30 year old race car driver Paul Dana was killed today. I don't follow racing like I used to. I was a fan of Formula racing until 1994 when Aryton Senna, my favourite driver died in a race on May 1st. A few weeks before on April 8 Kurt Cobain was found dead in his house in Seattle. Senna was 34 and Cobain was 27. Both of them were at the very pinnacle of their chosen arts and both of them seemed capable of more great things.
I was teaching an introductory Philosophy class that spring at the suburban campus of the University and I recall the typical brutally cold Great Lakes winter. The term was just about done. It was perhaps the first really bright warm day of the year which made even more cruel the news to come. I was driving to get some lunch when I heard of Cobain's death on the car radio. The first thing that came out of my mouth were the words "you fucking idiot!"... said not with malice but with the realization of the great waste of a life. I am of the opinion that anyone in a suicidal tailspin with some perspective would realize that it is not really as bad as it might seem.
A few years before these deaths I was in such a state when it seemed futile and painful to carry on. The curious thing is that I decided then that instead of ever contemplating taking my own life I would instead feel free and unafraid to pursue such dangerous activities as mountain-climbing and race-car driving. I wonder if the Aryton Sennas of the world have made a similar pact with their inhibitions. I wonder if the Kurt Cobains of the world are perhaps in a similar nihilistic death spiral facilitated by their high risk lifestyles.
If you look at the results listing of a car race you will note that after the numeric ordering of the leaders there are a number of entries at the bottom of the list with the leters "DNF" beside their names for "Did Not Finish". Paul Dana, Aryton Senna as well as Kurt Cobain and any other young person who takes their own life are all DNF in more ways than one.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Chasing Amy's Blog
Jake to Universe
My friend read one of my recent blog entries. Over dinner he commented that he had never come across the word "limning" before seeing it in the title of my entry. Duh. Where ya been? It was the word of the day on dictionary.com on February 2, 2001.
I did a search for other blogs that used the word "limn". I came across several but I started reading one written by a charming girl from California. It's almost heartbreaking to come across people like her. Where were girls like her when I was a younger man?
They were probably sitting next to me in French class but there would have been no way for me to know. Maybe that girl in my French class maintained a diary, scribbled her poems within it... made observations, confessions and declarations that I would have found charming and fascinating. But unless I happened to find that well-worn and colourful testament to her love for words I would probably never know about that side of her.
I know that blogs aren't necessarily diaries but through them we are given access to the personal world of friends and strangers to an extent that we could never have dreamed possible only a decade ago. So I found myself checking each day to see whether Amy had updated her blog. I was curious how she was doing in Ithaca and whether she would decide to choose Cornell over Berkeley. To my disappointment she didn't submit an entry for over a week.
Isn't it odd that you can follow the life of another person without their knowing? Maybe I should send her this link. That would mean that I'm not technically being a stalker right?
My friend read one of my recent blog entries. Over dinner he commented that he had never come across the word "limning" before seeing it in the title of my entry. Duh. Where ya been? It was the word of the day on dictionary.com on February 2, 2001.
I did a search for other blogs that used the word "limn". I came across several but I started reading one written by a charming girl from California. It's almost heartbreaking to come across people like her. Where were girls like her when I was a younger man?
They were probably sitting next to me in French class but there would have been no way for me to know. Maybe that girl in my French class maintained a diary, scribbled her poems within it... made observations, confessions and declarations that I would have found charming and fascinating. But unless I happened to find that well-worn and colourful testament to her love for words I would probably never know about that side of her.
I know that blogs aren't necessarily diaries but through them we are given access to the personal world of friends and strangers to an extent that we could never have dreamed possible only a decade ago. So I found myself checking each day to see whether Amy had updated her blog. I was curious how she was doing in Ithaca and whether she would decide to choose Cornell over Berkeley. To my disappointment she didn't submit an entry for over a week.
Isn't it odd that you can follow the life of another person without their knowing? Maybe I should send her this link. That would mean that I'm not technically being a stalker right?
Friday, March 17, 2006
Mathematicians, Philosophers, Filmmakers
Jake to Universe
It's journalistically irresponsible for me to comment on a story I only skimmed over this morning... but I'm not a journalist.
A Mathematician recently won a science prize that is slightly more monied than the Nobel. It is given out by a mutual fund company owner. The winner expounds what appears basically to be the original intelligent design theories as set out by some mediaeval and renaissance philosophers. What's somewhat risive is that these theories are celebrated as being brilliant and original when they are really Philosophy 101 material that freshman get to ponder anew each September.
