesn't know/ doesn't like; my two favorite bands are They Might Be Giants and XTC.
Harlan: I'll be attending Mad Con 2001 in October, which looks to be shaping up as a reunion of sorts of Mad Media 5, which I also attended. Will you be spending any time with Neil Gaiman while there, and perchance be finishing the collaboration you two started at MM5?
Regarding Mary Higgins Clark, Grisham, Clancy and the like: The main problem I have with these scribblers is their utter lack of style. It amazes me that more readers aren't bored to tears by their tone-deaf use of language. Even more than the predictable plots, it's this utter stylelessness that makes me want to hurl their books across the room. Reading usually involves some effort; I just wonder why people waste their time with the literary equivalent of soap operas.
I (ashamedly but truthfully) nominate myself as a minor exception of the not being well read variety.
I nominate myself as a minor exception of the not being well read variety.
Lorin: Re:Wheat & Sugar. Hmmm, a tough one. Try both simultaneously; not as tough as it may seem. Go to Nature's Harvest (hoping that's the correct name as I've been going to Rollin' Oats in St. Pete for a while) on MacDill and the cross street is the one next to Borders on Dale Mabry (name slips memory). They should carry wheat free bread and many other sugar free products.
Lorin:
No contest, cut out the sugar. Wheat's not so bad and you'd only need to cut back on grains if you have problems with insulin resistance (e-mail me if you want more info 'cause I don't want to bore everyone else). Once I spent a good two weeks cold turkey on sugar, it was amazing, simply amazing, how different I felt. My mind was sharper, my energy level shot through the roof - it's an experiment I recommend everyone to try at least once. It's the sort of thing you eat darn near every day so you never realize how much it can drag you down. Refined sugar is, no bones about it, a killer drug.
CORTORT: Not that you asked moi, but for my money Butler's "Xenogenesis" series is her best work. I BELIEVE the book titles are DAWN, ADULTHOOD RITES, and IMAGO. I may have those wrong, but I think I'm at least close. (Too lazy to open another window to Amazon.com and check.)
Butler spoke at last year's Suncoast Writers Conference (in nearby St. Pete) and was great. She had this fabulous Maya Angelou-meets Kermit the frog-meets James Earl Jones voice that was worth the price of admission alone. She also showed a lot of forbearance with the people standing in line for autographs, including me. I figure if I can't get HE's in person, I can at least work my way through all the people he's taught or influenced.
So, that is that.
Re: the Clash (I know, I know, I'm always thirty posts behind...) - I saw them open for The Who at Shea Stadium in 1983, I guess it was. This was right around the time that "Rock the Casbah" hit. The poor guys were BOOED off the stage. Then I saw them a few years later at Hofstra University and they burned down the house, but FIRST they made Hofstra security take out all the seating in the gym so that we could dance closer to the stage.
Last Clash tidbit: back in the days of their popularity, I had one friend who thought the words were "rock the jazzbar" and ANOTHER who thought they were "rock the Cat's Paw," which I guess was supposed to be the name of a club or something. To this day, I can't hear that song without mentally making one of the above substitutions.
AND not to flog the pulpy dead carcass of this here horse, BUT if one were to cut out EITHER sugar or wheat (with a view toward eventually doing both, but having to take baby-steps), which would you folks (who have opinions on such matters) recommend eliminating first?
Happy Saturday to all and to all a good night...
Lorin O.
Whew, with Harlan and Alex's lists, I think I'm set on my recent plunge into mystery novels, the only genre of "genre fiction" I've mostly neglected (outside of romance novels) so far in my reading career.
I've already read the great Westlake and the redoubtable Mr. John McDonald and I'm currently working on a book by some guy named Hammett. Apparently The Maltese Falcon was a book too! :)
I am somewhat relieved to find out I wasn't just missing something in my reading of Mary Higgins Clark. I don't like slamming anyone's work but, man, "We'll Meet Again" was one lousy book.
