Thursday, December 22, 2022

Season's greetings

"From it, from the palm of her hand against the palm of his, from their fingers locked together, and from her wrist across his wrist something came from her hand, her fingers and her wrist to his that was as fresh as the first light air that moving toward you over the sea barely wrinkles the glassy surface of a calm, as light as a feather moved across one's lip, or a leaf falling when there is no breeze; so light that it could be felt with the touch of their fingers alone, but that was so strengthened, so intensified, and made so urgent, so aching and so strong by the hard pressure of their fingers and the close pressed palm and wrist, that it was as though a current moved up his arm and filled his whole body with an aching hollowness of wanting"--For Whom the Bell Tolls


The other week my opera group performed Tosca in two concerts.  One was out in Markham so I had to join a carpool to get there.  Before performing we had a potluck dinner and I brought profiteroles.


Debbie and I had lunch at the new Indian restaurant Raahi Kitchen.  The food was pretty good!


I finally had to quit my book club because nobody was coming.  I was about to do Hemingway's Spanish Civil War novel For Whom the Bell Tolls, and now I'm reading it anyway. (I'm also reading Walter Isaacson's Benjamin Franklin biography for my History Meetup.)


We just watched the last season of Ozark on Netflix.  Now we're starting the new Borgen series about Danish politics.


Yesterday Moira and I had lunch with Puitak and Gordon at the Dragon Pearl Chinese buffet in North York.  The range of food isn't as wide as at Mandarin, but that made it easier to avoid overeating.

Thursday, November 24, 2022

It lives!

I've had a bit of writer's block lately.


Last weekend I caught a cold and got hardly any sleep that night so I had to miss the singing group on Sunday.


There's something wrong with the handle on the front door so you can't open it even when it's unlocked! (I've been leaving it ajar when I go out.) We're getting a new handle next week.


I'm now reading Singapore:  A Biography for next month's History Meetup. (Is that place the future?) I've just got to the part about the Japanese conquest in World War II...


I've finished my Chinese dictionary summary.  Now I've started translating a 1950s anti-communist Chinese novel titled Wandering Youth. (I translated the first section some years ago.)


I've had some vivid dreams lately.  The other night I dreamed about The Golden Treasury of Knowledge, a children's encyclopedia set we had when I was young, and finding some of its volumes mixed with volumes of a new edition with different covers.  I also dreamed about having a house with a lawn growing on the roof, including a gravestone(!). Last night I dreamed of being in a studio audience watching the taping of an episode of the British soap opera Coronation Street.

Friday, October 28, 2022

Music

Last week I returned to the Toronto City Opera for the first time since before the pandemic.  We're rehearsing on Thursdays now, so I've moved my History Meetup and book club to Tuesday.


We're now rehearsing Puccini's Tosca for a concert performance in December.  The chorus part isn't very big, so it shouldn't be difficult for us.  I got there late last week so they were all out of scores, and I rely on fellow tenors sharing their score with me.


Carolyn's restarted our singing group.  But now we're meeting in person again, at the stadium complex just south of Coxwell station.  Our first session was last Sunday, but I was a bit late because I thought the place was farther south.


Monday was Toronto's mayoral election.  I voted for the Colombian candidate whose name I can't remember, but John Tory still got re-elected. (My candidate did finish second, so maybe he'll have a leg up next time...)

Monday, October 17, 2022

Sicilian history

Right now I'm reading John Julius Norwich's Sicily:  An Island at the Crossroads of History for next month's History Meetup.  I'm still in the ancient period, but it's pretty fascinating. (I'm also rereading The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz for my book club.)


Saturday John P. and I finally saw The Woman King at the Yonge & Dundas.  It was long but intelligent.


At the memoir group today we did something different:  we all chose a photo of ourselves and discussed it!  Everyone emailed me a scan of their photo and I combined them in a single document and shared it with the others. (I talked about the photo of me in the Cavalleria Rusticana chorus.)


Not much to talk about these days...

Saturday, October 08, 2022

Under the weather

I've had a cold the last few days.  (Maybe it's from reducing my caffeine intake.) I've been napping even more than usual.  I was going to see The Woman King on Thursday, but had to cancel.


Yesterday I went to the dentist for my second root canal, but the dentist decided it wasn't needed after all!  That sort of good news leaves me with a suspicious feeling...


Last week we watched the German series Dark Woods on topic.com .  It's based on the true story of the disappearance of a high police official's sister, connected to a serial killer, that became a cold case for decades.  Very believable.


Now our new topic.com series is Ordinary Woman, a Russian black comedy about a surgeon's wife whose flower shop is a cover for her prostitution ring.  It's perversely funny! (Moira says, "The Russians need a reboot.")

Tuesday, September 27, 2022

REDS (spoilers, including THE DEFIANT ONES)

Friday night my historical movie watch party showed Warren Beatty's Reds. (I was seeing it for the first time since its original release forty years ago.) That's the one with him and Diane Keaton as John Reed and Louise Bryant, American leftists who witness the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia.  It's certainly well-made, and more intelligent than the usual 1981 Hollywood fare, let alone the "fast food" output of today's studios. But it was ultimately a Hollywood movie with those familiar romantic tropes.  


In The Player shrewd studio executive Tim Robbins says, "I have no problem with political movies, so long as they aren't political political!" Reds isn't exactly political political; it's about romance as much as politics. (Jack Nicholson has most of the best lines as Louise's other boyfriend, the playwright Eugene O'Neill.) As with Doctor Zhivago, it feels like a story of lovebirds dealing with something far bigger than them.  I thought of that famous line from Casablanca:  

It doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.


