Social network

I don't get it: the movie was lauded, Ebert included (he gave it 4 stars), and I didn't much like it. Yes, the protagonist is a spark of a social revolution, amoral, very smart, and the movie captures his development of a computerized environment that has become a social phenomenon – as well as his absolute lack of scruples, loyalty, or values. Yes, this is a modern phenomenon, and the film captures it. Yet in the end the film is an old-fashioned morality tale told in a modern way, and not much more. Fine enough – certainly better than a lot of other stuff. (See above).

Big Rig

Interesting look at truckers, who indeed move much of what we use in every-day life: produce, manufactured goods, cars, gasoline, packaged goods, food of all sorts. Some of the views expressed are as questionable as one will hear anywhere. Almost all seem to have the same accent; does that come from hearing the same music, eating in the same places?

Honeydripper

A John Sayles work. Worked nicely. Stacey Keach played a racist sheriff who was not an ogre, yet enough of a son-of-a-bitch to seem real. Ebert writes about it with praise.

http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080117/PEOPLE/648662905/1023

Silver City

Cooper fairly well executes a W. Bush satire; he excels at such roles. His character's name is Pilager (as in pillage). Ebert (who gave the film 3½ stars): The movie centers on the campaign of Dickie Pilager (Chris Cooper), who is running for governor of Colorado with the backing of his father (Michael Murphy), the state's senior senator. Dickie is the creature of industrial interests who want to roll back pollution controls and penalties, but as the movie opens, he's dressed like an L.L. Bean model as he stands in front of a lake and repeats, or tries to repeat, platitudes about the environment. Cooper deliberately makes him sound as much like George II as possible.

George the 2nd; cute. Anyway ... Pillager's campaign manager is Chuck Raven (get it? Raven)  (Richard Dreyfuss), a Karl Rove type who tells him what to say and how to say it. There's not always time to explain why to say it. 

The best of the supporting characters is Madeleine Pilager, Dickie's renegade sister, played by Daryl Hannah with audacious boldness. She likes to shock, she likes to upset people, she detests Dickie, and she provides an unexpected connection between the private eye and the campaign manager. Those connections beneath the surface, between people whose lives in theory should not cross, is the organizing principle of Sayles' screenplay; one of the reasons his film is more sad than indignant is that it recognizes how people may be ideologically opposed and yet share unworthy common interests.

I didn't much care for the character; thought her superfluous.

Sayles' wisdom of linking a murder mystery to a political satire seems questionable at first, until we see how Sayles uses it, and why. One of his strengths as a writer-director is his willingness to allow uncertainties into his plots. A Sayles movie is not a well-oiled machine rolling inexorably toward its conclusion, but a series of dashes in various directions, as if the plot is trying to find a way to escape a preordained conclusion.

Precisely so: the movie seems to meander, to make parenthetical remarks, to take turns where a straightaway is expected.


The movie's strength, then, is not in its outrage, but in its cynicism and resignation. There is something honest and a little brave about the way Sayles refuses to provide closure at the end of his movie. Virtue is not rewarded, crime is not punished, morality lies outside the rules of the game, and because the system is rotten, no one who plays in it can be entirely untouched. Some characters are better than others, some are not positively bad, but their options are limited, and their will is fading. Thackeray described Vanity Fair as "a novel without a hero." Sayles has made this film in the same spirit -- so much so, that I'm reminded of the title of another Victorian novel, The Way We Live Now.

It is not a typical Hollywood film, for sure, which is a strength, and, concurrently, a weakness. Rotten Tomatoes critics gave it 48%, and its audience 33%, reminding me of H.L. Mencken aphorism.

For what?

What an unadulterated piece of mierda. I hate myself in the morning for having watched it.

Justice for all

Newton, Jim. (2006). Justice for all : Earl Warren and the nation he made. New York: Riverhead Books.

A superb book about a superb American. Earl Warren was California personified: born in LA, he grew up in Bakersfield, his father a union man who suffered at the hands of capital. EW grew up wanting to go to law school, and did, attending Berkeley's law school after graduating from it. Inspired by Hiram Johnson, he entered politics, and rose from Alameda County assistant DA to California DA, then California governor.

EW supported Japanese internment, and could never bring himself to admit it a mistake. Otherwise, he carved a middle-of-the-road stance in most, almost all, political issues. He supported education, imposed a gasoline tax to help develop a top-tier road system, and fought entrenched interests.

Deweys' VP candidate in 1948, he was California's favorite son in the 1952 convention (which Taft entered as a favorite; Taft opposed aid to Britain during WW II, and voted against NATO). Whether Eisenhower made a deal with Warren for California's votes at the convention is unclear; what is clear is the bad blood between Warren and Nixon.

“We have a traitor in our delegation. It’s Nixon.” (248)

Warren accepted Eisenhower's offer to become Solicitor General, contingent on his getting the first Supreme Court vacancy. When Chief Justice Vinson died, Warren pressed for the spot; Eisenhower resisted, but gave in to Warren. He would long after say his two worst mistakes were to appoint Warren and Brennan. As is so often the case, I utterly disagree: those were two of the best acts he ever undertook as President.

Newton's narrative flows easily, and for a reader who enjoys history, this is a superb book.

The brothers Bloom

Ebert gave it 2½ stars, and that is just about right.