Is anyone else constantly frustrated at their inability to process information as fast as they would like to? I can't read fast enough to come anywhere close to reading everything I want to. Sometimes it makes me wanna cry.
Harlan mentioned the great Kate Wilhelm in his post and just so I don't make the mistake of assuming everyone knows about it, I'd like to point out that thew current issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction is devoted to Kate Wilhelm. Just bought it, gotta finish Maltese Falcon first and then I'm gonna devour that sucker.
To Hancock:
Re: Moby Dick. I read it a long time ago - barely in my teens. But for myself, never in school. Melville is a tough read anyway because of the dense style of his time. Having said that, although I could REALLY use a refresher read, I recall finding the work quite evocative and I think it's a masterpiece. So did Ray Bradbury.
Harlan, I didn't see your post till I shot mine through. Your Gresham plug really caught me; I'm going to grab NIGHTMARE ALLEY.
My check, btw, for YOUR tome is in the mail - with my UNFORGED signature.
Harlan,
Just arrived back to our little hamlet here only to find it's still governed by the gourmands touting their goût; but since the topic of mystery writers opened on the lower east end I thought I might stroll on through THAT neighborhood and make like a Bowery boy.
You may have missed an earlier post of mine or maybe you just opted to pass because of time but I wondered about your thoughts on Mickey Spillane. I think I recall a good word about him in one of your Dangerous Visions intros. Beyond Doyle I can't remember the last mystery writer I've ever bothered reading (NOT that there aren't good ones). But noir always entices me in any form and I'd meant to give Spillane a try now and then (and not judge him from the trashy movies made from his titles).
Looking at another name, I always thought I'd try out Fleming's Bond to see how much it differed from the movies (to give the series a fresh cycle, it might be interesting for the producers to actually go to the books and film them faithfully instead of repeating the tired formula so much; there's a lot of room there since Connery's movies lifted only Fleming's titles. It would probably also mean somewhat reinventing the character). Of course, I don't know how good a writer Ian Fleming really was.
Moby Dick. Oh dear.
The last three chapters and epilouge were brilliant, but getting there was a hassle. I've not read a more tedious book than MD. I think it's one of those books that are better suited for finding "symbolism" in it for your AP English classes than actually reading it for pleasure.
My memory is probably wrong, but to quote Mark Twain: "There are books you want to read, and books you have to read." Or something like that.
Jim Davis:
William Lindsay Gresham was one of the greatest American writers of the 20th Century, and NIGHTMARE ALLEY is beyond classic. It is a novel so steeped in emotion, written with such burning passion, and so remorseless in its destiny, that I challenge ANYONE to read it and not be swept into its vortex.
THE FRIENDS OF EDDIE COYLE was one of those astonishing debut novels that marks its author as a "must-read" for decades thereafter. Made a not-too-terrific Mitchum movie of it, but the novel stands unbesmirched in the pantheon of smart, street wise fiction as descended from James M. Cain, Erskine Caldwell, Irving Schulman, Cornell Woolrich, Peter Rabe, David Goodis. How much a loss, that Higgins passed away not that long ago, untimely.
Yr. pal, Harlan.
Alex Jay: Just because I was trying to be emblematic, judicious and brief, does not mean I was downstepping more than a few of the writers on your addendum--though there are a number on said list I've read once or twice and no longer have any interest in reading--and a number I DID include--Kaminsky and McBain to name only two that you must have overlooked in my post--or ones who are personal, long-time friends--Block, Goulart, Ellroy, Dutch Leonard, Lansdale, Al Collins--who are just so familiar to me that I zazzed them under my radar . . . the point is, Sunny Jim, that I wasn't about to name every mystery/suspense writer I adore--from G.K. Chesterton to Doyle to Ellery Queen to my sadly-gone pal Jim Thompson to Dean Koontz to Edogawa Rampo--or to be anything like exhaustive; but only to provide a wide enough swath for Chris L. to find immediate succor and refuge away from writers I, in my hubris, think are beneath her notice. Geezus, must ALL of you overcompensate by the need to actualize YOUR erudition with feigned dumbstruckedness at the gaps in others' literary acumen? Why don't we just accept that with minor exceptions, everyone who hangs out here is well-read. We may not all be as widely encompassing as Loftus, who doesn't actually work for a living and has time to sit out in the sun on park benches in Lake Oswego, eating white peaches and declaiming Schopenhauer to the groundling passersby, but there are no dummies among you. Even if you didn't know the Frank McAuliffe books.
