Red Right Blog |
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Rants, Rates, Slags, Slates. Manic-depressive posts from Red Wright-Hand. Because there are thousands of worthless blogs out there and who am I not to add to their number?
Total US troop deaths in Iraq to date (09/01/07) since 03/20/03: 3739
From 05/02/03 through 06/28/04: 718 Myeloma (etc.) Blogs
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Arts & Letters Daily
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Friday, December 17, 2004
WHERE AM I GOING, WHERE HAVE I BEEN? Basically, who cares? I realize my rate of postings here leaves a little to be desired (*cough*), but, well, all the bookish gossip I might link to is already handled in splendid fashion by such stalwarts as Moorish Girl, Moby Lives, and Maud Newtown, so, please, click on their links (see left menu) any time you please. I mean, I really don't have much to offer myself in that regard, other than to tell you that this year I finally managed to get to three of this decade-so-far's Highly Touted Debut Novels, and here's what I thought of them: White Teeth: Tremendous fun! Fizzing with energy! The limp ending scarcely tainted my enjoyment! Everything is Illuminated: What rubbish! Has any young author's ambitions ever been so poorly served by his actual writing ability?! Since when does strained dialect "humor" constitute cultural commentary?! And has the author ever been laid (ridiculous cosmic-comedy sex scenes suggest not)?! The Lovely Bones: Printed Prozac! Fuzzy bromides! One-heaven-fits-all pseudo-spiritual insights! Narrative breaks down into utter boredom before the 100-page mark! Inexcusable Hollywood ending (literally: she stole it from Ghost)! Awkward osteo-imagery! All my illusions about Hitler...shattered. You just can't expect anyone to have an unblemished legacy any more. Still, it does set a helpful precedent for politicians campaigning on a platform of permanent tax cuts. Monday, December 06, 2004
The colossal oil spill on the Delaware River is now so bad that even the paper of record is paying attention (registration required). I got a look at it yesterday, about a mile or so upstream from the ruptured tanker, and the scenery was terrible: solid swathes of black sludge left on the riverbanks where the tide had receded, foul and thick. Just imagine a pot of tar upended on your lawn and you'll have an idea. And this was upriver from the spill...Meanwhile President Bush got on TV to say how terrible it all is...in a parallel universe, I mean. MENE, MENE, TEKEL, UPHARSIN: Create your own church sign. Word count is your only limitation. Like so.... Tuesday, November 30, 2004
HURRY WHILE IT'S STILL NOVEMBER: Obits and reminiscences abounding online for Mississippi writer Larry Brown, who died the day before Thanksgiving, age 53. I had really only read a couple of his stories in anthologies (before I consumed On Fire over the holiday weekend), but they made an impression, not least because they recalled so well the atmosphere of Lafayette County in northern Mississippi, an area I visited for the grand total of a single week in November 1992. The county seat of Oxford, where I stayed, remains celebrated as the long-time residence of a certain earlier American writer, but Brown, whose style is about as antithetical to Faulkner's as I can imagine, was largely concerned with the same things as Faulkner: the quiet struggles of poor deep-Southern folks, lives riven by violence and liquor and natural disasters. I believe it was not Faulkner himself (whom Brown openly admired) who influenced Brown as much as both men being influenced by the same land: the shrinking woods, the sunsets, the segregated towns, the deep dark nights. Here's a link to a page with an audio clip of Brown reading from his story "Old Frank and Jesus." Tuesday, November 16, 2004
U.S. CASUALTIES! COMING TO YOU NOW IN FIVE FIGURES! Aw-right! According to official Department of Defense figures (as tabulated by the Iraqi Coalition Casualty Report), total US casualties since the start of George and Donald's (and Condi's and Paul's...) Excellent Iraqi Adventure passed the 10,000 mark earlier this month. In fact, they number, at this time of writing, 10,156. That's a bunch, even if 4,052 of them (approx. 40%) are listed as "Wounded--RTD: Wounded in Action Return to Duty within 72 hours." More than 10,000 US soldiers killed or wounded since March 2003. And, of course, no light, no end, simply all tunnel. We return you now to your regularly scheduled programming. Sunday, November 14, 2004
SOME LONG-DELAYED CULTURAL NEWS: Among the Missing, a 2001 story collection by Dan Chaon, is as good as everyone says. It's remarkable how much emotion and tension Chaon creates out of a disarmingly simple prose style. (Raymond Carver, who provides the book's epigraph, appears to be the model here, but Chaon's work struck me as far more subtle and rich.) These are tales of deep feeling, exploring loss and fear and personal collapse without ever succumbing to morbidity or anger. Quite an accomplishment, and an interesting contrast to You Are Not a Stranger Here, another highly regarded fiction collection that appeared a year after Chaon's, which often sinks, so it seemed to me, under the weight of its author's (no doubt genuine) sadness. Saw the Ramones documentary a couple weeks ago, and was suitably impressed. It's not a great example of filmmaking per se, but a comprehensive assemblage of interviews and archive footage...some of which is astounding: the band being mobbed Hard-Day's-Night-style in Rio de Janeiro (where they had major fans in the impoverished youth), and bickering live on-stage about what song to play next (something they managed to get out of their systems early, as anyone who ever witnessed their supersonic concerts will attest.) The doc really captures the feel of the band and the era they created. Then last night saw Sideways, and was impressed by Alexander Payne's work all over again: he really is one of the best current American filmmakers, and so much better at dramatizing the sexual messiness of life than such self-righteous pricks as Neil LaBute and Todd Solondz. The less you know going into this one, the better, I think, so just go...among other things, you'll get a painfully comic reference to Alain Robbe-Grillet. Watching this, you could almost believe the year is 1973. Movie-making has come to a pretty horrible state when the appearance of a solid character-study onscreen comes off as an almost radical event. MEMO TO CELESTIAL ADMINISTRATORS: You killed the wrong Old Dirty Bastard with heart problems this weekend. It was supposed to be the white guy, not the black guy. Meanwhile, at least one set of voters made the right decision this month. Sunday, November 07, 2004
AY, OH, WAY TO GO, OHIO, or THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU: I certainly don't have anything authoritative to add to the oceans of commentary spilled forth since the morning of November 3rd, other than my personal juicy fuck-you to everyone who voted to give George W. Bush a second term in the White House. From this moment forth, whenever I hear someone complain about the hemorrhagic costs of the Iraq war, the loss of jobs, or the next big terrorist attack on US soil, I will first ask them who they voted for in this election, and if I determine their vote was for Bush, I solemnly pledge to cram my boot way up their ass, be the ass female or male. Seriously, you have to go back to the O.J. Simpson acquittal to find a decision based on such a blatant disregard for evident facts. As has already been pointed out in a variety of forums, all the states directly hit by 9/11 (and the likeliest targets for any future such attacks) all voted for Kerry, while the far more sheltered "red states" went for Bush. Is there some mystery involved here? Of course not. It's simply that voters in those Northeastern states are less confused about the nature of their real enemies...and more mindful of who sat in the White House (or, more accurately, who zig-zagged nervously across the country aboard Air Force One) on Sept. 11, 2001. Why did working-class union-member voters in Philadelphia turn out in such numbers in an attempt to dump Bush? Because they're wised-up to the Administration's true plans for workers (like the new overtime rules passed earlier this year). Because they're too realistic to be swayed by appeals to absurdly minor issues like gay marriage. Because.... Aw, who am I kidding? The GOP strategists played this one like champs. Their grass-roots campaign trumped the Demo grass-roots campaign. The longwinded, anti-war professorial New Englander candidate with the FOREIGN-ACCENTED spouse didn't stand a chance against the folksy, repetitive churchy candidate with the worshipful small-town-librarian spouse (even if her driving record is a tad spotty). People vote with their big broad guts. People in the red states are cocooned and provincial. Americans with better-than-average educations and better-than-MOR tastes get the hell out of the red states (if they're from there originally) and move to the Coasts, while the rest stay put, experiencing global news from a vast remove, and making mammoth box-office hits out of barbarically reductive pseudo-religious movies. There are, broadly speaking, two Americas, and this Sunday morning I'm damn glad to live in the one that voted the way it did. The way I feel right now, the rest of you (if I may quote our illustrious and newly-re-elected Vice President) can go fuck yourselves. Thanks for everything. Monday, November 01, 2004
