.Truth In Ten Minutes, Forty Two Seconds.
For anyone needing clarification why US military action in the Middle East and elsewhere is immoral, illegal, and simply wrong, I've found no stronger statement than the following video.
.Pure Pop Magic.
Dent May is a singer from Mississippi. Instead of wailing the blues, he croons pop. Instead of slide guitar, he strums a ukulele. His vocal style recalls Elvis Costello, while his lyrics are simultaneously funny and heartfelt, much like the work of John Prine. Musically, his melodies are similar to the very best of Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys. Combined, these elements add up to an album of great pop music, with "Girls On The Sqaure" being my personal favorite. Do yourself a favor and get a copy of "The Good Feeling Music Of Dent May And His Magnificent Ukulele." You'll be glad you did.
.New Photo Gallery: Savannah/Tybee Island.
With North Georgia getting snow and icy conditions virtually every week, my wife and I decided a few days in more hospitable weather would lift our spirits. Indeed, it did, and a photo gallery was born. Find it here.
.Me & The CWG.
Being a writer/procrastinator, this week I joined the Chattanooga Writers Guild after sitting in on their monthly meeting. This was the first time I'd sat in a room composed strictly of fellow writers and the experience was certainly interesting. I'm looking forward to next month's meeting already.
.Anatomy Of A Photo: Winter Wagon.
A fallen tree, a red wagon, shadows on snow and leaves. A reminder, perhaps, of some long-ago childhood, of a time when play and wonder took priority over more practical concerns. A time for dreams, a time when snow was seen as something magical, something more than inclement weather.
.Great Scenes: A Scanner Darkly.
Freck Suicide Narrator:
Charles Freck, becoming progressively more and more depressed by what was happening around him, decided, finally, to off himself. There was no
problem in the circles where he hung out in putting an end to yourself. You just bought a large quantity of downers and took them with some
cheap wine. The planning part had to do with the artifacts he wanted found on him by later archeologists. He had spent several days
deciding, much longer than he had spent deciding to kill himself. He would be found lying on his back, on his bed, with a copy of Ayn Rand's
The Fountainhead and an unfinished letter to Exxon, protesting the cancellation of his gas credit card. That way, he would indite the
system, and achieve something by his death, over and above what the death itself achieved. At the last moment, he changed his mind on a
decisive issue and decided to drink the pills with a connoisseur wine, instead of Ripple or Thunderbird. So he set off on one last drive, over
to Tiny's Liquors, which specialized in fine wines, and bought a bottle of 2001 Azalea Springs Merlot, which set him back almost seventy
dollars. Back home again, he uncorked the wine, let it breathe, drank a few glasses of it, tried to think of something meaningful but could
not, and then, with a glass of Merlot, gulped down all the pills at once. However, he had been burned. Instead of quietly suffocating,
Charles Freck began to hallucinate. The next thing he knew, a creature from between dimensions was standing beside his bed, looking down at
him disapprovingly.
Freck:
You gonna read me my sins?
[Creature nods]
Freck:
Eh, it's gonna take a hundred thousand hours.
Creature:
Your sins will be read to you ceaselessly, in shifts, throughout eternity. The list will never end.
Creature:
[starts reading] "The Sins of Freck"
Freck Suicide Narrator:
Charles Freck wished he could take back the last half hour of his life.
Creature:
[Creature continues to read]
"... theft of fingernail clippers...” "... you did knowingly and with malice...” "... punched your baby sister, Evelyn...” "... December, theft of Christmas presents...” "... one billion lies...”
Freck Suicide Narrator:
One thousand years later, they had reached the sixth grade, the year he had discovered masturbation.
Creature:
[Creature continues to read] "... November fourteenth, Percodan... Vicodin... Cocaine...”
Freck Suicide Narrator:
Charles Freck thought, "At least I got a good wine."
.Giants At Rest.
It was a tough week for American letters with the passing of author JD Salinger and historian Howard Zinn. Coming from remarkably different backgrounds, each influenced the writing with "The Catcher In The Rye" and "A People's History Of The United States" respectively and leave a lasting impression on the craft of writing.
.Is America Ungovernable?.
My opinion is "yes," but I'm rather jaded. This Newsweek article suggests so, and even offers a few hints as to how to correct the problem. In a nutshell: Democrats, grow a spine. Republicans, grow up.
.New Photo Gallery: Snow, 2010
Early January, 2010 saw Georgia in the grip of freezing weather. The photos in the new gallery were taken in my back yard. Find them here.
.Reading, A Love Story.
As detailed on another page on this site, reading is something I'm passionate about. Several months ago I decided to give e-reading a try and found it to be most convenient. After purchasing a Palm PDA off eBay, I downloaded a number of free books and have since purchased a few. This allows for a library that fits in a pocket, making lunch breaks at work all the more enjoyable.
.Online Options.
As a user of the Celtx screenwriting suite for several years, I've grown to appreciate the growth of the program from a simple editor to a powerful pre-production solution. However, I've recently discovered to very interesting programs, Zhura and Five Sprockets. Both are web-based editors, meaning a registered user can log in from virtually any computer and edit a screenplay. Also, each allows for sharing and collaboration, and a user can export to PDF and other file formats. I've only begun to scratch the surface of these programs but each is impressive, Five Sprockets particularly so.
Update: after using both for a few days, my clear favorite is Five Sprockets, as it is a more complete writing solution, allowing writing of screenplays, novels, etc. However, a bug in the software prevents a project that has pieces copied & pasted from exporting as a PDF. All new projects will be done on Five Sprockets, with the existing works being handled by Zhura. Zhura is an excellent implementation of a great idea; however, it is covered with advertisements and paid membership is the only way to avoid the ads. Five Sprockets is ad-free, highly capable but with a few quirks, and the home of my future projects.
.Fair Dinkum Tucker!.
A day with the girls at Zoo Atlanta ended very well for this former Aussie, as we had lunch at The Australian Bakery Cafe. Owned by Aussie expats with a near madness for authentic Aussie food, the Bakery is a step out of time and space. Meat pies, sausage rolls, savory pies of every possible kind. Not to be forgotten, cookies, biscuits and cakes are available as well. For me, it was a trip back to Western Sydney and it's many bakeries and luncheries, places I'd visit with friends hungry for a good bite to eat and some laughs. I miss those days and those friends dearly, and the short time at a bakery in Atlanta was a sweet reminder of absent friends.
