Everybody knows who Virginia Woolf and
James Joyce are; we just don't read them. We haven't read what they
read, either, and context and continuity count for a lot. Maybe
that's why to us Florence Lawrence doesn't look like a movie star,
Whispering Jack Smith doesn't sound like a pop idol, and Bob Hope
just ain't funny. Maybe you're only ready to hear Sonny Rollins,
Elvin Jones, and Wilbur Ware riff for almost a quarter hour on "What
Is This Thing Called Love" after you've plugged a whole pocketful of
nickels into a jukebox to hear Billie Holiday sing it.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Monday, September 23, 2013
When life gives you melons, make an analogy.
The thing about cantaloupe is every
once in a while you get one that is absolutely exquisite. No amount
of thumping, thumb-pushing, or sniffing can predict when this will
happen. You just open it up and it astounds you with its preposterous
and unanticipated deliciousness. Some days are like that and in this
way cantaloupes are sort of like life. However, in my experience no
cantaloupe is so awful you can't imagine how you will get through the
whole thing and you certainly don't look forward to ever starting
another. In this way, cantaloupes are not like life at all.
Monday, September 16, 2013
The Wodehouse version would be a hoot.
George Cayley was this English guy, the
6th Baronet of Bromptom. In 1853 he built a glider that
was basically a kayak on wheels dangling under a big canvas kite the
shape of a manta ray. He got his butler to sit in it and pushed it
off a hill for a successful flight across Brompton Dale. If they made
a biopic about this guy, he would fly it himself, but George Cayley
was 79 years old at the time and also a Baronet, a level of social
standing that exempts one from hurtling through the air in a canoe.
Monday, September 9, 2013
busy
After you've eaten and tended to
sanitation and hygiene, once you've gotten enough rest and taken a
bit of moderate exercise, by the time you've seen to it that your
financial obligations are taken care of, your social commitments
fulfilled, your emotional entanglements properly lubricated, and your
personal goals satisfactorily advanced upon, when you have devoted
some time and energy to first determining and then acting upon your
ethical obligations on the local, regional, and global levels, and
given some thought to our shared fate in a vast and incomprehensible
universe, it's difficult to find time to get anything done.
Monday, September 2, 2013
Oh the Humidity
Consider water, and its pervasive
influence in our lives. For the most part it is a benign and even
essential component of our day-to-day routines. It is an important
element of one's bath. Goldfish require it. But the possibility of a
deadly conflagration lies hidden in every molecule, in the form of
the element Hydrogen, which makes up fully two-thirds of even the
daintiest droplet. One need not describe the dreadful events of 8
May, 1937, at Lakehurst, New Jersey. Perhaps by substituting Helium,
water could could be made safe. I leave it to Science to work out the
details.
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