Doom and Goo

Much cooler, after rain, wind and mess New Year's Day. High, thin clouds rolled in later. Full moon so bright the horizon looked like dusk. Huge ring, with refraction "streamers." (Is it refraction, or reflection? I dunno.)

It's called A Very Short Introduction to ... . The Oxford University Press mini-book series, that is. The more I dig into the Concise OED, the more impressed I am. The software version still sits, unused, in administrator mode.

While surfing the 'net (in this mode), I went looking for news about the Buffy S8 comic. As many may already know, it's due later this year. The series could take two years to complete! I'll try to stick the link I found here ... oh, forget it -- the URL is a mile and a half long. Just go to tvguide.com and search Buffy the Vampire Slayer from the search bar at the top of the homepage. The article is dated Dec. 7. There are also some (apparent) sample pages at the website. I'm not sure I'm ready (at my age, in particular!) for fanboy nail-chewing every month or so for two-plus years. I'm also not sure I'm ready for Buffy and crew wearing armored space suits and brandishing ray guns. I guess they're on Earth, otherwise they'd all have big bubble helmets with little antennae sticking out! (I'm kidding! No, really!) If I'm still around and still interested, maybe I can lug home the graphic novel(s) in 2010. I can put them beside the Cerebus and Love and Rockets volumes I hope to get someday.

Speaking of "bubble helmet" science fiction and comics, one of the weirdest of the so-called Silver Age was The Doom Patrol. Conceived (I think) as a DC competitor to Marvel's Fantastic Four, the Doom Patrol were an elastic woman, a man with a negative-energy self, and a robot-man. Their arch-nemesis was a talking brain in a portable tank. His partner (later, I think) was a talking gorilla. I realize the concept sounds stupid, and the hokey covers reinforce that impression. But the way Bruno Premiani (the artist) and the writer (Arnold Drake) did it, it was a very strange comic for the era. I always wondered how they got the talking brain through the super-strict Comics Code Authority: it was in some really gooey-looking fluid that grossed me out when I saw it for the first time in my older cousin's comic collection. The talking gorilla villain was a snob who (I think) spoke French. The negative guy was emotionally unstable and not always in full control of his negative self, which zoomed around the page in weird black and yellow electro-flame. The stretchable woman was always whining about something, and the robot guy (he also had whatever was left of his brain exposed in some episodes, I think) was always having mechanical problems, but was the sanest of the three. The Doom Patrol was led by an eccentric genius in a wheelchair, whom the three members blamed for turning them into freaks while in outer space. (Some say the handicapped leader and the immature behavior of the Doom Patrol were in turn imitated by Marvel's early X-men -- I can say the two companies competed fiercely back in the day.) The Doom Patrol story edge was 1950s horror gimmicks, and the backgrounds looked like The Forbidden Planet or The Day the Earth Stood Still. It was fun to read, once you acquired the taste.

My cuz loved the early Doom Patrol (he also had a taste for horror movies -- the color ones he took me to when I was 8 or so really freaked me out: the screens were huge then -- and horror fiction that was truly gruesome, at least for an 8 year old who read them utterly aghast.). But the comic's style was considered dated, so the sales must have slumped something awful around 1968, and DC actually killed off all the characters in the last issue. (That never happened in comics back then -- well, almost.) To go out on a still weird note, the last comic ended with drawings of the artist and editor pleading with the fans to write in and save it! That didn't happen. My understanding (I haven't seen any) is that attempts to revive the Doom Patrol in the modern era have all flopped. It was one of those "you had to see the original to believe it" kind of comic. I hope some get re-published in decent quality someday. It was a kind of classic -- in a class of its own.

___
*The Doom Patrol original comic has been republished in a deluxe trade format.


LJ orig.: 01/02/07

"Who Could Ask For Anything More?"

Very nice temps, clear and I got out and enjoyed it some -- also nightwalking downtown. Man, things are changing down there!

OK, I take back the carp in last night's rant over the definitions in the Concise OED. They're "concise" -- OK, I finally get it: lots of words with concise definitions. I like the book, though I still think it's cheaply made. I hope the UK editions have those nice "flex-back" bindings with good paper inside. The (assumedly -- is that a word?* Hey, I need to log off to look it up!) US hardback edition has average-feeling paper and a cheap feel to the binding. It looks like the pages were stuck to a huge glue block like an ordinary paperback and a little red bit of fabric was tacked on the top to make it look "fascicle-bound." But there are no fascicle strings anywhere I see.