The gist of the stance can be spelled out in the following three points:
1. The Universe is so impressively complex that it must have been designed.
2. Since the Universe had a beginning and could not create itself, it must have had an outside cause.
3. The Universe is perfectly suited to spring forth Human life so it must have been designed to generate Human life.
The last point is the Goldilocks approach - Not too hot, not too cold, but just right. It considers that if the galactic or planetary or environmental situations had been even modestly different than they had been in the past then Human life would not have been possible. Therefore the conclusion is drawn that there is some inherent intentional design.
There are many many ways to poke holes in these arguments but that is not my intent here. I'm not sure what my intent is here except to bitch about Mathematicians who engage in amateur Philosophy and are rewarded for their unoriginal efforts. I don't recall a Philosopher lately receiving a prize for his ideas about how the the length of the radius of a circle is related to its circumference. These ideas are of course known to freshman Mathematicians to be fascinating but hardly groundbreaking.
I'm reminded of a conversation I overheard on a train from Montreal to Toronto many years ago. An unlikely couple of people seemed to hit it off in the seats across the aisle. A stylish and beautiful young woman in her late twenties was being enthusiastically engaged by a chubby geeky teenaged boy. He looked like he clearly needed to spend less time in front of the Playstation and more time grooming. The first Matrix movie had been released that year to great success. The young man began to discuss this movie at length, whether she wanted to hear about it or not. It was hard to tell if she was just being polite or was genuinely as fascinated as she claimed to be by the conversation.
He began to "blow her mind" by the notions presented in the film. That you might actually be living in a virtual world would be near impossible to determine if you had been trapped there from birth. Your entire body or perhaps just your brain might actually be stored in some vat and you might be fed the contents of your experiences without your knowledge. They both marveled at how brilliant the entire notion was and how brilliant the Wachowski brothers were for coming up with such a mind blower.
Those notions are of course brilliant and mind blowing but sadly they are not the product of these talented filmmakers. Descartes five hundred years ago and Plato two thousand years before him wrote of such things. It's sad how little recognition these philosophers receive and how limited a historical sense we seem to have outside of our specialties.
I wish that Mathematicians, Philosophers and Filmmakers knew more about the respective histories and developments of each other's fields of knowledge. Of course, this has probably become by now, just another lament about the lack of exposure to a quality liberal education in our North American culture.
It's journalistically irresponsible for me to comment on a story I only skimmed over this morning... but I'm not a journalist.
A Mathematician recently won a science prize that is slightly more monied than the Nobel. It is given out by a mutual fund company owner. The winner expounds what appears basically to be the original intelligent design theories as set out by some mediaeval and renaissance philosophers. What's somewhat risive is that these theories are celebrated as being brilliant and original when they are really Philosophy 101 material that freshman get to ponder anew each September.
The gist of the stance can be spelled out in the following three points:
1. The Universe is so impressively complex that it must have been designed.
2. Since the Universe had a beginning and could not create itself, it must have had an outside cause.
3. The Universe is perfectly suited to spring forth Human life so it must have been designed to generate Human life.
The last point is the Goldilocks approach - Not too hot, not too cold, but just right. It considers that if the galactic or planetary or environmental situations had been even modestly different than they had been in the past then Human life would not have been possible. Therefore the conclusion is drawn that there is some inherent intentional design.
There are many many ways to poke holes in these arguments but that is not my intent here. I'm not sure what my intent is here except to bitch about Mathematicians who engage in amateur Philosophy and are rewarded for their unoriginal efforts. I don't recall a Philosopher lately receiving a prize for his ideas about how the the length of the radius of a circle is related to its circumference. These ideas are of course known to freshman Mathematicians to be fascinating but hardly groundbreaking.
I'm reminded of a conversation I overheard on a train from Montreal to Toronto many years ago. An unlikely couple of people seemed to hit it off in the seats across the aisle. A stylish and beautiful young woman in her late twenties was being enthusiastically engaged by a chubby geeky teenaged boy. He looked like he clearly needed to spend less time in front of the Playstation and more time grooming. The first Matrix movie had been released that year to great success. The young man began to discuss this movie at length, whether she wanted to hear about it or not. It was hard to tell if she was just being polite or was genuinely as fascinated as she claimed to be by the conversation.
