Top Cat

A belated hat's off to Nin, the official cat-in-residence at the Mount Washington Observatory. Nin retired this week after twelve years of faithful service. Good kitty.

Missing the Point

It happened again. Year after year, decade after decade, the turf war over which gang of churchmen should control which bit of the Church of the Nativity has often led to holy fisticuffs. If I was a better Christian I would probably feel some sort of pity for the battling brethren of Bethlehem, but I just can't stop myself from laughing.

Oh Yeah!

Sixteen and oh! Sweet.

Thank you Patriots for giving us the gift of this season. To see your team go undefeated, to see them score the most points ever, to see your quarterback throw the most touchdowns and his favorite receiver catch the most touchdowns is really something special.

Sixteen down. Three to go.

The Meaning of Life?

We've been on something of a Monty Python kick this fall. We started by watching Holy Grail, then watched every episode of the old series, first to last. It took us a while, as time has been rather dear lately, but we persevered and finished up last week. Full up, even bloated on Python though we were, we decided to watch just one more little movie. The disc was, after all, wafer thin.

Monty Python's The Meaning of Life is the film that most resembles the old series; it's a bunch of comedy bits connected by links. The weakest of the three Python movies, it is still pretty darn good. Required viewing for all Python fans, I should think. The overall theme is, of course, the search for the meaning of life. They cover life in all its stages while having a go at big business, modern medicine, religion, classism, war, Americans, and popular culture in general. They also manage to be really silly while throwing a little blood and a lot of vomit onto the screen.

A word about vomit. If you have a weak tummy like me, you might want to turn your head away when the corpulent Mr. Creosote comes on-screen. If you have a very weak tummy you might just want to step out to the kitchen for a few minutes. It’s quite funny, but it is also quite disgusting.

All that aside, do the boys deliver? Do they actually give us a clue as to the meaning of life? Oddly, they may just. Near the middle of the movie, in the midst of the usual silliness, someone says this: “Matter is energy. In the universe there are many energy fields which we cannot normally perceive. Some energies have a spiritual source which act upon a person’s soul. However, this ‘soul’ does not exist ab initio as orthodox Christianity teaches; it has to be brought into existence by a process of guided self-observation. However, this is rarely achieved owing to man’s unique ability to be distracted from spiritual matters by everyday trivia.”

Could that be it? Are we here to create our own souls? Are we the garden and the gardener, tending to the flower invisible? Should life be an ongoing process of questions and answers, sought from without and answered from within, leading to an ever increasing knowledge of one’s own soul? In a word, yes. Inner life. That’s a close as you can come, I think, to an answer.

Or 42. Whatever.

Right. Here are the top five reasons you should see this film:

The Crimson Permanent Assurance.

The “Every Sperm is Sacred” musical number. Amazing.

The Galaxy Song.

Eric’s Noel Coward impression.

That last wafer thin mint (really, very disgusting, but still funny).

The C Word

If I had my way, every fool that goes about with "merry Christmas" on his lips would be boiled in his own plum pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart.

Nevertheless, I do hope you and yours had a good one.

Glow in the Dark Cats!

Not all cats are gray at night.

Guarantee

I guarantee I enjoyed that game. Tom Terrific threw for 399 yards with four touchdowns. Moss had two of those, which means that he is only three away from reaching Jerry Rice's old record. Maroney didn't have a lot to do, but at one point he really showed some muscle, dragging half the Steelers down the field with him. Then there was that weird double lateral. Man, that was fun. Thirteen down, six to go.

A Conspiracy of Ravens

It's all true! The NFL is secretly backing the Patriots. Bill Belichick was on the grassy knoll. Elvis spiked the Gatorade. Unmarked helicopters with powerful cameras are watching for secret signals. Tom Brady was in the Michigan chapter of Skull and Bones. Mr. Kraft is getting help from the Trilateral Commission. Randy Moss was created in a laboratory by the gray aliens. Bigfoot's been spotted in Foxborough. The truth is out there. Believe!

Now You Know What to Get Me For Christmas

Yeah, it's a book, but you can't get it at Amazon. Creepy, but cool.

Jaws is Wrong

Just a brief football note here. Ron Jaworski usually knows his stuff, but I've always thought that he had a blind spot when it comes to the Patriots. Is there a difference between pacing and dogging? Was Jaws just looking to take his shot at Moss and the Pats? Yup.

November is Finally Over

I am heartily glad to see the end of it. It has been one of the worst months I've ever suffered. In a nutshell, the branch of the nonprofit I work for has been pummeled by the weak economy, I've developed a serious health issue that will affect the rest of my life, and my father has been diagnosed with a rare and inoperable form of cancer. Meanwhile a hundred little things have been nibbling away at my life and left me pretty worn.

I fell asleep last night and woke at noon today, fourteen hours later. It's as if I've been living with a frozen fever. The worst, I hope, is behind.

Right then. Let's have a sing-along:

Paperless

I used to be a bookseller. I worked in little bookstores and big bookstores, on college campuses and in shopping malls. I participated in the growth of the big-box stores that now dominate bookselling, helping to set up a few of them. Don't like those stores? Don't worry, they won't be around for long. Even while I was working there I used to tell my co-workers that our jobs would soon be joining scriveners and icemen in the dustbin of history. Someday we'd all have electronic tablets, I'd say, and when we wanted a new book we'd use it to go to the bookseller's website, buy it, and have it in our hand in seconds. Someday is a lot closer now. Amazon's new Kindle may not be the last word, but it is a big jump. Like it or not, the revolution is here. I, for one, welcome this future.

Don't get me wrong. I love paper books. I've got thousands of them. I've even been known to read them from time to time. I'll probably haunt used bookstores for years to come. But what I love most about books is that they are a delivery system for words. When I'm reading I don't want to be paying attention to the book. I want to be focused on the words. Sure, it's cool that my copy of The Lost World was printed before I was born, that it's slightly browned pages have a real honest to goodness rag edge, and that it even smells nice, but when I'm reading I don't notice any of that. It's not the book I'm reading, it's the story.

Nothing to Say

Lately, I haven't felt "compelled to share my thoughts with the world." I've recently had a couple of major things happen in my life, and just now I don't feel like talking about it. I like to blog about things that interest me. It is, after all, a state of mind, and I haven't had a mind to bloviate of late.

Writing, I find, often leads to more writing. It loosens the ligatures, to paraphrase Virginia Woolf. So who knows, perhaps even this post, about nothing, will lead to something.

They're Creepy and They're Kooky

Mysterious and spooky.

Piddling in the Champagne

As you may have heard, Don Shula, desperately clinging to the old Dolphin's perfect season in the face of the Patriot's near-inevitable crushing of all previous records, has recently stated that any such achievement this season should come with and asterisk. Sad. Pathetic really. Beyond the obvious fact that one video camera removed in the first quarter of the first game of the season has made no difference whatsoever, there is a certain air of hypocrisy. Mike Litke points out the fact that Miami's perfect team was created as a direct result of cheating.

I can see why Shula wants to take a punch at the Pats (missing widely and providing fuel for the angry men of Foxboro when they next visit with the Dolphins), but why do you suppose he aimed a shot at Roger Goodell? He all but called the commissioner a liar who had covered up even more serious crimes. Does Shula have some other agenda here? Is he deliberately trying to discredit this new commissioner? Or is he even aware of what it was that he said? Either way it is, as I said, sad. This asterisk leads to a footnote on an otherwise classy career.

"The Building That Threw Up On Itself"

MIT now says that there are serious design flaws in its new Stata Center. Really? You think? I'm stunned.

And Then There Was One

All hail the Colts -- the first team to seriously challenge My Beloved Patriots this season. I've been telling folks that this would be another blow-out, but the Colts were just way too good. I admit, I used to think of them as being all about Peyton Manning and his laser rocket arm, but that's just dumb. They are the complete package, a terrific all-around football team. Today, the Patriots were just a little better. Next time? Perish the thought. My blood pressure is bad enough as it is.

Now comes a well-deserved week off, then back on the road to 19-0.

Best Sports Drink. Ever.

Scientists have discovered the perfect re-hydrating drink to replenish your body after a workout. It promotes health and well being. It tastes great. It is bread in a bottle. Its freshness renews the spirit, yet it is as old a civilization itself. It is the wonder beverage of the ages. Is there nothing it can't do?