Well, this is it, less than 24 hours till the polls open...and my main reason for not posting so often here lately is the fact that I've been giving much of my spare time since September to preparing for this day. That, and the fact that I still have a poky dial-up connection at home. Depending on the outcome, I may be too depressed to post after Nov. 3rd at all, but...only positive thoughts allowed today. (Yeah, I'm taking a page from our commander-in-chief's book, har har). Anyway, thanks to any and all who still bother to check out this sporadic blog, and for god's sake, get to the polls tomorrow and vote. FORWARDED FROM MIKE WATT'S MESSAGE LIST: Subject: FW: RE: PERSONAL PLEA - POLITICAL > > From: "Elizabeth Hahn" > > Date: Sat, 30 Oct 2004 01:17:27 -0400 (EDT) > > > > my friends....and close to home. > > > > > > From: Diana McGowen > > Date: Sat, 30 Oct 2004 00:14:34 +0000 > > Subject: RE: PERSONAL PLEA - POLITICAL > > > > Donnie, > > > > Thank you for sending this out. With my husband in > > Iraq, I know first hand how Bush has not made us safer, > > in fact quite the opposite. It's unfortunate that he > > uses religious fear tactics to scare us into thinking > > he can make a difference. The only people he is > > interested in making a difference for are the Bush > > Family (and the Cheney's). None of his > > policies...environmental, economical, health, homeland > > security, etc.. NONE are in our best interest. Electing > > John Kerry may not bring my husband, or the rest of the > > troops home any earlier, but maybe it will prevent them > > from having to go back. These guys are worn out. They > > are both physically and mentally exhausted. Not only is > > that unfair, considering their wage, but it's dangerous. > > If anyone you know, ever wants to know exactly what it's > > REALLY like over there, I'd be happy to tell them in his > > words. Because it's NOT what Bush says it is!!! Thank > > you for trying and hopefully, one at a time, we can > > reach the undecided. Thank you and if anyone who > > believes in prayer can say a prayer for the troops and > > my husband it'd be much appreciated. > > > > Lots of love, > > Diana > > > > > > > > From: Don Stroud > > > Subject: PERSONAL PLEA - POLITICAL > > > Date: Fri, 29 Oct 2004 16:10:36 -0700 (PDT) > > > > > > Please Dear friends...vote for John Kerry. It's not > > > the answer to our problems, but it's a start at saving > > > ourselves from a future that quite frankly scares me > > > to death. If you want to vote with your heart and not > > > for "the only choice they gave us"...save it for a > > > better time. If Kerry loses this election, our chances > > > of ever changing things in this country will fall so > > > far behind us they will be a distant sentimental > > > memory. If you are receiving this message and you are > > > voting the other way, I truly believe you will look > > > back on this time in our lives and wish you had seen > > > the signs. The current administration has done nothing > > > to make us safer, happier or more free. Not one thing. > > > > > > Thank you, > > > Sorry I had to - > > > Donnie Stroud > > > Thursday, October 28, 2004
A lunar eclipse across North America, the Red Sox sweeping the Series...all we need now is a Kerry victory next Tuesday to round things out. Tuesday, October 26, 2004
UNKNOWN PLEASURES: RRB breaks radio silence to observe the passing of John Peel, officially the world's greatest-ever DJ. Friday, October 15, 2004
Sunday, October 03, 2004
ONE CAFFEINE-WITHDRAWAL HEADACHE LATER: Yeah, it's been a while. But MobyLives has been "on hiatus" since January yet still rates a mention in today's Times' rundown of lit-related websites (is that what I am?), so cut me some slack. One fellow who's been doing lots of updating lately is Mr. Ted Adams, whose new Heudnsk blog showcases his extraordinary series of urban photographs. Oh, and I got the skinny about Harvey Pekar's moribund blog last week, direct from the source. Seems Mr. Pekar was blogging only so long as New Line Cinema was compensating him for his contributions to the website (originally launched by the studio to promote the American Splendor movie); when the $$$ stopped, so did the updates. Meanwhile, Pekar himself will be appearing this Thursday at the Central Branch of the Free Library of Philadelphia, after a free screening of the movie. Maybe more later today. Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Russ Meyer is dead. My autographed "Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!" refrigerator magnet remains. I still have the feeling, 15 years after I began watching his films closely, that his remarkable skills as a filmmaker remain overshadowed by his subject matter. I'm serious: his budgets were often skimpier than his actresses' garments yet he worked visual miracles. Check out the opening scene of Mudhoney sometime. Brilliant! Monday, September 20, 2004
ON BEING HAPPILY HUMBLED: In case I haven't made my opinions clear in recent months, let me state my loathing for President Bush and his ranking Administration officials...with some loathing left over for the non-ranking officials as well. He represents the most unashamedly cynical aspects of American political life (namely that the general populace will agree with, or at least offer no resistance to, obvious lies if the lies are comforting enough, and presented in relation to some terrible threat), not to mention the most arrogant (namely the refusal to readjust policies when clearly necessary). It's not even so much that I disagree in principle with those policies of the hard-right elements now in control of the Republican Party, but that those policies, when implemented, do not work on their own terms. Of course I need point to nothing other than our miserably failed occupation of Iraq. Bush & Co. got to have their cooked-up war, and they fucked it up with their spectacular mis-estimations. If you're going to be a pre-emptive-war-declaring, Axis-of-Evil-toppling superpower, you should at least do it right, and if we were presently looking at a new Garden of Democratic Eden flowering between the banks of the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers, I would have to admit that Bush's plans might have been worth the human cost. But we are not looking at such a Garden, nor does it appear at all likely that we ever will. BUSH OUT NOW Anyway, it's all so disgusting to me that I got my sleepy ass in gear earlier this year and have been doing some volunteer work related to getting our 43rd President out of office: voter-registration drives, door-to-door polling, and so on. And I admit to being pretty proud of myself at first simply for hauling myself off the sofa on some weekends to do this, a few hours here and there on various Saturdays and Sundays in the Philadelphia area (considered crucial in the election, especially the suburbs). But here comes the humbling part: every time I participate in these activities, I meet people (many college-age, but not nearly all) who've traveled so far to volunteer in the SE Pennsylvania area, some from way out of state, youngsters temporarily putting aside education and job opportunities to give all their time to this effort, oldsters who are certainly entitled to spend a sunny weekend afternoon doing something else besides walking around the non-pedestrian-friendly suburbs to knock on doors and ask questions of strangers. Just yesterday, I did some polling with a fellow (mid-20s) wearing a "Republicans for Kerry" t-shirt (which message he assured me described himself with 100% accuracy), who, when we were done for the afternoon and had returned to central Philadelphia, got in his car for the two-hour drive back to Maryland, where he lives with his new wife, and told me "See you again next weekend." I repeat: Yesterday I met a young, recently married registered-Republican man who's spending his Indian-summer Sundays driving two hours each way between Maryland and Pennsylvania in order to spend more hours canvassing voters in the Philadelphia suburbs in the hope of getting Sen. John Kerry elected President. Meanwhile, after waving him goodbye, a 30-minute stroll and I'm home again on my sofa. This is when I'm proud to call myself a (properly humbled) American. Thursday, September 16, 2004
In other music news, the following is the complete setlist of last Friday evening's "Electrifying Conclusion" farewell tour Philadelphia appearance of Guided By Voices: Sad If I Lost It/Everyone Thinks I'm A Raincloud (When I'm Not Looking)/Fair Touching/Sleep Over Jack/Girls of Wild Strawberries/I Drove a Tank/I Am a Tree/Window of My World/My Impression Now/Gonna Never Have to Die/My Kind of Soldier/Red Men and Their Wives/Shocker in Gloomtown/Christian Animation Torch Carriers/Back to the Lake/The Closets of Henry/Tour Guide at the Winston Churchill Memorial/I'll Replace You With Machines/Navigating Flood Regions/Squirmish Frontal Room/Run Son Run/Sons of Apollo/Things I Will Keep/Tractor Rape Chain/Trap Soul Door/Drinkers Peace/Bull Spears/Watch Me Jumpstart/Mascara Snakes/Red Ink Superman/Asphyxiated Circle/Secret Star/It's Only Natural/Beg for a Wheelbarrow/Chief Barrel Belly/Game of Pricks/Harrison Adams/Motor Away/The Best of Jill Hives/Their Biggest Win/Cut-out Witch/Buzzards and Dreadful Crows/Murder Charge/ENCORE: Queen of Cans and Jars/Goldheart Mountaintop Queen Directory/Teenage FBI/Alone Stinking and Unafraid/Glad Girls/I Am a Scientist/Don't Stop Now/Echos Myron That was about three hours of music, folks, and I'm still a bit hungover. Courtesy of The Official Guided By Voices website. AND STILL KEITH RICHARDS LIVES: Was it Reagan's death that made Johnny Ramone feel he just couldn't go on anymore? Regardless of his political leanings, the man played guitar at some of the most transporting concerts I ever attended. Nice way to celebrate Rosh Hashana, you big goon. Wednesday, September 15, 2004
