Saturday, October 24, 2009
All I Want for Christmas...
I know it's early, but this is what I want for Christmas: "The Complete Stories of J.G. Ballard." What better way to celebrate the loving season than by reading up on the dystopic wastelands of this futurist genius's writing. Joy to the world.
The Writer Who Was Mute
He never speaks but he writes such brilliant and beautiful poetry.
Awhile back the New York Times published an article called "When Writers Speak" by Arthur Krystal about why writers are such bad conversationalists. I couldn't agree more with Krystal's thoughts on this topic. It reminds me of the first time my writing was ever mass-produced. When I wrote stories for the student newspaper in high school, many of my friends and peers thought it was so strange because the writing seemed so intelligent and yet I was the kid who always said "dude" and "man" whenever I spoke. It became an ongoing joke, but it serves to confirm what Krystal suggests: that writers are far better at writing than they are at speaking. In fact, I bet some writers may have even learned how to speak later in life than most people or maybe they were just more shy during their formative years.
Awhile back the New York Times published an article called "When Writers Speak" by Arthur Krystal about why writers are such bad conversationalists. I couldn't agree more with Krystal's thoughts on this topic. It reminds me of the first time my writing was ever mass-produced. When I wrote stories for the student newspaper in high school, many of my friends and peers thought it was so strange because the writing seemed so intelligent and yet I was the kid who always said "dude" and "man" whenever I spoke. It became an ongoing joke, but it serves to confirm what Krystal suggests: that writers are far better at writing than they are at speaking. In fact, I bet some writers may have even learned how to speak later in life than most people or maybe they were just more shy during their formative years.
Insanity's Cure: First-Person Isolated
I waited up for you last night but you didn't show. I waited this morning and then I waited this afternoon and then I waited tonight. Once again, you didn't show. I tried calling your cell phone but it went straight to voice mail. I didn't leave you a message because I remember you telling me that you never return calls. Where are you? I hope nothing bad is happening. You told me once that you sometimes just need some time alone, but how much time do you need?
The clock ticks
I've been here for a week and I haven't gotten any better. The doctors keep telling me that I must be patient, but you know how I am - if things don't change in a minute, I'm immediately dissatisfied. The food here is gross. Half the time I don't even get what I ordered. Some days I'm shocked at the feast they place before me; other days I'm upset with the meals more suitable to a bird. In group sessions, they try to get me to break out of my shell, but I won't break. I'm not telling them anything. It's none of their business. Maybe that's why I'm not getting better.
Alone in a white room with no curtains
I took your advice. I must admit, it didn't serve me well. I found myself in worse trouble than when all the problems first started. Who do you think you are, anyway? What made you think that would actually work? I'm more upset with myself for having taken your advice. Silly me. So foolish. You never had my best interests in your heart; you only wanted to watch me struggle. It brings you joy. Don't ever write me again.
Misfortune teller
I went to the old diner. You know the one. We went there when we were first dating. Back then it had so much more going for it. Back then I had so much more going for me. I ordered the same thing we had that night - a cheddar burger with fries and an extra large cola. It wasn't the same without you. It also cost me a lot more than it did before. I reminisced about the discussion we had that night. You know the one, about whether or not there were diners like this one in heaven. We couldn't decide on an answer that night, but I can tell you now that there probably aren't any diners like this one in heaven.
Remembering us
I don't know why I even bother. It's not like anyone is listening to me anyway. Holding my hands together in prayer is a self-soothing technique that never seems to work. And do you know what the worst part is? I still pray every night, hoping that it will be different, expecting there to be some kind of revelation or at least some type of relief. But nothing ever changes. I'm still here alone, first-person isolated, leading a life that could've been great.
First-person isolated
I've been here for a week and I haven't gotten any better. The doctors keep telling me that I must be patient, but you know how I am - if things don't change in a minute, I'm immediately dissatisfied. The food here is gross. Half the time I don't even get what I ordered. Some days I'm shocked at the feast they place before me; other days I'm upset with the meals more suitable to a bird. In group sessions, they try to get me to break out of my shell, but I won't break. I'm not telling them anything. It's none of their business. Maybe that's why I'm not getting better.