I'm not that much of a bibliophile, so I'm probably using the wrong words to describe elements of a quality binding. And I guess I was spoiled in the 70s by OUP's pioneering use of quality paperback bindings -- they felt as good as some well-made hardbacks of the era. Even in modern times, the OUP's runs of those little books (I forget what they're called -- quick summaries on some deep topics. I especially liked the Introduction to the Koran -- yes, I have three translations -- liked it so much I gave it to a friend, and that's why I can't remem ... . Oh, well.) So, count me still disappointed by the Concise OED print quality.

I've found no support line or anything else to guide me as to my problem with the OED software. It appears to work, but just not the way I need it to. Again, I may have been spoiled by the free software I've been using -- all of which I installed as an administrator and all of which had their little icons waiting for me when I logged into the limited account I use for internet surfing, word processing, etc. All of the free software did, without exception. Well, OK -- Open Office didn't, but a drag and a drop fixed that. The resulting OO desktop icon is not actually a shortcut -- it's part of the Desktop itself, like My Documents and IE, offering a menu of shortcuts to the individual OO programs. Neat. Wish I could say that about the Concise Oxford English Dictionary. I feel stupid, and I feel guilty that I wasted my Christmas money on it.

On to a brighter topic: why the Beatles and Joni Mitchell appealed to me more than the Stones and Dylan. Yes, Joni's and the Fab Four's music was easier to access in the mid-60s, but local radio quit playing all Beatles music after John Lennon's famous remark about Jesus' popularity relative to theirs. Also, Joni's "Blue" got no airplay around me -- and I was listening!

No, there's another reason. When I was selling records retail in '84-'85, the musicians there schooled me on something: nearly everybody has musical "preferences" for melody, harmony, or rhythm. My preference is clearly for melody, so the more melodic writing of Joni Mitchell and the Beatles appealed to me instantly.

Dylan and the Stones are strongly rhythmic, so my "beat-friendly" pals in school went more for their music. Yes, Dylan can write melodies very well ("Like A Woman"), and the work of Jagger/Richards can also be tuneful ("Wild Horses"). But listen to their best-known songs, such as "Like a Rolling Stone" or "Let's Spend the Night Together". They hammer away at you with their chomping, thundering rhythms that almost force you to start stamping your foot or bouncing away on your car seat (I'm sure none of you absolutely civilized people do that, but, just pretend you do.). "Blowin' in the Wind" is another example, as is "Paint It Black." The effect can have mesmeric intensity, when paired with the right lyrics.

Harmonic rock or pop? Try the Beach Boys or Three Dog Night as examples from my youth. The Wreckers or Switchfoot, nowadays.

Classical music can have the same appeal, to a lesser extent because the truly great composers do it all well. But quickly compare Beethoven to Bach to Schubert, and you get the idea immediately.

There are a few people who dislike all music, all kinds. And there are even fewer who love it all equally: melody, harmony and rhythm. Can you guess one example of the latter from the classical world?

Think "A Little Night Music."

___
*According to the Concise OED on my computer, “assumedly” is assuredly a word.


LJ orig.: 12/28/06

"OK, look up 'rant' ... Oh, shoot! I have to log off first!"

Clear and somewhat cold. Beautiful day, which I spent all of indoors, trying to get things done.

Used some Christmas money (thanks!) to buy the latest Compact Oxford English Dictionary. Fifty dollars US for the book and CD combined. My word processor (Corel) once offered an update to the Compact OED for its WordPerfect, but that seems to have expired. So I thought the book and CD would be a nice thing -- I have not had a new dictionary in any form since the second edition of the American Heritage Dictionary in '75 -- also a Christmas gift.

What a disappointment! The definitions are all really short in the book, and the CD will not work in user accounts* (I do not surf or do general work in administrator mode on XP), much less load into WordPerfect. Also, installation was that odd "leave-the-CD-in-the-drive-after-restart" Win95 stuff. I suppose it's for error checking. Can't they just add some "search for errors" right-click radio button after restart? OpenOffice will let you check for possible errors that way. Why won't something that amounts to 20 dollars US?

I'm becoming wary of paid software these days. Except for the software that came with purchased hardware (and that has quirks sometimes), everything I use on my PC is free. Audacity, Winamp, OpenOffice, etc. all work right off the download, assuming you know what you're doing. That's the catch with free software -- it's DIY, for the most part. But it just works! I'm writing this on free software courtesy LiveJournal. Yes, I've had a few issues with it, but I like the DIY nature of the Basic account. I'm a more-than-satisfied customer, and I owe them zip.

