Friend Connie and I recall going to see our first Rohmer film many years ago, My Night At Maud’s, and feeling like convent school dinosaurs. Although we are not Catholic, some of our eclectic education was at the hands of old school, old world nuns in the days of the Latin Mass, and the arcane theological debates in the film seemed commonplace to us.
Posted in Eric Rohmer
In no particular order, you name it, if it’s progressive Scott Brown has spoken or voted against it: filed legislation to allow hospitals to refuse emergency contraception in rape cases; says Wall St. and bank bonuses are legit; indicated on CNN Obama’s mother was not married; voted against funding mammograms for the uninsured; against same sex marriage, of course; claims he knows little about tea partiers although he has spoken at a number of their rallies; doubts there is any human influence on global warming; defends water boarding; has pledged to vote against any congressional health care plan, supports Israeli settlements. . . He’s solidly far right, but also not very bright so he’s a real follower. As a personality he can be really mean-spirited as well. His campaign has been a fascinating example of the power of hate-mongering media. All the little Rush-lings on the many talk stations hereabouts have been whipping their listeners and callers into an anti-Obama, anti-Kennedy legacy frenzy on Brown’s behalf. And it has worked. Coakley is solid, but bland as a personality. Brown is clearly dim but quite photogenic. Rough days.
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Candidate Brown criticized Coakley for speaking at MLK Breakfast calling it a political gesture. Smooth move for a ruthless hypocrite who would never accept such an invitation because he and his followers want nothing to do with King and his beliefs.
Posted in Massachusetts politics
Much of the American political right is now populated with mediocre minds who subscribe to the “When in trouble, when in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout” school of civic philosophy.
On health care, for example, these small minded office holders simply do not have a grasp of the practical solutions long since in place in every other industrialized nation. The irony is that big pharma and their lobbyists are in fact global and much more sophisticated – – so they can simply sit back and make fools of our parochial elected officials while lining their own pockets.
The really dangerous part is that these elected numbskulls know they are all surface and no depth, and when they are forced to interact with a few minds of some genuine distinction their impulse/strategy is to sabotage rather than to creatively engage such opportunities. Hence the rise of the teabaggers and those calling for Obama’s Waterloo, etc. (I also happen to believe that racism is a more deeply embedded and potent psychosis in this country than will ever be admitted, even as it keeps bursting forth in endless gaffes that no one in the public sphere really knows how to handle.)
We focus on the half-baked Alaskan (splendid phrase from blogger Leon Sterling) for the jackass she is, but we do not denounce the Republicans, given their candidate’s age and health, for the lunacy of attempting to place her a heartbeat away from the presidency.
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White House 2009 Christmas Card
Of asphodel, that greeny flower,
I come, my sweet,
to sing to you!
My heart rouses
thinking to bring you news
of something
that concerns you
and concerns many men. Look at
what passes for the new.
You will not find it there but in
despised poems.
It is difficult
to get the news from poems
yet men die miserably every day
for lack
of what is found there.
-William Carlos Williams
(Passage from a longer poem)
Posted in William Carlos Williams
A charming little poem, nostalgic, resonant. The purple ink stain feels like a bit of time travel.
Un Enfant Veut Répondre
Un enfant veut répondre
Il a levé le doigt
Dans une vieille école
Qui n’existe plus.
La neige a fondu sous les bancs
Il fait chaud comme à l’écurie
Et l’instituteur
A souligné tous les verbes à la craie bleue.
L’enfant qui veut répondre
Fait claquer ses doigts
Tachés d’encre violette
Dans la vieille école
Qui n’existe plus.
– Paul Vincensini
And an 1870 New Year’s Day Scene
Posted in writers
VARIETY . SPICE . LIFE 