I took your advice. I must admit, it didn't serve me well. I found myself in worse trouble than when all the problems first started. Who do you think you are, anyway? What made you think that would actually work? I'm more upset with myself for having taken your advice. Silly me. So foolish. You never had my best interests in your heart; you only wanted to watch me struggle. It brings you joy. Don't ever write me again.
I went to the old diner. You know the one. We went there when we were first dating. Back then it had so much more going for it. Back then I had so much more going for me. I ordered the same thing we had that night - a cheddar burger with fries and an extra large cola. It wasn't the same without you. It also cost me a lot more than it did before. I reminisced about the discussion we had that night. You know the one, about whether or not there were diners like this one in heaven. We couldn't decide on an answer that night, but I can tell you now that there probably aren't any diners like this one in heaven.
I don't know why I even bother. It's not like anyone is listening to me anyway. Holding my hands together in prayer is a self-soothing technique that never seems to work. And do you know what the worst part is? I still pray every night, hoping that it will be different, expecting there to be some kind of revelation or at least some type of relief. But nothing ever changes. I'm still here alone, first-person isolated, leading a life that could've been great.
Is it the end of the reading process as we know it?
Speaking of books in this modern age, many publishers are now creating digital books that combine audio, video, and Web components to create a more interactive experience for the reader. I think that, while this may work for some books when certain references are made (for example, when self-help books provide a visual demonstration of their directions or when specific historic events are mentioned that could be elaborated upon by multimedia devices), overall it is not the best of ideas. As author Walter Mosley suggests, reading helps expand one's cognitive abilities; to corrupt this pure process with multimedia distractions feeds into a culture of instant gratification, lessened attention spans, and intellectual poverty.
Libraries in the 21st Century
Many libraries now offer digital downloads of books. Though major publishing houses view this advent as harmful to profit margins, I think it represents an excellent opportunity for authors to grab readers who otherwise may not consider reading their work. It also presents more technologically savvy people - and younger people - with more incentive to read due to its convenience. However, I still maintain that nothing can be a substitute for the process of reading a physical book; it's so much more soothing and it really forces you to be more of an active reader. Hopefully, people who borrow books digitally may eventually buy those same books in their physical forms. If not, at least they read the books.
Share God's Love
A week ago, the New York Times published a fascinating, if not infuriating, story by Laurie Goodstein called "A Mother, a Sick Son and His Father, the Priest" about an ongoing legal battle between a woman and a priest who had an affair resulting in the birth of a son who, now at the age of 22, suffers from cancer. The legal debate concerns financial support for medical bills, among other things. Apparently, philandering priests are very common. I'm not surprised - unless these priests wish to remain sexually repressed, they must find some kind of outlet. In my first novel, CONFESSIONS OF AN AMERICAN, a woman ends her affair with a priest and, later in the story, in his old age, the priest's sexual repression morphs into criminal sexual disorder. I wonder if the Church will ever allow its priests to get married. My philosophy has been to see the divinity in other people; worshipping God and speaking on God's behalf becomes a lot easier when you see the divine goodness of your fellow human beings. Relationships and marriage can facilitate this. Why not share God's love?
Is political science relevant?
As an undergraduate, I took many courses in political science. I found them to be both enlightening and, especially in the case of a course centered around the events of 9/11 the semester following the tragedy, increasingly relevant. But it seems recently a senator made a proposal to prevent the continued federal financial support of political science research due to its lack of relevance. Though political scientists are divided regarding methods, be them quantitative/mathematical or social/cultural, most agree that they must make their work more relevant. Personally, I think it's ironic that a politician is proposing funding cuts to a program that supports vital research to the political climate; political science can both help politicians with decision-making and keep politicians in check. So yes, I think political science is relevant.
Insanity's Cure: Deep Sleep
He wore his smile like a grimace as if it hurts to be happy. And maybe it does hurt to be happy. Maybe that lunatical Cheshire cat grin is one of inconceivable torment and pain. We may never know; we can only speculate as he walks down the street every day with that same smile on his face, that same dreadfully contorted smile, the one that makes him look so painfully happy.