I would have liked more about the period after Reed and Bryant returned to the USA and had to deal with wartime and postwar government repression and the US Socialist Party's playing dirty pool to keep out communists like Reed.  The scene where they try to infiltrate the Socialist convention from which they'd been banned (then retreat to the basement) feels hauntingly familiar.  It reminded me both of the Democratic Party cheating Bernie Sanders and of Keir Starmer's Labour Party barring elected delegates from their conference and mounting anti-heckler security!  This part could have been a whole movie in itself...


Later on Reed is back in Russia and hoping Louise will rejoin him.  Emma Goldman (one of my heroes, nicely played by Maureen Stapleton) says to him:

If Louise were to come here, she'd have to leave the United States illegally, then live in exile with you, and never go home again. All for the sake of a revolution she was never any part of. Why should she?

Because the audience wants her to, of course! So she returns (the real Louise didn't) and gets reunited with Reed in time for his deathbed scene... 


This ending reminded me of the ending in The Defiant Ones, where Sidney Poitier makes it onto the train that'll carry him to freedom, but Tony Curtis doesn't, so Poitier gets off and sits with Curtis and sings until the cops arrive to take them back to the chain gang. James Baldwin pointed out that this ending's purpose was to reassure the white audience that their friendship was stronger than Poitier's desire for freedom.  But suppose it had been the other way around?  If Curtis had got off the train rather than abandon Poitier, would the audience have believed it? They'd only believe the black man sacrificing himself for the white man, not vice versa. (Baldwin heard black men in the audience saying "Get back on that train, fool!")


Speaking of radical heroes of mine, on Sunday I saw the documentary Buffy Sainte-Marie:  Carry It On at the Bloor Hot Docs.  I remember when I was young hearing her song "Look at the Facts." There was something angry about it that I really respected! (I also admired the anger in punk rock...)

Tuesday, September 20, 2022

HANSAN: RISING DRAGON

Today John P. and I saw Hansan:  Rising Dragon, at the Empress Walk.  It's a Korean movie about a battle where naval hero Yi Sun-sin defeated the Japanese (whom they called Wae) over 400 years ago.  It was pretty well-made and exciting.  Now I'll have to see the movie it's a prequel to, The Admiral:  Roaring Currents, about the final naval battle where Yi defeated the Japanese once and for all at the cost of his own life. (That one was a huge hit in Korea!) Korean cinema has some considerable talent... 


Afterward we saw a crowd of expatriate Persians at Mel Lastman Square demonstrating against Iran's Islamic government.  I noticed they were waving the pre-revolutionary flag with a lion and sun in the place where they now have the "eternal flame"--a bit like the South Vietnamese flag I saw on a Toronto storefront once.


On Saturday we were celebrating my niece's return from Denmark and made a cake, but things were so chaotic that it wasn't till mid-afternoon that they got to offer me a piece, and it spoiled my dinner a bit. (I just had a bowl of Tim Horton Doughnuts chili, normally a lunch-sized meal.)


Moira went to Kingston for a few weeks, so I'm alone here, which is something different for a change. (Before she left, she took me by surprise by cooking and freezing several portions of beefaroni and chili for me!)


Last week the book club discussed Hans Christian Andersen's stories.  Next time it'll be Mordechai Richler's The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz.  


Yesterday the memoir group met again.  The others just want do one piece a week, but maybe they'll let me recite a second one anyway. (I'm already thinking of a piece about "manners.")


Is this really September?  Even the nights are still warm enough for me to sleep with the windows open!


In recognition of Her Majesty's funeral--why do I always think of these things a day late?--here's the Alfred de Musset poem "A Soldier's Funeral" set to music by the stunning Lilli Boulanger on the eve of the Great War!

Monday, September 12, 2022

At the dentist

Last week I went to my new dentist and got a couple of fillings. (My last dentist was Czech, but this one's a Korean from Indonesia!) A couple of my teeth need root canals.  I have the alternative of just pulling them out, and it's tempting:  they're inconspicuous molars, and I'm not a Julia Roberts with a perfect smile to protect.  But I decided on the root canals instead for a simple reason--I want to keep the symmetry in my mouth when I'm flossing!


My memoir group is moving from writing one piece at each online session to writing two, like when we met in person BC (Before Covid).  All of a sudden I've been thinking of all these subjects I can write about!  For today's meeting I'd written about joy, and I've already written about regret, next week's subject along with circuses. (Then I'll write about religious beliefs...) I thought about what I'd write while the dentist was working on my mouth.


On Thursday the History Meetup met at the Tim Horton Doughnuts near Bay & Bloor. (The previous place was too noisy:  there was a band performing on the street outside!) Howard suggested the Imperial Pub so we'll go there next.  I'm returning to the Toronto City Opera next month, which rehearses on Thursdays, so I'll be moving my Meetups to Tuesdays.


Preparing for the upcoming book club event, I read the Hans Christian Andersen story "The Angel." It was so beautiful that my jaw could have dropped!


I have a huge Chinese dictionary, and recently I've been going through it and writing each character down, including its pronunciation (both Chinese and in Japanese when it's used in Kanji), and a one-line meaning. (My computer can write Chinese and Japanese characters!)  


I'll forget most of it, of course, but it's like this story from India I read online:  a guru's student said "I've read tons of books, but forgotten most of them.  What good has it done me?" So the guru gave him a dirty old sieve and sent him on a quest to bring him water from the river.  But the water kept running out, of course, and the student had to return and say "I've failed." "No, you haven't," said the guru. "Look how clean and shiny you got the sieve!  The books you read and forget clean your mind just like the water cleaned the sieve it was running through."


Lately I've been listening to symphonies and concerti as I write down those Chinese words. Grieg's A Minor piano concerto reaches out and grabs you!  And Beethoven's third piano concerto in C Minor is one of my favourites too.


