Holiday Traffic

At Thanksgiving, we were talking about driving during the Holidays.  It seems people shake their fists at each other and swerve around and slam on their brakes and have definite opinions about how others drive.  But once they get out at their destination, they're fine with letting others walk in front of them, hold the door for others, smile and say hello.

Coyotes and Other Topics Around the Table This Thanksgiving

This year there were eight of us for Thanksgiving dinner, and three more dropped by for a little while.  We talked about specific gravity, coyotes having moved in to Florida and the difference between yams and sweet potatoes.  Then we talked about the foods that are currently seen as miracle cures- that may or may not have been taken off of the "do not eat list" like turmeric, coconut oil, coffee, cinnamon, avocado and pomegranate. I suppose if we made a dish from all of it and ate enough of it, we would be able to fly and erase any bad memories or personal debt.

Christmas Music 2015

I got in the car to go home from work and heard The Carpenters singing about pumpkin pie, Bing Crosy, "I'll Be Home For Christmas" and Amy Grant's "Sleigh Ride" so now I'm ready for all of it.  Since then, Brenda Lee, The Ronettes and Nat King Cole have joined in.

There is something about revisiting music, discovering new versions of familiar songs and hearing a mix of genres that works for me.  When else will I hear orchestras and choirs, country twang and artists from the 50s until today in one playlist?

Jesus and Alexander

Jesus and Alexander

Jesus and Alexander died at thirty-three;
One lived and died for self; one died for you and me.
The Greek died on a throne; the Jew died on a cross;
One’s life triumphed seemed; the other a loss.
One led armies forth; the other walked alone;
One shed a whole world’s blood; the other gave His own.
One won the world in life and lost it all in death;
The other lost His life to win the whole world’s faith.

Jesus and Alexander died at thirty-three;
One died in Babylon; and one on Calvary.
One gained all for self; and one Himself He gave;
One conquered every throne; the other every grave.
The one made himself god; The God made Himself less;
The one lived but to blast; the other but to bless!
When died the Greek, forever fell his throne of swords
But Jesus died to live forever Lord of lords.

Jesus and Alexander died at thirty-three.
The Greek made all men slaves; the Jew made all men free.
One built a throne on blood; the other built on love,
The one was born of earth; the other from above;
One won all this earth, to lose all earth and heaven.
The other gave up all, that all to Him be given.
The Greek forever died; the Jew forever lives;
He loses all who get, and gains all things who gives.

- Anonymous -

Have You Ever...

....wanted to do something that you didn't want to do?

There is some tiny task that I do on my computer every couple days that I really don't want to do.  Yet, I'm disappointed on the days when I don't need to do it.


This is amazing to me.

Why am I ever disappointed about not having to do something that I don't want to do anyway?  The bogglings of the human mind mystify.


Somewhere once a year or so ago, I decided to have my computer automatically back up more often.  It seemed like a good idea.  The same idea is one reason why I have this blog: so if my computer wipes out I have a record of some of the things I was up to at this time- even years later, because it's saved kindly somewhere else with Google's Blogger.

I didn't notice it until several months after I set up the frequent auto-backups.  But now the drive fills up and I need to empty it or my computer gets slow, and then will have some warnings- and who knows what might happen after that- I haven't gotten that far.

The inconvenience is so minor that I haven't researched how to turn the automatic backup back to a more infrequent occurrence, yet I really don't want to have to do it, but when I go to check to see if it needs to be emptied, I feel like I've wasted my time if it doesn't.

I wonder how many tasks there are that we do because we think we should or we have to, that we really don't have to do but that we receive some sort of satisfaction from?  There are probably a lot.  People retire gladfully but then won't admit that they miss working.  People wish for Friday when it would be better to enjoy Monday and Tuesday when they roll around.  There is a satisfaction in doing something; anything, I suppose.

It reminds me of a quote by Elizabeth Taylor.

We need to do something, sometimes.  I don't drink or wear lipstick but there is a mindset of initiative and responsibility that I get an inkling of when I do some little thing that needs to be done.

Civilizations In Ruins

I like the title of the post, but realize that those who don't know about apostrophes; say, those below the age of 28, might think it means "Civilization's in ruins," which is not really what I'm talking about.  I think we are on the downward end of our civilization, yet it's not the end of the world.  Another one or two have already started to form and will rise to pre-eminence with or without me.

As the Christian age comes to a close, I reflect that the problem is that many people are and were confused that an age could be Christian.  The term is as good as any, but people can become Christians and an age never will.

What I'm reflecting on today are the ruins of civilizations long past, that took place in places that are now forests.  Huge monuments in the forests draw my attention almost as much as the pyramids in the desert.  To me, The Jungle Book reflects this idea the best.  There was obviously some huge human accomplishment, but it's been re-conquered by nature.

Here we find the ruins of immense and magnificently decorated public buildings which now stand, far away from any present human habitations, in the depth of the tropical forest.  The forest, like some sylvan boa-constrictor, has literally swallowed them up and is now devouring them at its leisure, prising the fine-hewn close-laid stones apart with its writhing roots and tendrils.

