(Pseudoscience, Superstition, and other Confusions of our Time)
-by michael shermer
1997, 2002
Is it falsifiable?
If not, then it ain't science (or even scientific). It's speculation at best, and wishful thinking at worst. Between friends, such fare can be benign or even productive. Unfortunately, in troubled times our overactive imaginations too often take a turn into anti-scientific, anti-humanistic rubbish. Does religion foster attitudes of helplessness or self-loathing? Does belief in psychics prevent people from taking responsibility for themselves? Do these and other unsubstantiated beliefs come between humanity and the one endeavor (science) that leads to true liberation? Michael tries to wrap his mind around the whys and wherefores of all our contemporary bogeymen and dead-end spiritual/intellectual streets.
He calls the ability to dream up wild ideas an evolutionary adaptation, at the heart of our talent for stunning technological and artistic wonders. If we weren't able to invest in off-beat notions more deeply than other animals, we would never have made bicycles or bassoons. But in an imbalanced world, this adaptation can be the noose around our neck. A greedy, violent, self-serving culture currently dominates our species, and studies reveal that the more unstable and fearful a society becomes, the greater the belief in magic (god is a concept by which we measure our pain, indeed).
But the greater question shermer tries to tackle is not why gus and norma normal believe in ghosts and numerology, but why genuinely smart people dine at the untestable trough too. There are long-term studies which show that non-believers are smarter than believers, and this writer himself has taken those results and (rather unapologetically) run with them. Not so fast, says shermer! Brilliant people can embrace hooey as well as, or better than, their dimmer compatriots. Some studies reveal that the relationship between intelligence and belief is orthogonal - in other words, no relationship at all (and with certain beliefs such as the new age movement, smarter people can be MORE susceptible). And smart people can be the devoutest of the devout because of the confirmation bias, our tendency to embrace evidence that substantiates previously existing attitudes (like my reaction to the "believers are dumber" studies), and screen out anything that fails to support us. Thus, a lifetime of small, successive seemingly rational assessments can lead to one grand whopper of irrational belief. And smarter people are better at rationalizing and defending their ideas, once they're invested.
But take heart! There's also evidence that even overly-credulous ninnies know they're being hoodwinked, at least subconsciously. When religious folk were asked to compare why they believe with why they thought others believed, they gave intellectual justifications for themselves, but emotional motivations for others. In other words, "I'm smart, but my idiot friends just need comfort and community".
Shermer, a well-traveled lecturer, debater, and founder of the Skeptics Society, also tackles creationism, near-death experiences, and Holocaust-denial (indeed, you might be advised to skip the chapters on that last one - to 2017 eyes, it's overkill). He delves into the 25 intellectual fallacies that lead people down blind alleys. With easygoing prose, he takes us on an occasionally infuriating but lovely ride.
Friday, March 31, 2017
Monday, March 27, 2017
sir paul's mop
Sigh.
Oh, paul.
What in holy hell happened to your hair??
I say this, mind you, in a world of comb-overs, weaves, implants, straightening, bottle blondes, reddish-brown asians, and whatever life form has taken residence on the donald's head.
A few years back, your hair suddenly appeared a deeper shade of brown than even when you were a twentysomething moptop.
Please, paul, we beg you...tell us it ain't so.
I know, i know, it's nobody's business but your own. Even if you wore seaweed tresses, it's YOUR head and anybody who don't like it can sod off.
Freedom of expression! Respect for one's elders!
Except...
If ever the personal were political, this is it. Have you truly thought about the message you're sending? I know you understand how horribly ageist this society is. Old people are marginalized, demeaned, or made invisible. It's there in most any magazine or movie...OLD IS UGLY. Some kind of "sickness" to be resisted and fought, tooth and nail, until that pathetic day when we finally croak and rid the world of something nobody was comfortable seeing anyway.
Not only that, but you're catering to the fear of death, and fear is something this world very much needs LESS.
And i know...you've been "hitting the bottle" for a long time. Decades, one should think. But it's just so bald-facedly obvious now. It's gone on far too long to be just something some dim-witted female had you do, which you went along with because you wanted to get in her pants and who among us hasn't been there? I wore combat boots and plaid shirts for a few months when i was fourteen. It happens. Maybe you got in the habit, and had no idea how to stop once it occurred to you to do so.
But i know you believe in the notion that age is not to be avoided, but revered. And what about embracing yourself for who you are? Or the idea that older people might have a little wisdom to share...and even if they don't, they should still be venerated, because they've SURVIVED, and most young people have no idea how hard that actually is?
