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Marcello Mastroianni
Oct. 26th, 2012 08:00 am
I don’t understand why these Americans have to suffer so much to identify with their characters. Me, I just get up there and act. It’s great fun. There’s no suffering in it.
-- Marcello Mastroianni
Oct. 26th, 2012
I don’t understand why these Americans have to suffer so much to identify with their characters. Me, I just get up there and act. It’s great fun. There’s no suffering in it.
-- Marcello Mastroianni
Marcello Mastroianni
Oct. 26th, 2012 08:00 amI don’t understand why these Americans have to suffer so much to identify with their characters. Me, I just get up there and act. It’s great fun. There’s no suffering in it.
-- Marcello Mastroianni
I don’t suppose it can come as much of a shock to learn that the leader of the Chinese government has billions stashed away with his family. What is power for, right? Next you will be telling me that he has nasty, deviant sex with innumerable young women and girls. The shock, the shock! The Times has the details if you want them, though.
I don’t suppose it can come as much of a shock to learn that the leader of the Chinese government has billions stashed away with his family. What is power for, right? Next you will be telling me that he has nasty, deviant sex with innumerable young women and girls. The shock, the shock! The Times has the details if you want them, though.
Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor
Oct. 26th, 2012 11:22 amSo many lurid and appalling books have been written about Burton and Taylor that it’s hard to see them plain. “The Richard Burton Diaries” is, however, true to why tabloid writers flocked to them: It’s a love story so robust you can nearly warm your hands on its flames.
Taylor is in her late 30s in most of these entries; he is in his mid-40s. “E is my only ism,” Burton writes. “Elizabethism.” While she was away, he noted, “I miss her like food.” He calls Taylor “an eternal one-night stand” and “beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.” He declares, “She is a prospectus that can never be entirely cataloged, an almanac for Poor Richard.”
-- Dwight Garner at The New York Times
At first I was excited about this new book, but looking through the excerpts at Amazon, I am reminded that if you have any literay ambitions for your journal, you really do have to put in a little time and oomph into it and give the reader a little something to ride on. On the other hand, if you are famous like Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, you will still find readers eager to turn the pages, and although I was never a fan of these two, I am not entirely cold on the prospect of reading these diaries, but it is on my 'pile' list and I am not sure that I will ever get around to it. You see, this is why I would not mind an extra couple of hundred years of life, because I would like to read it someday, if I had time enough and there were not so many other goodies to read.
Taylor is in her late 30s in most of these entries; he is in his mid-40s. “E is my only ism,” Burton writes. “Elizabethism.” While she was away, he noted, “I miss her like food.” He calls Taylor “an eternal one-night stand” and “beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.” He declares, “She is a prospectus that can never be entirely cataloged, an almanac for Poor Richard.”
-- Dwight Garner at The New York Times
At first I was excited about this new book, but looking through the excerpts at Amazon, I am reminded that if you have any literay ambitions for your journal, you really do have to put in a little time and oomph into it and give the reader a little something to ride on. On the other hand, if you are famous like Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, you will still find readers eager to turn the pages, and although I was never a fan of these two, I am not entirely cold on the prospect of reading these diaries, but it is on my 'pile' list and I am not sure that I will ever get around to it. You see, this is why I would not mind an extra couple of hundred years of life, because I would like to read it someday, if I had time enough and there were not so many other goodies to read.
Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor
Oct. 26th, 2012 11:22 amSo many lurid and appalling books have been written about Burton and Taylor that it’s hard to see them plain. “The Richard Burton Diaries” is, however, true to why tabloid writers flocked to them: It’s a love story so robust you can nearly warm your hands on its flames.
Taylor is in her late 30s in most of these entries; he is in his mid-40s. “E is my only ism,” Burton writes. “Elizabethism.” While she was away, he noted, “I miss her like food.” He calls Taylor “an eternal one-night stand” and “beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.” He declares, “She is a prospectus that can never be entirely cataloged, an almanac for Poor Richard.”
-- Dwight Garner at The New York Times
At first I was excited about this new book, but looking through the excerpts at Amazon, I am reminded that if you have any literay ambitions for your journal, you really do have to put in a little time and oomph into it and give the reader a little something to ride on. On the other hand, if you are famous like Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, you will still find readers eager to turn the pages, and although I was never a fan of these two, I am not entirely cold on the prospect of reading these diaries, but it is on my 'pile' list and I am not sure that I will ever get around to it. You see, this is why I would not mind an extra couple of hundred years of life, because I would like to read it someday, if I had time enough and there were not so many other goodies to read.
Taylor is in her late 30s in most of these entries; he is in his mid-40s. “E is my only ism,” Burton writes. “Elizabethism.” While she was away, he noted, “I miss her like food.” He calls Taylor “an eternal one-night stand” and “beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.” He declares, “She is a prospectus that can never be entirely cataloged, an almanac for Poor Richard.”
