WonderBlog

I mean the movie, with Laurence Olivier and all, not the book.

I confess, I've tried to read the book three times, and found it emotionally exhausting. This is the first book I had not been able to conquer, and it surprised me. I had loved Jane Eyre. But Emily is not Charlotte, as I discovered.

The next book that conquered me was the Silmarillion. I don't imagine that anyone is surprised by that.

I tried to read Wuthering Heights again later, and it had the same effect. It was just too much! I needed a break, and afterwards, I didn't feel like hanging out with those people again.

But I knew there was a movie, and I figured that I could make it through a movie. I did want to know how the end turned out.

The movie was on TCM this weekend, and I had my chance.

You know, it was less exhausting to see Cathy beating her brother with the riding crop than it was to read about it. Imagining it made it seem more cruel than seeing a little sister whapping at her brother.

Of course, Heathcliff as Laurence Olivier made it easy to believe that Cathy would be in love with him. Oh, Olivier is beautiful!

It was all gothic, love beyond death and stony castles and craggy rocks and a smoldering young hero. These elements have been used to good effect in many other places.

I guess what made the book so hard to read is how unlikeable Heathcliff and Cathy both are. When Cathy says "I am Heathcliff!" it is easy to believe, since they are both so mean to each other.

It really could be one of those "They deserve each other" situations. One over-riding message of the story is that true love conquers all.

But equally apparent is the idea that one does not need to be virtuous to have true love. Of course, the victorian idea of virtuous was mostly keeping up appearances. And staying in your given social place.

Heathcliff wouldn't do that. Cathy wished she didn't have to, but still wanted all that her priviledged position could give her.

I think she wished she could run away with Heathcliff, and didn't. In the end it killed her.

It's convenient, how heroines are so fatally unhealthy. Makes for dramatic death scenes.

This one was nice, I have to say.

I remember believing in love that tempestuous. I'm a little older now, and I am mostly glad that I am not afflicted with it.
Mostly.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 08:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

In this new place I life, LA, appearances seem to be pretty important.

Homes are a part of that. Here's an article for the LA times about the zeitgeist:

Keeping Up With the Jonesing

"Having the time and money to build your own home used to be one of the perks of wealth. McMansion buyers, by contrast, are the working wealthy. Many of them labor long hours to pay the massive mortgages on their massive houses. For them, it's more practical to buy a previously designed place that projects an aura of wealth, prestige and personal achievement—off-the-rack opulence, if you will—rather than create a unique architectural symbol of high culture and refinement. If you want individuality, you can always sink some bucks into unique landscaping or remodel that useless formal dining room into a private pool hall."

This makes me sad. Individuality is important. It's one of the things that makes a neighborhood charming. Heck, it's what makes people charming.

It seems wasteful to have a huge rattley home that doesn't suit your family's needs. You shouldn't live your life for other people, and you shouldn't buy a house just because other people will be impressed by it.

Especially the cost is so high, it takes you away from your family.

It's important to pop your head up for air once in a while.

I remember a friend saying that people will spend a lot of time reducing discomfort, but don't spend very much time increasing comfort.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 01:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

My friend Tantek put up this very interesting post a while back.

He came up with some categories for organizing his life:

grow
restore
maintain
prune
close

You should read the whole post to get his thoughts on it. But I found this framework to be really thought-provoking.

Sometimes, a new perspective, a different way to approach the problem, can give you a place to begin. So, I've been trying out this new categorization idea. Taking a look around my life, it becomes apparent to me that there are some things I want more of (to grow), some things I want less of (to prune) and some things I really want to get rid of altogether (to close).

It is one of my life-long habits, to look at the shape of my life and try to adjust it to what I really want. It is very easy for all of us to get into the cog of doing what is next on the list.

But what about evaluating the list?

So these categories give some tools to evaluate the list.

Thanks, Tantek! You have inspired me to get closure on cleaning my patio.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 10:54 AM | Permalink

As far as I'm concerned, the whole point of this movie is when Drew Barrymore is standing on the pitcher's mound and everyone in the whole packed stadium is applauding her wildly.

That ALONE is a huge-normous fantasy fulfilled.

And it's the first scene of the movie.

The rest, except for the very end, is flashback.

The whole thing is fantasy fulfilled. For everyone that's looked in the mirror and come up with the perfect response to yesterday's taunt, here is your movie. Everyone would like to go back and do it right this time.

High school was so tortuous, we all have things we'd want to do over. So that's what Josie (aka Josie Grossy) gets to do.

It's cute, and it's horrifying to remember all that high-school drama. And the crying in the bathroom scene! I swear, there could be a whole documentary about girls crying in the bathroom.

Naturally, it's all cathartic, and she emerges an empowered woman, finds her true love, etc. etc.

And that's what makes it such a good movie. I'd watch it again.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 10:23 AM | Permalink

Someone wrote to me and asked if I could add a link on my site to their site.

I am quite impressed with this request. I checked out the site, and it does not seem to suck. I am happy to link to his site.

He already linked to mine.

I am pleased to see politeness on the internet. It seems rare.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 07:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

It is warm, and the breeze blows fresh sunshine-smells over my face. I dance across the campus pathway, my first college spring at home in Northest America. I hum a spontaneous melody, so full of newness and joy:
Do you ever feel like singing
Right out loud to the sky above?
Is it the same spring? I am feeling that joy in spring.

It is spring, and the seeds of the past are coming back. Those wishes, fears and hopes that fall from me in actions, thoughts, and sacrifices do not cease to be with my forgetting. With seasons come change. I change every year and every day.