On page 80 in Toynbee/Somervell's A Study Of History, I found this great quote.  It's about the Mayans, but I picture the same process in Southeast Asia, and as having done such a great work that underneath every tropical forest there might be the same things- hidden cities of stone wrecked by the weight of thousands of years of plants.  What's underneath the redwoods, the Amazon, the Congo, etc?

The Food and Swine Festival at Epcot 2015

Thank you for the good times.  It was swill.

I loved walking around Epcot's Food and Swine Festival this year.  I saw more concerts than ever.  It's always surprising to me; the difference between live and recorded music.  I enjoy hearing the best that someone sounds and can be disappointed with a live voice, but Disney did a good job of choosing artists that sound good live.

It was a year I was impressed by voices.

I started early with Wilson Phillips, on whom I posted "The Dream Is Still Alive" earlier in the blog.  Chynna is a trip, as I knew, but I had never seen any of them in person before and it was fun.  She managed to draw attention to herself as true stars do.  She was distracted by a firefly, and seemed delighted with it as if she might want to dust on a little pixie glitter here at "Disneyland" and fly off with it, but she gamely stayed on stage and kept singing after announcing to the crowd that she has ADHD and apologizing that as a California girl she's used to going to Disneyland, not Disney World.  Then she managed to slip in an "Amen!" or two. There was the obligatory problem with the equipment and the joke about getting too close to those trying to re-hook her body mike.  They are real singers, and I'm not sure why I didn't know that, but I apologize for thinking otherwise.  I would like to request some work inspired by harmonies with no instruments.  Just put them in an acoustic chapel somewhere and "Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme" it with some medieval inspired chant and long phrasing and some new inspirational lyrics.  Ladies, I want to hear you revisit some folk tunes or ancient melodies seriously as Simon and Sting do, but I think you can do this in your own way which will surprise us all.  Research song cycles and troubadour ballads and go from there.

Next, I went to see Christopher Cross and I knew from the opening notes of the saxophone that I was home; meaning by that, instantly transported back to listening to the radio when it held the most sway on me somewhere around 1978-82.  The backup singers were great.  And it was nice to be reminded that a singer-songwriter never stops even if radio play isn't current.  I liked the new song and what seems to be a true musician that doesn't do anything to court the audience but lets us in on what he's doing.

The Pointer Sisters were the standout and I went to four shows.  Too bad I have to work to eat and couldn't have made them all.  They are showmen; especially when singing Automatic.  But they are also singers.  I've seen two different lineups and I'd love to see them all on stage together- even the one they kicked out.   Ladies, why not do a gospel album?  They cross genres seamlessly anyway and could go off in many directions- funk, r & b, country.  I think they could do anything.  Why not go into that amazing Gothic chapel with great acoustics (see Wynonna Judd sing How Great Thou Art) after Wilson Phillips gets done with it and see what the new ladies can come up with and see what the veterans can do that's new?

Sugar Ray worked the crowd and sounds good in person.

The S.O.S. band brought me back to the realization that theirs is the type of music I really like.

Tiffany is a real singer too.  I think I was too old and jaded when she was a pop princess to be drawn in by her.  But now that I know she's a real singer I am impressed.  I loved her version of Call Me and think she has a great voice.  It's a good idea to do crowd-pleasers at a place like Epcot, and I'm anxious to see what she does next.  50s music?  70s inspired?  Sure 80s is a great fit, but let's see what else she comes up with. Her biggest hit is a re-working that she truly made her own.  What can she do with some other inspirations?

Jo Dee Messina was my discovery among discoveries this year.  What a voice, what a personality and what a songwriter.  What's in her next act, I don't know but "You go, girl."  The first night she said she had allergies.  You could hear it in her speaking voice but her singing was a-may-zing.  The next night she said she was plain sick.  If she sings like that when she's sick- and again, you could hear it only in the speaking voice....

Boyz II Men: I was looking forward to ya, but didn't get there in time to see much except the back of the standing room only crowd.  You sounded good at some points and I'm sure by the crowd reactions you brought many of them to their knees.

Chaka Khan:  What can I say?  We're destined to meet at another time.  Schedules clashed and although I wanted to, I just couldn't.  Perhaps you would have been too Every Woman for me to handle anyway.  But hopefully there's next year.

Thank you Walk Disney World for giving me more excuses to just be there, walk around the lake, walk over to Boardwalk, walk through the only World's Fair I've seen and eat to the beat in 2015.

Part of the Show

A show has two parts.

Either you're putting on the show or you're part of the audience.

Showmen try to blur the lines and do, but when I'm in an audience I want to sit and watch.

Do you remember when somebody would get in front of us, when we were children, and scream to the group "Good morning!" and no matter what the kids said or how they said it, the person up front would say "I can't hear you," trying to get the group of kids to scream louder?  My patience level was directly affected by how long they kept that up before getting to their subject.

It always bothered me, because I know they could hear us the first time.  And why do I want to sit and listen to somebody who is just going to lie to me?

Last night I was sitting in an audience, and some nice people had kindly set out about 100 chairs in a loose half circle facing the presenter.  I think before the people in the audience arrived, the setup looked nice and adequate.  But those who set up the chairs failed to think that most people attending are bigger around the middle than the space of a chair.  So once the audience started filling up, people were uncomfortably close to one another.  And it started to get hot.  An empty room is at one temperature, and then when it starts to fill up, with bodies crowded in, people started sweating.

