level 3, mark to model

i had been writing a ton of stuff about investing, ideas, strategies and so forth, for some pals - all with the disclaimer that i am a god awful investor - but as these pals are newer in the game than me, they might benefit from my tales of financial woes. so there are much stuff - not aided by, as is my fashion, non succinct writing style - regarding lessons painfully learned and my evolving investing thoughts. all the while, i have been trying, by sharing my thoughts, to pick the brain of others who - from the little i've heard - have been doing okay with their cash money in the game. which is to say that i had hoped to accelerate my blog writing by a copy and paste from the long ass emails i have occasionally or habitually sent.

i had targeted some emails i wrote on p/e ratio, which is, despite suffering from many and major drawbacks as an analytical tool, is one of the most basic and required item for investment research. eh, basic stuff but not quite elementary enough if i were to say anything at all about investing. new material instead: some general throught points, some actionable steps, but obviously, it is your money, do your own homework.

1. max out your contribution in whatever your employer offers in term of retirement plan: 401, 403, pension, whatever. your employer might match to a certain point, but max out anyway - even where your salary level/grade might be such that day to day living may seem a tad tight - whatever goes into the retirement account will not be too much missed if it never enters the disposable cash stream. that's the way those type of things go.

2. get an IRA (investment retirement account) and max out on the yearly contribution. whether it is traditional or roth versions, it is silly not to have one and not to maximize contribution. the way the tax system works, an IRA is free money. free. money. really. so go get it. and preferably, roth over traditional, or roth over traditional as much as possible.

3. if you have been in the work force world for a little bit, consolidate your various, if any, retirement plan stragglers to a rollover IRA. it's okay to let your employer handle your investment while you are working for that employer, because normally you got no choice. but you want control once you leave.

4. do 1 to 3 asap. that’s the way investing works, via compounded returns. a hella lot of it is tied to timing: the mo' sooner the mo' better. and do not worry about retirement savings interfering with possible future home purchase, higher education decisions, there are some penalty-free early withdrawal options for certain alternative investments, which includes first home and tuition.

5. choose an age appropriate portfolio mix (and to a lesser degree, personal risk tolerance appropriate too). the younger, the more risk that can be taken. or, if you not old, bring more international, more small caps and more emerging markets flavors to your portfolio; if you old, less international, less small caps and less emerging markets.

6. with regards to selecting the right vehicles in your portfolio, unless you have time, interest and attention to do a hella lot of research, choose mutual funds or ETFs that track indexes. picking the right companies for stocks involves a lot of work. picking the right mutual funds involves a lot of work. picking something that tracks a market index is mucho easier.

the right company or mutual fund will or should out pace the market index. unfortunately, with regards to picking the right individual stock(s), the reward comes with considerable risk; and i don't got much more to add if that is your choice aside from be careful and good luck. mutual funds wise, in any given year, roughly 75% underperforms, and that 75% likely changes year to year. some homework might turn up the right fund(s) among the other 25%, so good luck as well with that if that is where you want to go.

index trackers are not ideal if your plan is to smoke the financial markets and make thousands or millions galore. but at the same time, these type of funds will hardly ever do worse than the market. why? because the sole function of index tracking is to replicate the performance of the market. oh, the reason the market - or the equity markets, which is what i am talking about when i say market – is important is because in the long run equities (companies) are the best wealth generation for us everyday folks in terms of investment. so while there may be better opportunities within (and outside) the market, at the minimum, investing in market performance is mighty decent; and will help in one important aspect: prevent you from making bonehead mistakes as you probably won't know enough (especially when you are starting out) to avoid them.

and when considering index tracking funds, between mutual funds or ETFs (or exchange traded funds), ETFs are better chiefly because they cost less to run (and thus you get a slightly better return), have some considerable tax based advantages, and trade like stocks on the stock exchange so they are a little easier to follow.

to be more specific, in many cases the vanguard run ETFs offer a better value (and as a result, performance) than comparable ETFs: VV for USA large caps, VEU for rest of developed world markets, and VWO for emerging markets. you can opt for some sort of total global ETF, but this three headed ETF alternative allows you some personal allocation customization leeway with little effort. obviously, do your homework.

7. always, always, always reinvest dividends. that’s the way investing works; you gots to compound your returns.

8. buy and hold. do not trade. if you were so smart to time your trades, well, would you have to really read this far in here? equity markets is the best place for us main street josephs and josephines in the long ass haul, so you have to think long ass hold for your investment horizon. it is possible to ignore the daily financial market turbulence, and advisable.

9. fine. assuming you feel you are all that, for mutual funds: minimally, check the fund's historical performance (even if past performance ain't the ideal indicator for future performance); the person managing the fund to double make sure he or she helmed the fund during that historical performance and is still managing the fund; the associated fees/expenses (look for no fees and low expenses, obviously); the content in the fund's portfolio (no harm in peeking at the companies in the fund); and repeat until you find attractive mutual funds for US large cap, international markets, and emerging markets (and probably small cap too). morningstar.com is a not bad place to start your homework. and don't forget, i said minimally.

10. fine. assume you feel you are even more all that, for stocks: minimally, lower risk by making sure your prospective companies have some competitive advantages such as growing revenues, growing earnings, strong margins (all relative to competitors), high barriers to entry in their markets, expanding markets, dominant positions in those markets, good inventory turnover, low (or no) long term debt, and so forth. and look over management ownership levels as a reflection of their confidence/commitment to the company. obviously most companies will not have all these factors/advantages, but the more advantages your companies have, the more better. and you need to repeat until you got several companies across industries and geographic areas. or look for good diversification; you can mix it up with mutual funds, ETFs, and stocks depending on the workload you think you can put up with. by the way, competitive advantages do not guarantee anything, but at the same time, it should lend much, much more stability, less sensitivity to exterior influences to your companies and better chance of outperforming. you also have to make sure you figure out all the wall street ebonics like P/E, ROE, debt to equity ratio (yo!), as well as hopefully inspect financial statements and conference calls. don't forget, i said minimally.

11. if you do not have a broker, get a reputable online discount broker, like schwab, etrade, or similar ilk. it is tough to believe i know, but the 20th century is over, and lots of productive things can be done online.

12. most of the above applies to non retirement or personal type accounts. if you got a job and make an okay salary or have some cash money stashed under the mattress, consider investing it. invest an amount you can stomach a drop (hopefully temporarily) of 20%-50% in value, or even an entire lost. there are several places and vehicles that allow you to make smaller investments if you cannot start off with a huge chunk of change. and smaller periodic contribution, or dollar cost averaging, is a good way to start personal investing while reducing risk some.

shit, this was not too non succinct. well, this is about the bulk of what i got to write about investing for ultra newbies. the main gist of is, go do it and be careful. these modern times make it easy to get more information and to ramp up the learning curve. so if you aren't caught up, get caught up. what i have offered i hope is something of a starting guideline point. of course, if you got any specific questions, whoever you happen to be, i'll definitely write something back - keeping in mind god awful, mistake prone investor track record - if you ask. and i suppose i can always copy and paste off of this. so big woop.

impromptu "bonus" part 2? sure.


part 2s


time's up!

or, now you'll finally know the thing you hadn't cared about knowing for over 2 months.

exciting!

lise meitner said it.

Boycott

I had been intending to write a certain something for a long, long time. And since I have not for whatever reason got that certain something written, uh, there is always the write about what I intend to write option. Here goes!