He began to "blow her mind" by the notions presented in the film. That you might actually be living in a virtual world would be near impossible to determine if you had been trapped there from birth. Your entire body or perhaps just your brain might actually be stored in some vat and you might be fed the contents of your experiences without your knowledge. They both marveled at how brilliant the entire notion was and how brilliant the Wachowski brothers were for coming up with such a mind blower.
Those notions are of course brilliant and mind blowing but sadly they are not the product of these talented filmmakers. Descartes five hundred years ago and Plato two thousand years before him wrote of such things. It's sad how little recognition these philosophers receive and how limited a historical sense we seem to have outside of our specialties.
I wish that Mathematicians, Philosophers and Filmmakers knew more about the respective histories and developments of each other's fields of knowledge. Of course, this has probably become by now, just another lament about the lack of exposure to a quality liberal education in our North American culture.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Limning a House
My architect friend Paul opened an exhibition this evening. Two artists from Berlin were invited to join Paul and his friend David to present and discuss their respective partnered works. Paul and David had created a multi-media project 10 years ago by slowly deconstructing a dilapidated and condemned house. They filmed and photographed the project as they cut out pieces of the walls and floors eventually causing one half of the house to fall into the other. The two Berlin artists were sent photos of a local Toronto office building and they used these to create a virtual exploding, fragmenting or splintering of the building running in an animated loop.
The two projects ostensibly meet at the nexus of the concept of deconstruction. Derrida was of course mentioned and discussed by the panel and audience. Deconstruction is a parasitic act in that it requires something constructed upon which one can perform the act. Most art is of course considered to be of a creative and constructive nature, requiring no such beginning point. In this sense it seems that only the Canadian project was a deconstruction since the virtual rendering was not an unraveling of anything at all but a creation from start to finish.
Can the physical unbuilding of a house be considered an act of deconstruction in the Derridean sense? Only metaphorically it seems and only as a way of limning the way in which something can be laid bare and brought closer to its so-called essense by peeling away its surface layers and breaking it into pieces. The whole is often said to be greater than its constituent parts but these projects highlight the possibility that something can be invested with even more value in the process of its unravelling. The surprising perspectives afforded by each cut of a wall or ceiling help to bring forth or un-cover the being of the house. These hidden aspects are revealed and released from the constancy of the seemingly soldified being of the house.
Through this process of unbuilding we can catch glimpses of what it is essentially to be a house. By removing a piece of the roof we are brought face to face with one of the essences of a house: that of shelter. Partially collapsing a room results in one wall remaining 8 feet high while the oppsosite wall shrinks and disappears. What does this inform us about the intended functionality or purposes of spaces?
This unbuilding house works as a form of performance art for those who happen upon the project during its progress. The person who randomly happens upon the house in one of its progressively slanting states is treated to a delightfully disorienting image. The neighbours have a different experience. They can follow the process over a more protracted timeframe. As the house is slowly moved closer to oblivion the passerby acknowledges more fully the existence of the house. Ironically they come to acknowledge its existence as it is moving through the process of ceasing to exist. What may have been mostly unnoticed by the neighbours over the years comes startlingly to the forefront as they pass by each day to note a new development in it's demise.
The two projects ostensibly meet at the nexus of the concept of deconstruction. Derrida was of course mentioned and discussed by the panel and audience. Deconstruction is a parasitic act in that it requires something constructed upon which one can perform the act. Most art is of course considered to be of a creative and constructive nature, requiring no such beginning point. In this sense it seems that only the Canadian project was a deconstruction since the virtual rendering was not an unraveling of anything at all but a creation from start to finish.
Can the physical unbuilding of a house be considered an act of deconstruction in the Derridean sense? Only metaphorically it seems and only as a way of limning the way in which something can be laid bare and brought closer to its so-called essense by peeling away its surface layers and breaking it into pieces. The whole is often said to be greater than its constituent parts but these projects highlight the possibility that something can be invested with even more value in the process of its unravelling. The surprising perspectives afforded by each cut of a wall or ceiling help to bring forth or un-cover the being of the house. These hidden aspects are revealed and released from the constancy of the seemingly soldified being of the house.
Through this process of unbuilding we can catch glimpses of what it is essentially to be a house. By removing a piece of the roof we are brought face to face with one of the essences of a house: that of shelter. Partially collapsing a room results in one wall remaining 8 feet high while the oppsosite wall shrinks and disappears. What does this inform us about the intended functionality or purposes of spaces?