Amazing Grace

This is how a real Trekkie checks out in style. Just don't forget to drop your katra off with your nearest old country doctor.
via

Save the Giblets

What, Dan Akroyd wasn't available?

Still Going Strong

490 years ago today Martin Luther posted his arguments against the selling of indulgences. This sparked a movement that would bring about the Reformation of Christianity in Western Civilization. The process of reformation continues to this day.

Sympathy From the Devil?

The other day I was waiting for a train at North Station and I heard . . . nothing. T-Radio was off the air. Had we been granted a reprieve from the newly dug circle of Hell that commuters had been kicked into? Or was the arch-fiend simply toying with us?

The former, it turns out. Amazing.

Still, I wouldn't be surprised to hear it again in a few weeks as the New and Improved T-Radio, featuring less puerile blather and more fingernails on blackboards!

Somewhere, the Royal Rooters Are Marching

Tessie, "Nuf Ced" McGreevey shouted
We're not here to mess around
Boston, you know we love you madly
Hear the crowd roar to your sound
Don't blame us if we ever doubt you
You know we couldn't live without you
Tessie, you are the only only only
Don't blame us if we ever doubt you
You know we couldn't live without you
Boston, you are the only only only
Don't blame us if we ever doubt you
You know we couldn't live without you
Red Sox, you are the only only only

Bohemian Rhapsody

Hey kids, thinking about studying overseas? Check out the Czech Republic. Consider these important educational points -- Pilsner Urquell -- in cans -- in half liter cans -- in vending machines -- in your dorm.

And the world just keeps getting better.

Just That Much Closer to Hell

Every day I, like thousands of people who live in or near Boston, descend into the tunnels belows the old town and commute on what we call the T. Driving a car up on the surface is inefficient, wasteful, and expensive. The T is certainly the best alternative, even if it is often uncomfortable, unpleasant, crowded, dirty, loud, smelly, ugly, vulgar, unreliable, and generally awful. Still, we all know it could be worse.

This week it got worse. T-Radio was launched and is now annoying people at three busy stations. One of those stations is a place that I pass though every day.

I'm thinking of all the time I've stood on that platform, waiting (and waiting, and waiting . . .) for my train. I've stood, listening to the water dripping around me, smelling the occasional backup of sewage in the tunnel, contemplating the odd pattern of stains on the floor, while watching little rodents frisking about the tracks below me, and never once thought that my overall experience could be improved by insipid pop music, hip-hop, Latin hits, commercials, and lame chatter from pathetic local "celebrities."

Such is my lack of vision. Have you ever been commuting, stuck on a train or platform or some other public place where you have no control of your environment, when some jackass walks in carrying a boombox? The jackass is playing music you don't want to hear, or a radio program you'd really rather miss, but too bad, his bad taste is now your problem. What I saw as an annoying intrusion the T saw as something to institutionalize as a potential source of revenue.

If this sort of thing had gone on in Charlie's day he would have thrown himself onto the third rail. An increasingly attractive prospect.

Tales of the World's Worst Birdwatcher

Da Queen and I were taking a little stroll the other day. I noticed a little bird flitting about the plants over to our left. Sparrow, I thought, and moved on. "Look, a goldfinch," said Da Queen. She was right. Female goldfinch in her winter plumage. A pretty little thing too.

Right under my nose.

MVP!

Who else?

Another Sunday, Another Blowout

If you go by the final score you might think that the Cowboys were pushovers. But Dallas played well and they are the only team this season to get ahead of the Patriots, if only for a few minutes. All week I've been saying that the Cowboys are overrated, but I was wrong. They played the Pats pretty well, even if it was eventually to be for naught. My Beloved Patriots win by three touchdowns and ring up a total of 48 points. So far this season their lowest point total has been 34 and their smallest margin of victory has been 17.

Is this Patriots team the best in the NFL this year? I think we'll settle that in a few weeks. Is this the best team ever? We'll see.

Sure is fun for this old Pats fan to watch.

The Swedish Prize

Doris Lessing just won the Nobel Prize. Wow. I never thought they'd give it to her. Check me on this -- is she the first person whose oeuvre includes science fiction to become a Nobel Laureate?

Captain Pike, We Hardly Knew Ye

Get your tickets now fellow trekkies. "The Menagerie" will hit the big screen for one night only, November 13 at 7:30 PM. Come on, you know you want to. The Talosians. Number One. The captain's hat. The martini. Not good enough? How about Vina as a green Orion animal woman? Right. I'll see you there.

Happy Leif Erikson Day!

Today we celebrate Leif Erikson, the Viking explorer who established the legendary city of Norumbega, in the year 1000, in what we now call Massachusetts. This, according to Eben Norton Horsford, the man who gave us Rumsford Baking Powder. Sometime after this great invention, Horsford's longboat ran aground on Wackjob Island. He commissioned this wonderful statue of the discoverer of Boston (and inventor of the iron brassiere) that stands today on the Commonwealth Avenue Mall.

Truly one of my favorite things in New England

Happy Columbus Day

In fourteen hundred and ninety two, Columbus sailed the ocean blue. Back in those days everybody thought the world was flat, so Columbus proved it wasn't by sailing around the world to America. Nobody knew America was there, so Columbus discovered it. He met the Indians, who must have thought they were in India or something, but he told them no, this is America, which they must have been glad to learn. Then he went back to Europe and told everyone about America, and some people said hey, we should move there and invent democracy, so that's what they did.

Special thanks to Washington Irving for filling in some of the historical detail.

Missed It

I figure if I had to miss one game this month, it might as well be this one. The Browns had no chance. I was off giving a speech to a great group of young people who wanted to hear about Fair Trade. I didn't get home until late in the fourth quarter, by which time the Patriots were just putting a bow on things. Da Queen told me that things got a bit sloppy in the second half and the Browns almost made a game of it, but in the end My Beloved Patriots scored their standard 30+ points and notched up number five. Fourteen to go.

Next week, Dallas. Not going to miss that one.

Fast Money

When I think about the fact that two of Indy Racing's top drivers are switching to NASCAR, I get a sense of vertigo. It seems to me that the racing world is upside down. The fastest, most advanced, most aerodynamic and exciting race cars in America are in the IRL. The big money is in NASCAR. Imagine a world where the NFL was the weak sister to arena football. What if dial-up was more popular than DSL? How about single malt scotch for two bucks a bottle while a Bud Light would set you back $50? That's about where American motorsports finds itself today.

I Am Curious, Cinnamon

Hurray Sweden, for giving us National Cinnamon Bun Day! What a great idea.

I Spy, With My Little Eye

An asteroid named George Takei.

Not News

I turned the radio on yesterday just in time to hear breaking news. A former politician had just announced that he was not running for president.

I'm sorry. I didn't know that this was a requirement. Okay, just so you know, here is my official announcement.

Let the word go forth, from this place and time, to all American voters and to the people of all nations, that I am not running for president. Please do not include my name on your ballots. If you were considering a write-in campaign, thank you, but please restrain yourself. If nominated, I will not run. If elected, I will not serve. Probably. I guess it depends on the salary and health plan.

To be clear, I am not running for any public executive office. This includes all offices at the national, state, and local levels.

Furthermore, legislative offices are right out. Nix also on judicial positions. I would rather not hold a cabinet post in state government. Do not vote for me as clerk of courts, receiver general, or sheriff.

This has been an official announcement. Thank you, and God bless.

Raise Your Glass Tonight

Join the National Toast to remember Michael Jackson.

Silence

The golden age of radio ended 45 years ago today with the final episodes of Suspense and Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar. A lot of people still remember Suspense, which was an excellent program, but I think Johnny Dollar is mostly forgotten. That's a shame. Dollar, especially as played by Bob Baily, was one cool character. Who else could keep you on the edge of your seat just by reading his "action-packed expense account?"

Hawkeye

It's been known for some time that migratory birds use the earth's magnetic field to help them stay on course. Now scientists tell us that some birds can perceive magnetic fields visually. Amazing.

Wisdom

Desmond Tutu says this in For The Bible Tells Me So: “The Bible is the word of God through the word of human beings, speaking in the idiom of their time. And the richness of the Bible comes from the fact that we don't take it as literally so that it was dictated by God.” I really hope this movie comes to my town soon.

