Best of Halloween (According to Me)

So, today is Halloween. Like most holidays, the build-up to it is usually bigger than the holiday itself. The most horrifying thing I'm dealing with today is grading mid-term exams, but I'm still watching some seasonally-appropriate video. Here is a list of some of my favorites in the "supernatural"/scary category:


Ghost Hunters: Season 2, Part 2, and Season 3, Part 1: The show has its ups and downs, but these episodes are seriously the best ever. They include the St. Augustine Lighthouse episode, the Stanley Hotel episode (first one), the Waverly Hills Sanatorium, the Stone Lion Inn, the Crescent Hotel, Leap Castle, and the Lisheen Ruins. Every one of these episodes has stuff happen that could make your hair stand on end. My father always complains that he doesn't like Ghost Hunters because most of the time, "nothing happens". A lot of things definitely happened in these episodes--full body apparitions on tape at St. Augustine and the Crescent Hotel, Dustin getting knocked flat by an unseen thing at Leap Castle, and the weird figures on the thermal imaging at Lisheen. Good to watch over and over again.


Paranormal State: Season 1: A lot of people have voted Paranormal State's "I am Six" episode as the scariest, but I think that the first season has some of the creepiest episodes. "The Dark Man, " "The Name", and "The Devil in Syracuse" are some of my favorites. (Did Elfie really do an LBRP in the "Dark Man" episode without invoking the names of God? Or did they just edit her piece?) I always get excited when psychic-medium Chip Coffey is on. While the other psychics are fine, Chip tends to amaze me consistently. Michelle Belanger is also very good, though I have to admit I find the whole "psychic vampire" thing a little weird.


The Haunting: This is the original movie made in the Sixties with Julie Harris and Clare Bloom. I had a chance to see this movie on the side of a mausoleum in Los Angeles, at the Forgotten Hollywood cemetery. Great fundraising idea--charge ten bucks to see a scary movie in a cemetery at night. They use the money to maintain and restore monuments in the cemetery. But back to the movie--it has all of the great elements of a scary movie: there are a lot of unexpected happenings after its dead quiet, and the thing that's haunting is very much unseen. It particularly affects Eleanor, Julie Harris's character. Given her history, you get the sense that it's a psychological as well as a physical phenomenon. Psychological horror is the best, in my opinion.


The Amityville Horror: I don't really know whether this was truly a hoax or not. The movie is a bit over the top (and the sequels were a waste of film), but I did see some of the time lapse footage from the real investigation of the place, and that made my skin crawl. If it wasn't faked, I don't know what the heck was going on--all I know is that this mysterious child with the creepiest eyes suddenly appears in an empty house at around 3:00 in the morning. I hear that the house had no more activity after that time, so it's hard to say just what, if anything, was going on. Still, real-life events, or ones that seem like they really could be real-life, are often the scariest. The music in the movie is really disturbing. For an interesting blurb on how music can affect the atmosphere of a movie, click here.

The Others: This was the movie with Nicole Kidman, living in a house on the Isle of Jersey that appears to be haunted. The twist ending on this was great.

Sleepy Hollow: The Johnny Depp film that features Christopher Walken as the Headless Horseman. I'm a huge fan of the real Sleepy Hollow/Tarrytown area, and while this interpretation takes quite a bit of license with Irving's original story, it's still a cool movie nonetheless. I've seen versions of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow that are very true to the book, and honestly--they're annoying. Ichabod Crane is a truly irritating character. You want him to get his head knocked off.

Bram Stoker's Dracula: This Coppola film is my favorite Dracula interpretation. Yes, it's partly love-story, but it's just so very well done. I still cringe when they cut from the scene where the vampire Lucy's head is cut off to the roasted pig at the dinner table.

Blair Witch Project: Yes, I know. You either love or hate this movie. I know that when I saw it, I didn't sleep well for several nights. The wayward cameras are annoying, but it is sufficiently suspenseful--and once again, you don't see the "monster", so it's great.

Paranormal Activity: This one is still in theaters, so if you haven't seen it and like scary movies, do so. I slept with the lights on for a week after seeing this. Check out my blog posting from last week to see my take on Paranormal Activity. Great psychological horror.

Ah well, back to the horror of grading, some Sam Adams Octoberfest, and poetry writing. Happy Halloween! Oiche Samhain!

Interactions (Or the Lack Thereof)

Recently I read Cracked.com’s post on “7 Great Occupations for Horribly Stupid People”. The number one item on this list was “Best Buy employee”. Interestingly, the reason they were listed as the stupidest is that they constantly interrupted your shopping with the phrase, “Are you finding everything OK?”

