I’ve had a mix of being busier this week, as well as seeing my interest flag somewhat. As you’ll see, I’ve read 2 and half stories, one of which was a 2 page humor piece. Partly, the stories didn’t grab me, partly there have been a couple TV shows I wanted to catch up with (have you seen Kings or Fringe?), and partly I’m getting an itch to read a longer fiction. For what it’s worth, I’ve retrieved Michael Chabon’s The Amazing Adventures of Kavelier and Clay from then library for another try. The first time around I got bogged down in a rather dense section about 50 to 80 pages in. Since then I’ve read The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, The Final Solution: A Story Of Detection, Gentlemen of the Road, The Yiddish Policeman’s Union, and the graphic novel The Escapist. So it seemed like I may be better able to appreciate K and K this time around. My reasoning is…I gave up on Anne Rice’s Interview with a Vampire 50 pages in…twice. Then went on to enjoy The Vampire Lastat, The Queen of the Damned, and Tale of the Body Thief. Along the way I learned that my problem with Interview is the voice. That book is written in Louis’ whinny, kvetching voice, while the others are written in Lestat’s strong assured voice. As a matter of fact, the one book in the series I am angry with Anne about is Memnoch the Devil. She but Lestat in the Louis role there, stuck with the job of occasionally interrupting the story to say “what happened next?”! I ended up feeling that she’d have written a more satisfying book if she’d deleted Lestat and let Memnoch carry his own story. After that revelation, about the voice, I was able to zip right through
None of which have anything to do with this week’s New Yorker.
Shouts and Murmurs
I’d have to say that my top read from April 13 is Mi Chiamo Stan by Ian Fraser. Fraser uses the framework of a self taught Italian language lesson to spin a cute little distraction about an Illinois pig farmer’s dream of going to Fashion Week in Milan and bringing home a super-model wife. Among my favorite lines is this one: Per favore depsiti il suo tabacco da masticare all’impiegato. Le sara restituito quando sara rilasciato. Which translates as Please surrender your chewing tobacco to the desk clerk. It will be returned to you when you are released.
Profiles: Last Laugh, Katt Williams Takes On The Haters
While the promos for Katt Williams’ Comedy Central show look appealing enough, I’ve never taken the time to check him out. I appreciated the overview of Williams’ career written by Ian Fraser, but I’m still not sure I’ll be tuning in. One thing that sticks out for me, and it’s worth taking note of, is the work it takes too break through in comedy. While a similar path probably exists in other entertainment careers, the schlep of the long distance comedian is a long one indeed. Maybe this sticks out for me because I made a brief foray into stand-up a couple of years ago. At the very front end of this journey is a long string of nights practicing material and delivery at open mic events. These open mics are held at bars or coffee houses hoping to boast their mid-week crowds and not caring how that’s done. The audience, as often as not, have come in for many other reasons than to hear erstwhile comedians ply their future trade. Or they’ve come to hear and cheer their buddy. In any case, the audience’s attentiveness varies and truly fs up your concept of which jokes or what deliver works or sucks.
And once you graduate from that level to something that pays, small gigs or MC jobs, you find that they may pay, but barely. The next step up the rung is getting on the circuit, better pay, offset by the number of hotel nights you pay for on the road and the various other indignities of a life dependent on cheap ass club owners.
Let’s cut to the chase and simply say, I have a lot of respect for comedians who make it far enough to national exposure. Even if I don’t like their schtick, I give them their due.
Annals of Finance: IOU, American Way of Life
Wow, mucho frustration here. Regardless of what I wrote at the top of this, I truly haven’t had as much reading time this week. I have one issue sitting since last Tuesday while I poke at this blog entry and I haven’t finished reading one of the better articles in this issue. Jill Lepore takes us on an historical review of America’s bankruptcy and debtor treatment throughout our 233+ years. And I have to admit it’s made me think more about how we’re all reacting to the current debt crisis. But I haven’t finished reading it and I feel compelled to put this issue to bed and move on.
