In Which I Continue My Last Train of Thought

It would appear that I spoke too soon last time.  Who should show up, two chapters later, than "[a] fat man in sky-blue pants […] He was a large man and wide.  Not young nor handsome, but he looked durable."

Yep, that would be about right.  Wait, what's this?  The novel also mentions "He wasn't alone […]"  Well, who could that be?

"Age about twenty-five, five feet nine, thin as a broom straw."

Hrm.  Not much help.  How about his dialog and actions?  Well, it consists almost solely of "Screw you" and "In a pig's valise," and he promptly pulls a gun.  Well, that certainly makes it easier: the fat man's brought along Wilmer.

(Oddly enough, one source I read (now lost) claims that Joseph P. Toad and Alfred were in fact meant as parodies/tributes to Kasper Gutman and his two-bit gunsel, Wilmer.  Although, for the most part, Toad's demeanor doesn't come close to Gutman's, it would make sense, especially if it was the Greenstreet/Cook versions of the characters.  After all, the novel's plot revolves around Hollywood, and is peopled with characters that are quite likely based off of people and characters that Chandler would have heard about during his time as a screenwriter.

"I suppose you realize we're just a couple of bit players, Mr. Marlowe," says Toad in his last line in the chapter — just before he walks off set never to be heard from again.  How strangely, and one can't help but think (likely) deliberately, appropriate.)

And I promise: this is that last entry on this for a while.

Handwrought Dueling Pistols, Curare, and Tropical Fish

Among the guilty pleasures I'll admit to, one of them is liking pulps.  Specifically, I prefer the weird tale (Lovecraft, Smith, &c.), but other things will do as well.  The more prominent among the "other things" being hard-boiled detective tales (the type of stuff that wouldn't have been out of place in Black Mask during the 30s and 40s).

To get this story moving to its pointless conclusion: I went and rolled all my pennies the other day, and found I had a few dollars worth.  What to do with them?  Why, head on down to Owl's Nest and buy me some "quality" used books, of course.

Specifically, I bought The Insidious Dr. Fu Manchu (because, let's face it, it doesn't get much pulpier than Sax Rohmer), and Raymond Chandler's The Little Sister (since I didn't have a copy, and the local Chapters tends to limit their classic hard-boiled stuff to the occasional copy of Dashiell Hammett's The Maltese Falcon).  Anyways, I've been reading that since yesterday night, and I just realised something which amused me immensely: I internally dramatise the dialog in these novels using actors from Humphrey Bogart movies.

Now, normally I probably wouldn't have noticed.  After all, Bogey played Marlowe, the protagonist of all of Chandler's novels, in The Big Sleep, so he's not completely out of place.  However, I seem to be drawing most of my actors from a different Bogey film — the aforementioned Maltese Falcon.  It gave me a bit of a start and a chuckle to realise this after a "slim, dark-eyed man […] lighting a cigarette" appears in the story, and I suddenly noticed that I was reading all his lines as if it was none-other than Joel Cairo.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) no one answering to the description of the other half of Sidney and Pete has shown up yet.

In Search of the Mad One Who Capitalized His Name

I'll admit it: I don't get much personal mail.  In fact, I'm not sure when the last time I had something in the mailbox that wasn't a bill, junk, or banking information was.  As such, I tend not to check my mail that much, and just toss out the junk without reading it.

Today, however, was different.

Today, for some reason, I decided to check my mail despite having done so yesterday.  There wasn't much: a bill, and a random junk card of some sort.  I would have just tossed it, but the card caught my eye; on the front of it was a big, fairly nondescript painting of post-crucifixion Aryan Jesus emerging from the tomb.

"Hrmm," I think, "It would appear that the missionaries are out in force."

Rather than searching for a large pot to boil them in if they came round again, I happened to flip the card over.  A smaller version of the front picture, and stuff about faith in Christ, free video, &c., &c.  Nothing exciting, but whilst looking at it I happen to spot a bunch of them laid out on the ledge next to the mailbox, and they had different images on the front: so-happy-they're-creepy-looking family, building at night, and bunch of people shielding their faces from a human silhouette floating in the sky surrounded by extra majesty.