I just heard about how a Scottish lad called Rory verbally accosted pedophile Prince Andrew in the Queen's funeral cortege and got wrestled down by police while the crowd aggressively ignored him, singing "God Save the King." Now I know what happened after the kid said "The Emperor's naked!" Rory's my new hero.  As for the crowd, the word "useful idiots" comes to mind.  If you think Rory's impolite, consider that the funeral cortege for Belgium King's Leopold II, directly responsible for the Congo holocaust, got booed by working-class people in the Brussels streets. (I might have done it too, not just because he was evil but because he got away with it!)


I heard about an interview where the new King had said that NHS hospital staff should take a more "caring" approach. (So who's been working long, stressful hours, at the risk of their own health, to prevent Covid from killing even more people?  Not him.) Really, sometimes Charles is inept to the point of being pitiful!  And I say this as someone who admires the high ideals he sometimes expresses, and wants to give him a break.


Should the Dominion of Canada keep its "hand-me-down" monarchy?  I've never supported it and I'm not going to start now.  As far as I'm concerned, Canadian monarchists are the most fatuous people in the world!


Did you know that Charles III is the same title Bonnie Prince Charlie would have got if the 1745 rebellion had succeeded? (Oh, you did.)

Monday, September 05, 2022

The consequences of insomnia

Last night I had a bout of insomnia.  It started when I dreamed of something I've probably mentioned here before:  One morning when I was 15 I had to bicycle to high school in the pouring rain, and when I came to a stop sign I pressed the brakes to stop like usual, but the road was so wet that I skidded into the intersection.  And a policeman stopped me and chewed me out, and I cried!  This wouldn't bother me if he'd just been more sympathetic, but he didn't give a shit.  He called me "my man," and I've hated that expression ever since.  I failed to cope with the world, and I can't redo it.  My parents clearly felt I was too sensitive, but there it is. (The asshole got fired a week or two later--I just wish I'd been there to kick him while he was down!)


Anyway I woke up from this dream and couldn't get back to sleep because I still feel so angry about it.  Not just mad at the cop, but at everyone who's told me I'm too sensitive! (They effectively said, "We can't expect anything else to be different, but we can expect you to force yourself to be less sensitive about it.") And mad at myself, too, for being unable to cope. Eventually I did get back to sleep, but didn't wake up till noon.


My memoir group has taken to choosing our topic the week before instead of waiting for the revelation an hour or two before meeting. (Please bear with me, this really isn't a digression!) And I like doing it that way because I have time to think and write longer pieces.  But Selia prefers to still hear the topic on the same day, so I promised to email it to her then.  But this week, waking up so late, I forgot to do so and she found out too late to participate this week!  As it was, I lost track of the time and barely managed to get dressed before the meeting was due to start. (Sylvie, blessings on her, says she'll email Selia future topics.)


What else has been happening in my life?  Last week I got my hair cut and noticed I look a bit like Lennart Brix, Detective Lund's icy boss on that Danish show The Killing, which we've almost finished. (As the British would say, it's pure dead brill!)


On Thursday I had lunch with Debbie.  We were going to eat Vietnamese at Dzo, but it turned out the place wasn't open for the lunch trade, so we ate Chinese hot pot at Mix2 Grill instead.  I told her, "It's all part of the adventure!"


For my next History Meetup topic, I've chosen Qin Shihuang's unification of China in 221 BC.  So I'll be reading Jonathan Clements' The First Emperor of China.  But I can't go borrow the book till tomorrow because it's Labour Day.


Last week I read that the families of the Munich Massacre's nine Israeli victims 50 years ago have come to an agreement with the German government for compensation. Meanwhile, it turns out that Israel's Operation Breaking Dawn the other month killed 46 Palestinians, including 17 children. (When will their  families get compensation?)


Fifteen years ago my four-month break from diary writing ended, so I've resumed posting my diary at https://thistime15yearsago.blogspot.com/ 

Tuesday, August 09, 2022

THE KILLING

For the last few weeks Moira and I have been watching the fascinating Danish TV series The Killing.  It's about two mismatched detectives investigating a teenage girl's murder and one of them suspects a serial killer... It's also about the girl's family and a politician who gets entangled in the case.  Of course it's grim, but it has a lot of funny touches too. (There was an American version, but Moira says it isn't as good.) We're watching it through topic.com , a streaming channel with a lot of European stuff.


A couple of weeks ago I saw Francis Coppola's The Godfather yet again, at the Carleton.  The scene where Al Pacino talks to his father Marlon Brando in the hospital reminded me of talking to my own father in his last days two years ago. (I'm now wearing his old jacket, I guess to be closer to him.) Then I went and ate the same Chinese food from the same place where I got it after seeing The Godfather Part II three years ago!


Last week my book club discussed Breakfast of Champions.  I was ready to quit if nobody showed up, but there were a few people after all.  For our next book, I thought of doing Les Miserables, long enough for two sessions, then I came to my senses and chose Hans Christian Andersen's stories instead.


This week my History Meetup is discussing the Moghuls, so I've been reading Diana and Michael Preston's Taj Mahal.  For next month, I think we'll discuss the Age of "Discovery."


I've been talking to women over 50 on the dating site ourtime.com .  I've been getting better about starting conversations, but I'm still a bit shy about asking them out.  The other week there was some computer glitch and my subscription got terminated, and I couldn't restore it.  I've been thinking of trying Elite Singles next...