-- Dwight Garner at The New York Times
At first I was excited about this new book, but looking through the excerpts at Amazon, I am reminded that if you have any literay ambitions for your journal, you really do have to put in a little time and oomph into it and give the reader a little something to ride on. On the other hand, if you are famous like Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, you will still find readers eager to turn the pages, and although I was never a fan of these two, I am not entirely cold on the prospect of reading these diaries, but it is on my 'pile' list and I am not sure that I will ever get around to it. You see, this is why I would not mind an extra couple of hundred years of life, because I would like to read it someday, if I had time enough and there were not so many other goodies to read.
Random House and Penguin
Oct. 26th, 2012 12:09 pmIn an effort to stave off the challenge from online retailers in a rapidly changing market, two of the world’s largest book publishers, Random House and Penguin, are engaged in talks to combine their businesses.
-- New York Times
Business just keeps getting bigger and bigger as we shrink smaller and smaller. Well, this has been so since the late nineteenth-century. It has been a long road to our serfdom.
-- New York Times
Business just keeps getting bigger and bigger as we shrink smaller and smaller. Well, this has been so since the late nineteenth-century. It has been a long road to our serfdom.
Random House and Penguin
Oct. 26th, 2012 12:09 pmIn an effort to stave off the challenge from online retailers in a rapidly changing market, two of the world’s largest book publishers, Random House and Penguin, are engaged in talks to combine their businesses.
-- New York Times
Business just keeps getting bigger and bigger as we shrink smaller and smaller. Well, this has been so since the late nineteenth-century. It has been a long road to our serfdom.
-- New York Times
Business just keeps getting bigger and bigger as we shrink smaller and smaller. Well, this has been so since the late nineteenth-century. It has been a long road to our serfdom.
LIfe Itself
Oct. 26th, 2012 02:00 pmSometimes you just have to savor the little joys in life.
_ _ _
Without the buttress of Christianity, without the cold dignity of a Stoicism that had evolved in response to a world in which human life was a trivial commodity, cheap enough to be expended at every circus to amuse the crowd, the rational obstacles [against suicide] begin to seem strangely flimsy. When neither high purpose nor the categorical imperatives of religion will do, the only argument against suicide is life itself. You pause and attend: the heart beats in your chest; outside, the trees are thick with new leaves, a swallow dips over them, the light moves, people are going about their business. Perhaps this is what Freud meant by “the narcissistic satisfactions [which the ego] derives from being alive.” Most of the time, they seem enough. They are, anyway, all we ever have or can ever expect.
-- A. Alvarez, “The Savage God”
_ _ _
Without the buttress of Christianity, without the cold dignity of a Stoicism that had evolved in response to a world in which human life was a trivial commodity, cheap enough to be expended at every circus to amuse the crowd, the rational obstacles [against suicide] begin to seem strangely flimsy. When neither high purpose nor the categorical imperatives of religion will do, the only argument against suicide is life itself. You pause and attend: the heart beats in your chest; outside, the trees are thick with new leaves, a swallow dips over them, the light moves, people are going about their business. Perhaps this is what Freud meant by “the narcissistic satisfactions [which the ego] derives from being alive.” Most of the time, they seem enough. They are, anyway, all we ever have or can ever expect.
-- A. Alvarez, “The Savage God”
LIfe Itself
Oct. 26th, 2012 02:00 pmSometimes you just have to savor the little joys in life.
_ _ _
Without the buttress of Christianity, without the cold dignity of a Stoicism that had evolved in response to a world in which human life was a trivial commodity, cheap enough to be expended at every circus to amuse the crowd, the rational obstacles [against suicide] begin to seem strangely flimsy. When neither high purpose nor the categorical imperatives of religion will do, the only argument against suicide is life itself. You pause and attend: the heart beats in your chest; outside, the trees are thick with new leaves, a swallow dips over them, the light moves, people are going about their business. Perhaps this is what Freud meant by “the narcissistic satisfactions [which the ego] derives from being alive.” Most of the time, they seem enough. They are, anyway, all we ever have or can ever expect.
-- A. Alvarez, “The Savage God”
_ _ _
Without the buttress of Christianity, without the cold dignity of a Stoicism that had evolved in response to a world in which human life was a trivial commodity, cheap enough to be expended at every circus to amuse the crowd, the rational obstacles [against suicide] begin to seem strangely flimsy. When neither high purpose nor the categorical imperatives of religion will do, the only argument against suicide is life itself. You pause and attend: the heart beats in your chest; outside, the trees are thick with new leaves, a swallow dips over them, the light moves, people are going about their business. Perhaps this is what Freud meant by “the narcissistic satisfactions [which the ego] derives from being alive.” Most of the time, they seem enough. They are, anyway, all we ever have or can ever expect.
-- A. Alvarez, “The Savage God”
"Sex, Money, Death in Hancock Park"
Oct. 26th, 2012 05:19 pmHaving gone retro in our celebrity news lately, thanks to some newly discovered Tumblrs, I have come across an old, sensational crime story from 1948 Los Angeles, though celebrities are not involved in it. The crime and the news, I suppose, rose to the level of celebritihood.
( Read more... )
( Read more... )
"Sex, Money, Death in Hancock Park"
Oct. 26th, 2012 05:19 pmHaving gone retro in our celebrity news lately, thanks to some newly discovered Tumblrs, I have come across an old, sensational crime story from 1948 Los Angeles, though celebrities are not involved in it. The crime and the news, I suppose, rose to the level of celebritihood.