This unbuilding house works as a form of performance art for those who happen upon the project during its progress. The person who randomly happens upon the house in one of its progressively slanting states is treated to a delightfully disorienting image. The neighbours have a different experience. They can follow the process over a more protracted timeframe. As the house is slowly moved closer to oblivion the passerby acknowledges more fully the existence of the house. Ironically they come to acknowledge its existence as it is moving through the process of ceasing to exist. What may have been mostly unnoticed by the neighbours over the years comes startlingly to the forefront as they pass by each day to note a new development in it's demise.
Monday, March 06, 2006
Blood, Fire, Water
Jake to Universe
Blood, fire, water. You have 15 minutes. Begin.
Steve skillfully slides the contents of the frying pan to one end and tosses it into the air. The diced onions and zucchini slide with ease as a single wave and rise up to a crest as they flow out of the pan and into the air. The wave curves back onto itself and crashes back into the pan where it is brought to meet the airborne flow. The onions are starting to caramelize nicely. Sizzling, some of them are richly brown or burnt. The zucchini was just added, releasing their invested moisture into the mix and making the sea harder to launch into the air. Then small plum tomatoes - blood red, short cylinders - not possessing much flesh. The larger tomatoes are meatier. They are added to the mix to give the sauce more substance while the smaller tomatoes are there for colour and taste.
He begins the motion that gives birth to another tsunami. This time red, brown and green, like a fresh grave which has been churned by torrents and hurricane winds. Briefly thrown up high then crashing down again. From this jumble the parts are now reformed where they began their journey. Flesh and grass uprooted, it's too heavy and comes crashing unto itself with additional force.
A splinter splash from this wave lands on the web of skin between Steve's thumb and forefinger and he jerks his hand back before even feeling the stinging of his skin. He had been admiring his skills to this point but now finds himself cursing his bravado. The kitchen is where he can relax and reflect but this is proving to be a most unrelaxing evening. The afflicted skin is firey red as blood rushes to heal the scorched thin membrane. The faucet nearby is turned on and he puts his hand underneath to ease the pain. He stares ahead and thinks of Susan.
It would take a thousand Niagaras to wash away the pain.
Blood, fire, water. You have 15 minutes. Begin.
Steve skillfully slides the contents of the frying pan to one end and tosses it into the air. The diced onions and zucchini slide with ease as a single wave and rise up to a crest as they flow out of the pan and into the air. The wave curves back onto itself and crashes back into the pan where it is brought to meet the airborne flow. The onions are starting to caramelize nicely. Sizzling, some of them are richly brown or burnt. The zucchini was just added, releasing their invested moisture into the mix and making the sea harder to launch into the air. Then small plum tomatoes - blood red, short cylinders - not possessing much flesh. The larger tomatoes are meatier. They are added to the mix to give the sauce more substance while the smaller tomatoes are there for colour and taste.
He begins the motion that gives birth to another tsunami. This time red, brown and green, like a fresh grave which has been churned by torrents and hurricane winds. Briefly thrown up high then crashing down again. From this jumble the parts are now reformed where they began their journey. Flesh and grass uprooted, it's too heavy and comes crashing unto itself with additional force.
A splinter splash from this wave lands on the web of skin between Steve's thumb and forefinger and he jerks his hand back before even feeling the stinging of his skin. He had been admiring his skills to this point but now finds himself cursing his bravado. The kitchen is where he can relax and reflect but this is proving to be a most unrelaxing evening. The afflicted skin is firey red as blood rushes to heal the scorched thin membrane. The faucet nearby is turned on and he puts his hand underneath to ease the pain. He stares ahead and thinks of Susan.
It would take a thousand Niagaras to wash away the pain.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
The Human Virus
Jake to Universe
Helen's comments on the Exophilosophy posting started me thinking.
There is an old tradition of considering the Earth to be a living entity in its own right (Mother Nature, Gaia etc.) This seems perfectly reasonable to me. Within this perspective it is true that Humans would seem to be a type of virus or perhaps parasite. It is a micro-organism within a larger system that feeds off of that host. This is not a very flattering portrayal of humanity but it may not be as bad as it seems.