Sunday, July 17, 2022

Salsa on St. Clair

"I was on a par with the Creator of the Universe there in the dark in the cocktail lounge.  I shrunk the Universe to a ball exactly one light-year in diameter.  I had it explode.  I had it disperse itself again....  Ask me a question, any question.  How old is the Universe?  It is one half-second old, but that half-second has lasted one quintillion years so far.  Who created it?  Nobody created it.  It has always been here"--Breakfast of Champions


The weekend before last they had the Salsa on St. Clair Festival around the corner from my house, for the first time in three years. (The last couple of years they had a "virtual" version...) Once again, it was pretty noisy.


I dealt with the noise by going out to see Baz Luhrmann's movie Elvis at the Varsity.  It was pretty good, but a bit too long.


Yesterday Moira and I had lunch with Puitak and Gordon at the Mandarin Chinese buffet restaurant near Eglinton station.  I couldn't resist eating a full dinner, and I spent the rest of the day resting and digesting.  My fortune cookie told me to keep my eye open for unexpected opportunities.


My intermittent cold came back today, and I've been sneezing a lot.


Lately Democrats on Twitter have been repeating the line that voting isn't a valentine to your favourite candidate but a chess move to realize the world you want.  Very well, back in the 2016 primary the smart chess move would have been to vote for the candidate with the best chance of beating Donald Trump, and that was clearly Bernie Sanders. (It isn't just hindsight.) But too many Democrats made their primary vote a valentine to Hillary Clinton!  Practice what you preach, "pragmatists"...

Sunday, June 26, 2022

The memoir group

"The sun--the bright sun, that brings back, not light alone, but new life, and hope, and freshness to man--burst upon the crowded city [London] in clear and radiant glory.  Through costly-coloured glass and paper-mended window, through cathedral dome and rotten crevice, it shed its equal ray.  It lighted up the room where the murdered woman lay.  It did.  He tried to shut it out, but it would stream in.  If the sight had been a ghastly one in the dull morning, what was it, now, in all that brilliant light!

--Oliver Twist


Thursday of the week before last the Classic Book Club met at Noonan's (formerly Dora Keogh) to discuss Oliver Twist.  Or we would have, except that I was the only one who showed up!  Howard also came, but he thought it was the History Meetup...  I'll give the group one more try with Kurt Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions, but it looks like it's dying.


Last Monday my memoir group met in person for the first time since before the pandemic struck.  We gathered at Sylvie's house on pretty Alcina Avenue and wrote about cartoons and speculation.  We're going to meet online through Zoom, starting tomorrow.


I can now show DVDs in my Friday watch party! (It took Donald to figure it out, of course.) The last two weeks I've rented and shown David Lean's Oliver Twist and Danny Kaye's Hans Christian Andersen. (This week it's The Wild Bunch, but I can stream that one through Google Play.)


I was going to attend a Karaoke Meetup yesterday, but I couldn't find the place! (Google Maps turned out to be unreliable.) Oh well, at least I got out of the house...

Wednesday, June 08, 2022

The Ontario election

Nancy: "When such [women] as I, who have no certain roof but the coffin-lid, and no friend in sickness or death but the hospital nurse, set our rotten hearts on any man, and let him fill the place that has been a blank through all our wretched lives, who can hope to cure us?  Pity us, lady--pity us for having only one feeling of the woman left, and for having that turned, by a heavy judgement, from a comfort and a pride, into a new means of violence and suffering"--Oliver Twist


Last week was Ontario's provincial election, and this was the seat result, under the "first past the post" system:


Progressive Conservative:  83

NDP:  31

Liberal:  8

Green: 1


Once again, I've imagined how it would have turned out under the mixed proportional representation system I favour.  That's the one where A seats (about 70%) would be directly elected in the same way as before; B seats (about 25%) would be allotted to parties so that the total of A and B seats would be as close to the popular vote as possible; and C seats (about 5%) would be given to the top party in popular vote, to improve the chances of a stable majority.  But if one party got a landslide, so that its A seats alone were greater than its proportional number of A and B seats, the C seats would go to the other parties to bring them closer to their vote proportion.  Which happens to be the case here.


Party    A seats/    B/     C/    Total

PC       83                                83

NDP    31              13      2      46

Lib        8               17      2      27

Green    1                1       2       4


Under this system, the Progressive Conservatives would still have a narrow majority.  Under the present system they won 2/3 of the seats with just 2/5 of the vote.  Under my system, the opposition parties would each receive half a dozen fewer seats than if the vote were purely proportional, though the C seats would provide a slight compensation.  The Liberals were only slightly below the NDP in popular vote, but the PC advantage in seats particularly works against them.

Tuesday, May 17, 2022

Who's the cult?

"That when the Dodger, and his accomplished friend Master Bates, joined in the hue-and-cry which was raised at Oliver's heels, in consequence of their executing an illegal conveyance of Mr. Brownlow's personal property, as has already been described, they were actuated by a very laudable and becoming regard for themselves; and forasmuch as the freedom of the subject and the liberty of the individual are among the first and proudest boasts of a true-hearted Englishman, so, I need hardly beg the reader to observe, that this action should tend to exalt them in the opinion of all public and patriotic men, in almost as great a degree as this strong proof of their anxiety for their own preservation and safety goes to corroborate and confirm the little code of laws which certain profound and sound-judging philosophers have laid down as the mainsprings of all Nature's deeds and actions:  the said philosophers very wisely reducing the good lady's proceedings to matters of maxim and theory:  and, by a very neat and pretty compliment to her exalted wisdom and understanding, putting entirely out of sight any considerations of heart, or generous impulse and feeling.  For, these are matters totally beneath a female who is acknowledged by universal admission to be far above the numerous little foibles and weaknesses of her sex"--Oliver Twist


I've started reading Oliver Twist for my book club.  I'm also going to read The Silk Road:  A Very Short Introduction for the History Meetup.