The detritus of a squished population surrounds me. There are scraps of clothing, boards and machinery. Buildings need a coat of paint; the melting snow runs tracks through the grime of the old and peeling surface. Water pools in ruts on the ground, forming long ponds across the passageways. No municipal services are left in Yakutia after the death of communism. Pedestrians, and we are all pedestrians, lay long, thin boards over the seasonal moats. We become brave balancing acrobats to get to school and work. It is up to us to find a way through. Look, what is that flattened thing? The freeze-dried carcass of a cat, fatal participant in the sub-arctic changes of season.
Is it that spring? The warning to build my own path is the same.

But the seasons remain the same. I sing the song I began at the beginning. Its refrain returns in the spring of my step and drops with my footfalls. Beginning and end, life and death—spring brings to life and feeds on death.

In a beautiful mansion donated by a man passed on, different people take turns to stand on their feet and read. Such a collection of interesting noses! They read in their own languages of an empty tomb. It is past midnight, the first time I have heard this kind of service. Christos voskres! Christos Anesti! El Messieh kahm! Christ is risen! He has conquered death by death! Joyful faces tell of a stone rolled away and new life brought from dying. The priest, the leader of the church welcomes me to the pre-dawn table. We eat, and he tells me of his faith, drinking wine. I have never seen a pastor drunk before.
Is it the spring once more? The story is the same.

The melted snow water is being soaked into the wakened tree-roots that make up the Alaskan forest of my memory. Barren branches have waited all winter for the sun-sweet nectar to reach them. Hard buds swell and surge into sticky chartreuse baby-wrinkled leaves. They grow a shocking green, almost painful to the eye when the slanted Northern sun shines right through them. After months of landscape in black and white, eyes must grow accustomed. If I forget to look for just one day, I would think it was an explosion. I do not forget to look. I know it happens quickly, but it is still a progression.
Is it spring again? I feel the expectation.

My will-volition swells with the season. I strain against the hull of old boundaries. Tight-packed growth against well-known walls. I am quivering for my freedom.

Quivering with fear. New life means new death. Chances and risks taken are the straightest path to disappointment. Is not my life now entwined, rooted and fed in the sweat, sorrow and tears of all that came before?

Put another ring around this tree. Either die now or die later. It is spring again, every spring that ever was or will be. I am here to take my place in the season. I am the Resurrection and the Life.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 12:18 PM | Permalink

These things are very tasty!

I had a coupon, so I bought these things in a fit of eat-betteredness.

But they ARE veggie burgers, so they were diligency freezedrying themselves in my freezer.

Until supplies got low.

I had to rush to pack a lunch for work (yet another fit of eatbetteredness) and threw this patty on top of some spaghetti for protien.

After I had microwaved the lot, so that it was all steamy and nice, I took a bite.

Wow! That burger was really good! They had mixed in the mushrooms and the basil and stuff, which was great by itself.

But then they had mixed in some cheese. Wow, that made a difference! It made it juicier and sizzlier. Those are hard to find in a veggie burger.

The patty only has 130 calories, and 3 g of fiber. That makes it very point-friendly for the weightwatchers. And it's just good for anybody.

I thought I would share.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 12:58 PM | Permalink

Another one of those psuedo-documentaries, like Dog Show. It's kind of a cute movie.

Cory-in-the-closet has to direct the 150th anniversary play for Blaine. Red, White and Blaine is what they call it. So the documentary takes you through the lives of the people in the play.

The young lady works at the Dairy Queen. That's funny. And the singing Dentist. He's funny.

Cory, of course, it hilarious with his portrayal of the gay man.

But they are all excited about Guffman, who is a famous theater man from broadway coming to see their play. That just stirs up all kinds of feelings and reactions from everyone.

I think it's worth seeing, a light little video. You have to see Cory's little funky dance.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 11:46 AM | Permalink

Those Southern writers--it seems like they are all filled with drama and theatricality. Appearances, tragedy and social position.

And those amazing accents!

I have to say that it can be really heavy, diving into the Southern drama. When I first started listening to the performance, I felt myself thinking, "Oh no, not another one of these depressing Southern Dramas."

It was depressing. All the characters seemed so trapped. But the story showed about how people are.

It was incredible how much pressure was put on the son, the man of the family. I felt so sorry for him. He was the BREADWINNER, the one who had to make sure his family didn't starve. Yikes! I'm really glad that we have more equal opportunity employment now. I would not want to depend on anyone to feed me.

Or have to feed other perfectly capable people, either. It made me realize that women in this story were not considered "perfectly capable." They were supposed to be protected.

And Laura, the sister, sure seemed to need protection. Either that or a slap in the face. She couldn't even bear to go to school and take an exam. All she had was here little collection of glass figurines.

But the mother! Whoa nelly! She was more capable than any of them. But she had appearances to keep up, and besides, she was a female and had limited earning potential.

She at least understood her handicap. She didn't have any skills, but she wanted her daughter to be able to take care of herself. That's why she tried to send Laura to vocational school.

But Laura was too helpless.

Everyone seemed to be focused on Males. The deadbeat dad, the breadwinning brother, the 'gentleman caller.'

Not a place I'd want to be.

This particular version of the play was especially wonderful, because there is a recording of the author reading the last scene. His voice, with the accent, is so right for the dialogue.

If any actor wants to be in this play, they really should hear Williams himself reading the scene. It made it really come alive.

Also, Williams reads another short story of his at the end about the Yellow bird. It was a great treat that I wasn't expecting.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 11:15 AM | Permalink

I've been working kind of hard the last two weeks. It's getting in the way of posting.

I've got a huge backlog of things to review, but...I get tired and braindead.

I need to have a certain amount of sleep a night to be functional.

You know, I figured out, by trial and error, a formula.

I can function for a day, or two, on 5 hours of sleep per night. I can make it, barely.
But I will get sick if I dont' catch up.

I can go for extended periods on 6 hours of sleep a night. I won't be happy, but I can make it through.

7 and a half per night is really optimal.