.Murdering My Darlings.
Fear not, the girls are safe.
The darlings I refer to are a number of short stories I'm revising and self-editing before another round of submissions. The murder reference is to a quote, attributed to a number of sources, advising writers to edit out all the overwritten passages and great detail we write into our stories, to trim away the fat, to get to the heart of the story with clear, concise language. This isn't always easy and certainly feels like a dreaded chore, while smacking of second guessing your muse. Nevertheless, good advice it is, regardless of how drudging and painful it may be to follow.
.Dando And Parsons.
As I (and countless others) have written before, Gram Parsons left a huge musical legacy for a man who died an early death. While many have emulated his style, no one comes closer than Evan Dando, both with The Lemonheads and as a solo performer. The career of Dando has more than a few parallels with the career of Parsons, including being "the next big thing" while not quite making it. The Lemonheads' music was fun three chord rock during the Seattle grunge era, when everyone hated themselves and wanted to die. Thus, Dando's lyrics were often criticized for being childlike by people who missed the point entirely. Tho popular in the early to mid 90s, the Lemonheads never reached superstar status, in much the same way Parsons' work with the Flying Burrito Brothers and as a solo artist never seemed to get off the ground.
The parallels don't end with great music greeted with less than stellar receptions. Both are legendary substance users, with Parsons dying at 26 from tequila and downers, while Dando admitted to using crack cocaine. Both musicians sang duets with very talented women, Emmylou Harris in the case of Parsons and Juliana Hatfield with Dando.
Is Evan Dando the Gram Parsons of his generation? Perhaps so. And while Gram left us far too young, Dando has continued to make great music almost in spite of himself. May he long continue.
.Who Is This Man?.
In an unusual case study of the human psyche, hundreds of people around the world claim to dream of a stranger who speaks to them in their dreams. The interesting part is they all describe the same man and refer to him as "this man." There is now a website devoted to the phenomenon, offering a history of This Man, theories regarding who he is, stories of dreams and more. Visit thisman.org to learn more.
.Faulkner, As Relevant Today As Ever.
Even a liar can be scared into telling the truth, same as an honest man can be tortured into telling a lie.
Light in August, (1932).In Praise Of Used Book Stores.
Regardless of the city or town I'm in, one of my favorite destinations is the local used book store. While often perceived as simply a place for the budget conscious to find cheap books, I've noticed that there appears to be a subculture of people who frequent them. More than bargain hunters, a good many patrons are seeking the rare, the unusual, the out-of-print. I am one of those people. In the early 1990s, I found myself perusing the aisles of a used book store in Chattanooga, looking for nothing in particular, altho I'd developed an interest in signed books. In the poetry section, I noticed a small, nondescript paperback. Looking inside, I found the author had inscribed a note and signature to whom I must assume was the original purchaser. The book went home with me that evening, becoming the first of my collection of signed books and the start of a pursuit that interests me to this day.
While Chattanooga, TN is home to the largest used book store I've seen (and visit regularly), I greatly admire stores of a smaller scale, most often staffed by a lone clerk who is quite often reading between purchases. You've probably encountered the type: a polite greeting upon entry, with "let me know if I can help you" added for the sake of politeness before returning to their own reading. To me, this is perfect, for if I need help, I'll ask, otherwise leave me free to explore. The epitome of such a place and person is a small book store in Beaufort, South Carolina, where my wife purchased a signed copy of Pat Conroy's "The Prince Of Tides."
.Photo Gallery: Hiwassee River.
A new photo gallery has been added, one that features photos from the Hiwassee River in Tennessee. The river has been a muse for my camera for many long years and I hope to add regularly to this album.
.In Memorium: Jim Carroll.
Jim Carroll, poet, songwriter and singer, has passed at the age of 60 of a suspected heart attack while at his writing desk. As a writer, Carroll is best remembered for "The Basketball Diaries," his biographical tale of going from a promising high school basketball player to heroin addiction. A film adaptation released in the 90s was well received by critics and starred Leonardo DiCaprio as Carroll and Carroll as an elder junkie. As a singer, Carroll's best known song was "People Who Died," a piece memorializing a number of Carroll's friends who'd died young, foolishly, or both.
Carroll's influence on poetry and music is immense. As a writer, he could take the mundane and turn it into something hilarious; as a musician, his influence on the early punk rock scene is as great as that of Lou Reed or Patti Smith. With his passing, music and literature have lost a unique individual of great passion and ability.
.Orwell On Town Hall Protesters.
From "1984", a description of the character Julia (and those like her), which seems eerily familiar to a segment of today's population:
She knew when to cheer and when to boo, and that was all one needed... Talking to her, he realized how easy it was to present an appearance of orthodoxy while having no grasp whatever of what orthodoxy meant. In a way, the worldview of the Party imposed itself most successfully on people incapable of understanding it. They could be made to accept the most flagrant violations of reality, because they never fully grasped the enormity of what was demanded of them, and were not sufficiently interested in public events to notice what was happening. By lack of understanding they remained sane. They simply swallowed everything, and what was swallowed did them no harm, because it left no residue behind, just as a grain of corn will pass undigested through the body of a bird.
This well describes anyone who protests against public healthcare while receiving Medicare and/or Medicaid, or one who believes waterboarding isn't torture, or one who believes Iraq was somehow involved with 9/11, etc. etc. etc.
.Beaten To The Punch.
Regular visitors to this page know that I am a huge fan of Kiko's House, the blog of Philadelphia journalist Shaun Mullen. I'd been mulling over the idea of reviewing a favorite Pink Floyd album, 1971's Meddle, when I discovered Shaun had done just that over the weekend. The review can be read here and is far more thorough than anything I would have written.
