Hills Like White Elephants

. . The woman came out from the bar.
'Four reales.'
'We want two Anis del Toro.'
'With water?'
'Do you want it with water?'
'I don't know,' the girl said. 'Is it good with water?'
'It's all right.'
'You want them with water?' asked the woman.
'Yes, with water.'
'It tastes like liquorice,' the girl said and put the glass down.
'That's the way with everything.'
'Yes,' said the girl. 'Everything tastes of liquorice. Especially all the things you've waited so ong for, like absinthe.'
'Oh, cut it out.'
'You started it,' the girl said. 'I was being amused. I was having a fine time.'
'Well, let's try and have a fine time.'
'All right. I was trying. I said the mountains looked like white elephants. Wasn't that bright?'
'That was bright.'
I wanted to try this new drink. That's all we do, isn't it - look at things and try new drinks?'
'I guess so.'
The girl looked across at the hills. . . .

I think this story and that loveable mofo, DJ Zen, are what I think of when I think of absinthe. Which made Halloween weekend interesting. The ritualistic aspect to making the drink explains why Hemingway loved it so much.

And I Don't Know What to Do...

I'm still very much obsessed with James Blunt's hit "You're Beautiful." The video too is strangely fascinating -- none of the normal flashy stuff for an ADHD TV audience. There's one set, one camera, one singer singing directly at the camera.

Of course, there's the weird question about whether or not he's jumping off a cliff to go swimming, or to end his misery. (Why else arrange everything in your pockets in a nice, straight line? Even though some of us do that all the time...)

Random Thought #842

Does Roman graffiti count as the evolutionary ancestor of the blog?

Oh NO he did not!

Robbie Williams' "Tripping" starts with the Gandhi quote about political opponents.

Emperors and Chinstraps

So stodgy old Penguin, the publishing giant, must be trying to hipsterize itself.

A well-known comic artist (or so a quick Google search shows, since I know nothing of comic art) has drawn the cover art for Penguin's new release of Candide, one of my favorite books. And I can't find an online image large enough to read the comic! Savvy web marketing, Penguin people! How will I know to buy it if I can't read the cover? How will I know if I approve of graphic art gracing the cover of great classics? I do, of course, but am just curious as hell... =)

Also from Penguin, The Elements of Style is now illustrated, putting a new twist on Language Arts teachers' mantra of "Show vs Tell! Show vs Tell! Show vs Tell!" It's also been made into a song, apparently. Part of me appreciates such a statement about communication and the melding of the visual, language, and performing arts. The other part of me wants to forget I was given three copies of the Strunk and White classic before the age of 16.

Note to Trainers Who Give Prizes During Pop Quizzes

If you give big black plastic Halloween-toy arachnids (can't even type the S-word) as a prize to someone in the front row, a person blogging in the back row might look up and squeal rather loudly.

Those things might be fake, but they're huge! And they look real!

Plus, if a certain trainee has already established herself as the trainee who spills coffee all over the snack table first thing in the morning, she might begin to think that the gods are amusing themselves directing the course of her day. (She can laugh at this herself, but is further justified in distrusting deities.)

Woof Woof, Pavlov!

No joke, I stood for a good full minute or so with my soapy hands beneath a faucet, before I realized it wasn't an automatic sensor faucet. I even hunted for the sensor!!! And then I finally saw the hot and cold water handles on each side of the faucet.

Oops.

Which reminds me, how long has it been since I've seen a non-sensor faucet in a corporate restroom? Not that this is one of life's more pressing questions. (Thanks to a recent award recipient I now know a great quote about life's pressing questions ... even if I heard said quote at an ungodly early breakfast for a beloved nonprofit. But I digress.)

And yes, the software training I am attending provides ample opportunities for blogging. =)

Cheesy Pop moment #528

Heard this song last Saturday during a particularly hectic Ballard-to-Rainier Valley-four-times trip, and now I can't get it out of my head.

I love the video, too! It contains an example of a classic behavior pattern for mildly OCD people! (If anyone has had dinner with me and observed me arranging the utensils, there's a scene in this video that should strike a chord!)