But I can't dip into the 5 hour range without getting sick.

This was in my early, wow, EARLY 20s, so maybe it's not the same now that i'm 30.

But I like the symmetry.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 08:25 AM | Permalink

This is another LA Theater Works recorded drama. As far as I know, it hasn't been made into a movie. But it really should be, wow! Arthur Miller knows his stuff.

The story is of a working-class Italian-American family in the 50s. Times are hard for them, and have been for a while. Eddie and Bea have been raising Bea's niece, Katy. Katy is turning into a woman.

It's a struggle for parents to let kids go up. Men especially have a hard time letting little girls grow into women. Some fathers are famously protective. And Eddie gets really protective of Katy.

The narrator of the play is a lawyer, who sees the whole thing play out. He talks about it, like it was a train wreck there was no way to stop.

And I believed it, as I listened to it all.

Bea's cousins from Italy sneak across the ocean to find work. They talk a lot about how hard times are there, that there is no work and that Marco's, the older one, children are starving and dying.

But Rodolpho is not married. He is there to work and does not have scary responsibilities. He is happy to be there, and happy about a lot of things.

He can sing.

How could Katy resist?

And the train wreck is set in motion.

This was an incredible story. It was fully compelling. I wish they would make a movie out of it. I really felt something after it was done, and it stayed with me.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 08:13 AM | Permalink

I wish I had an emoticon for sputtering!
That is exactly how I feel about this situation.

I did a piece about "Daily pay for Daily work-$$$" I was not looking for daily pay, or even thinking favorably about it.

But 'Steven' from http://www.dailycashpay.com had to leave a comment on my post about how I could start such a business.

A Spamment! on my blog! I would delete it, but all comments are artifacts, a thing I wish to foster on my blog.

Are other bloggers getting spamments? Is this an isolated incident?
I hope that 'Steven' is anomalously creative. I would hate for blogs to be infected with spam, too.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 08:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I saw an interview with Danny Devito talking about, among other things, Get Shorty. He said the movie was about confidence.

That made me want to check it out.

Devito's character in the movie was not very impressive. Maybe that was the point. Travolta, now, he was great. His character was riveting.

I don't know if it was because the acting was so great. I can't really think of a particularly dramatic moment for him.

It's just he was so active, he did so many amazing things. Chili Palmer, nobody got in his way. He got the stuff done.

Confidence. Well maybe. Is that what it takes to get things done? Interesting that Devito, a movie star, would choose that aspect to focus in on.

I think it might be something else.
In the movie itself, Palmer says that he would not go about business the way Zimm did. He wouldn't go through his shrink's other client, who happens to be the personal trainer of the great movie star.

He says he would just go ask him.

Of course, for Palmer, little barriers like walls and locked doors are trivial.

I don't know how attuned he was to psychological barriers. Not so much, I would think. But he never had to encounter any in the movie. Weir, the coveted star, just faded before his direct approach.

The movie put the film industry and organized crime in the same category. Position, territory, it seemed like it was all the same things but different titles.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 05:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I'm taking a night class for writing. This one happens to be a Memoir writing class.

It fit my schedule.

But it's also a very interesting style.

One of our assignments is to read a memoir and do a presentation about it.

My lazy impulse is to do a report on a book I've already read. When I stop to think about it, I have read a lot of memoirs:

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

Travels With Charley by Steinbeck

Walden by Thoreau

Earth Horizon by Mary Austin

A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolfe

Paradise, Piece by Piece by Molly Peacock

Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris

As Far As You Can Go Without A Passport by Tom Bodett

Walk Across America by Peter Jenkins

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by David Eggers

On The Road by Jack Keruoac

Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman by Richard Feynman

Grass Soup by Zhang Xianlang

Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott

Citizen 13660by Mine Okubo

Maus by Art Spiegelman

San Francisco Stories by Derek Powazek

The Woman Warrior: Memoirs of a girlhood among ghosts by Maxine Hong Kingston

Those are the ones I just remember, the ones I've read already (or at least started).

I love all of them. But maybe I should branch out and try reading something new.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 11:18 AM | Permalink

There is so much wrong with this, I can hardly begin.

But did anyone else notice the glaring irony of Miss Princess going on and on about looks not being important ('I been around so many good looking guys that I just can't stand, because they rely on their looks...')

all this, and they show footage

OF HER PUTTING ON HER MAKEUP

!!!!

Repeat after me:

DOUBLE STANDARD

Posted by Murphy Horner at 12:13 AM | Permalink

ALL YOUR BASE ARE BELONG TO US
In Sturgis, some jokesters had to remind everyone of that simple fact on April fools day:

"An April Fools joke has seven young men in Sturgis explaining a punchline that the police say was no laughing matter. They put up signs that read "ALL YOUR BASE ARE BELONG TO US, YOU HAVE NO CHANCE TO SURVIVE MAKE YOUR TIME." "

I think it's funny, personally. But maybe they should not have chosen that particular part to quote..."You have no chance to survive" does sound ominous in these times.

Of course, if they'd only put up the URL, the whole thing could have been avoided.

LINK your posts, man!

Posted by Murphy Horner at 04:15 PM | Permalink

It is apparently easier to be charming and literate than people think. The con artist, if that's what he really is, in this production put on the whole think like a glove.

He burst into the lives of Upper Middle Class families and charmed them by pulling down their guards. He had learned the details of their lives and learned the little touchpoints that made him seem deep.

Culture and class is apparently very shallow, if it can be picked up so quickly.

Paul the hero was gay, too. He seemed like a bottom, one who derives his own pleasure from subservience. He wanted to do things for the people he conned. He made Flan and Weeza dinner, and even insisted on cleaning up after.

"Such a nice boy!"

The play checked assumptions, a check like in hockey. It challenged the notion of superiority that the middle class folks had about themselves.