LIFE IN THE BUG CITY: A REPORT FROM OUR CORRESPONDENT IN POST-GOP-MANHATTAN...VERMIN-HATTAN, THAT IS: "Was hanging with a chick at this subterranean club, when all of a sudden she jumps up and starts flailing at the table. I see that there's about a 2" long roach right fucking front and center. Having to act quickly, I grabbed the drink doily, which, being rather thin, prompted me to flick at rather than smash the fella. So fine, he's flung off the table, but clearly, still among the living. The hostess (german accent!) is, to my taste, only mildly apologetic and even mentions something stupid like it's just a water bug (oh, like those are so much more charming than roaches). Whatever, free round of drinks. A little while later, the girl in the adjoining banquette screeches, "ROACH", and I see it's on the ledge about eye level with yours truly. This time, I reach for a nearby pile of napkins and grab about an inch thick's worth. I was tempted to really wallop him at this point, but sensibly, realized I didn't want a spurt of roach juice coming at me, so I sort of lightly slammed him. Well I guess he was only dazed, cause a second later he came crawling out from under the pile. But before I could get a second shot at him, Ilsa the She-Wolf is all over that muthafucka. End of story, for him that is. This time she had the good sense to offer comping the entire tab, which was then gleefully fleshed out with several rounds of shots. Life lessons learned? Nah. But a nice buzz courtesy of a nasty bug ain't such a bad deal." Wednesday, September 08, 2004
W., meet K: When the summer began, I did a little math and calculated that US military fatalities in Iraq would surpass 1,000 before the season's end. In an uncharacteristic display of tastefulness, I declined to post this prediction on the blog. What a wimp. No such lack of intestinal fortitude from our Vice President, who reminded us yesterday of what the November election is all about: VOTE REPUBLICAN OR DIE. And speaking of W., why is it that this video of the man, taken at a wedding reception on August 29, 1992, six years after he "quit drinking," (*cough*) has not been widely disseminated? (NOTE: QuickTime is required.) Make sure you watch to the very end when he empties his glass. Only in Amurrrka. Thanks to The Smoking Gun. Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Assorted American writers weigh in on the 2004 election. (Boy, it's amazing how much good stuff you can post when you steal from a prominent blog.) Sunday, September 05, 2004
On this calm holiday weekend in the Northeastern United States, I consider my accidental privileges and send best wishes for peace to all people suffering assorted horrors and pummellings in other parts of the world. That same issue of The New Yorker has a very good article on current political ads on television, and the history of same, which leads us to The Living Room Candidate, an extraordinary online archive of such ads from 1952 to the present. Hosted by the American Museum of the Moving Image. IT'S OH SO CLICHED: Alex Ross, music critic for The New Yorker, had this fresh comment to make about Bjork in his August 23 profile of the Icelandic singer and actress: "Bjork manages to sound as if she knows everything and nothing at once." Probably nasty of me to cherry-pick a single line like that out of what is not terrible coverage of Ms. Gudmundsdottir's career and brand-new album...except that on the same page comes this description of a Brazilian carnival float designed by Bjork's current beau, the great, great contemporary artist Matthew Barney: "Barney's float came into view, a huge, dark, fascinating thing." Okay, Ross is a music critic, not an art critic, but still. For the record, I kinda like Bjork myself. Her music sounds...like everything and nothing at once. Saturday, September 04, 2004
Oh, and congratulations to President Bush for achieving re-nomination before the GI death toll in Iraq hit four digits. Way to go, Commander-in-Chief! RED WRIGHT-HAND REVEALS RED RIGHT EYE: Here's a close-up look at the result of "mask squeeze," a minor affliction brought on by not properly equalizing the air pressure within my face mask while scuba diving last Sunday (likely where I picked up my cold, too). Pretty cool, eh? Never happened to me before in 10 years of diving, and it looks a lot worse than it really is, and it's already cleared up, but your sympathy and cash donations are greatly appreciated. If you want to see a really bad case of mask squeeze, look no further than this link. Warning: may result in wretching. I appear to've set a personal record for longest gap between blog postings: huzzah. Please blame it on the debilitations of a late-summer cold, and general anomic listlessness; I will if you will. Meanwhile, however difficult it may be to believe, it appears that California Governor and occasional actor Arnold Schwarzenegger may not have been strictly truthful in some of his remarks uttered earlier this week at the Republican National Convention. A tough revelation to swallow, but there it is. Thank god nobody else lied about anything. Thursday, August 26, 2004
The Don DeLillo Papers now reside with the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center at the University of Texas at Austin. Fans of the great man will drool over the online catalog. (Thanks to the estimable Don DeLillo's America for the news.) Wednesday, August 25, 2004
More BUllSHit # 7,832: Check out this sweet Letter to John Kerry from Veterans on the official Bush-Cheney '04 campaign site. Note the peculiar second sentence, with its implication that some veterans may not have "worn the uniform [sic]" and served the USA. Especially note the ambiguity of the last sentence: "We urge you to condemn the double standard that you and your campaign have But of course, the Swift Boat Veterans for Truth ads are not about Kerry's activities "on return from Vietnam" but rather attacks on his record of military service while serving in Vietnam. Or are we to read this as an affirmation of veterans' rights to express their feelings about Kerry upon their "return from Vietnam"? (A return that happened more than 30 years ago?) What do you expect from these characters: direct factual statements? A bloody shame. I flew British Airways in March to London and back and their service was impeccable; in fact, when a passenger suffered a mild heart attack on the flight to the UK, not long after take-off, the crew and attendants reacted with unforgettable aplomb (the plane was smoothly diverted to Newfoundland and the passenger treated onboard and allowed to disembark). Thursday, August 19, 2004
Nope, haven't read it yet. Given its brevity (and the lousy reviews), I figure I'll whiz through it for free some afternoon in a bookstore aisle. Comments, anyone? In line with my recent plug for Between Cracks, E.C. Adams' book of Philadelphia photographs (which you've all bought by now, right?), here's a link to Passing Through Philadelphia, a website put up by the City of Philadelphia Mural Arts Program. And please, no cracks, between or otherwise, about passing through Philadelphia being the best way to see it, because only I'm allowed to make those jokes. Sunday, August 15, 2004
Some good Sunday morning coverage of the present situation(s) in Iraq, from Scotsman.com (on the Shia uprisings in Najaf) and The Philadelphia Inquirer (on the Sunnis in Ramadi). Thursday, August 12, 2004
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Requiscat in primate. The Empire State Building, in a truly classy move, will dim its lights tonight in tribute, from 9:30 PM to 9:45 PM EST. Friday, August 06, 2004
WE HAVE MET THE ENEMY, ETC: Bafflingly, the White House website reprints the verbatim text of President Bush's spectacular statement yesterday ("Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we.") during the signing of the new Defense Appropriations Act. Somebody help me out here with understanding this. Is it because the statements were also videotaped (in footage also made available through the White House), and the administration doesn't want to be caught in an obvious cleansing of the record? The online transcript contains no erratum or addendum to what was publicly stated by the President. AND WEIRDEST OF ALL, in the videotape, Bush is clearly seen to be reading from printed notes, indicating that his comments were in his script, and not some off-the-cuff grammatical flub. Uhm...uh...excuse me while I check the terror alert level. Writer Gloria Emerson, whose 1970s journalistic dispatches from Vietnam for The New York Times remain powerful reading, died in New York City this week. Thursday, August 05, 2004
Bruce Springsteen, "a writer and performer" and, incidentally, a "well-to-do guitar player," op-eds remarkably in today's New York Times (free registration required) about the upcoming Vote for Change tour and its hope "to change the direction of the [US] government and change the current administration come November." Think they'll play the Aladdin casino in Vegas? Wednesday, August 04, 2004
