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READIN

Jeremy's journal

The bastards that destroy our lives are sometimes just ourselves.

Robyn Hitchcock


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Wednesday, December 5th, 2007

🦋 Awesome

Hat tip: my dad.

...Looks like it's a hoax. Oh well...

posted evening of December 5th, 2007: Respond

🦋 The New Look

What do you think? More readable or less? Pretty or ugly? Let me know. (Elements of the new look: colors and borders, varying font sizes and styles, dingbats. Everything sort of gradually being moved over from element attributes to style sheets.) Feedback please.

posted evening of December 5th, 2007: 4 responses
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🦋 SOM Mural Project

Ellen is part of a group organizing a murals workshop for kids in South Orange and Maplewood -- their blog started up today.

posted afternoon of December 5th, 2007: Respond
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Tuesday, December 4th, 2007

🦋 Gigging

If you're around Maplewood next Friday, the 14th, and would like to hear me playing guitar and fiddle behind Hannah Reimann, come to the bar formerly known as Here's to the Arts at 97 Baker St. (That's still the name painted in the window, but they have taken their sign down and I think there is a name change in the works) at 8 pm. I'm so excited! An actual gig!

posted evening of December 4th, 2007: Respond
➳ More posts about Fiddling

🦋 2007: A Year in Reading

The Millions is publishing a series of posts by various notables recommending books they have enjoyed this year, under the heading 2007: A Year in Reading. Go check it out, lots of interesting stuff. (hat tip to LanguageHat, whose post is the first in the series.)

For my own part, my recommendation for 2007 is Pamuk -- I first delved into Snow in July and his books have been very much on my mind ever since. He captures, with as much clarity as I have ever seen, the world I live in -- though his novels are set in locations geographically, culturally, and temporally removed from my own.

Heartfelt thanks to Dr. Snarkout, for introducing me to Pamuk's work.

(My other big discoveries of 2007 are not reading-related: Robyn Hitchcock and Pedro Almodóvar.)

posted morning of December 4th, 2007: Respond
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Monday, December third, 2007

🦋 Great Cinema

My brother asks in e-mail, "Really, did you actually love 'Aguirre, etc.' or did you just understand that it's a Great Film?" by way of saying that he understood it to be Great Film but did not find anything to enjoy in the film itself. This is interesting to me because (a) I did actually, authentically enjoy this film and (b) I worry, when I am liking something that I know is Great, about whether my enjoyment is real.

In "On Reading: Words or Images", Pamuk says,

When we notice [our surroundings while reading], we are at the same time savoring our solitude and the workings of our imagination and congratulating ourselves on possessing greater depth than those who do not read. I understand how a reader might, without going too far, wish to congratulate himself, though I have little patience for those who take pride in boasting.

So that is the worry when I tell myself I loved Aguirre, the Wrath of God or My Name Is Red or whatever -- how do I distinguish between the externally-directed pleasure of fancying myself a connoisseur of fine film or literature, and the internal, actual pleasure of understanding and appreciating the work in question? I have an unexamined prejudice that the former pleasure is in bad faith, is boastful and something to be ashamed of.

Herzog's (and Kinski's) genius is certainly front and center in Aguirre -- it seems to me like it would be difficult to watch the movie without having the thought that it is the work of a genius, that it is Great Film. But, I'm not quite sure how to put this, the movie itself is so powerful and moving, the second-hand attributes of the movie are not primary in my mind while I'm watching it.

posted evening of December third, 2007: Respond
➳ More posts about Other Colors

... I said to myself: the young traveler was so determined to find the unknown realm, he let himself be transported without respite on roads that would take him to the threshold.

With this line, at the end of the third chapter, I feel like I am starting to get a handle on The New Life -- that it is the narrative this character has conjured up for himself to distance himself from disappointment and lack of fulfilment in his own life.

This book seems to me like it would make a great movie -- there is a definite cinematic feeling to some of the descriptive passages.* But I guess in the adaptation, the book which leads the main character to intimations of a new reality would need to be changed to a movie on videocassette or some such.

*What I mean to say is, I think the narration fetishizes visual impressions -- like for instance, the narrator describes the experience of reading the book several times in terms of light pouring out of the book. (Another argument for using a videotape instead of a book?) I often get the impression that the only connection between the world in his head and the world outside his head, is the portal of his eyes.

posted evening of December third, 2007: Respond
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🦋 Something I did not realize

Riff Raff is the author of the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

posted afternoon of December third, 2007: Respond
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Sunday, December second, 2007

🦋 New Dingbats

These are a lot closer to what I was looking for. Still not quite 100% but they will do for now.

posted evening of December second, 2007: Respond
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Saturday, December first, 2007

🦋 Focus

When I am watching Aguirre, the Wrath of God I notice that I am not thinking at all about what might be going on off-camera -- the focus is so sharply on whichever characters are on screen at any moment, they are obviously the most important thing in the movie.

posted evening of December first, 2007: Respond
➳ More posts about Aguirre, the Wrath of God

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