A classic flick, albeit unseen for now by me, is Max Ophuls' Letters from an Unknown Woman. That flick gots a probably super remake friendly premise because while I haven't seen Ophuls' movie, though if Letters played anywhere nearby I would for sure try to go catch it, unless of course it had played anywhere nearby already and I hadn't tried or just plain hadn't seen it, then if it played anywhere nearby again, and hopefully soon, this time I will really try for sure to catch it, it's already been remade. A Chinese movie English-titled not coincidentally Letters from an Unknown Woman directed by, also lead actress, Xu Jinglei is a decent very recent remake example. Probably there are any numbers of others that updates Ophuls' flick (or the Stefan Zweig source novel) or draw ideas, themes, structure and other such larceny. The remake I like best, however, gives credit to neither Ophuls nor Zweig despite the clear and ready resemblances, but which instead claims to be based on a work by Japanese writer Jiro Asada, a novel/story of some sort - I could not find out which exactly or much else about that Asada source material, not even from the www,(1) except for the novel's/story's title - titled Love Letter, which, I should state here because the internet don't make things clearer, has nada to do with Shunji Iwai's, as many likely will attest, though not me only because I haven't seen, magnificent 90's touchstone Japanese movie also titled Love Letter, the idea for which is from Iwai, but which I also cannot track down whether it was originally a novel, story, screenplay, whatever. The remake I like best, which claims to be conceived from a wholly independent source, though maybe that Jiro Asada Love Letter source was influenced by Ophuls or Zweig's work - which by the way, another Asada novel, an epic work, served as the basis for When the Last Sword Is Drawn, one of my most favorite recent samurai picture (direction by Yojiro Takita) – because I rather agree with others who find it very Letters from an Unknown Woman-like, even though, as I have said, I have not seen the Ophuls' movie (or read the source novel), as just minimal understanding the bare Letters premise, the correlation seems more than coincident, is Korean New Wave highpoint Song Hae-sung's Failan. Failan is a super terrific K flick, even if by sole virtue that it is not overlong, which, I don't know why, is a curse burdening much of Korea's movie making industry, or I can guess but not in much of an authoritative manner - Koreans hate editors? - except of course, Failan is filled with so many other delights, wonders, scales and heights beyond its pacing and directorial efficiency.(2)

Which is to say that I envisioned the piece to be titled Letter to an Unknown Woman, a sort of play on the classic flick's title. Technically difficult to pull off because a letter to a unknown person? Sheesh, awkward. But the previous letter thing I had written was so, much, fun, I had intended to revisit that well.

But of course, and I would have to start more or less confessing, it ain't an unknown woman. Awkward but possible though perhaps outside my abilities, writing to an ideal imaginary woman – which would be the natural implication if it were an unknown woman - doesn't strike me as meaningful as writing to an idealized, though I will argue no less imaginary and unknown, woman – which in fact is what or who I have plans to make the subject. Or the difference is that an imagined ideal woman, if conceived at all, would be one that is or possesses x, y, and z charms, features, and habits; whereas an idealized woman would certainly have some aspects of the desired x, y, and z-ness yet where she might be deficient in other x, y, z parts and not just deficient but deficient in a way that is wholly incompatible to my sensibility, and if anything would only end up makes her more appealing/longed for, even planting the seeds to reforming or modifying my sensibilities, that's something interesting. I mean, it's more interesting in what it (can/may) says about the writer/me, the world, the inner world, and that sort of mumbo jumbo. It's twisting that particular person who is not the ideal, but through blindness and illogic making her so that might be so fun. Or, more or less, it applies here, now.

The intended titular unknown woman would be, um, let's name her T for now. In the most technical sense it cannot be said that T is unknown as I met her about a year ago at some soft-lit, disco-blasted club/lounge in a somewhere neighborhood that stockpiled such establishments, one right after another; if such a thing existed as infatuation at first sight, well, I have been infatuated with her for a year, unless of course that time I met her was over a year, in which case, it could very well be as it sort of seems well over a year, maybe even two years, then I have been infatuated with T for a year or years. But the point is however long the association, and the fact that we have met, does not mean that I know her. T is still every bit mysterious. In one sense, it is easy for me to feel that way because my general attitude is to assume everyone is unknown and mysterious and take him or her as he or she is while he or she is present and accounting before me. I try to avoid prejudgment, and that's one of the simplest ways to do so. Another sense is the perception that space is infinite, as much as there is new and more to be learned reaching outward, the same applies while looking at thing inward/closer. Either way (and I can come up with more rationale) knowing of her is not identical to a claim of knowledge. Meeting several times since that year or years ago day does not change that, not helped by talking very little with her during the intervening time, other than enough to know she is candy all over sweetness.

Or actually, I had of late revised to start off with something to the effect of: "T, you weren't there." Because I was somewhere out in the city late at night one night, and I guess T wasn't there. Which lead to noticing that she wasn't there and what expectation I had or should/n't have for her to be there, and how long it has been since she and I were at the same place, and those such commonplace observations/obsessions. The point being that there was no reason for her to show up that night nor for me to expect her to, and yet when she wasn't there, well, she was not there. In fact, she had not been there wherever there happened to be for some time; I had tried to resist saying I miss her, but, "I miss you, T." The thing about good luck and miraculous happenings, when it does not happen, does it noticeably does not happen? I was surprised not to see her, yet not surprised because I wouldn't have an idea when or why she would appear. But when she does not, it totally sucks. For not-to-get-into-here reasons, now surprise, good luck and miracles are my allies to getting to see her. See, pretty smooth way to lay out some of the obsessive and compulsive themes I got on plate.

I had a bunch of filler about how I tried to get with T but by having zero game the hooking up has not happened, (feeling slightly optimistic) yet. And somewhere in that bunch of material somehow a hopefully gracefully transitions to this: something something the best/main/only thing I want/hope from T is her conditional love. The gist of which is that unconditional love, what the hell is that suppose to mean? That you want your lover to be unconditionally in love with you? I don't get it. Even if you are - okay, I mean a hypothetical you, not you you. Okay, instead, I mean why would I want my lover to be unconditionally in love with me. What if I am an underachiever, lazy, stupid, and all unrepentantly so? What if I am a failure? Or get flabby? I hardly figure such docility as to ignore or not even notice to be a highly prized virtue. I hardly figure being undeserving to be that which lovely T deserves. Short of pure whim, T can (must?) test all those minutia of her impatience, intolerances, and, why not, indelicacies against any and all parts of me, test against the gratifications of her present, the worries of a future, and all those standards hoisted by her memories. I would only want her most conditional love.

Which is frightening because whether I would be acquitted if T judged me, now there is a fucked up question. Underachieving, lazy, stupid, but repentantly so? - moment of greatness flickers; the footman snickers? I do feel - and I am not asking for sympathy - I have spent so much time failing, or even worse, spent so much time not positioning myself to fail. Okay, the whole conditional love idea was something I toyed with for a piece of a poem, and god, that's not leaving the ground either. So I thought I'll squeeze it for my Letter to an Unknown Woman thing. But in regards to love, I had this sketched out early on to sort of quickly summarize my so-called attempt to capture T's attention:

There is nothing in my personal history that prevents me from accepting that I cannot make someone who does not love me fall in love with me.

Or "love" is too strong of a word. Or is it too weak? Love has the most meaning if it can be fallen easily into. God, enough about l-o-v-e. That word leads only to a pitfall.

Which is to say my intention, from the beginning, was not to talk about that word. And as well, that self-directed negativity just above? my failures and whatever, that's going to be a boycott too, it's unproductive and D-pressing. I am not perfect, that is not (by itself) a fault. Imperfection, as a rule, is a glory. But it is yet true that if I were to be tested now by T, I would be stressing. I have more flaws than most. And as a tummy pinch confirms: flab city. Which is the point, that T should be with someone of talent, potential, capability, and so forth deserving of her attention and passion, and 86'ing whoever is not.

What I at first and most of all wanted to have a go at with this letter writing business is fidelity. Gabriel Garcia Marquez is a lovely writer and a prime example of his lovely writing is his novel Love in the Time of Cholera. Pynchon describes,(3) in his kick ass style, the novel's premise as:

At the same time, where would any of us be without all that romantic infrastructure, without, in fact, just that degree of adolescent, premortal hope? Pretty far out on life's limb, at least. Suppose, then, it were possible, not only to swear love ''forever,'' but actually to follow through on it - to live a long, full and authentic life based on such a vow, to put one's alloted stake of precious time where one's heart is?

A little later:

This novel is also revolutionary in daring to suggest that vows of love made under a presumption of immortality - youthful idiocy, to some - may yet be honored, much later in life when we ought to know better, in the face of the undeniable.