Pleasant surprise in the Lone Star State

Washingtonians "Tim" and "Diana" (Seattle karaoke buddies coincidentally in Austin for separate business meetings) were waiting to sing at a dive bar, and figured out that Austin has a smoke-free ordinance! After chatting with the bartender, I learned it passed 52-48%, and took effect Sept 1.

And apparently the bartender's tips have gone down significantly since...

At any rate, at least I didn't smell like smoke afterwards. =)

And we learned the hard way that if you don't know the karaoke host, it kind of sucks.

And the moral of the story is...

If a book is recommended to you by the paranoid but sweet lady next door (who was robbed one night while you were home and just thought she was just moving her furniture), and said book also is on your Senior Class Book Recommendation list (from which you have recently decided to choose reading material), it is not necessarily a fabulous book.

Despite Gavin de Beckers' credentials in helping elected officials, movie stars, and ordinary people learn to recognize, predict and avoid patterns of violence, I found his book redundant. Basically, it asserts over and over again that people (women in particular) should trust their instinct, and should learn how to recognize their instinct because their lives or well-being could depend on whether or not they listen to it.

There are some useful chapters on language cues in potentially dangerous situations, occupational hazards, domestic violence, stalkers, and aggressive children. It's just that the whole book is peppered with the stories of his clients who failed to tune in to their intuition and as a result had horrible things happen to them (I mean, there are the success stories, too, but the failures are so traumatizing... The opening chapter tells the story of a woman who escaped from a rapist/murderer. It was awful to read.)

Anyway, the book has good nuggets of advice in it. But like the central theme, it's all instictive anyway.

Good Night, and Good Luck

This movie is pure brilliance.

George Clooney's film about Edward R. Murrow's battle with Sen. Joe McCarthy, Good Night and Good Luck is entirely in black and white. Almost every scene takes place in the CBS studios. With the exception of a woman singing on-air between programs (and in the opening and closing credits), there is no swelling soundtrack to alert the viewer when to be inspired. The script is extremely dialogue-heavy. The real-life footage from the Senate hearings is not edited for cute soundbites. Ultimately, like the underlying premise of the profession Clooney's Murrow seeks to defend, the film attempts to report simply "the facts" (however pre-screened, edited and fictionalized in a hyper-real account).

I kept thinking about Arthuer Miller's The Crucible throughout the screening -- I think it's because Miller's play, about 17th-century Salem, was written in response to McCarthy's witch hunts. I have no idea what Clooney's underlying political motivations might be, but the timing of his film might indicate that the screenplay was written in response to certain current events and legislative trends.

Go and see it!

No more neo-Luddism

So now I know that Brown does nothing for me, and I'm not very happy with a certain Spirit of Service, given that both managed to lose two DSL packages. Nonetheless, all's well that end's well, and I am no longer mentally living with the mysterious and yet brilliant builders of a relic on Salisbury Plain.

Pimp My Party!

The Tories are soliciting feedback on how to make the Party cool. I will admit, at first I thought it was a hoax put on by renegade Labour or LibDem interns. But then it asked for genuine feedback!

According to The Sun, at least, the website really is real. (And if you see it in the Sun it's so, right, Virginia? Even if it's the Sun across the Pond...) And it's commented on in at least one Labour MP's blog (which you know is run by young 'uns).

Maybe the GOP should attempt a similar "How to Get Hip" campaign. Um.... or not.

Nervous laughter...

Many thanks to the FG for mentioning that Friendster now allows people to see who's been viewing their profiles, rather than letting viewers remain anonymous.

Had several minutes of panic when the change was mentioned oh-so-casually. But thankfully, it's a new month, and nobody whose profile I viewed in August or September will ever know! This runs the gamut from old classmates/History Dept rivals to friends-of-friends-of-friends I always run into at fundraisers.

Cue nervous laughter...

"Alias" premiere

Okay, so why should I watch Alias next week? They just killed off the hot, hot hot guy! With no teaser for next week, hinting that maaaybe he's alive, and they faked his death so that this new Prophet Five international conspiracy group doesn't come after him.

