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It's not a dry heat
May. 15th, 2007 03:55 pmRandom quote of the day:
Sigh. I miss Joel/Mike and the 'Bots...
Sigh. I miss Joel/Mike and the 'Bots...
Push the button, Frank
Jul. 20th, 2005 04:21 pmQuote of the day:
"Gods are great. But the heart is greater. For it is from our hearts they come, and to our hearts they shall return . . ."
—Neil Gaiman, American Gods
Things I thought of blogging today: The fact that this new movie, The Island, is a remake (or rip off?) of a horrifically cheesy scifi movie (The Clonus Horror) from the 70s that wound up being parodied on Mystery Science Theater 3000. Why anyone would want to remake such a turkey is beyond me, but the current moviemakers seem to have given it a high-gloss finish.
God, I miss MST3K.
One of the great ironic highlights of my writing career was when I realized that one of the stink bombs being parodied on MST3K was written by a writing teacher I had at UCLA whom I loathed—not because he was a stinky writer, but because he was a pretentious bully and control freak.
God, I miss MST3K.
Just the thought of the poopie suit scene in Starfighters has me laughing until I...
Random pretentious thought of the day: Poetry, it seems to me, is about the willingness to be naked in front of strangers.
No, that's not quite right. It's about the willingness to appear to be naked in front of strangers. It isn't confessional, not the good stuff. No, it's more like doing a strip tease, but when you get past the point of your skivvies what the audience really sees is a marvelous body suit that gives the breathless illusion of skin.
Odd discovery of the day: One of my ancestors showed up being discussed on a mailing list called CIRCUS FOLK. Imagine my delight! I had so hoped he'd been a two-headed man or a wildman of the woods—or at least double-jointed—before converting to Mormonism and acquiring nine wives back in the 19th century before the church outlawed it. But no, the wildest he got (before the wives) was playing clarinet in the band. Of course, the nine wives were a bit of a feat—and makes for some amazingly tangled genealogy, I can tell you.
Fortunately, I'm descended from the black sheep line of that family.
Of course, he also spent time as a ship's carpenter. I like to think of his polygamy as a formalized and sanctified extension of his seafaring days.
Here's a verse for Kevin of the day: From today's Edward Gorey calendar:
The seaweed on the shore cries out,
But only it knows what about
"Gods are great. But the heart is greater. For it is from our hearts they come, and to our hearts they shall return . . ."
—Neil Gaiman, American Gods
Things I thought of blogging today: The fact that this new movie, The Island, is a remake (or rip off?) of a horrifically cheesy scifi movie (The Clonus Horror) from the 70s that wound up being parodied on Mystery Science Theater 3000. Why anyone would want to remake such a turkey is beyond me, but the current moviemakers seem to have given it a high-gloss finish.
God, I miss MST3K.
One of the great ironic highlights of my writing career was when I realized that one of the stink bombs being parodied on MST3K was written by a writing teacher I had at UCLA whom I loathed—not because he was a stinky writer, but because he was a pretentious bully and control freak.
God, I miss MST3K.
Just the thought of the poopie suit scene in Starfighters has me laughing until I...
Random pretentious thought of the day: Poetry, it seems to me, is about the willingness to be naked in front of strangers.
No, that's not quite right. It's about the willingness to appear to be naked in front of strangers. It isn't confessional, not the good stuff. No, it's more like doing a strip tease, but when you get past the point of your skivvies what the audience really sees is a marvelous body suit that gives the breathless illusion of skin.
Odd discovery of the day: One of my ancestors showed up being discussed on a mailing list called CIRCUS FOLK. Imagine my delight! I had so hoped he'd been a two-headed man or a wildman of the woods—or at least double-jointed—before converting to Mormonism and acquiring nine wives back in the 19th century before the church outlawed it. But no, the wildest he got (before the wives) was playing clarinet in the band. Of course, the nine wives were a bit of a feat—and makes for some amazingly tangled genealogy, I can tell you.
Fortunately, I'm descended from the black sheep line of that family.
Of course, he also spent time as a ship's carpenter. I like to think of his polygamy as a formalized and sanctified extension of his seafaring days.
Here's a verse for Kevin of the day: From today's Edward Gorey calendar:
The seaweed on the shore cries out,
But only it knows what about
Squeezing for memage
Feb. 19th, 2005 01:19 pmAll right, I decided to stop sitting here like a quivering lump of blancmange and come up with Ten Things I've Done That Others Might Not Have. Once I squeezed the brain a few times like a wet sponge, a few drops came out.
Prepare to snooze.
1. I rode in a gondola at nine o'clock at night through the canals of Venice, Italy and in the Grand Canal because the guy I was with thought "they ripped you off earlier in the day or evening." It was definitely not romantic in the pitch dark with rats scurrying along the not-so-far-away edges of canal and those dark looming buildings and the brackish water lap-lap-lapping against them. And riding in a tiny boat in a very large Grand Canal (open water) with big boats all around in pitch black dark is not something I recommend, either.
2. I drove around the West Country of England on my own for eight days, nothing booked in advance, just finding rooms as I arrived in a city through the Tourist Information or asking around. That was enormous fun. I got to be completely selfish about what I saw and did. No one to discuss it with, though.
3. When I was a kid I saw the original Cinemascope version of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Most amazing movie experience ever. Years later when I saw the 70mm version I couldn't figure why it was so disappointing, why the scenes I remember so vividly as looming off the screen at me seemed so flat and dull. Later, when I briefly flirted with film school and heard a lecture on the subject, I understood. (Growing up in L.A., one is almost required to at least flirt with the film industry.)