This situation is counterintuitive, to say the least. Software makers, it would seem, need to get serious about being customer-friendly, or there's going to be a major turnaround in consumer attitudes. I think the CEOs need to start taking a copy of their new products home with them, installing and running and using them without any "extra" help, and if there's a screwup or major short-circuit, they should get their staffs cracking on making their software products work as users need them to work, out of the box. Forget the old "user friendly" scam! If an English major like me can get his free software to work off the download with no questions asked, hey, anyone can!

(To make matters worse with my new dictionary, I stupidly assumed the plastic CD sleeve was stuck on the book's endpaper with a modern removable glue. Nope! It tore the cheap endpaper almost in half when I tugged at the sleeve, so the dictionary and "companion" CD are not returnable. Yes, clerks do check for that.)

I don't mind paying a reasonable amount for things that work well and reliably. And it's nice to have some free things, too. But to have the paid software be clunky and stupidly designed (if a parent can install the Compact OED on the administrator account but then not be able to allow his or her children to use it on their accounts, too, that's idiotic! What good is a dictionary on an administrator account? What word am I going to look up while running Defragmenter? On? Off?) and then have free software work like a song ... no, this is crazy.

___

*mercurius-21 later found an effective trick to fix the problem (in SP2), as well as improved respect for the COED. Both are found in subsequent posts.

LJ orig.: 12/27/06

The Beat of Black Wings

Clouds rolling in -- back to shirtsleeves. Should be a rainy Christmas.

My first post listed some of my faves (way back in the archives somewhere), and I can't

remember if I included one music fave that has just gotten better with time. It's Joni

Mitchell's controversial album Mingus.

It came out in vinyl while I was still pretty much a "cub" reporter. For those of you who

remember LPs or look at them in re-sale shops, the artwork on many a classic record

stood out. Mingus was no exeception. Full of Joni's paintings of Mingus during his last

year on Earth, it is probably the best laid-out of any of hers (and she's had many a

standout album cover!).

But the music inside was the surprise: it was actually very good. Joni Mitchell took a lot

of heat from rock "critics," fans and even other musicians for turning to jazz-rock. But to

try to write music for the last lyrics written by an avant-garde legend like Charles Mingus

was too much for them, and they all panned it. They saw songs like "I's a Muggin'" as

cliche and numbers like "God Must Be a Boogie Man" as silly. It sounded to them like

she was trying to use a dying jazz great as a prop for her musical ambitions.

But the music is powerful. Much jazz dates quickly because times and tastes change.

Only the best performances survive the test. And Joni Mitchell's Mingus is still good --

check out "The Wolf That Lives in Lindsey" on her greatest "misses" CD. Just open your

mind and listen.

Hejira was my college senior year fave. Dynamic and different, it featured lyrics

designed to impress English lit majors like me. It also featured Weather Report's

Wunderkind bassist -- the equally legendary Jaco Pastorius -- playing bass guitar like it

was a lead guitar! The music is very inventive, but people like my dorm roommate

thought the lyrics were all very pretentious. In later years, I came to agree, at least to a

point.

The album the guys freshman year borrowed to seduce their dates was another Joni fave

of mine: For the Roses. This is the sound that made Joni Mitchell a standard among her

female fans, but I could relate to it as well. Her song about Beethoven (the title track)

included some orchestral and piano writing by the songstress. It was a first for her, I

think. But not the last.

My first working year was 1977. That year, local FM radio played albums every

Wednesday night, without interruption (unheard of in today's commercial environment!).

I remember taping Joni Mitchell's Don Juan's Reckless Daughter all the way through.

They even played a commercial between sides, so you could flip your cassette and not

miss a note! Jaco's on this one, too, and, if anything, he's even better. But Joni's songs

were uneven -- some really good, and some leaving you wondering why they were

recorded at all. One entire side of the double album includes a kind of "concerto" written

by Mitchell, as, in the concept of the album, she's asleep and dreaming while on board a

transcontinental flight.

The concept was pretty good, but the album was not up to it overall. Here are some tracks

I liked: "Cotton Avenue" "Dreamland" and "Off Night, Back Street." I also

thought "Silky Veils of Ardor" was great at the time. But I don't think it wears well today.

Oddly, I never bothered to look at the sleeve art in stores, because I was satisfied with the

cassette I'd made. Several years later, I found the album in a bin of remainders. We called

them "cut-outs" because the sleeve always had a little notch cut out of the corner to tell

retailers to get rid of it for a dollar. I bought it merely because the cassette tape had worn

out. When I got home, I noticed there was a picture of a thin black "pimp" caricature on

the cover! Poor taste, thought I. Then, I realized it was Joni herself in black body makeup

and men's clothes! I'd had no idea (I didn't read the music mags) that people had slammed

the cover art years before as a kind of slur. Joni said it was her alter ego named "Art

Nouveau." OK ... .

