Running After My Hat

Ridiculous pursuits, matters solemn and less so

Hello, World

by 13 Comments

An old 1960s TV program called Checkmate featured a striking title sequence: as the credits displayed on-screen, the background showed what appeared as a pool of swirling paint of multiple contrasting colors. (I say “appeared” because in those pre-color television days, the paint actually displayed as shades of gray. You can see it here, in the midst of a bunch of other old shows’ openers.)

It used to fascinate me to watch how each color remained itself, especially at the core of its own smear, but also subtly changed at every point where another color butted up against it. And, of course, that other color also changed…

Regular readers here probably know by now that good friend a/b, which is to say Ashleigh Burrows, is — when not wearing that bloggerly persona — known in real life as Susan “Suzi” Hileman. And that name (at least for readers in the US) will probably set off another wave of associations: Suzi Hileman was one of the most seriously wounded survivors of the Tucson shooting a couple weeks ago. Indeed, she’s the one most in the news lately, as the neighbor who accompanied nine-year-old Christina-Taylor Green to Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords’s meet-and-greet.

Here’s Suzi on last night’s NBC Dateline:

[Read more…]

Share

Book Review: Lolita, by Vladimir Nabokov

by 6 Comments

I’ve (finally!) posted my review of Nabokov’s Lolita, over at The Book Book.

It certainly made for a discomfiting read, on some levels. Anyone with a niece or daughter, as young as the title character or simply once that young — and, I’d bet, any one who herself was once that young — will find in its pages plenty to squirm over.

And yet, there are all those other levels: the annoyingly hard-to-resist charms of the voice of the narrator, the protagonist, Lolita’s stepfather (and abuser) Humbert; the lavish stylistic flourishes; the mounting tensions — leading first to the central “Will he or won’t he?” answer and, later, finally “…will he really kill? kill whom?”

Of course I’m writing here as a guy — a middle-aged guy, at that — and maybe this alone invalidates all my disclaimers to the contrary. But I have to admit that even while being most horrified, I could also feel a little frisson of titillation from time to time. This was especially true early in the book, before the “Will he or won’t be?” question got its (maybe inevitable) answer. It was like inspecting close-up the carapace of what looks from a distance like a beautiful beetle: the ugly hairs and horrible eyes jump out at you, and you almost can’t wait to back off again. It’s a grotesque parody, in a way — a Bruegel‘s-eye-view of infatuation.

(Of course the publisher knows and is quite willing to trade on, to toy with this. Just look at that cover from the book’s 50th-anniversary edition. Do you see the horrors of pedophilia there? I don’t, either.)

Anyway, obviously there’s a lot to feel ambivalent about. If you don’t mind ambivalence and messy morality, love language, and of course haven’t read Lolita, you might want to give it a try. Just don’t be surprised if, like me, you can’t imagine yourself ever reading the book again — and being grateful to have read it once.

[Read more…]

Share

One Fine Day

by 6 Comments

[Video: time-lapse film of an entire year in a wooded area, over “One Fine Day,” by David Byrne and Brian Eno (lyrics in the note at the end of this post)]

From whiskey river:

The Storm

Now through the white orchard my little dog
romps, breaking the new snow
with wild feet.
Running here running there, excited,
hardly able to stop, he leaps, he spins
until the white snow is written upon
in large, exuberant letters,
a long sentence, expressing
the pleasures of the body in this world.

Oh, I could not have said it better
myself.

(Mary Oliver [source])

…and:

Life moves on, whether we act as cowards or heroes. Life has no other discipline to impose, if we would but realize it, than to accept life unquestioningly. Everything we shut our eyes to, everything we run away from, everything we deny, denigrate or despise, serves to defeat us in the end. What seems nasty, painful, evil, can become a source of beauty, joy, and strength, if faced with an open mind. Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it as such. Life is now, every moment, no matter if the world be full of death. Death triumphs only in the service of life.

(Henry Miller [source])
[Read more…]

Share

Real-Life Monologue (Anthropomorphism Edition)

by 15 Comments

[For information about this photo, which doesn’t precisely relate to the post,
see the note at the bottom.]

The scene: A suburban home in northern Florida, USA. He is trying to get the household denizens out the door promptly in the morning. He has walked and scooped up after The Pooch. He has fed The Pooch; He has fed The Cat. He has prepared the snacks/lunches which He and She will need during their respective workdays. The Pooch, at the gate to the kitchen, tosses her paper plate in the air, signaling breakfast done-age and, hence, ordering a second course. He ignores her. He sets out the various daily medications which He and She take. The Pooch barks. He ignores her. He brings the newspaper in. The Pooch noses her empty plate around on the tile floor. He ignores her. He gets His water bottle from the refrigerator. The Pooch barks again.

He (to The Pooch): Jesus Christ, all right already, I hear you! You think you’re the only person in the house?!?

_________________________

About the photo: We have a wet bar in the living room, and after we get home from work at the end of the day one or the other of us will usually go there to make a drink. We stock the bottles of sweet-and-smoky-smelling liquids in a cabinet below the sink, as you can see at the right of this photo. About eight of every ten times we do this, The Pooch comes to her water bowl to drink, as shown (here wearing her red Team Woof hoodie). This completely cracks us up.