Amy: if by "ragalach" you mean what my mother (and Brown's Victory Bakery) called "rugalah," I'm your boy. Cinnamon-walnut, fer shur. But the raspberry sounds swell, too. Not to mention the apricot, which I only love. Or the...
Ready to masticate, momma, I remain, yr. pal, Harlan
Are you talking good or great restaurant?
If you're looking for an expensive gourmet experience at a 4 star restaurant, the best meal I've ever had is at a place in Atlanta called Canoe.
In the interest of disclosure, my very dearest friend is a sou-chef there but I kid you not - this is great food!
If you want recommendations for more mid-scale choices, I can ask my buddy what else he likes in the area - he knows just about every restaurant in town.
CORTORT: Butler's "Parable of the Talents" won the Nebula in 1998 and is a good read. I've also always been partial to her "Wild Seed" -- Billy D.
Yeah, massive lists can get numbing sometimes, so I'll keep this short and sweet. Three of my favorite crime/suspense novels are: A JUDGEMENT IN STONE by Ruth Rendall, NIGHTMARE ALLEY by William Lindsay Gresham, and THE FRIENDS OF EDDIE COYLE by George V. Higgins. Anybody read these?
HEy read Parable of the Sower thanks to the rec in Again Dangerous Visions. Its funny how they always pick LA to have the most messed up apocolyptic test societies. What should I read next by her??
Hey Ellisons, you ever give tours of your house for tourists??
I read about how it looked a long time ago and have wanted to visit ever since. I'm going to LA soon.
Here is my website you can check out to see I am not a maniac or whatever.
Don't go to it on Saturdays you won't get anywhere.
And on Thurdays it might crash your browser.
http://swezlex.com
Amy,
I'm staying at the Hyatt for Dragon*Con (my first, by the way). I'll check with my Atlanta connections as to what is a good restaurant in the area.
Regards,
Joseph
Geez, Alex, how do you expect us to choose something to read, and not have our eyes glaze over, when you throw a hefty list at us with no differentiation?
You guys read a lot of genre stuff, which I don't. I've heard of most of the people you cite, but I regularly read only Ellison and Bradbury on the one hand, and Ellroy and Elizabeth George on another. Haven't seen anyone mention Elizabeth George, an American who writes elegant, complicated British plots. Not that I insist on elegance, by any means -- I adore Ellroy, after all.
Busy day, brief comments- I get to see my tax dollars at work every day. Every hour. Every ten frickin' minutes, whenever an aircraft takes off from Davis-Monthan AFB, and the sound of freedom roars overhead. As the aircraft ascend, be they C130s or F16s or F15s or A10s (most common), they go right over my apartment. And when I say "right over my apartment," I don't mean, "Goshy jeepers, those puppies SOUND like they're right over my head!" I actually mean, "If one of those babies gets hit with a rocket or decides to pirouette out of the friendly skies right about now, I shall have a revolutionary new fuselage backpack at my disposal for the rest of eternity." So I know how it is.
J
Once again, regarding Dragon*Con--YES, I want to meet you people, and I've got a tape for Joseph, and dinner would be great, BUT...I don't know many restaurants in Atlanta. The one I wanted to visit is gone. So unless anyone attending has any specific suggestions, I figure we can just hook up at the con and work out the details from there. I am NOT staying in an official hotel (I prefer to avoid the oh-so-long lines for the elevators); I'll be in the Wyndham on Spring Street. We're driving in, so there's a back seat available for anyone who might need a ride to wherever we decide to go.
