Mar. 18th, 2017

monk222: (Default)
LOL D. F. Wallace flays Updike's novel "Toward the End of Time". However, I hope Updike didn't take it badly, because it actually succeeded in arousing my interest. Mostly, I am struck anew by the idea that Wallace is showing his overly puritanical side, his self-righteous aversion to raw sexual appetite and life's simple bestiality. Although it might seem like a grossly cheap shot, one cannot help suspecting if this also reveals his suicidal nature, as he might have been a little too aloof from the animality of life.

"Says the person who is deeply into rape-pornography!"

LOL Yeah, I don't suffer from that sort of aloofness. He probably wouldn't be too sympathetic to that interest. And he probably never would have comprehended chikan porn and the emotional needs it serves. He was perhaps too good for this world in general.

Dream

Mar. 18th, 2017 08:45 am
monk222: (Default)
A peculiar dream?

"Are there any other kind?"

Probably not so I'd remember. I got caught in the cross-hairs of the next-door neighbor again.

"About that dog again? Stealing his affections?"

The dog was a factor, but he wasn't even the main issue. It actually started when I was watering our back yard. I was by the fence, and I noticed that the neighbor's tree roots were bone dry, sticking out of the ground. I decided to water them, and I somehow ended up in their yard doing a more extensive watering, and that's when the wife or matron came out angrily and accosted me as I tried to hastily make it back to my side of the fence.

"You didn't make it, did you?"

No, but something more wondrous strange occurred. My mother came out of the house. She took a seat on the ground, in our yard, in a lotus position, to oversee what was happening. She was her younger self, thin, and very alert. She was my protector.

"Oooh, a battle of the house matrons! I like it. So, what happened with the neighbor?"

We, too, sat on the ground facing each other, in her yard. Then - and here is an odd and striking turn - she started accusing me of being dirty-minded. I was taken aback, feeling hurt, and I was confused: was this because I was friendly toward their dog? I didn't understand.

"Did your mother step in?"

No. That was where the dream ended. It was later when I considered that my dream-conscience mixed in my porn issues with my neighbor-dog issues.

"What do you make of that?"

I haven't been able to come up with anything. Mostly, what I think makes the dream interesting, is the surprising appearance of my mother. She looked good. And she had my back. That was not so true toward the end of her life.

I think she had given up on me. And who could blame her? I had given up on myself, after all.
monk222: (Default)
I didn't think I'd be giving "The Hand of God" another shot. I felt so cheated with the way they closed out their opening season. It's as though they had a lot of good elements going into the story, but they couldn't figure out a way to bring it together and then resolve it in a satisfying way, and it's, like, they just said 'fuck it!' and quickly wrapped things up. One feels cheated.

I am surprised they got a second season. I had vowed, if they did, I wouldn't be sticking around for it. However, it's back! And I am as desperate as ever for good television. And I am enjoying it, just as I was enjoying the first season. Ron Perlman and Dana Delany are compelling, as are the scenes. The music is damn good, too.

Nevertheless, I suspect I am going to be let down again. Googling the show, I see they have already been denied a third season. So, that's not encouraging. But I don't have much else going TV-wise, and so I am going to take in what they have, wherever it leads. I expect the last show will suck, as they just quickly wrap up all their plot threads and call it a day.

I am just sorry that it looks like they have cleaned up the sexuality. They teased us into the show with some pretty hot stuff in the first season, especially the first shows. Now they are back to feminist standards, which only makes things that much more dull.
monk222: (Default)
Man, D. F. Wallace's essay on Kafka's funniness sealed the deal with me. I'm going to have to love Wallace forever. Maybe not so much as to try to read his novels. But I am now an official member of the fan club.
monk222: (Default)
A silent clock. For the kitchen. None of that tick-tocking. The old one was breaking down, and I showed Pop, through Amazon, how they have silent clocks. He didn't believe it, but at least he gave it a shot and looked for one, and now he knows they really do exist.

It makes a life a little sweeter. Now if only he could be moved to get another silent clock for the office. However, Paulo gave him that one, and he might feel it has some sentimental value. Gifts from friends must be nice.
monk222: (Default)
Pop came to the big room to inform me that Chuck Berry died today. At 90. I'm surprised that Pop would feel that. I'm guessing, in his youth, Pop perhaps listened to more of that new rock & roll music than one would guess from his listening habits today. Along with Elvis's "Teddy Bear", of course.

"Imagine what he was like as a teenager, say, sixteen! Wouldn't that be interesting?"

Hmph, I don't know if I'd want to go there.

At least he didn't have a messed up face. But I'm sure it wasn't happiness in good old Shiner, Texas.

"And where is happiness? pray tell!"

Just saying. It's late.

"Goodnight, John Boy."

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