At a certain point, we think we're in on the moves of the con, and then we think we're not, and then we're not sure, and then we're wrong, and then we're right, and then we're wrong again, and we're entertained up to another certain point, and then we vote with Bloom: The game gets old. Or is it Stephen who finds that out? Bloom complains, "I'm tired of living a scripted life." We're tired on his behalf. And on our own.

 The problem with the movie is that the cons have too many encores and curtain calls. We tire of being (rhymes with perked) off. When an exercise seems to continue for its own sake, it should sense it has lost its audience, take a bow and sit down. And even then "The Brothers Bloom" has another twist that might actually be moving, if we weren't by this time so paranoid. As George Burns once said, "Sincerity is everything. If you can fake that, you've got it made." A splendid statement, and I know it applies to this movie, but I'm not quite sure how.

Brick Lane

A young Blangadeshi is sent to England to marry a man older than her, and leaves behind her sister, an irascible father, and memories of her mother drowning herself, and of happy times playing with her sister.

In London she lives with her two daughters and distant husband in an immense block apartment building that houses immigrants and others on the margins of society. After her husband quits his job in a fit of pique motivated by a perceived insult to his character and intelligence, she buys a sewing machine and begins making garments and money.

She lives for the letters her sister writes of her romantic adventures. As she reads such letters, Nazneen is transported back to her youth and her home.

Karim delivers her the raw materials and picks up her finished work is also Bangladeshi. Slowly a friendship develops between them. Her husband's indifference (his only tenderness, if it can be called that, is to take her hand in bed, before climbing on her and discharging his desire) pushes her away, and Karim's tenderness slowly seduces her.

When 9/11 happens the slow radicalization of Asian youth is propelled by the racist backlash of whites screaming invective and threatening violence ("go home, Paki" they scream, but never think that perhaps the colonialism of the homeland is, at least, partly responsible for the immigration of those they loathe).

Subtlety in storytelling renders this film weak; it could use a shot of adrenaline. Yet it is a beautiful film that tells an important and compelling story.

Sherlock Holmes

A modern take on an all-time great. Overdone. Downey did a great accent, but it seemed, somehow, off. McAdams was expendable, her acting mediocre. Critics in Rotten Tomatoes gave it 70%, the public 81%, which makes sense: it is aimed at the popular palette.

Scorpions

Feldman, Noah. (2010). Scorpions: the battles and triumphs of FDR's great Supreme Court justices. New York : Twelve.

A magnificent history of the four great Justices that FDR appointed to the Supreme Court. The narrative moves along, and centers on the four; to a significant degree FDR is a supporting actor. Frankfurter, a self-designated heir to Brandeis and Holmes, was appointed from Harvard Law, from where he had already conducted a correspondence with FDR. Starting out a liberal, he carved out a philosophy of judicial restraint (curious how history twists and turns), only to wind up his career as a conservative. Black was a Senator, a liberal, a former KKK member. Douglas was a Westerner, a prodigy, who had been appointed to the SEC on Joe Kennedy's recommendation; he never gave up his political ambitions, not until Truman beat him out for the VP nomination in 1944. Jackson was the last Justice appointed to not have graduated from law school. He carved out a judicial philosophy based on common sense and moderation. The 4 came from different places, too: FF from Austria; HB from Alabama; WOD from Washington; RJ from upstate NY.

Wonderful book.

One curiosity is how libraries classify it: various libraries have it at 347.7326 (Civil procedure and courts); some at 923.47 (general biography range of numbers); one as 920

Complete dog parenting for baby boomers and beyond

Oy vay.

'Tis autumn

In 1991 filmmaker Raymond De Felitta heard a singer named Jackie Paris on a Los Angeles radio station and began a search that first yielded the fact that Paris had died in 1977. In 2004 De Felitta discovered Paris was alive and making a comeback in a New York City nightclub. This film explores the life of the jazz singer along with an exploration into what it is to live the life of an artist in its least glamorous aspects. Includes interviews with jazz legends including Billy Taylor, James Moody, Anne Marie Moss, Mark Murphy, George Wein, and others.

Outsider Pictures

Paris had a distinctive voice. A tenor, it was pleasant, yet, for me, it lacked something, some quality. One person in the film said that once someone explained Paris's lack of success by saying he doesn't sound like anyone. A valid point. We are so inclined to say that a writer, a musician, a singer, resembles another, as a way of qualifying (and, often, pigeonholing) the talent, that someone who can not be so qualified can suffer thereby.

He also played guitar and tap-danced. Of the latter, there is no recording extant; there was a recording of Paris playing guitar in a trio, and singing: he reminded me a lot of Tiny Grimes (see above).

That he didn't make fame is strange. The film explored and tried to answer that. Perhaps his temper and his ego got in the way, though he would hardly be the first musician to have an outsize ego and temper. Peggy Lee tried to propel his career. Ella liked him. But, clearly, someone didn't.

Abyssinian chronicles

Isegawa, Moses. (2000). Abyssinian chronicles. New York: Knopf.

Found this book by accident:  I was looking for books by Japanese author Kazuo Ishiguro (who actually wrote The remains of the day, a book that became a Merchant and Ivory film), and saw this one; intrigued, I took it. Started to read it, and did consider that it would open up into a wonderful book. But it never did. Stopped at page 70. Perhaps I read one too many works of fiction in a row. Whatever the case, I moved on.

A reviewer was ambivalent about the book.

Last wish

Lewis, J. Patrick. (2005). Please bury me in the library. Orlando: Harcourt.

Saw this in a display case.