The other week they leaked a ruling suggesting that the United States Supreme Court is about to overturn the 1973 landmark Roe v. Wade ruling legalizing abortion, as a result of Donald Trump appointing three right-wing justices.  Then there came a flurry of social media posts blaming the state of things on Bernie Sanders for getting in the way of Hillary Clinton defeating Trump!


Firstly, this is blatantly unfair.  Sanders could have double-crossed the Democratic Party and defected to the Green ticket, and he might then have won the three-way race! (At the very least, he likely would have reduced Clinton to the dreaded "spoiler" role.) But he played it safe, campaigned for Clinton and delivered 80% of his supporters on Election Day.  For crying out loud, he even warned Hillary that she needed to pay more attention to states like Wisconsin....


If you consider normal figures for supporters of an unsuccessful primary candidate not voting for the eventual nominee, in Sanders' case it's actually a lower number than usual. (Expecting such supporters to vote for the nominee unanimously is like herding cats!) And it's worth emphasizing that Sanders supporters actually voted for Clinton somewhat more solidly than Clinton supporters had voted for Obama in 2008.


Secondly, two can play the blame game.  During the primary, polls already showed Clinton leading Trump by a couple of points, the same dicey margin she'd have in November.  But these polls also showed Sanders leading Trump by close to ten points.  Was the Supreme Court's future less important then?  Should it have been of greater concern to Democrats who voted to nominate Clinton because Sanders was a white male? (Clintonites today are still using that "Bernie Bros" cliche, a soundbite worthy of Hillary's role model Richard Nixon.) To those who chose Hillary because "Bernie's not a Democrat"? When the Senate voted to invade Iraq, of course, Bernie was a truer Democrat than Hillary or Clueless Joe--but the Iraq disaster's only relevant when demanding that everyone vote Democrat in November...


Not to mention the black voters on Super Tuesday who overwhelmingly voted for Hillary out of personal loyalty to the Clintons, giving her a crucial edge. (Some of them didn't even know who was running against her!) Should they have cared more about the Supreme Court then?  But if you question the black community's wisdom you'll be accused of racism--and yet, stupid is as stupid does.


Clintonites fault Sanders for staying in the race all the way to the convention, though their heroine had done the same thing in 2008.  What it comes down to is that they blame Bernie for undermining Hillary's support by running against her at all! "Everyone would have been happy with Hillary if only Bernie hadn't said all those Mean Things!" If she couldn't afford the challenge of having Bernie running against her, it follows that she was a poor choice for the nomination.  Some Democrats at the time actually warned against nominating Hillary, only to be accused of sexism!  And even today her admirers are turning a blind eye to all the weaknesses that the general election made clear...

Wednesday, April 27, 2022

Watch party difficulties

The Friday before last, I was going to show The Informer at our History Meetup. (That's the John Ford movie about the Irish Troubles with Victor McLaglen ratting out his friend for the reward money.) But when I shared it from Google Play, for some reason the sound wouldn't come on!  In the end Sam from Texas suggested I show The Atomic Cafe instead, and I found it on YouTube. (That's the 1982 documentary about fallout shelter craziness in 1950s America, including the classroom film with Bert the Turtle and the ear-worm song "Duck and cover"!) Sam saved my skin...


For next week, I decided to circumvent Google Play problems by buying a DVD player to show movies that way. (I'd been planning to do that for a while anyway, because there are so many films I'd like to show that you can't get on Google Play!) On Monday I went to Best Buy and bought one, but it turned out to be for Windows instead of my Mac. Dumb, stupid, stupid, stupid!  Then I bought another machine but it wasn't the right one either...


Finally, last Friday I did another last-minute change.  I was going to show the D-Day movie The Longest Day but instead showed John Huston's Civil War movie The Red Badge of Courage from YouTube.  It may have been a great movie before a nervous studio gutted it, but it's still pretty good, with Audie Murphy's best performance.


The next day the whole family was here for Indian food!  Donald figured out that I could solve the Google Play problem by using the Firefox browser instead of my usual Brave.


I've started reading Pierre Berton's Klondike:  The Last Great Gold Rush 1896-1899 for my History Meetup next month.  It's pretty entertaining.


I finished watching Upstairs, Downstairs and Sharpe on Britbox and cancelled our subscription.  It'll soon be time to subscribe to something new:  I've found a site that streams the original Danish version of The Killing!


I haven't given up on getting that DVD player...

Tuesday, March 29, 2022

Doughnuts

Russian Interior Minister VK Plehve, 1903: "What this country needs is a short victorious war to stem the tide of revolution."


Hard to believe how warm it was the week before last! (I opened the windows in my room for the first time since the fall, but re-closing them turned out to be very tough.) Now the cold weather's back...


Last week we made doughnuts with my air fryer.  It takes a while because you have to let the dough rise for an hour, cut it into torus shapes then leave them for another hour before baking them.  The first time we tried making six without the holes, and they weren't completely cooked in the middle.  So we tried it a second time, making eight with holes. (We use a cup to cut the outer circles, a pill capsule for the inner ones.)  But piecing them together was a challenge.  I made chocolate and vanilla glazes, but too much of both, so we bought croissants to add them too.


I think I'll take a new approach the third time.  First roll the dough until you have enough area for three big circles, then cut them out and also cut out and replace the holes.  Then roll it again until you can make the three big circles again, along with the holes.  Then piece the rest together to make two.  And I think baking them at 350 degrees will work better than 375...


For the next Book Club event, I'm reading Longfellow's poems, starting with The Song of Hiawatha. (Then I'll reread Evangeline and The Courtship of Miles Standish and his shorter poems...)