So, onto something I can add: while many know of the "Dark Side Of The Rainbow," the supposed synching of the Dark Side Of The Moon album to the film The Wizard Of Oz, relatively few know that there are two songs on Meddle that are said to synch with films. The first track, "One Of These Days," is said to synch with the final scene of the film Apocalypse Now. When viewed in synch to the music, the tribal people seem to dance to the rhythm of the song, Captain Willard stands with knife in hand in time to the song's only vocals ("One of these days, I'm going to cut you into little pieces"), and the song fades out during Colonel Kurtz' famous "horror". The final track of the album, "Echoes," is said to have been written for the Stanley Kubrick film "2001: A Space Odyssey" but was unfinished at the time of the film's completion. Never letting a good idea go to waste, the band recorded and released it themselves. Jay Weidner has put the two pieces together for viewing; see for yourself!
.Anatomy Of A Photo: Wicked Grin.
The landscape of the southeastern United States is dotted with remnants of homes no longer standing. These remnants are the strongest, most durable part of a home, the brick or stone fireplace and chimney. While driving along a quiet backroad to photograph just such a chimney, you pull onto the shoulder of the road and climb over an old gate. From the corner of your eye, you see it lurking at you: a garish face, a wicked grin. But this is neither human nor animal, it is a sawn log that has rotted into a twisted grimace reminiscent of something from a Tim Burton film. You find it irresistable and photograph it before moving on to the chimney and the photo essay you plan to do on them. Nevertheless, Wicked Grin proves to be a fun and popular photo.
.Attention: All TV Junkies.
.Places And Names.
In the American mindscape, events and the locations at which they occur are often so entertwined that the mention of a particular location triggers a thought of an event that occured at the location in question. I don't know if the typical Englishman of 1415 and later years referred to the battle of Agincourt as simply "Agincourt" until generations passed and people needed to be reminded of the fact that a great battle took place there, but I feel quite certain that events in American history will long be remembered and referred to as much by the location at which the event took place as the event itself. I'm in the process of compiling a growing list of such events/places, a part of which is below, in no certain order:
Vietnam, Watergate, Iraq, Woodstock, Camp David, Gettysburg, Whitewater, Ruby Ridge, Waco, Cannes, My Lai, Abu Graib, Bay Of Pigs, Sturgis, Daytona, Talladega, Auschwitz, Chernobyl, Three Mile Island, Love Canal, Wounded Knee, Guantanamo Bay, Normandy, Kent State
.Those Who Forget The Past.
The 35th anniversary of the resignation of Richard Milhous Nixon for his part in the Watergate scandal (and other crimes for which he was pardoned by his successor and former Warren commissioner Gerald Ford, came and went last week with hardly a mention in the media. Ten years ago was quite a different story, as every news channel devoted hours to the event in retrospect. I recall asking an older friend if he'd watched any of the reportage and his reply was "No, I was there for the original segments." After eight years of executive scandal that Nixon could only dream of, it seems no one in America wants to remember the past, be it recent or distant.
.The Clocks Are Striking Thirteen.
The British love of surveillence society continues unabated with new from a Wired article that reveals a plan to move at-risk families to government run compounds featuring 24-hour supervision. The subject line of this post refers to the opening sentence of George Orwell's 1984, a book I read on a more-or-less annual basis, and with each reading I find our world more closely mirrors the world of the book. By controlling language and words, you control the people who use that language and words. And who can precisely define "at-risk"?
.Un-Freakin'-Believable.
Jake Shimabukuro is a ukulele virtuoso. Here he performs "While My Guitar Gently Weeps".
.Anatomy Of A Photo: Gram's Grave, My Pick.
As noted below, the family and I recently took a trip to New Orleans. While there, we made a short trip to the grave site of country-rock pioneer Gram Parsons. After finding the Garden Of Memories cemetary in Jefferson Parrish, I futilely looked for the grave before entering the office to enquire as to its whereabouts. Luckily, the lady I spoke with had made a simple map for finding Gram's grave; she also told me she'd seen him perform with the Flying Burrito Brothers in Los Angeles and still had their first two albums. Thanking her, I left and found the grave rather easily, the bronze marker showing weather wear.
I stood at the site, reading the marker, noticing personal items left by other fans (sea shells, an ear ring, etc.), admiring the large plaque featuring his likeness strumming a guitar. Reaching into a pocket, I slipped out an old guitar pick that I bought more than 20 years ago. Somehow, this pale blue pick, one of a large handful I bought for about one dollar, had followed me through the years, strummed many strings, and was now the last of its lot. I placed it between the thumb and forefinger of the marker; it fit perfectly. A small, personal gesture to a man who, more than 35 years after his death, continues to influence American music.
.New Orleans.
I recently returned from a four day trip to a city I've long wanted to visit: New Orleans. Clear memories of seeing the devastation Katrina wrought while I lived in Sydney, the footage of flooded streets, desperate people on rooftops, white "scavengers" and black "looters" had definitely altered my perception of this great city. I'm pleased to report that while much of the Lower 9th Ward is still a ghost town, much more of the city is thriving. Its people, once brought to their knees by force of nature of governmental inaction, are a kind and generous sort. The French Quarter is alive and kicking 24 hours a day.
The photo gallery can be accessed by the Photo page.
.The Slow Death Of Microsoft Has Begun (Possibly).
Google, perhaps the only tech company with the guts and funding to topple Microsoft from its lofty perch, has announced it will release an operating system built on the Linux kernel and Chrome browser. As a Linux geek, this makes me quite happy, as this move will bring more users into the fold. However, it is not met without some trepidation; Google, the company that wants to store and manage the world's information, could make convicted-monopolist Microsoft look user-friendly without some oversight. Only time will tell how this gambit plays out.
.Death By Letters (Revised).
There have been a number of celebrity deaths in recent days and all have one common denominator: the letter M is the first letter in one of their given names. Allow me to make a list, in no real order:
- Farrah Fawcett (formerly known as Farrah Fawcett Majors) - Actress
- Michael Jackson - Singer
- Karl Malden - Actor
- Ed McMahon- TV Personality
- Billy Mays - Advertising Spokesman
- Marty Allen Klein - Former manager of the Beatles and the Rolling Stones
- Steve McNair - Former NFL football star
- Robert S. McNamara - JFK's Secretary Of Defence and architect of the Vietnam War
While very unusual, this calls to mind another time in which celebrity death and an alphabetical letter were closely entertwined. Between July, 1969, and July 1971, rock music lost four major performers:
- Brian Jones - Founder of the Rolling Stones
- Jimi Hendrix - Guitarist & singer
- Janis Joplin - Singer, Big Brother And The Holding Company
- Jim Morrison - Singer, The Doors
Known at the time as "The Curse Of J," not only did each of the above have the letter J in his or her name, but all died at the age of 27.
