The Cynic’s Word Book E – G
What follows are selections from The Devil’s Dictionary, by Ambrose Bierce. Many things could be said about Mr. Bierce. TDD began as a newspaper column, and was later published as The Cynic’s Word Book. TDD is a dictionary, going from A to Z. Today’s selection covers E – G. More selections are available. A – D Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost.
EAT, v.i. To perform successively (and successfully)
the functions of mastication, humectation, and deglutition.
ECONOMY, n.
Purchasing barrel of whiskey that you do not need for price of cow that you cannot afford.
EDIBLE, adj. Good to eat, and wholesome to digest, as a worm to a toad,
a toad to a snake, a snake to a pig, a pig to a man, and a man to a worm.
EGOTIST, n. A person of low taste, more interested in himself than in me.
ELOQUENCE, n. The art of orally persuading fools that white is the color that it appears to be.
It includes the gift of making any color appear white.
EMOTION, n. A prostrating disease caused by a determination of the heart to the head.
It is sometimes accompanied by a copious discharge of hydrated chloride of sodium from the eyes.
EPICURE, n. An opponent of Epicurus, an abstemious philosopher who, holding that pleasure should be the chief aim of man, wasted no time in gratification from the senses.
EPITAPH, n. An inscription on a tomb, showing that virtues acquired by death
have a retroactive effect. Following is a touching example:
Here lie the bones of Parson Platt, Wise, pious, humble and all that,
Who showed us life as all should live it; Let that be said—and God forgive it!
ERUDITION, n. Dust shaken out of a book into an empty skull.
ETHNOLOGY, n. The science that treats of the various tribes of Man,
as robbers, thieves, swindlers, dunces, lunatics, idiots and ethnologists.
EULOGY, n. Praise of a person who has either the advantages of wealth and power,
or the consideration to be dead.
EVANGELIST, n. A bearer of good tidings, particularly (in a religious sense) such as assure us of our own salvation and the damnation of our neighbors.
EXCOMMUNICATION, n.
This “excommunication” is a word In speech ecclesiastical oft heard,
And means the damning, with bell, book and candle,
Some sinner whose opinions are a scandal—
A rite permitting Satan to enslave him Forever, and forbidding Christ to save him.
EXHORT, v.t. In religious affairs, to put the conscience of another upon the spit
and roast it to a nut-brown discomfort.
EXISTENCE, n.
A transient, horrible, fantastic dream, Wherein is nothing yet all things do seem:
From which we’re wakened by a friendly nudge Of our bedfellow Death, and cry:”O fudge!”
FASHION, n. A despot whom the wise ridicule and obey.
FEAST, n. A festival. A religious celebration usually signalized by gluttony and drunkenness, frequently in honor of some holy person distinguished for abstemiousness.
FIDDLE, n. An instrument to tickle human ears by friction of a horse’s tail on entrails of a cat.
FLOP, v. Suddenly to change one’s opinions and go over to another party.
The most notable flop on record was that of Saul of Tarsus,
who has been severely criticised as a turn-coat by some of our partisan journals.
FORK, n. An instrument used chiefly for the purpose of putting dead animals into the mouth. Formerly the knife was employed for this purpose, and by many worthy persons is still thought to have many advantages over the other tool, which, however, they do not altogether reject, but use to assist in charging the knife. The immunity of these persons from swift and awful death is one of the most striking proofs of God’s mercy to those that hate Him.
FRIENDLESS, adj. Having no favors to bestow. Destitute of fortune.
Addicted to utterance of truth and common sense.
FUNERAL, n.
A pageant whereby we attest our respect for the dead by enriching the undertaker,
and strengthen our grief by an expenditure that deepens our groans and doubles our tears.
GALLOWS, n. Whether on the gallows high Or where blood flows the reddest,
The noblest place for man to die— Is where he died the deadest.
GENTEEL, adj. Refined, after the fashion of a gent.
Observe with care, my son, the distinction I reveal: A gentleman is gentle and a gent genteel.
Heed not the definitions your “Unabridged” presents, For dictionary makers are generally gents.
GHOUL, n. A demon addicted to the reprehensible habit of devouring the dead. The existence of ghouls has been disputed by that class of controversialists who are more concerned to deprive the world of comforting beliefs than to give it anything good in their place.
GLUTTON, n. A person who escapes the evils of moderation by committing dyspepsia.
GOUT, n. A physician’s name for the rheumatism of a rich patient.
GRAVE, n. A place in which the dead are laid to await the coming of the medical student.
GUILLOTINE, n. A machine which makes a Frenchman shrug his shoulders with good reason.
Early Voting
This is a repost from 2020. It was a simpler time. … PG took his brother GP to early voting. Georgia/Dekalb county sent PG an absentee ballot in the mail, which he did not ask for. He considered trying to cancel it, but decided that was too much work. The AB was mailed in last week. It is a great relief to ignore the political noise, with a clear conscience.
Early voting is conducted at a gym, on Will Ross Court in Chamblee. WRC is the type of industrial side street you would never notice. By coincidence, PG used to go there. A company printed labels there. PG used to raid their dumpster, to get stickers for his pictures. Eventually, the label company got an enclosed dumpster, and PG had to go elsewhere.
A few years later, a duplex neighbor worked at the label company. Bob was a short guy, who always held a lit cigarette. Bob has a series of roommates, most of whom had been in prison. Bo, Bob’s bf, was one. One time I noticed that Bo was missing. Bob said that he was “out of town.”