BASICALLY BECAUSE NO ONE ASKED FOR THEM: Here are some photos from my recent Chincoteague vacation. First, the hoofprints of Misty herself, as immortalized in the Main Street sidewalk outside the town movie theater. Then, some shots of actual living wild horses on the Assateague wildlife refuge, including a colt whom I startled from a nap such that he rose to join his mother. (Sorry about that, young fella.) Here are some laughing gulls that may possibly know how to read. A Maryland roadside historic marker. A traffic jam in the bustling downtown streets. Monday, August 02, 2004
It's not exactly a State secret that our nation's bestselling work of paperbound non-fiction is presently available online as a free download. No excuses for not giving it at least a good once-over. Sunday, August 01, 2004
AND WHILE I'M PLUGGING JOURNALISTS let me not neglect to mention a new book of photographs, Between Cracks, by E.C. Adams, currently available for online purchase. Mr. Adams is a longtime friend of this Red Righthander, with his own website permanently enshrined in our Hall of Browseable Fame. In the photo-journalist's own words:
AND NOW, THE HARD UNPLEASANT TRUTH about a guy who often is accused of Communist sympathies, and who, if he continues his fatuous and egomaniacal techniques much longer, is likely to damage leftist activism in the States more than any Republican politician could dream of. I refer of course to Michael Moore, who has been fairly caught faking the headline of an Illinois newspaper in his current film "Fahrenheit 9/11" (yeah, I know, the same movie I urged you all, in rather qualified fashion, to see). Here's a columnist for the newspaper spelling the matter out in detail, such that I have nothing further to add other than my express wish to see Moore get his large ass kicked in front of live television cameras. No, really: how does he think he can keeping doing these things without serving up silver-plattered ammunition for conservatives? Or does he really see no further than whatever cheering crowd is right in front of him? Fucking jerk.... We ought to be paying attention instead to serious journalism (by folks who, you know, get out and actually investigate an event and then report on what they saw), as for example this new coverage in Rolling Stone of the Agu Ghraib prisoner abuses (remember those?), featuring some of the details the Defense Department has been working strongly to keep under wraps. BUSH SUPPORTERS SPEAK OUT: "We are very keen that Bush does not lose the coming elections," write members of the Abu Hafs al-Masri Brigades, in a message sent earlier this year (just after the Madrid train bombings of March 11) to the London newspaper Al-Quds al-Arabi. Lawrence Wright in The New Yorker describes the Brigades as "a group claiming affiliation with Al Qaeda." The group further admires Bush's "idiocy and religious fanaticism" for their pro-active effects in the Islamic world. Meanwhile, here are some Commie pinko-symps campaigning right in the heart of America to literally Run Against Bush. Wednesday, July 28, 2004
A couple of online entertainments: First, the apparently very popular "This Land" animation, courtesy of JibJab, and then, the ought-to-be-as-popular "I Know Where Bruce Lee Lives" ultra-interactive Kung-fu Remixer, which frankly I don't quite understand yet, but it's blowing my mind anyway. Yes, Alex, this is the coolest site ever. Are the lug nuts on a '55 Ford really that tight? Dan Rather weighs in on the "dullsville" Democratic Convention, daddy-o. Monday, July 26, 2004
THE MAN WHOSE BANDWIDTH EXPANDED: Lots of Fall videos available for online viewing at this spot. Because, you know, I don't mention The Fall enough around here. Sunday, July 25, 2004
"It's true that I've driven through a number of red lights on occasion, but on the other hand, I've stopped at a lot of green ones but never gotten credit for it." Glenn Gould, quoted in this year's biography, Wondrous Strange: The Life and Art of Glenn Gould, by Kevin Bazzana Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Yeah, you can just forget about significant updates until at least this Friday night, as Internet connectivity is sporadic at best from my location(s) here on the Eastern Shore. See y'all later....and that includes all you fans of "Uma Thurman's feet" [popular search item #36] Friday, July 16, 2004
The Red Right Road Show returns to Chincoteague, Virginia tomorrow, on account of last year was just such a blast. No, seriously, adjacent Assateague Island has miles of wonderful beach, so that's where I'll be, dodging skeeters, wild ponies and the occasional shark (at least I think that's what I saw swim past me out on that sandbar). In honor of the local horses, I'll be bringing along Isaac Babel's Red Cavalry stories...and likely a good thing too: look at this miserable forecast. Wednesday, July 07, 2004
On the afternoon of July 3rd, after leaving a screening of Fahrenheit 9/11, I biked over to Independence National Historic Park to see the Eyes Wide Open exhibit, sponsored by the American Friends Service Committee, on display at the Visitors Center. The following afternoon I returned to take some photos: here is one, and a second, and a third and a fourth. The next morning I went out along Penn's Landing to see some of the sailing ships that were moored there in the Delaware River, and in some cases already preparing to depart. Also in the Delaware was a Navy patrol boat, apparently providing security both in general and for the USS Navy destroyer Laboon anchored just a bit further upwater. Here is a second patrol boat. I keep wanting to say "That's Cambodia, Captain." Monday, July 05, 2004
I FELT LIKE A GRINGO Performed by Minutemen on the EP "Buzz or Howl under the Influence of Heat" (1983) Written by Mike Watt Sunday, July 04, 2004
THE TEMPERATURE AT WHICH PATIENCE BURNS: Make no mistake, "Fahrenheit 9/11" is a phenomenon. I didn’t even try to get tickets on its opening weekend, and the following Wednesday, after work, when I strolled by the single theater in downtown Philadelphia where it’s currently playing (on two screens), both prime-time evening shows were already sold-out, so I bailed once again. Yesterday I bought my seat for the 3 PM show two hours in advance…and a good thing too; that show sold out, as had at least two of the later shows by the time I exited around 5 PM. I’m pleased to see this movie doing so sensationally well, concretizing in unavoidable long lines the degree of sheer disgust so many in this country feel with President Bush and his cabinet. Hope sprouts. As a matter of fact, there’s just one thing wrong with "Fahrenheit 9/11," and that’s the fact that it really isn’t a very good movie. Michael Moore’s biggest "mistake" (one that’s already made his movie the highest-grossing documentary in history, so I fully concede the joke is on me, if not the President) is his determination to tackle virtually every aspect of the W. Bush Administration in under two hours. He could easily have got one solid movie (hell, three or four) if he’d focused on a single area: the 2000 election fiasco; 9/11; the Bush family’s obscene ties to Saudi business interests; the US-led invasion and occupation of Iraq. Of course I realize these subjects are inter-related, but in his haste (an unkinder man would say his desperation) to show the darker connections between and among them, in his rush to get it all in, Moore neglects to make real ipso facto arguments, supplying instead his characteristic insinuations and cheap stock-footage inserts and musical cues so that we in the audience can congratulate ourselves for being in on the joke and knowing the real score. (And why not, I hear you ask, when these methods have served him so well to date? Yes, they’ve served Moore very well, but have they served the cause of getting the greater truth established once and for all?) And speaking of rushed, what’s with the editing job Moore performs on "the smoking gun," the "he'll be toast" footage of Bush freezing up for a full seven minutes in front of that Florida classroom on the morning of Sept. 11, after being told that a second plane had just struck the World Trade Center? I couldn’t wait to see it...and I’m still waiting, because it isn’t in the movie. What Moore did (after apparently coming to a decision about his audience’s patience) was drastically telescope the footage to perhaps 30 seconds (and I’m being generous here) overlaying a time-stamp every few seconds along with his patented sarcastic narration as to what Bush might have been thinking as the minutes passed. Imagine how effective that agonizingly uninterrupted shot of Bush could have been...if only Moore could have let it alone, no edits, no voice-over, nothing. Just the dreary real-time event itself. Imagine the audience positively squirming with rage and anguish as Bush sits there for 420 very long seconds, making his eye-wandering faces, an absolute picture of ineptitude rendered Andy Warhol-style. Imagine if the movie had started this way. (Or should I leave my own screwy film tastes out of my argument?) After all, is there a better way to subvert Bush than by simply showing footage of him hanging himself in front of a live camera? (Happily, the movie ends with a well-known doozy of an example of just this.) Maybe what galls me most about Moore is his "whatever works best this minute" approach, which leads to wildly contradictory material being present here, as in all of his films. About midway through "Fahrenheit 9/11", there’s a montage of American soldiers describing the best heavy metal to listen to in their tanks as they lay waste to Iraqi homes and civilians. Our horrible soldiers are roasting the children of Iraq and grooving to the action! Then, when Moore wants to make the point of the war’s cost to American families, he shows us the GI coffins and amputees, the weeping mothers, the bitter veterans. Our poor soldiers are being roasted in Iraq and nobody cares! Gee, it’s amazing how the troubling complexity of real life manages to creep into even a movie that features "Do Something: www.michaelmoore.com" and no other website addresses, activist or otherwise, in its closing credits. So, in conclusion, SEE THIS MOVIE! Register to vote! Get unregistered people to vote! Read non-mainstream and/or non-US news sources (many of them freely available online). And stay tuned for more Independence Day coverage, including, possibly, photos. Friday, July 02, 2004