It is true that such microrganisms may in fact feed off of the host to such an extent that it may end up killing it. A virus that kills will not be as successful as one that doesn't kill since the less lethal one will have a greater chance of passing on its DNA and sending forth its progeny to other hosts if it can hang around long enough.
So we the Human Virus need to realize that we cannot hope to continue to procreate successfully if we kill our host. I believe that our selfish genes will eventually bring us to realize this on a larger scale. So perhaps we may survive long enough to one day infect another host (settle on another planet) and also not kill that one.
We have perhaps been too harsh on the Viral form of life. They have the same bad rep as the so-called weed. Why would one prefer the green grass to the yellow dandelion? The dandelion is just trying to be fruitful and multiply... just like the green grass, also like the virus and parasite and very much like humans.
Helen's comments on the Exophilosophy posting started me thinking.
There is an old tradition of considering the Earth to be a living entity in its own right (Mother Nature, Gaia etc.) This seems perfectly reasonable to me. Within this perspective it is true that Humans would seem to be a type of virus or perhaps parasite. It is a micro-organism within a larger system that feeds off of that host. This is not a very flattering portrayal of humanity but it may not be as bad as it seems.
It is true that such microrganisms may in fact feed off of the host to such an extent that it may end up killing it. A virus that kills will not be as successful as one that doesn't kill since the less lethal one will have a greater chance of passing on its DNA and sending forth its progeny to other hosts if it can hang around long enough.
So we the Human Virus need to realize that we cannot hope to continue to procreate successfully if we kill our host. I believe that our selfish genes will eventually bring us to realize this on a larger scale. So perhaps we may survive long enough to one day infect another host (settle on another planet) and also not kill that one.
We have perhaps been too harsh on the Viral form of life. They have the same bad rep as the so-called weed. Why would one prefer the green grass to the yellow dandelion? The dandelion is just trying to be fruitful and multiply... just like the green grass, also like the virus and parasite and very much like humans.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Kotter Matrix
I just saw an episode of Welcome Back Kotter. I remember enjoying that show as a child but I was surprised by how cheesy and unfunny it actually was. I don't recall the production values being so low. It looked like a weekend project conceived and shot by your high school's AV club in the school gymnasium. As a child I thought Barbarino was pretty cool and I liked to think that I most resembled him owing to our shared possession of charm with the ladies. The years have given me fresh perspective so I now realize that I was probably 40% Barbarino, 30% Epstein, 18 percent Washington and about 12% Horschak.
Applied to Seinfeld I would be about 40% Jerry, 30% George, 18% Elaine and about 12% Kramer.
On the Sex and the City Matrix I'm not sure if I would qualify but I'd have to say that I was about 40% Carrie, 30% the Brunette, 18% the Redhead and about 12% the Slut.
But I have asked women which character they most resembled and all of them said they most resembled Carrie as played by Sarah Jessica Parker. Given the benefit of perspective I believe these women will one day be watching a rerun 20 years from now and realize that they weren't really 100% Carrie but some alchemical mixture of all 4 of the main characters in varying percentages.
Applied to Seinfeld I would be about 40% Jerry, 30% George, 18% Elaine and about 12% Kramer.
On the Sex and the City Matrix I'm not sure if I would qualify but I'd have to say that I was about 40% Carrie, 30% the Brunette, 18% the Redhead and about 12% the Slut.
But I have asked women which character they most resembled and all of them said they most resembled Carrie as played by Sarah Jessica Parker. Given the benefit of perspective I believe these women will one day be watching a rerun 20 years from now and realize that they weren't really 100% Carrie but some alchemical mixture of all 4 of the main characters in varying percentages.
Fellini on Ice
My mother was visiting the other day so I ended up watching some of the closing ceremonies for the Winter Olympics from Torino. What were they thinking? Answer: Fellini meets Cirque the Soleil and they decide to go skating.
Perhaps such spectacles are meant to be viewed from a good stadium-sized distance because it looked positiviely silly up close on the TV screen as countless pseudo Florentine/Swiss guards skated about in seemingly random and puzzling movements. This was followed by some bombshell Italian actress who engaged in her own non-sequitor gesticulations. All the while some other beautiful people seemed to be flailing while hanging from rings or ropes high above the stage. Surely Italian culture has more to offer than this. But then again, have you seen some of their variety shows?