The best is last: The Hissing of Summer Lawns. A college chum and rabid Joni fan

hated it so much, he refused to even talk about why. Most of her fans absolutely loathe

the record. One year, again flipping through the "cut-outs", I found a copy and bought it.

It has the best overall work on it, and it wears well through the years. No confessional

love lyrics in this one, but sharp and even handed observation of the LA scene of the day.

Joni's 80s and 90s work was mostly done with synthesizers. Her voice does not go well

with that, in my opinion, and I either sold or gave away all my copies after a listen or

two, and then stopped buying her music altogether. I missed some of her best songs on

religious themes: "Passion Play" and "The Magdalene Laundaries*." I caught them later,

again on her "misses" CD.

I've heard it said kids of the 60's were either Beatles fans or Stones fans, never both. I

was Beatles, myself. And the same could be said about Dylan or Mitchell. I was

obviously Mitchell. My odd reason why in another post.

By the way: her "hits" album has a little secret. If you listen to "The Urge for Goin'" "The

Circle Game" and "Both Sides Now" in sequence you'll hear a theme developing, both

musically and lyrically. Insert "Little Green" from her album Blue in the sequence, and

you'll have the complete story, all neatly developed. I'll let you rip your own tracks and

figure out where to insert "Little Green" and what the story's about. If you listen on good

headphones, you can even hear Joni's voice cracking and choking back sobs.

Hard "hit"ting, and heartbreaking.

___
*I've left several words misspelled, just as they were in the original post. The song about Beethoven is called "Judgment of the Moon and Stars", and my first fave list did not list Mingus.


LJ orig.: 12/21/06

"What, no rabbit? Gimme that hat!"

Clear, starting a little cooler, then a lot cooler as night fell.

What exactly was the Gift of the Magi for which I titled yesterday's post? It has been suggested (I think on some PBS thing I watched maybe last year) that these guys managed to give Christianity's First Family useful items for the first Christmas Day. They would have needed gold for money to finance a future trip to North Africa. The nasty stable air might have given the baby Jesus some breathing problems, so they brought him some incense known for its medicinal effects. And speaking of medicine, myrrh came in two forms: one as an unguent (or something like that) to use as a topical antiseptic, and one as a liquid for use in the bath. Women used liquid myrrh to heal following childbirth in the ancient world. (This is more of my scant research on the topic.) They were considered gifts fit for a king, because kings always want the best stuff around.

But that's not the gift of the Magi for us now. Their story reaches out two millennia to us for another reason, I think. The few details about their journey and adoration experience are telling details, if we take the time to stitch them together. The story becomes a little course of its own in nonlinear thinking. You have to examine your own mistaken preconceptions about the magi themselves, correct the information with linear research, then start connecting some of the dots missing, but left carefully implied, in the narrative. It also helps to develop an intellectual sensitivity (or "instinct") for context, and how to apply that instinct to the facts at hand.

Modern-day magi probably don't interpret dreams, at least not professionally. But think of CSI on TV -- isn't what I described similar to what they do to solve a crime? Does this kind of thing go on in real life? It may very well, though on a certainly less melodramatic level.

By the way, CSI (the second season, I think) is also where I learned something else about magic -- the true definition of the word "abbacadabra." It's the words supposedly in Aramaic (I think) for "Father, Son, and Holy Ghost" with the final "a" in the first two words and initial "a" in the third combining them into one "magic" word.


LJ orig.: 12/20/06

The Gift of the Magi

Clear, slightly cooler. Nice breeze.

I ticked some folks off the other night when I was at a holiday gathering, when I said something about the "myth" of the magi. (I think some other things actually did the ticking, but ... another time.) I've said in earlier posts that I'm a believer, so I don't think the magi are mythical. Or do I?

The New Testament has only two "birth narratives" of Jesus, one in Luke and one in Matthew. The one in Luke is by far the better known: it's the one Linus recites in that "Peanuts" animated TV special. It basically has an archangel appearing to shepherds, announcing the birth of the Messiah. The shepherds then go to Bethlehem to visit Christianity's First Family in the stable.

Matthew's account has "some" wise men from the East traveling to Bethlehem to visit the Christ child. They are following a star (also mentioned in Luke) to lead them to the site. Various things happen and then Matthew says these wise men (magi) eventually find Jesus, Joseph and Mary in a "house." It doesn't say anything about a stable, or about shepherds.