C'mon, ABC! Tell me you passed Market Demographics 101! The under-40 female viewers (or at least this one) are not okay with this!

I understand writing a pregnancy into the script to accommodate Jennifer Garner's real-life expectancy. But killing (dare I say "killing"?) off a character because the show's two stars are exes and can barely work together anymore? Get over it! I want Vaughn back on the show!

Sometimes the phone number is one digit off...

Note to Future Self: Make sure it really is yo' mama's voicemail before you leave a message saying "I'm jumping in the shower, but come on over anyway. I should be out by the time you get here. See ya."

Otherwise, the person whose voicemail it really is might call you back. . . . And then there will be awkwardness.

The Ticket

It's now officially West Wing season again!

Nice surprises -- Will is elected to Congress in three years! (Although getting put on the Ways and Means Committee as such a newbie is a stretch...!!!)

Questions -- Can Santos overcome a 9-point poll deficit? And who is the leak???

Addiction, addiction. But it's been fun, especially since I figured out two seasons ago that Haffley's character represents the WA 5th congressional district (inspired, methinks, by George Nethercutt's politics and Tom Foley's stint as Speaker of the House).

Policy instead of caffeine

Just need to say... I LOVE having fast-paced conversations with savvy people about campaign strategy! Even at 9:30 in the morning! Despite having barely sipped my coffee, I think going over campaign failures of a new Arizona law and trying to defeat the same awful initiative in Washington revved me up enough for the rest of the day.

No man is an island (especially with all this technology!)

Maybe it's just because I've worked 9-6 today, will still be working from 7-10, and have only an hour to restore my sanity, but I found this to be the most hilarious thing since I re-watched Chicken Run last week:

Pardon My Planet,
Sept 16, 2005

I think Donne, Hemingway, andHugo would get a kick out of it!

As You Like It

Loved Catcher in the Rye, and loved this book too. In typical Salinger style, it's cynical. It addresses the emptiness and the facade of American material culture. Though it's set in the 1950s, the characters and their disillusionment are still relevant.

The title characters are the two youngest siblings in the Glass family, all of whom have been child stars on a radio show called "It's a Wise Child." The central plot of the book revolves around what it means to pray incessantly. Since they're also geniuses, the answer doesn't come easily to the pair! For all their precocious wisdom, for all their intellect, the Glass kids are not happy. Franny and Zooey are actors (literally and figuratively), and all the world's their stage. The story is a little angst-ridden, and in contemporary terms could be classified as a record of a quarterlifecrisis. I can ignore the fact that the one having a nervous, hysterical breakdown is the female character. I can even ignore the undertones of Asian exotification (those wise Eastern philosophers always sound so mighty appealing to those trapped in the throes of Western materialism!).

But between the preachy monologues of the two main characters are such amazingly accurate glimpses of human behavior! There's a scene where Franny's date picks her up at the train station, and Salinger describes the faces and actions of those waiting on the platform. Later, they're eating lunch and Salinger describes Lane's satisfied look at being seen with the right girl in the right place; Franny knows what he's thinking, feels guilty for knowing it, and adjusts her actions accordingly. The descriptions of Mrs Glass are also so apt, so human, and so universal: while her two rather privileged children are bemoaning the lack of intellect in American society and trying to reach a higher spiritual plane, she worries about their health and warmth and happiness. The irony that Franny and Zooey are missing the accumulated poignant, smaller and real moments of life while they're busy deconstructing the larger, complex facade is hard to miss.

Ultimately, I think that's Salinger's point about "praying" without ceasing. Maybe Zola was onto something.

"All politics is local" --and the locals are loony!

After The Stranger's City Council candidates' debate, a friend and I walked away knowing exactly who we'd vote for this primary season. Planned to stay for half an hour and ended up watching the whole circus.

Primaries are always more amusing than generals!

Of Mice and Men

So deciding to go through the Senior Class Book Recommendations was a good idea. Choosing to first read the shortest book on the list was ... maybe not the best idea. (I might add, it's one of those books you try to hide under a napkin when you run into three people you know at a coffee shop.)