It also brought up the issue of what the children and the parents had to say about each other. That wasn't really resolved, but it was interesting to bring it up.

I like Paul. I like how he turns into a ghost and floats through the walls of people's lives.

I think that the folks who were conned should have had a better sense of humor about it. What were they really harmed, anyway? Only their self-delusions had been stolen. You'd think that Flan, being an art dealer would have appreciated the new perspective on his life.

But he didn't.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 01:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

As a kid, nothing seemed out of my reach.

There weren't any challenges.
Well, there was one. I wanted to be able to run 5 miles. My legs didn't carry me that far. But I wished they did.

Everything else was not a matter of "Am I able?" but a matter of "Am I allowed?"

So little was allowed. Music was suspect, Movies were suspect. Books were kind of suspect. Education, friends, people I might meet, life goals, all these things were suspect.

They might get in the way of "God's will for my life."

God didn't want me to learn at a secular school. God didn't want me to watch movies that Jesus wouldn't watch. God's will was not for me to saturate myself with "worldly" music or expose myself to the influence of non-christian friends.

Eating, talking on the phone, what clothes i wore and where I visited were all to be weighed in the scale of "What would be the Christian thing to do?"

The christian thing to do seemed to be to always be telling my non-christian friends to become christian.

But, as it happened, I wasn't supposed to have non-christian friends.

This situation left me with a lot of time on my hands.

I read a lot. I had no guidance, really, so I just galloped after whatever caught my interest. Lots of austen, dickens. The entire shelf labeled "Young Adult" at the library. I discovered I liked those best.

But I had no one to talk to about what I read.

There was no challenge, really.

When I moved to Russia, I knew nothing. NO one expected me to know anything. I learned Russian when I was there, but that was the extent of the challenge.

THe trip was an exercise in gathering impressions.

It wasn't until I moved back to the states, and got married that I started to really try to challenge myself.

I finally ran 5 miles. It wasn't that hard. I just kept at it.

Then we moved to California. The bay area.

HERE, at last, the bar was raised.

People knew things. There was a challenge in the air. People my age had jobs, and careers. they had interests and specialties. Intellectual pursuits.

whoa. What the heck is this? I felt incredibly inadequate. My little bits of stuff, my little interests and areas of knowledge were pathetic!

it took me quite a while to rise to the challenge. I felt so frustrated, because I knew that i was capable, I just hadn't actually DONE any of these things yet.

My self-evaluation left me really lacking. I had to compensate.

I started to. I got some stuff happening. I wasn't at the top, but I got in the game. I got some self-respect, I got going.

By the time I left, I felt pretty good about myself. I felt like I was making progress. I had something to show.

Now i live in LA.
I feel back at the bottom. Whoa. There is so much going on here. I have so much I want to be doing, want to have DONE already. There is a rushing torrent of creativity going through this town, I want to be swimming in the middle of it.

I am not there yet. The bar just took a big jump.

I want to be part of it. But I don't want to lose myself, either.

I have to take it slow, but I have some serious ground to cover.

I guess I just have to keep at it. A little every day.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 10:56 AM | Permalink

"Haven't you been studying german? Can't you tell me anything in German?"

"Ummm....I can tell you where the German Dictionary is..."

"You're supposed to be learning to speak German!"

"Uh...I'm gonna do that tonight.."

"Well, you have to be able to speak it if you want to go there!"

"Um..yeah...Ja! Ja! I can speak it...

"OH sure...Nien!"

"Ja ja!

"Achtung!"

"Gesundheit!"

Posted by Murphy Horner at 02:46 PM | Permalink

When I first heard the French called "Cheese-Eating Surrender Monkeys" it made me laugh. I wonder if that little epithet is widely known in France though?

Who knows? It's hard for anyone to have perspective on themselves.

But this article is from the Moscow Times. It gave me a little perspective on how others view America:

"It was believed that the Americans were afraid of close hand-to-hand encounters, they would not tolerate the inevitable casualties, and that in the final analysis they were cowards who relied on technical superiority"

Basically, the Russians were convinced that Americans were ultra-sanitized technowusses.

It's interesting to see that the same article goes on to say that the Russians were wrong:

"The worst possible outcome of the war in Iraq for the Russian military is a swift allied victory with relatively low casualties. Already many in Russia are beginning to ask why our forces are so ineffective compared to the Brits and Americans; and why the two battles to take Grozny in 1995 and 2000 each took more than a month to complete, with more that 5,000 Russian soldiers killed and tens of thousands wounded in both engagements, given that Grozny is one tenth the size of Baghdad."

Interesting. The Russians mocked America for not wanting to get it's hands dirty. I imagine some kind of mental equation, the Russians seeing a direct corellation to how dirty the hands are to the likelihood of winning the war.

As it turns out, the Hands-dirtying may have nothing whatsoever to do with winning a war. But Russia doesn't want to admit that:

"The Russian media is generally avoiding the hard questions and serving up anti-American propaganda instead. It is alleged that the U.S. government is "concealing casualties" (like its Russian counterpart), and that hundreds if not thousands of U.S. soldiers have already been killed. Maybe this deceit will become the main semi-official excuse for disregarding the allied victory."

Very Interesting.

Thanks to Jamie for bringing this article to my attention.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 08:21 AM | Permalink

This is the best self-help book I have ever read. No matter how sorry for myself I feel, this book snaps me out of it.

There are sections about your love life, your pets, your friend and yourself. And they say it all, right out there.

Things like:
No one really likes you.

If your pet were bigger than you, it would consider you prey.

Your significant will never be as attracted to you as they are to a person they saw on TV once.

I'm sure a psychologist could use many multi-syllabic words to explain why, but the simple fact is, I love this book.