All Too Easy

Tip your hat to the Bills. They played with spirit. They were valiant. But they were hopelessly outmatched. The Patriots just slapped them around. By the third quarter their offence was ineffective and their defense was exhausted. I almost felt bad for them. Oh well. Another victory. Three down, sixteen to go.

Autumnal Equinox

My favorite time of the year now commences. It is Autumn in New England, and I am glad.

Finding My Religion

Here's ten beer deities to choose from. I'm partial to Mbaba Mwana Waresa, if only because she has a cool name.
Via: Newsvine.

Clams Got Legs!

No, wait that's not right. How about velociraptors had feathers! I guess they'll have to re-do the CGI for all those Jurassic Park movies.

Beer Inspires Wisdom

It must be true -- Paris Hilton has been banned from Oktoberfest.

Watching Birdwatchers

It's official. There are now 47.8 million Americans who are better birdwatchers than I am.

Scoop Brings One Down in Peru

A meteorite hit Peru, giving off fumes that sickened hundreds. By now a team has started work at Wildfire.

601

Shiver Me Timbers and Such

Happy International Talk Like a Pirate Day, ye landlubbers! Raise high the Jolly Roger and all that. Aye, Jim lad.

Move Mountains

I've been told that planting something as small as a mustard seed is the first step in moving a mountain. Here are a few great ways to plant some Fair Trade seeds in your village.

38 -- 14

Familiar numbers. That's was the score of the game when the Pats beat the Jets. That was the one where they got caught using a video camera to do what every other team in the league does with binoculars. That was also the score last night when the Pats dismantled the Chargers. To those of you who said that the Patriots win because they "cheat" -- here's a great big bowl of crow. Bon appétit.

I loved seeing Bruschi, Brady, and the rest of the guys congratulating Belichick at the end of the game. He got the game ball and a contract extension from Mr. Kraft. And what do you want to bet there's a bonus in that contract that works out to about $500,000?

What's the best part? They can only get better. Brady said it. Vince Wilfork said it. Coach always says it. I love it. And it seems that a lot of the Patriots haters just can't stand it. SI's Michael Silver really needs a waaah!-mbulance.

You know the real reason the haters are upset? It's because my team is the New England Patriots, and all of their teams are the Washington Generals.

Scottish Mummies

Bronze Age Scots practiced mummification. Interesting.

I'm Shocked, Shocked . . .

The green-eyed Pats haters have given themselves a case of the vapors on news of signal-stealing in football. It is, of course, something that is simply never done. Phooey. It just took one weasel like Mangini to point out something that was an open secret throughout the League. Oh, that's why the Jets looked like chumps on opening day -- because the Pats shot some video. Right.

Oh me, oh my. Now the three Superbowl victories are tarnished. This is such a serious infraction. Nonsense. Trying to sneak your way around the salary cap, like the Steelers and 49ers have both been caught doing, is serious. The integrity of the game is really at stake when teams try to turn football into moneyball. The Broncos got caught cheating on the salary cap about ten years ago. Does that fact tarnish John Elway's two Superbowl victories? Of course not.

Yes, the Patriots broke the rules, and yes, it is serious. Is it as serious as cheating on the salary cap, condoning steroid abuse, or encouraging players to injure opposing players, all of which have happened in the NFL? Hell no. This should be dealt with and then we should move on. Perspective. Deal with it.
UPDATE: Shocked, I say!

In Dutch

Business took me back to Amish country for the third time this year. Once again, there was not a single horse & buggy in view. I did see an Amish guy driving a horse and cart, but that doesn't count. I figure he didn't get the email.

That's right. The Amish have email. They use it to plot against me.

Apples and Honey

Happy New Year to all my Jewish friends.

What a Finish!

When Dixon ran out of ethanol on the last lap I fell out of my chair. Unbelievable! Congratulations Dario! I know it's a cliche, but it's a shame that there can't be two winners. They're both such wonderful drivers and such nice guys. What an exciting race and what an exciting season. I can't wait until next year. The IRL keeps getting better and better.

Message Delivered

I think My Beloved Patriots sent a message to the rest of the NFL today. The rest of you should consider this a rebuilding year.

It's going to be a good season.

Fair Trade World

More and more we hear about people working to get their city or town to commit to Fair Trade. Fair Trade towns are one thing, but how about Fair Trade nations? That's huge.

You never know where Fair Trade will pop up next.

Celebrate Reading

Today is International Literacy Day!

Live Long and Prosper

Happy birthday Star Trek. 41 years on the final frontier.

Madeleine L'Engle

Madeleine L'Engle died Thursday. Meg and Charles Wallace will live forever.

The Fair Trade Meme

Here's a terrific list of ten ways you can introduce people to Fair Trade. I'll add one more -- volunteer at your local Ten Thousand Villages. Part of the job is to educate people about Fair Trade. It's a great feeling when you see someone realize that they can make a real difference in the world just by shopping conscientiously.

Mean Kitty Song

Love this:

Via: Davezilla

Yes, Please

The inventor of deep-fried Coke had done it again; deep-fried cookie dough! There should be some special category of Nobel prize for this guy.

Anger Management

It seems to me that Dario Franchitti is a very classy guy. His bosses? Not so much.

Dry White Toast

I'm eating like Elwood Blues today, which is pretty good news. This morning's single piece of toast is the first thing I've eaten since Saturday. Today I feel pretty poor. Yesterday was terrible.

IRL 2008

The Indy Racing League announced some technical changes for next year. The real car of the future will have paddle shifters and modified power steering for road/street courses. About time for both, I say.

They also teased us by saying that a future announcement would be big news about a new venue. I'm betting that it is going to be a road course at Indy.

Say It Ain't So Rodney!

Rodney Harrison has been suspended for four games. He has admitted to using a banned substance and to receiving human growth hormone. He says that he did not take steroids and did not take the substance to gain a competitive edge but to speed healing after an injury. Rodney has stated that he understands that he is a role model and apologized to all those he let down. He made it clear that this was something that he was solely responsible for and his teammates knew nothing of it. As part of his statement he said: "I apologize to the entire New England Patriots organization and the fans who have supported me so faithfully over the past five seasons here, through Super Bowls, injury, through ups and downs. They have supported me. I definitely, definitely appreciate them."

The First Moon Shot

Man first travelled to the moon 105 years ago today -- at the movies. A Trip to the Moon was the first science fiction film, and it's still a good show. Finest kind.

T is For Tribble

The Trouble With Tribbles, as it would have been if adapted by Edward Gorey.
Wonderful.
(via: MetaFilter)

A Very Small Fig Leaf

This is a follow-up to an earlier entry. Barnes & Noble has reversed itself and will now carry the controversial O.J. Simpson book. About time. Anyone who knows anything about the book business could tell that this nasty little volume would be in immediate demand. When internet pre-orders and media attention proved that the emperor had no clothes, B&N had little choice.

The Reverse Missionary Position

While I don't agree with their interpretation of scripture, I find myself perversely pleased that Kenya is sending missionaries to the United States. I guess what goes around does come around.

Last Call

Raise a glass tonight to the memory of the one and only Beer Hunter, the late, great Michael Jackson. Through his informative and exuberant writing Jackson inspired thousands of drinkers and brewers. Through his books he was my teacher and guide when I was but a young and enthusiastic drunkard. I learned more about beer and whiskies from him than from any other writer. The next time you have an oatmeal stout, send up a prayer of thanks. It was Jackson's advocacy for the style that encouraged Samuel Smith to bring it back. He did more to influence what was in our glasses and what we knew about it than any other writer. He'll be remembered for his books, his television series The Beer Hunter, and for making the world a much nicer and richer place in which to live.

Fast Dancer

The IRL's Spiderman might also be its Fred Astaire. I'm flabbergasted.

Steak Bombed

A sub shop in Derry, NH is trying to trademark the "steak bomb." How does a company that isn't yet 20 years old think they can own a sandwich that's been a regional favorite since, well, forevah? That's wicked stupid. I've been eating steak bombs since before my arteries got clogged, and that's a long time, let me tell you. What's next for these guys? You suppose they'll try to trademark "whoopie pies?"

And the Protagonist is an Obnoxious Leper!