Perhaps such spectacles are meant to be viewed from a good stadium-sized distance because it looked positiviely silly up close on the TV screen as countless pseudo Florentine/Swiss guards skated about in seemingly random and puzzling movements. This was followed by some bombshell Italian actress who engaged in her own non-sequitor gesticulations. All the while some other beautiful people seemed to be flailing while hanging from rings or ropes high above the stage. Surely Italian culture has more to offer than this. But then again, have you seen some of their variety shows?
Friday, February 24, 2006
Exophilosophy
I have thought long and hard about what it would be like to be an alien. I am of the opinion that they would be so entirely unlike us that this thought experiment is much less effective than you might guess. We have access to the world through our senses and much of it is arbitrarily so. We see a certain range of the light spectrum, we hear a certain range of audio frequency, we touch, taste and smell according to reactions to our environment and our survival tendencies over many millenia.
An entity on another planet whom we might consider to be living would have to exist in harmony with an entirely different environment such that they might be as physically different from us as fungus is from a cocker spaniel.
It is not really that uniquely interesting to consider all of the different life-forms there might be on other planets. The diversity on Earth is astonishing enough. What is interesting is to consider how a so-called intelligent life form might look and move and act. Could we assign the act of thinking to any intelligent being? What essentially do we know about thinking so that we can definitely say that another life form thinks? How do these beings interact with each other? What of socialization? Individual identity? Is individuality something unique to our particular condition in our particular environment? Would these creatures be a collection of individual creatures or one single creature? Must intelligent beings be evolved to a state that possesses a sense of self?
Ask yourself what it is about being human that has brought us to where we are and how we are. You are left with certain aspects that we would call particularly human. These traits and tendencies are alien even to other life forms here on earth. Think of how much we would need to have in common with a being in order to communicate with it. Over 20 years ago we sent out an intergalactic message in a bottle on the spacecraft Voyager. How similar would we need to be with the recipients in order for them even to consider our message to be something of importance worth investigating? Could there exist an highly advanced being that never looks out above the surface of it's planet? Could they even see? If they could detect the existence of Voyager would they even care? What is it to care? Must an intelligent being necessarily be curious?
An entity on another planet whom we might consider to be living would have to exist in harmony with an entirely different environment such that they might be as physically different from us as fungus is from a cocker spaniel.
It is not really that uniquely interesting to consider all of the different life-forms there might be on other planets. The diversity on Earth is astonishing enough. What is interesting is to consider how a so-called intelligent life form might look and move and act. Could we assign the act of thinking to any intelligent being? What essentially do we know about thinking so that we can definitely say that another life form thinks? How do these beings interact with each other? What of socialization? Individual identity? Is individuality something unique to our particular condition in our particular environment? Would these creatures be a collection of individual creatures or one single creature? Must intelligent beings be evolved to a state that possesses a sense of self?
Ask yourself what it is about being human that has brought us to where we are and how we are. You are left with certain aspects that we would call particularly human. These traits and tendencies are alien even to other life forms here on earth. Think of how much we would need to have in common with a being in order to communicate with it. Over 20 years ago we sent out an intergalactic message in a bottle on the spacecraft Voyager. How similar would we need to be with the recipients in order for them even to consider our message to be something of importance worth investigating? Could there exist an highly advanced being that never looks out above the surface of it's planet? Could they even see? If they could detect the existence of Voyager would they even care? What is it to care? Must an intelligent being necessarily be curious?
Ping
Ping set out from his submarine home one day for a swim. He bumped into a boat and was forever changed. When he returned, he was hardly recognizable. He had become a Pong.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Punch Drunk Love
I rememeber that as a child the process for deciding which cereal to buy involved a complex formula that tried to balance the relative value of the cereal with the value of the free gift inside. "I prefer Shreddies but that free hockey card inside the Frosted Flakes makes me wonder".
Last week while shopping for groceries I noticed that a brand of cereal was on special for $3.99. I don't much eat cereal any more expect for this kind which is of a particularly adult variety. So I put one in my cart. There was a splash on the front of the box that indicated there was a bonus to be found inside. Each package contained a free movie pass. I go to the movies all the time so I know that a movie ticket costs about $10. Two more boxes went into my cart.
The next day as I passed the store I rationalized that I forgot to buy some water the previous night. But really I was curious to see if there were any more of those special boxes. There were, and eight more boxes went into my cart. I've been there two more times and I'll be going to the movies for free until July.
