My neighbors decided that I didn’t need any sleep this weekend. Consequently, my mind is too fuzzy to focus on the posts I have planned. Instead, here’s another batch of miscellaneous nonsense.
Category: Culture and anti-culture
The other space pirate spotted in Hollywood
For reasons that no one understands, my office is on The Hollywood Reporter‘s mailing list. It’s like any other Hollywood product: garbage, lavishly packaged. I spotted the above ad in this weeks’ issue. Is an anime film (albeit CG) going to get a major advertising campaign in the west?
Grain elevators and Odin
“No unmet needs exist and … current unmet needs that are being met will continue to be met.”
See also Thog’s Masterclass at Ansible.
Fans of ’80s music, maskerade has a request for you.
Why do engineers confuse Halloween and Christmas?
In lieu of a substantive post, here’s some miscellaneous nonsense I came across recently.
A Gentile goes into a men’s clothing store, where he sees an elegant suede jacket. “How much is that jacket?” he asks the clerk. When the clerk tells him $1,200, the Gentile says, “I’ll take it.”
At the last minute, a Gentile calls his mother to announce that, owing to pressure at work, he will be two hours late for the family Thanksgiving dinner. “Of course,” his mother says, “I understand.”
Put Jews in both of those situations and you have the working premise for at least 50 possible jokes….
The most harrowing performance of Bach you’ll ever see (via Dick Stanley):
(Via Charles Hill.)
Poor Matt Labash. Not everyone has what it takes to be a brony.
Odds and ends
After two summers of desert heat, we now have a summer of tropical monsoon rain. The Little Arkansas River, which runs north, west and south of my place, is the highest it’s been in years. More rain is predicted.
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It occurs to me that comparing Stella etc. to Girls und Panzer is misguided. Yura has more in common with such painfully self-conscious characters as Inu x Boku SS‘s Ririchiyo and Tsuritama‘s Yuki than with with Miho, and the story thus far has been more about Yura learning to play well with others than about girls playing with guns.
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Ryutaro Nakamura, who directed Serial Experiments Lain and Kino’s Journey, recently died. Jonathan Clements’ appreciation is here.
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Jinrui wa Suitai Shimashita‘s Mediator should beware the dangers of undead hair.
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I generally consider “critic” to be a subset of the category “pompous fool.” Here’s an example why.
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One of my pictures was yesterday’s Botany Photo of the Day.
Observation
Few people read. I went to the DMV this morning to renew my driver’s license. There were at least fifty people there waiting for their summons, but the only book in sight was the one I brought with me. I expected that there would be a few Kindles and iPads in use, but nope. Everyone just sat there, doing nothing.
Dark Shadows, Guiding Light
Is there worse than the St. Louis Jesuits? Perhaps. (Keep the anti-nausea medication handy.)
Today’s quotes
I was taken particularly aback by the first five minutes of the film [Pacific Rim]. It shows very neatly and succinctly how we in the First World do have this knack for turning even the worst catastrophes, the most vicious wars, the most horrific losses of life, into forms of entertainment. Call it our penchant for commercializing everything, or a neat psychological trick for distancing ourselves emotionally and psychologically from the evils of this world, we can turn even global genocide into a game show, a video game, or a set of collectibles.
Norman is said to have his eyes on the Tory leadership; like Disraeli before him, he climbs the greasy pole with pen in hand. A product of Eton and Oxford, and a Ph.D. in philosophy, he combines politics and scholarship in a manner more common in Westminster than Washington. Boris Johnson, mayor of London and a rival in the race for Downing Street, dashes off witty works of popular history with ease; the Foreign Secretary, William Hague, has authored polished biographies of Pitt and Wilberforce. There is no equivalent in America; books by politicians here are almost invariably bland, ghostwritten policy tracts or memoirs. This impoverishes our politics—historical ignorance and inarticulacy preclude statesmanship. ((But is there any statemanship in England today?))
Ace:
Al Sharpton will interview Rachel Jeantel tonight.
The closed captioning guy just hanged himself. He left this note: “Avenge me.”
Bonus quote — Avatar:
You guys are thinking too small. For that kind of capital, robot catgirl maids could be a reality!
Useful advice …
… should you ever find yourself in a South African jail, from Tom Sharpe:
“In prison they told me: ‘Make friends with the murderers,’” he told Britain’s Sunday Express. “‘Everybody else is afraid of them so if you’re with them the others leave you alone.’ That’s what I did. Good tip.”
Tom Sharpe, one of the funniest writers of the 20th century, died last month.