The actor by which all others will forever be judged....and the only one who could have properly played The Judge in any film adaptation of Blood Meridian. (I'm convinced Cormac McCarthy had Brando in mind when he wrote the character.) People always joked about Marlon Brando (in fact, as a child I saw him parodied by television comics long before I had any idea who he was), because when you're that great, it's what people do. He was riveting even in the poorer films, even in the outright stinkers, searing in the great ones. And let's state the obvious: he and Vivien Leigh in A Streetcar Named Desire give the best paired performances in movie history. So fire up the DVD player tonight, soil up your undershirt, and drink a toast to an American son. Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Monday, June 28, 2004
No I didn't see Fahrenheit 9/11 this weekend, on account of the long lines and sold-out shows I never like to deal with under any circumstances, not to mention I spent much of Sunday afternoon helping out with a voter registration drive. But I expect to see it sometime this week...meanwhile, if you've seen it yourself, please send your comments, which I will cheerfully post. Friday, June 25, 2004
You know, I'm really sick and tired of all the one-sided palaver we continue to hear about Ronald Reagan almost three weeks after his death. I think it's high time somebody said something nice about him for a change. And who better to do that than sweet-tempered Miles Davis... Swear to God, it's true. On page 378 of his autobiography (published 1989), the Prince of Darkness Himself wrote (or spoke to Quincy Troupe, if you will): "When I met the President [in 1987] I wished him good luck in trying to do what he was doing, and he said, 'Thanks, Miles, because I'm going to need it.' He's a nice enough guy when you meet him in person. I guess he was doing the best he could....Reagan was nice to us, respectful and everything." When I remembered that Miles Fucking Davis said that about Reagan, I understood that all the stories of Reagan's legendary charm really had to be true. Any white man who could get Miles Unbefuckinglievably Fucking Davis to say that about him HAD to be one primo smoothie. All the more so as Davis (who met Reagan during a tribute to Ray Charles, eerily enough) had this to say about the rest of the evening: "That was a hell of a feeling I had down there in Washington, feeling embarassed because those white people down there who are running the country don't understand nothing about black people and don't want to know! It was sickening to be put in a position where you've got to teach dumbass white people who really don't want to know in the first place, but feel obligated to ask them silly questions...And the President sitting up there and don't know what to say. Man, they should have written down something hip for him to say, but they ain't got nobody hip nowhere around him. Just a bunch of sorry motherfuckers...When we left, I told Cicely [Tyson, his then-wife], 'Don't you ever as long as you fucking live bring me to no more of this shit, make me feel sad for white folks. I'd rather have my heart fail doing some other shit than I would have it fail doing some sorry shit like this. Let me run my Ferrari into a bus or something.'...After this, I knew it was over between us and didn't want to have anything to do with her." By the way, the entirety of Davis' thoroughly absorbing autobiography, all 448 pages of it, is in this vein. And Reagan charmed this guy? God, I suppose it's true.... Wednesday, June 23, 2004
I'm way too beat to post a detailed account of last night's David Foster Wallace reading at the Free Library of Philadelphia. But until I do, here's a scan of (merely one page from) my now-officially-DFW-approved notes compiled while reading Infinite Jest (any resemblance to certain LP cover purely unintentional). Tuesday, June 22, 2004
FORGOT TO CARRY THE "2": "The State Department said today that global terrorism in 2003 killed or wounded more than twice as many people as the department had reported earlier. The department said the earlier report was based on flawed calculations...The revised report said that 3,646 people were wounded in terror attacks last year, more than double the 1,593 cited in [the original 'Patterns of Global Terrorism' report published in April, 2004], and a substantial increase from the 2,013 in 2002." Full article in today's New York Times (free registration required). "Fahrenheit 9/11 is a sinister exercise in moral frivolity, crudely disguised as an exercise in seriousness. It is also a spectacle of abject political cowardice masking itself as a demonstration of 'dissenting" bravery.'" Christopher Hitchens goes after Michael Moore big-time in today's edition of Slate. Friends have questioned my own criticism of Moore, but all I say today is: please read Hitchens' comments in full, then e-mail me with any comments, which I'll be happy to post. Monday, June 21, 2004
UPDATE OR DIE: Both Moby Lives and Harvey Pekar have been removed from my Browser Hall of Noteworthiness. In their stead, I give you The Farting Dot. Saturday, June 19, 2004
Then, if you're not too exhausted, try this future-First-Lady-and-President double-feature this weekend: Donovan's Brain and The Killers (1964). Then try recalling all those Reagan tributes with a straight face. FOR THE SOLO TRAVELER: CNN.com profiles Onancock, a small town on Virginia's Eastern Shore which I had the solitary pleasure of visiting last summer. And what a pleasure it was! It's amazing how much fun you can have by yourself in Onancock. Seriously, this is one jerkwater burg you'll want to come back to again and again. Don't forget to stop by the seed store downtown...just be sure to have them double-bag your purchase; you don't want it spilling all over the ground, do you? Yessir, no visit to Virginia is complete without taking a whack at Onancock. Wednesday, June 16, 2004
QUICK, WHILE IT'S STILL JUNE 16TH: I am going to risk sounding pompous, I am going to risk sounding troglodytic. To begin, my credentials: I first read Ulysses in its entirety almost 20 years ago (this book by Stuart Gilbert helped) and the novel remains one of my very favorites, a work of art so thumpingly good (and comical) that I still enjoy any one of its randomly-turned-to pages, continue to quote certain lines from memory, continue to believe that its 17th chapter is the greatest sustained achievement in English prose ever. That being said, the present so-called "Bloomsday centennial" is something of a crock. Anything that promotes James Joyce and his unique accomplishments is fine with me, but...TODAY IS NOT THE CENTENNIAL OF BLOOMSDAY! Ulysses was originally published in February 1922, which, I will argue, means that the fictional day in June 16th, 1904 it celebrates (as opposed to the real-deal calendrical June 16th, 1904) is REALLY ONLY 82 YEARS OLD! I know, I'm anal, I'm a party-pooper, I need a good therapist, but nevertheless, THE FICTIONAL BLOOMSDAY OF ULYSSES IS REALLY ONLY 82 YEARS OLD. ITS CENTENNIAL WILL PROPERLY OCCUR IN 2022. Just you try it on.... Sunday, June 13, 2004
"I'm really embarrassed for this nation, and for MTV and VH1 and Rolling Stone, because it was a very racist thing not to acknowledge [jazz drummer Elvin Jones] when he passed...For them to (play up) Ozzy Osbourne and other corny-ass white people, but not Elvin, is demeaning and I'm really embarrassed to live in this country." Carlos Santana speaks his mind for the San Diego Union-Tribune on the recent passing of Elvin Jones and the lack of media attention thereof. My new hero. Thanks to bassist Mike Watt for posting this on his mailing list. Saturday, June 12, 2004
Looks like readership is really picking up around here; some days I get as many as 6 unique hits! Thanks to all browsers, and perhaps I should have given y'all a heads-up about my being on the road (from the 9th thru the 12th) and not particularly able to sit down and blog. Business travel, you see. Work. Oh where? Sunny Tampa, FL, and now at last I fully realize that while there is a body of water named Tampa Bay, and a generally defined land area around same (consisting largely, it appears, of Tampa, St. Petersburg and Clearwater) that goes by that name, there is in point of fact no city named Tampa Bay. But there is a Tampa, I can attest to that, with a deservedly storied, Old-World-flavored neighborhood called Ybor City, at least one terrific restaurant I am compelled to plug, and a smart-alec President-Bush-hating-but-not-the-lapdance-kind-of-bush-hating stripclub owner with a penchant for eye-catching banners, one of which was hugely visible from the front of my hotel at all times. Monday, June 07, 2004