The topic for next month's History Meetup is the Russo-Japanese War, so I'm also reading David Walder's The Short Victorious War:  The Russo-Japanese Conflict 1904-5.  The Russians expected an easy time against the Japanese "monkeys," but got routed instead.  I wonder if the same thing will happen to them in Ukraine just now?  In the meantime, I think we should subject Russia to complete economic isolation before turning to military escalation.  Even if sanctions aren't enough, we need to make sure of that before risking World War III.


At ourtime.com I was speaking to a lady who was close to coming to see me, but she changed her mind because I wasn't tall enough!  Oh well, it's better to be disappointed early...


In the blog where I reprint my diary entries from 15 years ago, I've got to the point where I took a break of almost six months.  So I guess I'll be taking a break on that blog too.

Wednesday, March 09, 2022

THE FRENCH LIEUTENANT'S WOMAN quotes

“Just as you may despise Charles for his overburden of [fossil-hunting] apparatus, you perhaps despise him for his lack of specialization.  But you must remember that natural history had not then the pejorative sense it has today of a flight from reality—and only too often into sentiment….  It is not that amateurs can afford to dabble everywhere; they ought to dabble everywhere, and damn the scientific prigs who try to shut them up in some narrow oubliette.”


“Yet this distance, all those abysses unbridged and then unbridgeable by radio, television, cheap travel and the rest, was not wholly bad.  People knew less of each other, perhaps, but they felt more free of each other, and so were more individual.  The entire world was not for them only a push or a switch away.  Strangers were strange, and sometimes with an exciting, beautiful strangeness.  It may be better for humanity that we should communicate more and more.  But I am a heretic, I think our ancestors’ isolation was like the greater space they enjoyed:  it can only be envied.  The world is only too literally too much with us now.”


“Dr. Grogan was, in fact, as confirmed an old bachelor as Aunt Tranter a spinster. Being Irish, he had to the full that strangely eunuchistic Hibernian ability to flit and flirt and flatter womankind without ever allowing his heart to become entangled.  A dry little kestrel of a man, sharp, almost fierce on occasion, yet easy to unbend when the company was to his taste, he added a pleasant astringency to Lyme society for when he was with you you felt he was always hovering a little, waiting to pounce on any foolishness—and yet, if he liked you, it was always with a tonic wit and the humanity of a man who had lived and learned, after his fashion, to let live.”


“The swift gay crunch of the iron-bound wheels, the slight screech of an insufficiently greased axle, the old affection revived by Mrs. Hawkins, his now certainty of being soon in real possession of this landscape, all this evoked in Charles that ineffable feeling of fortunate destiny and right order which his stay in Lyme had vaguely troubled. This piece of England belonged to him, and he belonged to it; its responsibilities were his, and its prestige, and its centuries-old organization.”


“It is, of course, its essentially schizophrenic outlook on society that makes the middle class such a peculiar mixture of yeast and dough.  We tend nowadays to forget that it has always been the great revolutionary class; we see much more the doughy aspect, the bourgeoisie as the heartland of reaction, the universal insult, forever selfish and conforming.  Now this Janus-like quality derives from the class’s one saving virtue, which is this:  that alone of the three great castes of society it sincerely and habitually despises itself.”


“This tension, then—between lust and renunciation, undying recollection and undying repression, lyrical surrender and tragic duty, between the sordid facts and their noble use—energizes and explains one of the age’s greatest writers [Thomas Hardy]; and beyond him, structures the whole age itself.”


“Milk punch and champagne may not seem a very profound philosophical conclusion to such soul-searching; but they had been perennially prescribed at Cambridge as a solution to all known problems, and though Charles had learned a good deal more about the problems since leaving the university he had not bettered the solution. Fortunately his club, like so many English gentlemen’s clubs, was founded on the very simple and profitable presumption that a man’s student days are his best.  It had all the amenities of a rich college without any of its superfluous irritations (such as dons, deans and examinations). It pandered, in short, to the adolescent in man.  It also provided excellent milk punch.”


“I am infinitely strange to myself.”

“I have felt that too.  It is because we have sinned.  And we cannot believe we have sinned.”


“This—the fact that every Victorian had two minds—is the one piece of equipment we must always take with us on our travels back to the nineteenth century.  It is a schizophrenia seen at its clearest, its most notorious, in the poets I have quoted from so often—in Tennyson, Clough, Arnold, Hardy; but scarcely less clearly in the extraordinary political veerings from Right to Left and back again of men like the younger Mill and Gladstone; in the ubiquitous neuroses and psychosomatic illnesses of intellectuals otherwise as different as Charles Kingsley and Darwin; in the execration at first poured on the Pre-Raphaelites, who tried—or seemed to be trying—to be one-minded about both art and life; in the endless tug-of-war between Liberty and Restraint, Excess and Moderation, Propriety and Conviction, between the principled man’s cry for Universal Education and his terror of Universal Suffrage; transparent also in the mania for editing and revising, so that if we want to know the real Mill or the real Hardy we can learn far more from the deletions and alterations of their autobiographies than from the published versions…  more from correspondence that somehow escaped burning, from private diaries, from the petty detritus of the concealment operation.  Never was the record so completely confused, never a public facade so successfully passed off as the truth on a gullible posterity; and this, I think, makes the best guidebook to the age very possibly Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  Behind its latterday Gothick lies a very profound and epoch-revealing truth.”


“All through human history the elect have made their cases for election.  But Time allows only one plea….  It is this.  That the elect, whatever the particular grounds they advance for their cause, have introduced a finer and fairer morality into this dark world.  If they fail that test, then they become no more than despots, sultans, mere seekers after their own pleasure and power.  In short, mere victims of their own baser desires.”