4. Climbed to the top of the Pyramid of the Sun at Teotihuacan, Mexico.
5. Had a long conversation in a book store with Gary Busey about Thomas Jefferson who we both happened to be researching at the time. I wanted to write about him, Gary wanted to play him. I believe Nick Nolte got that part, but I could be mistaken.
6. Worked at the La Brea Tarpits one summer between high school and college in the microfossil lab and cataloging department. Handled real live prehistoric bones. Very fascinating stuff.
7. Met Henry Kissinger. Okay, okay, so I didn't really meet him, but I was in the same room with him. He was wearing some sort of Man Tan, and I could hear him droning on in that voice, and I couldn't keep a straight face. I had to leave the room so as not to embarrass myself.
8. Went to a fancy schmancy benefit Hollywood premiere for a hospital charity (I was invited by my candy striper friends as a guest) for an execrable B movie which I later saw lampooned on Mystery Science Theater 3000. Saw many celebrities and wound up sharing a bathroom cubicle with Carol Burnett. No, not at the same time. I was waiting in line and when the cubicle door opened and she looked out, the gob-smacked amazement on my face had her biting her lower lip so as not to laugh.
9. At the age of four or five I was on a horse who got spooked by lightning and broke away from my father, who was leading her. She took off in a blind panic headed for the busy four lane highway near the stables with me hanging on for dear life. Fortunately, my heroic mother managed to jump in front of her, wave her off the from the highway entrance and back towards the stables, and stop her panic. I don't remember being scared. I think maybe I wanted her to do it again.
10. I got to spend the better part of an hour alone in a megalithic burial chamber (West Kennet Long Barrow near Avebury). It was a rainy day and I had to climb a steepish hill through pastures to get to it and there wasn't anybody else around. When I'd finished and was on the way down, a German couple was just coming up. Being up there alone for so long was very mystical; being down in the ground in a stone-lined vault, very navel-of-the-world-like. The endorphins released in the climb up the hill may have had something to do with that, but it was an amazing experience and I felt part of some vast continuum. Since so much of my genetic material comes from the British Isles, I guess that's hardly surprising. It was one of those hinge moments, where you walk into an experience and the world shifts a little and although you're leaving by the same path, you realize it's headed in a slightly different direction. After that trip (the one where I was alone for 8 days) I made big changes in my life, so maybe I did leave that barrow in a slightly different direction.
ZZZZzzzzzzzzz.
Prepare to snooze.
1. I rode in a gondola at nine o'clock at night through the canals of Venice, Italy and in the Grand Canal because the guy I was with thought "they ripped you off earlier in the day or evening." It was definitely not romantic in the pitch dark with rats scurrying along the not-so-far-away edges of canal and those dark looming buildings and the brackish water lap-lap-lapping against them. And riding in a tiny boat in a very large Grand Canal (open water) with big boats all around in pitch black dark is not something I recommend, either.
2. I drove around the West Country of England on my own for eight days, nothing booked in advance, just finding rooms as I arrived in a city through the Tourist Information or asking around. That was enormous fun. I got to be completely selfish about what I saw and did. No one to discuss it with, though.
3. When I was a kid I saw the original Cinemascope version of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Most amazing movie experience ever. Years later when I saw the 70mm version I couldn't figure why it was so disappointing, why the scenes I remember so vividly as looming off the screen at me seemed so flat and dull. Later, when I briefly flirted with film school and heard a lecture on the subject, I understood. (Growing up in L.A., one is almost required to at least flirt with the film industry.)
4. Climbed to the top of the Pyramid of the Sun at Teotihuacan, Mexico.
5. Had a long conversation in a book store with Gary Busey about Thomas Jefferson who we both happened to be researching at the time. I wanted to write about him, Gary wanted to play him. I believe Nick Nolte got that part, but I could be mistaken.
6. Worked at the La Brea Tarpits one summer between high school and college in the microfossil lab and cataloging department. Handled real live prehistoric bones. Very fascinating stuff.
7. Met Henry Kissinger. Okay, okay, so I didn't really meet him, but I was in the same room with him. He was wearing some sort of Man Tan, and I could hear him droning on in that voice, and I couldn't keep a straight face. I had to leave the room so as not to embarrass myself.
8. Went to a fancy schmancy benefit Hollywood premiere for a hospital charity (I was invited by my candy striper friends as a guest) for an execrable B movie which I later saw lampooned on Mystery Science Theater 3000. Saw many celebrities and wound up sharing a bathroom cubicle with Carol Burnett. No, not at the same time. I was waiting in line and when the cubicle door opened and she looked out, the gob-smacked amazement on my face had her biting her lower lip so as not to laugh.
9. At the age of four or five I was on a horse who got spooked by lightning and broke away from my father, who was leading her. She took off in a blind panic headed for the busy four lane highway near the stables with me hanging on for dear life. Fortunately, my heroic mother managed to jump in front of her, wave her off the from the highway entrance and back towards the stables, and stop her panic. I don't remember being scared. I think maybe I wanted her to do it again.
10. I got to spend the better part of an hour alone in a megalithic burial chamber (West Kennet Long Barrow near Avebury). It was a rainy day and I had to climb a steepish hill through pastures to get to it and there wasn't anybody else around. When I'd finished and was on the way down, a German couple was just coming up. Being up there alone for so long was very mystical; being down in the ground in a stone-lined vault, very navel-of-the-world-like. The endorphins released in the climb up the hill may have had something to do with that, but it was an amazing experience and I felt part of some vast continuum. Since so much of my genetic material comes from the British Isles, I guess that's hardly surprising. It was one of those hinge moments, where you walk into an experience and the world shifts a little and although you're leaving by the same path, you realize it's headed in a slightly different direction. After that trip (the one where I was alone for 8 days) I made big changes in my life, so maybe I did leave that barrow in a slightly different direction.
ZZZZzzzzzzzzz.