I want to know where such Best Buys exist. There is a Best Buy that is a relatively convenient distance from where I live, and I used to go there to purchase electronics. Not anymore. For whatever reason, New Jersey Best Buys are staffed by hibernating bears. I will inevitably see some of them lumbering around, awake from their naps, when I enter the store. There is someone to greet me when I come through the door. I will find what I am looking for, which will be inside a case created for one of Houdini’s original escapes, and requires approximately 4,750 keys to open. My only hope of getting at the product I need is to locate a salesperson. At this point, the salespeople can detect that I need help. I can imagine an alarm going off in the employee lounge, that says “Alert! Customer needs assistance! LEAVE THE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY!” The whole store suddenly goes quiet except for whatever inane music they are playing, and the staff suddenly vanish. The ones who are not so quick to leave avoid eye contact and try to scurry out on their hands and knees to the nearest exit. You think I’m kidding.

I’ve discussed my “Best Buy” experience with other Jersey folk, and they have encountered a similar phenomenon. You might blame the drinking water or the mafia, but I suspect this is an East Coast thing. Best Buy employees that seek to help you are clearly working in the Midwest, or perhaps down South. It’s been years since I’ve been out to either part of the country, but from what I recall, everyone who worked in retail in Missouri or in Alabama was so nice that it made you suspicious if you weren’t from there. (They’re also really slow, but that’s another matter). When my brother moved to Austin, Texas from New York City, he was alarmed by his first grocery store experience, where they not only packed your groceries, but took them to your car for you. And they actually made pleasant conversation and thanked you for coming in. When I was traveling through Ohio and Indiana, every time I stopped at a store, restaurant or hotel, they acted like customer service was actually of personal interest to them, in spite of the fact that they were being paid 5 bucks an hour. You’d think you’d landed in Disney World or something.

On a minimally (OK, barely) related note, Facebook has changed their interface yet again, presumably in the name of improving our “experience”. I’m not as angry about the changes as some folks (I’ve stopped caring, truthfully), but some of the changes have had rather comical results. For instance—they’ve always had those annoying “friend suggestions”. They’re always helpfully suggesting that I friend people who are ex-boyfriends, stalkers, and other folks that I have, at some point, tended to spend some energy avoiding in my day-to-day interactions. Below the friend suggestions they now have this “new” thing to get you to “reconnect” with Facebook friends you haven’t interacted with in awhile, or to suggest friends for people who don’t have many friends. Some people who don’t have many friends do so by choice; others I look at and say, “Really? They actually HAVE 10 friends? In real life and not just Facebook land?” I can’t really help those people. I allowed them to friend me, even though I probably have little to do with them in day-to-day life, but perhaps they were a colleague, or someone I knew years ago. While I don’t hate these people, I do recognize there is a reason why they don’t have friends. (Sorry if that sounds mean, but it’s just a sad fact sometimes).

Paranormal Activity

I had the day off today, so on a whim I decided to go to the theater and see the new and hyped "Paranormal Activity" movie. Touted as the "scariest movie ever", I was more curious about the plot and its potential to be a great film without idiotic, expensive special effects. I make a point of avoiding Hollywood-made horror movies, because they leave so little to the imagination, and often overdo the blood and gore.

While I wouldn't call it "the scariest movie ever", it was still pretty scary, and lived up to my expectations. Here are some of my thoughts on the film. Bear in mind that the movie is a work of FICTION; there has been a lot of Internet hype suggesting that it's a real documentary, or based on a real story. It's not. However, from what I've heard from specialists who work on demonic cases, it's a reasonably accurate depiction of a demonic haunting (though I don't think the ending is particularly accurate).

The story centers around Micah and his girlfriend Katie, who live together in his house in San Diego. Micah is a day trader, and Katie is still at university, where she majors in English literature. The characters are played quite well; Katie is your typically sweet college girl, and rather naive. Micah is probably a fairly average guy himself, but he is also controlling, selfish and arrogant, three qualities that are trouble in this film. Katie will argue with him, but rarely has the will to stand up to him. We learn that Katie is plagued by some kind of weird activity, and has been since she was young (either 8 or 11 years old, I can't exactly remember). When she moves in with Micah, weird activity starts to occur, and he decides he is going to be an amateur ghostbuster and try to capture audio and video of the disturbances. He claims to be doing so to help her, but he's really doing it because he gets a charge out of seeing "cool" stuff on camera. He tells Katie to do things to provoke whatever it is (which she refuses to do), and he tries to provoke it himself. More than likely, he is afraid of what he doesn't understand, and tries to respond by bullying it or making light of it. But he makes things worse.