Meanwhile (once again): Earlier this evening I passed through Philadelphia's more-or-less-finally-revitalized downtown district on my way home from work, and decided to stick my head in at the Broad Street Border's to check the crowd awaiting David Sedaris. It was vast! And getting vaster! Well over an hour before the beginning of his scheduled appearance! As much as I enjoy Sedaris' writing, I wasn't going to hack this mob, and I turned to go, when who should pass directly by me, escorted by a store employee, but Mr. Sedaris himself, ker-fuffling in his unmistakable voice. Great timing, eh? So I left. Certainly got my money's worth. Like I was saying: "[T]he fact is, huge swaths of [Philadelphia] voted against [Reagan] in 1980 and again in 1984. His fiscal policies helped bring the city to the brink of bankruptcy. And his conservative views not only made Philadelphia one of the most Democratic cities in the country but eventually pushed away the once pro-GOP suburbs." Read the whole article here. Free registration required. Sunday, June 06, 2004
MEANWHILE: In case there was any doubt the horse was ultimately from Philadelphia.... Just as well, I suppose. The way they were hyping Smarty Jones in all the pre-race bullshit, I thought they were going to breed him with Britney Spears right there on the finish line. RONALD W. REAGAN, 93, CLAIMS "CAN'T RECALL DYING": Bob Hope...Katharine Hepburn...Ronald Reagan...when will this pitiless litany of tragic death ever cease? How many more icons of American culture will meet their untimely ends before the national psyche is permanently shattered? Let us give thanks for the great legacy of the Reagan Presidency, the lasting accomplishments of those eight years: the unquenchable burgeoning of hip-hop, a really impressive string of small-label rock bands, network broadcasts of SCTV, the mainstreaming of condoms, the small-plastic-vial market and the related car-window-repair industry (special discounts for downtown urban residents). But mostly, when I remember the swelling numbers of mentally-ill homeless folks who appeared on the streets of Philadelphia and New York (to say nothing of other American cities with which I am unfamiliar) in the 1980s, and then think of Reagan's last decade of life lost to Alzheimer's Disease...I fucking laugh out loud! Unless, of course, he was Alzheimer's by choice. Friday, June 04, 2004
POST-MEMORIAL DAY ANNOUNCEMENT: The latest in simulated military-funeral gadgetry. If only Philip Dick were alive to appreciate this... Thursday, June 03, 2004
RUTH IS STRANGER THAN DAVID: Two days ago, Michiko Kakutani laid into David Foster Wallace's new book, Oblivion (free registration required), and perhaps a bit unfairly; I haven't fully read Oblivion yet but have read at least three of the stories contained in the collection, as they appeared in magazines previously, and while I have my problems with Mr. Wallace, I find his work can't be dismissed so off-handedly, certainly not for the squeamish reasons given by Kakutani. Case in point: the same Monday edition of the New York Times in which the book review was printed also ran this article about a peculiarly-named Princeton senior who fed almost a decade's worth of New Yorker fiction into a database in order to detect statistical trends in that mag's editors' publication habits, and if that ain't an instance of a DFW-style OCD missing-the-spirit-for-the-forensic-details character breaking into real life, then I don't know what is. Wednesday, June 02, 2004
Search items that have brought select individuals to this blog: Orwell Rolls in his Grave Cha Chi and Joanie Joanie Loves Trotsky Tayeb Salih and Pulitzer Uma Thurman's feet Naked Actors Photograph, Penis Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Three video clips from The Fall's April 9 appearance at NYC's Knitting Factory are available herein. (Courtesy Punkcast.) SEE Mark E. Smith redefine insouciance by singing and chewing gum at the same time! HEAR the much-too-trebly videocam soundtrack! STRUGGLE to make out Elenor Smith's voice in the mix! Friday, May 28, 2004
This year marks the 50th-anniversary of the original release of Godzilla, and this Memorial Day weekend makes an apt time for watching the Big Guy make his big first impression on Tokyo in this rather-historic re-release. No joke: this is a grim nightmare film, derived from King Kong, of course, but reflecting the spectacular trauma of a fire- and atom-bombed nation almost a decade after the end of the Second World War. Sure, that first reel is pretty creaky (though film bugs will have fun identifying actors from The Seven Samurai) but the lasting effect is pretty somber. Tell 'em, G. Tuesday, May 25, 2004
"I was deeply disturbed by Moore's comment upon receiving the Palm d'Or that, 'I want to make sure if I do nothing else for the rest of this year that those who died in Iraq have not died in vain.'" Has any filmmaker in recent memory generated such bi-polar critical reaction as Michael Moore? I don't simply mean wildly split reactions from different (left-wing/right-wing) camps, I mean wildly split reactions from the same journalist, within the space of a single article or feature interview, thoughtful critics who appear aghast at Moore's personality: the pompous-humble-folksy-manipulative-lying-soothsayer act that both drives and subverts his work. And I think they're correct. Please see these two articles on Moore, the first from Andrew Anthony of the Guardian (UK), the second from David Poland of The Hot Button. Poland's essay especially is extremely to the point, and I seriously recommend reading it through to the very end, especially to the section quoted above. Monday, May 24, 2004
And speaking of the column on the left-hand (which is never read...waaaah ha ha, I crack myself up), both MobyLives' and Harvey Pekar's sites have not been updated for months. Come on, guys, even I'm not that slow! Post something new or risk the dreadful possibility of being scratched from my list. "My name is Tanya Headon and I hate music. All of it. The purpose of this weblog is a simple one: to detail, week on week, the failings and infinite wretchedness of the stuff, building into an encyclopaedia of musical badness." She ain't kidding, either. Hours of pleasure for musical trainspotters. To be read aloud in stridently female British accent for maximum enjoyment. Instant addition to the Red Right Blog clickable Hall of Fame (see left-hand column). Thanks to Large Hearted Boy for the clue-in. Sunday, May 23, 2004
"No one, not Pushkin, not Mahfouz, can describe what happened to us." -- a former inmate of Abu Ghraib prison in the reign of Saddam Hussein, as quoted in a 1993 Human Rights Watch report (courtesy The New Yorker, May 17, 2004). Which leads me to some follow-up comments upon Mahfouz's work. No doubt that my Western tastes kept me from reading his Cairo Trilogy with great enthusiasm, no doubt that I simply don't get the rhythms of Arabic literature, at least not yet. But obviously Arabic readers get Mahfouz, as witness the quote above. Clearly the man matters. And as weeks have passed since I finished the Trilogy, the portions of it which seemed to me redundant and gaseous and overdrawn have filtered out of mind, till what remains, successfully, is its emotional core, the living depiction of a troubled Egyptian family and nation. (Something like when I read Dreiser's Sister Carrie, rolling my eyes at the laborious prose, but finally absorbed by the author's powers of social observation.) Another underlying theme that remains from Mahfouz' novels: humiliation. The rage at being pushed around by Western forces (British in early-20th.-c. Cairo, but oh how times change). The inferiority complex, the self-loathing, the rage, the rage. I admit it: my initial reading of Mahfouz will have to be revised. Wednesday, May 19, 2004
Almost four years ago, in a Bread Loaf Writers' Conference workshop, I had the pleasure of reading some of the novel-in-progress manuscript of fellow-conferee Mindy Friddle. Now I have the pleasure of seeing Mindy's novel, The Garden Angel, about to be published. No surprise: it's very accomplished work. Friday, May 14, 2004
Monday, May 10, 2004
"On the surface, GBV were old, ugly, drunk guys and their records sounded like shit." A knowledgeable oh-bitch-you-are-read about the retirement of Guided by Voices. I might have to start paying attention to this goddamn Black Table. Thursday, May 06, 2004
The recent Pentagon announcement that coalition troop levels in Iraq will stay the same until at least the end of 2005 has me thinking I can do a little math in advance. (Sort of a time-saving operation, you understand.) There are, after today, 603 days remaining until the end of 2005. At the present average rate of 1.85 fatalities per day suffered by US soldiers since the beginning of the invasion/occupation of Iraq, we can expect 1,116 additional deaths (rounding to the nearest full number) by midnight, Dec. 31, 2005, for a total of 1,882 dead American servicemen and women. If we consider the figures for all coalition forces (2.11 deaths per day), the number rises to 1,272 deaths from now until (Happy New Year!) the crack of 2006, or 2,145 in all. As stated in previous posts, these calculations do not take into consideration either coalition wounded or any Iraqis whatsoever, be they military or civilian. If you find these figures too dry, just consider the pictures, guaranteed to provide a lifetime of memories. Tuesday, May 04, 2004