Bob and Bo were always nice to PG. Eventually, they got evicted. The landlord said that they did not fight the eviction, but just said ok, and moved.
Dozens of yard signs marked the roads to the voting place. The label company building company now houses ZYCI. “CNC Machining with Urgency for the Aerospace, Defense, Robotic and Commercial Industries.” The building is painted bright colors.
The plan was to drop GP off at the front door, and go find a parking spot. There was an empty spot behind him. When you go early voting, and there are lots of empty parking spots, that is a good sign. There had been horror stories about the first day of early voting. PG questioned the wisdom of having much publicized early voting, without the capacity for election day. Perhaps the way early voting is conducted should be re-thought.
At 1:05, PG decided to record the time. He had been parked for about 10 minutes. At 1:06, GP walked up to the vehicle. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
Rainbows
Lately, I have been walking to the gym. It is about 1.4 miles one way. I go there, do my workout, and walk home. One consequence is not riding the stationary bike, and listening to podcasts. When it is a good story, this can be transformative. It is an magical escape from one place, into another.
Today, I chose to listen to a story while walking home. The story was Rainbows, by @JosephONeillx. It was one of the good ones. By the time I went through the railroad underpass off Peachtree Road, my pace had grown even more glacial than normal. I did not want to miss a single detail. It did help that I was off the busy main road, whose loud traffic drowned out the action.
Listening to a story, as opposed to reading it, is a different path for the information. The author’s voice telling the tale is a more intimate connection that reading dead tree text. In this story, the reading author is a man. I assumed the lead character, Clodagh, was also male. When a Aoife, the daughter, appeared, and a husband named Ian, I just thought this was just the trendy New Yorker. It wasn’t until much later in the story, that it dawned on me that Clodagh might be female. The gender is never confirmed one way, or the other.
The story is rather disturbing. (Spoiler to follow) Aoife is being sexually harassed at school, and files a complaint. The boy who gets metooed is the son of a laundry owner. Clodagh Nolastname is a VIP customer. (This all happens in New York. Clodagh is not poor.) The Chinese laundry lady tells Clodagh to take her business elsewhere. Clodagh is mortified that it was not handled family-to-family, but through the authorities.
I continue to walk through a glorious October afternoon. The election is in two weeks, and we will see what becomes of the anti-christ POTUS. The story ends when I get into the house, and I listen to the credits. Theme music is by North American Plastics, which somehow sounds as New Yorkeresque as not knowing whether mom is a man, or a woman. This is a repost.
Einstein, Facebook, God
“I love this … When Einstein gave lectures at U.S. universities, the recurring question that students asked him most was: Do you believe in God? And he always answered: I believe in the God of Spinoza. Baruch de Spinoza was a Dutch philosopher considered one of the great rationalists of 17th century philosophy, along with Descartes.
(Spinoza) : God would say: Stop praying. What I want you to do …” Today’s commodity wisdom goes on for 687 words. The bs detecter was buzzing. It was time to consult with Mr. Google.
“At home in Berlin in April 1929, Albert Einstein received an urgent telegram from Rabbi Herbert S. Goldstein of New York: “Do you believe in God? Stop. Answer paid 50 words.” Boston Archbishop William Henry Cardinal O’Connell had derided Einstein’s famous relativity theories as “befogged speculation” conjuring “the ghastly apparition of Atheism.” An alarmed Goldstein sought to douse these rhetorical flames with reassurance from the great man himself.
“Einstein wired back “I believe in Spinoza’s God, Who reveals Himself in the lawful harmony of the world, not in a God Who concerns Himself with the fate and the doings of mankind.” (“Ich glaube an Spinozas Gott der sich in gesetzlicher Harmonie des Seienden offenbart, nicht an Gott der Sich mit Schicksalen und Handlungen der Menschen abgibt.”) The rabbi might have saved himself a little money; in the end, Einstein’s reply in the original German used only 25 words.”
“Einstein often saved ink by referring this way—a sort of philisophical shorthand—to Benedict (Baruch) de Spinoza, the 17th-century philosopher and scientist excommunicated from Amsterdam’s Sephardic Jewish community for his beliefs. … Spinoza did in fact “remain alone” for most of his life. Raised in an Amsterdam enclave of Marranos—Jews converted under the inquisitions of Spain and Portugal who had returned to Hebrew tradition in the Netherlands—Spinoza was considered a stellar pupil by his rabbis. When he began questioning the idea of a biblical God, however, they expelled him from the sect. Rather than convert to Christianity, he defied convention by living without organized religion. He never married and supported his life of scientific and philosophical inquiry through solitary work in a “high-tech” industry of his day, lens grinding.”
The key word in the question, “do you believe in God”, is believe. Whether you say G0d, Allah, Nature, or Football, there seems to be a consensus that something exists. Is belief the best way to approach this issue? What are the middle three letters of believe?
FWIW, Dr. Einstein pondered the God question from time to time. While video of Dr. Einstein does exist, there is little way of knowing whether students asked him about God, at every lecture.
The facebook wisdom-fest does not offer a source, for Spinoza’s ideas about Mary’s babydaddy. PG is not a Spinoza scholar, and quit reading the facebook post after a few sentences. He did look at a wikipedia page, and a document from Stanford University. A search was done for the phrase “God would say: Stop praying.” The terms “stop” and “pray” do not appear in either source.