Having an M name myself, I'm quite relieved to be lacking celebrity status!
.End Of Season.
The Spring photo gallery is complete - access it from the Photography page. While the number of photos is small, the photos themselves are rather interesting. To my eye, at least.
.The Shaman Of Ramen
It's not often I write about food on this site but today I feel a need for an appreciation. Today's honoree is Momofuku Ando, inventor of the instant noodle. As any artist, musician, bachelor, student, wage slave or impatient cook can tell you, these three minute miracles are the best meal one can get for little money and a bit of boiling water.
.Anatomy Of A Photo: Ruined Lighthouse.
Three hours south of Sydney lies the small fishing village of Huskisson, New South Wales. A small town with one pub, two motels and a small but thriving tourist industry, it is surrounded by national parks, naval installations, and bushland. Further south along the coast of the Tasman Sea one will find Sanctuary Point, an area once targeted for development as a shipping yard, but that was long ago. All that is left of the plan is an old lighthouse situated high above the rocky coast. As time and the elements reclaim the structure, it stands in ruins, forever protected by the national park in which it now resides. In the early hours of the day, with kookaburras laughing and reptiles of all types crawling about, a sense of timelessness overtook this photographer as he raised the camera to eye level and made a photo, one that stands as one of my best pieces of work, a symbol of both ambition and folly.
.Read My Palm.
I've long wanted an ebook reader, as the idea of carrying a library of potentially thousands of books in my shirt pocket is quite appealing. However, the cost of a Kindle from Amazon or Sony's excellent reader ($300-$400) is simply too high for my budget. Instead, I bought a Palm Zire 31 PDA ($60 on ebay, free shipping!), installed the excellent ereader program and am in the process of downloading numerous classics from Project Gutenberg and other sources. For the reader who can overlook the feel of plastic instead of paper (and I know a good many of you exist in spite of the old schoolers' protests) this is a viable, economical way of amassing a huge collection of books. Try it, you might get hooked.
.On The Death Of Dr. Tiller.
Working in a hospital emergency room exposes me to the effects of violence on a near-daily basis, and America has always been a violent place. However, when an abortion doctor is gunned down in church while performing usher duties, one is forced to ponder how much lower can we go? I ran across this article by Sara Robinson that reveals an alternate view of yet another abortion doctor shooting. Pay special attention to the symbolism associated with the location of the attack.
.Kent State, 39 Years On.
May 5th, 1970: Four students were gunned down by National Guard troops during a demonstration against the war in Vietnam. This is one of the defining moments of my parents' generation, but few of them know that Kent State wasn't the only or the first massacre of students in America, by American troops. The first took place on February 8th, 1968, at South Carolina State University, during a protest march against the failure of a bowling alley to racially integrate. The march turned violent, with students throwing objects. A state trooper fired warning shots into the air, causing panic and chaos. When it was all over, three lay dead and twenty seven wounded, the vast majority of them shot in the back.
Should you remember the events of this day, I ask that you remember Henry Smith, Samuel Hammond, and Delano Middleton, whose lives were cut short in South Carolina. And also remember that while Columbine, Virginia Tech and other school shootings are atrocious, we would do well to remember when school shootings began, and by whom.
.We're All Fight Club Now.
Man, I see in Fight Club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see it squandered. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables — slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars, but we won't. We're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.
I haven't commented on the economic crisis because it's so large I can't really get my simple mind around it. Also, it's being covered by far more informed sources. What I will comment on is the reaction to it.
Millions of job losses each month, a stock market in chaos, homes foreclosures, banks failing. Among those job losses are investors who helped build the economy that is now ravaging them. I saw a piece on CNN in which former Wall Street investors are at a job fair. One cried about how she can't find "even a clerical job, because everyone hires supermodels who can type." To those responsible, I say welcome to the world you created, a world that is now rejecting you, like Adam turning on Victor Frankenstein. Worshipping Mammon hasn't gotten you anywhere and now you're begging for jobs you would have scorned 12 months ago. Welcome to the new economy.
Look, the people you are after are the people you depend on. We cook your meals, we haul your trash, we connect your calls, we drive your ambulances. We guard you while you sleep.
We're all fight club, now
.That Synching Feeling.
"We know from our own experience that enough things happen that aren’t the result of signals or planning or communication that we’re aware of, but that are miraculous manifestations, that keep proving it out, that there’s no way to deny it. We're just involved in something that has a very high incidence of synchronicity. You know, the Jungian idea of synchronicity? Well, shit, that's day-to-day reality for us." - Jerry Garcia, musician and singer, Grateful Dead
And for myself as well, it seems. One case for synchronicity is related below in the "Stranger On The Highway" entry. Meaningful coincidence has occurred twice again in recent weeks, with stories too good not to be told.
The first involves a tardy coworker and the sick parent of a friend. Understaffed in the ER I work in, we're juggling personnel between shifts, with some beginning and ending their day earlier than usual. One such clerk was to arrive at 11am but forgot it was her day to come in early, leaving only two clerks to manage the registration of all patients. With no time for lunch, at noon I ran to the cafeteria, grabbed a sandwich and returned to my desk, forgoing my usual 1pm lunch time. As luck (or some other cosmic energy) would have it, the father of a friend arrived in need of emergency care at 1:15pm, and I was able to register the patient and attend to the needs of the family. Had my coworker been on time, I would have been at lunch and perhaps overlooked their presence altogether.
The second happened just today; again, the sick parent of a friend arrives, a friend I'd not seen in over 20 years.I should have seen this one coming, as several other meaningful coincidences had occurred in previous days. One was that my wife discovered the Facebook page of a girl we went to high school with, a girl who at the time was the best friend of the lady in question. Also, I've been hearing a relentless airplay of Wham! songs on the office radio; Wham! had been my friend's favorite group (in her defence, she was young and it was the 80s). So it should have been no surprise when, after registering the patient, I turned to the woman with him and asked "Are you Pam?" and received a positive reply. However, anyone who has experienced synchronicity will tell you you're never prepared for it, as it seems to appear at the most mundane times, filling the experience with depth and meaning. When will the next synch take place? I don't know, but will dilligently report when it occurs.