A few years ago, when I was reading a lot of fantasy, folks would shove Lord Foul's Bane into my ink stained hands and tell me that I had to read it.

"It's the first book of The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant," they would say, with a fervid gleam in their eyes.

"Yes, it says that on the cover," I would point out politely.

"It's a trilogy, and there's another whole trilogy after that!"

"Interesting," I would answer politely.

"This guy is pulled out of our world into this fantasy world. But the whole time he thinks that he's just in a coma dreaming. That's why they call him 'The Unbeliever.' It's really grim. And the protagonist is an obnoxious leper! Cool huh?"

"Oh yes," I'd say. "Sounds like loads of fun. I'll put that at the top of my list."

I should have.

Now I find myself doing some informal research that led me back to these books. That led me back to one of my favorite booksellers, Pandemonium Books & Games in Central Square, Cambridge. Tyler, the guy that owns the place, averred that Thomas Covenant was fantasy's second great anti-hero, after Elric. As you know, oh best beloved reader, I recently read the Elric novels, so I let him know I was chain-smoking my fantasy anti-heroes. He warned me that the first book starts out a bit slow, as if Donaldson is learning his craft as he goes along. It picks up later on in the book and the rest of the series is brilliant.

Tyler was, of course, dead on. It does drag a little in some parts of the first book, but stick with it. You will be more than amply rewarded.

In Lord Foul's Bane we meet Thomas Covenant, a man who has been stripped of everything that gave his life meaning. Once a successful writer, husband and father, he somehow contracted leprosy. Now his wife has left him, taking their child. He is a pariah in his community. He has learned to deal with his grim new existence by accepting leprosy as being the defining reality of his life.

One day, while out on some business, defying the shunning of his neighbors by imposing his presence upon them, he meets an old beggar who tells him to "be true." Covenant then stumbles in front of a moving car. He falls into unconsciousness, only to wake up in a fantasy world called "The Land."

A major theme of the series is Covenant's insistence that The Land is nothing but a dream, an elaborate hallucination caused by a blow to the head. It seems to be a reasonable theory. Much of what happens in the land parallels Covenant's struggles with physical and mental illness. Early in the series there is some ambiguity. Is Covenant a reincarnated hero, the wielder of the magic of the white gold ring, or is he in a coma? Or is there, perhaps, another truth?

This is a rich and complex story that deals with themes of health, morality, human frailty, honor, sacrifice, and redemption. I was halfway through the second book, The Illearth War, when I found myself describing the series to someone at a party. I told her that it was a great read, if you didn't mind hating the protagonist. Thomas Covenant is a self-loathing, emotionally tortured, wreck of a man. For most of the series he can't seem to control his emotional outbursts, lashing out at those who hardly deserve it. At the same time he keeps himself and much of his feelings under a constant, disciplined control. For a while I hated him, then I pitied him, and in the end I was on his side. He is one of the most intriguing characters I've ever read, changing and growing as the series progresses.

For all his command of the language (and he does like to show off his vocabulary) Donaldson doesn't write with the poetic beauty of, say, Tolkien, but his descriptions of The Land and its people are powerful nonetheless. As I began the third book, The Power That Preserves, I knew that I had come to care about this place and the fantastic characters that populated it. The climactic battles are both thrilling and moving. While the ending was wholly satisfying, I found myself looking forward to the second trilogy, as I wanted to spend more time exploring The Land. Highly recommended.

Cat Burglars

Cat Burglars 1, Cops 0.

Puffins!

Thanks to the fine people of Project Puffin the islands of coastal Maine is once again home to that marvelous bird. I've always loved puffins. They look like penguins, but they can fly! And they have pretty beaks. That's good enough for me.

Defending the Indefensible

Once upon a time I was a bookseller. I've worked at a few bookstores. I've worked with a lot of other booksellers. Most of them had something in common, other than a love of books; a sense of dedication to the principle of free speech. We believed that if people wanted to buy a book it was our duty to stock that book, and those who urged censorship upon us be damned. Certainly there were times that we didn't like the book. Sometimes we even despised the book. We hated The Turner Diaries. We chose not to give it a place on our front table or do anything to promote it. But to take it off our shelves? To put a barrier between book and reader? Never. Free speech isn't about defending speech you agree with -- it is about defending speech you dislike or even abhor. If all speech isn't free then no speech can be free.

That's why I was disappointed when I read that Barnes & Noble had announced that they would refuse to stock the new book by O.J. Simpson. They said it was because they didn't expect the book to sell well, but now that pre-release orders have shown a serious (and entirely predictable) demand, even that fig leaf is gone. They are choosing boycott this awful little book because they don't like it or they don't want the bad publicity that might come from selling it. With that they have surrendered their traditional bookseller's role as defenders of free speech.

Don't get me wrong. They have a right to refuse to sell anything they don't want. But as booksellers they have a duty to defend the free expression of ideas. They know that. That's why they pretended that they weren't boycotting the book over content, merely over a supposed lack of reader interest.

Booksellers, I believe, have a moral duty to defend free speech, even at the cost of losing the business of those who want to restrict expression to that which they agree with. It is a duty that elevates the bookseller beyond the standard shopkeeper and makes the bookstore a citadel of peace and freedom. It is by shirking this duty Barnes & Noble surrenders the citadel and reduces itself to mere shopkeeper -- not a bad thing to be, but not all they once were.

UPDATE: B&N has reversed itself.

Me-ow

The latest Carnival of the Cats is up.

Rock Steady

That's why Scott Dixon won today. He stayed rock steady while AGR fell apart. Marco and Dario took each other out and Danica obviously needs work in the pits.

It's a two man race now. Dixon and Dario will be shooting it out for the last couple of races. Pretty exciting stuff.

Indomitable

Mark your calendars now for the literary event of the season. Tedy Bruschi will be signing his memoir, Never Give Up, at Brookline Booksmith in Coolidge Corner on Saturday, September 1, at 2:00. Full tilt, full time.

Go Moto

I don't know why, but it would tickle me to death to see Danica Patrick win her first IRL race at the Motorola 300 in her Motorola Special.

Darwin Rides the Subway

I like a nice stroll as much as the next guy, but walking along the electrified track of a rapid-transit train might not have been the best choice. As for crawling under a stopped train . . . simply shocking.

Must. Try. This.

Five simple words: Bacon-Wrapped Stuffed Hot Dogs.

Read a Book!

It should surprise no one that 27% of American adults did not read a book last year. A few hours spent among the great un-read usually impels me to retreat to the nearest bookstore, library, or to the safe confines of my own study.

I'd like to think of this as good news. 73% of American adults did read at least one book in the last year. Better than I thought. Hurray America!

I'm Back

Did you miss me? No? Oh. Well, I guess that's good. Anyway, I'm back. I've been away because my trusty, rusty, old computer finally gave up the ghost. I've got a new machine and I'm feeling good.

Of course I have no time at all. But at least I have a computer.

Invisible Amish

For the second time this year I spent a week in Amish country and didn't see a single horse and buggy. What's the deal with that? Message to all you Amish guys who read this weblog: Go out for a drive now and then, will you?

Yes, I know you're out there. You don't fool me with that "no electricity" stuff.

Another Really Long Drive

For a guy who doesn't own a car I do seem to find myself behind the wheel a lot. I did a lot of driving yesterday (business, not pleasure). I saw some nice things, like hawks soaring, hot-air balloons floating, deer nibbling grass, and a Model A Ford on the highway. I also saw a lot of rest-stops, construction, and traffic. Worst of all I missed the Firestone Indy 400. Hooray for TK! Sounds like it was an ugly race though. Oh well. Perhaps the next one will be a little cleaner. And maybe I'll get to see it.

On the Beach

Good news for our little friend, the piping plover.

Walk With an Egyptian

The trouble with ancient Egyptian history is quantity. There is too much of it and too little of it.

It’s hard to get your head around how much history we’re talking about. Egypt had dynasties that lasted longer that the whole history of the United States. The English monarchy stretches back over a thousand years, and is still only a fraction of pharaonic history. From the assassination of Julius Caesar to next Tuesday would count as only about two thirds of ancient Egypt. From the earliest kings to the end of the late period, we’re looking at about 3000 years of history.