Compañero

After Alberto Granado died on 5 March, I watched the film Motorcycle Diaries. Granado and Guevara had taken the journey, and I remembered having watched the DVD some time back. That led me to watching Benicio del Toro in Che. Part one, the Argentine Partie un, l'Argentin  and Che. Part two, guerrilla Partie deux, guérilla.

That led me to wanting to read Che's biography. Two were available: John Lee Anderson's Che Guevara : a revolutionary life,which I needed to interloan, and this one, which was on the shelf. I took the latter one from the shelf, and interloaned the former.

I was flummoxed in reading Castañeda's work. He used the phrase fifteen minutes of fame referring to Guevara (whose fame has lasted far longer than 15 minutes, and to whom the phrase does not begin to fit), and referred to him as our man. I could not believe he would use such language, and was put off. Anderson's book arrived a few days later, I switched to it, and dropped Castañeda's work.

Rudo y Cursi

From the rural banana plantation where they play soccer for the village team to the big city stadiums, two brothers have become rivals and battle each other on opposing sides. When a talent scout gets stranded in their tiny town, brothers Beto and Tato are discovered. They are whisked away to Mexico City to play for the big leagues where they quickly achieve fame. Beto is nicknamed 'Rudo' for his hotheaded goalkeeper style and Tato is called 'Cursi' for his peculiar scoring technique. Success leads to excess. Rudo descends into a quagmire of gambling debt and drug abuse. Cursi is distracted by beautiful women and a second career as a pop singer. Having come so far, will the siblings remember their original goal to build a home for their mother?

 Fine enough film. The 6.7 rating on Imdb.com seems about right.

2 others

Unaccustomed earth, by Jhumpa Lahiri. I just could not get into the stories in Part Two: Hema and Kaushik. Tried, twice.

Book of Salt - didn't like it much

Possessed

After reading her piece about Turkish soccer fans in the New Yorker, I went looking by this book by Elif Batuman. tried it, but it is rather abstruse (or, perhaps, it was me).

Che: Part two

A straightforward telling of Ernesto Guevara's last year, from the last few days in Cuba, already in disguise as an OEA (OAS) bureaucrat, to his assassination in Bolivia. Nowhere as dramatic as Part one, almost a documentary, it lacks impact. Benicio del Toro does a masterful job of portraying el Che, but ... for the loyal base, this is a great film. Yet, even so, I thought it lesser than Part One. There was no mention of Congo, for instance.

Che: Part One (The Argentine)

(2008). Nicely done. Familiar story, yet riveting.

Bridget Jones's Diary

(2001). Cute, enjoyable.

Australia

(2008). Fair. Rotten Tomatoes ratings are 55% and 69%, and that about covers it.

Motorcycle Diaries

Watched it in honor, in remembrance, of Alberto Granado, who passed away on 6 March. Subtitled were hard-coded, as it were, and could not be hidden. In fact, they helped, for some of the Argentinian spoken was difficult to comprehend. A beautiful movie, very well done.

These days communism is out of favor, and it is disdained as a failed ideology that caused nothing but harm and destruction. Yet taking a fresh look at one who became a communist, and embodies romanticism and idealism in his iconic figure is a reminder that Ernesto Guevara became a communist as a result of seeing misery and exploitation in his native continent, and searching for a solution. Ché remains frozen in time, his face an icon that is used to sell beer as much as to represent a romantic longing.


Ernesto was an idealist, an adventurer, and a doctor. One semester before graduating medical school he took a trip through western South America with his compañero Alberto Granado. What they saw changed them. This film depicts the motorcycle trip they took from Argentina, through Chile, Bolivia, Peru, Colombia and Venezuela. It is inspired film work.

I am David

On the other hand, I found this film easier to watch than Pajamas. And Ebert panned it. I agree with his assessment that He has awfully good luck: Along the way, he meets mostly nice people who do what they can to help him, and there's an enormous coincidence just when it's most needed. Benji encounters more hazards on his travels than this kid. Yet, I liked it. Joan Lowright has a small but significant role (and I was astounded at how similar some of her lines and gestures were to those in Mrs. Palfrey).

El niño con el pijama de rayas

Tried watching it. Got a good bit into it, but could not abide any more.

Roger Ebert gave it 3½ stars. Speaking of how Germans bought into the Nazi propaganda and program, he makes an analogy to Enron, adding: Whenever loyalty to the enterprise becomes more important than simple morality, you will find evil functioning smoothly.

And:

There has not again been evil on the scale of 1939-1945. But there has been smaller-scale genocide. Mass murder. Wars generated by lies and propaganda. The Wall Street crash stripped people of their savings, their pensions, their homes, their jobs, their hopes of providing for their families. It happened because a bureaucracy and its status symbols became more important than what it was allegedly doing.


Have I left my subject? I don't think so. "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas" is not only about Germany during the war, although the story it tells is heartbreaking in more than one way. It is about a value system that survives like a virus. Do I think the people responsible for our economic crisis were Nazis? Certainly not. But instead of collecting hundreds of millions of dollars in rewards for denying to themselves what they were doing, I wish they had been forced to flee to Paraguay in submarines.

Why Reading Isn’t Dead

The news that Borders Group Inc. has filed for Chapter 11 protection and also plans to close 30 percent of its stores doesn’t come as much of a surprise. Increasingly, consumers and publishers are focusing on e-books, and many readers prefer to order books online through retailers like Amazon.com. I love small bookstores. I have a particular fondness for the Lift Bridge Book Shop in Brockport, New York, my hometown. The store may have more books than there are residents in the community.