.Anatomy Of A Photo: Forlorn Angel.
I discovered this near-century old sculpture in a cemetery in Rome, Georgia while exploring the town in the summer of 2008. Instantly stricken by the facial expression carved in stone, I took out my camera, framed precisely, and pressed the shutter button. However, not all went as planned. The shutter lagged, causing the camera to fire as my hands were in motion, resulting in blur. My precisely-composed photo was no longer precise. But upon viewing the capture, I found it much more to my liking than what I originally had in mind. Such is the art of photography; accidents often improve a piece.
.Gallery Update
It's as embryonic as the season for which it is named, but a new photo gallery has been added. Spring has arrived, with more photos to follow as the season progresses.
.Dick, Death, And Meth.
Philip K. Dick was a prolific writer of science fiction, with several of his stories and books having been adapted to film after his death in 1982. One of his better-known works is the book "A Scanner Darkly," which portrays America in the not-too-distant future, an America that has lost the war on drugs and is under total surveillance by government and corporations alike. The drug of choice in this world is Substance D. Substance D is derived from a flower (like heroin), is instantly addictive and has a near 100% recidivism rate (like crystal methamphetamine), and has a street nickname of Death (rhymes with meth) and people have either never tried it or are addicted to it; there is no in between. Meanwhile, the government and corporations are working together to fight a never-ending war on drugs or whatever (like the Bush administration and Blackwater) and paranoia is rampant. Luckily, there is hope: New Path Recovery is a rehab center that stands the best chance of overcoming the Substance D epidemic. However, it is revealed later in the book that New Path grows the flowers that D is derived from, thus supplying the demand that destroys lives while punishing the addicts, who are used as labor on the flower farms (like the CIA providing cocaine for the production of crack, which destroys the lives of users, who are then imprisoned and used as cheap labor).
For a book released in 1977 by an author who died in 1982, This is eerily prescient of our current time and condition. Perhaps Dick saw the writing on the wall long before anyone else, perhaps before the writing appeared...
.Stranger On The Highway.
An interesting thing occurred this weekend. I took my family for a drive in the mountains east of home. While passing through the town of Ellijay, I took a wrong turn and drove several miles out of town in the wrong direction. We pulled into the parking lot of a closed convenience store to check the map and get our bearings. Moments later, a Domino's Pizza car pulls to a stop beside us, the driver bearded and weary. I look over at him and he smiles, gets out of the car, and walks over to mine. Upon rolling down the window, I ask directions, and he replies with simple, direct instructions on how to get back to the highway I need to be on.
Perhaps I'm overly dramatic, but this is a perfect example of the seeker/guru archetype. The wanderer is lost and seeking direction. When the student is ready, the teacher appears. Once the lesson is taught, the teacher fades away, to return again when needed. Whether the pizza guy was a guru is irrelevent, tho I like to think in some way we are all both students and teachers. The point is, this coincidental meeting in the parking lot of a closed store ten miles out of town put me back on the road to home. Isn't that what all great spiritual moments do?
.Quote Of The Day.
From Steve Benen:
Rush Limbaugh is, without ambiguity, rooting for failure. In the midst of an economic crisis, Limbaugh quite openly admitted that if Obama's economic policies are successful, it would undermine the talk-show host's worldview. As such, Limbaugh wants desperately to see more Americans suffer, more workers unemployed, more businesses close up shop. The key here is philosophy -- if government spending can stimulate the economy, as it always does, then the right is wrong. Limbaugh would much prefer a suffering nation than a reevaluation of conservative ideas.
.Wynn Bullock: An Appreciation
I recently purchased a small book of photography by Wynn Bullock. I got much more than expected. Not only did I get a book of photography, I received a whole new perspective on the art of photography. Bullock, considered a master of the art, was 42 years of age when he began making photos after realizing the camera records much more than that which is visible: The medium of photography can record not only what the eyes see, but that which the mind's eye sees as well. The camera is not only an extension of the eye, but of the brain. It can see sharper, farther, nearer, slower, faster than the eye. It can see by invisible light. It can see in the past, present, and future. Instead of using the camera only to reproduce objects, I wanted to use it to make what is invisible to the eye, visible.
This philosophy places Bullock in the company of such photographers as Ed Weston, who approached the art with an almost metaphysical mindset.
That photography is a powerful emotional tool is a foregone conclusion; one need only to look at the impact of photojournalism during a time of war to see that the art can sway public opinion by appealing to the emotional side of the psyche. Bullock sought the mysterious, the hidden, even the whimsical in his work. He succeeded brilliantly.
.My New Normal.
What a difference a month and a day makes. On December 15, 2008, I started a new job as an Emergency Room registration clerk at a local hospital. Orientation lasted two days and covered much of what to expect, with one instructor advising that I'd soon realize a new normal
. While I found the term interesting, I had no idea the implication that was being made.
In the weeks of my employment, I've seen sides of human nature I could hardly fathom before. I've witnessed tragedy accepted with grace and dignity; minor incidents perceived as major catastrophes; ethics stretched thin, professionalism personified. I've grown so accustomed to seeing severed fingers carried in plastic bags that I was surprised to see a patient walk in carrying a bag that did not contain fingers. This job requires more from me than any I'd ever held. By shift's end, I'm exhausted, often heart-broken, but looking forward to the next day. Tho my workdays are fuelled by caffeine and chaos, I've never regretted a moment.
In contrast, January 16, 2009 brought forth a new normal of wonder as I married the woman I've loved since a teen. 22 years after our first kiss, our lives became one in a small ceremony on a chilly, candle-lit evening. With my role as husband came the multifaceted role of stepfather to two wonderful young women. I am a student and a teacher, a listener and a lecturer, a participant and an observer. Our time together is just beginning but we grow as a family with each passing day.
This is my new normal.
.Free At Last.