Harlan:
I've always wanted to make palacsinta for you (I only make it for people who are *S*P*E*C*I*A*L* to me 'cause it takes forever to get through even a couple cups of batter), but since I won't have a kitchen in Atlanta...how'd you like some ragalach? I'm a fourth generation baker with a WHOLE lot of practice. Apricot, raspberry, cinnamon-walnut...your choice. Interested?
Alex,
You're correct that Carol Higgins Clark is not bad.
She's excruciatingly bad.
Just my opinion,
Joseph
HARLAN: Yes--but can you COOK?
My feelings on food:
It's a good thing.
To eat, to smell, to cook, to sell. I am simultaneously gourmet and gourmand ("'Gourmand' is French for 'big fat pig.'"--translation by my girlfriend)--I can thrill to a well-made version of Madame Chiang's Chicken Roulades as well as a steamed beef roll from a dimsum stand; to dinner at Le Bec-Fin as well as a stop-in at Burger King.
The finest hand-ground coffee draws me in with its scintillating smell--but so does oil-slicked diner swill.
And nothing is more fun than cooking something intricate like Vermouth-Sauced Egg Batter-Crusted Medallions of Bacon-Wrapped Veal, or something simple like Rum-and-Coke Chicken--or even Knockwurst and Baked Beans!
It's all good.
(And I am SO glad to hear that someone else here loves the mystery and mouth-watering appeal of scrapple ... Sure, Barney probably likes it, but he's from Scrappleville in Amishland anyway ...)
HARLAN AGAIN: What; no Robert B. Parker, Kinky Friedman, Gillian Roberts, Joe R. Lansdale, Jill Churchill, Jonathan Gash, Sandra Scoppetone, Claude Evers, Laurence Shames, Max Allan Collins, Faye Kellerman, Tony Hillerman, Lewis Shiner, Bill Pronzini, Dorothy Sayers, Ron Goulart, Peter J. Heck, Thomas Perry, Walter Mosley, Robert Campblell, Andrew Vachss, Elmore Leonard, Charles Willeford, Fred Willard, Jim Thompson, Stuart Kaminsky, Joe Gores--and the McMacs, of which you named only one: McBain, Sharyn McCrumb, Gregory Mcdonald, Ross MacDonald, and (all rise) JOHN D. MACDONALD.
Also, you left out one YOU'VE praised to the heavens--James Ellroy.
And lastly, my FAVORITE mystery/thriller writer; the only person I can think of who does it better than Westlake (although they're good friends and would never try to lord it over the other): LAWRENCE BLOCK.
And as I'm not looking at my bookshelves right now, I'm sure to be missing some.
(Note: Mary Higgins Clark's daughter, Carol Higgins Clark, has just started writing mysteries, and is rumored to be not bad.)
Hey--thinking of books, I have to wonder: Howe fast do you all read? Me, I'm about a book a aday, but that's alongside things like work, chores, writing, exercise, internet ...
FYI - I've Harlan's first eight commentaries from WORKING WITHOUT A NET in .asf format - 79.7MB total. I couldn't get them to display on my browser so I had to download them locally. Should the requisite permissions be given, I'd be happy to make them available. If I get permission and someone wants to convert them to realaudio format (although we don't have a RealServer we could still serve them up as .rm files), I'll make that available as well.
I've also got some audiovideo clips of Harlan from his darkcarnival.com interview - I've been serving them locally for that website for several years. I just got permission to make them available via my website. I'll take care of that this weekend. I've been doing this little thing called "working enough to not go to jail for tax evasion" lately, but I do have time to do you that small favor.