Which I will digress for a sec to say that Pynchon's writing always blows me away and that includes whatever he adds outside his novels.

For Garcia Marquez's lovestruck dude Florentino and his vow of eternal fidelity and everlasting love to teenager Fermina, while waiting for his love to be receptive and available again (some years later, the actually number you have to read the novel - or google - to find out), he goes through 622 diary-documenting-worthy affairs, along with many, many ("countless"!) shorter-duration dalliances. In the end, he has the nerve to say he remained a virgin for her. Wow, talk about magic realism. Anyway, that's a bit of a sidetrack. The point is fidelity. The point is a confession to my unknown woman, T, and my fidelity to her. Okay, I had never been with her long enough nor with sufficient intimacy or privacy to come out and say I love her and always will. Okay, um, probably it would be slightly premature for me to do so even if that occasion presented itself. But to the degree infatuation or a deep, deep crush can be love, sure, then those vows are applicable and exist without my having said them. No? Okay, assuming yes then.

Anyway, the confession is more or less that since my infatuation at first sight, I probably have dated – "date," that term is as good as any other - or tried to date, and in the future I do intend to date. I am too much a cynic to say that position is wholly consistent with an eternal vow of love. Florentino presumably distinguishes his extracurricular fucking from spiritual fidelity, and spiritual virginity I guess. El realismo mágico!(4) I will say that I will/might end whatever preexisting relationship I would be in(5) if T ever becomes receptive and available: as far as I can tell she has been more or less attached with some dude or another for the one year or years that I have known of her. Though I have to guess what that means to my other former (or future, for that matter) deep crushes. Sticky business.

Which is all very confusing and terrible to say/admit, opening myself to all sort of questioning or critique on my character/principles.(6) To me, T is just about the most wonderful, inspiring, and foxy lady, like, ever. At the same time, waiting with nothing but the faintest prospects is strange. I mean, staying at home, masturbating, that's bound to be not too much fun after awhile and hardly, hardly figures to make one more commendable to oneself, not to mention to a prospective sweetheart. Maybe within the context of eternal love, as Florentino examples, it is the spiritual component that is chief. And love is wide enough to allowing dating, long term liaisons, even marriage even when a lot of affection is reserved for someone else. Widening love's pie so we can accommodate more of love's slices while also having more of each love's slice, that does not seem terrible, - as long as good character and fair principle guides the action, that is. But with my infatuation and crush for her, I have not and shall not remain faithful.

Anyway, this seems all and overall not too much to write about, which is why I haven't written it. So fin.




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1. Wikipedia, you suck.
2. Such as Cecilia couldn't be cuter and Min-shik couldn't be nuance-r.
3. A NYTimes review: http://www.nytimes.com/books/97/05/18/reviews/pynchon-cholera.html
4. I know I'm misapplying magic realism, as the virginity part is Florentino's POV and not what Garcia Marquez, the novelist, is saying is the case. But whatevs.
5. Somewhat mandatory qualifier: if any.
6. Cuz, like, what I write is totally, like, what and who I am. Or not. You know what? I take that back. The cynicism/defensiveness/frumiousness is over the top. It is especially unfair for me to presume anything about the reader(s?). Otherwise, I wrote (or 1/2 wrote) this thing and stand by it. I can go on, but I'll let it go.

The bomb that will bring us together

Richard Rhodes wrote The Making of the Atomic Bomb which I have and am reading, slowly. Slow because a chief headache I got is that math and science are not my strong suit. Summarizing Part 1 so far of Rhodes' book, which takes the intrepid physicists and chemists, theoreticians and experimentalists, from the give or take 1900 to the cusp of the WW number 2 rumble. Well, before summarizing, I want to say that I rather view WW number 2 starting with either the expansion of the Jewish persecution laws (mid 1930's) or the Anschluss/Sudetenland absorption (happening about a year prior to the official start date of 1939).1 In both situations Hitler twisted such an environment of instability that escalation was dead certain and grounds were aplenty for other nations to intervene.

In the Sudetenland case, military rejoinder should have been plain as day as France and Russia had signed and sealed treaty obligations (and UK with a sort of handshake agreement) to resist a Hitler move to that region. From the little I gather, decisive (and collective) action by the old European powers at that circa 1938 time might have squashed the Reich's burgeoning but still sloppy war machinery. Though at the same token, France and UK's war machines were less burgeonful and quite sloppy at that time too. The appeasement period, I have heard argued, was partially intended to allow ramp up time for the what would be Allied forces' own war/death machinery. France, however, considering how she rolled over to Hitler's blitzkrieg'ing, well, she didn't quite ramp too good.2

Drats, I hate to flip-flop and I was all set to unequivocally say that once the Reich's stepped up her aggressive racist policies around 1935 a moral obligation to militarily intervene arose. I mean I would have to scratch my head bald and bloody raw to find where international intervention would not have improved a situation which had acts tantamount to genocide.3 But before I get accused of being a Jew lover, well, I backtrack.

One reason is the old chestnut that sovereignty rights are a big freakin deal. And Germany, right or wrong to outsiders' eyes, at that time mid 1930 time, should have sufficient latitude for how she treated her people. The main targets of persecution were political opponents even as Jews, among other disfavored groups, slowly found many (professional, legal, citizenry) rights restricted/stripped. The life and death part of the final solution did not manifest itself until late 1930's, at least not until Broken Glass Night (circa 1938) or perhaps probably after Hitler steamrolled Poland and gained access to a much larger number of Poles of Jewish faith to torture/murder.4 And until some significant life and death stakes are on the line, I cannot quite say that other nation-states were obligated to intervene with guns and tanks on behalf of how the Germans treated her people within her borders. Yikes, does that make me an anti-Semite?

One writer I really dig is David Markson. And, joy of bookworm joy, DM will be doing a reading/talk/whatever at the Union Square Strand Bookstore on September 5 for his new novel titled The Last Novel. DM's present style is basically something that you can pretty quickly catch from reading about 1 1/2 pages in of any of his last four novels, including Last Novel, so I will skip my paltry description of his writing.5 For his reviewers and admirers, I would ask: how is Last Novel different from his prior three novels, or how does it advance, refine, deviate from his now fairly established (but still radical) style, form, substance, etc? I mean, if it is more of the same old goodness, I can accept that, and gleefully. But I wonder if there is anything differently compelling with Last Novel that might deserve special notice/attention.6 I ask because from reviews and criticism I have come across thus far, aside from the effusive praise and brief bio, there is only more effusive praise and bio.

Otherwise, I am quite looking forward to that big Sept 5 date. Anxious over what I should ask him to inscribe if he is kind enough to do an autograph, or two, for me. I hardly get into the autograph thing, and I would be totally unfamiliar with the process and protocols that goes into these bookstore events. As well, even these weeks in advance, I am formulating questions or small talk talking points to contribute for either the possible Q&A or brief 1 on 1 face time payoff if there is an autograph line. I hardly remember when I was last so heavy with anticipation. The analogy goes like this: DM = Justin Timberlake, me = HS sophomore mall princess dreaming of that box.7

But this is the point.

Orsen Welles directed a movie titled The Stranger where a war crimes investigator/Nazi hunter is hot on the tail of a Nazi who somehow assimilated himself in small town America.8 During a dinnertime conversation, the villain reveals his villainous past despite his Our Town sheep costume via an imprudent assertion that Marx was not a German but a Jew. Later the hero/investigator/hunter comes up with his heroic hunch by figuring only a Nazi scumbag would draw that sort of distinction. I did not know/recall that Marx was a Jew or a German, though I probably did know and really, really should have recalled.

Jews contributed over 30 books of the Christian bible, depending on the Christian sect, way over 30 books.9 When the church pastor gives his/her lesson about Job, those scriptures are from a Jew about a Jew.