A gentleman came over and sat to the left of me and his sleeve brushed mine.  I scooted a bit to the right. The gentleman to the right of me, one seat away, was breathing really loudly and shook my hand hard and way too long.  Again, I'm there to sit and watch, not actually do anything, like meet people.  His perception of being in the audience was different than mine.

The gentleman in front of me seemed to be translating every sentence to the person on his left.  He probably didn't think he was loud.  He wasn't that loud.  But he was speaking about 50 percent of the time while the presenter was speaking and every once in awhile he would turn to speak to the person on his right, who clearly didn't want to talk at all.  I'm pretty sure this bothered many of the people around him, but everyone is different and maybe some people didn't notice.  I wanted to pick him up and walk him outside the door, pick him up by his shirt collar and throw him down the hall.

I did not.


The other day, I was in an auditorium where the seats are bigger, and they are there all the time.  So we didn't have to rely on anyone's judgement that day of how close to seat the seats.  It's a comfortable room. But it's still an audience.  There were two ladies who came in my row and asked me if they could sit there on my right.  The one next to me shook my hand.  Instead of settling down to anonymous silence as I would with, both ladies agreed with the speaker, verbally and loudly, and often. They laughed and commented when there was a joke.  They almost yelled "Oh no!" when the speaker said something designed to make the audience pause.  They groaned in response to the speaker.  They made many verbal assents along with the speaker and one of the ladies was extremely loud.  The lady on my right didn't like it at all.  I don't know who could tell how much I didn't like it, but I tried to endure without giving any sign that I was cringing and having a difficult time concentrating.

The gentleman behind me started to laugh.  He didn't laugh the whole way through, and it didn't seem to be a response whenever the loud lady said anything.  But I figured in another mood I would be laughing so maybe that was why he was.  The loud lady stayed oblivious, as far as I could tell.  I think she lives there.  Her companion, the kind of loud lady, didn't like the fact that the man behind me was laughing.  Maybe she knows that the really loud lady is a nice lady and she's gotten used to her friend being very involved in any story she hears.  So she turned around and looked at him with a look of disapproval almost every time he laughed.  Yet, whenever her friend the loud oblivious lady did something, she would join in.

What I wonder is going through these people's minds?  There are people who can't hear well.  And they tend to speak loudly without knowing that they are.  And there are people who draw attention to themselves on purpose and people who don't realize it but catch almost every eye with their unkempt appearance, or quick gestures or something that stands out about them that they themselves are used to.  And attention itself is a funny thing.  Sometimes someone is doing everything they can to get you to notice and you just don't.

Obvious and oblivious are in the perception of each one of us.

When I give a show, I want people to watch and listen.  When I'm on the other side, in the audience, I want to watch and listen.  But some want to talk all through the movie and probably don't know they're doing it. Some want to provide feedback to the presentation whether there is a real person up there or it's just a screen.  I think about the people growing up with cameras with them at all times.  Taking a picture of something is a different way of apprehending it and so is writing about it.  There is an artifice to being in public and there is another layer of it when describing it.

What is it like to not remember a time when most people had cameras with them?

Some people are more aware of the feelings of those around them than others.  I stand in front of a crowd and see people who look so bored, who come up to me and tell me how great I did.  Did they not notice that I noticed that they kept looking at the clock?  Is it probable that they look at the clock when they're not bored?  Is it likely that if the show has a good end people remember it as being good all the way thorough?  

What was it like to know only about 25 people and to listen around the campfire?  Some campfire attendees were listening to the Iliad and some in other parts of a non-connected world had to settle for a recitation of how many berries somebody found and how many times Junior did something funny that day.  Some campfires had more than one storyteller and started a culture of it that got better and better.  And some people take pictures of what they had for lunch and share it with the world.

Quote from Bergman's Through A Glass Darkly

We draw a magic circle and shut out everything that doesn't agree with our secret games. Each time life breaks the circle, the games turn grey and ridiculous. Then we draw a new circle and build a new defense.

The State of the Church Today

Recently, it was Veteran's Day and I noticed a reticence on the part of some businesses to commemorate it. But at church, a wonderful singer, Sisaundra Lewis, sang the Star-spangled banner so beautifully that I had chill bumps.

There is nothing wrong with thanking veterans, whether or not we would have personally sent them to war or not.  There is nothing wrong with thanking those who are willing to do what I was not.  We don't have to all agree on everything to say thank you.  We don't all have to agree on anything to appreciate one another.

There may be a problem when politics and religion are too close.  But the real problem is that the church isn't enough like the church.  The real problem is that the world and the church are too close.  This is not the world's fault.  Somebody moved.  When you're not close to God, you know who it was that moved.

We who didn't join the military are kept safe by it; so obviously, one doesn't have to participate to benefit, so why should there be any hesitation to thank someone for doing what they think is right- even if I don't think it's right; or even when I do?