"Well," I say, "They have different stuff on the front, so maybe they have different stuff on the back."  So, I go and take a look.

The creepy family just has stuff about loving families and a free video.  The building's just text about "What is the purpose of life?" and so forth.  The floating majesty dude though, oh, that one's the keeper.

Now, I should explain a bit: I'm not a huge fan of religion.  It's never done anything for me, and we've since worked out an agreement: I keep my distance from it (mostly), and it keeps its distance from me (mostly).  However, there are two religions that I do have a particular love for.  One involves people who believe in an alien warlord held prisoner in a cage powered by an eternal battery (bwha?), and basically reads like something created by a bad sci-fi author.  (Huh.  Now why might that be?)  The other involves people who believe in an angel with the terribly unfortunate name of Moroni.

I flip the card over, and I find out that it's the latter.

"The Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ," it exclaims in big bold letters.  I chuckle slightly, and then notice the print below the picture of the book: "Please accept a free copy as our gift.  Call 888-537-2200"

It's kind of a poor way to end this entry, but all I have to say is that I wish I had a PO box to have a copy sent to.  (Hey, I don't exactly want more unsolicited mail from Mormons.)  I certainly could use a good laugh.

Hulk Smashed!

Holy vandals, Atlas Man: sculpture smashed to smithereens

A superhero statue on display in downtown Fredericton proved no match for vandals who smashed it into the ground this weekend.

Prince Edward Island artist Gerald Beaulieu spent weeks building the larger-than-life figure, a wood-based, clay-covered muscular man that resembles the '70s superhero Incredible Hulk.

Called Atlas Man, the statue appeared to be holding up the side of the New Brunswick College of Craft and Design in the city's historic Garrison District.

I didn't get to see the sculpture once it was completed, but it was being worked on the last time I was downtown.  I personally thought it looked more like the Thing than the Hulk, but it's still disappointing.  Then again, that is right in the middle of the drunken idiot zone, so it's not a complete surprise.

I may have to wander down sometime this week and see the rest of the exhibit though.

Random Recipe

I made some spice-coated potatoes and dipping sauce the other night and, having modified the dipping sauce recipe a bit, I've discovered that it makes a fairly good (albeit slightly runny) pasta sauce.  It is as follows:

• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 1 small onion, finely chopped
• 1 garlic clove, crushed
• 14 fl-oz. canned diced tomatoes (with juice)
• 2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
• 2 fresh red chile peppers, seeded and thinly sliced
• 2 tbsp cilantro, chopped
• Salt and freshly ground pepper

Heat the oil in a saucepan, and add the onion and garlic.  Cook for 5-10 minutes, or until soft and golden.

Add the tomatoes, chile, and vinegar.  Cook over med. heat for approx. 10 minutes.  Season with salt and pepper, and add the cilantro.

The only downside?  My fingers still smell like garlic from that clove.

Posted by g026r at 11:56 | 2 comments | Most recent by g026r

What the Hell?

I just found out that apparently the Residents gave an interview at MuchMusic back in the 80s.  Undoubtedly the strangest thing I've seen yet today.  (Ok, actually suspected-Resident and Cryptic Corporation member Homer Flynn gives the interview, while Mr. Skull and the three Eyes run rampant through the studio.)

Thanks to the wonders of the Internet, you can watch the weirdness online.  I can't help but wonder whether they'd even be able to get within 50 metres of the MuchMusic building nowadays.

Caesar, 'tis Strucken Eight.

Boing Boing just recently put up a post about a collection of photos allegedly depicting rural Soviet life during the 50s and 60s.

Now, the photos themselves are interesting, but as for the date attributed, I say allegedly as there doesn't appear to be any date given in the linked to article once I pass it through the fish — but that could just be that it's been babelfucked out of existence.

Actually, I lie; that's not the reason I say allegedly.  The reason I say allegedly is one particular photo, and amusingly enough, it's the one that Doctorow chose to include in his blurb.