Two days from today, it will be exactly one year since a shy, mysterious wee little slip of a blog took its first tentative steps into the Internet. Sniff: I always cry at a blogaversary! What hath 365 days wrought? Roughly 620 dead American servicemen in Iraq for one thing, no single one of whom got as much press as the passing of Bob Hope, the mortal-coil-shuffling of Idi Amin or even the release of Gigli. Never fear: at Red Right Blog, prioritizing is one of our middle names. Monday, May 03, 2004
Speaking of photographs, it appears most folks coming to this site do so as a result of searching for Heudnsk. Found photographs are the new reality show (slogan of the day): here's the direct link to where you'll find them on the Heudnsk site. Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Now this is what I'm looking for: photographs "credited to an unnamed U.S. soldier who served in Iraq." Thanks to Moorish Girl for the link. "Van Helsing (Hugh Jackman), a hunter of monster to the leash of the Vatican of aim nineteenth century, fights against Dracula, Frankenstein, the man lupo and other creatures orrende, because it must... Ok, I admit it: I have not understood the weft. Perhaps indeed, I have understood it and is nonexistent. However it is, we put it therefore: there is a tizio that it kills the monster." That, my friends, is just the beginning of an Italian-language sneak-review of the forthcoming Van Helsing as Babelfished into English. Full-text available here on Aint-it-Cool-News talkback. Tuesday, April 27, 2004
DON'T STOP NOW: A big Hollywood-action-movie "Nooooooooooooo!!!" from yours truly and certain other rock fans as well. Hmmm, just as the Pixies re-unite, Guided By Voices disbands, like some vast re-alignment of the musical cosmos. Sigh. I know, there were always some who said the band has really just been a Robert Pollard solo project ever since 1997, and yet....looks like I'll finally have time to catch up on their back catalog now. Friday, April 23, 2004
In line with my previous post: has anyone managed to log on to The Memory Hole? At all? I've been trying since last night and haven't made it yet. Presumably due to extra-heavy traffic, and not because the site's been taken down. Thursday, April 22, 2004
CALLING ALL IRAQ-BASED CORRESPONDENTS: Yeah, I really mean it. If you're a soldier (of any army) serving or having served in the present Iraq conflict, an Iraqi citizen, a reporter/media-person covering events therein, or you just happened to pass through Iraq sometime in the past year...Red Right Blog wants to hear from you. Please direct all news and stories to my attention...nothing will be reprinted without your prior stated permission. Thanks! (And yeah I know I'm really exaggerating the extent of my readership, but I figure this is worth a try.) The 13th Philadelphia Film Festival concluded last night, and out of its "nearly 250 films from 43 countries" I managed to see exactly six, these being, in descending order of appreciation: Memories of Murder, Super Size Me, Control Room, A Tale of Two Sisters, Orwell Rolls in his Grave and The Other America. Memories of Murder offered long, airy takes suggesting Visconti with attention defi -- oops, that's a professional movie critic talking. In my unprofessional way, though, I hope Memories of Murder, a deserved smash hit in its native South Korea last year, gets US distribution; it scarcely goes astray in its depiction of "backwards" policemen attempting to catch a particularly cunning serial murderer; avoids exploitation at all times; manages to sustain sympathetic interest in its characters while dramatizing their deplorable faults; somehow adds gallows humor to the mix without spoiling the overall tone. Super Size Me and Control Room, both documentaries, will be in (some) American theaters very soon; the former uses boisterous Michael Moore-style techniques (with varied results) to get at the behemoth of McDonald's and its behemothization of human bodies, the latter gives you a fly-on-the-wall look at the "notorious" Arab-language al-Jazeera network as the Iraq War commenced in March 2003, including plenty of footage you will never see on American network TV. (Major flaw: we don't really learn much about al-Jazeera's origins and background, nor why a number of Arab governments have banned it.) A Tale of Two Sisters...hmmm, well, the terrific web site captures the movie's atmosphere pretty damn well, so log on, kill the lights, pump up the sound and get scared. Unfortunately, what we got onscreen looked great but devolved into yet another post-Sixth Sense mishegotcha (TM) [yes, I've trademarked that word, don't even think of using it yourself], which is a fool-the-audience-routine that doesn't make any sense, not to mention throws characterization out the window. The last two films: good intentions often pave the road to tedium. Orwell's been getting some "festival buzz" but is awfully repetitive, bumpy, and needs more work. And the director of The Other America, based on this and previous work of his I've seen, should be seeking a career in social work, not moviemaking. Saturday, April 17, 2004
Who knows what goes on inside the brain of a professional movie critic? I suppose that press deadlines make anyone's mind do strange things. In his April 16 qualified-rave review of Kill Bill Vol. 2, Elvis Mitchell of The New York Times writes: "[The movie] offers long, airy takes that suggest Visconti with attention deficit disorder; in other words it's the narrative style that Sergio Leone employed in "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly." Allow some time for the absurdity of that sentence to sink in; a fraction of a second ought to be enough. Mitchell could have swapped the directors' names and made about as much sense; if the movie is in the style of Leone (you wish, Tarantino!), then why not say so? And really, does "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" appear to be the product of ADD? It's more like the film where Leone began to seriously advance his particular technique of slow extended takes combined with highly effective cross-cutting, that is, editing for maximum dramatic effect, and not randomly like some hyper video-weaned child (we'll call him "Quentin," just for the sake of argument). Sheesh. But that's not the only metamorphosis Mitchell is up to; earlier in his review Mitchell also lets slip that "if Dusty Springfield had been an actress, she would have been [Uma] Thurman." Maybe so. And I suppose if Uma Thurman were a singer, she'd be Dusty Springfield. See how easy it is? And what's this? Among Tarantino's many (many, many, many and obvious, obvious, obvious) influences, Mitchell cites "all the Shogun Assassin movies." Except guess what? There's only one Shogun Assassin movie (called, believe it or not, Shogun Assassin); it happens to consist of footage culled, for American distribution, from a series of six Japanese films generally entitled Lone Wolf and Baby Cub. So what Mitchell really meant was "all the Lone Wolf and Baby Cub movies," which are, thank god, beginning to be released on DVD, and boy are they ever good...far superior to anything Tarantino's attempted, at least in the "lightning samurai sword" department. If Billie Holliday had been an actress, she'd be Halle Berry? If Perry Como had been an actor, he'd be David Duchovny? Once I get the hang of it, my resume's off to the Times. Wednesday, April 14, 2004
Highlights from one of last night's reality-based prime-time programs (all text verbatim): "One of my hardest parts of my job is to console the family members who've lost their lives....You know, I just — I'm sure something will pop into my head here in the midst of this press conference with all the pressure of trying to come up with an answer, but it hadn't yet.... [Saddam Hussein] was a threat because he funded suiciders....[I]t's incumbent upon us to learn from lessons or mistakes and leave behind a better foundation for presidents to deal with the threats we face. This is the war that other presidents will be facing as we head into the 21st Century." Tuesday, April 13, 2004
Heard the one about the First Unitarian Church of Kennebunkport, ME? No? Well, while you're pondering the acronymic possibilities of that fine institution, allow me to briefly relate last night's (Apr 12) goings-on in the First Unitarian Church of Philadelphia PA, where The Fall played to a robust and appreciative audience. I'm guessing about 250 people came out to see the band on a miserable night of cold spring rain, in the downstairs auditorium of the hip church (very popular spot for indie/small-label groups). Opening act The Thieves wasn't bad, a sort of early-goth/post-punk outfit with a squonky synth not unlike early Pere Ubu. The Fall took over after 10 pm, leading off with Boxoctosis, MES being helped up on stage eventually (to cheers) and into a chair behind a card table where he remained put. I can't imagine anyone undertaking an extensive overseas tour shortly after suffering a broken hip (and femur?) but Smith is doing it, and I have to say it suits him. No longer subjected to its leader's usual on-stage perambulations and knob-fiddlings, the band put forth an uninterrupted evening of tight, amped-up hypno-repetitive music, one number leaping right into the next. The Love/Mod Mock medley was a standout--and what a pleasure to hear Middle Mass again! Smith happily alternated between the two mics available to his reach, declaiming energetically in high style. He even cracked wise in a few asides, something I've never witnessed before (this was my 8th Fall gig, thanks very much)-- saying "Welcome to the guitar shop" early on and comparing himself to Gollum much later. Eleanor has two keyboards now, a korg and the cheap casio-thing, but I couldn't hear any difference between them (poor sound mix?) Encore consisted of Dr. Buck's Letter and Big New Prinz, with Smith declining to trouble himself with resuming the stage, only his voice coming seance-style as the band played on, much to the apparent consternation of concertgoers further back in the room and unable to tell what was going on. A manic fan was allowed to take the stage with mic and sing wildly during the obligatory "He! Is! Not! Appreciated!" moments. Band grinning. Exeunt. Sunday, April 11, 2004