These details don't necessarily conflict. Luke doesn't say how long Jesus and his family had to stay in a stable, with the baby Jesus in the manger (which is basically a feed trough for the livestock). So, they could maybe have found better lodging by the time the Magi arrived.

Matthew doesn't say how many magi there were. The account just says "some." There is no mention of their names, either, or what specific kingdom or kingdoms in the East they came from. It also doesn't say which brought gold, which brought frankincense, and which brought myrrh -- or if any of them were individual gifts.

I did a little (very little) research, and I found that "magi" is a Persian word first found in Greek in Herodotus -- once to describe a Persian family of dream interpreters, and again to describe dream interpreters generally. "Magi" is plural -- "magus" is singular. I also found that astrology was a kind of sideline for many of these dream interpreters, some of whom were advisers to kings and sometimes were entrusted with the king's signet ring, giving them the right to transact business in the name of the king.

This jibes with Matthew's account. He says they came from the East, where a lot of this kind of thing went on; they were following a star; they had to check in with the local king, Herod, to follow diplomatic protocol; and they realized Herod was playing them when they had a dream in common.

So the "myth" I was referring to is the manger scene many of us have in our heads -- the manger, the Christ child, Mary, Joseph, animals, shepherds and magi. I'm not saying it didn't happen -- it just probably didn't happen that way. Shepherds had to follow the flocks, and the original group had probably moved on by the time the magi got there. We really don't know.

By the way, there's a Persian miniature (I think it illustrates some kind of manuscript) somewhere, painted by some Moslem artist in the 18th century. It depicts the 'adoration of the Magi', but it has all kinds of people in the scene, women and men, in addition to the Madonna and Child and some magi. Mary is holding Jesus in her lap, just outside a big, boxlike tent-type house. Mary is sitting on a pillow Oriental style, but she's dressed as if she were an English lady in Tudor or maybe Elizabethan times. Magi and others are also in the costume of that period.

Odd.

___
*Wikipedia has an informative article entitled "Magi". I saw no mention of dream interpretation in it, however. That was just my take on it, and -- to a certain extent -- still is.


LJ orig.: 12/19/06

Swingin' with Sinatra

The Boston song from yesterday's post was "Peace of Mind." The lyric I used in the title of the post was from the same band's "Hitch a Ride." Oddly, that group was one of the more commercially oriented bands of the era, but its songs had lyrics about "dropping out" of the typical American dream. (Frankly, I was hooked on Joni Mitchell's Hejira at the time.)

To try and get the hooks from both of the above Boston songs out of my head (completely from memory, playing over and over like a loop), I'm listening to something completely different: Frank Sinatra's Come Fly With Me album from the 50s. Smooth as glass. The cut "It's Nice to Go Trav'ling" is an unexpected gem.

I learned what "hooks" were when I started selling records in the mid-80s. A lot of the commerical music of that time was very "hooky" in the sense that it had a lot of hooks in each and every song. I learned that some hooks are musical. They are slightly off-key notes, slightly offbeat rhythms, or other little gimmicks to keep the song playing in your head, as if your mind is trying to "correct" the music. One of the musicians who worked with us showed me one of the more interesting hooks on a little Casio keyboard we were selling then. I don't want to mention the band's name, but it was a huge heavy metal act at the time. Their biggest song had a chorus with only two chords in it. The musician showed me the chords on the keyboard: they were both two-note chords right next to each other on the keyboard. He said to play it on the guitar fretboard only required moving one finger. It was some minor-key thing with a kind of head-drill effect that was unforgettable, in a bad way. That's why all the kids I worked with (I was older than almost every other employee then) all wanted to hear something completely different once the store's doors closed for the night, or during the afternoons, when the customer traffic was light. I was stuck on the more melodic, easy-on-the ears stuff they all hated. But one time, during an all-night inventory session, I brought one of my Charlie Haden records. They couldn't believe it! (Haden was Ornette Coleman's bass player.)

The Boston hooks that hang me up are more psychological: the lead singer is wailing with emotion at portions of the lyrics that aren't all that compelling. It's odd to hear it, especially in the involuntary-memory-loop-phase thing (Sinatra is doing a good job of killing it with "April in Paris."). In fact, none of the Boston lyrics are particularly compelling, at least to me (I guess I'm comparing them to the likes of Sammy Cahn and Vernon Duke now playing in my ears).

As far as I'm concerned, hooks are OK, if they're not laid on too thick and actually mean something in the song. It's part of the sincerity I like to feel in music. (Billy May's tasty brass sounds are tickling my ears now on "Brazil.") In rock or pop or hip-hop, if you can hook me with something that a) I like and b) fits the music or lyrics thematically, you've got me. The handclaps in "London Bridge" are irresistible, for instance. The entire number is built around them, and it makes Fergie sound like she's in some kind of house party or club romp. So the hook there is part of the overall theme. (The handclaps in Fiona Apple's "Tymps {The Sick in the Head Song}" are even more effective, partly because they're so unexpected.)