I grab it whenever I am overcome with too much angst or self-pity. It truly works.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 01:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Hwang is a genius. That is all I have to say. This play is so insightful, cuts so close to the bone. It pulls away veils for anyone that encounters it.

I first read it in book form, and I was in love with it immediately. I was really lucky, because right after I read it, I was able to hear David Henry Hwang speak.

He seems so genuine and open. He wrote this play, but he is also kind of impressed with how it turned out. Often artists are humbled by their muse.

The basic story is a true one, of a French diplomat who carries on an affair with a Chinese person for 20 years. Whoops! The Chinese person was a man, not a woman, and even more whoops, a spy.

Gallimard, the Frenchman, was tried for treason.

Hwang takes this story and unfolds it like an accordion. There is so much to it, and he pulls it apart so nicely.

I remember him saying, during the Q&A period, that he himself had a lot of empathy for all the characters in his play. He said he understood the Asian perspective, but he was a man as well, and he understood the desire to objectify women.

I just heard John Lithgow and B.D. Wong play these parts. Lithgow gave a gorgeous performance, and that confirmed my opinion of his genius. But I hadn't heard of Wong before. He was SO GOOD. The rold of the mistress is a very demanding role. Wow. He was good.

This play is really necessary for everyone to encounter. It will make you check your assumptions.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 02:48 PM | Permalink

This movie was FAST! they didn't stop for a minute.

The girl reporter, what they would have called it then in the 40s, was romantisizing a regular housewife life. She had picked up some dumb cluck man and was going to settle down with him.

But she had to separate herself from the ex-husband/editor/boss that still seemed to think he was in her life.

Rosalind Russell and Cary Grant have so much chemistry, the dumb cluck has no credibility at all.

I love the heroine. She is in so much control. She is instantly in charge of every change in the situation, and works it all out to her favor.

A lot of classic movie irritate me, because the females are so beautiful and behave so impossibly. But this woman not only does things that I might do, she does them better than I would.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 12:28 PM | Permalink

This morning, I woke up and I had to wear something colorful. The need was so intense, I could not ignore it.

Even though I was swept along on this wave of lust for bright color, I was confused b it. This has never happened before. It easy enough to recognize that--there is nothing in my closet that could fulfill the need.

Recently, I've stepped away from all-black-all-the-time to embrace colors such as beige or muted greens. Blue, there is a little navy or discreet blue in there.

As a teenager, I was very enamoured of the deepness of black. Black was so all-ecompassing. Black was simple, black was stark. This was the era of neon colors, so I had a few pieces of Red or Electric blue. But I loved to wear black and the other colors, becuase it set off the contrast. It was another kind of starkness.

Living in the San Fracisco area encouraged the my love of black. Black pooled in my drawers, and sulked in my closet. I laughed about it being difficult to find a particular item of clothing, because the black all blended together.

I learned to avoid cotton dyed black. It faded. Wool, or other fabrics held the deepness of the color better.

So where has this lust for color today come from?

It has been coming slowly, I recognize that. I've been lingering over the patterns and flower shades on the sales racks. Not quite taking the plunge, but thinking about it.

Why now?

Am I the pawn of fashion's will? Have the designers dictated that Colors are now the thing, and I pant after them like Pavlov's dogs?
Am I being influenced by this palm-tree and porsche city? The flowers growing year round, the huge billboards shouting for my attention with bright splahses? The dabs of mandatory paint on the feminine toes everywhere through sandals?Or, to be Alanis about it, had I finally come to a healthy place where I was comfortable with complications in my clothing? Maybe the huge numbers of people in my new city were intimidating, and I wanted to stand out.

These thoughts sifted through the cracks of my consciousness as I single-mindedly shopped for the brightest, loudest piece of color I could fasten to my body.

I wanted something that would announce my prescence boldly without me saying a word. I wanted to stand out and make heads turn.

I found the most amazing little red dress, with purple and orange and hot pink palm leaves in a pattern all over it.

And I really don't care. I love it.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 12:49 PM | Permalink

More LA Theater Works!

This performance reminded me of "The Dollhouse" a little bit. Lily Dale was so tremendously protected and naive. I personally cannot imagine a life where I would never need to spend any money whatsoever. Maybe in Texas they have worked out a system where the wives can go about their business and never need to see the color of money.

Will Kidder and his wife Lily Dale have lost their 37 year-old son to a drowning. They are still mourning his loss when Will loses his job.

That's practically the whole story. Oh, except that the roomate of their son keeps hanging around.

Sounds homoerotic to me. Their son lives at the YMCA with a "roomate." YOU connnect the dots.

Anyway, the couple has to come to terms with what they have of their life. I guess it's supposed to be set in the 50s. I just cannot imagine a life like that. I have so much more freedom and possibility than Lily Dale.

She calls her husband "Daddy", which is also creepy.

It did keep my interest though. I was waiting to see what happened. Shirley Knight, the actress who plays Lily Dale, was nominated for a Tony for her onstage performance of this role. She did stick to it, that's for sure.

The world has changed a lot.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 02:48 PM | Permalink

Who says the bunny can't jam? You're buggin'
If you don't know who I am, You're buggin'
If Bugs ain't the coolest in the land, you're buggin'

EEeeehh..we only buggin'

Space Jam sound track is dead on. Most of the songs are really serious songs, and the CD is worth is for them.

I still like when Bugs does the rap at the end. Man, that's funny. He dead on imitates so many of the hip hop affectations.

Bugs can do it...He's the rabbit

Posted by Murphy Horner at 01:54 PM | Permalink

Disney Channel - Lizzie McGuire

I confess, I've seen the show but barely.

I did, however, notice the big billboard of Lizzie Mcguire as I was riding the bus downtown.

I noticed that she was rather developed for the age she is supposed to play.

Then I remembered Annette Funicello in the Mickey Mouse club.