I'll sing a sad song for you
There was a time when my dreams were actualized and the subsequent joy I felt was so overwhelming that I couldn't sleep at night. Why did I need to sleep? My dreams had become reality and what reason is there for sleeping if not to dream? I realized the reason for sleeping about a week into a bout with insomnia. I was so very tired that I didn't know I was tired; my brain was so very disillusioned that I didn't know where or who I was. It took some medical intervention to bring me back down to earth, and I could finally dream again.
Daydreamer
There are some things you should know before raging against the dying of the light. The night is as good as the day in its own way. And the stars that decorate the sky like paint splotches on postmodern masterpieces are there to keep you wishing for a better world. The moon that watches over you at night like a mother saying goodnight to her child offers solace in place of awakenings. There is no need to rage; we have all of eternity to get this right.
Nighttime poetics
The life inside of her glowed, but she needed to mute its beauty lest her family look lowly upon her. It was too difficult. You cannot hide something so natural, so beautiful, so powerful. She would risk being disowned because she could create her own family now, one that she chose - and one that she loved for love's sake, not some perfunctory obligation.
On the eighth day
I set free the truth and it has yet to come back. I sometimes pray for its return, but I know it prefers haunting this world with its otherworldly enlightenment as opposed to comforting my selfish creativity. I do not regret setting free the truth for, in doing so, I have set myself free.
Back in context
There was a time when my dreams were actualized and the subsequent joy I felt was so overwhelming that I couldn't sleep at night. Why did I need to sleep? My dreams had become reality and what reason is there for sleeping if not to dream? I realized the reason for sleeping about a week into a bout with insomnia. I was so very tired that I didn't know I was tired; my brain was so very disillusioned that I didn't know where or who I was. It took some medical intervention to bring me back down to earth, and I could finally dream again.
There are some things you should know before raging against the dying of the light. The night is as good as the day in its own way. And the stars that decorate the sky like paint splotches on postmodern masterpieces are there to keep you wishing for a better world. The moon that watches over you at night like a mother saying goodnight to her child offers solace in place of awakenings. There is no need to rage; we have all of eternity to get this right.
The life inside of her glowed, but she needed to mute its beauty lest her family look lowly upon her. It was too difficult. You cannot hide something so natural, so beautiful, so powerful. She would risk being disowned because she could create her own family now, one that she chose - and one that she loved for love's sake, not some perfunctory obligation.
I set free the truth and it has yet to come back. I sometimes pray for its return, but I know it prefers haunting this world with its otherworldly enlightenment as opposed to comforting my selfish creativity. I do not regret setting free the truth for, in doing so, I have set myself free.
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Thom Yorke has a new band!
As you may already know, I'm a huge Radiohead fan and have been as such from the beginning, which is why I'm really excited about the latest developments from Radiohead's lead singer, Thom Yorke. Though Radiohead hasn't broken up, Thom Yorke has a new band which, in addition to Beck/R.E.M. drummer Joey Waronker and percussionist/David Byrne collaborator Mauro Refosco, includes Flea from Red Hot Chili Peppers and guitar+electronic sounds from longtime Radiohead producer/mastermind Nigel Godrich. The new band and its successive shows were casually announced by Yorke last week on Radiohead's official Web site where there's always something interesting being updated on the blog.
As can be gathered from this New York Times article, which describes fan reactions to the band's debut performances, Thom Yorke's new band is as great live as is expected of such a power group.
The band performed some new songs. Here's one of those new songs, tentatively called "Open the Floodgates," performed live last week in Los Angeles. It might be nothing more than a simple set of piano chords and Thom Yorke's sensitive voice, but it's definitely exceptional in terms of revelatory lyricism and melodic malaise.
Yorke and the band mostly performed songs from his solo debut, 2006's "The Eraser." Give a listen to "Harrowdown Hill" and watch Flea get down with his bass and Yorke dance crazily. I especially appreciated Yorke pulling out his guitar four minutes into the song.
It'd be nice to see a Chicago set casually announced...
As can be gathered from this New York Times article, which describes fan reactions to the band's debut performances, Thom Yorke's new band is as great live as is expected of such a power group.