So I went to see Capote the other night. Philip Seymour Hoffman was quite good in his role as a reserved yet flamboyant and seemingly always somewhat drunk effete Truman Capote. I first noticed him in P.T. Anderson's Boogie Nights as the pathetic effete schlub who has a puppy dog crush on Dirk Diggler. He also played opposite Bobby Deniro as an effete crossdressing singer in a not-so-good movie. I wonder if he's gay because he's in danger of being typecast as such.
He seems best directed by Anderson as he was in Magnolia playing the palliative care nurse and as the slimebag 1-976 pimp in Punch Drunk Love. In that movie Adam Sandler's character discovers a pudding cup bonus promotion that he can use for free air travel. He then spends a significant portion of the movie shovelling pudding cups into his shopping cart. I now feel a special kinship with that character.
Last week while shopping for groceries I noticed that a brand of cereal was on special for $3.99. I don't much eat cereal any more expect for this kind which is of a particularly adult variety. So I put one in my cart. There was a splash on the front of the box that indicated there was a bonus to be found inside. Each package contained a free movie pass. I go to the movies all the time so I know that a movie ticket costs about $10. Two more boxes went into my cart.
The next day as I passed the store I rationalized that I forgot to buy some water the previous night. But really I was curious to see if there were any more of those special boxes. There were, and eight more boxes went into my cart. I've been there two more times and I'll be going to the movies for free until July.
So I went to see Capote the other night. Philip Seymour Hoffman was quite good in his role as a reserved yet flamboyant and seemingly always somewhat drunk effete Truman Capote. I first noticed him in P.T. Anderson's Boogie Nights as the pathetic effete schlub who has a puppy dog crush on Dirk Diggler. He also played opposite Bobby Deniro as an effete crossdressing singer in a not-so-good movie. I wonder if he's gay because he's in danger of being typecast as such.
He seems best directed by Anderson as he was in Magnolia playing the palliative care nurse and as the slimebag 1-976 pimp in Punch Drunk Love. In that movie Adam Sandler's character discovers a pudding cup bonus promotion that he can use for free air travel. He then spends a significant portion of the movie shovelling pudding cups into his shopping cart. I now feel a special kinship with that character.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Fishbike
It was well past midnight when I heard someone say "I need that like a fish needs a bike" and I immediately thought that "Fishbike" would be a good name for a band. I emailed Bob with the subject heading "Band Name" and simply wrote "Fishbike" in the body of the message.
The next day I received a reply with various references to "Fishbike" that he had found on the net. We have arrived at a stage in language and communication in which it has become increasingly difficult to coin new and original words.
Many many years ago I went on a cross-country road trip with Bob. While travelling somewhere along the flat Plains, in a near-catatonic state I began blurting out seemingly random words or phrases that Bob copied into his notebook. We called this a list of band names. I remember laughing hysterically years later when we read them over a coffee. I remember one of those band names "Phasers on Marmalade". I'm pretty sure I coined that one. I just googled it in another window and there were no matches. There are however 833 pages on which the word "phaser" appears along with the word "marmalade".
After the success of "The Police", "The Clash" and "The Knack" people soon ran out of single concept names and bands were forced to come up with more clever multi-concept names like "Dalek I Love You", "Porno for Pyros" and "Dayglow Abortions".
Two other creations that came in quick succession in my stream-of-conciousness band naming that day were "Jesus Fonzarelli" and "Elvis Hitler". Two quick Google searches reveal that there are actually bands that are so named.
The next day I received a reply with various references to "Fishbike" that he had found on the net. We have arrived at a stage in language and communication in which it has become increasingly difficult to coin new and original words.
Many many years ago I went on a cross-country road trip with Bob. While travelling somewhere along the flat Plains, in a near-catatonic state I began blurting out seemingly random words or phrases that Bob copied into his notebook. We called this a list of band names. I remember laughing hysterically years later when we read them over a coffee. I remember one of those band names "Phasers on Marmalade". I'm pretty sure I coined that one. I just googled it in another window and there were no matches. There are however 833 pages on which the word "phaser" appears along with the word "marmalade".
After the success of "The Police", "The Clash" and "The Knack" people soon ran out of single concept names and bands were forced to come up with more clever multi-concept names like "Dalek I Love You", "Porno for Pyros" and "Dayglow Abortions".
Two other creations that came in quick succession in my stream-of-conciousness band naming that day were "Jesus Fonzarelli" and "Elvis Hitler". Two quick Google searches reveal that there are actually bands that are so named.
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