Monday, July 6, 2020

With Apologies



I don't want to write today.  I wasn't going to post.  I am uncommunicative at present.  I just want to figure things out on my own without distraction.  But the days are long and the nights longer and one must fill the hours.  I filled them yesterday with nonstop action.  I exercised and meditated and hauled granite and spread it in the driveways, showered, lunched, then, due to my lack of sleep and perhaps some Covid hangover, I sat down on the couch and just passed out for hours.  I don't know that I ever woke up.  Last night, I took a nerve pill and had no nightmares.  I plan on total activity again today.

So I didn't want to sit here and reflect on anything.  I do not wish to think, analyze, ponder.  I want to float out of the big, black hole.  But I have a routine, so I made the coffee and read the paper, and even though I skipped most of the disturbing stories. . . am I the only person in America who doesn't give two shits about watching "Hamilton"?  There is nothing that could force me into viewing it.  I haven't said this out loud to anyone since I am certain I will be taken as a racist or maybe even anti-gay.  I don't know if "Hamilton" is in any way connected to the gay community but to say all the gay guys I know love it.  But I can't stand musicals.  I can't.  I can't watch any of them except "The Wizard of Oz."  Why the exception?  Beats me.  But "Oklahoma" and "The Sound of Music" put the fear of music in me.  As a young man, when you were supposed to like rock operas like "Jesus Christ, Superstar" and "Tommy," I couldn't.  And oh, Jesus, plays like "Cats" and the one about the electric colored super coat or whatever it was. . . well, fuck me if I'll go.  I once got roped into giving a presentation to the very prestigious opera guild here in my own hometown, which was fine, but then I found I was expected to go to the fucking opera.  It felt like bugs were crawling all over me for however many days and nights that thing lasted.

So no, it is not a racial thing.  But even without seeing it, I have a strong hunch and would wager that the content of it is pablum.  The way people gush about it, it has to be.

When I read this morning how wonderful it was that "Hamilton" had come to television and that all of America was tweeting the whole show through, I knew I would have to come here to rant and confess.

Even those Gilbert and Sullivan "Monty Python" skits irritated me, though I must say I saw "Topsy Turvey," a movie about their relationship, and thought it wonderful.  I guess I can watch a movie about a musical as long as it is not a musical.  Perhaps.

These are strange and terrible days.  The Times is reporting that minorities are getting Covid more often than. . . what do they say, others?  They provide data to support that.  I believe the data.  They don't, however, provide evidence as to why.  They play hunches.  You can't do that.  You can't speculate based on your emotions.  I mean you can, but it is unsubstantiated bullshit at that point.  Mixing science with social speculation is bad ju-ju.  But that is what happens when you want to promote an agenda.

Such is the case with Covid demonstrations.  As you know, I've been saying you can't condemn one demonstration for spreading the virus because it is pro-Trump and not condemn another because you favor the cause.  Today, the Times admitted that might be the case, but only in a tepid fashion, and they lean to the side of "just" causes over "unjust" causes (link).  That is to say, they admit the moral dilemma but still fall on the side of a certain agenda.  Those other people are still deplorable.

Again, of course, they take their cues from this blog.

I have a morning of fair weather before the afternoon storms roll around.  Afternoon storms are good.  Without them, we bake.  With them. . . well, I took dinner over to my mother's house yesterday and we ate outside.  It was a very comfortable 75 degrees.  Those cooling rains are welcomed.  But I have to try to get some more granite to put down today.  I can only haul so much at a time in the back of my Xterra, and the granite has been in short supply.  I go every day to see if they have gotten any in.  I left some yesterday.  I'm hoping it is still there when I go back this morning.  And I have stretching/breathing/yoga to do and a very long walk.  I hope to tire myself out again today.  And not to think such terrible, debilitating thoughts.

I'll admit I did watch another disturbing documentary last night.  "Lot Lizards."  It was about prostitution in the big truck stops.  Wow.  That is all I can say.  I had no idea these places even existed.  We pretend to know life, but there is another world just on the other side of the fence that most of us hope to never see.  It is, however, out there.  And they are out there.  And I promise, you don't need fantasy and science fiction to scare you.  Vampires and aliens are romantic visions compared to what is truly just beyond your front door.

