Having gotten married and having moved all our worldly possessions to one flammable location, and placed them under the protection of a pair of fire-breathing slavering beasts and a gang of meth-addled bikers, Diana and I flew off to Italy for a few weeks of workingvacationmoon.
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THE SIXTEEN STAGES OF MOVING 1. I want to move. 2. I hate to move. 3. I ought to move. 4. I hate to move. 5. I have to move. 6. Find a place to move to. 7. I will pack up my things. Tomorrow, sometime. Or the day after. 8. Oh. I move tomorrow. I guess it’s time to pack. 9. So. Many. . . . → Read More: Moved to be moody, and moody to be moved
It seems crazy to give a spoiler alert about movies a couple generations old, so I’ll cut to the chase. Both stories end with the main character, a woman, happily at home in the heart of her family, and in an extended and supportive community. In other words, these are nightmares.
My bathetic reactions after the jump. “All citizens take notice that Carnival is decreed for tonight. Turn back the clock. There will be music, dancing, happiness at the Carnival. . . . → Read More: A Proclamation Starting the middle of the academic year at the beginning of the calendar year always seems weird to me. But weird isn’t bad, so I’m getting ready to (as Horace and Ellison recommend) “begin in the middle and later learn the beginning. The end will take care . . . → Read More: In Medias Res… Breaking radio silence here so that I can wish a merry Christmas to those who celebrate it–and a happy weekend . . . → Read More: Gaude! Gaude! The Nobel Prize Committee passed over me and Bob Dylan again, in spite of my tireless efforts on behalf of American sword-and-sorcery and whatever it is that Dylan does. I called him up to commiserate. I said, “This is starting to look like a cultural bias against Minnesota expatriates! The Nobel committee has some explaining to . . . → Read More: What a Nobel Mind is Here O’erthrown… Went down to the Black Swamp Arts Festival. Going to see my baby there. Actually, I went down there with her: so sweet, so warm, so fair. We saw/heard these guys there, among others: Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears. They were great. Ten years ago today I was teaching a Latin class when the news came in about the terrorist . . . → Read More: James Enge Decennial Blues … was a blast. That’s what it’s for, I guess. |
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As fate and my innamorata would have it, I watched (within the space of a few days) two movies based on old Ira Levin novels: 
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