Born in 1928, he was the son of a British Nazi:
Years later, when Tom was a famous writer, he was invited to address a Jewish women’s group and began his talk with the memorable line, “You have probably not often been addressed by someone whose chief ambition, at age 15, was to be an SS officer.” Tom’s dad was the Ealing and Acton member of The Link (a pro-Nazi organisation) and also a member of the Nordic League. A loyal Nazi, he said he hated Jews “in the sense that I hate all corruption”. When the war began the family was on the run from the Special Branch, moving house time after time, always haunted by the fear that the minister would be consigned to the Isle of Man along with other Mosleyites. Tom’s father died in 1944, just too soon to see the film of Auschwitz, Buchenwald and Belsen which utterly devastated Tom; he realised that everything he had been brought up to believe had been wrong and that Nazism was pure evil.
Feline stroke of the week
Matthew Walther on Dan Savage:
Savage has probably written more books than he’s read, so one cannot fully fault him for his prose’s shortcomings.
Exploding princesses, etc.
(Via Darwin Catholic.)
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In my ballet training, I had no enemy but myself. Especially when I would watch myself in the mirror in the studio and execute my ballet routines, I often envisioned myself as Son-Goku struggling with the enemy. When I would fail, my hair would look darker; when I would triumph over a seemingly impossible task, my hair would appear blonder than it is.
Whenever people watch me dance, I hope they see the character I’m trying to impersonate onstage. I might be the noble prince from Swan Lake or the Prodigal Son; I might be a beggar or a soldier. In reality, I am just a geek owing everything I can do to an ape alien named Son-Goku.
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The Man Who Was Thursday was one of my favorite books years ago. I thought it was a fantasy, but apparently it is one of the most realistic spy novels ever written.
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Presenting George Herriman and Krazy Kat, with appearances by archie and mehitabel.
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Killer trees? Poisons aside, I don’t think so. Killer bromeliads? Perhaps.
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What is the worst Bob Dylan song? I’m tempted to say all of them — Zimmerman, to my ears, has a modest talent for doggerel and none whatsoever for music — but some of his songs are worse than others. I’ll nominate one that’s a bit obscure nowadays (though not obscure enough), “The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest.”
Well, up the stairs ran Frankie Lee
With a soulful bounding leap
And foaming at the mouth
He began to make his midnight creep
For sixteen nights and days he raved
But on the seventeenth he burst
Into the arms of Judas Priest
Which is where he died of thirst
If you perceive anything in the lyrics beyond the clanging rhyme, you need to detox.
Cultural notes
For those who remember Leonard Pinth-Garnell.
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Norman Lebrecht says that The Rite of Spring was “a glorification of primitivism that challenged the values of modern society. Its response was reciprocal violence.” My own theory is that the riot at its premiere was caused by time-traveling aesthetes happy for an opportunity to get rowdy.
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The Locus Science Fiction Foundation bought the rights to R.A. Lafferty‘s writing a couple years ago and is planning to reprint his complete short stories. The first volume is due out early next year, in time for the centenary of his birth. Twenty or so years ago I tried to collect every book by Lafferty in print. Although I found numerous chapbooks and small-press editions, most of his writing was out of reach. The new edition is very welcome, even though the first volume costs $66.
If you’ve never read Lafferty, there are a handful of his stories online:
I’m pleased to observe that I am not the only R.A. Lafferty obsessive around. Andrew Ferguson is reading his way though Lafferty’s stories in order and commenting on them at Continued on Next Rock. See also The Ants of God Are Queer Fish.
Readers of Lafferty are often readers of Gene Wolfe as well. I recently found a couple of weblogs devoted to Wolfe, Silk for Caldé and The Silk and Horn Heresy.
Art and other eyesores
Some fisheye views from this morning’s ride. Above is James Rosati‘s “Tripodal” in downtown Wichita.
Hmmm
Discovered while browsing in Wikipedia:
[Graham] Greene’s film review of Wee Willie Winkie, featuring nine-year-old Shirley Temple, cost the [Night and Day] magazine a lost libel lawsuit. Greene’s review stated that Temple displayed “a dubious coquetry” which appealed to “middle-aged men and clergymen”.[16] It is now considered one of the first criticisms of the sexualisation of children for entertainment.
It may be just as well that he didn’t live to see moe-licious anime.
Quote of the week
Nothing can compensate for a crap script. Not irony, not flamboyant camera movement, not stars, nuthin’. On the other hand, a great script can survive a mediocre director, dull music, uninteresting production design, and even less-than-stellar performances. But you always need a story, and characters you want to see get what they want, or be denied what they want, or discover what they want or where they should go ….
You’ve seen too much cosplay …
… when the first thing you notice in this picture is the old film SLR camera (and also how ugly the tattoos are).