The band performed some new songs. Here's one of those new songs, tentatively called "Open the Floodgates," performed live last week in Los Angeles. It might be nothing more than a simple set of piano chords and Thom Yorke's sensitive voice, but it's definitely exceptional in terms of revelatory lyricism and melodic malaise.
Yorke and the band mostly performed songs from his solo debut, 2006's "The Eraser." Give a listen to "Harrowdown Hill" and watch Flea get down with his bass and Yorke dance crazily. I especially appreciated Yorke pulling out his guitar four minutes into the song.
It'd be nice to see a Chicago set casually announced...
Sunday, October 04, 2009
September Entertainment Roundup
Last month was worthwhile in terms of books, movies, and music. Here are some of my picks:
Books
September, and part of the start of October, are all about memoirs. I'm looking particularly forward to reading Craig Ferguson's "American on Purpose," a story of the comedian's start as a jokester, his battle with alcoholism, his success as a late-night talk show host, and his profound reverence for America. This well-rounded review attests that Ferguson is more serious than joking in his book, which is certainly a respectable thing in literature - and, as the review suggests, courageous for a comedian.
Earlier in September, LeBron James released his memoir of playing basketball with his buddies, winning often, and earning accolades. Though this luke-warm review makes "Shooting Stars" sound like nothing more than a recollection of fun times with friends, I'm still interested in reading it.
Finally, the first week of October will feature Paul Shaffer's memoir of music and showbusiness. Shaffer, known as the longtime bandleader for "The Late Show with David Letterman," is a consummate professional when it comes to music. Based on this informed and excited review, "We'll Be Here for the Rest of Our Lives" sounds like an entertaining set of anecdotes about celebrities as well as a celebration and affirmation of being a musician.
Music (Albums)
I've been listening to Muse since its first release, "Showbiz," and I've always known that these blokes - armed with ominous, operatic undertones and classical skills - would hit it big, but I find Muse's latest release, September's "The Resistance," to be a mess of electronic opera likened to Depeche Mode on steroids spending too much time listening to Queen. Regardless, it's nice to know that Muse has "arrived," as this affirmative interview from Rolling Stone suggests.
Another album released in September that I've given some listens to is Pearl Jam's "Backspacer," debuting at No. 1 on the charts in its first week, the first No. 1 for Pearl Jam since 1996's "No Code." I can't say I love the album, but I know it's better than Pearl Jam's last release, 2006's self-titled attempt at resurrecting the louder and faster sounds of earlier albums. "Backspacer" finds Pearl Jam with an even more familiar sound, something melodious and fast-paced that hearkens back to 1994's "Vitalogy." It's nice that these guys keep on rockin' in the free world, to quote one of their influences, Neil Young.
Music (Concert)
I saw Built to Spill perform at The Vic the other week and it was a sonic, uplifting experience. These fellows from Boise opened with a song from their next release, "There is No Enemy," (hopefully) due out this fall. Lead singer Doug Martsch played guitar like a man possessed, staring off into space as his fingers moved across the fretboard as if an extension of the instrument. There wasn't much 1997's "Perfect From Now On" or 1993's "Ultimate Alternative Wavers," but there was plenty of 2006's "You in Reverse," 2001's "Ancient Melodies of the Future," 1999's "Keep It Like a Secret" and 1994's "There's Nothing Wrong With Love," including an encore that featured fan-favorite "Car." Though the encore lasted far too long, filled with all kinds of fun with distortion, the show overall was impressive.
Movies (In Theaters)
"The Informant!" is a farcical trip through one man's attempt at helping the FBI as a whistle-blower for the company in which he served as vice president. The driving force of this film isn't the believable range of acting from Matt Damon nor is it the always reliable direction from Steven Soderbergh; the true genius of "The Informant!" is the off-the-wall narrative commentary from its main character. We hear Damon's voice going on and on about God-knows what, often at the most critical points of the movie, and it's hysterical. "The Informant!" is one of the most entertaining movies of the year.