Understand, i'm not one of the haters. I've never once slagged you for what you're not. You're not lennon? No, and he's not YOU. I'm the only macca fan i know who has never even dumped on PRESS TO PLAY. It's one of your better works, and anyone who says otherwise can sit on it. "However Absurd", "Only Love Remains"...are you kidding? Achingly, brilliantly beautiful. "Angry", though a great tune, may be the most myopic, self-righteous thing you ever wrote..but i digress.
The point is, do you remember the album cover? The black and white of you and linda? Do you remember your hair? It was black and whitening, a metaphoric parallel of the photo itself. You looked beautiful, and seemed proud of it. THIS IS WHO WE ARE, the photo gently shouted, and it's fucking gorgeous. If you'll forgive just one more comparison to that lad from Menlove, am i the first person on the planet to realize that the PRESS cover was your TWO VIRGINS? More subtle, but just as politically powerful.
And now, it's hard to look at you. You've become some pathetic pitchman for every plastic "surgeon" or $100 wrinkle cream. You've become something to be explained and pitied. But unlike kenny rogers, it's not too late. Shave it off. Today. Now.
Go back to being a person the world needs.
I love you paul.
Oh, paul.
What in holy hell happened to your hair??
I say this, mind you, in a world of comb-overs, weaves, implants, straightening, bottle blondes, reddish-brown asians, and whatever life form has taken residence on the donald's head.
A few years back, your hair suddenly appeared a deeper shade of brown than even when you were a twentysomething moptop.
Please, paul, we beg you...tell us it ain't so.
I know, i know, it's nobody's business but your own. Even if you wore seaweed tresses, it's YOUR head and anybody who don't like it can sod off.
Freedom of expression! Respect for one's elders!
Except...
If ever the personal were political, this is it. Have you truly thought about the message you're sending? I know you understand how horribly ageist this society is. Old people are marginalized, demeaned, or made invisible. It's there in most any magazine or movie...OLD IS UGLY. Some kind of "sickness" to be resisted and fought, tooth and nail, until that pathetic day when we finally croak and rid the world of something nobody was comfortable seeing anyway.
Not only that, but you're catering to the fear of death, and fear is something this world very much needs LESS.
And i know...you've been "hitting the bottle" for a long time. Decades, one should think. But it's just so bald-facedly obvious now. It's gone on far too long to be just something some dim-witted female had you do, which you went along with because you wanted to get in her pants and who among us hasn't been there? I wore combat boots and plaid shirts for a few months when i was fourteen. It happens. Maybe you got in the habit, and had no idea how to stop once it occurred to you to do so.
But i know you believe in the notion that age is not to be avoided, but revered. And what about embracing yourself for who you are? Or the idea that older people might have a little wisdom to share...and even if they don't, they should still be venerated, because they've SURVIVED, and most young people have no idea how hard that actually is?
Understand, i'm not one of the haters. I've never once slagged you for what you're not. You're not lennon? No, and he's not YOU. I'm the only macca fan i know who has never even dumped on PRESS TO PLAY. It's one of your better works, and anyone who says otherwise can sit on it. "However Absurd", "Only Love Remains"...are you kidding? Achingly, brilliantly beautiful. "Angry", though a great tune, may be the most myopic, self-righteous thing you ever wrote..but i digress.
The point is, do you remember the album cover? The black and white of you and linda? Do you remember your hair? It was black and whitening, a metaphoric parallel of the photo itself. You looked beautiful, and seemed proud of it. THIS IS WHO WE ARE, the photo gently shouted, and it's fucking gorgeous. If you'll forgive just one more comparison to that lad from Menlove, am i the first person on the planet to realize that the PRESS cover was your TWO VIRGINS? More subtle, but just as politically powerful.
And now, it's hard to look at you. You've become some pathetic pitchman for every plastic "surgeon" or $100 wrinkle cream. You've become something to be explained and pitied. But unlike kenny rogers, it's not too late. Shave it off. Today. Now.
Go back to being a person the world needs.
I love you paul.
Saturday, March 25, 2017
dear amanda 6
Dear amanda,
Perhaps i should make this note only outward-directed support and love for who you are (the only tragic aspect of reaching such an elevated place of self-love as where you're headed, is the almost impossible task of finding others who can meet you on that level once you get there). But the initial impetus for this note was a little whimper from my own battered humanity, and perhaps i should honor that, as one of the reasons i walked away when i did was not wanting to set a horrible example in denying my own humanity, as i had done for your sake for so long. Not that i regret any of that...to earn your trust, even a tiny bit, and know that nothing could possibly endanger that trust, denying my humanity was a small price to pay.