But don’t be surprised if I circle back here later…
Monday, April 20, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
April 6
ANNALS OF NATIONAL SECURITY:
Syria Calling
Seymour M. Hersh
What can be done about the Middle-East. Countries that aren’t currently in a state of crisis are on the edge or dancing with touchy neighbors. Syria no less than any other. And likely, Syria has been directly involved as a bad player for many years. But to hear Seymour Hersh tell it, there are factions in Syria that are willing to negotiate better behavior…on their terms. One of their stated goals, as communicated to Mr. Hersh (among others) by President Assad, is the return of the Golan Heights. Whenever they raise this issue they blithely phrase it as a return to pre-1967 borders. Forgetting for the moment that we’re talking about rolling back the clock 33 years (parse that, numerologists!) it’s important to remember how that border move came about. To make this as clear as possible, look around your neighborhood. Look for the highest ground overlooking your home and imagine people throwing very big rocks down on your house. A lot of them. Explosives rocks. Damn hard getting up hill to stop them, ain’t it. Now imagine that you do get up there and stop them. Now the hill that looks over your home in no longer a threat. But the only way you can be sure it stays that way is to keep the hill for yourself.
In case I haven’t been blunt enough, here’s the deal…in 1967 Israel was attacked by 4 or 5 of its neighbors, Syria among them. Not only did Israel beat them back, she took control of some strategic property. From the safety of my Middle American upbringing, I can’t think of a single good reason to give that land back. Assuming Assad and his country are serious about being a bridge to other Arab countries, for both the US and Israel, I’d be looking for some goodwill demonstrations before I’d even discuss the matter. Let’s talk about how they fuck with Lebanon and Iraq for a minute.
Some possibly valid points are made on Syria’s behalf in Hersh’s informative piece, but as you can see, I need a bit more convincing.
A REPORTER AT LARGE
Message in a Bottle
John Colapinto
What’s an impossibly rich and environmentally well meaning dude to do in order to call (more) attention to our untenable life-style? How’s about making a boat out of trashed plastic water bottles and sail it through a floating plastic trash “bloom” that’s developed in the Pacific Ocean (there’s also one in the Atlantic, we learn). And how that’ll get the junk cleaned up, I’m still not sure. But more people will learn about it. I must say, John Colapinto’s article, Message in a Bottle, is detailed and entertaining look into David de Rothschild’s latest eco-venture and how he got there. It ends before they set sail, but I’m sure we’ll hear more about it this summer. And I hope this becomes a discussion for the mainstream press, because the impetus for this voyage is a difficult to conceive of phenomenon, that I’d rather see a rich guy raising money to fix than sail through. While I’m sure that’s his ultimate goal, any discussion of how to approach this problem was totally absent from the article. More time was dedicated to a competitor in the re-cycled plastic sailing world than to potential solutions.
Suffice it to say, there is a huge tract of ocean serving as a repository for waste plastics floating in from China, Japan, Mexico and the Western US. This gyre is an area where the currents capture the trash and keep it slowly swirling…indefinitely. Between this and other similar areas found in other oceans, researchers estimate “the amount of plastic marine waste to be a hundred million tons.” I can only say I am astounded.
FICTION
“Visitation”
Brad Watson
As a former single-parent I can say that Brad Watson’s fiction piece, Visitation touched me on several levels. He painted a rather complete picture of his main character and brought a couple of other characters into clear enough focus to share a reality with the reader. On one level it was a very stereotypical reality, that of the downtrodden non-custodial parent trying ineptly to make some thing of the snatches of time he has with his child. To his credit, Watson begins by beating his protagonist to such a depressed pulp before launching us into “the fix he was in now” that we want to like him. We want to like him a he takes his son to an inappropriate hotel, as he quietly gets drunk while his son watches TV, as he lamely wades through a day of not connecting with his son, and as he finally comes to a realization about his relationship with his son – one that may be relative to his overall connection to the larger world. As I began to write this I thought of several things I’d have done differently and better (and I did in my day), but the act of thinking about the story brought me back to the reality Watson created and, as when I read it the first time, my reality faded and his sat squarely in front of me. Obviously, this story is about more than a man who is not a part of his son’s life. And, just as obviously, Brad Watson wrote a good tale.
THE THEATER
Hilton Als
For several decades I’ve harbored a crush for Susan Sarandon. And the photo accompanying Als’ review of “Exit The King” did nothing to dampen it. Als, in his review gives a thoughtful and positive review of Ionesco’s parodic comedy. He also very quietly, but unmistakably, avoids discussing Ms. Sarandon’s performance. Which would have been difficult in a larger cast show, considering her name recognition. But in a 3-character jaunt such as this, his silent treatment screams paragraphs. Especially considering the long half paragraph he dedicates to the fun Geoffrey Rush and Lauren Ambrose had with Ionesco’s words. How much more praise can be offered 2 actors than “they perform little pirouettes around his concrete poetry”. I would love to see this play, first for the shear pleasure these pirouettes promise, but also in the hope that Ms. Sarandon plays to her character’s nature and for no other reason didn’t earn more mention in this review.