Actually, that point would take forever. I won't be a coy goy, this is the dirty point and I'll make it brief: Fuck it, I am anti-Semitic.10 Institutionalized faith blows.11

So back to Part 1 summarizing: the atom is still a question mark at around 1900's. Cavendish-HQ'ed Rutherford experiments with alpha particle projectiles lead to the conclusion of the atom's nucleus, massive and electrically charged, with oppositely charged stuff about it. Already formed was a suspicion of tremendous power potential. Copenhagen-located Bohr and Moseley did experiments involving the periodic table and something was learned about the electron, which are the oppositely charged stuff about Rutherford's nucleus. Then and around then, World War I and lots of woe and death. Then something particle accelerator,12 Joliot-Curie, Chadwick's gamma ray experiments, and the big thing in 1932: the neutron, which was determined to be ass-massive like protons but w/o electric charge. Big because neutron had the capability of penetration previously unavailable for scientists.

1932 and Europe obviously also meant the rise of Hitler. A lot of chemists and physicists had Jewish issues and as Nazism progressed things got hairier for many scientists. The international community did very little very late, which meant too late for many people who were of Jewish faith (or had ancestors who were) and just in the nick of time for the lucky not as many.

Through it all, more discoveries and experiments, along with fears and dreams of the potential energy from atomic exploration. Uranium, Fermi, Einstein, Bohr's liquid drop model. Finally, barium formed from uranium, Meitner, Frisch, Hahn and Straussmann.13 Essentially, the nucleus is like a water drop, neutrons hitting it would make it wobble, as it wobbles it goes from more or less circular to oscillating, ovally elongations. At that time, the strong force that kept the circular shape of the nucleus would weaken because strong force operates only over short distances, and the distance had widen because of the neutron impact and oscillation. At the same time, the electrical repulsion forces would increase, think water balloon tossed in the air. The nucleus would be pushed more ovally until it forms a waist or become like an hourglass, however, once that happens, the narrowing waist would bring the strong force back into play and the hourglass would squeeze closer and closer until poof and pop, one big nucleus become two smaller nuclei, along with a hell of a lot of energy being freed, something that E=mc(2) would probably aid in calculating. By then, most of the hearty band of superbad nerds, I mean scientists, had resettled in the New World. And World War 2? Awaiting, I assume, in Part 2.

If the summary made no/little sense, well, imagine that stretched across 300 pages of Making of Atomic Bomb. Equations are a language I cannot read. Still, it makes the subway ride go by faster.

Someone said, "I will have nothing to do with a bomb." Guess which scientist.14





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1. This focus on Germany takes a rather skewered view as a lot of bad shit was going down in Asia too, and I am totally ignoring the implication that a stronger and earlier response from US, UK, etc against Japan and in support of China in the 1930's could have made things quite different (both in Asia and Europe). But I cannot clearly see how: Asia is/was seen as a beneath official notice, colonial trophy anyway and China, well, she was in such a sad conflicted state that Japan's military imposition could hardly be described as worsening her situation. However, Japan's abuse of soldiers and civilians in the 1930's and throughout Asia probably did require the international community to kick Jap asses sooner. Anschluss refers to Austria, and Sudetenland refers to, I think, the Bohemia part of Czechoslovakia.

2. You will probably come across people saying that the Brits and French were routed out of Europe due to bad strategy that allowed the Germans to divide their forces. I guess. But you know what, I'm slightly glad Paris did not got the shit pounded out of her like London or Dresden.

3. "Acts tantamount to genocide" is a fucking cowardly phrase which I more or less credit to Bill Clinton. The quick and dirty is that saying something is genocide, by international law, would require action, while saying acts tantamount to genocide basically permitted many, many folks to get systematically slaughtered, raped, and tortured.

4. Sort of explained if you continue reading. Sort of. By the way, Hitler's hate machine also preyed upon gays, Catholics, etc., but I'll presume in WW2's case, scale is not insignificant in assigning the main victims.

5. If you aren't even going to read 1 1/2 pages, then I especially should save my attempt at a what would be a paltry description.

6. Which is to say I have not read the new book yet. I have it, and it is on my to read pile, but I have not read it yet.

7. The instructions apparently are: (1) cut a hole in a box; (2) put your junk in that box; and (3) make her open the box.

8. Edward G. Robinson, the hero/investigator/hunter, is a tremendous character actor. Made great movies that much greater, plus terrific cartoons (Bugs Bunny, Courageous Cat & Minute Mouse) that much terrific-er.

9. The Bible: Part 1, aka Old Testament, for sure, right? Anyway, if I had anticipated I was just going to say what I had to say with essentially one throwaway line, I would not have bothered googling about the Old Testament. The main parts of the Christian bible that matches with the Jewish bible are about 36 books. However, the actually number of Jews writing (recording/telling) were probably less as certainly a few dudes (Moses, for one) got credit for multiple books (Pentateuc, for Moses' multiples).

10. Well, I am. Though I hope to avoid getting on the ADL and/or JDL shitlists.

11. The rituals, costumes, music, poetry, etc. are probably exquisite and fun. And the people, as individuals, are probably and typically deeply flawed and deeply beautiful, as people normally are.

12. Maybe I just missed the significance of Lawrence's cyclotron but I did not get its exact contribution for atomic research so far.

13. Einstein said of Lise Meitner, "the German Madame Curie." Which gives no notice of the fact that she was Austrian, her ancestry included folks who practiced the Jewish faith, and she was a baptized Lutheran.

14. I'll give it away, later; but, as well, there's always google.

We Jazz June

Days ago Arcade Fire performed at a place in northern Manhattan, Harlem, Spanish Harlem, Washington Height-ish section, I don't know which neighborhood, but far north enough that I could have safely confided, "We aren't in Lower East Side anymore, Toto."

Arcade Fire not long ago released their second long play compact disc titled Neon Bible. It is fashionable to say the earlier stuff is better and, as gravity teaches, there is often no place to go but down. Meanwhile, I have been out of fashion for quite some time, and as well, when you think about, (G*m1*m2)/(d*d) ain't much to answer to.1 So. I like Neon Bible, yet yeah, Funeral, the debut titled Arcade Fire long play, is better. I will not dwell on it, but one reason one is better than the other is because the guitar play in Funeral is more out there and raw, and lends greater exigency and electricity.

Proust wrote somewhere in Remembrance of Things Past, "All men with similar ideas are alike." I'm not sure how much of a definitive statement Proust intended that to be. I am willing to say that he meant it more as an entry point for further or other explorations and discussions, if anything. Moreover, while I think the quote is provocative, I do not particularly agree with it. Which is the long way of saying that Ocean of Noise, track 6 off Neon Bible, is an amazing tune and plays on a lot of the themes and issues that I am drawn to: culpability, (emotional) violence, communication, getting closer, not being able to get closer, shit like that. But it is not Ocean's matching parts that hook me, but where they jump track from my own thoughts.

Which is a slightly roundabout way of saying that I am still learning about myself, and compassion, forgiving, and forgetting, and so forth;2 learning and re-learning. Which is, without claiming any authoritative understanding of Ocean, is more or less what Ocean deals with. "Now who here among us / Still believes in choice? / - Not I" caught my attention at first because then, and as now I suppose, I do not think I can get its meaning. Is choice good, bad? am I choosing, am I not? And, what is belief in choice? do I believe in choice, should I? Etc. Mysterious.

"Time heals all wounds" a common saying goes. I do not suppose I buy that, it assumes too much is my gut response. But time is a major component when it comes to my dealing with conflict and anguish; in large parts because I do not mind waiting. Let's say you and I tussle in a heated argument, eventually, if not immediately, the exchanges devolve into accusations, blame, and worse, figuring out how each of us can use words, actions, memories to hurt as much as possible the other. I just think given time some type of clarity or calm can be restored. Not as in time dulling the intensity of emotions, but rather letting the higher or main emotions come forth in the way that is intended. In the initial bloated heat of a given argument, one person might be inclined to say, "you are a bitch and I don't want to see you again." Given a bit of time maybe something different comes out, something like, "what you did hurt me, try not to do it again, and I'll try not to put you in a position to do it again." Ocean concludes powerfully with "I'm gonna work it out / cuz time won't work it out." Time, time, time is on my side? No, it isn't. Not necessarily anyway. Yeah, given time maybe something different comes out: clarity, calm, affection, perspective, etc; but time-wise, maybe something else comes out instead, something much less benevolent or productive; or maybe yet, nothing, as in never again, comes out. Time does not heal wounds; you heal – your and those of others that you associate with – wounds; I heal – my and those of others I associate with – wounds. Probably assumes too much too, but veers closer to reality and possibility.