“My dear Charles, if you play the Muslim in a world of Puritans, you can expect no other treatment.  I am as fond as the next man of a pretty ankle.  I don’t blame you.  But don’t tell me that the price is not fairly marked.”


“And the other pleasure lay in the Americans themselves.  At first, perhaps, he noticed a certain lack of the finer shades of irony; and he had to surmount one or two embarrassing contretemps when humorously intended remarks were taken at face value.  But there were such compensations… a frankness, a directness of approach, a charming curiosity that accompanied the open hospitality:  a naivety, perhaps, yet with a face that seemed delightfully fresh-complexioned after the farded culture of Europe.”

Tuesday, March 01, 2022

Ukraine

"Fiction usually pretends to conform to the reality:  the writer puts the conflicting wants in the ring and then describes the fight--but in fact fixes the fight, letting that want he himself favors win.  And we judge writers of fiction both by the skill they show in fixing the fights (in other words, in persuading us that they were not fixed) and by the kind of fighter they fix in favor of:  the good one, the tragic one, the evil one, the funny one, and so on"--The French Lieutenant's Woman


What would I do about the Ukraine war?  Personally, I'd like to subject Russia to a total economic embargo, and I'm sure many others favour this. (Before making war ourselves, we should make sure that the alternatives have been exhausted.) But don't count on it, considering that so many of the Big People would face lower profits.  


I fear that Vladimir Putin understands Western capitalism all too well.  He must have been watching 42 years ago when Moscow invaded Afghanistan and President Carter responded by stopping grain sales to Moscow. But Reagan, that wicked opportunist, opposed the embargo because it would hurt American farmers, and quickly ended it after replacing Carter. (The truth is that they weren't hurt that badly:  US grain exports actually increased that year, and decreased the following year after the trade was restored.)


It's doing nobody any favour to deny that NATO bears indirect responsibility for this mess.  It goes back three decades to when Clinton reneged on Bush Sr.'s promise and started expanding NATO eastward.  What I think Washington should have done was to encourage the former Warsaw Pact satellites to form their own defence group, then gradually increase NATO's ties to it.  Similar end, more politic means.  


But of course, once again that old mindset is prevailing: "If you aren't with us, you're with the Bad Guys!" That weaselly tyrant Keir Starmer forced a dozen Labour MPs to repudiate their signature of a Stop the War statement on the simplistic grounds that it put equal blame on NATO.  And it's "letting the side down" to point out that Washington has been enabling similar aggression in places like Yemen and the West Bank... 


We saw this after 9/11, of course. Progressives who pointed out that Washington's inept Middle East policies were a significant factor in the disaster were accused of "blaming the victim" and "rationalizing" Al-Qaeda terrorism.  Well, the American government may not have been guilty of imperialistic hegemony in the Middle East before 9/11 (or may have, for the sake of argument); but they clearly became guilty of it afterward!


I've been watching more of that realistic, exciting Sharpe series about the Peninsular War on Britbox on Sunday afternoons. (I could watch it any time of the week, of course, but I just got into the habit of watching it then.) I noticed that it was filmed in the Ukraine...


Gotta admire those Russians brave enough to speak out against Putin's war! (I recall that few Russians were pleased when Moscow invaded Czechoslovakia in 1968.)

Friday, February 18, 2022

February blahs

"In spite of Hegel, the Victorians were not a dialectically minded age; they did not think naturally in opposites, of positives and negatives as aspects of the same whole.  Paradoxes troubled rather than pleased them.  They were not the people for existentialist moments, but for chains of cause and effect; for positive all-explaining theories, carefully studied and studiously applied.  They were busy erecting, of course; and we have been busy demolishing for so long that now erection seems as ephemeral an activity as bubble-blowing"--The French Lieutenant's Woman


It's February, and not much has been happening.  But Wednesday was warm enough to go out on a walk!


My sister gave me a hot air fryer for my birthday, so I've been looking up recipes that use it. (We've already made French fries with it.) You can make doughnuts with a lot less fat...


Last week John P. and I saw Steven Spielberg's West Side Story remake.  It was good, not great:  the original just had a bit more pizzazz. (It still had a truly great score.) Afterward we ate Middle Eastern food at a place with great rice!


I'm halfway through The French Lieutenant's Woman.  It's quite complex in a "postmodern" way, seeing the Victorian era through a decidedly 20th-century prism.


I've started reading Thomas Cahill's How the Irish Saved Civilization for my History Meetup.  It's about the Dark Ages period when classical learning survived by being transcribed in Irish monasteries. (The first chapter discusses the Roman Empire's fall and points to how the tax-collecting curiales class got squeezed between higher government demands and stiffer taxpayer resistance.)

Thursday, February 03, 2022

Here comes 60!

"I wish you hadn't told me the sordid facts.  That's the trouble with provincial life.  Everyone knows everyone and there is no mystery.  No romance"--The French Lieutenant's Woman


Not much to write about just now.  With the cinemas reopening, I can go to the movies again and have more to discuss...


Saturday is my 60th birthday.  I don't feel like much of a do:  I bought a small cake, and we can eat McDonald's. (You know you're getting old when...)


In the big snowstorm last week, our snow shovel got swiped off the front porch, so I trudged several blocks to the hardware store to buy a new one, and that one got stolen too!  We got a third one, and now we keep inside.  Funny that today's snowstorm didn't materialize...


I finished reading The War of the Three Gods, and now I've started John Fowles' The French Lieutenant's Woman for my book club.  It reads almost like non-fiction!


I still haven't tried that Wordle game, but I think I'd be good at it...

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD quotes

“There are just some kind of men who—who’re so busy worrying about the next world they’ve never learned to live in this one, and you can look down the street and see the results.”