As for Als’ other reviews, the only one worth mentioning is his scathing swipe at Zachary Oberzan and “Rambo Solo”. I can’t for the life of me think of what would motivate anyone to hang their theatric hat on the Rambo movies, let alone craft a one-man show around them, but Oberzan did. And Als hated it. Did I say hated it? I’m sorry, I don’t think that properly describes the loathing which I am sure Als will feel for Oberzan for the rest of both of their lives. While “excrement” isn’t mentioned in the definition of execrable, it’s what I heard when Als used it to describe this show. My only regret about Als review is that I’ve seen reviewers absolutely wax poetic about things they’ve hated, but here Als merely detests it and moves on.
Syria Calling
Seymour M. Hersh
What can be done about the Middle-East. Countries that aren’t currently in a state of crisis are on the edge or dancing with touchy neighbors. Syria no less than any other. And likely, Syria has been directly involved as a bad player for many years. But to hear Seymour Hersh tell it, there are factions in Syria that are willing to negotiate better behavior…on their terms. One of their stated goals, as communicated to Mr. Hersh (among others) by President Assad, is the return of the Golan Heights. Whenever they raise this issue they blithely phrase it as a return to pre-1967 borders. Forgetting for the moment that we’re talking about rolling back the clock 33 years (parse that, numerologists!) it’s important to remember how that border move came about. To make this as clear as possible, look around your neighborhood. Look for the highest ground overlooking your home and imagine people throwing very big rocks down on your house. A lot of them. Explosives rocks. Damn hard getting up hill to stop them, ain’t it. Now imagine that you do get up there and stop them. Now the hill that looks over your home in no longer a threat. But the only way you can be sure it stays that way is to keep the hill for yourself.
In case I haven’t been blunt enough, here’s the deal…in 1967 Israel was attacked by 4 or 5 of its neighbors, Syria among them. Not only did Israel beat them back, she took control of some strategic property. From the safety of my Middle American upbringing, I can’t think of a single good reason to give that land back. Assuming Assad and his country are serious about being a bridge to other Arab countries, for both the US and Israel, I’d be looking for some goodwill demonstrations before I’d even discuss the matter. Let’s talk about how they fuck with Lebanon and Iraq for a minute.
Some possibly valid points are made on Syria’s behalf in Hersh’s informative piece, but as you can see, I need a bit more convincing.
A REPORTER AT LARGE
Message in a Bottle
John Colapinto
What’s an impossibly rich and environmentally well meaning dude to do in order to call (more) attention to our untenable life-style? How’s about making a boat out of trashed plastic water bottles and sail it through a floating plastic trash “bloom” that’s developed in the Pacific Ocean (there’s also one in the Atlantic, we learn). And how that’ll get the junk cleaned up, I’m still not sure. But more people will learn about it. I must say, John Colapinto’s article, Message in a Bottle, is detailed and entertaining look into David de Rothschild’s latest eco-venture and how he got there. It ends before they set sail, but I’m sure we’ll hear more about it this summer. And I hope this becomes a discussion for the mainstream press, because the impetus for this voyage is a difficult to conceive of phenomenon, that I’d rather see a rich guy raising money to fix than sail through. While I’m sure that’s his ultimate goal, any discussion of how to approach this problem was totally absent from the article. More time was dedicated to a competitor in the re-cycled plastic sailing world than to potential solutions.
Suffice it to say, there is a huge tract of ocean serving as a repository for waste plastics floating in from China, Japan, Mexico and the Western US. This gyre is an area where the currents capture the trash and keep it slowly swirling…indefinitely. Between this and other similar areas found in other oceans, researchers estimate “the amount of plastic marine waste to be a hundred million tons.” I can only say I am astounded.
FICTION
“Visitation”
Brad Watson
As a former single-parent I can say that Brad Watson’s fiction piece, Visitation touched me on several levels. He painted a rather complete picture of his main character and brought a couple of other characters into clear enough focus to share a reality with the reader. On one level it was a very stereotypical reality, that of the downtrodden non-custodial parent trying ineptly to make some thing of the snatches of time he has with his child. To his credit, Watson begins by beating his protagonist to such a depressed pulp before launching us into “the fix he was in now” that we want to like him. We want to like him a he takes his son to an inappropriate hotel, as he quietly gets drunk while his son watches TV, as he lamely wades through a day of not connecting with his son, and as he finally comes to a realization about his relationship with his son – one that may be relative to his overall connection to the larger world. As I began to write this I thought of several things I’d have done differently and better (and I did in my day), but the act of thinking about the story brought me back to the reality Watson created and, as when I read it the first time, my reality faded and his sat squarely in front of me. Obviously, this story is about more than a man who is not a part of his son’s life. And, just as obviously, Brad Watson wrote a good tale.