You’ll read that Set, for example, was an evil god. And a hero god. The mother of Isis is Hathor. And Nut. Bast is Bastet. She is a lioness. And a kitty. She is a goddess of perfumes. Except when she isn’t. She is also the goddess Wadjet. So is Mut, who is also Bast.

Confused? Of course. Egyptian religion was by no means static, and with all that time things changed a lot. Different parts of the land might have different views of the same gods or even different gods at the same time, and these differences would work themselves out, blending and merging, one set of ideas replacing another, all while the Nile rose and fell.

And while the Nile rose and fell wars were fought, dynasties came and went, priestly orders became rich and powerful and lost power and wealth. Crops were gathered, records were kept, justice was dispensed, grain was stored, taxes were levied, poems were written, bread was baked, pyramids and temples were built, paper was made, beer was brewed, crypts were excavated, walls were painted, herds were fed, people lived their lives, died, and were entombed.

Here’s the part about there being too little history. While all this was going on no one thought to stop and write down all the details. What were the lives of the people like? How did they live? What did they think? Who were they?

I just stumbled across a book in the Royal Library that answers some of these questions. John Romer’s Ancient Lives is a history of one village that existed near the city of Thebes, from about 1300 to about 1050 BC. This was a special village. It’s citizens were artisans, architects, laborers, and scribes. This was the village of the royal tomb makers.

We’re not talking about pyramids here. It had been centuries since anyone had made one of those. Pyramids were as distant to them as Shakespeare, the Reformation, and the Ming Dynasty are to us. Egyptians of this period buried their kings in a royal valley. It was the job of the villagers to dig out the crypts and prepare them for their eventual inhabitants.

The village was a remarkable place, filled with all kinds of people, educated scribes and hearty laborers, their wives, children, and parents. They worked, played, fought, prayed, made works of surpassing beauty, committed crimes, got rich, got poor, and generally lived. And like all living things, the village eventually died, leaving some of the records of the scribes, the things that they built, the foundations of their houses, and the detritus of their lives.

It is from these little things that Romer pieces together the lives of the tomb builders. A mention by a scribe here, a bit of graffiti there, an inscription in this tomb, a mention in that royal record, these are the puzzle parts that come together to tell the story of real people of long ago. The reader meets scribes, apprentices, and foremen, cops and politicians, all sorts of regular folks. We get to know their names, know how they lived, what they ate, what made them happy and who they were feuding with. We see how big changes that make it into history books affected the lives of the people.

The period covered includes some of the most remarkable events in the history of the little village. We see the good times, when the royal commissions poured in. We see the busy times, when pharaoh after pharaoh died young, and the tomb-makers had to scramble to make the partly completed places ready. Romer tells us about the lean times that culminated in what may be the first strike in the history of labor. He tells us about the bad times, when the tomb makers became some of the earliest tomb looters, and how the justice system of the time dealt with it.

It’s a magic act that Romer performs here. An alchemy of impressive scholarship and good writing that bring the ancient dead back to life. A used copy can be had for pretty short money. More that worth it.

Aye Carumba!

I used to love The Simpsons. It was some of the sharpest comedy I've ever seen, combining genuine wit with outright belly laughs. Time passed, writers moved on, and The Simpsons jumped the shark. I'm not sure exactly when. Some say it was around 1999. I think it might have been as early as '95 with "Treehouse of Horror VI." Some say it never jumped (everyone is entitled to an opinion, even if it is wrong). There are people who hold that it jumped back and the last few seasons have been good. I couldn't say, as I haven't seen much of the show for a few years.

Now comes this sprinkle-covered behemoth, The Simpsons Movie. I've seen a range of reviews. I've read that it is one of the best films of the year. I've read that it is little more than an long episode, so why spend ten bucks? And of course I've read that it isn't very good at all.

So what's a busy philosopher-king to do? I turn to my royal advisers, that is you, my best beloved readers. To the left you will see a survey thingie (it will be up for a few days). Please let me know what I ought to do. Is this a woo-hoo or a d'oh?

Danger UXB

I once had an excellent history professor who liked to say that "the past is not dead; the past is not even past." I thought about that maxim when I read that a V1 had been found, possibly alive and well, in London. I don't imagine that Londoners need to be reminded of history -- it is crowded all around them. The bomb landed over 60 years ago in the Isle of Dogs, which is not an island, and has borne that peculiar name for at least 500 years.

Travel advisory: With Marsh Wall closed between Millharbour and Limeharbour (I love British place-names), drivers are advised to use the bridge on Pepper Street. Unless there are apple bonkers guarding it.

Another Road Trip

We took a drive up the coast to Freeport, Maine yesterday with a thought to do a little shopping. Nice town, Freeport. If you like tourists. And shopping. We wandered around a bit, stopping in at one quaint place or another. There's a lot of quaintness in Freeport. If I wanted something quaint, something with a moose on it, or something that let people know I had been to Maine, then I was in the right place.

The real reason for our trip was to visit the big L.L. Bean store. We knew we were in the right place when we saw the sand sculpture of a boot.



That's got to be the biggest boot made out of sand that I ever saw.

Then we got down to some serious shopping. Da Queen found a nice jacket and I got myself a couple of cardigans. Perfect for this week's tropical weather.

Our long drive back along the now crepuscular highway was a bit tiring, but Da Queen kept me awake by feeding me potato chips. We listened to the latter half of a Red Sox game which we started to pick up as we got closer to Massachusetts. The Sox won. We made it home. The cat gave us an earful when we got back. Life is good.

Seriously though, that's a big boot.

I Could Be Wrong, But I Don't Think So

Here's two things that I thought I knew: I love Monk and I don't like hip-hop.

Then last week came Mr. Monk and the Rapper. It was a pretty good episode featuring Snoop Dogg as the eponymous rapper who had been wrongly accused of murder. Snoop not only played the role, he performed a hip-hop version of the opening theme. Check it out:

Here are the revised two things that I think I know: I love Monk and I don't like most hip-hop. I think.

Cut Man

Raging Bull is one of those movies that I know I’m supposed to have seen but never quite got around to it. I suppose it intimidated me. I’m something of a lightweight. Comedies, musicals, and other forms of fantasy are more of my thing. The life of Jake LaMotta is not anyone’s idea of a fantasy. Nonetheless, I took me down to the movie palace to go a few rounds with the champ.

It is a stark, dark, and occasionally brutal movie. It is, among other things, a meditation on what it is to be a man, on masculinity itself. It is also a work of art, a product of the collaboration of two creative forces, Robert DiNiro and Martin Scorsese. Combine that with some terrific acting, great editing, brilliant cinematography, and wonderful sound work, and you have one of the most critically acclaimed films of all time.

This is not so much a movie about boxing as it is about a man who was a boxer and what it was that drove him. The fight scenes are justifiably famous. The action is intense and savage. Unlike most movies about the “sweet science” we get no views from any point of view outside the ring. The viewer is in the ring with the fighters, caught in the violence. There is nothing stylized or heroic here. It can be hard to watch and it is impossible to turn away.

Outside the ring Jake’s life is no less brutal. Jake can be charming, but there is always an edge, always a feeling that any moment could turn ugly. LaMotta is an abusive, domineering husband. He loses his first wife due to his unconcealed serial philandering. He becomes obsessed that his second wife is cuckolding him – an inner demon that leads him to some of his most brutal and eventually self-destructive actions.

Manhood, and Jake’s feelings of inadequacy, is the prevailing theme of the movie, as suggested by an early scene where Jake is speaking to his brother (and manager) Joey:

Jake: What's wrong with me? My hands.
Joey: Your hands? What about 'em?
Jake: I got these small hands. I got a little girl's hands.

This is a psychologically and philosophically complex film, dealing with issues of love, jealousy (Roger Ebert once called it "an Othello for our times"), aging, loyalty, and redemption. It’s one of the best American movies ever made. I put off seeing it for a quarter of a century. Don’t make that mistake.

The Stealer of Souls

When I was but a beardless lad my pals and I would get together and play Dungeons & Dragons. Being a studious little fellow I would delve into inspirational literature in the sword & sorcery genre. I read some of the greats, some of the pretty goods, and a lot of the really cheesy; I enjoyed them all. I remember having read the first book of the Elric series, Elric of Melniboné by Michael Moorcock. I guess it didn’t make that great an impression on me, as I never read beyond that.