4 comments:

  1. Eating solid food again and celebrated by mixing chocolate and peanut butter whiskey to make several drinkable Reece’s Cups. The liquor do sneak up you when it tastes like candy.

    “Hamilton” is the current generation’s “Jesus Christ Superstar” or “Tommy.” They will drag the album out and torture their children with it, who will roll their eyes and make retching noises. The sentient ones will hide the album and swear they never really liked the shit.

    I used to think “The King of Hearts” was revolutionary film making and “Brewster McCloud” would usher in the Age of Aquarius. In five hundred years’ time “Hamilton” will be in some scholars list of “other musicals in the ends days of the American musical genres.”


    Al Hamilton was a right proper asshole and the fascist tendencies in his vision of politics have a direct line to where we are today. To turn him into a multi-cultural Superhero takes some brass. If Rodgers and Hammerstein had done it, we would have burnt them at the stake for crimes against humanity.


    All dramatic genres are stupid and silly when stripped of the collective “willing suspension of disbelief.” There is absolutely nothing more realistic or naturalistic about Arthur Miller’s style of play writing from previous generations. He imitated other modernists writing in the “realistic” “well made play” format. The audiences all bought into that mode of expression and collectively “suspended disbelief.” The Ancient Greeks wrote about how convincing and realistic their actors were when one actor played multiple roles wearing a giant mask and walking around in padded costumes to make them look larger than life. The American Musical genre is a product of the World War II and post-World war II enthusiasm for American prosperity. It celebrated American exceptionalism and “rags to riches” myth. It is a genre for a specific era. People in the theatre nostalgic for old forms keep trying to revive it with “rock musicals,” “concept musicals,” and now “hip hop musicals,” but the genre itself is dying if not dead.

    We do not know what the next genre will be, but it most likely will evolve from people “who don’t know what they are doing.” Those are the creators who do not listen to critics, audiences, producers, or even the sensible voices inside their own heads. If I knew that that was going to be, I’d write it. I don’t, so I just keep plugging away.

    The country is insane, and we are in the middle of a plague. Duck and cover is my motto. It’s a good time to do what pleases yourself and forget the world. Catch you on the flip side.

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    Replies
    1. But I loved the movie "Brewster McCloud." Maybe because I was young and the symbolism was over the top enough that I "got" it. Fuck. I'll have to see if I can find it and watch it again.

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  2. u sure said a lot for not wanting to write. :).

    c.c. Hi!!! Did you see the nice things he said about you a few posts back?

    I deduce from your first sentence you underwent some type of horrible but necessary medical intrusion. I just hope you are well or at least on the way towards wellness. Sending Love your way. Always miss you. And I'm always so happy to read you. Oldtime genius friend. x

    I love the Wizard of Oz. I know all the words. Remember when it only came on once a year?

    Ah well. I just came by cause it's what I do. I won't make too much noise.

    Tinkerbell: Upon the Loss of Innocence in Composition


    Raise the sheets
    and we’ll sail around
    the coves at night,
    our hearts on fire
    for the treasures of desire.

    The tops of the trees growl
    the wind from the sea,
    the tiny light asleep.

    The captain sharpens his
    sword
    with the light of the moon
    sailing all around the world.

    What would they say
    if they knew
    about these pirates
    in the dark
    singing their bawdy songs
    opening chests with rusty keys
    chasing children through the winding streets
    of quiet harbour towns
    just before dawn,
    when the dreams are strong
    the sea breeze in the trees
    while the tiny light sleeps,

    “wake”” the children cry
    there are dusty things
    clinging to the leaves
    the street lights weave
    there are awful men who shout
    and wave their rusty keys about,

    yet still the tiny light sleeps,
    changing change will never do
    and nothing much
    remains the same
    save the captain
    sharpening his sword
    with the light of the silvery moon.


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