I don’t think the Borders bankruptcy is an indication that reading is dying–it’s really a sign that reading is changing. The recording industry faced a similar shift. People hadn’t fallen out of love with music — they just wanted it in other forms.

Excellent point.

I’ve found that my 8-year-old son and his friends may actually be more excited about reading than kids of previous generations. They talk excitedly about Harry Potter, A Series of Unfortunate Events and other book franchises. My son’s 16-year-old babysitter borrowed some of my copies of the Hunger Games books. And on more than a few nights, I’ve had to go into my son’s room and turn off his iPod after he fell asleep listening to the Narnia books or the Secret series.

Violin maker

Marchese, John. (2007). The violin maker: finding a centuries-old tradition in a Brooklyn workshop. New York: Harper Collins.

A trumpet player follows the crafting of a violin by Sam Zygmuntowicz,a renowned violin maker whose praises had been sung by Isaac Stern, among others. The violin is being made for Eugene Drucker, a violinist with the Emerson Quartet, a finicky and difficult-to-please client. Along the way Marchese traces the history of luthiers since the times of Amati, Stradivari, and Guarnieri, all from Cremona, considered to be the best violin makers of all time.

Easy to follow, even fun to read, it ids an interesting look into an old craft still practiced widely.

Bottle shock

Passably good film about an Englishman who is trying to teach wine to Parisians (he has very few customers), and falls on an idea of having a blind-tasting competition between French and California wines. Entertaining.

Some liked it: on Rotten Tomatoes 48% of critics and 60% of viewers rated it positively. I'd agree with the 60%, perhaps add a dime.

Hilary and Jackie

A good film about the musical Du Pré sisters: as children both were prodigies, and Hilary was more highly regarded by adults for her talent on the flute. Eventually Jackie emerged as a prodigious talent, and did indeed become a world-class cellist.

Music and the dynamics of the relationship between the sisters are the core of the film. Daniel Barenboim is introduced as Jackie's love interest and husband. After a section of the film tracing the early lives and teen years of the sisters, the film looks at their lives first from Hilary's viewpoint, and, later, from Jackie's.

Poisoning the Well

Torsten Blackwood/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images

 The right wing is in absolute denial that there is such a problem; some yahoo just recently said that all the snowstorms we're having proves that there is no such phenomenon as global warming. It's socialism's agenda, another way to grow government.

Hertsgaard, to his credit, refuses to sugarcoat these facts. For all the justifiable fears about flooded coastlines, he writes, the “overriding danger” in the coming years is drought. “Floods kill thousands, drought can kill millions,” one expert told him. Within two decades, the number of people in “water-stressed countries” will rise to three billion from 800 million.

Only when they see the palpable truth will naysayers admit there is a problems, if then.


“Scientists had actually underestimated the danger,” he writes. “Climate change had arrived a century sooner than expected.” What’s more, given our current trajectory — economic, cultural and, most important, political — it’s guaranteed to get a lot worse before it gets any better. (Significant impacts like sea-level rise are now “locked in.”) And it won’t get any better — indeed, it will become truly unmanageable — if we don’t make the necessary cuts in global greenhouse emissions.

When the FDR Drive is underwater, what will skeptics say then?

This leads Hertsgaard to what he calls the new “double imperative” of the climate fight. “We have to live through global warming,” he writes, “even as we halt and reverse it.” In other words, while deep emissions cuts (what experts call “mitigation”) remain the top priority, that alone is no longer enough. We also have to do everything we can to prepare for the effects of climate change.

Cap and trade is anathema to the right wing.

Wealth and technology clearly matter, but politics and culture may trump them. Take Louisiana: efforts to prepare for future hurricanes, Hertsgaard writes, “have been crippled by the state’s history of poor government” along with “its continuing reluctance — even after Katrina — to acknowledge the reality of global warming for fear that might harm oil and gas production, and an abhorrence of taxes and public planning as somehow socialistic.”

Yasujirō Ozu

From reading The elegance of the hedgehog, I became aware of this Japanese film maker. Luckily, the library where I work owns 3 of Ozu's films on DVD. I have watched three of them over the past week. Aside from enjoying them, I noticed a few details about each, and all, that simply stood out. Ozu's films are different than just about any other film I can think of: the camera work is completely different, and that makes the films different than, say, Hitchcock.

My tendency and habit are to become emotionally involved with the film (otherwise, I turn it off), so evaluating one critically is not something I do well. Yet with Ozu's films I found myself seeing some aspects without trying: they just appeared clear to me.

The camera looks at a room, at a space, before a character enters, and remains after the character leaves. Thus space is assigned its own worth, given its own respect, as Renée Michel might have said (if, perhaps, more eloquently). Women's roles are clearly in transition in the three films that I saw: while embracing the traditional, they are redefining their roles. And the war looms as a major factor, of course, though it is never overdone.

On searching Ozu's name in the web, I found a website devoted to his films (or, rather to Ozu himself, his films being an aspect of the site. In fact, the site is about film, and Ozu is simply one part thereof). Of course, there are others; one is Senses of Cinema.