Likewise, we here all benefit from politics and taxes.  They don't spend the money the way I would, but I drive on the roads that are provided and use the water that is brought to my house and watch the entertainment and buy the products I choose to buy.  We participate in the world.  We are in the world and we don't think, like Baptists before us, that we should be away from the cities and away from the government and away from the things we don't like.  Somewhere along the way, we got to thinking that if we like it we should have it.

If I remember correctly, Clinton and Gore were both Baptists and no one was more unhappy about them winning than the Baptists.  It used to be that Baptists felt they should not be in the middle of everything. Most of them felt they should not hang out at court, if there was a king, or vote if that was an option.  Whatever government was in power was seen as something to submit to, but not participate in.  Give to Caesar what is his, but don't try to become one.

God is not in the war business.  And God is not in the politics business.  God has used war and politics in this world though, but I don't like the all or nothing thinking that whatever the military does is right or whatever the military does is wrong.  This thinking has recently come to light with the police.  We have a problem with authority in general, and this means we have a problem with God.

I am not saying that all police are right, or all parents are right or that all bosses are right.  What I am saying is that these authority figures are not automatically wrong.  And we should basically follow authority.  It's basic.  It's not absolute.  I know there are times when revolutions happened and good came out of them.  I know there are times when I quit a job rather than submit to a boss- but in general, I just don't want to do what somebody in authority tells me to do.  And this is wrong.  It probably is better to look for another job than to complain about your boss.  It's probably better to do anything or nothing than it is to complain.

In school, I would do whatever the teacher wanted in order to get a grade.  I even changed majors once because my teacher correctly pinpointed what it would take to get me to make that decision.  I felt I had no choice.  But I did have a choice.  I could have received the grade she threatened.  I could have taken it and rested in the knowledge that I earned it and then decided to work harder, or to change later when and if I wanted to change majors.  But I did something important, not for her and not for me; but for a letter on a piece of paper.  There is something about submission that I just don't like, but I was okay with it when I could earn an A.

Today, Dr. J. Vernon McGee addressed the issue of authority in the church from his pulpit at TTB.org.

If all the church officers of this country would simply read the pastoral epistles; 1st and 2nd Timothy and Titus, and see what God's requirements are for being an officer in the church, and just follow these simple requirements that are given there, over one half of the officers of this country would resign before next Sunday.  

The church'd be better off, and I think a revival would break out in many places.  

....Why don't we follow what the Word of God has to say?

...Little wonder the church is in the problem that it's in today.  No wonder it's filled with a bunch of babies sucking their thumb; crying loud and long unless they're given some attention and a rattle to play with and a yo-yo... and a yo-yo's appropriate for them; they're up and down on a string all the time.   

I think that I had little problem doing the things my parents wanted me to do that were understood but not spoken.  I took it for granted that I would live there with them and eat the food provided and wear the clothes provided.  I didn't fight them every step of the way, but I grumbled now and then.  I don't think my grumbling at that point in my life was very prevalent or even close to average.  I took it for granted that I would clean up whatever mess I made in the living room or kitchen- and that my room was allowed to be a big mess if I wanted it to be.  I don't think we ever discussed this.  There were things that they expected me to do, and that I did.  But if anybody ever tells me to do something, I think of 35 reasons why I don't want to do it, and 50 reasons why it should not be done.

The church is made up of me's.  (I can't stand that apostrophe at the end of me, but how else could I write it?  Mes?)

Genesis 1

Thanks to a series of CDs entitled Create Your World, by Patricia King, this time that I read Genesis 1, from the beginning of Oursler's The Greatest Book Ever Written- these were my impressions.


It's just great.  Some people see Genesis 1 as the first part of the Bible, which it is.  And I see it as a great introduction tacked on later to set the stage for some thoughts that were already written.  How do we write what is so awesome that it is beyond words?  Is the idea beyond the Word?  Of course it is.

I see Genesis 1 as instructions for what people are to do.  We're supposed to create.  And we're supposed to identify the good.  And right now that I'm so overwhelmed with a world of options that I do nothing, I'm supposed to divide and segregate the big wide world into my part in it.

God says things and they happen, but most of the story is dividing up everything into smaller bits until there is a focus on one man.


I also loved the fact that the definition of fruit is taken from this passage.

A fruit is something that has a seed in it.  An herb is something that needs a seed to grow.

Those scientists.  Don't they know that everything they do is just trying to explain Genesis 1?

Toynbee's Six Civilizations Without Precedents

On p. 48 and elsewhere in Somervell's abridgment of The Study of History, Toynbee states that of the 21 civilizations that are identifiable, in all of time (I love his willingness to say what he sees rather than to say, "Uh, I don't know.  The record is incomplete.")  six civilizations had no known antecedents.

He's going to go into the history of the Egyptiac, Sumeric, Minoan, Sinic (Yellow River in China), Mayan and Andean as civilizations that sprang up from nothing.  And only the Egyptian had no descendants.  Is this why I love Egypt?


A word about adjectives.  Why can't we just say either Egyptiac or Egyptian?  Is there a difference?

I hate when people say Mosaic meaning pertaining to Moses.  Mosaics are already something else, so let's not drag art into the study of Bible, history or civilization- thank you very much.

 

The Study of History

An event enters "history" when it is recorded.  But there may be multiple, and competing, histories; as there are multiple. and competing, eyewitness accounts.