But part of the spiritual journey is embracing our humanity, so i ultimately despaired that my one bad example might start overshadowing all the good ones.
So here are the battered thoughts that popped into my head. Did i ever have a chance to throw eric under the bus? Sure. Did i ever have a chance to throw justin under the bus? Absolutely. And in both cases, i had profound selfish reasons for doing so. But i wouldn't do it...not just for nobility, but because it would have been self-defeating. If they were made miserable, you would be miserable, and so on to me...
But it's sad knowing that neither them nor you may ever thank me for not tossing them under said public transport. For fifteen years, i dedicated myself to selflessly loving you and anyone you brought into my life. And for my efforts, i got...tossed under you-know-what.
But it's okay. I always knew what i was getting into. I never expected that there would be personal rewards from loving you. Oh sure, i hoped. But never expected.
And ultimately, every second of self-sacrifice was worth it, when i remember those one or two fleeting moments when you showed me YOU, without (or very nearly without) any walls.
Amazing.
Beautiful.
I won't send this note, as i've no reason to think it would be welcome. You've perhaps already turned me into something far less than what i was. That's understandable. We never see people as they are, but as WE are, and we spend our entire lives shaping our own personal mythologies, molding people and memories into the raw material of our personal narrative, continually creating and re-creating to serve our agenda.
But something very beautiful and elusive happened between us.
I'll always know that, and always be here.
love and love,
wrob
P.S. Is there something faintly pathetic about still harboring beautiful feelings for someone who treated you like you were dipped in shit for three years before you cried uncle? Maybe. It's fucked up, which is pretty much all humanity is capable of these days.
Perhaps i should make this note only outward-directed support and love for who you are (the only tragic aspect of reaching such an elevated place of self-love as where you're headed, is the almost impossible task of finding others who can meet you on that level once you get there). But the initial impetus for this note was a little whimper from my own battered humanity, and perhaps i should honor that, as one of the reasons i walked away when i did was not wanting to set a horrible example in denying my own humanity, as i had done for your sake for so long. Not that i regret any of that...to earn your trust, even a tiny bit, and know that nothing could possibly endanger that trust, denying my humanity was a small price to pay.
But part of the spiritual journey is embracing our humanity, so i ultimately despaired that my one bad example might start overshadowing all the good ones.
So here are the battered thoughts that popped into my head. Did i ever have a chance to throw eric under the bus? Sure. Did i ever have a chance to throw justin under the bus? Absolutely. And in both cases, i had profound selfish reasons for doing so. But i wouldn't do it...not just for nobility, but because it would have been self-defeating. If they were made miserable, you would be miserable, and so on to me...
But it's sad knowing that neither them nor you may ever thank me for not tossing them under said public transport. For fifteen years, i dedicated myself to selflessly loving you and anyone you brought into my life. And for my efforts, i got...tossed under you-know-what.
But it's okay. I always knew what i was getting into. I never expected that there would be personal rewards from loving you. Oh sure, i hoped. But never expected.
And ultimately, every second of self-sacrifice was worth it, when i remember those one or two fleeting moments when you showed me YOU, without (or very nearly without) any walls.
Amazing.
Beautiful.
I won't send this note, as i've no reason to think it would be welcome. You've perhaps already turned me into something far less than what i was. That's understandable. We never see people as they are, but as WE are, and we spend our entire lives shaping our own personal mythologies, molding people and memories into the raw material of our personal narrative, continually creating and re-creating to serve our agenda.
But something very beautiful and elusive happened between us.
I'll always know that, and always be here.
love and love,
wrob
P.S. Is there something faintly pathetic about still harboring beautiful feelings for someone who treated you like you were dipped in shit for three years before you cried uncle? Maybe. It's fucked up, which is pretty much all humanity is capable of these days.
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
all-time greatest TV theme songs
In this era of syndication, they've got an unfair earworm advantage over pop songs...but still, greatness must be acknowledged. The links are to the iconic versions when nothing else will do, but most take you to alternate or cover versions that might blow your little minds...