Late spring 1949. A father and daughter live together in apparent happiness. Somiya is a college professor; Noriko is an office worker. In her twenties, she is unmarried, and that soon becomes an issue (for everyone but her; she is content with her life). The professor's sister presses him to have his daughter marry, and busies herself finding a suitable match. At first the professor is content, but soon realizes that if he himself does not press Noriko to marry she might wind up with an unfulfilled life. He and his sister concoct a scheme, wherein he pretends to be planning to marry, as a way to pressure Noriko. Aghast that her father is planning to remarry, she gives in, and marries. In a wrenching final scene, the professor peels a pear, wan, resigned, poignant.

One fascinating aspect of this film if the professor's reluctance to pressure his daughter to conform to traditional expectations and roles. He's happy living with her, having her take care of him. Yet he is pressured by those around him, and sacrifices for her future good. Divorce seemed to be casually mentioned, and I wondered when divorce became an acceptable topic to mention in Hollywood films (I think of Lucy and Ricky sleeping in separate beds in the 1950s, as an example of different mores).

The camera work was stunning. I could not remember ever having seen a camera dwell on a room without a being in it. I've read that one criticism of Ozu is that his camera is always mere inches off the ground, but that seems absurd, though not entirely an inaccurate comment.

The two main actors in this film, and others of Ozu, were Hara Setsuko and Chishu Ryu.

A posting by Peter Bradshaw on Wednesday 16 June 2010 in the Guardian celebrates the 90th birthday of Setsuko Hara.

AN AUTUMN AFTERNOON

Sanma no aji

Her best friend, who is divorced and happy to be so, pushes her to marry. Her father's friends, with whom he regularly has restaurant meals that include copious amounts of saké and the more-than-occasional beer, soon begin to press him on why his daughter is unmarried (including one who has remarried).  on seeing his former teacher living with his old, unmarried daughter,

Escape from Amsterdam

Sherwood, Barrie. (2008). Escape from Amsterdam. New York : Thomas Dunne Books.

After reading Housekeeper and the Professor, and Elegance of the hedgehog, watching Ozu films as a result therefrom, I yearned for more Japanese. This book seemed in keeping with that theme, yet offering a slightly different take.

Started out fine: a young man deep in debt is informed by his father that he and his sister have inherited prints and other assets from a deceased aunt that could results in vast sums of yen for them. Seeing his ticket out of debt, Aozora goes looking for his sister in southern Japan, where he imagines she is working. They both must appear at the lawyer's office for the inheritance to go to them.

As he travels south, Japan does emerge as a character in this novel, and the narrative moves along nicely. Mai's phone is being used by another woman, and her cryptic answers draw Aozoa south. But as he arrives at Amsterdam, a theme park that promises all the pleasures tourists might want, from parades featuring a Princess Michiko look-alike (that is one of two of Mai's jobs) to prostitution, the story weakens. From there is goes on a sort of glide pattern, and although Sherwood tries, he can rescue the book from its two and a half star rating.

CNN Rises to the Top in Egypt Coverage

As mesmerized as I have been by watching the unfolding drama of Egyptian protest, governmental intransigence and repressive violence, I have been mindful of the magnificent work of Anderson Cooper and other CNN reporters. Getting home just before 10, each night I put on CNN; when Lawrence O'Donnell moved to the 8pm slot, my other cable channel lost my vote and my eyes. I do put on msnbc, but it is only for Richard Engel (a great reporter himself).

Photos from Egypt.

Pro-Mubarak forces once again clashed with anti-Mubarak forces on Friday. The brutal set-to didn’t take place in Tahrir Square in Cairo, where as many as 100,000 demonstrators managed to assemble peacefully. The brick-throwing was on cable television, as Fox News and MSNBC anchors continued knocking heads over what’s worse: the dictatorship we know or a democratic rebellion we can’t control.

One of the right wing's great inconsistencies is its insistence on the virtues of democracy: they still insist it was a valid reason for invading Iraq, but they do not insist on its validity in Egypt.

On Wednesday, Thursday and again on Friday, Chris Matthews, the host of “Hardball” on MSNBC, ridiculed Glenn Beck of Fox News for predicting a conspiracy for world domination by a leftist-Islamic “caliphate.” On Friday morning Steve Doocy, a co-host of “Fox and Friends,” showed a clip of Mr. Matthews likening the Muslim Brotherhood to the Tea Party movement and then asked L. Brent Bozell III, a conservative commentator, to explain “how the mainstream media has been playing down the Muslim Brotherhood, which, as I mentioned a moment ago, does have ties to terror.”

Where is it written that that the US decides how other nations conduct their internal affairs?

That was just another skirmish in the cable news culture wars, except that the bickering was woven into one of the most critical — and visually riveting — foreign news events in years. In all the confusion, contradiction and multisource coverage in the 11 days since the Cairo uprising began, viewers of American television have been best served by CNN. The Egyptian crisis has played out live on television minute by minute, hour after hour, in an incongruous clash of the modern and the ancient: the opponents fought with stones and on horse and camel, while the watching world looks on via satellite, Skype, Twitter and flip phone. The uprising against President Hosni Mubarak is as compelling to watch as it is hard to parse; even more than with most major news, it helps to have a reliable narrator.

Cooper has been stellar.

The ABC anchor Diane Sawyer stayed in New York and let Ms. Amanpour do what she does best. The NBC anchor Brian Williams had rushed to Cairo, followed by Katie Couric of CBS. They worked hard, but in that volatile setting, the network anchors didn’t have much to do; the best reporting was provided by well-connected veterans like Richard Engel on NBC and Lara Logan of CBS. After pro-Mubarak mobs began going after journalists — Ms. Couric was jostled while trying to report live on Wednesday from Tahrir Square — she and Mr. Williams left the country, quite wisely. On Friday Ms. Couric and Mr. Williams were both back in New York.