God is in the details. Instead of “do you believe in God”, the question could be “do you believe in a facebook meme?” Pictures are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost.
The Velvet Warlocks
PG was listening to disgraceland episode#64, about the grateful dead. He was at a stopping point with multi tasking, and decided to look something up. The show mentioned the first show by the warlocks, later known as the grateful dead. This was 50 years before “dead name” was a dirty word.
“On May 5, 1965 ‘The Warlocks’ … played their first show, at Magoo’s Pizza Parlor in Menlo Park, California.” This was the day before PG turned 11. Lyndon Johnson was settling in for his elected term as President. The Braves were playing their lame duck season in Milwaukee. Combat troops had been in Vietnam for a little over two months. This was the start of the escalation. “By the end of 1965, more than 184,000 American troops were in Vietnam.”
At 27:44, dg-gd dropped an item that could not be ignored. The warlocks had to find a new name. Someone else was called the warlocks, and there were complications. It seems as though the warlocks … a pretty obvious name … was also an early name of the velvet underground. Other early vu names included the primitives and the falling spikes.
“When they (vu) finally did come across a name which stuck, it was thanks to a contemporary paperback novel about the secret sexual underworld of the 1960s that Tony Conrad, a friend of John Cale, happened across and showed to the group. The novel, written by Michael Leigh, remains in print most likely thanks to the band which appropriated its title.”… “Had Lou Reed and John Cale not seen a copy of this book in a New York City gutter (fittingly) and decided to use its name for their group, this little volume would have been justly forgotten. Written in a style which titilates while decrying the scene it describes, it’s a piece of blue-nosed junk.”
The rest of the show rolled on. Jerry stuck his finger in a dictionary at random, and found grateful dead. It was the name of a story. The band played at the acid tests, which mostly went well, until they did not. Pigpen drank rotgut to excess, until it killed him.
PG was editing pictures out of a folder labeled pa41. The images were shot by John Vachon,in June 1941. The last picture, while the 27 club end of Pigpen played over the speakers, was Women washing clothes in utility building at FSA (Farm Security Administration) trailer camp. Erie, Pennsylvania. Another picture, from January 1941, is Pinochle game in Czecho-Slovak Dramatic Club. Ambridge, Pennsylvania. Both pictures are included in this feature. This is a repost from 2020.
Mansplain
There was a link on facebook to a rather wonky article, Mansplaining 101: How to Discuss Politics and Feminism Without Acting Like a Jackass. The concept is that men sometimes do not show women adequate respect when talking to them. The Urban Dictionary has entries for both mansplain and womansplain. Neither entry is complimentary. This is a repost. Many of the links no longer work. The pictures are more entertaining.
The policymic feature is a few months old, and apparently was the scene of a lively comment debate. Unfortunately, Some people flagged a bunch of the comments. Little is left. This is the top comment: “Feminism doesn’t need to make room for men, men need to make room for feminist ideas in their spaces.” In one sentence you managed to discredit your entire argument. Who wants to argue with someone who thinks any opinion from the opposite sex isn’t worthwhile? “
When you google mansplain you are referred to a tumblr, Academic Men Explain Things to Me. This is supposed to be an authority on mansplaining. As this post is written, the top three posts are a boss who mispronounces a name, a grandfather who tells girls how to shave their legs, and an eavesdropping customer who tells a woman how to get to sleep better. This is not especially helpful.
Blank splaining seems to be a versatile label. It seems to be a way of attacking the messenger, instead of dealing with the content of the comment. It is true that the tone of comments can be troublesome. People often come across as condescending, especially when they are. It just seems to this observer that little is gained by putting a label, like mansplaining, on this phenomenon.
PG has been in many discussions where he was spoken down to. Jesus worshipers are notorious for not respecting people who don’t agree with their ideas about religion. There is also the possibility that people use this attitude of superiority as a weapon to cover up uncertainties about their position. Human beings are funny animals. We are not always the fair, logical creatures we think we are.
Another label to be put in front of splaining is white. The urban dictionary says this about whitesplain: “The act of a caucasian person explaining to audiences of color the true nature of racism; a caucasian person explaining sociopolitical events and/or history to audiences of color as though they are ignorant children.” Contrast this to the word on blacksplain: “Explaining things pertaining to African American history and culture, to someone who is racist or racially ignorant.” The white person is always wrong in this scenario. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
Goot Ist Mein König
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Senior Hamas official says Iran, Hezbollah had no role in Israel incursion, but will help …
Bach-Kantaten Nr. 51 “Jauchzet Gott in Allen Landen” + Nr. 71 ” Goot Ist Mein König”
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@HistoryBoomer Obfuscation is nuance that annoys you.
Pontoon Brewing being forced to ‘temporarily close’ because of lack of payment
belief systems, rituals, symbols, pilgrimages, tenets, holy days, shrines, festivals, taboos …
How to disable the Insert key in all applications? avatar Natallia Pustavalava
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@martyrmade A few notes on the Israel-Palestine conflict:
Israeli Plan to Double the Settler Population in the Occupied Syrian Golan by 2027 …
Ogie’s Forever – Infinite Zooming Dreamscapes [AI Animation AI Generated Video]
Hamas Attacked Universo Paralello Warm-Up Party In Israel. Hundreds Dead or Missing.