Is it just me? I think Disney is working it.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 12:26 PM | Permalink

There was a guy at work wearing a tigger coat.

"Oh you like Winnie the Pooh?"

"My wife loves him. She has all the movies."

MOVIES?!

He didn't even know it was a book. He didn't care that it was a book.

Poor man.

Winnie is so much cleverer on paper. That's one of the best things about it, the stories work on a very sophisticated level.

I picked it off the shelf, looking for something to read before I sleep, something that will make me have pleasant dreams.

My copy of A.A. Milne's book was published in Russia. A student gave it to me as a gift when I was there. She thought I would like to have another book to read in english.

The funny thing about it, is that is has asterisks at the hard to translate bits. In the back, there is a definition of the phrase in Russian. Phrases you wouldn't expect, like "he lived under the name of Sanders", and the gender ambiguity of the name "winnie" have to be explained.

Somethings, like "Heffalump" have the explanation saying essentially, "it doesn't translate."

It's nice too, to see a different illustrator's interpretation of the characters. Disney has permanently stamped his mark on Piglet, Kanga and Rabbit. We cannot concieve of Pooh without the red shirt.

Anyway, that's just my copy.

Go get your own. Turn off the news and sit down to remember there are pleasant places still.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 08:28 PM | Permalink

Poems, Short Stories, and Essays by Iranian-Americans

I love classic books, as I've already said in other posts. At the same time, I know that there are a ton of incredibly good works of literature that never quite make the hit list.

This book was co-edited by one of my professors in college, Persis Karim, who has become my friend as well. She's a mover and a shaker, and I didn't even know she had been involved in this book when we met. She was already on to other things.

Someone else bought it for me as a present.

It's an anthology, so you can open it up to anywhere and just read for a little bit. Some of the pieces are a little hard to understand.

But some of them grab me by the throat, they are so beautiful and evocative of things I don't understand. Some of them make me gasp and cry.

I'm really glad I have this book. I think I will eventually read everything in it. It wouldn't be somehting I want to just sit down and read straight through. It's too strong for that.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 08:08 PM | Permalink

CBS News | Guilty Until Proven | April 6, 2003 23:45:04

I certainly agree with the authorities fulfilling their responsibilities to question anyone and everyone that might be able to shed light on terrorist activities.

But it is necessary to hold people for so long?

"The government was able to hold Omar and hundreds of other Muslim detainees by charging them not as criminals but as visa violators. The law says criminals, even murderers, must be charged with a crime quickly – usually within 48 hours – or released.

Immigration laws used to work the same way, but after 9/11, the justice department rewrote the rules so that suspected visa violators could be held in jail as long as the government wants – without any charges filed against them. "

Generally, America has a great system in place to protect citizens from government abuses.
This Afghani-American citizen believed in the system:

"Shokriea says she wasn't worried when her husband was picked up for questioning. At least not right away.

“I knew the US justice system. You're innocent until proven guilty,” she says. “I just thought, you know, he would be questioned and just released.”

But her husband was held for 10 months in solitary confinement at the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn, New York. He later told his wife that "innocent until proven guilty" was not how it worked here. "

I think vigilance is in order.

Thank you, Steve Rhodes, for pointing out this story.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 10:53 AM | Permalink

Friends Plea for Release of Arab-American

Looks like there are some problems with this American citizen being able to get his civil rights.

What's going on here?

"The government won't give any details publicly about the case, including when a grand jury will convene or when Hawash will appear. His attorneys can't discuss the matter because of a federal gag order. His wife, Lisa, won't talk about it because she fears repercussions."

Some people are getting together to do something

Posted by Murphy Horner at 12:00 PM | Permalink

Now that we found love
what are we gonna do
With it?

man oh man oh man! Saw a clip of Heavy D and the Boyz doing that song last night. That is one of those songs that takes my full attention.

The beat, the hooks just get me. I think he's very good.

And he spits out those lyrics like nothing, he just slams them out and moves on before you've even figured out what he did.

I have that CD somewhere, I'm gonna have to find it.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 11:04 AM | Permalink

Buffy is the evil spoiled upper-class heroine of this movie. Jaded beyond belief, she makes a deal with her step brother to seduce and humiliate people who cross their path.

She makes a bet that he can't seduce the headmaster's daughter, who has just come out in a magazine as the "virgin until marriage."

If the step-brother can't do it, she gets to keep his very expensive car.

If he can seduce the virgin, she promises to sleep with him.

Sordid enough for you yet?

It's just terrible, evil and sexy.

The setting is ultra-rich Manhattan, which lends a beautiful background to this very unhealthy and seductive movie.

If you want to be bad, this is the movie for you.

B00001PE4D

Posted by Murphy Horner at 08:30 PM | Permalink

Yahoo! News - Rubber Bullets Used on War Protesters in Oakland

OAKLAND, Calif. (Reuters) - Oakland police fired rubber bullets to disperse about 750 anti-war demonstrators on Monday in what was believed to be the first use of the projectiles against U.S. protesters since the American-led war on Iraq (news - web sites) began.

I wish there were less shooting going on in the world right now.

The photo of the lady who was shot in the face looks painful

Posted by Murphy Horner at 03:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Message in a Battle By Holly Bailey

"Finally, coverage of the war in Iraq nearly overshadowed a major romantic development in Washington this week. As the WP reported yesterday, Tian Tian and Mei Xiang, the National Zoo's giant pandas, mated for the first time on Friday—though zoo staffers almost missed it. The encounter lasted just 15 seconds, forcing curators to study an instant replay of the exhibit's security cameras to confirm it actually happened."

Sounds more like a failed attempt to me. Ms. Panda shoved him off and said, "No way! They are going to play this clip on the internet, you perv!"