Where they belong, and will do least harm.


It’s an unfinished and changing story, but from the beginning, the Cairo uprising gave hundreds of thousands of unprivileged, unheeded Egyptians a voice. So it’s fitting that covering it is giving less eminent but experienced CNN correspondents like Ben Wedeman and Arwa Damon a chance to have their say as well.

Uprising in Egypt Splits U.S Conservatives

I'm not sure if this item belongs in Geopolitics, Politics, Comedy, or psychiatry. Glenn Beck blasts the uprising in Cairo as a threat to our way of life. Michelle Goldberg on how the rebellion is splitting U.S. conservatives—and the fallout for the 2012 presidential campaign.

His logic is, to say the least, interesting; it would be alarming if it weren't so pathetic: "We've shown you tonight that Hamas, Code Pink"—the feminist anti-war group—"and the Muslim Brotherhood are all linked together." With the future bleak, Beck called on his viewers to pray for "our way of life" and for Israel.

And he has more to say.


"This is Saul Alinsky. This is STORM from Van Jones," he warned on Monday, continuing, "The former Soviet Union, everybody, radical Islam, every—this is the story of everyone who has ever plotted to or wanted to fundamentally change or destroy the Western way of life. This isn't about Egypt. Everything is up on the table." It would all end, he warned, with the restoration of a "Muslim caliphate that controls the Mideast and parts of Europe," along with an expanded China and Russian control of the entire Soviet Union "plus maybe the Netherlands."

And he ain't alone: On Sean Hannity's radio show, Newt Gingrich warned that Egypt "could go the way of Iran."

Now, there is some incisive analysis.

‘Skins,’ Sex and Foreign Affairs

On Monday’s episode of  MTV could show minors in the kind of flagrante delicto that is usually reserved for mature audiences. Yet most adult Americans still can’t watch Al Jazeera English on television — even now, when the world is transfixed by images of Egypt in revolt. It seems like a perverse application of free speech. But sex is sexier than foreign affairs and it certainly sells better. Freedom of expression is guaranteed to all Americans, but mostly it follows the money.

Brings to mind that line by H.L. Mencken: "No one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public." [That seems moreaccurate than: “Nobody ever went broke underestimating the taste of the American public.”]

The English-language version is more cosmopolitan, offering a non-Western view of world events that is instructive, if not always persuasive. Al Jazeera English is available in more than 100 countries, including Canada, but it is almost totally invisible in the United States — except on cable providers in Burlington, Vt.; Toledo, Ohio; and Washington.

What ever happpened to the assertion that most people get their news through the Internet?

To be fair, Al Jazeera English may be providing the most up-close and personal coverage round-the-clock, but it isn’t necessarily the best. And “Skins” isn’t the worst series for young people on cable, not by far. That would be “Jersey Shore.”

The little I see of that latter show makes me wonder just why it is so poular. To wit: “Jersey Shore” is popular mostly because it is a reality show that works like a cartoon. The stars are self-parodying characters who misbehave outlandishly — without comeuppance or scary consequences. Like Daffy Duck, who can dodge hunters’ bullets and swallow nitroglycerin, characters like Snooki can curse, get drunk, have promiscuous sex and buy a stripper pole, and never get seriously hurt.

The elegance of the hedgehog

Barbery, M., & Anderson, A. (2008). The Elegance of the Hedgehog. New York: Europa Editions.

Indeed an elegant tale. With its refined taste and political perspective, this is an elegant, light-spirited and very European adult fable. (Kirkus)

Funny, poignant, incisive. Renée Michel is concierge in an upper-crust building whose tenants are all wealthy, some socialists, some not, and all are oblivious to what goes on under their very noses. What they see is what they know, what they expect to see, and all else is dismissed as irrelevant before being even seen. A proletarian autodidact, she ponders Kant, enjoys Tolstoy (her cat is named Leo), and considers the films of Ozu and Wenders sublime. Paloma Josse is the overly-smart 12 year-old younger daughter of a Socialist minister (government and watching rugby and drinking beer, along with entertaining seem to be his interests; nothing can be called a passion for him) and his wife (the only things that approach being passions for her are her psychotherapy sessions and her devotion to anti-depressants). Paloma has a cold war with her parents, and a hot one with her university-aged older sister. Already aware of the vacuity of life, she has scheduled her suicide for the day of her 13th birthday.

Renée and Paloma alternate narratives. Each observes the absurdity and predictability of the other tenants, and keep her interests, intelligence and passions secret. Each delves into her interests. Paloma dissects the emptiness of schooling, both hers (uninvolved teachers, students involved in drugs and sex) and her sister's (predictable pseudo-intellectualism).

When a tenant dies, his family sells the apartment, and the buyer is a Japanese man who immediately sets to remodel the flat. Both his project and his person set tongues a-wagging, and despite their purported lack of interest, many of the tenants are aching to see what is being done inside the 4th floor flat, as well as get to meet the new tenant.

