Saturday, October 9, 2010
Only the Lonely (1991)
A Chicago cop must balance loyalty to his overbearing mother and a relationship with a shy funeral home worker.
Maureen O'Hara plays the overbearing mother so frighteningly well, the movie turns out to be more a realistic drama than a romantic comedy.
Maureen O'Hara plays the overbearing mother so frighteningly well, the movie turns out to be more a realistic drama than a romantic comedy.
William S. Burroughs: The Cat Inside
September 12, 1984. Sometimes Fletch will bite me petulantly when I try to carry him away from a play scene he wants to continue. Not hard enough to hurt, just an irritable teenage nip..."Leave me alone! I want to play!" A few minutes ago he knew I was going to put him out and he didn't want to go so he crawled under a low desk where I couldn't reach him. Such human child reactions.
Esquerita
With a six-inch pompadour, brocaded shirts, rhinestone shades, and a rhythmic, belligerent style of piano playing, Esquerita was the original Little Richard, years before Mr. Penniman tutti-frutti'd his way to stardom. Working around the Dallas-New Orleans circuit in the early '50s, Esquerita's shot at the big time came when Capitol Records decided they needed their own version of Little Richard, after signing their answer to Elvis, Gene Vincent. The resulting recordings, though smartly produced, stand as some of the most untamed and unabashed sides ever issued by a major label. Long revered by rock & roll fans the world over, they make Little Richard's Specialty sides look highly disciplined by comparison. Though Esquerita continued to record in a tamer style through the '60s, his Capitol sides stand as a monument to the potential of rock & roll's lunatic power and the off-kilter genius of Esquerita.Thursday, October 7, 2010
David Ackles
I used to have this album and I'll try to get it on CD. David Ackles was one of the greatest American singer-songwriters who never got the attention he deserves.
Bio:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Ackles
I went out to Montana
with a Bible on my arm,
Looking for my fathers
on a long-abandoned farm,
and I found what I came looking for.
I drove into a churchyard
of what used to be the town;
Walked along a cowpath
trough the fences falling down,
'til I found what I came looking for.
Through the dust of summer noons,
over grass long dying,
To read the stone and lumber runes
where my past was lying.
High among hillsides and windmill bones,
soft among oak trees and chimney stones,
Blew the wind that I came looking for.
And the wind blew over the dry land,
and dusted my city soul clean,
To read in my great-grandfather's hand
from his bible newly seen :
Born James McKennon, 1862
Married Leantha, 1884
two sons born in Montana,
Praise the Lord !
The gentle wind
of passing time,
Closed the bible pages;
and took my hand
and had me climb
closer to the ages.
The picket fence, the lattice frame,
the garden gone to seed,
Leantha with the fragile name,
Defying place and need,
Declares this bit of prairie "tame",
and sees her fingers bleed,
and knows her sons won't live the same,
but she must live her creed.
The fallen barn, the broken plow,
the hoofprint-hardened clay;
where is the farmer, now,
who built his dream this way ?
Who felled the tree and cut the bough
and made the land obey,
who taught his sons as he knew how,
but could not make them stay.
Who watched until the darkness fell
To know the boys were gone, and never loved the land so well
from that day on.
"Father James," they wrote him,
each a letter once a year,
words of change that broke him
with the new age that was here,
and the new world they'd gone looking for.
The clouds arose
like phantom herds,
and by the dappled lighting
I read again
the last few words
in a woman's writing :
March 1st,1921
last night, Papa died.
Left one plow, a horse, his gun,
his bible, and his bride.
The long grass moved beside me
in the gentle summer rain,
and made a path to guide me
to a sudden mound of grain.
A man and wife are buried there,
children to the land;
with young green tendrils in her hair,
and seedlings in his hand.
I went out to Montana
with a bibble on my arm,
Looking for my fathers
on a long-abandoned farm,
and I found what I came looking for.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
First Lines: Charles Dickens - A Tale of Two Cities
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.
New Stuff: The Rough Guide to the Best Music You've Never Heard
I guess I needn't explain why I bought this book. Looking through the contents I find a lot of musicians and bands I already know, but still there is enough new names for me to check out.
Illustrator: Florian Bertmer
Find more at:
http://www.florian-bertmer.com
and
http://florianbertmer.blogspot.com
Monday, October 4, 2010
First Lines: James Joyce - Finnegans Wake
riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.
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