This last bit comes from an earlier part in Ocean, "You've got your reasons, / And me I've got mine. / But all the reasons I gave / Were just lies to buy myself some time." A lovely bit, and exemplifies why Arcade Fire is listenable. But other than that, it is just nice to have the chance to be told, or reminded, that all the hard earned lessons that somehow hardened to become my hardheaded truths might be complete bullshit, and lies. I am a fairly stern and cold person, sometimes out of necessity, sometimes pushed to be, and sometimes (or too often) out of ease. If that type of severity could be deemed a virtue, it would only be so if it stood behind being right or was justified. But to not be right and in the process wronging myself and others, and all the while being recalcitrant about things, even the possibility of that combination has to give frightening pause. To question myself, even say outright that I may be lying, even when I can do nothing but believe what I do and say is dead to rights, why the hell not.

I'll break here to say that the novel Stone Junction - even only 17 and a half page in - is really good.3

Anyway, yeah, Ocean, I think it is a good song. You get it. Okay, at the Arcade Fire show, before the band got onstage, I spotted a school friend two or so rows in front of me. I was not sure at first if it was he; it looked like him enough. I chitchatted with my own buddy for a little bit before deciding to "shout out" to that school friend. Alas, he was not there no more. I figured he went to the can or on an overpriced beer run, and would return soon. Skipping the suspense, he never got back. I guess, his seat was elsewhere and he stopped by and did a "shout out" of his own to his own friends. This conclusion comes from checking in two rows ahead, every now and then, once the show started, my school friend never got back but his friends were still there.

So no school friend, just two other dudes who I suppose were my friend's friends. Arcade Fire rocked a pretty good show. If I had to say, probably one of the 2-3 best live shows I ever seen. They do not so much as put on a solid professional show and get the crowd involve, but the crowd becomes a part of their show. The Wrens, who possess another slot in the probably one of the 2-3 best live shows I ever seen, float pretty much the same boat.4 Now, of course, the crowd has to be really into the band and their music in the first place for that to happen. But it is not the passion of the crowd that makes it a great show, but how much the performers believe in their songs and performance to meld with the crowd. And frankly, most other performers either do not believe enough in their product or just do not see mixing with their fans as the point of their show. Arcade Fire really buys into their stuff. And if you are a fan, with the band and you are in this thing together, or at least together during the show's length, then that experience is damn fantastical.

Which is my way of pointing out that I do not buy into the Arcade Fire (or Wrens) shtick. In one sense it is amazing when the performers steps down to join the crowd, or pull massive chucks of the frenzied crowd on stage. Being a part of that, there is no way to not say fucking cool. Even seeing that happen, that is fucking cool. The magic of their show and their songs narrows the divide between those making the music and those listening to the music. A sort of ich bin ein Arcade Fire, or perhaps ich bin ein audience.5 Yet, the cynic in me sees that generosity as corn. In the end, the show is still a show, Arcade Fire are performers, the crowd is there to be entertained, and the divide is still divide, no matter how many people leap on stage to rock Wake Up, the final song of the rock and roll evening. It is a certain perversion, but those other musical acts who coast on professionalism and are content to please the crowd with choreographed hip shakes or microphone extended to play sing-along, by admitting to the divide between artist and listener, that they are putting on a mere show, nothing more nothing less, I, if not respect, accept that. The sick part is that Arcade Fire, and Wrens who I caught months ago, by suggesting a greater intimacy and communion and therefore giving a kick ass show, lie.

Still, during the few stingy hours of the show, the crowd rocked hard along with the band, and my friend's friends two or so rows in front of me did too. They swayed, hollered, leapt, and arm pumped. Which is to say they expressed how the music moved them. Which is to say they were flamboyant with their expressiveness. Which is to say these two young men were probably gay. Or flamboyant plus relatively fit/thin equal probably gay. Which means maybe my school friend is probably in the closet.

Currently out of the niggas I know, I have about a hand's worth who are friends or acquaintances – at this point, I will admit the N word (naturally, the N word is nigga) is controversial and makes some folks uneasy. And while I did have and was working out justification and/or explanation for using the N word (by which is still nigga), I am going to leave it as is, unless someone directly request for such justification/explanation (and with why).6

Among the hand's worth, Spike Lee is not included. Even though Spike is a city boy, like I am a city boy, I never got to bump into him around town.7 Otherwise, Spike, to me, is a great American director and out of the bunch of his generation/contemporary working currently, the best major commercial art director, and that means better than Spielberg and Scorsese.8 I threw out that proposition in a comment at another blog, and to my surprise someone replied:

"I actually agree with you on Spike Lee; I have tremendous love for him for directing Do the Right Thing (one of the great films of the '80s) and 25th Hour (one of the great films of the '00s) and of course When the Levees Broke. And even though he's made several terrible or mediocre movies, and he turned out to be a facile public speaker and rude/arrogant during a Q&A at UNC last semester, I think if there's any established figure who proves to young people the (both political and aesthetic) relevance of film in contemporary society, it would be Spike Lee, not the Scorsese of the past decade."9

Nice way of pretty much saying just about most of what I have to say, and stealing my thunder. So even while I do not mind redundancy too much, I will let it stand except for except.

I came around to my view on Spike based largely on his underappreciated movie, titled The Inside Man, not his best work, but is such a good movie that it perhaps prevents folks from seeing it as a great movie. My view is based on Inside Man compared to The Departed, both are two of the more mainstream commercial projects from two of the more major American directors. And the thing that Spike does that Scorsese does not, and upon wider general reflection, other supposedly major American commercial directors also do not, Spike engages (even challenges) culture and society, and with greater depth and vitality. Yet, everyone makes a big fucking uproar about Scorsese never having won a directing Oscar, or finally having won one, and for The fucking Departed! Departed is the same shit over and over, movies so that guys can jerk off to violence and nihilism. Yeah, award winning stuff. Spike has yet to be nominated for the fucking directing Oscar, for god sakes. Why? I grant that intelligence, ambition, and so forth are not often nor quickly recognized or rewarded. But that Spike is black, yeah, it has to have something to do with it. Life is all right in America, if you're all white in America.10

Don Imus, I point out regardless, is not black, nor a friend, nor an acquaintance. He formerly was a host of a morning talk radio show which I have never heard nor had any inclination to hear. Aside from not liking advertisements, which means not liking commercial radio (or commercial television), I (presume-ably) would not like whatever shock shtick Imus plays to the morning AM crowd. He was canned for saying something I neither have yet nor will ever repeat in writing (at least in commenting on Imus), some type of slur directed against the young ladies of the Rutgers Scarlet Knight b-ball team (after their disappointing defeat at the hands of the Parker-led Lady Vols in the championship match), and which resulted in a minor media maelstrom. The maelstrom regarding Imus' slur seem to be either that it was per se offensive or personally offensive to the girls as private figures. Neither is particularly persuasive.

The thing that gets to me is that for Imus' slur to be regarded as patently offensive, the mediots sure trip all over themselves to repeat the offending statement, and as frequently as possible to boot. If folks think that Imus' statement is such a (professionally) capital or suspend-able offense, then folks should stop repeating that damn statement. Even where it is necessary to directly quote Imus to set up a media segment, afterwards the blander "Imus' statement" can be used for the rest of the segment. Repeating the slur means it is not offensive per se. If they can repeat it with impunity, then, maybe Imus' remark is not as fucking bad as all that. And worse, by repeating Imus' sexist and racist remark, the mediots betray how clearly and dearly they like to say or hear it rolling out of their own damn mouth.