1) "Barney Miller"
-by jack elliott and allyn ferguson
-performed by chuck berghofer
Those opening bass notes, so iconic, indelible, funky, sublime...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mL3Q8GNSKi4
2) "Cheers"
-by julian williams, gary portnoy, judy hart angelo
-performed by gary portnoy
Has there ever been a theme that more perfectly captured the essence of a show? But which version? The original? 200th episode extended? NBC 75th birthday? This one by foy vance may be better than any...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wzyij-rsXhw
3) "Mission: Impossible"
-by lalo schifrin
Grinding, nasty, and...slinky? Somehow, yes.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWGeRgFa-hI
4) "The Muppet Show"
-by sam pottle and jim henson
The greatest funvitation ever.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLDcV_S-BCI&spfreload=10
5) "The Pink Panther Show"
-by henry mancini
Has there ever been a theme song that almost overshadowed a show this big?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtnNO5_Ao6U
6) "Hill Street Blues"
-by mike post (featuring larry carlton)
How about an absolutely shimmery, funky version by rodney franklin?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J0HPyXKa6io
7) "Star Trek"
-by alexander courage
Where, where, where did alexander come up with this? And since no musician ever soared higher than maynard ferguson... (but be warned, maynard's GALACTICA is possibly the worst sci fi cover ever).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_v1J-kGxXds
8) "Peter Gunn"
-by henry mancini
No cover comes close.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oysMt8iL9UE
9) "M*A*S*H"
-by johnny mandel, mike altman
Let's go with the movie version, which ups the poignancy.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIIqYqtR1lY
10) "The Odd Couple"
-by neal hefti
Well, this is different...rearranged and performed by the composer almost fifty years later, featuring devyn rush.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKFl1EWAZUs
11) "Batman"
-by neal hefti
Get a load of neal postcini.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpWVV8wuM1A
12) "All in the Family"
-by charles strouse, lee adams
How about this cast salute to family viewing hour version? You'll thank me.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvrIltxWnS0
13) "Bonanza"
-by ray evans, jay livingston
An end-of-show version filmed for the pilot, and never aired. When you hear it, you'll understand why.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpUd9KecPa4
14) "The Beverly Hillbillies"
-by paul henning
-performed by jerry scoggins with flatt and scruggs
What, you thought i WOULDN'T pick the weird al version?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMiRGCGIfCg
15) "The Greatest American Hero"
-by mike post
-performed by mike post with joey scarbury and larry carlton
The full studio version.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CpLI1uf2g0A
16) "Law & Order"
-by mike post
What, never heard the ukulele version?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GT23bwUPHpU
17) "Scooby Doo"
-written by david mook, ben raleigh
-performed by larry marks or george a. robertson jr.
Both versions are worthy, but let's go with george:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_C2HJvtRDY
18) "The Big Bang Theory"
-by barenaked ladies
The fuller, geekier version.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8KTA50Z9Z0U
19) "Welcome Back, Kotter"
-by john sebastian
The fuller, harmonicalized version.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZzEzDkeHzI
20) "It's Garry Shandling's Show"
-by joey carbone, alan zweibel, garry shandling
-performed by bill lynch
Wait...the singer didn't write it? Oh garry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqO1HO9VpLo
21) "The Rockford Files"
-by mike post, pete carpenter
Mike post...he's no mancini. Spaced-out synth, folky harmonica, rock god guitar...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hj8V5sRVXGk
21) "What's Happening!!"
-by henry mancini
Henry mancini...he's no mike post. The full mancini...slinkiest organ solo ever?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=22tfSmhqwkQ
1) "Barney Miller"
-by jack elliott and allyn ferguson
-performed by chuck berghofer
Those opening bass notes, so iconic, indelible, funky, sublime...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mL3Q8GNSKi4
2) "Cheers"
-by julian williams, gary portnoy, judy hart angelo
-performed by gary portnoy
Has there ever been a theme that more perfectly captured the essence of a show? But which version? The original? 200th episode extended? NBC 75th birthday? This one by foy vance may be better than any...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wzyij-rsXhw
3) "Mission: Impossible"
-by lalo schifrin
Grinding, nasty, and...slinky? Somehow, yes.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWGeRgFa-hI
4) "The Muppet Show"
-by sam pottle and jim henson
The greatest funvitation ever.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLDcV_S-BCI&spfreload=10
5) "The Pink Panther Show"
-by henry mancini
Has there ever been a theme song that almost overshadowed a show this big?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtnNO5_Ao6U
6) "Hill Street Blues"
-by mike post (featuring larry carlton)
How about an absolutely shimmery, funky version by rodney franklin?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J0HPyXKa6io
7) "Star Trek"
-by alexander courage
Where, where, where did alexander come up with this? And since no musician ever soared higher than maynard ferguson... (but be warned, maynard's GALACTICA is possibly the worst sci fi cover ever).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_v1J-kGxXds
8) "Peter Gunn"
-by henry mancini
No cover comes close.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oysMt8iL9UE
9) "M*A*S*H"
-by johnny mandel, mike altman
Let's go with the movie version, which ups the poignancy.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIIqYqtR1lY
10) "The Odd Couple"
-by neal hefti
Well, this is different...rearranged and performed by the composer almost fifty years later, featuring devyn rush.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKFl1EWAZUs
11) "Batman"
-by neal hefti
Get a load of neal postcini.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpWVV8wuM1A
12) "All in the Family"
-by charles strouse, lee adams
How about this cast salute to family viewing hour version? You'll thank me.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvrIltxWnS0
13) "Bonanza"
-by ray evans, jay livingston
An end-of-show version filmed for the pilot, and never aired. When you hear it, you'll understand why.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpUd9KecPa4
14) "The Beverly Hillbillies"
-by paul henning
-performed by jerry scoggins with flatt and scruggs
What, you thought i WOULDN'T pick the weird al version?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMiRGCGIfCg
15) "The Greatest American Hero"
-by mike post
-performed by mike post with joey scarbury and larry carlton
The full studio version.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CpLI1uf2g0A
16) "Law & Order"
-by mike post
What, never heard the ukulele version?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GT23bwUPHpU
17) "Scooby Doo"
-written by david mook, ben raleigh
-performed by larry marks or george a. robertson jr.
