Friday, November 28, 2008

Desert Island Book List



I'm going to start putting up a novel (or maybe even a movie) that would make it onto my desert island. That I'd need to have on that desolate island. And why it deserves to be read (watched) and re-read (re-watched). And why I think I might be happy sipping umbrella drinks (it's not that desolate) from a straw on a white sand beach with a very good book, and a fire I could make at night. No need for a rescue party. No need to be saved. Just some good art to re-visit, please.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

More soup, less French fries, sometimes.

i wish i could throw out my TV sometimes. sometimes. not that i can live without out. i am not that strong. like the smell of mcds french fries, one whiff and i go weak. i know that soon i will give in, give it a day or three, could be a week but i will give in and purchase those golden golden fries of the deep red box, that try as i might i eventually return to the habit of coming home tired to flop myself down and flick on that dumb show. worse, i'll have no show to watch. it'll just be flip, flip, flip. i dont do it for hours on end like when i was a teenager, but i still do it.

why is it so hard to understand? fat food makes you fat. dumb-ass TV makes you dumb. but then i get a cold or something and i just have to have what to watch. like i couldn't survive without it. this if full exposure. like being buck-naked. and for those pointing and sneering at my naked bum, please, don't be so harsh. for one, mine is not so bad a bum. for two, maybe you no longer have cable, or even threw out your TV, or never even bought one. that's good for you. seriously. but the three hours of youtube you watched last night, she is TV too, you know.

but is this isn't a blame game. i watch youtube/TV, whatever you want to call it. i just wish i did it less. and i don't even do it so often any more. but why can't i remember, that coming home, to sit in my living room and just listen to a good cd, or read a magazine, or, heaven help me, a novel, to sit with a novel and sip some tea, some wine, some scotch, even, any sipping drink, any drink that requires the slow of sip and peace of mind, that that always sits so much better, that ultimately that relaxes so much more truly. and actually fills me up with something nourishing, hearty, soup-like.

rant done. over and out.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

the movies

i love going to the movies. love love love going to the movies. the theatre, i mean. where there is no pause button, no bathroom, telephone ringing, mom's calling excuse to stop the film middway and ruin the dream. the great blackness that equalizes and anyonymtizes a crowd of people. the darkness that makes us go hush and sh. that everyone agrees (most everyone, anyway) to shut up for a while, to turn off our phones and just listen. hear a tale. that the old fireside storytelling genes, that they're alive and well, and that even if most adult men have some pathetic aversion to fiction reading (i think they are convinced it is all harry potter children's nonsense, or romance stories for women - i think they have never read ernest hemingway, raymond chandler, cormac mccarthy, rawi hage and a hundred other men writing for men about men) at least we can agree on listening to a story told on a big curved screen in a deep dark theatre, the sound so loud, the excitement as the hollywood studio song comes on, then the real intensity as the film proper begins and the score comes in, or a pop song, or no song at all. just. silence. whatever it is. however it starts. always, at that very beginning. promise. i pay $12 for that. every time.
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