It shows an old man in front of some sort of display, typing away on a keyboard of some sort.  More specifically, it shows an old man in front of what looks suspiciously like a computer monitor (sitting next to what looks suspiciously like a personal computer tower) typing away on what looks even more suspiciously like a standard pre-Windows 95 102-key keyboard.  (You can even make out the start of the area for the various lock lights at the bottom of the photo.)

Furthermore, I'd be willing to bet money that a more in-focus shot of the monitor would show that the text on the top says "Low Radiation" and I'm almost positive that there appears to be a GUI visible in the monitor (although that may just be a reflection of light from somewhere else).

On the other hand, maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe that isn't a personal computer, but some other period device.  However, in my opinion that's probably just as likely as Brutus having actually counted how many times the clock stuck.

Anyone want to make a guess as to whether or not this gets noticed by anyone else and pointed out to Doctorow, and if so how long it takes?

Posted by g026r at 23:12 | 3 comments | Most recent by g026r

Whoever Has That Stamp On His Hand Is Insane

Have you heard of California vs. Susan Polk?  Really, I'm not too concerned about California here, Ms. Polk is the interesting one.  A summary of the background:

Susan Polk was married to Felix Polk, a psychiatrist, and was in the midst of a rather nasty divorce battle.  Then, Felix Polk's body was found next to their pool with 27 stab wounds in it.

What's known for certain: Felix Polk was stabbed by Susan Polk.  Neither side denies this.  However, the prosecution claims that it was unprovoked, whilst the defence claims that the relationship was abusive, and Susan Polk stabbed her estranged husband only after he attacked her.  Nothing unusual here, except for one thing: the defence lawyer is Susan Polk herself, and she's completely utterly bat-shit insane.

To sum up her side of it: she's psychic, and her husband (who she claims was a deep-cover Mossad agent) was drugging her into trances to obtain her predictions.  Among the things she predicted: the attacks on the World Trade Centre and the Pentagon, and the death of Princess Di.  And the trial?  A conspiracy to rob her of her inheritance.  The cops, the judge, the prosecutor, two of her sons — they're all in on it.  In fact, probably the only person (beside herself) who doesn't appear to be in on it is one of her three sons, and as a result of not going along with the conspiracy he's been charged (and convicted) of domestic assault.

Unfortunately, the trial itself has ended, meaning there're no more daily doses of the crazy, but the jury still hasn't reached its verdict.  I'm going with a result of guilty, not because I truly think she is, but because the jury has had to put up with three months of pointless and wandering testimony on her part, which likely both antagonised them and made the prosecution's case look that much tighter.  (Part of her line of questioning with one of her sons involved who was now taking care of the family dog.  Why?  Because she wanted to know how the dog was doing.)

If you want to enjoy doses of the crazy, CourtTV has an entire section of their site devoted to her.  You can browse through the archives and find out that she mentioned that she does believe in fairies in her opening argument (no word on if hand-clapping was involved), that she once objected because "the judge was making faces", that she claims to have never accused her former lawyer of being behind the murder of his wife (despite media records that quote her directly), and other oddities.  (At one point, she averaged one objection every 30 minutes for several hours straight, and that's not counting the motions for a mistrial.)

Oddly enough, I think if she really wanted to she probably could get in a valid motion for a mistrial.  However, it's unlikely to happen, as I personally think that her best chance of that is by claiming that the judge should never have declared her mentally fit to defend herself.  (She is, quite obviously and regardless of all else, delusional.  Either that, or my conspiracy membership card got lost in the mail, as I seem to be the only person not in on it.)  Of course, since that would involve admitting that her worldview might be slightly less than firmly grounded in reality, don't expect this to happen in the least; one thing that comes out of her actions is her infallible belief in the fact that she's right.

The People Fought the Leader and Up He Flew

If you ever want to see anyone reading too much into something, then I suggest checking out the National Review's Top 50 Conservative Rock Songs.

For example: Led Zeppelin's Battle of Evermore?  It contains the line "the tyrant's face is red" therefore it must be about the Cold War.  And folks, almost the entire list is like this.  The Kinks's "gotta be wearing the latest clothing"-ode Dedicated Follower of Fashion?  Gotta be about liberals.  Iron Maiden's Rime of the Ancient Mariner?  Well, it's inspired by a literary classic, therefore it must be conservative.  (Is there something about the poem that I'm missing?  Edit: Re-read the poem.  I had forgotten about the very end of it.  Their reasoning is poorly stated though.))