Joyce Carol Oates  The Accursed

          And -

The historian is not so puzzled, for this is commonplace in history, that afterward, witnesses disagreed about what had happened, or what they had believed happened             p. 625

p. 455 footnote
It is not the historian's strategy to keep his reader in any sort of cheap suspense, for history is past; so I see no reason not to reveal to the reader... the outcome.




I'm reading an abridgment of Arnold J. Toynbee's A Study of History by D.C. Somervell.  This work uses definitions and identifies its methodologies, and some suppositions.  How nice it would be if every book would start out by presenting the author's suppositions.  Authors don't generally want to admit that they have them, and the ones they know of tend to be a very small percentage of the ones they have.... but I digress.

On page 45-46, it's mentioned that the only difference between the genres of History, Science, and Fiction is that fiction can be drawn from innumerable data.  I love this admission.  History and science include everything that's happened!  Well, we can't write that, much less read that.  Other than that, the techniques are the same whether someone admits it or knows that.  The author decides what to write about, and what to include in that tale.  And it is a tale.  Some authors know what the story is, and some ramble, but maybe the difference between science and history can be seen as the difference between the book and its movie.

It struck me recently that science needs to be repeatable.  But despite all the fiction and physics about time being fluid, isn't it the one thing that isn't repeatable therefore nothing is?  What I mean, is the variables in an experiment can all be repeated in a laboratory, but they really aren't repeated to the last detail.  But time is a huge detail, and the first time the apple fell on Newton can only happen once.

 

Notes On The Preface: Fulton Oursler's The Greatest Book Ever Written

The cover got me.

There's an angry Moses in the top left corner, and the title of the book is pretty largely written on a commandment tablet that he's gripping with both hands.

Then there are the debauched crowd antics below.  If you ever want to catch my eye, show me something reminiscent of those Sunday School illustrations- women with veils and scandalous dancing caught in mid-step.  Apparently there were bikinis in ancient times.  Just look at Jeannie.

I'm not familiar with Fulton Oursler, but I look forward to reading another version of a story I've become familiar with.  

The preface states

The Holy Bible is still the best-selling book of all time and in all countries, yet surprisingly few of the new generation seem to be familiar with its contents.

I'm reminded of something I say in Internet classes, attempting to explain the new world we're in to people my age and older.  I say, adding that I'm speaking facetiously, that the best way to hide something today is just to put it on the Internet.  It's just so overwhelming; the amount of information out there for everyone to see.  And this has happened before in our culture.  Think of Bibles in every home but sitting there, dusty and unread.


A few months ago, when I was reading about Gutenberg, I was surprised that his goal was the Bible, not that the Bible was what he happened to print.  His wasn't a mercenary mission.  He wanted to get the Word out, and he did.  The word Bible obscures the obvious.  To many, this was the book; as in the only one.  Now it's a paperback, thrown away in a bin, sold by the pound.

There's A Scene

in Before Night Falls, where Javier Bardem walks out of the prison in a way that made me think of freedom as a byproduct of self-actualization.

The movie is a little dreamy.  I especially like the images of trees and sky and that sometimes it's not obvious if we're watching what happened or what the protagonist remembers and invents poetically.

Walking around quietly, the character easily slips through his captors' clutches with no one noticing.  He's scared, and he tries to be sneaky and then fast, and then frantically escapes.  But what I got from the scene is that there's nothing really keeping him in prison at that point.  Nobody follows him out of the holding cell, but everyone could have.  He lets himself out of a prison of his own making.

Sure he's scared.  But no one else notices, or follows.  He just let himself out.  He's the only one involved and it's all up to him, whether to relax, leave, run or dash into exile.

Thanks IMDB

It's great to be able to see who played which part and to follow an actor, or director, or writer.

I especially like the "credited with" feature so I can easily catch up with a duo if I've liked them together in something.

Love That Chicken at Popeyes

First of all, there is an ambiguous use of the apostrophe in their logo.  And I think I don't like orange.  But Popeyes has me.

The first time I had fried chicken, I probably liked it.  But who knows.  Today I think that it may be the best taste on earth.  Do you think I'm overselling this?  Imagine if there weren't any fried things, and we had the wherewithall to show a little restraint, or maybe the government decided to do that for us; but either way, a bite of fried chicken was all that was available at any one time.  People would be lining up for their daily hit of this stuff and whoever sold it could charge quite a bit.

Would the government take their cut and control the supply?

If so, would it be a legal or illegal operation?

I once heard Chelsea Handler say that we should know better.  She said that when someone eats fried chicken, they actually know deep down inside that they shouldn't be eating it.  I suppose the idea is that if something is so good, it has to be bad.  That's a strong idea in our culture, but it doesn't stop anything from being sold.  I think it increases consumption.  Nobody ever says "Hey, man, try this broccoli.  I'll give you a taste.  Go on.  Everybody's doing it."  Maybe that idea is why soda and dessert are so popular, and sex is so misappropriated; ambiguously and simultaneously celebrated and maligned.  Smoking and drinking have probably benefited from this idea as well.  But the idea of vice is so old, it's hard to tell.  Can we imagine a world where people didn't feel as if they should go after and/or resist what they want?  We accept animals doing what they want, and consider that innocence or instinct, as if something so simple could be both.  But people are supposed to decide, and then act or hold back.  Doing what you want can be courageous, evil, morally neutral, despicable, or just a matter of taste.  It can be interpreted as the one defining characteristic of a person's life or a minor detail unworthy of comment.