Katie asks a man who she refers to as a "psychic" to come in to give his opinion. This struck me as the most unbelievable part. First, the man is supposed to be a respected paranormal investigator, but he starts the whole thing by interviewing Katie, something a psychic would not do. They would get their impressions first, tell the client what they are, and then interview them for more info, not the other way around. This psychic identifies the entity as demonic, and says he's not qualified to deal with it, but gives her the name of a colleague who is a demonologist. Micah, who has spent the whole visit taunting and making fun of the psychic, tells her she should not call the demonologist, that he would figure out a solution. He suggests using a Ouija board, which the psychic flatly tells him is a bad idea, as he will be giving this thing an open door. Katie is dead set against the Ouija board, but Micah ends up bringing one in anyway. He doesn't actually use it, but its presence is enough to cause trouble. When the same psychic returns later, he won't even walk in the door, and tells her she will have to "wait" until the other expert comes back in a few days. Anyone called upon in an emergency situation who walks out like that without helping--especially someone who supposedly has a big network of paranormal investigators--well, it seems as incredulous as the idea of an EMT who won't help a dying person because they're not sure they properly remember a particular aspect of first aid. But I suppose the eventual lack of help is part of the story. I noticed that you could tell when something was about to happen by the sound--it sounded like a subway car coming, from the perspective of someone at the street level.

I don't want to give away any more of the film, especially the ending. As someone who is somewhat familiar with the subject of demonology and evocation, I found myself cringing at Micah's cretinous behavior. Clearly he doesn't believe in the phenomena, or thinks he can control it. If he had left well enough alone, and left it to the experts, all probably would have ended well. I can't help thinking of shows like Fear Factor and Extreme Paranormal, which basically dare people to try spirit communication or demonic rituals. I've already stated my opinion that most demonic activity is psychological in nature. That doesn't mean it can be controlled--it's actually harder to control. Just look at a simple example--the old "don't think of pink elephants" and you can't help but to think of pink elephants. It also doesn't mean that you're not dealing with something physical, or that can affect the physical. If you're not prepared for such things--and most people are not--then you're just asking for bad trouble. If you want to suspend disbelief and pretend this is a real case, Micah is really behaving evilly because his macho, arrogant behavior isn't just hurting him, it's destroying his girlfriend, who he professes to love. Of course, part of the whole thing may be the demon affecting his actions as well. It's hard to know.


In any case, I thought it was pretty well done for a low budget film, and I appreciated the fact that it was low on fancy special effects and left more to the imagination. That makes it much scarier to me--the scariest monsters are the unseen ones. The actors were very believable in their roles, and didn't overdo anything. There was a great buildup of suspense, especially when the camera was on the couple at night--you just knew something was going to happen, and you were never quite prepared for what. The ending was a bit shocking, though not entirely surprising, and not the least bit unjustified. If you like good horror flicks that are not gory, I highly recommend this one.

Positive Thinking

I was alerted to the publication of a new book this week entitled “Bright-sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America” by Barbara Ehrenreich. I have yet to read the book; it seems that the author’s premise is that the concept of “positive thinking” (something you wouldn’t need if you trusted in a good outcome anyway) has often made us put faith in ideas that are dubious, harmful, and/or just plain wrong. Thinking positively is a very American trait, and tends to make us think we’re the greatest even when we’re doing something very stupid.

I don’t want to comment further on the book until I’ve actually read it. But the idea is intriguing, and it addresses something I’ve believed for a long time. When the book “The Secret” came out a couple of years ago, I cringed at its message regarding the Law of Attraction. It may be a generally reasonable guideline to assume that a positive outlook attracts good fortune. But the idea that your puny rationalizations can overcome the psyche are naïve—often the mind controls us, rather than the other way around. Trying to use the mind to control the mind just doesn’t work. The mind is much bigger than you think it is.

Let me give an example. A couple of days ago, I had a post entitled “A Week in the Life”. In that post, I discussed all of the things that occurred during the preceding week of my life. If you read the post, you’d realize that nothing happened that was so awful or cataclysmic. I realized that too—I realized it all week. Yet, that entire week, I was anxious, drained and edgy, as though I was fighting some major battle or dealing with some overwhelming catastrophe. I kept telling myself, “Get a grip—none of this is a big deal.” Did that help one iota? No. Feelings can take you over like a tidal wave, and all you can do is swim frantically and hope that you don’t drown.

Eventually I did get myself on an even keel again; not through positive thinking, but through meditation. The point of going back to regular meditation after falling off schedule was to re-center myself. The re-centering allows you to deal with ups and downs as they occur, not to pretend that there are no downs.

If positive thinking worked, then diets would be successful long-term, all of our endeavors would have the outcome we wish for, no one would want for anything—just as long as they had the right attitude. But it’s a little like the rationalization for prayer (and by prayer, I mean petitionary prayer).If I pray to God, and don’t get what I want, then God either doesn’t love me or doesn’t exist. It’s the same idiotic nonsense. Life isn’t about getting everything you want. In fact, life—to paraphrase Joseph Campbell—is primarily killing and eating, on its most basic level. Life itself is suffering. We don’t suffer because we have bad attitudes. We suffer because that’s the way life is. But, as it was once said, “be sure you are not suffering over your suffering”. It’s our response that makes the difference. Frequently we can’t change our state of mind regarding something, but we can change, or at least limit, our actions. You could be angry enough at someone to want to pummel them, but unless you like getting arrested, you probably will restrain yourself from doing it.