Both versions are worthy, but let's go with george:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_C2HJvtRDY
18) "The Big Bang Theory"
-by barenaked ladies
The fuller, geekier version.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8KTA50Z9Z0U
19) "Welcome Back, Kotter"
-by john sebastian
The fuller, harmonicalized version.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZzEzDkeHzI
20) "It's Garry Shandling's Show"
-by joey carbone, alan zweibel, garry shandling
-performed by bill lynch
Wait...the singer didn't write it? Oh garry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqO1HO9VpLo
21) "The Rockford Files"
-by mike post, pete carpenter
Mike post...he's no mancini. Spaced-out synth, folky harmonica, rock god guitar...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hj8V5sRVXGk
21) "What's Happening!!"
-by henry mancini
Henry mancini...he's no mike post. The full mancini...slinkiest organ solo ever?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=22tfSmhqwkQ
Thursday, March 16, 2017
defanged!
The meadow looks the same...
But it's been gutted. There's no other word for it.
All the most powerful or funny pieces are gone. In data storage, or in my hands as i read them live.
A testament to...selfishness?
Up until now, my literary output has been free for the world to enjoy (or steal, i suppose). Maybe in five or ten years, i'll restore the meadow to its former glory. Bring back all the missing pieces, and the new ones deemed too brilliant for appearance here. In my personal life, i'm about to dive back into a large metropolitan pool, the kind where art can flourish and ripple on a larger scale. If you've been paying attention, you know i'm not convinced this is the best thing for my muse. Myriad are the compromises and corruptions of the marketplace, to say nothing of courting fame, so i'd like to hope that this isn't all just an ego play...i hope it's about maximizing my ability to reach people who are looking for glimmers of hope or comfort...being a voice of sanity in a world where rape and superstitious self-loathing have run amok...selling the hope that we may yet save our species...to say nothing of the world.
It is those things, yes.
But i'm also bone-weary and unprotected in a society where self-interest is the only thing on which one can truly rely. Most of us are far too poor, battered, desensitized, afraid, or overwhelmed to care for others. We only know how to give when we "get". Can i make my way in THIS world, accrue some measure of physical comfort and security, solely on the products of my mind?
Maybe.
So is the naked meadow...plowed? Paved? Should i just pack it in until such a day as complete, free nakedidity may bloom again? Would it be only an exercise in necrophilia to persist? Yes, perhaps not, hopefully not, and hopefully no. But what's possibly left that's worth your attention? Nothing but reviews?? Even the damned poetry's gone! Well, there will still be pop culture commentaries, romantic memoirs, letters, the naked nurse, and occasional tastes of essay or rant or tale that don't measure up...or some that might be of highest quality but are too timely to be of lasting interest. And i may introduce some new regular feature, distilling and encapsulating the most naked experiences of life...the raw material that becomes the finished essays or tales. "Naked day"? "Naked time"?
And what of my output? You may have already noticed a shift - once, it was common for me to have a new posting every two or three days. Heck, who can forget that heady day in 2010 when i had THREE postings in one day?? Ah, youth. Now, i seem to be settling in at one every four days...and even that may drop, once my public speaking moves from occasional to regular.