Movies (Now Available to Rent or Buy)
Award-winning director Sam Mendes, more recently known for his work on "Revolutionary Road," directed his first original screenplay since "American Beauty" with "Away We Go," a couple's humorous, romantic search for home. Cleverly written by Dave Eggers and Vendela Vida, "Away We Go" features tremendous chemistry between Maya Rudolph and John Krasinski plus a supporting cast of sometimes outlandish, sometimes profound friends and family. What is so nice about this movie is that everything seems so natural for the couple and they're so incredibly compatible that at one point Rudolph's character complains that they don't get into any fights. And we, as the audience, witness their charming compatibility - and touching discoveries about finding a home - every step of the way. Be there with them for their journey; it is rewarding.
September, and part of the start of October, are all about memoirs. I'm looking particularly forward to reading Craig Ferguson's "American on Purpose," a story of the comedian's start as a jokester, his battle with alcoholism, his success as a late-night talk show host, and his profound reverence for America. This well-rounded review attests that Ferguson is more serious than joking in his book, which is certainly a respectable thing in literature - and, as the review suggests, courageous for a comedian.
Earlier in September, LeBron James released his memoir of playing basketball with his buddies, winning often, and earning accolades. Though this luke-warm review makes "Shooting Stars" sound like nothing more than a recollection of fun times with friends, I'm still interested in reading it.
Finally, the first week of October will feature Paul Shaffer's memoir of music and showbusiness. Shaffer, known as the longtime bandleader for "The Late Show with David Letterman," is a consummate professional when it comes to music. Based on this informed and excited review, "We'll Be Here for the Rest of Our Lives" sounds like an entertaining set of anecdotes about celebrities as well as a celebration and affirmation of being a musician.
I've been listening to Muse since its first release, "Showbiz," and I've always known that these blokes - armed with ominous, operatic undertones and classical skills - would hit it big, but I find Muse's latest release, September's "The Resistance," to be a mess of electronic opera likened to Depeche Mode on steroids spending too much time listening to Queen. Regardless, it's nice to know that Muse has "arrived," as this affirmative interview from Rolling Stone suggests.
Another album released in September that I've given some listens to is Pearl Jam's "Backspacer," debuting at No. 1 on the charts in its first week, the first No. 1 for Pearl Jam since 1996's "No Code." I can't say I love the album, but I know it's better than Pearl Jam's last release, 2006's self-titled attempt at resurrecting the louder and faster sounds of earlier albums. "Backspacer" finds Pearl Jam with an even more familiar sound, something melodious and fast-paced that hearkens back to 1994's "Vitalogy." It's nice that these guys keep on rockin' in the free world, to quote one of their influences, Neil Young.
I saw Built to Spill perform at The Vic the other week and it was a sonic, uplifting experience. These fellows from Boise opened with a song from their next release, "There is No Enemy," (hopefully) due out this fall. Lead singer Doug Martsch played guitar like a man possessed, staring off into space as his fingers moved across the fretboard as if an extension of the instrument. There wasn't much 1997's "Perfect From Now On" or 1993's "Ultimate Alternative Wavers," but there was plenty of 2006's "You in Reverse," 2001's "Ancient Melodies of the Future," 1999's "Keep It Like a Secret" and 1994's "There's Nothing Wrong With Love," including an encore that featured fan-favorite "Car." Though the encore lasted far too long, filled with all kinds of fun with distortion, the show overall was impressive.
"The Informant!" is a farcical trip through one man's attempt at helping the FBI as a whistle-blower for the company in which he served as vice president. The driving force of this film isn't the believable range of acting from Matt Damon nor is it the always reliable direction from Steven Soderbergh; the true genius of "The Informant!" is the off-the-wall narrative commentary from its main character. We hear Damon's voice going on and on about God-knows what, often at the most critical points of the movie, and it's hysterical. "The Informant!" is one of the most entertaining movies of the year.
Award-winning director Sam Mendes, more recently known for his work on "Revolutionary Road," directed his first original screenplay since "American Beauty" with "Away We Go," a couple's humorous, romantic search for home. Cleverly written by Dave Eggers and Vendela Vida, "Away We Go" features tremendous chemistry between Maya Rudolph and John Krasinski plus a supporting cast of sometimes outlandish, sometimes profound friends and family. What is so nice about this movie is that everything seems so natural for the couple and they're so incredibly compatible that at one point Rudolph's character complains that they don't get into any fights. And we, as the audience, witness their charming compatibility - and touching discoveries about finding a home - every step of the way. Be there with them for their journey; it is rewarding.