Other complainers of Imus go on to say that his remark as directed to a bunch of defenseless, post teen girls makes it bad. The assumption is that public figures, movie stars, politicians, and those celebrated ilk, have to take the lumps that accompany fame/notoriety and have channels to respond in kind. I personally would love for someone to attach Imus' slur to Condoleezza Rice for her part in the Bush administration's Iraq decisions/policies.11 But to describe the Rutgers women b-ballers as strictly private citizens is not exactly accurate. First, the ladies have defense enough as Imus got his ass kicked to the unemployment curb. And if the girls are on a national stage, as athletes, in a grudge match watched by (and for) millions, they are public figures. Not that I do not sympathize with the Rutgers women, but their training and education from Rutgers and Coach Stringer should prep them to be more than ready to take on a radio shock host.

As for Imus' fate, not that I care much for him – pretty much if he lived by the advertising dollars, then he should not begrudge too much dying (professionally) by the advertising dollars – but I wish to hell or high heaven that the radio station had guts enough to stick to freedom of expression and marketplace of ideas. Otherwise, that Imus is apologetic and seeks forgiveness for his offensive remarks, that is super. Hopefully it is true and he works on that, he just won't get paid while doing it, is all.

Finally, I do not want to leave with the false impression that I am so saintly or delicate for not repeating Imus' slur. I have repeated it, and variations, in private and personal conversations with friends. Among other things much worse. I can always be worse. It's always night, or we wouldn't need light.12 I/we do need light.13



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1 Recently, in response to something I wrote (two entries ago, actually), a friend critiqued it as my trying to sound cool. I responded by saying "i guess what i can't imagine is trying to 'sound cool' via writing." Meaning I have yet to read anything that could be described in style or intent as "cool." Hip I see, and/or have seen. But cool? It is not a descriptive I attached or know how to attach to writing. Though perhaps the equation for gravitational attraction may be a pathetic try at cool. Not sure.

2 However, just as well, I could have written: how to be not compassionate, not forgiving, & not forgetful.

3 At this real time present point, I am done with Jim Dodge's novel and I really, really dig it. I fairly promptly mailed my book to a dear, close friend. He got through the magic novel in a few days and seem to like it. At this real time present point, I also got done with Thomas Bernhard's special novel, titled Yes. Finding a pal who might dig Bernhard's, um, disciplined prose, however, is a tad more of a task.

4 I leave the last slot open because I assume there must be some show that I have caught that was extra super, even if I cannot think of the specific show.

5 It is a certain urban legend that Kennedy misspoke in the Berlin speech. While Berliner might commonly stand for donut, by many credible accounts Kennedy's grammar matched his intent.

6 I apologize to any particular reader if my using of that word may bring back pain ridden memories or sensations of historic or present day usage in a negative, derogatory context.

7 I probably spied Spike from the Garden's nose bleed seats through binoculars at this or that Knickerbockers game.

8 The qualification for living directors is because among Spike's general generation of American directors at least Robert Altman is probably as good or greater. And I have a bunch of disses for some of Spike's peers, such as FF Coppola who is basically content with staying fat and selling wine these days rather than work on movies. I will also say that there are any numbers of other American directors who have made marvels of movies, such as Lynch or Jarmusch (De Palma, Coen siblings, etc), but they stick mainly with their art or marginalia shtick. Spielberg is the tough one, but I'm not giving him the benefit of the doubt, he makes artful commercial movies, not commercial art flicks.

9 I am going to skip identifying that blog , but it is among one linked along the side here. And you can search from there. It was more or less a conversation with new blogger Andy Chan, who, aside from the quoted text (and for his and that site's protection), has nothing to do with the content here.

10 Apparently, the stage version of West Side Story and the movie version has slightly different lyrics. I hadn't notice these lyrics until I watched part of the movie on PBS, which was, from the part I saw, pretty good.

11 I do not know if her hair style qualifies her for Imus' slur however.

12 T. Monk had said.

13 Maybe instead: I need to create more and a brighter light.

Picnic or Poker

Does anyone like stories? This one goes like this.

I really love Wolf Parade. If you don't know who they are, it's OK, essentially your typical indie rock act but with more edge, bare emotions, and unspoiled energy. I got their long play debut cd, titled Apologies to the Queen Mary, probably fall of third year.(1) A long enough time ago, in other words.(2) A lifetime ago, you could even say.

So I checked on the band occasionally via www, to see if they gots a new cd, tour dates or other trivia.(3) Fast forward a little bit and I noticed one of the Wolf Parade's singers splintered temporary to a side project/band, Handsome Furs.(4) Even clueless as to what this new band's sound might possibly be, there was instant excitement. Fast forward some more, and an announcement, via www, of, among others, two Handsome Furs shows in my home state, Lower East Side NY!

Now, I was not working back then. So I thought better to tighten the credit card belt, and save the plastic pennies for a rainy future day. Weeks passed and weeks passed. And well, 13 dollars per ticket is not much, I'll just not super-size a meal or two. And presto, yesterday (Monday) I was set for tomorrow's (Wednesday) grand show.

At this point, today (Tuesday) saw the release of Handsome Furs' debut cd, Plague Park,(5) which is pretty damn good, sort of like Wolf Parade but more edge, emotions, and energy. Ha, just kidding. It's same and different, as would probably be expected.(6) But if Wolf Parade isn't your boat, you ain't gonna set sail for Handsome Furs either.(7)

I may have been set for Wednesday's show but God or the United States Custom officers equivalent believed otherwise.(8) Apparently, Canadians Dan and Alexei, the tag team who are Handsome Furs, were denied entry to the red, white, and blue parts of the beautiful Americas. Retribution for the Senators trouncing the Sabres?(9) Maple syrup protectionist policy? Chertoff issued a double secret new threat alert against the rock & roll sector?(10) Anyway, as a result, their shows, including the one I have a ticket for, were c-a-n-celed. Fuck. And double fuck.

The end. Short, but harmless.


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1. I actually, if it matters, caught them opening for another band I like during summer first year. That was a true lifetime ago! And the year delineation refers to an American law school thing.

2. One of my better friends in law school (I should use this space to say that all my friends, in or out of law school, are my better friends) was this seemingly Nordic giant named, by initial, B. We shared a common interest in indie and new musical exploration that was such that I trust his musical judgment near without reservation. Soon after I got the Wolf Parade cd that fateful third year, I shared it with him. A year later, he told me that one of the bands he had since really gotten into was Wolf Parade. And I was totally like, "Dude, I gave you that cd a year ago." He maybe didn't pay as much attention to Apologies a year ago, as it deserved. At the same time, during that fateful third year's time, I was quite into Etta James, and I remember in casual conversation B. saying he was listening to a lot to Miss Peaches as well, independent of any referral by me. As for the Wolf Parade slight, it's all good, he got me into Brooklyn's new flavor, a band called The Nationals. These days probably one of my favorite new-ish act is New Jersey's The Wrens, and I wonder if B. has their amazing album titled The Meadowlands.

3. You have to google for yourself, I'm afraid, for the sites.

4. Via www: To an interview question "How did the name Handsome Furs come about?" Alexei replied, "I was working on a short story with that title. It came from a Victorian book of clip art I had. It was this funny advertisement featuring a little dapper man in a fur coat with a huge moustache." I'm not crazy about the name (in part because I'm anti-pelt), but I excuse it, figuring Canadians have a special and natural affinity to the wilderness and fur. The other Wolf Parade singer, Spencer Krug, has his own side project/band, the very good Sunset Rubdown, whose newest cd, titled Shut Up I Am Dreaming, is also pretty good.

5. Via www: "The title comes from ... Ruttopuisto Park, located in the center of Helsinki, Finland, which was built on the corpses of one thousand, one hundred and eighty five people who died of 'pest plague' in 1710. Every year, on the first day of spring, the locals go down to Plague Park to honor the town and those fallen due to this unfortunate incident." However, and regardless that it is wrong, I just think the title was meant to be an homage to Camus' novel, titled The Plague.