THE THEATER
Hilton Als
For several decades I’ve harbored a crush for Susan Sarandon. And the photo accompanying Als’ review of “Exit The King” did nothing to dampen it. Als, in his review gives a thoughtful and positive review of Ionesco’s parodic comedy. He also very quietly, but unmistakably, avoids discussing Ms. Sarandon’s performance. Which would have been difficult in a larger cast show, considering her name recognition. But in a 3-character jaunt such as this, his silent treatment screams paragraphs. Especially considering the long half paragraph he dedicates to the fun Geoffrey Rush and Lauren Ambrose had with Ionesco’s words. How much more praise can be offered 2 actors than “they perform little pirouettes around his concrete poetry”. I would love to see this play, first for the shear pleasure these pirouettes promise, but also in the hope that Ms. Sarandon plays to her character’s nature and for no other reason didn’t earn more mention in this review.
As for Als’ other reviews, the only one worth mentioning is his scathing swipe at Zachary Oberzan and “Rambo Solo”. I can’t for the life of me think of what would motivate anyone to hang their theatric hat on the Rambo movies, let alone craft a one-man show around them, but Oberzan did. And Als hated it. Did I say hated it? I’m sorry, I don’t think that properly describes the loathing which I am sure Als will feel for Oberzan for the rest of both of their lives. While “excrement” isn’t mentioned in the definition of execrable, it’s what I heard when Als used it to describe this show. My only regret about Als review is that I’ve seen reviewers absolutely wax poetic about things they’ve hated, but here Als merely detests it and moves on.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
March 30
I had such a good start with this issue, as noted in last week’s entry, but have ended up having a hard time getting around to writing this. Partly a busier work week, I’m writing this in a hotel in Buffalo. The wings really are better here. And, partly…I don’t have a clue. Lethargy, simply distracted? But here I am…
Every time I’ve heard David Sedaris on This American Life I’ve been entertained from beginning to end. His mix of sarcasm, irony, and excellent timing makes his stories a hoot. So I have to admit being a bit disappointed in his New Yorker story about a book tour. I appreciated it, but the pleasure was of mild interest. I guess I didn’t hear his voice in it as I have other authors in their pieces.
Imagine my relief as I rolled right through Woody Allen’s Tail’s of Manhattan. This tale tickled from front to back. I’ve dodged Madoff stories whenever I could, but I was too deep into this 1 pager, by the time Madoff made his appearance that I couldn’t look away. Nor did I want to. My experience with humor at this length is always a mix of awe and a recognition that it took a simple step of imagination to get this ball rolling. And it feels like it rolled off his pen (keyboard) onto the page in one smooth delivery.
Nancy Franklin’s review of NBC’s Kings was as notable for her lead in as it was for her closing. She begins by ruminating on the other dramatic milestones this spring, including NBC’s upcoming Southland and the end of ER. Franklin then bemoans the decline of broadcast network drama series, as evidenced by next fall’s impending loss of 5 hours of primetime network real estate. The new Jay Leno 10 pm show is seen by many to be a harbinger of things to come, especially if successful. Talk shows cost much less to produce than episodic TV. As a long-time NON-fan of Jay Leno, I’m not convinced the end is neigh. Franklin ends her piece by revealing that we have a mutual interest, comic books. And dropping a piece of news I’ve been too busy to notice, the coming Green Lantern movie. In between, she introduces the main characters and thematic direction of NBC’s biblically based series. My wife and I have been enjoying Kings from the first episode, partly for the same reason Franklin mentions in her piece, the inestimable Ian McShane. As Franklin notes, McShane’s previous role, that of Al Swearengen, was cut short prematurely. When I consider that Deadwood met it’s untimely end so that creator David Milch could launch the annoyingly aimless John from Cincinnati, my blood pressure begins to rise again. I am obviously too artistically immature to appreciate what Milch was doing with “John”. NOT! I saw this short-lived series of an unfortunate waste of interesting characters…and my time. Which tells you not an inch more abot Kings or Franklin’s review, so me close by simply stating I enjoyed it, I agree with Franklin, and I look forward to reading more from her.