Egypt warned Israel days before Hamas struck, US committee chairman says
Diplomatic Note From Secretary of State Rusk to the Israeli Ambassador June 10, 1967
sunday bloody sunday ~ atrocities ~ WordPress ~ glass ~ Koyaanisqatsi ~ fellini satyricon
onion ~ bhamjoel ~ palahniuk ~ gaza ~ internet court of truth
ck carter ~ what not to say ~ wonder weasel ~ fox brothers ~ program remote
kevin kruse ~ mx record ~ repost ~ jason gould ~ notes
is it cultural appropriation unsightly vulgar abomination ~ use the plus sign with control shift as a backspace ~ This is my notes for this past week. It checks in at 2105 words. Since a couple of facebook threads were pasted in, there was a lot of editing. The pictures are a library of congress collection from my archive. As Suzie the floozie once told me, Your archive is your friend. (True story) I have decided to call you Jimbob when I am pasting correspondence. The spell check suggestion for Jimbob is bimbo. ~ The Scarlet R Talking about race is the new national pastime. Does anyone listen? Is anything worthwhile said? These questions are considered rude, and probably racist. ~ racerot … America clearly has a problem of color. One way view to this racial dysfunction is as a unified quagmire, rather than competitive hating of wokeness and racism. ~ people try to solve problems with name calling. If you don’t have the correct opinion, then you are a terrible person. We seem to forget the one basic truth: We’re all God’s children. ~ “walk a mile in my shoes” is a metaphor. Nobody expects you to actually put your feet in someone else’s clodhoppers. If you do, please make sure your feet are clean. ~ @ComicDaveSmith Fortify your borders. Have a real investigation to find out how the most militarized, prepared country in the world, with the best intelligence failed catastrophically to protect their people. Impeach Netanyahu for intentionally propping up Hamas and then failing to stop them. Send special ops to Hamas locations rather than bombing to minimize civilian deaths and prove that you actually do respect innocent life on the other side. And then make a historic peace deal: a return to 67 borders and a true end to occupation and settlements. Win not only the region but the world over to your side. ~ Lists about Georgia life usually mention heat, bugs, traffic, multiple Peachtrees, and southern accents. They seldom mention the shameless corruption, religious mental illness, rampant obesity, or racial nonsense. ~ @cwjones89 Today I woke up to a picture of a street in Ashkelon that I used to walk down regularly on the front page of CNN, aflame and littered with burned-out cars. I’ve been stunned. As a sense-making exercise for myself, here’s a brief 🧵with some thoughts on what this means: ~ I was replying to this “The … left-wing position … seems to be: “Hamas may be a bit over-enthusiastic, but Israel …” I DO NOT support Hamas. I also do not support a Palestinian Holocaust, which is where this rhetoric is taking us. If that makes me a ghoul, happy halloween ~ “Universo Paralello was not origintally intended to take place at the Re’im site, with organizers moving it to this location only two days before it started, when another site in southern Israel fell through. The new site at Re’im featured a pair of stages, with the Israeli producer Artifex playing the mainstage when the attack started. Gaster was told that the attackers closed the road into the festival from both sides so attendees could not escape.” ~ I don’t know if I would use the phrase “permanent solution” in a comment about Israel. That is awfully close to “final solution.” I do agree with the rest of the comment. We need less talking, and a lot more listening. ~ Sigh I started watching your videos a few years ago. I went on a kick of what I call “twink videos” with young gay men telling their stories. Very few of them are still showing. I googled you, and found some of your art movies. I continue to watch you, mostly out of habit. Often, I will watch you, and wonder why I am watching this. I see the positive comments. These people are entitled to their opinion. However, I think the negativity from other people in your life may be the prevailing opinion. Making candles is not very interesting. If you can make enough money from it to live comfortably … which I doubt … that is great, but I am totally not interested in your new candle collection. Some of the other topics you discuss are uncomfortable, and make me think less of you. Several videos … I cannot remember specifics … leave me wondering what the other side of the story is. I write a text blog. I have poured my soul into something, only to have literally body read it. It is the way things are. I realize that I am writing for my own enjoyment, and am happy if anyone else sees it. If anyone is still reading, my blog is here … I am rambling, and thank you for reading this far. If you would reply to this, it would make me feel that this is perhaps worthwhile. While I would not say to quit posting videos, I would say that I probably will not be watching much more. If you want to switch to a text blog format, I recommend WordPress. Be safe, and take care of yourself. Your story is still in the early stages. ~ Your post is now on Facebook, but it looks similar to other posts that were removed because they don’t follow our standards on hate speech. ~ “Before you judge someone, walk a mile in their shoes. Then, who cares? They’re a mile away and you have their shoes.” ~ Israel bombs border crossing ~ pictures today are from The Library of Congress ~ selah
Oscar Wilde
October 16 is Oscar Wilde’s birthday. On that day in 1854, he appeared in Dublin, Ireland. He is one of the most widely quoted people in the english language. Some of those quotes are real. Since he was a published author, it should be easy to verify what he really said. This birthday celebration is a repost, with pictures from The Library of Congress.
One night in 1974, PG was talking to someone, and did not know who Oscar Wilde was. The conversational partner was horrified. PG became educated, and learned about a misunderstanding with the Marquess of Queensberry. Soon the “Avenge Oscar Wilde” signs made sense.