Kakuro Ozu is an elder Japanese man who exquisite manners and mysteriously sublte nature excite the interests of so many of the residents of 7, Rue de Grenelle. In a chance meeting with the concierge, he asks her if she knew the former tenants of his flat. In answering in what she hopes is a disinterested manner, she inadvertently quotes the opening line of Tolstoy's Anna Karenina (all happy families are alike) . Monsieur Ozu catches it, and supplies the ending of the line (Every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way). Renée is aghast that she has, perhaps, given herself away. Indeed, she has, and it is the beginning of an elegant, beautiful, exquisite set of relationships between three kindred souls: Kakuro, Renée and Paloma. Add Marcella, Renée friend, and the story sparkles.

A gem.

La Mission

Watched La Mission last night. Enjoyed it a lot. Some reviewers liked it. Times review panned it; Ebert gave it 2½ stars. I give it 3: powerful acting overcomes some clichéd dialogue; great story; beautiful cars, wonderful music. Rex Reed, whom I did not realize is still around, gives it warm praise and 3 out of 4 eyeballs.

Road to Perdition

Good, but quite violent. And Tom Hanks's moustache?

The Housekeeper and the Professor

Ogawa, Y¯oko. (2009). The housekeeper and the professor. translated by Stephen Snyder. New York : Picador.

An unique novel, in more ways than one. A housekeeper is sent to care for a mathematics professor who has a memory span of 80 minutes (as a result of a car accident many years back). Thus, every day she must reintroduce herself to the Professor (neither he, nor she, in fact, have names). He asks for her telephone number and birth date, and uses such numbers to familiarize himself, and communicate, with her. One day she tells him she has a 10 year old son, and thus must rush home; he insists she bring him to his cabin and feed him there. On seeing the boy, the Professor nicknames him root, as he says that the boy's head reminds him of the square root symbol - √

The professor teaches them about prime numbers and other kinds of numbers, and turns out to be a rabid baseball fan; but for his memory ending in 1985, he and Root share a love for the Hanshin Tigers. Root and his mother develop love for the Professor.

In reading the book, I developed some of the interest in, and infatuation with, numbers that she did; I also saw parts of Japanese culture that are part of the author's descriptions and narrative. A beautiful, simple, engrossing book. A gem.

Enduring love

Stupid, violent, a waste of time.

Brando's heirs

Included are videos of Brando appearing on Dick Cavett's television show.

Rachel getting married

Anne Hathaway and Rosemarie DeWitt star in this eclectic movie. The music is unusual, and wonderful.


Kym (Anne Hathaway) is released from rehab for a few days so she can go home to attend the wedding of her sister Rachel (Rosemarie DeWitt). At home, the atmosphere is strained between Kym and her family members as they struggle to reconcile themselves with her past and present. Kym's father shows intense concern for her well-being and whereabouts, which Kym interprets as mistrust. She also resents her sister's choice of her best friend Emma (Anisa George), rather than Kym, to be her maid of honor. Rachel, for her part, resents the attention her sister's addiction is drawing away from her wedding, a resentment that comes to a head at the rehearsal dinner, where Kym, amid toasts from friends and family, takes the microphone to offer an apology for her past actions, as part of her twelve-step program.

The Notebook

I shoulda known better, and did, but still watched it. Mawkish. Rotten Tomatoes rating tell the story: critics gave it 52%, audience 85%.

The Catcher Was a Spy

Dawidoff, Nicholas. (1994). The catcher was a spy : the mysterious life of Moe Berg. New York : Pantheon Books.


New York-born (March 2, 1902), Newark-bred, Moe was the youngest of three children. Precocious, he had his father's facility for languages. After attending NYU for a year, he went to Princeton, and graduated (in the top 10% of 211 students) in 1923. He was, and perhaps remains, Princeton's best baseball player.

Signed by the Brooklyn Robins upon graduation, Moe played in 49 games, and had 138 plate appearances. At the end of the season, having made some money, he travelled to Paris. 1924 and 1925 he played in the minors, then joined the White Sox. Never a starter, he lasted in the buig leagues until 1939 as a player, his last 5 years in Boston, then coached. He was considered an excellent catcher, and some pitcher preferred him over other catchers.
Then came WW2. Through contacts, Moe was recruited by the OSS, and sent to Europe. His assignment was to help figure out if Germany was developing an atom bomb. His facility with languages, his proclivity for secrecy, and his charm, all combined to make him an effective operative. He was ssigned to figure out of Germany's leading phycisist, Werner Heisenberg, had the necessary resources for building the bomb. He didn't.

Once the war ended Truman disbanded the OSS, and the CIA retained about 10% of its operatives; Berg was not one of those. For the third part of his life, Moe defined his own existence, even if a shabby one at times.

Fascinating is an overused word (I'm guilty as charged), but Moe Berg was a fascinating individual. It would be difficult to botch such a book, and Dawidoff did a very nice job of it.

Dawidoff writes that a good piece on MB was written by Ira Berkow in the NY Times, 24 June 1972: The Catcher Was Highly Mysterious

Run on, and on, and on ...

The most famous mega-sentence in literature comes at the end of the book, not the beginning. Molly Bloom’s monologue from “Ulysses” (1922) —36 pages in the thinly margined, micro-fonted 1986 single-volume corrected text (and actually two long sentences, thanks to an often-overlooked period 17 pages in) — sets an impossibly high standard for the art of the run-on. It breathlessly binds together all that comes before while nearly obliterating it, permanently coloring the reader’s memory in one final rush. It feels unstoppable, and then it stops.