Posted by Murphy Horner at 09:14 AM | Permalink

Professors Protest as Students Debate

"Irvine Valley College in Southern California sent faculty members a memo that warned them not to discuss the war unless it was specifically related to the course material. When professors cried censorship, the administration explained that the request had come from students."

Yes, professors...We know you are really excited about the war. But the students know that they need to make it through class to graduate. And they need to graduate, so they can get PAID.

For those not tenured, these things are a consideration.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 04:26 PM | Permalink

Checked this out of the library, on CD. It was really nice to have somebody read me a story while I did computer work. THere were some really good stories on this collection.

It surprised me, because I had read a lot of them before. I thought I hadn't seen anything from the last 30 years. But it turns out I had! Imagine that.

My favorite one from the collection, I hadn't acutally read. "Pet Fly" by Mosely. It was a great story about this guy trying to get the rhythm of corporate life.

My life is a lot of corporate nonsense.

This story tells how a regular guy sees a glimpse of the underbelly. i really liked it. I had to go find the print version of it, so I could give a copy to a friend dealing with the same sort of nonsense.

Turns out the paper version has even more stories in it. I'll have to read them.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 03:10 PM | Permalink

"I wanna know
What you're thinking"

I like the lyrics, but it was the voice of Spock saying "Pure Energy" that made me love this song. Should I be ashamed of that? I'm a trekkie and I love 80's electronica.

This is pretty good 80's new wave/electronica. Some of the songs are very dated, but more than a few on the album are not. The cover makes me laugh, but that doesn't mean I don't keep playing the music.

I suppose I should check out the greatest hits album. I got this one specifically because of the Spock bits in "Tell me what's on your mind"

Posted by Murphy Horner at 01:46 PM | Permalink

I was killing time, waiting for a movie to start in Glendale. There was a bookstore nearby, and I thought I would go look in there.

"Hello There!" A man in a baseball cap sat at a small table right inside the doorway smiled big. "I'm doing a book signing! Would you like one? Here: The Adventures of Rodney Appleseed"

He handed me a book with a color cover. "Oh, It's fiction!" I said, "Fiction is hard."

"Thank you for saying that," he said. "Not everyone understands that."

We talked for a moment about whether Rodney Appleseed had anything to do with Johnny Appleseed. Then I decided to buy the book.

"It's like nothing else you've ever read, " the author said.

"Don't say that!" I told him. "I've read a lot of books."

Thank you, Ross Anthony, author. I've read it. Now I can tell everyone about it.

---------------

The Infinite Adventures of Rodney Appleseed
By Ross Anthony

The hero of this book, Rodney Appleseed, might be just any boy with a preponderous ability to ask questions. But if he were, his adventures would not be infinite. And when you get a bit into the book you realize that infinity is an essential part of Rodney's adventures.

Anthony tells his story with the kind of quirky irony found in The Phantom Tollbooth . He has a message, a kind of moral to the story, similar to Bach's Jonathan Livingston Seagull.

Which is not to imply that the book is in any way derivative. The whole thing was quite original, and a pleasure to read.

Anthony obviously loves the fact that as the author he can do anything he wants in his book. He twists and contorts the impossible and the plausible, having his characters do impossible things that make absolute sense. It makes the reader think about the possible things that are done in real life that make no sense. The book encourages its readers to ask questions and take chances in order to reach their dreams.

0380012863 , 0394815009

Posted by Murphy Horner at 01:28 PM | Permalink

I got to looking at all the other blogger types on the web.
My GOD! some of these people are so accomplished. I feel very intimidated. And insignificant.

Whenever I feel that way, I write.

I AM SMALL

I am small
No one needs to notice me at all
I want to use my talents too
But then I see all the others who
Have more to offer than I do
I am small

I am small
My poem belongs on a bathroom wall
I would at least have people read
The flowering of my creative seed
Even if they did it while they peed
I am small

I am small
I should not try to stand up tall
So many others have come before
Creative artists crowd the floor
I'm not even near the door
I am small

I am small
It isn't even far to fall
I should just thank god that I'm employed
I don't have the right to be annoyed
That my job is a soulless void
I am small

I am small
My words an insignificant scrawl
It's not that I am not the best
I hate to think it is a contest
I'll do my small small bit with zest.
Thank you; that is all.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 12:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Samantha Dunn loves horses. So much that she is willing to suffer the pain of riding, and the various injuries that came from spending time with them. But one day, she was out riding with her horse and got into a life-threatening accident. Her leg was essentially severed from her body.

I have to say, this book starts out reading like the Reader's Digest stories, you know the ones where someone suffers some horrible accident and then has to crawl bleeding to help. I swear, every issue has that story in it. I find them hard to read, but somebody must be eating them up. Otherwise they wouldn't run them.

So Not by Accident must appeal to the same sorts of people. But Samantha Dunn does what I think those stories ought to do, she takes the incident as a sign to re-assess her life. The "Why me?" gets to be more than just a pathetic whine. Dunn turns it into a soul-search, which then turns into real changes.

The book was nearly 250 pages. I could not put it down. I got it from the library on my lunch break, and I was finishing it before midnight that same night.

It's terrifying! Staring into the face of death in this story, and then the relief of being saved quickly transitions into the realization of how small and vulnerable we are. Not having strength to stand. Being dependent on others. Being a burden. Who doesn't deeply fear these possibilities? And no one is immune.

I had to keep reading, I had to know how things turned out. I wanted to know that she would be okay, so that I would know that I would be okay. If anything like that ever happened to me.

Dunn realized that she got into too many accidents. She took a long hard look at herself, and began to take responsibility for these so-called accidents. There were reasons and circumstances that led to these accidents that actually were in her control. Not to say that accidents aren't also accidental, but that the individual has to be responsible for themselves. She decided to take responsibility for herself, to become bravely involved in her recovery. And then being honest with herself and the consequences of her actions started to spill over into all of her relationships.