Anyway, something to listen for the next time you click on the iPod. ("I Love Paris" -- oh, man!)


LJ orig.: 12/16/06

"Gonna hitch a ride, Head for the other side ... ."

Kind of warm, clouds in and out. 

Finally looked up Holiday Inn and, as expected, I was wrong. The movie did feature the song "White Christmas" as sung by Bing Crosby. But it wasn't the same movie as White Christmas (the movie). The second movie was a complete reworking of the first, not the same movie retitled or remade. Apparently, according to one listing, Holiday Inn contains a scene with some offensive "minstrelsy" (to put it mildly) as a plot device, which is probably why I've never seen it on TV or anything.

On to tonight's topic: I've spent some time over the last few weeks (off line) wondering "what might have been." I guess that's normal whenever you're facing a crossroad of one type or another: you want to look at previous crossroads and wonder whether you made the right choices: not to get married (just to "settle down"), sticking with journalism (even while unhappy at it), etc. I wonder how much cowardice played a role in those and other "decisions" I'd made. Self-justification played a huge role, that I've known for a while. But the cowardice behind it bothers me more now, because I realize how many possibilities other roads would have opened up, had I positively chosen them. I've stumbled along roads less traveled by, and it has indeed made all the difference, not necessarily in a good way. But there were forks in those roads I took that I also passed up, just basically ignored, because they looked risky, even "dangerous" (to my ego, if I took a chance and lost). But since I've lost at much of the game of life anyway, I can't help but wonder if some of those forks were worth trying, just to see. Yeah, what might have been.

I don't feel like a "loser," and I don't feel that much self-pity (though I am quite familiar with that particular form of cowardice). I feel I've won things like character and self-respect that I actually gained by "losing" this or that "life game". And I've gained enough maturity (mostly through becoming a fairly regular church goer for the last 18 years or so) to see self-pity for what it is (a really sick form of self-righteousness). What's bothering me is that I tried to cut some kind of deal between me and society: I'll try and play your game, world, but I get to be me when I'm by myself. You'd think that wouldn't be such a bad thing: in fact, on the surface, it sounds kind of normal. But for me, it was as corrosive as a Brillo pad on butter.

You're either you or you're faking it: you can't have it both ways, or fake it M-F 9-5, and be "you" nights and on the weekends. Living honestly in society involves compromise, tact, and patience -- among many other things. But, if you think about it, you can't compromise if you have a weak sense of self. You're not compromising anything that way, you're just giving in. And If "giving in" is done bit-by-bit, you just get worn down to nothing. Or, when the corrosion eats its way to your core, and you yelp in protest, suddenly you're a "rebel."

No, you can't lead this kind of life because it's a double life, I think. You've got to be honest, if to no one but yourself. So I guess I end up with a tru-ism: "To thine own self, be true ... ."

While out driving on an errand the other day, heard a song on the radio that was big when I was a senior in college. It was by Boston, and it was a kind of anti-life-plan anthem of that era. I forget the title. A lot of my chums were pretty aimless back then, though others clearly had a professional track laid out but wore messed-up jeans and long hair to look cool. I think I unconsciously cast my lot with the aimless variety, and that has proved to have been a bad thing. If any of you out there are like this now and are interested in my "bloodied but unbowed" opinion, here it is: get some life counseling from somebody competent and trustworthy. If you need some kind of aptitude test, or just some honest feedback on what you have to offer, get it. Cross-check all of it with other sources you trust. Affirm your own sense of who you are, find opportunities to test that as a theory of "who you really are," and accept your own final feedback as the most valid of all. You may lose a starting step or two in the rat race, but if you do it -- and avoid frittering away that time playing phoney "finding yourself" games -- you will gain in the long run by getting some real feedback and making some constructive self-criticism first: I'm confident of that.


LJ orig.: 12/15/06

Don't click ... no, there, no, maybe ... Blooey! Sigh.

Yesterday I said playing computer games was complete waste of time. (I was talking about so-called "board" games, like Solitaire or Tetris, instead of 3-D games that I have no experience with whatever.) But I don't think they are a complete waste of time. The game I cited as addictive yesterday -- Minesweeper -- is a good example.