Francine Prose

Ran across her books whilst working on RFID with Fiction PR

Manuel Puig

Ran across him whilst working on Fiction P for RFID

Moneyball

Lewis, Michael. (2003). Moneyball : the art of winning an unfair game. New York : W.W. Norton.

Working on 796.3 for the RFID project, I stumbled on this book. Great find. Lewis looks at the 2002 Oakland As baseball team, analyizing its use of sabermaetrics, and its success (second winningest team, second lowest annual budget). He presents Billy Beane, and uses him as his protagonist, delves into Bill James and his invention of a new means of measuring success in baseball.

Great reading, engrossing.

Some Like It Hot

1959 classic with Monroe, Curtis and Lemmon. Saw it at the STS Playhouse in Phoenicia. Fun going to the movies, eating pop corn, and seeing a good, funny film. Gets over 90% in Rotten Tomatoes. Just plain fun.

Fracture

Hopkins plays a man whose wife is having an affair, and shoots her; allowing himself to be caught, in fact, walking into his arrest, he waives his rights to pre-trial maneuverings, and asks for a quick trail. Defending himself, he wrecks the prosecution's case (a police detective present at his arraingment was the lover of his wife), and confounds the prosecuting ADA. Rotten Tomatoes assigns a 71% to the film (both critics and fans), and that's about right. I was reminded of Sleuth, to some degree. Hopkins is good, not great; this is the sort of role he has patented, and he gives it a good effort. Gosling can do better. Entertaining.

The Life, Music, and Times of Carlos Gardel

Reissued work; saw on New Book cart, and took. Read of him until 1925. Born in Toulouse, France, in 1890, he moved to Argentina with his mother, his father long gone. Fascinating to read of the development of his career, from a somewhat anti-social youth to a man dedicated to a singing career.

Originally published in 1986. A work in Spanish, from 1999:
Carlos Gardel, su vida, su música, su época. Simon Collier; traducción de Carlos Gardini. Buenos Aires : Editorial Sudamericana, 1999.

The Visitor

Brennan, Maeve.. (2000). The visitor. Washington, DC : Counterpoint.
Read of Maeve Brennan's name for the first time in a recent book review*, which took me to her writing: mostly she wrote a column for The New Yorker,as "The Long-Winded Lady". This book was mentioned in her biography, and I went looking for it.

Dark and brooding, it is so typically Irish it is almost difficult to accept and say that. I found it difficult to read more than a couple of its small pages every day, yet would not stop reading. A daughter returns to her father's ancestral home, where her grandmother, her father's mother, makes it clear she is not welcome. The grandmother still holds a severe grudge against her son's mother, who left Ireland for Paris, many years back. She tells her granddaughter to go to Paris and make her life there. The latter, Anastasia, is bitterly disappointed in that.

*: review by Rob Nixon of “The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears” by Dinaw Mengestu.

The deeply felt pain in Mengestu’s novel is offset by the solace of friendship — whether it’s a friendship that hovers on the verge of romance, a friendship between an adult and a child or, above all, the friendships that steady the daily lives of fellow immigrants. Mengestu brilliantly summons up the tribe Maeve Brennan once called “travelers in residence” — men and women suspended between continents; suspended, too, between memory and forgetting.

The US vs. John Lennon

Surprisingly engaging after all these years. One of the talking heads was G. Gordon Liddy, an done of the great revelations, to me, he made was just how obsessed Tricky Dickie Nixon was with Lennon. Recent (in the past ten days, or so) releases of Nixon tapes continue to show just what an idiot and a criminal he was – yes, he was a crook.

Roberto & Me

Processing books for RFID in Children's, I came across books by Dan Gutman, which caught my eye. This one I took, read, and enjoyed. A kid can travel through time by holding baseball cards; he goes to the year of the card. Sort of Back to the Future, toned down for ages 9-12. He travels back to warn Roberto Clemente to not get on the fated airplane. Clemente talks with him, does a little preaching, and sends him off. That part was fun enough. But when the kid's great-grandson comes from the future to take him to the year 2080, to show him the effects of global warming, it got a little preachy. Still, for 9 year old boys, I suppose it works.

Where are they buried?how did they die?

A fun read, strange as it might seem. Used it to try and find Dizzy's grave in Flushing cemetery. Couldn't.

Between the folds

In the obituary of Eric Joisel, , saw mention of this film. Interloaned the DVD, and watched (most of it; it did get tedious toward the end). His origami pieces were quite amazing. One of the artists interviewed spoke about practicing technique: the more one practices, the more one innovates, the more advances can be made; and he made an analogy to Rachmaninoff.

City Island

Pretty good film about a 3rd generation City Islander who is a corrections officer (García), an aspiring actor who will not tell his family he smokes (he hides in the upstairs bathroom, sticking his head out the dormer window, and reads whilst smoking) or that he is taking acting classes. His wife also sneaks cigarettes. His daughter is a pole dancer -- that is, she ad lost her scholarship, and is pole dancing to make money to get back to school. His son is a typically gruff, nearly-anti-social teenager who surfs the web for porn.

In prison Vince comes across a young man whom he comes to recognize as a son he created but never knew (it's a long story). In acting class he is paired with Molly (Emily Mortimer), who has her own dark secret. Why she has an English accent is never cleared up, but she spurs Vince on to go for a casting call.

The movie works, if one wants it to, and believes it works. It has its good moments, its weaknesses, and great shots of New York.

Flash of genius

Interesting. Nicely done. Took a lot of guts, and money, to challenge Ford Motor Company for breaking his patent.