Labels:
Away We Go,
Built to Spill,
Craig Ferguson,
LeBron James,
Muse,
Paul Shaffer,
Pearl Jam,
The Informant
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Online Memories
Here's an interesting article from TIME Magazine about what to do with the online accounts of the deceased. Apparently, e-mail accounts don't let relatives gain access to the deceased's accounts, but they do put all the files on a CD to provide the relatives with some of the data. Imagine what memories and information relatives could gain from all of this...
Getting Students to Read
I've often wondered about the canon in the American public school system. Who decides what great literature kids should have to read in order to make it far in this life? When I was forced to read some books that I didn't like, I began to harbor resentment for this canon system. Then I read two articles in the New York Times that discuss two different ways of deciding what is read in schools. One uses the Accelerated Reader program which awards points to books based on some curious algorithms. If you read the column by Susan Straight you'll probably be as infuriated as I was. Apparently, all things "Harry Potter" are worth 30-some points and difficult classics like "Heart of Darkness" by Joseph Conrad are worth only 10 points. And students must prove their literary prowess by earning as many points according to the Accelerated Reader system as possible. Ridiculous! Then I read about another method that is a bit more appealing called Reading Workshop in which students get to pick the books they read for class. I think that's a great idea, especially if the teacher confers with the students about their decisions. For instance, if a student says they want to read the "Twilight" series, perhaps the teacher could suggest that they also consider some macabre writing by Bram Stoker or Mary Shelley. It will be interesting to see what other ways the school system decides to encourage reading.
Insanity's Cure: Poetics
There is a world
within your world
and it keeps me
too far away
from you.
A World Apart
We could tell he was dead
because the tears from his eyes
were as cold as the snow falling
from the grayest of skies.
Before I Wake
How to Cure Insanity:
1. Meditate
2. Listen to your lover's heart beat
3. Dream regularly
What I Do This For
If you were God,
you wouldn't listen
to any prayers.
The Unthinkable
I'd rather watch myself go blind
or hear myself stop speaking
than go through with another
lonely life.
Solitude
within your world
and it keeps me
too far away
from you.
We could tell he was dead
because the tears from his eyes
were as cold as the snow falling
from the grayest of skies.
How to Cure Insanity:
1. Meditate
2. Listen to your lover's heart beat
3. Dream regularly
If you were God,
you wouldn't listen
to any prayers.
I'd rather watch myself go blind
or hear myself stop speaking
than go through with another
lonely life.
The Psychology of War
It was recently reported that the U.S. Army plans on moving forward with a "mental stress training program" with the goals of curbing suicides and any psychological disorders resulting from active duty. At first, this may seem like something that could soften the soldiers and make them less battle-ready, but I think in the long-term it could be really successful. However, dealing with war is never easy - watching death and destruction is not good for the psyche. How does a psychologist even go about treating someone who has been through war?
You're not a sinner; you're a human being
Discover Magazine had an interesting article recently about the seven deadly sins and how science interprets them. Apparently, we're all actually biologically hardwired to commit many of these sins. I'm not surprised - being wicked feels good. But, in the final conclusion of the article, scientific findings suggest that being "good" is even more rewarding than being "bad" as doing good deeds has been proven to increase certain rewarding neural impulses in the brain. So, scientifically speaking, it's logical that good triumphs over evil.
Outlier
Early reports indicate that the man's brain functions differently from the average human being. His glial cells do more than enliven neurons; they actually contain and process information, making this man the smartest and most highly functioning person on the planet. He was taken to the hospital last night after a car hit him. When tests were performed, it was discovered that his brain activity was extremely irregular. Recognizing this odd situation as potentially groundbreaking, the treating doctor called in an expert who deciphered the brain activity and determined that the so-called "dark matter" of the brain was acting more like neurons on steroids. So, what's the smartest man in the world doing? He was struck by the car while chasing after the cup of coins he dropped. Apparently, the smartest man in the world is homeless.
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