Mr. Wilde once made a speaking tour in the United States. One afternoon, in Washington D.C., the playwright met Walt Whitman. Thee and thou reportedly did the “Wilde thing”.
The tour then went to Georgia. A young black man had been hired as a valet for Mr. Wilde on this tour. On the train ride from Atlanta to Columbus, some people told Mr. Wilde that he could not ride in the same car as the valet. This was very confusing.
After his various legal difficulties, Oscar Wilde moved to Paris. He took ill, while staying in a tacky hotel. He looked up, and said “either that wallpaper goes, or I do”. Soon, Oscar Wilde passed away.
Shoes
“Before you judge someone, walk a mile in their shoes. Then, who cares? They’re a mile away and you have their shoes.” This item turned up on my facebook feed recently. “Walk a mile …” is a metaphor. You should consider a person’s life experience before judging them. Nobody expects you to actually put your foot in their sneakers. If you do, please make sure your feet are clean.
Recently, I got to walk a 200 yards in someone else’s shoes. There was at an event, where people took their shoes off. When getting ready to leave, I saw a pair of basic black jogging shoes. I put them on, and they fit. I walked to my cabin, and went to sleep.
The next morning, I put these shoes on, and went to the dining hall. A man, who I will call Tom, told me that I had his shoes on. I looked under the table, and did not see the under armor logo on my feet. Tom said we could go to his vehicle after breakfast, and get my shoes.
What did I learn about Tom by walking 200 yards in his shoes? He wears the same size shoe as I, and his feet don’t stink. He handles a potentially embarrassing situation with kindness and tact. If I had to judge Tom, after walking 200 yards in his shoes, I would say that he is a cool dude. Pictures for this size twelve morning are from The Library of Congress.
The Scarlet R
This is a repost from 2016, with horrible sound. … Bloggingheads.tv released a chat with Glenn Loury and John McWhorter. With election days 35 days away, there was lots of talk about Donald and Hillary. It only took 1:44, to learn what is expected. The assignment is to call DJT a racist, and lament what a terrible thing that is. This is political discourse in 2016.
At 3:28, there was an aha moment. The line was that DJT, instead of an orange haired ogre, was really just a seventh grade bully. When PG was in seventh grade, there was a mean person who gave him problems. This individual is now a facebook friend, and regularly posts memes supporting DJT. PG likes to know what the “other side” thinks. Ignoring the memes is always an option.
At 9:22, the importance of identifying racism in others is stressed. This is said to totally justify the appeal of DJT. Once you call someone a racist, you no longer have to work to understand their motives. When the scarlet R is super glued to somebody, that is all you need to know.
The Scarlet Letter is the rip roaring tale of Hester Prynne. She got caught fooling around, and had the scarlet A, for adultery, pinned to her chest. It was pinned to her chest, and she could see who did the pinning. In today’s “woke” world, the scarlet R, for racist, is super glued to the back of the terrible person. The person never knows who gave them this dreaded, irrevocable, label.
At 21:28, John tells an amusing story. He was talking to a well meaning white woman, said to be helpful in selling more books. At some point, the woman felt obligated to say that “we don’t like to talk about race.” John was too polite to laugh in her face.
The truth is that talking about race is the new national pastime. Does anyone listen? In all that talk, is anything worthwhile said? These questions are considered rude, and probably racist.
At 31:09, John said the n word. It is not known whether it ended with -er, or with -a. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
FBI Most Wanted List
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How Angela Davis Ended Up on the FBI Most Wanted List – arrested by the FBI in 1970
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@robscape ~ hate speech ~ greenlight art ~ jre 2043 ~ allman bros
breathing meditation ~ mar a lago ~ triggernometry ~ remote ~ insignia ns 37f201na23 ~ test
queer kings of england ~ jamaal bowman ~ crestor ~ crestor ~ rosuvastatin
miss benny ~ pluck ~ moravec ~ debussy ~ marcel marceau
le mime marceau ~ walmart is racist ~ jaakun krysto ~ roku ~ i x kendi
mirror roku ~ tell me who ~ repost.. ~ jimmy ~ carly simon
miles davis ~ mike robinson ~ 123 philosophy ~ stillbirth ~ chayton
jeff hullinger ~ mikel wilson ~ running water ~ i x kendi ~ Luna Farfalla
@JDVance1 “Praying for our friends in Israel this morning. Just an awful situation.” This tweet was how I learned of the latest war in Palestine ~ @simonateba BREAKING – YOUR REACTION: New York Attorney General Letitia James (@TishJames) leaves the courtroom without granting any interview after losing 80 percent of the case against Trump on day one because she could not figure out what the statute of limitations was. ~ A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal. Oscar Wilde The Critic as Artist (1891) ~ There was an incident in my small group this past weekend. A couple of people said something about Oscar Wilde. Our leader, correctly, said that we should be talking about ourselves, and not about “mundane reality.” I immediately offered a prayer of apology, to the spirit of Oscar Wilde, for saying that he was mundane. ~ I look at the photos from this year’s gathering and remember how I felt each year in the afterglow of the weekend. Then I remember some of the nasty things and treatment I received from some of those so called loving men when I said things they disagreed with. Not agreeing to disagree and focusing on the common bonds, but silence at best, and ostracism and name calling at worst. I realise I can never go back and share my honest feelings because I would be the villain in their eyes, disrupting the love fest of the like minded. I can only look back fondly on a time to which I can never return. ~ I had not been to fall since 1996. This was by far the best fall conference I have been to. That said, I am aware that the other shoe might drop, and I could get kicked out of paradise. For now, I am just going to enjoy things going well, and not worry about the future. I also know that there are certain things to either say very carefully and diplomatically, or not at all. ~ Good morning Jimbob I hope this day finds you in good spirits, and that your father is doing as well as the circumstances allow. ~ It is looking like a glorious day in my WTF … white trash fabulous … life. I am on the front porch with my laptop. It is chilly enough to need a sweatshirt and head covering. I am on my second round of coffee, and will be moving on with the day soon. ~ Twitter has decided to quit publishing headlines, at least for non paying users. I was too lazy to write anything new this morning, so i have a rerun Since X is no longer showing headlines, I decided to write the title above the picture. This is the result ~ For the record, the picture