In Minesweeper, you have to click on various square buttons laid out on a square grid. Behind each of these buttons lies one of three things: a blank space, a space with a number, or a mine. You hit the mine, and -- blooey! -- game over. In the beginner's version, the grid is 9X9 with ten mines laid along it. The game will automatically reveal all the blank squares in a certain connected series, if you click on the proper one. If you get a number, that's how many mines are on squares touching that numbered square in any of six directions. For instance, if you click on a square and get a "5", that means only three of the adjacent squares are mine-free. When you click on a mine, the game ends and all the mines are revealed, with the one you hit highlighted in red.

What's fascinating about Minesweeper is that most of the mines (in the beginner's version, anyway) are either isolated or are in some symmetrical geometric pattern (a square, a triangle, a diagonal, etc.). But some are laid out asymmetrically, like a constellation. Those are the hardest to fathom, because they are harder to visualize and thus more easily trap the player.

Asymmetric forms in the game remind me of asynchronous experience in human behavior. Most human behavior is phasic, follows a logical pattern, and thus can be predicted or anatomized in some way by, say, therapists or detectives. But some human behavior can't. It's asynchronous, extralogical and perhaps even preconceptual -- 'instinctive' might be a better term.

This behavior is mirrored by nonlinear thinking, which, to me, is the most fascinating kind. It can be the inspiration behind great art, or monstrous criminality. Even more so, when the thinker begins to make connections, symmetrical and logical, among seemingly unrelated events in the asynchronous series. In other words, when great artists or monstrous criminals begin to make order out of apparent chaos, something big is about to happen.

It just seems to me that the more you try to rein this "power" in, to control it, the more monsters you make -- because this nonlinear thinking and asynchronous behavior will squeeze through the cracks somehow, like a poison weed through the concrete. But the more you respect the process in a person, let it develop naturally, the more I think you're likely to get the art. It may be that a lot depends on the person doing the creating (and this is a region in which norms of "good character" may or may not apply -- some bad persons have made great art, some good ones can turn to unspeakable crime) and a lot depends on the environment that person is working in (my qualification about "norms" applies here, too).

It just seems to me we're a very long way from understanding the inner nature* the human spirit and how a society can help foster more Ludwig Beethovens than Ted Bundys. I don't know if you can -- or it's even desirable to -- make "more" Beethovens numerically. There's only going to be a certain small percentage with that potential in any given population. But the trick, it seems to me, is to make more of that percentage aim its talents toward creating art and less toward wreaking havoc.

What's that got to do with Minesweeper? I don't know. See what you can come up with. I'll have my (suggested) answer tomorrow.

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*I left "of" omitted in the first line of the penultimate paragraph, just as it was in the original.


LJ orig.: 12/09/06

Don't Click That One! Blooey! Aw ...

Cold, cold, cold. Windy, clear, and cold.I am utterly addicted to Minesweeper. I used to think people who played computer games were wasting their time, and that I was above doing it. I was right about the first point, wrong about the second. I am not above doing that, and I love it. 

I used to be addicted to Tetris on my old Win95 box, and that's the main reason I recycled the machine, to try and break me of my habit. It didn't work. I long for Tetris to come back (I still use a widget version -- but it ain't the same as the classic), as well as Mah Jongg (wasn't called that, but ...*). But I have Minesweeper, and FreeCell and Spider Solitaire to console me. Substitute addictions, you might say. I got bored with Hearts. Too much like light beer (burp!).

What's odd is that the games I've gotten hooked on have reflected where I am in life, or at least where I feel I am. When I played Tetris over and over, my life (if you could have called it that) was falling to pieces. My entire life "fiction" was being rewritten, and I wasn't the editor. Not even close. But playing Tetris soothed me (a little), because it felt like I was maybe putting back the pieces of life into some order as they fell to me, but I couldn't predict the outcome. Naturally, I had to actually start confronting my life eventually, but I had to see where some of the pieces would fall first, before I could begin the reconstruction project.

Minesweeper is attractive now, I think, because I often feel the insecurity of being in a "minefield" metaphorically, as I test new things and venture sloooowly into uncharted territory. This is hard, very hard for me, because I used work for so long as an excuse to avoid living, that I ... well, fell apart. Now I have to confront who I am (what's left, anyway) and what I need to be doing to be that person. You'd think it would be easy, and it might be, if not for other people. Other people, the relationships we depend on and the community we seek, are factors in that process. And there are people who oppose you in any effort. You have to deal with that too, and not with malice. Sometimes your opponents can teach you more about yourself than your friends can. And friends can teach a lot!