( Read more... )
( Read more... )
Taming the Beast
Oct. 26th, 2012 08:56 pmI thought I would nab a few quotes from my late-night reading, Emily Maguire’s “Taming the Beast”. I regard it as a quasi-porn read, about a fourteen-year-old girl, Sarah Clark, who gets seduced by her teacher, Daniel Carr, kicking off a lifelong sexual obsession that is mutually shared and mutually destructive. The book comes from Australia, and it seems to enjoy some broad popularity. Part of its appeal is that the lovers also share an obsession with literature, and the book is fairly full of rich literary allusions. But the story gets really wild, and I lost credulity during the last quarter of the book, when the lovers get back together and start to literally destroy each other in their bestial passion. They never really seem to tame the beast. I thought it a bit bizarre, but an interesting read, especially for a quasi-porn novel. The excerpt below comes early on in the story, while she is still his underage student.
_ _ _
For two hours each weekday, Sarah Clark ceased to exist. Afterwards she could never identify the exact moment it happened, but always there was the crossing over, the melting, the absorption. There was no border where her body ended and Mr. Carr’s began. Mr. Carr explained that this is what Shakespeare meant by “the beast with two backs.” When two people were completely bound in the expression of love, they ceased to be separate individuals and became one creature. The act of passion when properly performed, created an organism larger than the sum of its parts; it created a beast with two backs, but one soul. Sarah knew it was no metaphor: if anyone were to stumble across their secret meeting place between three and five each day, they would not see a girl and her teacher making illegal, impossible love. They would only see a bucking, screaming two-headed monster. A dumb creature with no awareness outside of oneself. With no desire except to become more itself and less everything else.
-- “Taming the Beast” (2004) by Emily Maguire
_ _ _
For two hours each weekday, Sarah Clark ceased to exist. Afterwards she could never identify the exact moment it happened, but always there was the crossing over, the melting, the absorption. There was no border where her body ended and Mr. Carr’s began. Mr. Carr explained that this is what Shakespeare meant by “the beast with two backs.” When two people were completely bound in the expression of love, they ceased to be separate individuals and became one creature. The act of passion when properly performed, created an organism larger than the sum of its parts; it created a beast with two backs, but one soul. Sarah knew it was no metaphor: if anyone were to stumble across their secret meeting place between three and five each day, they would not see a girl and her teacher making illegal, impossible love. They would only see a bucking, screaming two-headed monster. A dumb creature with no awareness outside of oneself. With no desire except to become more itself and less everything else.
-- “Taming the Beast” (2004) by Emily Maguire
Taming the Beast
Oct. 26th, 2012 08:56 pmI thought I would nab a few quotes from my late-night reading, Emily Maguire’s “Taming the Beast”. I regard it as a quasi-porn read, about a fourteen-year-old girl, Sarah Clark, who gets seduced by her teacher, Daniel Carr, kicking off a lifelong sexual obsession that is mutually shared and mutually destructive. The book comes from Australia, and it seems to enjoy some broad popularity. Part of its appeal is that the lovers also share an obsession with literature, and the book is fairly full of rich literary allusions. But the story gets really wild, and I lost credulity during the last quarter of the book, when the lovers get back together and start to literally destroy each other in their bestial passion. They never really seem to tame the beast. I thought it a bit bizarre, but an interesting read, especially for a quasi-porn novel. The excerpt below comes early on in the story, while she is still his underage student.
_ _ _
For two hours each weekday, Sarah Clark ceased to exist. Afterwards she could never identify the exact moment it happened, but always there was the crossing over, the melting, the absorption. There was no border where her body ended and Mr. Carr’s began. Mr. Carr explained that this is what Shakespeare meant by “the beast with two backs.” When two people were completely bound in the expression of love, they ceased to be separate individuals and became one creature. The act of passion when properly performed, created an organism larger than the sum of its parts; it created a beast with two backs, but one soul. Sarah knew it was no metaphor: if anyone were to stumble across their secret meeting place between three and five each day, they would not see a girl and her teacher making illegal, impossible love. They would only see a bucking, screaming two-headed monster. A dumb creature with no awareness outside of oneself. With no desire except to become more itself and less everything else.
-- “Taming the Beast” (2004) by Emily Maguire
_ _ _
For two hours each weekday, Sarah Clark ceased to exist. Afterwards she could never identify the exact moment it happened, but always there was the crossing over, the melting, the absorption. There was no border where her body ended and Mr. Carr’s began. Mr. Carr explained that this is what Shakespeare meant by “the beast with two backs.” When two people were completely bound in the expression of love, they ceased to be separate individuals and became one creature. The act of passion when properly performed, created an organism larger than the sum of its parts; it created a beast with two backs, but one soul. Sarah knew it was no metaphor: if anyone were to stumble across their secret meeting place between three and five each day, they would not see a girl and her teacher making illegal, impossible love. They would only see a bucking, screaming two-headed monster. A dumb creature with no awareness outside of oneself. With no desire except to become more itself and less everything else.
-- “Taming the Beast” (2004) by Emily Maguire