Despite the potentially airy-fairyness of her yoga and meditation, the book feels extremely physical and earthy. The centrality of horses and the brute reality of the injury keeps it planted.This is a great story, gripping to read and giving a meaningful payoff at the end.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 11:03 AM | Permalink

It turns out that classics just sell better than best-sellers.

All those books, even if they aren't assigned for classes, get steadily picked up and read. People know about them, recommend them to other people, and they keep selling.

I knew that. I love the classics. I make a point of reading them. I feel like I can know that I will enjoy the book, if it's made the "classic" standing.

Sure, it's exhilarating to read a new and undiscovered book that knocks my socks off...I think...I'm not sure it's really happened.

Oh wait, yes it has.

But it's risky to try new things. And there are so many books that come so highly recommended. I reach for the tried-and-true.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 04:25 PM | Permalink

Stevens Speaks on Senate Floor in Support of Opening ANWR

One of the things that was not given a lot of attention, because of the war, was the opening of ANWR beign discussed in the Senate. There is an oil field in Alaska that has

Ted Stevens, the perennial Alaskan Senator, argued passionately for this development. He put it all on the line.

' "People who vote against this today are voting against me and I will not forget it," Stevens warned his colleagues just before the Senate roll call vote began. As chairman of the Senate Appropriations Committee, Stevens can influence funding for a senator's pet project or cause.'

That's about as much pressure as he can possibly put out there.

It's interesting that the vote was so close. 52-48 voted it down. Some Republicans went against party solidarity to vote against it. Some democrats went against their party to vote for it.

I am sure Stevens had a VERY stiff drink after that vote.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 08:47 AM | Permalink

I first discovered Dr. Alban in Russia. 1992. I don't think I ever heard anyone here in America mention him. But the kids in Russia thought he was the bomb back then.

I got his album. Boy, that's a whole nother story!

Let's just say, when I got back to america, I searched high and low, finally special ordering the CD "One Love".

I love it. It is very AFRICAN. The CD is mostly in English, but he has some african language, Swahili, I think thrown in sometimes. I really like hearing songs in other languages. It makes the musical experience more pure, not knowing what is being said. Only listening to the sound of the words, and the emotion in the inflection.

How often do we really understand what each other are saying, even in our native tongue?

Songs in other languages cut me loose to not understand.

Anyway, Dr. Alban is highly electronic. Dancehall reggae, I guess. "Sing Hallelujah" is very gospel sounding. "Om We Rembwe Ike" sounds extremely tribal. I love the foreign (to me) roots of his musical expression. These are great dance tunes.

The message is especially poignant right now, too. "One Love" breaks my heart.

"The rich will live
and the poor will die
this is not it and what is it?
One love"

And "It's my life" works great as a angst teenage song. It also has a deeper meaning, when taken in the context of African politics; Dr. Alban sings love songs to his home Africa.

B000006YC1

Posted by Murphy Horner at 04:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Okay, kids. I started my night class yesterday. UCLA! A REAL university. I was so worried that I wouldn't get there on time, with traffic...I was afraid that I wouldn't find parking...And I don't know what else.

This is a creative non-fiction class. I have NEVER taken a creative writing class. I was so excited all yesterday. I was like that stupid "I lowered my cholesterol commercial."

After my knows-everything-about-LA co-worker Eydie gave me some tips on how to get there from here (take surface streets), I made it. I asked a nice college looking kid...I must be getting old when COLLEGE kids start to look very young...where i could park. I descended into the belly of parking garage. Everyone was nice.

Everyone in LA is nice.

Then I walked up the steps onto the main quad, right below the Janess steps (for those of you who might know the campus).

I saw the grass and most of all the tall dressed-stone and brick buildings. It hit me bodily that I was a student here!
I started to cry, I was so happy.

I remember, Chris and I were talking a few weeks ago. He asked me what I would do if I won the lottery.

"Go back to school." I said it without hesitation and surprised myself.

Just like I surprised myself at how strongly I reacted to being an on-campus student at UCLA.

Class was great. The teacher was funny and not snootish at all. I am a little nervous, not because I think I won't be able to write anything. I've been having NO TROUBLE writing lately.

I'm just a little scared that I have to suffer criticism. I desperately want it, I want the feedback, that's why I want this class. BUt I am afraid that I will be too sensitive.

I'll have to make sure that I prepare myself beforehand.

I was so excited about the class afterwards, that I promptly got lost on the way home. I do that, when I get too deep inside myself. I should have been aware that I would do that, I know myself enough now.

At least I recognized it before I got too off track.

Anyway, there is more to come. I am sure all you readers will benefit from this class.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 02:13 PM | Permalink

Everybody knows that girls always go for the bad boys. That's waht Christy Mahon discovers. He was on the run, after killing his father. He finds a place of refuge in a pub.

Once he tells his story, all the village gets all a-twitter about this brave man who kills his own father.

It's set in Ireland, and it's a lot of fun to hear all the actor's speaking in a Irish brogue. LA theater works is great.

It does have an interesting twist at the end.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 01:08 PM | Permalink

With the second graphic novel, Speigelman pulled out all the stops. He had already experienced the success of Maus, and he even addresses it in the book.

His character is conflicted about the book and his success, and of course the whole Holocaust.

But he Goes There. The first book was disturbing, but this second one went right into the camps and describes it. I found it really hard to read. I couldn't do it straight through. It was just too tough to contemplate.

I certainly wouldn't want a younger child to read this book without some adult interaction. The issues are just so disturbing.

I really appreciate that Speigelman didn't try to tell us a moral at the end of the story, that he just told the story. He just told what he could about what happened.

Posted by Murphy Horner at 11:15 PM | Permalink