was taken at a beauty pageant in 1930, in Galveston TX. At that time, Pauline Kael was 11 years old. James Broughton was 17. Their daughter Gina James was -18. Broughton came to atlanta in 1982. He gave a talk at a circle downtown, and there was a party that evening. I briefly chatted with him, though I doubt if he remembered anything the next day. I was talking about chakras, and i mentioned taint as slang for the perineum. He had never heard this . I greatly enjoy the poems of Mr Broughton, and consider him an influence. There was a 100th birthday celebration for him at the E church in candler park. Franklin Abbott used to have a healing circle at the E church in the 80s. He would always caution you about splinters in the floor. At the broughton event … he died in his 80s … there was a dancer. He was naked, and laid down on the floor, rubbing his crotch into the floor. I was horrified, but apparently the floor had been refinished. My coffee is about to run out. Let me go. Hope to hear from you soon ~ Your post is now on Facebook, but it looks similar to other posts that were removed because they don’t follow our standards on hate speech. ~ “the fact that an opinion has been widely held is no evidence whatever that it is not utterly absurd; indeed in view of the silliness of the majority of mankind, a widespread belief is more likely to be foolish than sensible.” Bertrand Russell Marriage and Morals (1929) ~ Where Would Jesus Park? ~ four rules Is it the TRUTH? Is it FAIR to all Concerned? Will it build GOODWILL and BETTER FRIENDSHIPS? Will it be BENEFICIAL to all concerned? ~ Hey, this is Luther. I enjoyed meeting you this weekend, and was delighted to spend some cabin 13 time with you. I am reading those books you gave me. The zine anthology came in handy yesterday. I had an eye doctor appointment, and got to spend quality time in the waiting room with my eyes dilated. I could not read text, but enjoyed looking at the pictures. I assembled the slide shows for the poems I read saturday night. These poems were created as visual presentations. The face that they might work as performance pieces is a happy accident. Gasoline was once considered a “vile and useless by-product” to the production of heating oil. I am composing this in a desktop document. This is one of my habits. I copy links of things I look up, and record random thoughts and quotes. On Monday morning, I publish this document. Here is an example, illustrated with “blackout poems.” Btw, I know a black man who calls these erasure poems, which still is not a good fit. One day I was have a better name for these. I would hope I have your permission to publish this. This would be without your name/email address. There is much more to say, and to listen to. I would enjoy an old fashioned correspondence, if that is something you would like to do. I am also on facebook as Luther Mckinnon, and twitter as @chamblee54. ~ A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal. Oscar Wilde The Critic as Artist (1891) There was an incident in my small group this past weekend. A couple of people said something about Oscar Wilde. Our leader, correctly, said that we should be talking about ourselves, and not about “mundane reality.” I immediately offered a prayer of apology, to the spirit of Oscar Wilde, for saying that he was mundane. ~ I look at the photos from this year’s gathering and remember how I felt each year in the afterglow of the weekend. Then I remember some of the nasty things and treatment I received from some of those so called loving men when I said things they disagreed with. Not agreeing to disagree and focusing on the common bonds, but silence at best, and ostracism and name calling at worst. I realise I can never go back and share my honest feelings because I would be the villain in their eyes, disrupting the love fest of the like minded. I can only look back fondly on a time to which I can never return ~ I had not been to fall since 1996. This was by far the best fall conference I have been to. That said, I am aware that the other shoe might drop, and I could get kicked out of paradise. For now, I am just going to enjoy things going well, and not worry . i am also aware that there are certain subjects that should be discussed carefully or not at all ~ I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. But for me, having to self edit seems contradictory to all the talk about authenticity to one’s self and honest expression. I’m sure I’d get along with a large percentage of the folks there with no problem. The handful that I wouldn’t or couldn’t do that with are some of the ones that are most vocal about those concepts and I find it very hypocritical. I was booted off the group’s FB page by one such individual with no notice being given and not for anything I posted there ( I almost never post there) it was they had a personal beef with me outside the group and had the admin power to boot me off. Thankfully another admin with a more level head put me back in and apologised. Another online acquaintance that was in the FB group for several years was kicked off the page a couple of weeks ago because he didn’t fall in line with the trans inclusive groupthink because he was supporting maintaining gay male only spaces. It’s all hugs and heart circles until you hit one of the tripwires of the alphabet soup brigade. Obviously I’m not talking about you, Luther. I’ve always appreciated that you’re a level headed guy who can listen to a wide range of views. And you also have a pretty strong BS meter. ~ sigh the trans issue is tricky. It is like social justice on steroids ~ This is the only reply poem I ever wrote. Someone at Java Monkey went to a festival in North Carolina. He said there were barefoot white people, who did not wear deodorant, but loved to dance. Those are my people! I feel like the kid in Flashdance when I perform this ~ is it cultural appropriation or just another abomination ~ what ben franklin really said ~ Twitter has decided to quit publishing headlines for non-paying users. I decided to post the title of this piece, above the picture. This might lead to confusion. For the record, the photograph was taken at a pageant in Galveston TX, in 1930. At that time, Pauline Kael was 11 years old. James Broughton was 17. Their daughter Gina James was -18. ~ the first time I heard of CS Lewis was 6th grade English. The teacher was this white haired lady. Some said she was sooooo sweet. She was telling us the story of Narnia. She described the story. Then she said, with a bit of a smirk, that the story was REALLY about Jesus. Yuck. ~ @zora Wishing all strength to Palestinians. And sick at the thought of how well this serves Netanyahu. He’s been looking for justification for full-scale retaliation for so long, it makes me wonder if he had the intel and chose to ignore it. ~ The Library of Congress ~ selah
Pauline Kael, Gina James, And James Broughton
Pauline Kael was the rockstar film critic. James Broughton was the radical faerie poet laureate. They were lovers, and had a daughter, Gina James. Pauline and James were not married, contrary to what some naysayers would tell you. This is a repost.