On the solemn side of things, Craig Raine gives us a brief but touching look into the death of a woman from cancer, scenes for her life with her husband, and brief, transitory effect of all this on her husband. In his short fiction, Julia and Byron, Raine paints a clear picture of Julia and upon her death, introduces husband Byron to us. Whereupon he simultaneously makes us pity Byron on 2 levels before leaving him to continue his life. I was touched, not in a deeply moving way, but touched none-the-less.
I’ve never played poker. Well, I could say I have, for hours, against a cheap phone game. But I’m certain that doesn’t count. So I have to admit, the allure of poker is strong when I read a about it. And this was no less true when reading of mathematician poker payer Chris Furguson. The fact that he has long straight hair and just the right beard ha earned Chris the nickname Jesus and the article a cool name, What Would Jesus Bet? That there is a format or a stylistic direction for New Yorker profile articles is becoming apperent, but that doesn’t minimize the pleasure of reading them. In this one, Alec Wilkinson familiarizes us with Ferguson, some legal issue surrounding on-line poker sites (definitely NOT a game of chance), and some professional level poker strategy. And does so in an inviting, inclusive manner.
Every time I’ve heard David Sedaris on This American Life I’ve been entertained from beginning to end. His mix of sarcasm, irony, and excellent timing makes his stories a hoot. So I have to admit being a bit disappointed in his New Yorker story about a book tour. I appreciated it, but the pleasure was of mild interest. I guess I didn’t hear his voice in it as I have other authors in their pieces.
Imagine my relief as I rolled right through Woody Allen’s Tail’s of Manhattan. This tale tickled from front to back. I’ve dodged Madoff stories whenever I could, but I was too deep into this 1 pager, by the time Madoff made his appearance that I couldn’t look away. Nor did I want to. My experience with humor at this length is always a mix of awe and a recognition that it took a simple step of imagination to get this ball rolling. And it feels like it rolled off his pen (keyboard) onto the page in one smooth delivery.
Nancy Franklin’s review of NBC’s Kings was as notable for her lead in as it was for her closing. She begins by ruminating on the other dramatic milestones this spring, including NBC’s upcoming Southland and the end of ER. Franklin then bemoans the decline of broadcast network drama series, as evidenced by next fall’s impending loss of 5 hours of primetime network real estate. The new Jay Leno 10 pm show is seen by many to be a harbinger of things to come, especially if successful. Talk shows cost much less to produce than episodic TV. As a long-time NON-fan of Jay Leno, I’m not convinced the end is neigh. Franklin ends her piece by revealing that we have a mutual interest, comic books. And dropping a piece of news I’ve been too busy to notice, the coming Green Lantern movie. In between, she introduces the main characters and thematic direction of NBC’s biblically based series. My wife and I have been enjoying Kings from the first episode, partly for the same reason Franklin mentions in her piece, the inestimable Ian McShane. As Franklin notes, McShane’s previous role, that of Al Swearengen, was cut short prematurely. When I consider that Deadwood met it’s untimely end so that creator David Milch could launch the annoyingly aimless John from Cincinnati, my blood pressure begins to rise again. I am obviously too artistically immature to appreciate what Milch was doing with “John”. NOT! I saw this short-lived series of an unfortunate waste of interesting characters…and my time. Which tells you not an inch more abot Kings or Franklin’s review, so me close by simply stating I enjoyed it, I agree with Franklin, and I look forward to reading more from her.
On the solemn side of things, Craig Raine gives us a brief but touching look into the death of a woman from cancer, scenes for her life with her husband, and brief, transitory effect of all this on her husband. In his short fiction, Julia and Byron, Raine paints a clear picture of Julia and upon her death, introduces husband Byron to us. Whereupon he simultaneously makes us pity Byron on 2 levels before leaving him to continue his life. I was touched, not in a deeply moving way, but touched none-the-less.
I’ve never played poker. Well, I could say I have, for hours, against a cheap phone game. But I’m certain that doesn’t count. So I have to admit, the allure of poker is strong when I read a about it. And this was no less true when reading of mathematician poker payer Chris Furguson. The fact that he has long straight hair and just the right beard ha earned Chris the nickname Jesus and the article a cool name, What Would Jesus Bet? That there is a format or a stylistic direction for New Yorker profile articles is becoming apperent, but that doesn’t minimize the pleasure of reading them. In this one, Alec Wilkinson familiarizes us with Ferguson, some legal issue surrounding on-line poker sites (definitely NOT a game of chance), and some professional level poker strategy. And does so in an inviting, inclusive manner.
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