Maudie Atkinson: “Stephanie Crawford even told me once she woke up in the middle of the night and found him [Boo Radley] looking in the window at her.  I said what did you do, Stephanie, move over in the bed and make room for him?  That shut her up a while.”


“‘Do you defend niggers, Atticus?’ I asked him that evening.

“‘Of course I do.  Don’t say nigger, Scout.  That’s common.’

“‘’s what everybody at school says.’

“‘From now on it’ll be everybody less  one—’

“‘Well if you don’t want me to grow up talkin’ that way, why do you send me to school?’”


“Simply because we were licked a hundred years before we started is no reason for us not to try to win.”


“Our father didn’t do anything.  He worked in an office, not in a drugstore.  Atticus did not drive a dump-truck for the county, he was not the sheriff, he did not farm, work in a garage, or do anything that could possibly arouse the admiration of anyone.”


“To all parties present and participating in the life of the county, Aunt Alexandra was one of the last of her kind:  she had river-boat, boarding-school manners; let any moral come along and she would uphold it; she was born in the objective case; she was an incurable gossip.  When Aunt Alexandra went to school, self-doubt could not be found in any textbook, so she knew not its meaning.  She was never bored, and given the slightest chance she would exercise her royal prerogative:  she would arrange, advise, caution, and warn.”


“Refreshed by food, Dill recited this narrative:  having been bound in chains and left to die in the basement (there were basements in Meridian) by his new father, who disliked him, and secretly kept alive on raw field peas by a passing farmer who heard his cries for help (the good man poked a bushel pod by pod through the ventilator), Dill worked himself free by pulling the chains from the wall.  Still in wrist manacles, he wandered two miles out of Meridian where he discovered a small animal show and was immediately engaged to wash the camel.  He traveled with the show all over Mississippi until his infallible sense of direction told him he was in Abbott County, Alabama, just across the river from Maycomb.  He walked the rest of the way.

“‘How’d you get here?’ asked Jem.”


“‘You’ve got everything to lose from this, Atticus.  I mean everything.’

“‘Do you really think so?’

“This was Atticus’s dangerous question. ‘Do you really think you want to move there, Scout?’ Bam, bam, bam, and the checkerboard was swept clean of my men. ‘Do you really think that, son? Then read this.’ Jem would struggle the rest of an evening through the speeches of Henry W. Grady.”


“‘Lemme tell you somethin’ now, Billy,’ a third said, ‘you know the court appointed him to defend this nigger.’

“‘Yeah, but Atticus aims to defend him.  That’s what I don’t like about it.’"


“‘Dill, you’ve got to stop goin’ off without tellin’ her [Dill’s aunt],’ said Jem. ‘It just aggravates her.’

“Dill sighed patiently. ‘I told her till I was blue in the face where I was goin’—she’s just seein’ too many snakes in the closet.  But that woman drinks a pint for breakfast every morning—know she drinks two glasses full.  Seen her.’

“‘Don’t talk like that, Dill,’ said Aunt Alexandra. ‘It’s not becoming to a child.  It’s—cynical.’

“‘I ain’t cynical, Miss Alexandra.  Tellin’ the truth’s not cynical, is it?’

“‘The way you tell it, it is.’"


“Mr. Ewell was a veteran of an obscure war; that plus Atticus’s peaceful reaction probably prompted him to inquire, ‘Too proud to fight, you nigger-lovin’ bastard?’ Miss Stephanie said Atticus said, ‘No, too old,’ put his hands in his pockets and strolled on.  Miss Stephanie said you had to hand it to Atticus Finch, he could be right dry sometimes.”


Atticus: “The older you grow the more of it you’ll see.  The one place where a man ought to get a square deal is in a courtroom, be he any color of the rainbow, but people have a way of carrying their resentments right into a jury box.  As you grow older you’ll see white men cheat black men every day of your life, but let me tell you something and don’t you forget it—whenever a white man does that to a black man, no matter who he is, how rich he is, or how fine a family he comes from, that white man is trash.”


Jem: “There’s four kinds of folks in the world.  There’s the ordinary kind like us and the neighbours, there’s the kind like the Cunninghams out in the woods, the kind like the Ewells down at the dump, and the Negroes….  The thing about it is, our kind of folks don’t like the Cunninghams, the Cunninghams don’t like the Ewells, and the Ewells hate and despise the colored folks….  You know, I’ve seen Atticus pat his foot when there’s fiddlin’ on the radio, and he loves pot liquor better’n any man I ever saw… but we’re still different somehow.  Atticus said one reason Aunty’s so hipped on the family is because all we’ve got’s background and not a dime to our names….  I think it’s how long your family’s been readin’ and writin’….  Imagine Aunty being proud her great-grandaddy could read an’ write—ladies pick funny things to be proud of.”


“I was reminded of the ancient little organ in the chapel at Finch’s Landing.  When I was very small, and if I had been very good during the day, Atticus would let me pump its bellows while he picked out a tune with one finger.  The last note would linger as long as there was air to sustain it.  Mrs. Merriweather had run out of air, I judged, and was replenishing her supply while Mrs. Farrow composed herself to speak.”


“I heard her say it’s time somebody taught ‘em a lesson, they were gettin’ way above themselves, an’ the next thing they think they can do is marry us.  Jem, how can you hate Hitler so bad an’ then turn around and be ugly about folks right at home…”


“I learned more about the poor Mrunas’ social life from listening to Mrs. Merriweather:  they had so little sense of family that the whole tribe was one big family.  A child had as many fathers as there were men in the community, as many mothers as there were women.  J. Grimes Everett [a missionary] was doing his utmost to change this state of affairs, and desperately needed our prayers.”


“Atticus, he was real nice…”

“Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them.”