That's not to say that there aren't songs on the list that qualify, but some of the choices are just beyond of confusing.

I mean, among others we've got the the Dead Kennedys (wha?) and the Clash (for no apparent reason other than that Rock the Casbah was deemed "too provocative" after Sept. 11, 2001).  Yes, the second is same band who named an album after Marxist rebels (Sandinista!), wrote a song called I'm So Bored with the USA ("Yankee dollar talk to the dictators of the world"), and wore Red Guard armbands.

Yeah, I'm confused as you are by it.

(On another note, I also suggest that the author should check out the album version of the Beatles's Revolution.  "Count me out," the reason for making the list, is only in the single version.  The album version includes both "Count me out" and "Count me in" resulting in something sounding like "Count me out... in.")

With ||||¦¦ Comes Great Responsibility

I think it's time for a change of profession.  Something more exciting.  More interesting.  Something that lets me speak in a jumble of confused riddles.  (As if tech-talk wasn't incomprehensible enough to people without the background.)  In fact, I believe I shall become a bibliomancer.

bibliomancy, noun:
Prediction of the future by the use of books.

Origin: From Greek biblion (book) + manteia (divination)

First off: selection of the proper book.  Sacred texts (such as the Bible) are generally prefered, but I'm a bit low on sacred texts at the moment (and I don't think AD&D Deities & Demigods counts).  Barring this, poetry is also popular.  It was supposedly not uncommon for The Aeneid to be used during the latter part of the Roman Empire, as well as the parts of the Middle Ages, and The Illiad was supposedly sometimes consulted as well.

So, book selection:  a quick scan of the library for appropriate works shows me that I have the first two parts of The Divine Comedy (so Inferno and Purgatorio), Beowulf (with Old English text provided.  Getcher answer in Anglo-Saxon!), Paradise Lost, The Aeneid, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Chanson de Roland, and Shakespeare.

There're also a few poems kicking around in other works, but I doubt that anything good could be divined by consulting Lovecraft or Clark Ashton Smith.  (Besides, then I might run the risk of having to re-read Lovecraft's poetry; that's a hazardous work environment if there ever was one.)

So: book of choice?  Shakespeare, as it's the longest of the lot.  I am open to using other texts instead.

Next, the method of selecting the passage: the simplest method is to place the book on its spine and let it fall open to a given page.  Then, with eyes closed, you place your finger on the page and read the indicated passage (the last after opening your eyes, of course).  There are, of course, problems with this.  Namely, favourite passages are more likely to be selected due to wear to the spine.  Plus, paperbacks don't stay on their backs very well.

Other forms use some sort of random generator to choose the desired passage.  The I Ching, which traditionally uses the tossing of yarrow stalks or coins to choose one of its 64 passages, is a perfect example of this.

Random number generation is simple enough in the age of computers.  There are (not counting the appendix and glossary) 1396 pages in my Shakespeare.  Generate a number from 1 - 1396 (inclusive) and bam!—there's the desired page.

Now, choosing the passage becomes trickier.  Doing the I Ching thing and generating the exact reference to the desired passage is a bit much, given the sheer number of passages in Shakespeare.  So we're falling back to the old ways, and are just going to use the "close your eyes and take a stab in the dark" method.

Now, ask away, and I shall consult for you.  Also, feel free to request a different book than Shakespeare.  If you really want a laugh, I'll even use Philip K. Dick's The Man in the High Castle, which (rumour has it) was written using the I Ching.  Yes!  Seek direction in your life by consulting a book that was written by consulting another book for direction!  It's like a game of divination telephone.

(No, I'm not serious about this.  The idea of bibliomancy merely amuses me.  That doesn't mean I won't use Shakespeare to answer your questions though.  And before someone spoils the joke: yes, I know that the passage associated with ||||¦¦ (or ䷡ if your font supports it—mine doesn't) is normally translated as "the power of the great", but I have also seen it as "great power".)