After failing to find a fix to my wireless networking problems some months ago, I was forced to run Windows. Finally, the developers of the Linux kernel have addressed this problem and corrected it. I'm now running Zenwalk Linux, a variant of Slackware, the oldest and once most popular Linux distribution, and it works flawlessly, far better than Windows Vista ever did. Thank you, Linux community, I no longer have a well equipped but horribly slow computer displaying Not Responding on every program I run!
.More Gram.
"A Song For You," with Emmylou Harris on backing vocals, from the album GP
.Quote Of The Day.
From Lodewijk Asscher, Deputy Mayor of Amsterdam, on the city's plan to lower the number of brothels by half:
We can still have sex and drugs but in a way that shows the city is in control. It will be a place with 200 windows (for prostitutes) and 30 coffee shops, which you can't find anywhere else in the world - very exciting, but also with cultural attractions. And you won't have to be embarrassed to say you came.
.Gram, Phil, and Friendship.
I recently discovered the music of Gram Parsons, the godfather of country rock. Tho little known during his short life (he died of an overdose at the age of 26) and varied career with The Byrds, The Flying Burrito Brothers, and as a solo artist, his influence is profound; it could be said that The Eagles, Jackson Browne, and a good many other acts would never have played a venue larger than a high school stadium.
While Gram left us all too early, what happened immediately after is one of the strangest tales in all of music legend. Gram and friend/manager Phil Kaufman had a pact: whoever died first would be taken into the Joshua Tree desert by the surviving friend and cremated. Upon hearing of the passing of Gram in Room 8 of the Joshua Tree Inn, Kaufman hit the road in a Hearse, stole the body from LAX, drove to the desert and kept his end of the deal.
But enough about the weirdness. Enjoy a short tribute vid to a trailblazing musician, featuring the song "Hot Burrito #1" from The Flying Burrito Brothers' album "The Gilded Palace Of Sin".
.Good News From Mumbai.
From the tales of horror brought on by the November, 2008 attacks in Mumbai, I have a bit of personal good news. When I first heard of violent attacks against hotels in Mumbai, I grew immediately concerned about Rajul Samel, whom I met online 10 years ago this month and have kept a touch and go correspondence with ever since. Rajul lives in Mumbai and works as Environment Officer at the famed Orchid Hotel. Luckily, Rajul was in Singapore when the attacks took place and the Orchid was not a target. A big sigh of relief and good cheers to Rajul and her countrymen as they set about putting life back to normalcy in India.
.From The Crypt.
A recent trip to Barnes & Noble revealed a diamond in the rough: Douglas Keister's Stories In Stone: A Field Guide to Cemetery Symbolism and Iconography. I've long been a cemetery explorer and this guidebook helps to navigate the arcane symbolism of crypts, mausoleums and headstones. Highly illustrated with brilliant photography, this book is highly recommended.
.Quote Of The Day.
From occult conspiracy researcher James Shelby Downard:
"Do not be lulled into believing that just because the deadening American city of dreadful night is so utterly devoid of mystery, so thoroughly flat-footed, sterile and infantile, so burdened with the illusory gloss of baseball-hot dogs-apple-pie-and-Chevrolet, that it exists outside the psycho-sexual domain. The eternal pagan psychodrama is escalated under these modern conditions precisely because sorcery is not what '20th Century man' can accept as real."
.45 Years.
On this day in 1963, the event that sparked the military coup d'état of the United States of America took place in Dallas, Texas. Since then, hardly a day has passed without military action, either overt or covert aggression against a sovereign nation, being carried out by the US armed forces. Political scandal has become commonplace in both parties. Right wing America has sunk to such depths that shouts of "Kill him!" occur at Republican presidential rallies and go unaddressed by the candidates. The Iraq War, an unjust war based on falsified intelligence and sold without question by the media to a fear-addled public, costs $1,000,000,000.00 per day, while fifty-two cents of each federal tax dollar goes to the Pentagon.
Where were you on that day? I was unborn, but the legacy of those who perpetrated the act continues to wreak havoc in the world I inherited. War without end. Surveillance without warrant. Division by race, class, affiliation. Millions have died, but hope is still alive. A powerful focal point for the hope of a nation has been elected to the highest office of the land. However, as we learned in 1963, even the occupant of that office can be killed in public and the murderers go free, to die in their beds or continue to wield influence. We, the people, must remain diligent in the protection of liberty and democracy. President Eisehower tried to tell us but we failed to listen. Now, as one blogger put it, we're all Zapruders now.
.Notes On The Autumn Gallery.
First, I have to thank everyone who complimented the gallery. I felt they were just seven photos; the viewers feel they are so much more. Your kind words sustain me. There are also a number of questions, such as "Who is the girl in the silhouette photo?" and "Why did you put a color photo in an otherwise black & white gallery?" In reply: the girl is a bronze sculpture by Harold Cash, of his muse D'A-Lal. Obsessed with her, he painted, sketched and sculpted literally thousands of pieces of her likeness, with the one in my photo being located outdoors at the Hunter Museum of Art in Chattanooga, TN. Lastly, the vines photo is not a color photo but rather a black & white with shadow and hightlights tweaked lightly and the saturation turned to up 11, causing the many greys to appear as green and brown.
Again, thanks to all who took the time to view and write. I look forward to posting more galleries soon.
.New Photo Gallery.
I've posted a new photo gallery, titled Autumn, 2008 This is the first gallery of new photos to be posted in some time. It felt good to be behind the camera again and I look forward to more photo days in the future. Breaking from tradition, I used the incredibly easy to use Picasa 3 from Google to edit the photos. While the GIMP will always be in my editing toolkit, Picasa is great for everything from quick edits to major projects. Lastly, the gallery was built using a program called Jalbum, a free, easy to use program for assembling photo galleries for the net. Written in Java, Jalbum runs on Windows, Linux, and Macintosh platforms. There's also a community for sharing photos online.
.A Common Sense Revolutionary.
I think I've found a new hero...
Lee Brandenburg, a self-described lifelong independent has founded a great website called The Captive American, which calls for a new "war of independents." This is a website filled with common sense advice on how to deal with the many crises facing the world today. But don't take my word for it, I'll let the man speak for himself:
.Red, Blue, and You.