The first time I ate Popeyes was at a restaurant on Sand Lake Road and International Drive in Orlando.  I was very familiar with the character of Popeye, and surprised that the place didn't serve spinach.  And I had no idea that I would be living and working very close to that store for years, later on.  We were on a high school trip to Disney World and the bus stopped in a parking lot between Burger King and Popeyes.  There was a small amusement park there also, and our instructions were to eat at one of those restaurants and then meet up at a certain time later inside the park, which boasted arcade games and a Ferris wheel.

Today, I ate at another Popeyes, and the manager Samuel saw me coming and started getting my order ready before I even gave it.  I suppose you can tell that I could tell that he could tell he'd seen me before.  I came to the conclusion that the spicy chicken at Popeyes was the best single taste on earth when there was a show on television that involved putting something on a spoon and the judges judged it just by taste and how it looked sitting there on the spoon.  They didn't know what the taste was, and were supposed to be more authentic in their judgement; also not knowing who cooked what.  I was out of work, and drinking a lot of water.  I was held hostage by the idea that water is good and salt is bad, and I didn't have much money or much to do.  So I was drinking a lot of water.  I later realized that the level of salt and water needs to be within a certain range for life to continue.  Thankfully I figured this out before I did any additional damage to myself for such a stupid reason.  At the time, I was craving salt.  And Popeyes filled the bill magnificently.

One day it occurred to me that if fried chicken didn't look like it does, and wasn't presented how it is, that a boutique restaurant could charge a fortune for it.  Put that same flavor on a smaller plate with a mixture of colors and an expensive entree would be born that people would line the block for- if they didn't know they could already get it at Popeyes on the corner for a couple bucks.

Thanks Popeyes for saving my life when I was drinking too much water.  And thanks for the deal on the back of the receipt that made it possible, even for someone with little funds at the time.

I still wish you had spinach.

 

Conspiracy Theorists

A lady I've seen a few times at work told me that there is only one explanation for the fact that there are two sets of water pipes under each house.  Clearly, the government is going to kill us all.

She says she knows this because governments lie.  Look at the Kennedy assassination cover-up.  Look at 9/11.


I don't know anything about plumbing.  But I think she is right that governments lie.  Of course governments lie.  You know why?  Because governments are made up of people.

People do what they think they have to do.  And after they feel that they've done that, people do what they think they can get away with.  After that, they might occasionally do the right thing.  But everybody is looking out for number one, even if they are looking out for everybody else.  If they're looking out for everybody else, it's because they think that's what they have to do, or they don't think they can get away without doing that.  Or, you've caught them at a time when they are actually willing to do the right thing.  Everybody does the right thing some time.

Just now I heard about a proposed smoking pan for public housing.  This makes me angry.  I hate the smell of smoke.  But how can a government keep people from doing something that is legal?  Things should be legal or they should be illegal.

For some reason, the word limit now means recommended minimum- when it comes to speed limits.  People all over the world break this law every single day.  I don't like speed limits.  But I think things should be either legal or illegal.  A 45 mile an hour speed limit shouldn't really mean that everybody should go at least 45.  But I think that's what it means to most people.

There are laws on the books against all sorts of things.  I don't understand a law when I read it, and I don't believe that legislators do either.  And they don't always read them.

A government should be about trying to do what's best for most of the people.  Who would benefit if pipes under our houses were filled with poison?  I'm not sure.  Don't the people in power need the people who aren't in power to pay their salaries, earn money for them, buy stuff from them and so forth?

I've heard that there are plans to poison the people with fluoride and various carcinogens.  And I've heard that pharmaceutical companies are in business to make more customers, not to cure them.  And it is very curious that a product filled with sugar, made up of many ingredients from around the world that were shipped and processed beyond recognition, then packed and shipped again around the world can be more expensive than something grown and merely shipped to the closest market.  But I've heard many things.  I guess there might be one group of people who want the poor to smoke- maybe those who own tobacco stocks- and one group who wants them to not smoke.  Maybe there's a group of people who profit from prisons and they think that illegal smoking in one's home would be a real easy way to fill up some more prisons.  Then there are the race baiters who want there to be a race war.

Who are these people?

And does each group know about the other?

I once was offended when someone told me that the Church had kept people from learning to read for hundreds of years.  I was taught that those hardworking scholars kept literacy alive.  But what's the difference?

I don't picture peasants banging on monastery doors demanding the knowledge of writing.  But I don't picture the issues people are up in arms about today as being the most important ones of our time, either.


Yes, there are people that want to come and take your guns.  There are also people who want to sell everyone guns.  And there is probably somebody who wants to give one out with every birth certificate.  We let so many people drive cars.  Those could certainly be effective weapons.  Every once in awhile somebody uses car crash statistics to tell us that something is really safer than it seems.  But I've yet heard anybody say that the oil industry is set up to keep the population down by providing traffic fatalities.  Hmmm.... I may be on to something.

