So I’m reading Pynchon’s new novel – which includes lots of pot – and stumbled upon this. It appears to be fairly legit actually. It is one man’s account of meeting Pynchon in the 60’s (a decade “Tom” is obsessed with, as you might know) and smoking a fat joint. It’s really not that interesting unless you are one of those people who adores the very silly shenanigans surrounding Pynchon’s anonymity. Read if you are are one of those folk…
Man, I aught to make a tumblog of Herzog quotes or something. This guy has been real funny the last couple days. He’s got a little film seminar in LA next January. You can go if you want to fork over $1500 and if Werner lets you. He’s also the admissions office to this thing, and probably the copywriter for the website here are a couple choice quotes.
Censorship will be enforced. There will be no talk of shamans, of yoga classes, nutritional values, herbal teas, discovering your Boundaries, and Inner Growth.
Rouge Film School is not for the faint hearted; it is for those who have traveled on foot, who have worked as bouncers in sex clubs, or as wardens in a lunatic assylums, for those who are willing to learn about lockpicking or forgien shooting permits in countries not favoring their projects. In short: for those with a sense of poetry. For those who are pilgrams. For those who can tell a story to four year old children and hold their attention. For those who have a fire within.
Prior working experience, diplomas, credits are of minor importance.
Related, but more reflective, will be a reading list: if possible, read Virgil’s “Georgics”, read “Hemingway’s “The short happy life of Francis Macomber”, The Poetic Edda, translated by Lee M. Hollander (in particular the Prophecy of the Seeress), Bernal Diaz del Castillo “True History of the Conquest of New Spain”.
And another one about the time where Herzog turned down an invitation to be a guest in Nick Cage’s house. I like this sentance a lot.
We would not be two men meeting unshaven in the morning over coffee. VIA
“Zoshchenko’s technique is that of the skaz, the oral tale. The tale is supposed to have a moral, instructional point, to illustrate something; that is the excuse for telling and listening. But the point gets lost on the way: the story teller is caught up in the story itself or simply succombs to the delight of having an audience. It is himself he expresses, and not the moral. Either he loses it completely or arrives at a conclusion as unexpected for him as it is for the audience, or he tacks it on by force majeure, exposing either his own clay feet or the insubstantiality of all conclusions, or both.”
-Sidney Monas
This story isn’t the best example of that, or close to Zoshchenko’s best, although it is an enjoyable little thing. I chose it mainly becuase it is much easier to transcribe 3 pages of text than it is 40. That and Shiv asked for more stories 
Poverty (Zoshchenko, early 1900’s)
Nowadays, brothers, what is the most fashionable word there is, eh?
Nowadays, the most fashionable word that can be is, of course, electrification.
I won’t argue that it isn’t a matter of immense importance to light up Soviet Russia with electricity. Nevertheless, even this matter has its shady side. I am not saying, comrades, that it costs a lot. It costs nothing more expensive than money. That’s not what I’m talking about.
This is what I mean.
This is just to say that Nick Becker has a review of Post Grad on Tiny Mix Tapes and that you will most likely be seeing other reviews of other films by the same man on other occasions soon. Keep an eye out. I’m so proud.
A good hour (from a year ago) on KQED on the cocktail renaissance with De Groff, Haigh, and local saloon proprietor H. Ehrmann. Niche, but made for a larger audience. Talks about history, digging up old drinks and the difficulty of pricing. These are men who love the craft, and because of that it’s fun to listen to.
I have been running a few blogs (with many posts from me when I was in high school, if you are into that) and felt as if i would share them with all you chaps. One is on film and the other is on books. On either side of the coin you get my immediate, brief and entirely uneducated/spasmodic thoughts on the dvd I just ejected or the book I have just begrudgingly closed. All entries take ten minutes or less, so don’t judge me (or my grammar).
I just found this, downloaded it and am listening to it on the porch of my beautiful new home. It’s good. Twangy and bouncy and very you know, global (relevant!) and really really really good. I know nothing about them, but they fit in really well, circa 2009. Who knows where it’ll end up with the H Column, but I’m excited to have found it.
If you liked the film related posts I’ve been giving to you the last couple weeks, great, this is for you. An hour long docu-essay on 80s blockbusters and how they mirrored the times. It’s sharp. And a little nostalgic. And good. Basically, it’ll make you reexamine films you take for granted.
Here’s the rest:
Do check out these guys’ blog The House Next Door. Its not great all the time, but they’re still some of the best blogger/critics around.
1. Absence of lengthy verbiage of a political-social-economic nature
2. Total Objectivity
3. Truthful descriptions of persons and objects
4. Extreme brevity
5. Audacity and originality: flee the stereotype
6. Compassion
Dutifully transcribed by yours truly from the Pevear/Volokhonsky…
The Huntsman (Chekhov 1885)
A sultry and stifling day. Not a cloud in the sky…The sun-scorched grass looks bleak, hopeless: there may be rain, but it will never be green again…The forest stands silent, motionless, as if its treetops were looking off somewhere or waiting for something.
A tall, narrow-shouldered man of about forty, in a red shirt, patched gentleman’s trousers, and big boots, lazily saunters along the edge of the clearing. He saunters down the road. To his right are green trees, to his left, all the way to the horizon, stretches a golden sea of ripe rye…His face is red and sweaty. A white cap with a straight jockey’s visor, apparently the gift of some generous squire, sits dashingly on his handsome blond head. Over his shoulder hangs a game back with crumpled black grouse in it. The man is carrying a cocked double-barreled shotgun and squinting his eyes at his old, skinny dog, who runs ahead, sniffing about in the bushes. It is quiet, not a sound anywhere…Everything alive is hiding from the heat.
Let’s look at the state of things. 2009 in music. I’m in the camp that there hasn’t been a great album yet this year. A lot of musicians I love have come out with albums. Many of them have been good. But everyone of them, from Akron/Family to Zoot Woman, hasn’t been able to keep my attention for very long. It’s a good year for new bands with cool new sounds, but I wouldn’t put them in any pantheon just yet.
Anyways this is all leading up to me saying I really like this album. It’s catchy, grown up pop. The production, done by Studio, is immaculate. It all sounds so effortless. I listened to it 4 times the first day I got it. Better than every other new album I’ve put on here this year, besides, maybe, my favorite album from a couple days ago. It’s nice to see 2009 turning around, even if it is a little late.