6. From their myspace page: "The duo of Handsome Furs began as an idea in the winter of 2006, comprised of Montreal residents Dan Boeckner (Wolf Parade) and Alexei Perry. Dark and minimal while noisy and earnest, the point was to be as sparse and repetitive as possible with the help of little more than vocals, guitars, and a new drum machine. Through this, songs of earthbound captains, eggs made of gold and iron, and sleepless bodies were born. Boeckner's disenchanted vocals thinly resonate while cloaked in a frenzied undertone of fear and uncertainty, all punctuated by bare drum machine beats. Through the course of each track, a deep-seated sense of longing is leveled out by staunch realism as a restless disdain for both urban life and smaller towns collide... It is a record of melancholic tendency and heartfelt desire; a stripped down symphony relegated between city and country, and made for ears of either side." Uh, why not.

7. Plague Park actually is quite wonderful. I have listened to Plague pretty much nonstop and exclusively at the expense of recent new purchases that include Arcade Fire, Feist, Besnard Lakes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs & Mandopop princess Sun YanZi (her new cd is quite good too). "Baby, we can get you anything you want, any time you want, but you won't know what it's for."

8. I do not know why I have to insert God into every situation and argument that involves hard luck, bad breaks and so forth. But if I cannot sloppily blame Him/Her, then who else?

9. Ottawa ended Buffalo's Stanley Cup dreams. Yeah, I don't follow hockey much either.

10. I assume the Secretary of Homeland Security hands out the national threat advisories.

2 Parts

I. On Language or Space

for YKP

English is not my first language. More painful, and well supported by sad empirical evidence, neither is Chinese. In the beginning, I assume it was whaa. As in whaa meaning I'm hungry. Or being a rather elastic language, whaa where is my milk, Gerber, apple juice; whaa where is my burp or diaper change, whaa where, oh where is my sleepy-time nap. Like the Intuits, but in reverse.1

That first language is not of much use these days because, frankly, it is terribly ineffective. Whaa where is my affordable but massive loft space; whaa I need a j-o-b; whaa I want to get laid. Predictably, nada. Worse, instead of conveying a particular message, probably now, the only thing conveyed or the only meaning received is that I am a salty-cheek, runny-nose wimp. Men, for whatever reason, are viewed that much worse for being a crybaby.

Or I overstate. A co-beginner language is silence. As in "-" and mushy food or toasty formula got shoved face-and-mouth-ward; "-" and the Huggies and wet naps unfurled; or "-" and it's crib time, hush-toned lullabies sometimes accompanied. Early on silence gained the same luxuries as letting out a good ear-splitting wail. God only knows why the young ones on board flights always chose the latter option.

Silence has more staying power for me. Almost eventually the inescapable question/statement/observation regarding me: "you are quiet" or "why don't you say something." I don't know what to say at those times. I am already saying something? Eh, maybe that's a cop out. I guess when posed with those awkward questions or sometimes statements, I end up by saying... not too much.

Elliot is one of my favorite poets. Or at least I draw what I will loosely term inspiration from his verses. Does summer surprise? He claims it does by writing "Summer surprised us" in The Wasteland. Actually, I never read Wasteland in full. But it starts "April is the cruelest month" and my birthday falls in April. Fake kinship I know. He was surely not thinking of little ol' me, or China, when he wrote that. China because I was not born yet when he completed his poem, neither were any of my parents I suppose.

I could go on about Elliot and his poem Prufrock (which I have read often), and those related digressions and regressions; but I will not. Best to save it for some other time, maybe, if there is any interest, that is. More simply I mistake. It's the way these things sometimes go. My first language was a cry, but a different, and never to be repeated again, cry. Maybe a cry for fear of being crazy.

It's like this, I was already in a world before this world. And maybe when I started out, small and simple, that world was more than large enough. Months later, even when my head touched the outer limits, and feet kicked for more legroom, I did not figure on leaving. I had most of the essentials: warmth, food, and security. But I was squeezed out nonetheless, which was unavoidable.

I will say this about Adam. Maybe he wanted to know good and evil when he bit the juicy forbidden fruit, maybe he was tempted by the promise of opened eyes finally - he had eyes, and they were of little use if they always stayed wide shut. But maybe instead or in large part, after Eve-ey took her ill-fated bite, maybe he knew she fucked up, and once she fucked up, maybe Adam saw the alternatives as either remain all alone in Edenic (literally) paradise or share God's legendary rage with his true love. I can see him munch on that illicit fruit to choose Eve's friendship, purposely. In a way, his eyes, perhaps, were already opened with something as great and powerful as the knowledge of good and evil, namely love. Romance-soused as I am currently, hopefully Adam was not a dick and did not later regret his act nor hold his independent decision against scantily, animal-skin clad Eve.

Which is to say, when I was out of my paradise, there was no choice. I was alone and was not aware of not being alone, I guess except for the faint, steady rhythm of my mom's heartbeat. This new infinite world, at least as infinite as my old world first seemed (if I thought about it then), yielded a new language. I cried: because it was so cold, because it was too awfully bright, because I must have thought I was insane. And maybe, because my ass was getting slapped.


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1. According to Google, it's a certain misconception that the Intuits have however many words they have for snow.


II. Briefly


Here is my friend David's movie list, with some unrelated intro.

Coming back from a vacation and getting back to reality is always so difficult. Anyway, catching a film and listening to cool music always reinvigorates me and that's exactly what I did last week.

Along with X I caught this wonderful French film called The Earrings of Madame De... at the Film Forum. It's an early 50's film (1953 to be exact) and similar to Rules of the Game it follows the lives of the rich and is considered a classic. While Rules is somewhat difficult to follow due to its multitude of characters, Earrings thankfully only has 3 with the main focus naturally on the Madame of the title. I thought Earrings was much more accessible then Rules although I hope to revisit Rules again at some point if I can get my hands on da boss's pristine dvd which is still in its original shrink wrap. Hahaha... ***********Spoilers*********** I thought it was pretty creative how the earrings in the film was passed around to the same parties and how its meaning changed with each exchange.************End of Spoilers********* I look forward to seing more films directed by Max Ophul and it was nice to watch a movie about rich people and then get driven home in X's big old Benz! Hahaha.

On a whim I decided to catch Spring Awakening again last Friday night since C. was hanging out with her friends. I don't want to overhype this show but let my actions speak for itself. I always felt Broadway shows were kind of tacky and stodgy but Spring really shatters that for me. My Junk, And Then there were None, The Dark I know Well, The Bitch of Living, Totally Fucked, and Left Behind are my favorites and my only criticism is that it would've been nice to have one or two harder edged songs expressing more anger and rage because isn't youth all about that? It was funny, as I was exiting the theater I saw Larry Fishburne and we kind of made contact because I guess he noticed that I was staring at him. I was looking around to see if anyone else noticed him but no one really did or perhaps they just weren't making a fuss. Anyway, take the wife/shortie to Spring and let me know what you guys think. I'm certainly down for a third viewing! Heck, I can't believe I've watched 3 Broadway musicals in just as many months. Don't worry, I have no intention of watching Mary Poppins or Legally Blonde always on the real. I think it'd be cool to see a gangsta broadway show with some rapping in it.

I know we're into April already but here's my top 9 of 2006 from very good to best:

Always (Yamazaki, 2005) - wonderful tearjerker.

Linda, Linda, Linda (Yamashita, 2005) - low key comedy that Japan does so well.

The Host (Bong, 2005) - I don't think this film has caught on in the states even though it's playing on alot of screens.

Election 2 (To, 2006) - Gritty gangster flick that doesn't glamorize the underworld. FF is actually going to be showing both Election 1 and 2! I'm so glad that I didn't given in and just watch that bad boy on video! The adage that good things come to those who wait is so true.

Funky Forest (Ishi et al, 2005) - One of the best weird and strange movies you'll ever see. Rinko Kikuchi has a funny scene in this one.

Letters from Iwo Jima (Eastwood, 2006) - Japan is wondering why they didn't make a film like this.