Anyway, that's why I think I'm hooked on Minesweeper. The dual (at least) layer of strategy (the mine patterns themselves, and where the computer is placing them to try and fool you, for instance) is really the attraction -- and the repulsion. Attraction and repulsion? Yes, I think you gotta have both, if you really want to be obsessed, my friends. To me, obsession can be a good thing, or a bad thing. Which one you get certainly depends on what (or who) you're obsessed with, but it may depend also on your attitude toward your obsession. If you are so obsessed with having an obsession, it can swamp you. But if can laugh at yourself while your obsessing (or maybe after a round or two), you may just make it.

Am I right? Heck, I don't know. Isn't that what the experiment called 'life' is all about?

Ooops. Blooey!

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*The Mah Jongg game in Windows 95 was called Taipei.


LJ orig.: 12/08/06

Ring-Ding-A-Ling, Ring-Ding-A-Ling, Ring ...

Mix of clouds and sun, a little warmer. LiveJournal's holiday theme is pretty neatly done, don't you think? 

I wrote in an earlier post that I think Thanksgiving had become a forced holiday, like Christmas, in this, Our Modern World. But I don't think it has to be that way. Society's expectations can put so much pressure on us to "enjoy" the holidays like Bing Crosby or something (I think the original movie was called Holiday Inn and was rechristened -- pardon the pun -- White Christmas later, after the famous Irving Berlin song featured in the movie. Or maybe it was two separate movies. I'll look it up*.). An old TV series called Thirtysomething premiered when I turned -- ulp! -- thirty-two, I think. One of the better episodes (often copied since) had a disastrous Thanksgiving celebration by the Thirtysomething gang, with the women trying to cook a frozen turkey an hour before dinner, and the bird falls out of the oven still frozen solid with a thud. They also broke somebody's mother's china (I think) and the men hurt each other playing "touch" football so badly one had to go to the emergency room. But come Christmas time, the conflicts generated by tension over expecting more holiday pressure prompted one of the lead characters to research her husband's Judaism, and -- with his sister's help -- surprise him with what looked like (to this Gentile) a traditional Hannukah celebration. I'm not necessarily promoting orthodoxy here (I don't want to promote anything), just suggesting a little creative thinking and relaxing into the season.
To me, "expectations" are the real joy killers. They will never be met for any holiday, or any day, unless you set the expectations so low they roll into reverse and you're happy they weren't met. I prefer "anticipation" of what might be good (the better to enjoy a sense of possibility, if nothing else) and what might go wrong (the better to avert it).
So hey, enjoy.

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*I corrected the movie information in a later post.


LJ orig.: 12/06/06

Your Experience May Differ ...

Cold, clear and winter -- at last. Full moon blazing.

In my experience, there's a third character in dreams that's hard to miss. While the first two I've mentioned -- the dream director and the dream ingenue -- can be subtle, even absent in the dream experience, the dream guide is pretty easy to spot. He or she is the one who "gets in your face" and tells you stuff, or indicates something important (maybe) to you in some way. The character of Toulouse-Lautrec (played by John Leguziamo) in the movie Moulin Rouge! represents the dream guide to the absinthe-intoxicated writer (played by Ewan McGregor). The dream guide sometimes "parents" the dreamer, and may even be the dreamer's real-life parent. I've had all sorts of people as dream guides, myself. Some weren't even human.
Based on my experience, these three dream characters I've mentioned may not be in all dreams, and may not be obvious. But, from what I've learned from dreams I've had, they are usually apparent in really lucid dreams. I'm not mentioning all this as a checklist or some set of absolutes -- just something to think about as you dream (yes, you are in control of what you choose to experience in dreams).
As a coincidence, I spotted a real buy on used DVD's at the local rental shop. One of them was Stay, starring McGregor and Naomi Watts. I thought it was really good -- and much in it to ponder for us dreamers (it's rated R for a reason -- way too intense for children, sensitive teens, etc. in my opinion). The acting was strong and professional, but the real treat is the movie itself -- a high-quality product that didn't 'stay' long in theatrical release. But I really liked it. Even the credit roll was good!

One more thing: if you are reading this and the previous two entries and you are undergoing some kind of therapy or treatment -- do not take what I've written seriously in any way. I am not a licensed anything, just an ordinary human with a Live Journal account and an English lit degree from a US college. And even if you're not in therapy or counseling, do not take anything I've written seriously or literally in any way*. The disclaimer "strictly for entertainment purposes" definitely applies to this entry and my entire LJ account. If you are in treatment, it's my hope your therapist or counselor will help you explore any dreams you may have. I have benefited enormously by it, but you may not. Listen to your therapist, not to me.


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*This was the first version of a disclaimer I iterated many times in the course of my posting.


LJ orig.: 12/04/06 (estimate)