Much of the information in this feature is taken from online reviews of Pauline Kael: A Life in the Dark, a 2012 biography written by Brian Kellow. Gina James, also known as Gina Broughton, was not interviewed for the book. Neither did she participate in the making of Big Joy, a movie about James Broughton. (A wig store, Gina Beauty Supply is located at 25 W Broughton St, Savannah, GA 31401.)
Pauline Kael was born June 19, 1919, Petaluma, CA, died September 3, 2001, Great Barrington, MA, and stood 4 feet 9 inches tall. James Broughton was born November 10, 1913, Modesto, CA, and died May 17, 1999, Port Townsend, WA. Neither one had a middle name. Both used their birth name throughout life. Both had lives, before meeting in the late forties.
When she met James Broughton, Miss Kael was living what would later be called the bohemian life. After moving to New York, and being dumped for composer Samuel Barber, Miss Kael moved back to California. “Returning to the Bay Area with her tail between her legs in 1945, Pauline became involved with the incredibly effeminate avant-garde filmmaker James Broughton. He managed to impregnate Pauline but threw her out as soon as she told him, whereupon she moved to Santa Barbara to give birth to her daughter, Gina, in 1948.”
“Like her early career, Kael’s personal life was also fraught with failures. Kellow says “she had a habit of falling for gay men” earlier in her life because “they tended to share her passions and enthusiasms.” She had a daughter … with one of them, experimental filmmaker James Broughton.”
“For a time, during the 1940s, he lived with future film critic Pauline Kael. She encouraged his filmmaking endeavors but their relationship ended after she got pregnant. … Pauline Kael thought that Broughton made the biggest mistake of his life when he turned down a studio film after winning the prize at Cannes.” (Apparently Mr. Broughton was from a wealthy family, and could afford this attitude. Regarding his movie The Bed, Mr. Broughton said “It was the only film I created that ever made any money.”)
“Which brings us to the strange tale of Pauline’s only child, Gina James. … In 1948, at age 29, Kael got pregnant after she “talked her way into moving in” with James Broughton, a bisexual poet living in Sausalito. By Kellow’s account, Broughton was furious at the news of Kael’s pregnancy; he felt trapped and tricked by her. One of Broughton’s friends reported that he kicked Kael out of his house. She moved to Santa Barbara to have the baby. The birth certificate listed the father as “Lionel James, a writer”. It is one of the disappointments of the book that Kellow shines little light on Kael’s passion — or whatever it was — for Broughton, on how she processed that cruel rejection and on whether Broughton ever recognized Gina as his daughter.”
James Broughton moved on with his life. He made experimental films, got married, and fathered two more children. At some point he met Joel Singer, and began the romance that would last the rest of his life. It is tough to say whether he was genuinely bisexual, or whether he was playing the role society expected of him.
This review of Big Joy continues: “But interviews with Singer, waxing poetic about his years with the artist, are balanced by reminiscences from Broughton’s ex-wife and his abandoned son. Rather than only celebrating silliness, I found it admirable that the directors didn’t gloss over the pain he caused his wife and children. After all, when you think about it, he spent all of his life unable to decide if he was gay or straight; leaving a lot of broken hearts in his wake.
We learn from Kael that he flirted with everyone he met. “He rode off into the sunset with some guy,” his wife, Suzanna Hart tells us. “That was very sad for me, but not for him, which was…very irritating.” In her segments, Hart keeps her emotions in check but you can clearly read the sadness and anger in her face. The son doesn’t have much good to say about his absent father and the two daughters (the first by Kael and the second by Hart) both refused to be interviewed for the film. Singer has a lot to say about their blissful decades together, but he also comes off a bit heartless when he shows no guilt over breaking up what he calls Broughton’s “loveless” marriage.”
The baby daddy leaves, and the struggling writer becomes a single mom. “… Kael’s relationship with her actual daughter was something out of a Tennessee Williams play, and not in a good way. Kael home-schooled Gina and, as the girl grew up, kept her close, as a typist, projectionist, driver and right-hand man, and she banished any friend who actively encouraged the young woman to break out on her own. Though she was in many ways a loving and committed mother, helping to raise Gina’s son and always living nearby, one senses a Gothic selfishness in her mothering.”