I forget which of my peers in that "community of scholars" recommended Who Moved My Cheese?. Basically, it's one of those inspirational guides for corporate managers, about learning to roll with the punches. And it doesn't even attempt to hide the metaphors! Two mice, Sniff and Scurry, adapt to Change (ever with a capital C!) quickly when someone moves the Cheese (again with the proper nouns) in their little maze. Two "littlepeople," however, named Hem and Haw, plan their lives around the Cheese never leaving, and are not equipped to cope when their Cheese is moved. Haw decides to leave his comfort zone and go off in search of new Cheese. Whenever he learns a lesson, he writes in on the walls of the maze in case Hem decides to follow. In the end, of course, he learns how to deal with Change and finds new Cheese.

Next time, I won't opt for the 40-page huge-font book. =)

What would be fun, though, is to apply a Marxist analysis to the whole situation! Are Sniff and Scurry the ever-trampled proletariat, and Hem and Haw the comfortable bourgeoisie? Why can't the mice and littlepeople unite to destroy the maze and explore the bigger world outside? Don't they wonder where the Cheese is coming from and why it's being moved? Shouldn't they try to own the means of production? Or even a postmodern slant would be fun --- how do they know the maze or the Cheese is "real"?

Too much fun with managerial morality tales!

"As for my own kingdom ... "

Uber-humanities dork that I am, I took two Geo courses to get rid of my science requirements. The only vaguely interesting things about Geology were the volcanoes and earthquakes, mainly because once they're documented they become part of the social science realm (if a tree falls in a forest and no one records the effects, does it really matter if it fell? Makes a good discussion topic.)

This is not a random tangent!!! The anniversary of Vesuvius' eruption in 79 AD was almost two weeks ago. (Just now weeding through the old "This Day in History" emails....)

Pliny the Younger's account is a disturbingly detailed account of the event --yay, primary sources! (And ah, fond memories of zoning out of math class in middle school to flip through archeological magazines.) But I'd forgotten Vesuvius is Europe's only active volcano -- its last eruption was in 1944. The blast that leveled Pompeii and Herculaneum is the most famous but certainly not the end of the mountain's capabilities.

Now I have the Dar Williams' song stuck in my head.

But, "as for my own kingdom..."

Scheisse on several fronts

Late-night bad news can create ripple effects, as with the passing of Supreme Court Chief Justice William Rehnquist. So now Bush gets to appoint two Justices, and the country is screwed for the next 50 years. (The two newbies, whoever they will be, won't live that long, but the precedents they set in court cases for the next 20 years will resonate for considerably longer...)

So, WTF, Rehnquist died. Ben is in Iraq, and the updates from his family in Maine are heartbreaking. The PATRIOT Act will be reauthorized and essentially made permanent by Congressional conferees. REAL ID will be implemented. I-343 is coming to Washington State.

Pre-emptive apologies to anyone who will encounter (or has encountered already!) the extreme bipolar moodiness that can result with a slew of scheisse on every possible personal and political front.

Time for some cheesy pop music to make the world go away...!!!

Random Literary Moment

Walter de la Mare's "The Listeners" has always vaguely reminded me of Alfred Noyes' "The Highwayman". Perhaps it's the imagery and overwhelming tones of mystery and silence that words like "phantom" and "moonlight" evoke. Or it could just be the fact that travellers, horses and ghosts are involved. =) At any rate, I think some of the most beautifully alliterative lines are these poems.

from "The Listeners":
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.

from "The Highwayman":
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding
-Riding-riding-
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs . . .


No idea why these popped into my head on a Monday morning! Maybe it's the staring out across Puget Sound, through the harbor mist. Or just cabin fever.

Oh! AHA! The random reference last night to Anne of Green Gables! (Anne recites "The Highwayman." The L.M. Montgomery heroine came up in a discussion about Dickens' Oliver Twist, after a karaoke performance from Oliver the musical.) Whew! Not just random spazzing on a Monday morning...