I may give you a taste once in a while of the titles you're missing - some incentive to hear me perform in person, or find out whether i'm publishing in some more conventional sense, or self-publishing, or e-publishing, or communing with dolphins...for example, here are some recent pieces you won't be reading here.
-Heartsex
-Pick-a-Path
-Pick-a-Path 2
-The Dastardly Drippy Dick!
-Song of the Unfucked
-Faeries and Feminists
-Carnaltruisticking Sexbomb
That last one may be testament to the possibility that i'm better at titles than content. But come on, what poem could ever measure up??
Anyway...
Mine, not yours? Not ours?
I'm out here on my own, the meadow ain't dead, and i love you all.
But it's been gutted. There's no other word for it.
All the most powerful or funny pieces are gone. In data storage, or in my hands as i read them live.
A testament to...selfishness?
Up until now, my literary output has been free for the world to enjoy (or steal, i suppose). Maybe in five or ten years, i'll restore the meadow to its former glory. Bring back all the missing pieces, and the new ones deemed too brilliant for appearance here. In my personal life, i'm about to dive back into a large metropolitan pool, the kind where art can flourish and ripple on a larger scale. If you've been paying attention, you know i'm not convinced this is the best thing for my muse. Myriad are the compromises and corruptions of the marketplace, to say nothing of courting fame, so i'd like to hope that this isn't all just an ego play...i hope it's about maximizing my ability to reach people who are looking for glimmers of hope or comfort...being a voice of sanity in a world where rape and superstitious self-loathing have run amok...selling the hope that we may yet save our species...to say nothing of the world.
It is those things, yes.
But i'm also bone-weary and unprotected in a society where self-interest is the only thing on which one can truly rely. Most of us are far too poor, battered, desensitized, afraid, or overwhelmed to care for others. We only know how to give when we "get". Can i make my way in THIS world, accrue some measure of physical comfort and security, solely on the products of my mind?
Maybe.
So is the naked meadow...plowed? Paved? Should i just pack it in until such a day as complete, free nakedidity may bloom again? Would it be only an exercise in necrophilia to persist? Yes, perhaps not, hopefully not, and hopefully no. But what's possibly left that's worth your attention? Nothing but reviews?? Even the damned poetry's gone! Well, there will still be pop culture commentaries, romantic memoirs, letters, the naked nurse, and occasional tastes of essay or rant or tale that don't measure up...or some that might be of highest quality but are too timely to be of lasting interest. And i may introduce some new regular feature, distilling and encapsulating the most naked experiences of life...the raw material that becomes the finished essays or tales. "Naked day"? "Naked time"?
And what of my output? You may have already noticed a shift - once, it was common for me to have a new posting every two or three days. Heck, who can forget that heady day in 2010 when i had THREE postings in one day?? Ah, youth. Now, i seem to be settling in at one every four days...and even that may drop, once my public speaking moves from occasional to regular.
I may give you a taste once in a while of the titles you're missing - some incentive to hear me perform in person, or find out whether i'm publishing in some more conventional sense, or self-publishing, or e-publishing, or communing with dolphins...for example, here are some recent pieces you won't be reading here.
-Heartsex
-Pick-a-Path
-Pick-a-Path 2
-The Dastardly Drippy Dick!
-Song of the Unfucked
-Faeries and Feminists
-Carnaltruisticking Sexbomb
That last one may be testament to the possibility that i'm better at titles than content. But come on, what poem could ever measure up??
Anyway...
Mine, not yours? Not ours?
I'm out here on my own, the meadow ain't dead, and i love you all.
Sunday, March 12, 2017
"Rehab Reunion"
-bruce hornsby & the noisemakers
2016
I'm not sure i've ever written a bad music review. It just feels so much more productive to acknowledge greatness, and pay mediocrity no mind. Yet there's a bit of a double standard there, as i'll occasionally indulge in a critical slam of some movie or show. Perhaps it's more easy and appropriate (and frankly, sometimes fun) to be disgusted with Hollywood. Couched in the idiom of a more pure universal language, there's an element of music that's harder to hate. And perhaps musical appreciation is ultimately more subjective?
But just as an honestly bad album is no sin, an honest bad review is nonesuch either. So i'll say that i've perhaps never been more disappointed in any album. After the middling LEVITATE, i was ready for a return to greatness. Please understand the love from whence this comes - it's fair to say that there's not a single living artist in whom i place greater anticipation, as hornsby well embodies the pop/jazz balance of my own tastes. When he's good he's lovely, and when he's great he's incomparable, with his mix of hypnotic composition, razor sharp lyrics, and singularly beautiful musicianship.