It's now 10 days since the presidential election and the mainstream media find old habits hard to break. Joe The Plummer (real name Samuel Wurzelbacher) still manages to get airtime, altho what he has to say seems to be a chaotic jumble of conservative talking points from a poorly scribbled crib sheet. Sarah Palin has limped back to Alaska like a wolf thats been struck by a bullet fired from a helicopter. Like Joe, she continues to speak, if what you call the mindless drivel she bleats "speaking." The President-Elect is building his cabinet with former Clinton administration officials, which I find reassuring as he is making good on his promise to help the unemployed. Senator Hillary Clinton is said to be a contender for Secretary Of State, which I find to be a very appropriate role for a highly capable person.
But in a nutshell, nothing is really changing, tho there is potential for great change to come. The problem is in choice. Like giving billions of dollars in financial aid to the very people who wrecked the economy, there are built-in stumbling blocks in the choices of cabinet members, some of whom had less than stellar careers the first time around. And speaking of choice, if you the reader consider yourself Blue or consider yourself Red, maybe you should consider yourself a puppet. The people of America do not need prepackaged identity qualifiers, nor do they need a two-party system (if in fact there are two parties, as they differ so little one could be forgiven for thinking there is but one) which is hopelessly incapable of addressing the many nuances, some subtle and some less so, of 21st century America. People of America, don't just expect more of your public servants and elected officials, because expectations are rarely met. Demand more from these people, and if they fail to deliver, vote them out and give a third party or independent candidate a chance. You deserve better than you've been given.
.Fall In The South.
Autumn has arrived in Georgia; the leaves have changed color, the wind is blowing cool through the hills and valleys, the days grow shorter as winter approaches. This is my favorite time of year.
.Oration, An Art Reborn.
Back in 2005, I made a post titled "Oration, A Dying Art?" in which I stated the following:
Martin Luther King, Jr. Day always brings with it footage of Dr. King delivering a speech or
sermon. King was a brilliant speaker, neither talking down to nor over the heads of his listeners, using direct, articulate language. I still get a lump in my throat when I hear the I've been to the mountaintop
speech. Which brings me to ponder this thought: is great public speach a dying art? One need only look to such dullards as the current occupant of the White House, 10 Downing Street, or Kirribilli House in Australia to see that public officials are sorely lacking in ability to address the people, much less inspire their hearts and minds. This, with a crew of full-time speechwriters to formulate the words for them!
If I've learned anything from the 2008 presidential race, it's that oration is not dead, as evidenced by Barack Obama's simple yet powerful manner of public speaking, altho oration is still endangered, as evidenced by Sarah Palin's erratic, stumbling attempts to answer even simple questions for which she is clearly not willing or prepared to answer.
.An Extraordinary Collection.
As always, Sean at Kikos House has posted a Beautiful Photograph Du Jour. I clicked on it and was taken to Onexposure, an online gallery that features some truly magnificent work.
.A Brilliant Combination.
As my ongoing search for the perfect writing tools continues, I have stumbled upon a tool kit that may be considered "just right". This combination consists of a word processor developed especially for creative writers and is suitable for everything from prose to screenplays, Rough Draft, and the dictionary/thesaurus WordWeb. While not without its intricacies (such as placing header and footer options in the Print menu, whereas most other word processors have them in the Insert menu; a quick trip through the user interface clearly reveals all the necessary functions), Rough Draft is a well-rounded writing program that does a fine job of formatting any manuscript one might want, while saving the file as a universally-accepted Rich Text Format file. WordWeb is a comprehensive program of more than 150,000 words. The brilliance of this combination is that WordWeb integrates into Rough Draft, thus rather than acting as two stand alone programs, both programs work together to smooth the writing process and increase workflow, allowing the writer to concentrate on writing rather than coming to grips with the writing tool. I have coupled this combination with the doPDF printer driver to form a versatile, easy to use lightweight writing suite with dictionary/thesaurus and PDF creation. Highly recommended.
.Blatant Parody Of Political "Controversy".
Who's Hotter? Sarah Palin, Tina Fey, Tina Fey as Sarah Palin, or the porn star in Sarah Palin/Tina Fey glasses?
.On John McCain.
While there seems to be a big to-do about lipstick on pigs and who said it first, there are a few other things about the 2008 Presidential election that have my attention. I won't go deeply into my thoughts on "Would McCain be a good president?" or "Is Sarah Palin qualified to hold the office of VP?" My answer is "No" to both. What I find equally interesting and disturbing is the manner in which John McCain is portrayed in the media. They call him a maverick, yet he voted with Bush on 90% of the bills sent to the Senate; in a nutshell, this isn't how a maverick behaves, it is the behavior of a flunky. He's a friend to the common man, yet doesn't know how many houses he and his wife own, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't know that the dress his wife wore to the Republican National Convention costs $300,000.00. And lastly, his status as a former Vietnam-era POW seems to have elevated him to the rank of saint. But, as Michael Moore has asked, "What's so heroic about being shot down while bombing innocent civilians?" McCain was on his way to bomb a "heavily populated" area of Hanoi when his plane went down (the fifth plane he crashed, which begs the question of why he was still allowed to fly); in other words, he was on his way to commit a war crime. And it wasn't NVA or VC troops that dragged him out and attacked him, it was a number of civilians who did so. My assumption is they were angry about having become victims of terror bombings and saw his arrival as a chance to blow off a little steam, to borrow the words of Rush Limbaugh's excusing of those who committed torture at Abu Grahib.
Can John McCain lead as president? Perhaps so, but more importantly, can Mrs. Palin take the office should McCain lose his next bout with cancer? Anyone thinking the choice of VP is trivial needs only to look at the picture below to have a fuller understanding of the importance of choice of running mate in the 2008 election.
.From The Master.
As mentioned in previous posts, I'm writing a lot lately, having written six short stories in as many weeks and completed a screenplay that lay dormant for over a year, and am now working on notes for 3 more screenplays and a novel. As I am between jobs at the moment, I find the quiet of night to be the most productive time for writing. Spoken in words much better than I can express is a comment from the early 20th Century master of horror:
"At night, when the objective world has slunk back into its cavern and left dreamers to their own, there come inspirations and capabilities impossible at any less magical and quiet hour. No one knows whether or not he is a writer unless he has tried writing at night." - H.P. Lovecraft
.At Long Last.