Notes on Josephine Hart's The Stillest Day

I had no idea that an architect mentioned in Josephine's little fable was a real figure.  What a great name: Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin.  I assumed she made it up to illustrate the layers of thought upon which the world of her story, like ours, is built.

There's the foundation of it, formed by Augustus- which once seemed so formal and stable.  The mighty empire- that was Rome and is now the West- was actually our veneer, not a solid base, but at the bottom of the whole thing like a carpet one rests the furniture upon.  It is really Greek thought seen through the eyes of Roman respectability tempered by Medieval piety distorted by looking back and calling it Christendom; having nothing whatever to do with Christ.  

Then there's Welby.  To some, that's the respectable doctor.  To others it's clearly a name that says London, rather than Londinium.  As a new Rome, and certainly not Constantinople- an errant excursion to the Orient takes you there...    you'd be better off near London.  Oversee the heathens you rule over from good 'ole jolly England.

Northmore- well, it's North- cold, covered in the hides of animals and protected from the dangerous sun of the tropic south where flesh is revealed outside of the bath where one keeps a towel on.  And it's more. Winter is here, where it should be.  Things are as they are.  After all, it has always been thus.  Or has it?

And then there's Pugin.  To me it sounds as dangerous as the flesh colored salmon; which is only okay for others, but not for oneself.

My Little Trump Tower

I was listening at TTB.org today, and catching up on yesterday's content.

Politics is making the rounds of casual conversation, since we are in debate season.  Two colleagues had actually listened to all that blather recently, or wanted to, but I can't watch it.  It makes me ill to hear people talk so much and say so little.  I can't stand being told that someone cares for our country when it's so obvious that they only care about themselves.  And last night I actually dreamed of Trump.  He wasn't in my dream, but I was so excited to go to his house.

In my dream, we received invitations to see the house that I've wanted to see since childhood, and there was an image of it on the envelopes and the invitation inside.  And in indisputable dream logic, I knew that if we returned our responses and accepted the invites we'd get back some golden ones, to keep as keepsakes forever and ever, and then be able to see the mansion itself.

We walked through the front door, and were shown in and ushered off to the left to see what we were told was Trump's room.  I was vaguely interested to see how he lived; much more interested in the mansion itself, and walked around what was actually his three-room suite which was so ordinary it could have been part of a duplex or motel room.  Everything was freshly painted grey or beige and looked as spartan and antiseptic as a mid-grade apartment a Realtor is showing you while smiling wanly.

Growing up across from Palm Beach, we would drive along the beach and look at the water on one side and the Mar-a-Lago tower and gates on the other.  Sometimes the gates were open, but I never got a good look at the house and I've also wanted to always see inside, and go up inside the tower and look out over the grounds and the ocean.

I've seen images of inside but only the gates and the tower show very well from the road.  I always liked the idea that up off the ground there are two statues of men pulling the gates open, and I wanted to see if they moved when the gates closed.  They were an interesting version of those ridiculous lawn jockeys that other poorer people used to mark their entrances.

When Trump bought it, I was a little surprised, because the home represented to me old money, and I didn't think of him in that way, but as nouveau riche; even though he, Saddam Hussein and Marjorie Merriweather Post could have shared a decorator.  But in the land of sound bytes, 30 years ago is old so he might be seen even as olde money now; having been rich for decades.

People see Trump as an outsider.  But I don't.  Politics and media and tv and everybody following make up a system in which he is a character.  But so are all the politicians.  Having been gone for years, J. Vernon said that the media brainwashes, whether it was behind the Iron Curtain or not.  "If you look at Washington today, you'll feel like giving up, or throwing up."  Boy do I ever.  I wonder what McGee would say today.

"I don't know about you, but I'm tired of the panel discussions of politicians, educators, military and athletes and the movie colony.  I don't think they have any message for us right now.  Perhaps you can hear the still small voice of God."

The problem with Christians is that they are confused when the laws of the land don't follow what they believe.  That's because we're all in the world and we don't want to have to work to not be of it.  I'm sure the world will turn out differently depending upon whom we elect to lead the United States.  But I don't think any of them will make it better.  We know Who to turn to if we want peace or justice or prosperity or true freedom.  

Lisa Blount as Chrystal

I recently watched Great Balls of Fire again, and I was struck by how well Winona Ryder played someone who she wasn't.  That's acting.  Some performances are overlooked because we don't know the distance between who an actor is and the role that they are playing.

Winona was once quoted, expressing this useless thought of critical audiences, by asking what the public wanted of her.  Did they want to see a girl play a Supreme Court justice?  Of course all her roles were girls, when she was one.  Now, she can play women.  But I doubt if she'll ever go back to playing girls.  Is that odd?  No, that's effective casting.    

Lisa Blount caught my eye in that movie, and then again as the star of Chrystal.  Thanks to imdb.com, I realized they were roles played by the same actress.

In the context of the film, time stops when she stands up and sings beautifully.  In the isolated clip, some of the luster isn't noticeable because this wasn't a music video, but part of an entire starring role that deserves to be appreciated and seen.