So what the hell happened? Perhaps it's just my own subjectivity roaring displeasure, as he didn't nail any of the elements that get me revving. Yet i'm almost inclined to start a "bruce is dead" conspiracy theory, as this album feels like a pale imitation of the man's work (when you find out that he DOESN'T PLAY PIANO on a single track, your alarm bells might go off too). I even did a web search for "hornsby hand injury", dreading the worst. But it goes deeper. "Hey Kafka" is the only track that's lyrically interesting...and that more for subject than substance. "Celestial Railroad" is the only track that's musically interesting, and that not nearly enough to offset the mildly insipid sentiment.
Sigh. Oh, halcyon days...
2016
I'm not sure i've ever written a bad music review. It just feels so much more productive to acknowledge greatness, and pay mediocrity no mind. Yet there's a bit of a double standard there, as i'll occasionally indulge in a critical slam of some movie or show. Perhaps it's more easy and appropriate (and frankly, sometimes fun) to be disgusted with Hollywood. Couched in the idiom of a more pure universal language, there's an element of music that's harder to hate. And perhaps musical appreciation is ultimately more subjective?
But just as an honestly bad album is no sin, an honest bad review is nonesuch either. So i'll say that i've perhaps never been more disappointed in any album. After the middling LEVITATE, i was ready for a return to greatness. Please understand the love from whence this comes - it's fair to say that there's not a single living artist in whom i place greater anticipation, as hornsby well embodies the pop/jazz balance of my own tastes. When he's good he's lovely, and when he's great he's incomparable, with his mix of hypnotic composition, razor sharp lyrics, and singularly beautiful musicianship.
So what the hell happened? Perhaps it's just my own subjectivity roaring displeasure, as he didn't nail any of the elements that get me revving. Yet i'm almost inclined to start a "bruce is dead" conspiracy theory, as this album feels like a pale imitation of the man's work (when you find out that he DOESN'T PLAY PIANO on a single track, your alarm bells might go off too). I even did a web search for "hornsby hand injury", dreading the worst. But it goes deeper. "Hey Kafka" is the only track that's lyrically interesting...and that more for subject than substance. "Celestial Railroad" is the only track that's musically interesting, and that not nearly enough to offset the mildly insipid sentiment.
Sigh. Oh, halcyon days...
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
three wild moments
UN MOMENT D'AGAREMENT (ONE WILD MOMENT)
-directed and written by claude berri
1977
BLAME IT ON RIO
-directed by stanley donen
1984
UN MOMENT D'AGAREMENT
-directed by jean-francois richet
2015
My favorite french film has always been 1977's "Un moment d'agarement", a tender, poignantly funny look at a middle-aged man having an affair with his best friend's under-aged daughter. The backdrop is a beach holiday for two men and their teenagers. Pierre (jean-pierre marielle - URANUS, THE DA VINCI CODE) regrets the affair as soon as it happens, and tries to extricate himself from her declarations of love while coping with his friend's insistence that he help find the mystery cad who used and abandoned his daughter. The film is a gentle but so, so real look at human desire and hypocrisy. Its only weakness is (of course) patriarchal double standards, as we see an enraged father try to control and deny his daughter's sexuality...but all that is profoundly offset by the incredible humanity agnes sorral (THE OGRE, I LOVE YOU) invests into her part. Berri refuses to moralize - the lovers face each other in the final scene, and as the credits roll the audience has no idea where they will go.
1984's "Blame It On Rio" is one of the few Hollywood adaptations to shine as brightly as the original, because they didn't even try to capture the same flavor, instead creating something much more akin to a bedroom comedy, which hilariously follows the father and his miserable accomplice as they chase the "unknown" lech. Donen found the perfect writers (charlie peters and larry gelbart) and perfect cast, led by michael caine (ZULU, THE MUPPET CHRISTMAS CAROL) and joseph bologna (MY FAVORITE YEAR, JERSEY GIRL). Valerie harper (RHODA, VALERIE) plays caine's estranged wife, and demi moore (G.I. JANE, BEAVIS AND BUTT-HEAD DO AMERICA) his daughter - you can take the opportunity to smile or cry as you see the beautiful breasts nature gave demi, which would soon be mutilated by the surgeon's knife. Caine has never been better, and michelle johnson (GUNG HO, DEATH BECOMES HER) is also perfect as the smitten teen.