Gina James declined to talk with Kellow for his book, but the author says Kael and her daughter had a sort of symbiotic relationship. “Pauline did not type, Pauline did not drive — Gina performed both those functions for her. And Gina was a very good critic of Pauline. She got to see Pauline’s copy before anyone else did and she often had very, very important and influential things to say. But Pauline really wasn’t wild about the idea of Gina breaking away and having her own life apart from her, and she didn’t do anything really to encourage her in that direction as far as I can see.”
Amazon one star comment: And her poor daughter – what a fate – TYPING all that. Poor Gina, — I can see her – Kellow described sitting silently in some coffee shop while her mother raved on and ON with her pet directors.
An affair with the experimental filmmaker James Broughton produced a child, Gina, whom Kael raised by herself, Mildred Pierce–like, heroically supporting them with a number of odd jobs, including running a laundry. Gina’s heart condition required expensive surgery, and Kael ended up enticing Edward Landberg, the owner of a local art-house theater, Berkeley Cinema Guild. They had begun as co-programmers. As Landberg tells it: “One day, when I was over at her place, I happened to graze her breast with my hand, and she kind of looked up and said, ‘What have you got to lose?’” Their marriage proved a fiasco, but Landberg agreed to pay for Gina’s operation, which Kellow suspects had been Kael’s motive all along…. Kellow shows more independence in assessing Kael’s treatment of her daughter Gina, whose ambitions to become a dancer or a painter she did little to encourage, preferring to keep her on “a silver cord . . . she had also grown accustomed to the steady, dependable role that Gina played—as secretary, driver, reader, sounding board—and she was loath to give her up.” Gina, for her part, was mistrustful of the dynamic she witnessed between Kael and her acolytes.“
“The closest and longest-lasting partnership of her life was with her daughter, Gina James … James considered speaking to Kellow, but finally declined, leaving a blank space at the center of this otherwise vividly detailed biography. Gina lived with her mother till she was over 30, typed up her reviews after Pauline stayed up all night writing them in longhand, and gave up both college and a shot at a dance career to serve as her mother’s caretaker, companion, and driver….
Kellow cites the text of the breathtakingly passive-aggressive eulogy that Gina delivered at her mother’s funeral in 2001: “My mother had tremendous empathy and compassion, though how to comfort, soothe or console was a mystery that eluded her … . Pauline’s greatest weakness, her failure as a person, became her great strength, her liberation as a writer and critic . … she turned her lack of self-awareness into a triumph.”
One more chapter remains. “Gina lived with Kael well into her thirties … That she married and had a child, Will, seemed to catch Kael by surprise, though she ended up adoring her only grandchild, someone with whom she could watch action movies with.
Kael died in 2001, when Will was about 19. Unfortunately, and Kellow made no mention of this in his book whatsoever, there’s a horrible postscript, one that may well have been the reason for why Gina declined to be interviewed for the book. On October 6, 2007, Will, then 25, went hiking in the East Mountain State Forest in the Berkshires. He was an avid hiker, not to mention a devoted martial artist. He had a girlfriend. He never came back. Gina reported him missing, but his body wasn’t found for more than week, on October 15. … “authorities found camping equipment nearby and while cause of death has not been determined, foul play is not suspected.”
Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. UPDATE These two comments were made to the original post. Anonymous said, on June 16, 2017 at 9:18 pm Your piece on Kael and Broughton is rife with misinformation and judgements galore and unbelievably badly written. Get a life and stop spreading falsehoods. And next time you put your fingers to a keyboard do your due diligence! James’ son was NOT ABANDONED! He lived happily with the two of us after the divorce. You fail to recognize that James’ ex-wife was a classic fag hag who had been married to another gay man before her relationship with James. She had been in psychotherapy for years before they got together and for many years after they split up. James certainly did not spend the rest of his life uncertain about his sexuality. Read his autobiography COMING UNBUTTONED and you’ll discover how misinformed your take on him is. You have done a great disservice to your readers by publishing such homophobic nonsense. Joel Singer ~ Sterling Wilson said, on August 19, 2017 at 1:40 pm Curious about this autobiography, I found the following from a Publishers Weekly review “Broughton forsakes introspection for literary gossip and name-dropping: Kenneth Rexroth, Pauline Kael, Dylan Thomas, Anais Nin. The birth of a daughter is dispensed with in two sentences. Broughton’s insistence on making himself the center of attention increasingly intrudes.”
UPDATE A journey down an internet rabbit hole uncovered this item. It is from “Remembering Harry and John”, by Mark Thompson on the occasion of Harry’s 100th anniversary “I remember the night we were socializing at the San Francisco Art Institute at a gala tribute for James Broughton. Harry (Hay) and James had sparked briefly as Stanford University undergraduates, but didn’t meet again until fifty years later at a faerie gathering. Few people knew that James had fathered a daughter with esteemed film critic Pauline Kael during their bohemian Berkeley days, but Harry was alert to the fact. Kael and Broughton were having their own reunion at the moment when, with typical impudence, Harry interrupted the conversation by loudly asking, “So, who was the mother and who was the father?” The stunned silence was punctured only by the whoosh of Kael’s furious departure.”
Chamblee54 
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