Knockabout (Hung, 1979) - Sammo and Yuen at their best and a true HK classic. Someone really needs to start showing kung fu flicks on 35mm again! Lousy Tarantino should be sharing his collection with everyone. I'd love to see someone make a nihilistic kung fu flick based entirely on a evil kung fu master. It can be something like Graveyard of Honor where we see the gangster just lashing out at everyone.

Late Chrysanthemums (Mizoguchi, 1939) - at the beginning of this film there's a beautiful tracking shot of the two main characters walking the down street that lasts 15 seconds or so. That shot alone told me that I was in for something special. The main actor in the film was also in Naruse's masterpiece The Song Lantern from 1943. Ugetsu and Sansho the Bailiff can also be put in place of Late. Honorable mention for Sisters of the Gion.

Army of Shadows (Melville, 1969) - Opening shot of German soldiers marching down the Champs with the Arc in the background was quite memorable. Cool flick about the French resistance during WW II.

2006's 5

Usually, this little personal exercise is a little fun. But the year prior prior and this past year, I have attended a lot less screenings. It seems total superfluous and self-serving, whereas in the past, it was only mostly so. So maybe the enthusiasm ain't all there.

That's not exactly true. There was a lot of fun last year. Rivette is quite a subversive joyride. And Jia Zhangke represents a lot of vitality and possibility for new stuff coming out. Anyway, here is only my top five favorites (because of my reduced movie watching schedule) for 06.

1

Va savoir, France 2001, Jacques Rivette – The question marks might spring from why this movie ahead of sublime and masterful Celine et Julie. These may be meager reasons but (1) at least in time, Va savoir is more recent and (2) the lighter touches (in depth and breadth) radiate a more direct playfulness and openness. Otherwise, I could look at Hélène de Fougerolles, like, forever and ever. And J.R. is, like, totally awesome.

The Rules of the Game, France 1939, Jean Renoir – Defies superlatives. Yeah, superficially a farce; but also everything else and with perfect balance.

Unknown Pleasures, China 2002, Jia Zhangke – I wrote this earlier to my number one gal:

"i want to make time on sunday to catch either one of the french films at walter reade (whichever one you might have a preference for) or jia zhangke's PLATFORM (at 8:00).

yesterday i saw his UNKNOWN PLEASURES, fairly good and engaging. not quite the startling cinematic force that everyone claims jia zhangke to be. my frame of reference is mainly the french new wave, and UNKNOWN PLEASURES is his working through some of the early godard stuff, especially BAND OF OUTSIDER.

god, i meant to be complimenting the movie. with jia zhangke hyped as a genius and i don't think UNKNOWN PLEASURES was genius (or maybe not the genius that i expected), it might sound like i didn't think the movie was good. but referring to godard and BAND OF OUTSIDER, and not suffering much by way of comparison, i do think it's good.

on a side note, i can understand that everyone wants to find the influence of hou hsiao hsien in this or that asian director because it's just the easy thing to do. but the fact that jia zhangke moves his camera and with extend pans and tracking shots, that pretty much signals not hou hsiao hsien.

anyway, everyone says PLATFORM is his best movie to date.

any time/interest?"

Yet in my final, revised analysis, I guess Unknown Pleasures' relevance earns it higher marks than my first reaction. Maybe I'm a victim to hype after all.

2

Stranger Than Fiction, USA 2006, Marc Forster – This pick may surprise some folks who feel familiarity with my movie habits, Stranger being mainstream, Hollywood trash and all, but 1) Forster though not close to being a master is an eager/sincere auteur; 2) sincerity counts for a lot, for me; 3) Will Ferrell is a titanic talent; 4) the rest of the cast is strong; and 5) it's simply more successful (more sensitive/vulnerable/human) than most of the rest of the meta movie class.

The Story of the Last Chrysanthemums, Japan 1939, Kenji Mizoguchi – Lustrous, innovative, and graceful roving camera. This and Rules came out the same year, which already makes 1939 one fantastic movie making/releasing years ever, and there was also Only Angels Have Wings (a personal favorite) and Gone With the Wind (a controversial but still a touchstone movie). Otherwise, someone wrote "there is a time in every film critic's life when he thinks... nastiness is more profound than nobility." Last Chrysanthemum has nobility.

Army of Shadows, France 1969, Jean-Pierre Melville – No resisting this French resistance movie!

Celine and Julie Go Boating, France 1974, Jacques Rivette – Okay, so I put Va savoir ahead of this. I'm not justifying nothing. This is a fucking masterpiece.

Linda Linda Linda, Japan 2005, Nobuhiro Yamashita – Whee, Asian riot grrrls. Ba Du Nae forever too!

Cache, France 2005, Michael Haneke – Challenging and fun, and exciting, and boring, and really, really good.

Peacock, China 2005, Changwei Gu – One thing I can say about this movie is that it ain't the typical 5th Generation exercise in Chinese depression/oppression. A little lighter and more compassionate. My favorite scene is early on when sometimes cute and sometimes not (which somehow makes her cuter) Weihong takes terrible care of the infants.

3

Inland Empire, USA 2006, David Lynch – Lynch's scary and confusing failure. God, why was this movie made. But still brimming with glorious and weird ideas and tensions.

Double Life of Veronique, Poland/France 1991, Krzysztof Kieslowski – As soon as I complained about the lack of DVD, it pops up - from Criterion no less (same with Ozu's Late Spring). Still, I caught this at a shadowy and lustrous big screen screening. Tasty. Abstract/artful, romantic, and quite thrilling.

4

One or Two Things I Know About Her, France 1967, Jean-Luc Godard – I'm not sure if it's good or bad fortunate but I've pretty much been able to catch a Godard flick every single year, it seems. This one he moves even harder toward his essay stylings and places more distance away from narrative and character, both of which he wasn't much tethered to anyway. Difficult but fun moments aplenty.

Triad Election, HK 2006, Johnnie To – There is sublimity in an efficiently and exquisitely crafted movie. Johnnie To can really turn his magnifying lens to a small piece of drama and drench and stretch it with strong acting, deft camera work/music, a bizarre kind of historic and cinematic nostalgia, and kick ass atmosphere, and somewhere in the process, flip certain things upside their head and show them in surprising, new ways.

5

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, USA 2005, Andrew Adamson – Straightforward Hollywood trash/pop. I'll admit that I love the Lewis literary source enough to grant this movie version more credit than it deserves. It is good fantasy though.

Kekexili, China 2004, Chuan Lu – This is fun enough and alien enough to get it probably more credit than it deserves. In some ways, it reminds me of Atanarjuat, though less overtly great.

Inside Man, USA 2006, Spike Lee – Spike Lee is way underrated. Sure, he gots his agenda and his polemic, but he does not mind bringing some thoughtfulness to his shit. And this being more or less a commercial joint, he's a splendid craftsperson.

The Journals of Knud Rasmussen, Canada 2006, Norman Cohn and Zacharias Kunuk – Speaking of Atanarjuat, this sophomore effort from the identical creative team in some ways is not as good (not as expansive nor "fresh"), but in that it tackles some more solid issues of gender and culture, and allows the audience to take these issues home, it's provocative.

Honorable mention (in no order of preference)

Letters of Iwo Jima, Eastwood – Serviceable, which at a minimal is what Eastwood is, and that's meant to be a compliment.
Casino Royale, Campbell – The action piece in the beginning was exceptional.
The New World, Malick – If Lynch's Inland Empire was a mess at least, it have the good sense not to cast the unbearable Colin fucking Farrell.
Red Desert, Antonioni – Michelangelo is always a favorite, unfortunately, I'm not as down with this as his other stuff.
The Host, Bong – A pleasant surprise with Ba Du Nae in a supporting role. What Godzilla (the American version) should have been.
Loft, Kurusawa – Kurusawa has been getting a free pass, essentially since the exquisite Kairo. Entertaining and sometimes excitement.

Dishonorable mention (in no order of non preference)

The Last King of Scotland, Macdonald – A waste of a good Whitaker, and I otherwise despise this movie.
A Bittersweet Life,Kim – Some Korean gangster revenge melodrama of some sort. Forgettable, and eh.