Perfect, but...johnson was also a sexbomb who was eighteen playing sixteen, which de-toothed the humanity and poignancy of the original. Soulless Hollywood strikes again! Which brings us to the 2015 re-remake, back in the hands of the french. Sadly, you might be justified in wondering whether french cinema now sucks as much as the yank stuff. The film stars vincent cassel (IRREVERSIBLE, BLACK SWAN) and lola le lann, who are wonderful...but once again we have a sexbomb teen playing a younger part, and on top of that, vincent looks so much like a movie star that the combination hijacks any deeper meaning, as the audience ends up just wanting these unrelateably handsome people to fuck already. You're a fine actor, vincent - you couldn't have grown a beer belly maybe? The ending also feels too easy, as laurent's own teen-angsty daughter forgets her outrage, and louna's father forgives his friend...which one might chalk up to a more enlightened european sensibility IF we hadn't spent an hour watching the man boil with homicidal rage toward the "despoiler". It all feels like such an opportunity lost. Couldn't we have tossed the patriarchal, sexually self-loathing overtones out the window? With apologies to THE READER and TADPOLE (but not many, as that fifteen year-old was twenty-three), isn't it long past time for a movie about a non-tragic affair between a teenage male and an over-forty woman?
Anyway, the first two would make a delectable double feature. One of the funniest, sweetest connections is the lightning strike at the exact same moment in each film. Wonderful.
-directed and written by claude berri
1977
BLAME IT ON RIO
-directed by stanley donen
1984
UN MOMENT D'AGAREMENT
-directed by jean-francois richet
2015
My favorite french film has always been 1977's "Un moment d'agarement", a tender, poignantly funny look at a middle-aged man having an affair with his best friend's under-aged daughter. The backdrop is a beach holiday for two men and their teenagers. Pierre (jean-pierre marielle - URANUS, THE DA VINCI CODE) regrets the affair as soon as it happens, and tries to extricate himself from her declarations of love while coping with his friend's insistence that he help find the mystery cad who used and abandoned his daughter. The film is a gentle but so, so real look at human desire and hypocrisy. Its only weakness is (of course) patriarchal double standards, as we see an enraged father try to control and deny his daughter's sexuality...but all that is profoundly offset by the incredible humanity agnes sorral (THE OGRE, I LOVE YOU) invests into her part. Berri refuses to moralize - the lovers face each other in the final scene, and as the credits roll the audience has no idea where they will go.
1984's "Blame It On Rio" is one of the few Hollywood adaptations to shine as brightly as the original, because they didn't even try to capture the same flavor, instead creating something much more akin to a bedroom comedy, which hilariously follows the father and his miserable accomplice as they chase the "unknown" lech. Donen found the perfect writers (charlie peters and larry gelbart) and perfect cast, led by michael caine (ZULU, THE MUPPET CHRISTMAS CAROL) and joseph bologna (MY FAVORITE YEAR, JERSEY GIRL). Valerie harper (RHODA, VALERIE) plays caine's estranged wife, and demi moore (G.I. JANE, BEAVIS AND BUTT-HEAD DO AMERICA) his daughter - you can take the opportunity to smile or cry as you see the beautiful breasts nature gave demi, which would soon be mutilated by the surgeon's knife. Caine has never been better, and michelle johnson (GUNG HO, DEATH BECOMES HER) is also perfect as the smitten teen.
Perfect, but...johnson was also a sexbomb who was eighteen playing sixteen, which de-toothed the humanity and poignancy of the original. Soulless Hollywood strikes again! Which brings us to the 2015 re-remake, back in the hands of the french. Sadly, you might be justified in wondering whether french cinema now sucks as much as the yank stuff. The film stars vincent cassel (IRREVERSIBLE, BLACK SWAN) and lola le lann, who are wonderful...but once again we have a sexbomb teen playing a younger part, and on top of that, vincent looks so much like a movie star that the combination hijacks any deeper meaning, as the audience ends up just wanting these unrelateably handsome people to fuck already. You're a fine actor, vincent - you couldn't have grown a beer belly maybe? The ending also feels too easy, as laurent's own teen-angsty daughter forgets her outrage, and louna's father forgives his friend...which one might chalk up to a more enlightened european sensibility IF we hadn't spent an hour watching the man boil with homicidal rage toward the "despoiler". It all feels like such an opportunity lost. Couldn't we have tossed the patriarchal, sexually self-loathing overtones out the window? With apologies to THE READER and TADPOLE (but not many, as that fifteen year-old was twenty-three), isn't it long past time for a movie about a non-tragic affair between a teenage male and an over-forty woman?
Anyway, the first two would make a delectable double feature. One of the funniest, sweetest connections is the lightning strike at the exact same moment in each film. Wonderful.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)