Share

Tucson Shooting and a/b

by

No politics or ruminations or jokes or YouTube clips or, well, much of anything to say at this point except to extend best wishes for a speedy recovery to our friend “Ashleigh Burrows,” who styles herself in comments here as “a/b.” She was apparently one of those injured in yesterday’s shooting in Tucson. According to another RAMH favorite, Nance, a/b was hit by three bullets, which did not hit any organs but did shatter her hip. She’s awaiting surgery on Wednesday, as we understand it.

Quite possibly she likewise awaits — almost as eagerly — the arrival of an Internet-connected keyboard, so she can say something pithy about the whole experience.

If you get a chance, stop by at The Burrow and wish her well.

[Thanks again, Nance!]

[Update 2010-01-12: Comments are now closed on this post.]

____________________

P.S. In a slightly not-quite-macabre coincidence, at the time I learned about a/b I’d already begun reading this article at the NY Times — about what happens to your cyberself after your earthly one moves on. May be something to think about, if you haven’t already.

Share

The Fluttering of Things Going ‘Round (and Sometimes Away, and Sometimes Back)

by 1 Comment

[Video: La Fée des Grèves, or The Fairy of the Surf, a 1909 silent film by Louis Feuillade, dubbed “film’s first fairy tale” by the Film: Ab Initio blog]

From whiskey river:

A Blessing For Absence

May you know that absence is full of tender presence
And that nothing is ever lost or forgotten.
May the absences in your life be full of eternal echo
May you sense around you the secret Elsewhere which holds
The presences that have left your life.
May you be generous in your embrace of loss.
May the sore of your grief turn into a well of seamless presence.
May your compassion reach out to the ones we never hear from.
May you have the courage to speak out for the excluded ones.
May you become the gracious and passionate subject of your own life.
May you not disrespect your mystery through brittle words or false belonging.
May you be embraced by God in whom dawn and twilight are one and may your longing inhabit its deepest dreams within the shelter of the Great Belonging.

(John O’Donohue, Eternal Echoes)

…and:

Today on the way home, it snows. Big, soft caressing flakes fall onto our skin like cold moths; the air fills with feathers.

(Margaret Atwood, from Cat’s Eye [source])

…and:

Days begin and end in the dead of night.
They are not shaped long, in the manner
of things which lead to
ends — arrow, road, a person’s life on earth.
They are shaped
round, in the manner of things eternal and stable —
sun, world, God.
Civilization tries to persuade us we are going towards
something, a distant goal. We have forgotten that our only
goal is to
live, to live each and
every day, and that if we live each and
every day, our true goal is achieved. All civilized people
see the day
beginning at dawn or a little after or a long time after or
whatever time their work begins; this they lengthen
according to
their work, during what they call “all day long;” and end it
when they close their eyes. It is they who say
the days are long.
On the contrary, the days are round.

(Jean Giono, from Rondeur Des Jours [source])

[Read more…]

Share

When Bad Writing Throws Down with Good Intentions, Which Wins?

by 4 Comments

Bad Writing, per its production company:

…is a documentary about a wannabe poet who sets off on a quest for answers about writing — bad writing, good writing, and the process in between. What he learns from some leading figures in the literary world will inspire anyone who has ever dreamt of creating art.

Here’s the trailer:

It’s just gone into very limited release, at maybe a half-dozen cities so far. Bet it’s that pesky It Was a Dark & Stormy Night Fan Club keeping it from wider circulation.

This comes courtesy of our friend Marta, over at the fairy tale asylum, who calls it a horror movie. Oh yes.

Share

Books Beyond Books

by 14 Comments

The whole e-books vs. traditional books debate spins crazily about one question: What is a book, anyhow?

Let’s pursue that question a step further: What is a reader?

Science-fiction (etc.) author Cory Doctorow tackles both questions in a very interesting project of his, called With a Little Help. It’s a self-published “book” — an anthology of short fiction — available in a dizzying variety of forms. For starters, he’s selling multiple physical editions of the anthology: paperback and hardcover print editions, and CDs of an audiobook version. He’s taken it a step further, though, by offering With a Little Help in multiple e-book formats (from plain text on up to EPUB, MOBI, and so on) and multiple audiobook formats (MP3, WAV, OGG)… and all the downloads are free.

He’s taking the free-digital-download release further:

The full text of all the stories in this collection is available as free downloads under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike license, meaning that you can copy them and make your own versions, but you can’t make money off them and you have to let others remix your creations. The audiobooks are likewise available as free downloads on the same terms.

I myself am not interested in remixing anything, but I thought you’d enjoy this story, “The Right Book” (read by Neil Gaiman). If you’d like to read along, the text is here (opens in new window/tab). It’s a tale reaching 150 years into the future, giving us a peek into not just how books (or “books”) might be sold, but how the readers (or “readers”) of books may change as well.

[Click Play button to begin listening. While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 17:54 long.]

[audio:03-The_Right_Book_-_Cory_Doctorow_-_With_a_Little_Help.mp3|titles=’The Right Book’|artists=Cory Doctorow (reading: Neil Gaiman)]
Share
Verified by MonsterInsights