Sixteen months after beginning, I've finally completed my first screenplay, a short piece titled Table Twelve. The story is a day in the life of a table in a 24 hour diner and the patrons who visit there. The screenplay can be found here.
.In Praise Of Steinbeck.
I visited my old high school last week and while walking through the English department, I noticed a poster of John Steinbeck. Squinting from across the room to read the print, I was taken aback when an elderly lady, the teacher whose room I'd invaded, said "Hello!" I told her the poster had caught my eye and we had a long chat about Steinbeck, his writing, and his time. Needless to say, I'm going through my books, reading the work of a fine writer whose direct, unadorned prose is a study in simplicity of form.
.It Came From Marrs.
Journalist Jim Marrs has released a new book titled Rise Of The Fourth Reich: The Secret Societies That Threaten to Take Over America which documents how the Germans lost World War II but the Nazis appear to have won. Having deeply researched his topic, Marrs details the Nazi elite's escape from justice and into inviting states such as Argentina, Brazil, Spain, Switzerland, and the United States, where their advanced scientific research was highly prized, as was the case of Wernher von Braun, SS member and father of the V1 and V2 rockets that devestated London, who was brought into the US as part of Operation Paperclipto continue his research on rocketry. The main thesis of the book is to show that while Fascism was reportedly defeated in Europe, it is alive and well in the US, something dissidents such as Noam Chomsky and Howard Zinn have written at length about. Marrs, however, delves into specific characteristics of the current US regime with startling conclusions. A must read.
.Put On A Happy Face!.
.Inspiration.
I've found that music plays a huge role in the way I write, with influence coming from all quarters of my collection. While it's not my call to make, I think it possible that someone writing a piece about a medieval or fantasy battle would do well to give Led Zeppelin's Battle Of Evermore a listen; along a similar vein, the song Achilles' Last Stand from the same band would be a good inspiration for someone writing about the Trojan War. If writing a piece set in the South, one has many choices, ranging from roots music of the area such as jazz, blues, country and bluegrass, to moody, evacotive music by the likes of Mazzy Star, whom I find very inspiring. When I write horror, nothing comes close to the music of Siouxsie And The Banshees, whose richly textured music is near perfect for the mood I seek to invoke.
Coming Soon!
I've been writing quite a bit lately. Some gutter-level literature along the lines of Charles Bukowski and some horror, with the two occassionally mixing. As I have submitted for publication, I can't post my works online until after they have been accepted or rejected (such are the perils of "first rights" for submitted work, something I'll go into deeper detail in a later post). Altho I was at first apprehensive about writing horror for fear of being perceived and just another horror writer, as all too many horror and science fiction writers can attest, I am having fun with the genre and was even given the flattering news of one of my stories leaving a sense of "lingering unease" for one reader. I suppose I can't ask for more than that!
.Literature Made Easy.
I recently discovered a new publication on the news stand titled Memoir (and), a sharp, slick literary journal that includes very nice art. Best of all, it is open to submissions, with an Online Submissions Manager giving the task of submitting one's work as simple as logging in and attaching a file.
.Can't Keep A Good Guru Down.
A face I see popping up again and again is that of Terence McKenna, the late ethnobotanist/shamanologist famed for his Time Wave Zerotheory, in which time is fractal and can be plotted using the I Ching. McKenna has been featured in a documentary about a possible world-changing event occurring on December 21, 2012 currently airing on the History Channel,and again in the pages of Fortean Times magazine. This resurgence of interest in one of the most original thinkers of his generation comes as a pleasant surprise. For more about McKenna, you can hear him in his own words by downloading mp3 podcasts available here.
.My Long Year.
Today marks the one year anniversary of my return to America after seven years in Australia. While I'm happy to be home, I will always be grateful to Australia and her people for the amazing experiences I was part and party to. In this turbulent year, I've divorced, made new frineds, lost old friends, felt joy, sorrow, pain, bliss, fear, peacefulness and more in an often rapid change of emotion. I work, own nothing but my clothes and camera, and feel a sense of freedom I hadn't felt in many long years. I'm in a relationship with someone who understands and encourages my creativity, going so far as to critique my work with a sharp eye and quick wit. Each day is a struggle, but a struggle toward lasting happiness.
To those I've hurt, I offer my heartfelt apologies. To those I've neglected, I pledge more of myself to you. To friends real I offer my undying gratitude for seeing me through difficult days. To friends false I offer precisely what you deserve: nothing. In the face of an uncertain future, I stand at the ready, prepared to spring forth from the gate and charge into tomorrow.
.Somewhere In Time.
Bill Joy says "the future doesn't need us"; Ram Dass tells us to "Be Here Now". There should be some solace in these words, that perhaps the concept of tomorrow is a flawed idea, but I feel the future is bright, even in these uncertain times. Perhaps I'm a foolish optimist (I prefer cautious to foolish...) but now is a beautiful moment, one that I hope leads to something equally beautiful in the future.
.Deja Vu (?).
Something I've noticed in recent weeks is how familiar all this feels, as tho we as a collective whole have been here before. Case in point: the assassination of Benazir Bhutto and its eerie parallels with the JFK assassination. Both took place in broad daylight as the victim was shot in the head while riding in a car, both were filmed (with crucial moments of the events obscured or missing from the footage), and both were investigated by a heavily military-based investigation. In other news, Iranian patrol boats are alledged to have behaved aggressively toward US warships; students of recent history will recall that a similar event called the Gulf of Tonkin Incident, in which North Vietnamese patrol boats were alledged to have fired on US warships, sparked the Vietnam War. Meanwhile, Obama is growing more and more Kennedyesque. While watching his speech following the Iowa caucuses, I half expected him to say "And now it's on to Chicago and let's win there." And as ever, GW Bush is banging the war drum. As though two simultaneous wars were not enough, Bush continues to assert Iran is a growing nuclear threat, in light of the recent revelation that its nuclear program was halted several years ago. Iran, it seems, is the new Cuba, or the new Libya, or perhaps even the new Iraq, as if the world needs another third world nation under attack by the sole superpower. If past is prologue and time is cyclical, we are in for interesting days ahead.