As often I do when I see a movie about the South or the country, I try to determine if the characters are being celebrated or scorned as bumpkins.  Chrystal is no bumpkin.

I noticed the accurate touch I can attest to that the pronunciation has a slight "sh" in it; inexplicably.  For some reason many same something like Kristchal.  Yes, they do.  I have no idea why.

Lawless (2012)

I'll resist the urge to call it Flawless, but I loved it.

What's up with the hair?  These guys have some serious haircuts, dude.  I don't know or care about accuracy- because they all have a great look.

I couldn't find pictures that show just how much contrast there is between the sections of their hair that are short and the sections that are long.  It gets to the point of ridiculousness when you see them from the back. They've taken the "put a bowl on your head and trim around it" idea to a new level.

The ladies on the other hand, don't spend nearly as much time on their hair.

The guys seem to have had an electric razor available after every take.  If only I still had a discernible hairline up front I could try something similar.  Is this remotely like hair was in the 1930s?  I think a lot of license was taken with the short in the back and on the sides look.

Since Thomas Hardy is one of my favorite authors, I'm not about to say that Tom Hardy is one of my favorite actors.  I'm just figuring out who he is.  But I'll say this.  Gary Oldman is one of my favorite actors and Tom Hardy did just as well in this film.  All the acting was great, in my opinion.


As long as we're talking about guys' hair, including Guy's hair, I'll mention Nick Cave.

The music was great.  The story was also.  I loved instantly recognizing Emmylou Harris and Willie Nelson, thinking they weren't from that part of the country, and dismissing the thoughts as soon as they materialized because their voices were perfect choices.  When I heard Ralph Stanley, I knew we had a winner here.  The music carried the movie along, heightened the humor- and even created it; distilled the plot into legend and brought the tone to a true level.  I don't mean a realistic tone; but a true and artistic one.  The scenery was great too- even the kudzu which is too interesting to edit out of a movie, I suppose.  Like moss in the trees- it looks great and the only people who know it shouldn't be there won't care.

With one viewing, I didn't find an acting misstep.  I think it's extremely rare for me to feel that way, and it's not just because I like all these actors.  This movie has brought several of them to my attention.

I noticed an attempt to have the characters speak hillbilly, and not a more generic Southern accent or a country one.  It worked for me, but I know there are actors from all over who were attempting this.  They didn't fool me, but I'll go with it.  The film was shot in Georgia, and it shows- not that that's a bad thing.  But the accent wasn't Georgian.

Interesting to me, the music was spot on, just like in American Hustle- which didn't even play The Hustle, I don't think.  That film used songs I knew to bring me back to a world I remember, while this one brought me to one I had never seen.

Notes - 2 Quotes - From Edith Wharton's The Reef

p.43

That, among the people he frequented, was the usual attitude toward such opportunities.  There were too many, they were a nuisance, one had to defend one's self!  He even remembered wondering, at the moment, whether to a really fine taste the exceptional thing could ever become indifferent through habit; whether the appetite for beauty was so soon dulled that it could be kept alive only by privation.




This quote makes me think of today's rush toward the next thing.  We really do value our opinions and tastes as if they are not so easily shaped by opportunity and repetition.  We value them so much that we think we need to share them and even legislate them.  But our tastes are so malleable.  I often think of what I would have eaten if in the Olde World before the Age of Discovery without chocolate, tomatoes and potatoes. Well, obviously, I wouldn't have missed those thing and I would have liked others.  If you want to bring back the thrill of anything, just go without it for awhile.  The best cook is a hungry appetite.








p.180

"Don't think, please, that I'm casting the least reflection on Anna, or showing any want of sympathy for her, when I say that I consider her partly responsible for what's happened.  Anna is 'modern' - I believe that's what it's called when you read unsettling books and admire hideous pictures.  Indeed," Madame Chantelle continued, leaning confidentially forward, "I myself have always more or less lived in that atmosphere: my son, you know, was very revolutionary.  Only he didn't, of course, apply his ideas: they were purely intellectual.





Once again, I enjoyed reading about the characters' white lady problems.  The more cultured a person is, the bigger difference between what they say and what they mean.

I find myself skipping descriptions and moving on toward the dialogue when reading either of my three favorite authors.  Then I catch myself and go back to the descriptions.  Should I read plays?

In this quote we see a gulf between thinking and doing.  I wonder what the world was like when the only book was hallowed.

A Woman Who Changed the World

I was reading through a book that went through all of history and all around the world and listed the women who have changed it.  The usual suspects were there.  I saw Cleopatra and Queen Elizabeth I.  And there was a decided effort to add people who weren't Western.  One woman was in the book because she designed one building and then couldn't make it as an architect.

There are world-changers and then there are the rest of us.

Please, authors, just because you have a point of view, don't look back into history and find some obscure detail and pretend like it is important.  


The one film actor chosen was Greta Garbo.  The one pop singer was Bessie Smith.  I'm not sure who I would have chosen if I was writing this book.  As far as First Ladies go, there were two.  Jackie Kennedy and Eleanor Roosevelt were in the book; but after thinking about it, I think maybe Betty Ford changed the world more.  Many successful women have helped the cause of women or inspired others, but until Betty Ford, no one talked about addiction and now nobody can shut up about it.