LONG TRILOGY, LONG POST: I finished Sugar Street, the last volume of Naguib Mahfouz’ Cairo Trilogy, yesterday morning, and I suppose my opinion of the complete work remains essentially the same as expressed here on April 1st. To get the most negative statement out of the way: if this trilogy had been written exactly the same way about an American family in a large American city, I doubt very much that I would have read it through to the end. The effect is as of staring through the various windows (front, back and bedroom) of a representative Cairo family from 1917 through 1944 (approx. from the end of one World War to another) with all the fun and boredom that entails. No denying that, due to its sheer length, the trilogy conveys a sense of the grinding passage of time over decades, the wreckage it makes of bodies and hopes. But, as stated before, Mahfouz is not much of a tale-teller, preferring instead to marinate us in the often very slow simmer of daily events and thoughts as they occur in the lives of his characters, many of whom lose their charm (so far as I'm concerned) over the three novels. Take Yasin, the oldest of the five al-Jawad children: the comic aspects of his non-stop philandering and lying really start to curdle after a while, until he’s seen as just a fat lazy selfish predictable slob…and then we just keep on seeing him and seeing him. Likewise Kamal, the youngest son and impotent intellectual: if the author intended to portray the boring sterility of a neurotic life given over entirely to intellectual pursuits, well, dear reader, he succeeds to a big fat fault. I was thoroughly sick of Kamal and his insanely self-involved brooding (especially on the subject of love), of which the less said the better. There’s a statement Mahfouz never heard of...: he does everything to a fault, doesn’t know how to make a point succinctly, doesn’t when to move on artistically. Of course, people don’t change, of course people settle into patterns of self-defeating behavior, but that’s no reason to bury the reader under the sands of this observation in chapter after redundant chapter. And would it kill us to have a little more drama? (I know, I know, I'm a hopeless Westerner.) Even the outbreak of WW2, significant parts of which were fought in Egypt, seems to become just one more thing for the characters to talk about endlessly…okay, there’s that one dramatic air-raid scene leading to the death of a major character, but…that wasn’t enough. I don’t need Gen. Rommel to personally drive a tank onto the scene, but I couldn’t help remembering War and Peace, which as I recall managed to present a truly huge cast of interestingly vivid characters over its epic length, and managed to blend the historic and personal aspects of early 19th-century Russian society. I couldn’t help remembering Sentimental Education, Flaubert’s unsurpassed novel of French generational history, whose young hero, passing into middle age, experiences romantic anguish, gradual disenchantment with life, and extinction of boyish ideals, all conveyed in meticulous language in just slightly over (can it be?) 400 pages. Oh yeah, the sexism thing too, and wondering how much of it is Mahfouz’s observation of Arabic life and how much of it is simply his own: the short shrift given to female characters, though they’re seen to grow more independent as time moves on. Touches I did like very much: Mutawalli al-Samad, the ancient street-sheikh, not remembering who the deceased elder al-Jawad was as the funeral procession passes by; it's a great and truly sad depiction of how everyone passes out of mind eventually…the “future in abeyance” tableau of Sugar Street's conclusion, as two opposed brothers of the youngest generation, a Communist and an Islamic fundamentalist, are detained in prison, while their uncles (Yasin and Kamal) shop for characteristic clothing: baby clothes for Yasin’s impending grandchild, a new black tie for Kamal to wear for the impending funeral of his and Yasin’s dying mother. And, of course, learning the adjective Cairene. So, in the end: three novels (or one really huge one) affording more pleasure for having been read than they did while actually being read. I hear good things about Tayeb Salih.... Here’s a link to some good introductory material on Mahfouz. Friday, April 09, 2004
From this week's issue of The Onion: Frank Zappa Fan Thinks You Just Haven't Heard The Right Album NEDERLAND, CO—In spite of your insistence that you are not into Frank Zappa, avid fan Roger Von Lee believes that you would change your mind if you heard the right album. "You're prejudiced, because the only Zappa you know is 'Valley Girl' and 'Don't Eat The Yellow Snow,'" Von Lee told you Tuesday. "Seriously, you need to check out Hot Rats or Absolutely Free. Zappa and the Mothers were at their peak, and Zappa's jazz-rock fusion experiments predate Bitches Brew. That'll totally convince you that Zappa's the shit." Von Lee added that if those two don't get under your skin, he can recommend another 15 to 20 albums that will for sure. Wednesday, April 07, 2004
Unbelievably, The Fall are embarking on a new extensive tour of North America this spring (beginning this night in Baltimore, MD, as a matter of fact), despite having played the US just last summer, and double-despite Mark E. Smith's broken hip, making him, of course, The Broken Hip Priest. I expect to be seeing them the night of April 12th; details as they bubble up-ah. Tuesday, April 06, 2004
A pleasure to note that "Buried Secrets, Brutal Truths," The Toledo Blade's extraordinary series of articles on Vietnam War atrocities committed in 1967 by Tiger Force, an "elite fighting unit" of the U.S. Army, received the 2004 Pulitzer Prize for Investigative Reporting. The articles originally appeared in October of 2003, and are now online, along with additional media material (photos, sound files) unavailable in print. President Bush and his big firm stance on the transfer of sovereignty in Iraq. As others are noting, it's some pretty highly qualified firmness. Friday, April 02, 2004
Tim Gane and Laetitia Sadier of Stereolab broke up? And they're still recording and touring together? How does that work? PS: I still really miss Mary Hansen. Thursday, April 01, 2004
On a tenuously related note: since February I've been slowly reading through The Cairo Trilogy, a vast, sprawling, rambling and at times frustratingly-pokey family epic by Egyptian author Naguib Mahfouz, who was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1988. The trilogy is comprised of the novels Palace Walk, Palace of Desire and Sugar Street (all named after actual Cairo throughfares) and since I expect to finish Palace of Desire tonight, I will here officially proclaim myself 2/3s of the way through the whole work. For a long time I'd heard this trilogy described as one of the premier examples of Arabic literature, so I've been reading it carefully, and right now I'm giving it a grade of B. There isn't a single character or event that rings false, and quite a lot about daily life (c. early-20th century) and even more about nightlife in a crowded Arabic city is revealed to a benighted Westerner such as myself, in particular the interpenetration of Qu'ranic scripture in everyday thought and speech. On the other hand, Mahfouz is not much of a storyteller, with events simply unfolding without any grand narrative structure (is this the essence of Middle Eastern art? Is this the point?), and, worse, he is often gaseous in the extreme: a young man's interminable monologues about unrequited love take up much of Palace of Desire, and brother, was I happy when he finally decided to get drunk and visit a hooker instead (on p. 348, if you're interested). And the English translation...hoo boy! This book has GOT to sound better in Arabic than it does thanks to William Hutchins and Lorne & Olive Kenny: "The closest he could come to identifying his beloved was through attribution to it of some divine names, like truth, the joy of life, and the light of knowledge. It seemed his journey would be long. His lover appeared to have boarded the train of Auguste Comte and passed by the station of theology, where the password was 'Yes, Mother.'" And this is after he's been laid... HOWEVER: The same character (in the same chapter!) gets off one of the best observations in the entire Trilogy (so far) and here it is: "Be careful not to mock youthful dreams, for that's a symptom of senility. People affected by this disease term their sarcasm 'wisdom.'" Yes! It's true! And so I look forward to seeing the Trilogy to its end. |