As for SCI-FI BUZZ - I have permission to archive the text of the commentaries here - the archive is at http://harlanellison.com/buzz/ and includes the buzzes that were displayed on the Sci-Fi Channel's website as well as 7 visitor-submitted commentaries. If anyone else wants to have a go at transcribing some more, I'll be happy to put them up. I also have permission to display a video/audio and audio only file of Harlan reading his short story "Susan" on Sci-Fi buzz, if anyone cares to create a digital video and audio file of this again I'd love to put it up.
Ball's in your court, faithful Webderland visitors! Let the digitizing and transcribing begin!
Harlan: Thank you. I will include a short note when I mail the check for "Sleepless..."
Oh, and FANTASTIC to see you pushing Westlake. God I love his books. Ditto Robert Crais. May I add two more to the list? Ross Macdonald and Lawrence Block. Great stuff.
Harlan,
My mother, interestingly, turned me on to Lynda S. Robinson. Wonderful stuff. She also turned me on to Lindsey Davis and her wonderful series of novels starring Marcus Didius Falco, investigator for Emperor Vespasian. I make an annual gift to her of the latest Davis novel, since they come out a year earlier in Britain (god bless overseas Internet ordering). While the whole "investigator in the past" genre has become a bit of a cliche, I'll stick by those two and Ellis Peters' Brotehr Cadfael novels.
Regards,
Joseph
John Grisham is okay in my book. I've been reading him since _A Time To Kill_, and I think the last thing I read was _The Brethren_. The latter is not in the same category as _The Firm_, admittedly, but at least I have something to talk about to my folks when I go home to visit. _The Street Lawyer_ and _The Client_ are probably my two favorite stories, while _The Firm_ is perhaps the best of his that I've read. Legal thrillers, another guilty pleasure.
Loftus~ Reading the Keyes book. It's great. It isn't helping one little bit, but it is a good book. Thanks again for the suggestion.
L.
Dear Darryl L.: I've reserved you a copy of SLEEPLESS NIGHTS.
All best--Susan
Chris L.:
You didn't hear it from me, and I'll deny to the grave that I ever said it, but . . .
Don't waste your time with Mary Higgins Clark. There are too many excellent mystery&suspense writers you haven't gotten to yet. Loren Estleman, Julie Smith, Robert Crais, Diane K. Shah(as herself or aka Sarah Shankman), Michael Ledwidge, Emma Lathen, Stuart M. Kaminsky, Karen Kijewski, Ed McBain, Donald Westlake/Richard Stark, Lynda S. Robinson's brilliant mysteries featuring Lord Meren, the "private eyes and ears" of the young Pharoah Tutankhamun), David Morrell, Joe L. Hensley, Harold Adams (everything up till the last three), Gar Anthony Haywood, Martin Cruz Smith (particularly the original paperbacks he wrote in "The Inquisitor" series, back before he hit big with NIGHTWINGS and GORKY PARK, written under the pseudonym "Simon Quinn," which--if you can chase them down in a used bookstore or on the internet--are knockouts), Frank McCauliffe's three or four brilliant novels (particularly the mind-blowing OF ALL THE BLOODY CHEEK and A RATHER VICIOUS GENTLEMAN...staggeringly original and memorable), Michael Collins (in reality Dennis Lynds), Thomas Perry's THE BUTCHER BOY, Gary Phillips's THE JOOK, Les Roberts, the two Daniel Stashower novels featuring Houdini as detective, Lindsey Davis, John Lescroart, Kate Wilhelm, James Lee Burke . . . I founder . . . my shelves groan under the weight of these and dozens more who ply the mystery trade with panache and elan and grace, who do not club the genre and the form and the tropes and the language like a venal Hokkaido fisherman bludgeoning baby seals.
I did not tell you this, never spoke such a mean thing, but why waste your time on the bogus V.C. Andrewses and Harold Robbinses and Elliot Roosevelts of fiction (who were obstinately awful when they were actually alive and writing the crap themselves