This year I’ve been doing some research into a literary theme, and that work led me back to Elric. I re-read that first book and continued with the other five books in the original saga.

I’ve read that Moorcock intended to turn sword & sorcery upside down by creating, in Elric, an anti-hero who was the opposite of the genre’s foremost archetype, Robert E. Howard’s Conan. Conan is physically strong, Elric is so weak and sickly that he must rely on drugs or other means to live. Conan is a big, hairy, manly guy, where Elric is a wispy albino whose beauty is described in almost feminine terms. Conan is, of course, a barbarian, terrified of sorcery, who climbs from obscurity to a position of wealth and power. When we meet Elric he is the young emperor of his people, a powerful sorcerer of a race of sorcerers. His career goes in the opposite direction.

When I began my re-read I could recall only two images from my youthful acquaintance with Elric: I remembered the protagonist himself, thin, impossibly pale, with red eyes and a terrible black sword (more on that later), and I remembered the astounding decadence of his people, the Melnibonéans. The image I took with me was of a choir of slaves. Each slave’s vocal cords had been surgically altered so that he could produce only one note. They were then arranged to form the components of a musical instrument of torture. When they were whipped in a precise arrangement their screams of pain came together to create an exquisite music of agony. To me this is a perfect illustration of the artistic amorality of Elric’s people.

Elric himself is a little different. He may not be amoral enough for his own good. He is still driven by Melnibonéan passions and possesses Melnibonéan cruelty, but he is also brooding, trying to understand the new concepts of ethics and compassion that he has heard of from the new kingdoms of men. In the treacherous court in which he lives, this may be a fatal weakness.

I’ll spare you the details of plot, as I’m not one for spoilers. Let’s just say that the play of swords and sorcery are a big part of Elric’s career. He loses a kingdom, he gains a kingdom, he loses a kingdom . . . he loves, he loses, he grieves . . . he leads great battles, he wins, he loses, he survives . . . let’s just say it’s a full life.

In Elric’s world good and evil are hardly considered. The great cosmic battle that consumes lives and kingdoms is that between the forces of law and chaos. These themes are personified by various demons, demigods, and elementals. The world is their battlefield, and Elric resents feeling a pawn in their great game. This doesn’t stop him from using his sorcery to call on their power to help him in great need, but as the saga goes on he becomes increasingly frustrated. Elric acknowledges that he may think too much for his own contentment, but he seeks after answers that are beyond even his gods.

Poor Elric. A thinking man’s fantasy anti-hero, a rock & roll icon, he is trapped in a role not of his choosing. As the series continues the reader learns that the albino prince is a manifestation of “The Eternal Champion.” In Michael Moorcock’s imagining the universe is split into an infinite number of iterations, a “multiverse.” Throughout time, space, and infinite dimensions there always appears a hero. He always has certain characteristics. He is always a great warrior, a leader of men. He often has a partner or sidekick. These partners are often versions of the Warrior also. All but one of them are unaware that they have lived and will live these other lives in other realities. They don’t seem to have much of a choice; they must take on the mantle of champion. And most of them have a famous or powerful sword.

Elric, the physically weakest of them all, holds the most powerful of weapons. The enormous black-bladed Stormbringer makes Elric virtually invincible in battle. The weapon seems to be sentient, and it is hungry for blood and souls. When it kills it doesn’t simply slice a man, it drinks his soul into itself. It gives some of that strength and life-force to its wielder, so Elric remains strong and vital. Perhaps wielder wasn’t the right word. Sometimes it is hard to say who is the master, sword or swordsman. When the thirst for souls is on it and Elric does battle, Stormbringer seems to take over, directing the sword hand, moving with preternatural speed and accuracy. But all this power has a price. Stormbringer seems to love the blood of those Elric loves most of all.

While this series totally rocks and should be required reading for fantasy fans, I do have one serious criticism. Time and again Elric is in dire straits. Certain doom stares him in his thin white face. Nothing can possibly save him now. But at the last moment he uses a barely remembered and terribly convenient bit of sorcery and calls upon some supernatural being to get him out of the jam. Story after story, book after book, deus ex machina just stumble over each other to help him continue the saga.

Still, it’s great stuff – big, bold, and fun, beautiful and terrible, vividly imagined, told with verve and charm. It’s a pity the cheap paperback versions are out of print right now, but you can pick them up at used bookstores or on the net for short money. You could get it at the library in Tanelorn, but good luck finding that.

Happy Birthday Mr. Dixon

Scott Dixon made it three wins in a row today at the Honda 200 at Mid-Ohio. What a year he's having. It was a great race to watch, except for the first lap when three fourths of AGR crashed into each other. That's the second time this year that Marco Andretti has been upside down in the grass, but I guess that's racing.

Unlikely Overheard Phrase of the Day

In Coolidge Corner, Brookline: "I issued a lasagna disclaimer."

News Flash

This morning's news brings a report that the latest "Harry Potter" novel has been released. Who knew? Memo to publisher: a little PR could have helped.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Harry Potter novels, it is a series of books intended mostly for young readers. The eponymous character is a boy who attends a school for wizards. At the same time he also must occasionally face the forces of evil.

As it happens I've read the first four books in the series. I found them to be great fun. I'll probably get around to this latest book, the seventh, in due time. So far the series gets my thumbs up (which will probably boost sales tremendously). If your local bookseller does not carry the books they can probably order them for you. Failing that, most of the major online book vendors can mail them to you.

That's a Big Pancake

My folks took us out to eat the other day in Salem. Red's Sandwich Shop is one of those places that the locals usually don't tell the tourists about. It's been that way pretty much since the 18th century. It's a nice, cheap place with good food and plenty of local color. I was in a breakfasty kind of mood, so I had a pancake. We all, in fact, had a pancake. Not a stack of pancakes mind you, just one. Since Red's pancakes are nice and thick and cover a whole plate, you really don't need more than that. If you are a maple fanatic like me you'll have to bring your own syrup, but I managed to survive with the fake stuff. I had a nice side of bacon, my dad had some ham, and a good time was had by all. I'm going to have to come back sometime when I'm in a lunchy kind of mood.

Road Trip

With the prospect of a vacation looming, Da Queen and I discussed the possibilities. I decreed that we should get ourselves a car and go somewhere we don't usually get to. Da Queen, ever loyal, agreed. I announced that we should go north. Da Queen gave me her full support. I declared a moratorium on penny pinching and that a shopping trip was called for. Da Queen shouted huzzahs. I deigned to inform her that Maine, and its outlet stores for men's clothing, would be our destination. Da Queen praised my capacity for flexibility and pointed out that New Hampshire, and its fine quilt and needleworks shops, would be better yet. I was, of course, adamant. I put my royal foot down. I command. It is for others to follow.

And so we embarked on our trip to New Hampshire. First things first, I got us a Zipcar for the day. North I pointed my rented steed, and north we went. The miles rolled by and the view through the windows went from crappy to pleasant to downright pretty. Lovely vistas opened before us. Views worth pulling over for presented themselves. But I hurried on, knowing the urgency of our mission. We were headed to the yet more beautiful lakes region, to the north of Winnipesaukee, and the little town of Center Harbor. This, to my crafty and crafting Queen, is like unto Mecca, as it is the home of Keepsake Quilting.

I'd tell you all about it, but I didn't actually go inside. I spent my time shopping at more manly places, like the nearby liquor store, where I found good deals on whiskey and whisky. I also found time to fill an Adirondack chair and read a good book.

The ride home was taken at a more leisurely pace. We stopped to play a round of miniature golf. I finished four over par. We drove through some pretty towns (and some not-so-pretty towns) and got caught in a sudden downpour. It wasn't long before we noticed a rainbow forming to our left. We took a good look at it while waiting at a red light. I had to laugh. We were at the intersection of Route 3 and Rainbow Road (really). I sang a little song and pulled off the road to take a picture.

Here is half a rainbow. A double rainbow, in fact.

Here is the other half.

As we got closer to home we started to get hungry, so I drove us through the drive-though at Kelly's on Route 1. Kelly's is my favorite coming home comfort food. Da Queen had her favorite, the fish plate, which is a couple of nice big pieces of fried scrod on a bed of fries and onion rings. I get the rings. I thought about the clam chowder, which I love, but went with Kelly's world famous roast beef sandwich. It was wicked good with a coffee frappe.

It's nice to get out once in a while, but it's even nicer to come home. We made up with the cat, wondered briefly about all the money we managed to spend, and collapsed into bed. Life, sometimes, is pretty good.

Scott Dixon -- Superstar

Today I officially eat my words. Scott Dixon is a superstar. Back-to-back wins, one a road course, the other an oval -- and he was the defending champion in both races. Amazing.

Who Wide Web

Excellent collection of Doctor Who links right here. Via the always wonderful A Sweet, Familiar Dissonance.

Scott Dixon Owns Watkins Glen

Dixon pulled off the hat-trick a few minutes ago by winning his third straight on the Watkins Glen road course. Earlier this year I said that he wasn't one of the league's superstars. I may just have to eat crow for that one. Great job by Dixon and an exciting race all-around. There was a bit of foolishness at the end when some of Penske's guys got into a shoving match with some of AGR's guys. For a while it looked like the only grown-up out there was Marco Andretti. Speaking of Marco, what a nice couple of races he has put together. He's pulled himself out of his sophomore slump. The kid's got heart, and obviously a lot of brain too.

As If a Million Drunkards Suddenly Cried Out in Terror

Terrible news. Beer prices are going up. This because farmers are switching from barley to corn for ethanol.

Why oh why am I not listened to? If we had switched over to jatropha fuel when I told you about it this national tragedy could have been avoided.

But no. It's enough to drive me to drink.

I Want Everything I've Ever Seen In the Movies!

Before it was a movie, before it was on Broadway . . . it was a movie. Mel Brooks' original 1968 version of The Producers is one of my favorite comedies. Zero Mostel is big, broad, and outrageous as Max Bialystock, a producer who is reduced to conning little old ladies to make a living. Gene Wilder is small, timid, and sympathetic as Leo Bloom, an insecure accountant. They play off each other like Laurel and Hardy, hilarious and touching. You probably know the plot. They come up with a plan to make a million on Broadway by producing a guaranteed flop. To this end they must find the worst play, the worst director, and the worst actors in the world. They settle on "Springtime For Hitler," a gay romp with Adolf and Eva at Berchtesgaden.

Top 10 reasons you should rush right out and see The Producers:
1. Zero Mostel's face.
2. Leo Bloom discovering that for the first time in his life, he is happy.
3. Ulla working.
4. A production number that will live in infamy.
5. White white white is the color of our carpet.
6. Don't be stupid, be a schmarty.
7. L.S.D.
8. Prisoners of Love.
9. Ulla working. Yes, I know I already listed it. But it bears repeating.
10. No. It's too good.

Tasteless, touching, and after all these years still one of my favorites.

Totally Cool -- To Within 1/2 Degree

I just got the coolest thing. Or the hottest thing, depending on what I'll use it for. It's a CDN ProAccurate Digital Thermometer Model DTQ450! This thing rocks. It has a big, easy to read screen. It is easy to operate. It has a range of -40 to 450 degrees Fahrenheit. It's easy to recalibrate, and Cook's Illustrated says that it measures temperature very quickly -- second only to the $80+ Thermapen. I can't wait to use it.

Here's a big thank-you to the good folks who sent this to me (you know who you are) and thanks also for the book. I'm looking forward to it.

231 Years and Still Going Strong

As sovereign of Glenntopia it is my great pleasure to extend greetings and felicitations to all Americans on this, your national day. May God continue to bless the United States of America.

Up in the Sky, Look!

In 1941 Paramount Pictures decided they wanted to get in on a good thing by producing a series of cartoons based on the latest craze, a new cartoon character called Superman. They went to the Fleischer studio, the guys who were already doing Popeye cartoons for them. What would it take to get them working on a Superman series? The Fleischers were stretched pretty thin. They had just finished their first feature and were working on another. They didn’t really want to take on a big new project, but they didn’t want to admit it, so they told Paramount that it would cost $100,000 per cartoon, four times what the Popeyes cost. Paramount said yes. And thus are classics made.

I just saw all seventeen of the Fleischer Supermans. I was going to write a little essay about them, perhaps with some links where you might see an example or two. I was going to do that, until I read the Wikipedia article. There I found a nice little essay, with stuff that I was going to write about and a lot more that I didn’t know, along with links to every one of the cartoons (down in the footnotes). So there’s no point in me writing it, you see.

Instead I’ll just tell you what I think. And I think I really like these things.

They’re just beautiful. The drawings, the shadowing, the rotoscoped animation, all great. I loved the fanciful deco styling and the thrilling-wonder super-science gizmos. They really captured the spirit of Superman and something of the spirit of the time too.

Okay, they’re great to look at. What about the plots?

Ah. Well. . . . Did I mention that they are great to look at?

They’re not bad, but there is little variation from formula. Something bad happens, Lois gets into trouble, Clark says “This look like a job for Superman,” Lois is rescued, day is saved.

Well, waddya want? It’s ten minutes of superhero joy. Wish-fulfillment. Science-fantasy. The mighty hero protecting us from whatever it is we are afraid of.

I guess that means that in the early 1940s we were afraid of mad scientists. The mad scientist is a personification of science gone mad, and that seems to have given folks the serious jitters back then. It makes sense. The pace of change in the previous fifty years was unprecedented. Before that life had gone on pretty much without change for millennia. Then comes the industrial revolution, automobiles, mass production, airplanes, machine guns, bombers, Zeppelins, radio, telephone, movies, sound recording, skyscrapers, light bulbs, beer in cans, women’s suffrage, and mimeographs. Today we are all neo-jaded, but then the idea of new was still new.

What would science give us next? Unstoppable robots? Rocket cars? Death beams? Living dinosaurs? Earthquake machines? Who will save us?

And sure, we were afraid of crime and natural disasters. But in 1942 and ’43 we were also afraid of Germans, Japanese, and saboteurs in our midst. The Man of Steel takes on those guys too. Some folks have criticized the way Japanese were characterized here. I think it is helpful to try to empathize with the Americans of that time. They weren’t like us. They didn’t know how World War II was going to come out. They felt that they were victims of a sneak attack. They were angry and they were afraid. Fear can distort thinking. Americans were desperate to see their enemies defeated, defanged, and humiliated. Superman could give us the fantasy of instant wish-fulfillment.

I’ll wrap it up with a word about one of my favorite people – Lois Lane. Yes, she is the requisite damsel in distress, but somehow Lois is always Lois. She is smart, strong-willed, courageous, and obviously a good writer. She also happens to be kind of a babe (at least as seen in cartoons 2 through 16). But I don’t think the Fleischer crew was particularly good at drawing realistic women. They got Lois right (through the magical rotoscope) but that’s where the work ended. Every other woman they draw looks just like Lois. Add glasses to this one, make that one a blond.

Whatever. See these for the pure fun of watching Superman while he was still new. See these for a glimpse of what fired the mind of folks in our past. Or just see them because you like good cartoons.

The Curse of Memory

If your life was on video tape,
Wouldn't everything be all right,
When your head hurts the morning after,
You could roll it back to late last night.
You could replay all the good parts,
And cut out what you don't like.
Oh wouldn't you be in good shape,
If your life was on video tape.
--Steve Goodman

I always thought that was a good idea. Edit out the stuff you don't like and replay the good memories. Pity it will never happen . . . or will it? Now, through the miracle of psychopharmacology, it just might.

The article gets bonus points for creating a tenuous Star Trek connection and for including a picture of Rayna from "Requiem For Methuselah."

Moving Into the Slow Lane

Word has reached the Glenntopia Sports Desk that IndyCar champion Dan(oops) Sam Hornish, Jr. will probably be moving down to NASCAR full time next season. I guess that's where the money is these days, but it sure is a pity. I'll miss seeing him in a race car.

Raise a Glass of Canadian Club

And toast Dario Franchitti. What a season he's having! Just one question. What's a Scotsman doing promoting a Canadian whisky?

Ah racing. It's a funny old game.

Hi There. I Want To Talk To You About Ducts.

Do you know what the most terrifying thing is about Terry Gilliam's Brazil? It was released 22 years ago and it may be more relevant today than it was in 1985. Gilliam's dystopia is an urban hell where the divide between rich and poor is more stark than ever, government has extended it's tentacled reach into every room and crawlspace of our lives, and terrorism is part of the dull routine of daily existence.

Jonathan Pryce plays Sam Lowry, a man who works as an unimportant government bureaucrat and lives in his dreams as a romantic hero. He is being pressured to move up to a "better" job, but Sam knows that up just means deeper into the machine. He is content to live his waking hours in his low stress little job and spending the rest of his life battling monsters and saving the girl of his dreams.

This Orwellian world is filled with its own kind of monsters. Cruelty hides behind every euphemism. The mechanism of the police state is justified by terrorism. Random terror is common, but no one seems to have ever seen a terrorist -- the only real rebel is someone who would dare fix your air conditioning without the proper paperwork.

So what's a little guy to do? Fight it, and be crushed? Join it, and destroy your own humanity? Or escape like Sam and his co-workers in the Department of Records, into the fantasy of dreams and movies? Escape by any means possible. Is that, in the end, the best we can do? Brazil, I think, says yes. I, I think, agree.

Second Biggest Cow I've Ever Seen

While I was on the road last week I had the chance to take in a minor league baseball game. You just gotta love minor league ball. The quality of game isn't as good, but they're trying hard and sometimes you get to see nice play or two. It's not just the game that makes it great. It's all the goofy stuff they do between innings. I was at beautiful Clipper Magazine Stadium to watch the Lancaster Barnstormers take on the Camden Riversharks (what the hell is a rivershark anyway?). Along with baseball I saw a trivia contest, a rock-paper-scissors championship, kids running the bases for prizes, frisbees thrown into the crowd, and all kinds of nonsense. But the capper, the one that made my week, was the giant cow.

Late in the game they rolled a giant inflated cow into the outfield. It had the Turkey Hill logo on both sides, which is a locally popular chain of convenience stores and a pretty good ice cream. They got some guy out of the crowd, blindfolded him, spun him around, and had him try to find the cow. With the help of us fools in the seats yelling directions, he found it and, with one mighty push, tipped it over. Giant inflatable cow tipping! Where else can you get that much value for your entertainment dollar?

The home team lost, by the way. Not that it matters. I had a good time and I have the T-Shirt to prove it.

Me in NYC

I had a couple of stopovers in New York City last week and I found it to be . . . interesting. It was loud. It was crowded. Parts of it smelled bad. It was old and it was new. It was trashy and it was flashy.


It was big.


It was vulgar.

It was interesting.

I expected people there to be rude and wasn't entirely disappointed. At one place I ordered a sandwich and a beer. The woman working the counter told me she needed to see my ID. I reached for it and she snapped "Cash only!" Well duh. She realized that I was showing her my ID while handing her cash and looked a little chagrined, but no less rude.

On the other hand the lady at the Nathan's Hot Dogs stand was very nice and wished me a good trip. That, and the hot dog was very good. And I met a guy on the train who was all right, despite being a Yankees fan. He pointed out some of the sights and regaled me with dirty jokes. Good guy.

So then, what about New York? There's probably a whole lot of it yet to see. Perhaps I'll drop in again someday when I have more time to look around.

Eek.

I was waiting for a streetcar the other day when a rat leapt from behind a rail, skittered across the platform, by my feet, and under a trash can. After the initial shock a thought occurred to me -- Y'know that new Disney movie, the one about a rat in a kitchen? That might not be such a good idea after all.

It Followed Me Home! Can I Keep It?

Just a quick little bird-spotting note here. Last week I took a couple of eight hour rides on Amtrak. Passing through some pretty country in Rhode Island I saw a few herons standing out in some shallow water. Pretty neat. Not a bird I see in my own neighborhood. This afternoon Da Queen and I took a walk to the grocery store. Guess what flew by us at rooftop level? Yup.

Home Again

I've been on the road for a while. Now I'm back. And very tired. I'll tell you about it later. Going to sleep now.

D + 63 Years

63 years ago today Allied forces under the command of General Eisenhower landed on the beaches of Normandy and began the invasion of Europe. Despite heavy losses they pressed on, moved inland, and set western Europe free.

If today's journalists had reported on this event they would certainly point out that the invasion had no clear exit strategy. True enough, as U.S. forces continue to occupy Germany to this day. I would like to know when the Germans will be capable of defending themselves and when we can bring the troops home.

Pi Guy

I’ve always been fascinated by stories that are told from the point of view of someone whose grip on reality is a bit shaky. The literature or cinema of madness touches on elements of fantasy and horror. The reader or viewer is forced to navigate through the work without a reliable guide and must decide what is real and what exists only in the mind of the protagonist. What can I say, I like a challenge.

Pi (1998) is just such a challenge. Directed and co-written by Darren Aronofsky, it is the story of obsessive mathematician Max Cohen. Max’s world is a black-and-white one. Not the standard black-and-white we usually see on the screen, which is mostly shades of gray, but a stark black-and-white that signals to the viewer that this world view will be different from our own.

Max believes all that is in nature can be expressed in numbers. He says that if he can graph those numbers patterns emerge. Therefore, there are patterns everywhere in nature. He is looking for those patterns. He studies the stock market, which he sees as a type of organism that represents the global economy and as such is influenced by the actions of billions of minds. He thinks that he will be able to program his computer to predict the market and thereby be closer to understanding the patterns of nature.

Gosh, a movie about math. Sounds pretty exciting, right? Actually, this is less about math and more about obsession, mind, and the human spirit. It is, in fact, something of a thriller. Max is being followed by a group of suits who think that his work could give them the key to getting very rich. He is also being followed by a group of Kabbalists who believe that his research could give them the key to the secrets of the universe. Meanwhile his friend and mentor Sol is telling him that the path he is on can lead only to madness, and it looks like Sol may be right. Max suffers hallucinations, migraines, and blackouts. He increasingly shuts out human contact and has turned his apartment into a sort of supercomputer with himself as a component. The pace of the movie gets faster as Max reaches for enlightenment while spiraling into insanity.

As I said, Pi is a challenge. It’s not one of those movies that lets you relax and watch the pretty pictures. It requires and rewards engaged and thoughtful viewing.

Oh, by the way, the secret to the universe is 88450962738635927503375196794306759962173159040169
41344340076296835915743375167911976157334751953759
20401694343151239621353184932676605800621596380716
39950137145995438750765589253387561875035402998115
2863950711207613.

And here you thought it was 42.

Tough Day at the Milwaukee Mile

I think of the Indy Racing League season as being a thing in three parts. The first few races are sort of a pre-season with everyone getting themselves and their cars figured out. I say "sort of" because all the races count. The next part is Indy itself. The rest of the season is the race for the championship. That started today with the A.J. Foyt 225 at the unforgiving Milwaukee Mile. Here are some random thoughts about the first race of the summer season.

Way To Go TK!
It was a good race indeed for Tony and for the AGR team. Speaking of which . . .

AGR is Back!
This was the second straight win for AGR, the third of six this season. This is shaping up to be a great year, with one exception.

Sophomore Slump?
What's up with Marco Andretti this year? Last year's rookie of the year has finished only one race this season. He had a spectacular crash at Indy and put it into the wall today. Is it bad luck? Does he have a case of the yips? Who knows? My prediction -- look for Marco to get this thing figured out before the end of the season.

Danica Drives
After her team goofed and didn't get her car ready to qualify well, Danica started the race in 17th and worked her way up to contention pretty quickly. Then Dan Weldon drove into her right front tire, throwing her into a spin and messing up her steering. How she managed to avoid a crash I don't know. She's one heck of a driver. And that reminds me . . .

Weldon
I don't usually like to get personal about this, but I have to admit, I don't really like Dan Weldon. All that blather earlier this year about wanting to "dominate" the IRL struck me as childish, and today his driving was, at best, sloppy. At worst it was aggressive to the point of dangerousness.

Penske Perfect?
Speaking of dangerous, what the heck happened to Team Penske? As mechanical failures go suddenly having your rear wing snap is pretty spectacular. Having both cars have the same failure is amazing. For it to happen to Penske is positively stunning.

That's it. I'm all out of thoughts, random or otherwise.

UPDATE 6/4/07: Check out these clips from the race.