Today I was re-watching the episode on myth from Joseph Campbell’s “Power of Myth” series. Campbell suggests that the basic myths of the Orient versus the Occident really affect how a culture develops. The primary myth he discusses is the idea of God being part of creation/nature, or being separate from it. In the West, we tend to believe we are separate, that nature is somehow “corrupt” (the idea that one must be baptized to get rid of original sin reflects this idea). Once you have that separation, you now have “right” and “wrong”—one must strive to do what’s right, and avoid what’s wrong. But that’s less of an issue in the Eastern worldview. Everything simply is, and it is “good” in and of itself—even the “bad” things. Life is a game, and you play it, whether you’re dealt a good hand or a poor hand—you just try to play fair.

Pointless Debate

A lot of recent events in the news, most of them political, have me thinking about the virtue of debate. Debates begin with the assumption that there are at least two opposing sides to an issue (with a variety of viewpoints in between), and the idea is to look at the facts supporting the opposing sides. Putting formal debate-team work aside, the intended goal of a debate is to reach some kind of conclusion about the most fair and correct response to the issue in question.

The news is full of discussions about health care, the war in the Middle East, Obama’s Nobel Prize, gay rights, and the economy. All of these are potential subjects for a healthy debate. However, I would submit that a healthy debate (i.e., one that actually accomplishes the goal of reaching a conclusion regarding fair action) would require the following prerequisites:

• The parties involved in the debate would to some degree have a tolerant and open mind.
• The parties involved would have to be “reasonable”—i.e., the debate must center around facts and logic. While one may feel emotional about a topic, that should be secondary to determining a solution.
• The parties involved in the debate will have done some authoritative research on the facts surrounding their viewpoint on the issue.
• The parties must accept that “winning” the debate on either side may never happen; frequently it’s the case that a debated issue has valid points on both sides, and a compromise may need to be reached. This would call for some humility.

In most “debates” on contemporary events, none of this happens, or not enough of it. Debate on an important issue more closely resembles WWE wrestling match than reasoned arguing between reasonable people. Quotes are taken out of context and facts are skewed just so one side or the other can claim a victory. There are no ground rules; it’s a dirty fight, and sometimes actual force is used against opponents.

It leaves me with two questions: What happened to our country that it no longer can function like it has some level of sanity?, and If this is the future of debate, is there any value in it anymore? As I’ve discussed previously, journalism is mostly dead. There is an article in Atlantic magazine by Mark Bowden that looks at “journalism in action” with regard to the nomination of Sonia Sotomayor to the Supreme Court. It’s a good example of how sound bites and quotes heard third-hand spread false information—and how those spreading it don’t care, as long as they gain a point “for their side”.

At a time in history when many barriers to communication between groups has disappeared, it becomes important for people with different backgrounds and viewpoints to live together peacefully. There is no need to take on every person with a differing viewpoint—it can be draining, disrespectful, and arrogant. Before I owned a house and a washing machine, I had to go to the laundromat regularly. There was always a Jehovah’s Witness lady there who kept trying to start debates with me about my beliefs. Of course, it wasn’t real honest debate—it never is with those convinced of the absolute rightness of their viewpoints. In the end, I told her to go f**k herself and leave me alone. Sound harsh for someone who is a professor of religion? Perhaps, but it is a case of the pointlessness of that kind of debate. Nothing I say or do will make this woman think beyond what she’s already decided, and there is no way I will ever believe what she believes. Not to mention the fact that when I’m trying to do my laundry, I don’t want to be bothered by strangers. Which brings up another point—our views are private and personal. We don’t necessarily want to debate them with everyone.

De Tocqueville once said that democracy requires eternal vigilance. Frankly, it seems that we have an overload of stupid lately, and those with intelligent reasoning are getting too exhausted to respond anymore. What is the point of fighting people who won’t engage in intelligent, honest debate—who aren’t even PREPARED to do so, or would rather use force that facts? The great irony of Obama’s vision of America and his inclusive politics is that the barbaric and ignorant attitudes of many Americans are now exposed. Turns out they didn’t go away when Bush left office.

So tell me—is there a value in debating these issues? Has an ugly reality eclipsed the ideal of reasoned debate? And if it has—then what are the alternatives? When the door-to-door missionaries show up, I can tell them to go away. When it comes to national issues, neither the President nor Congress can tell everyone to go away. But what do you do when civilized debate fails? “Decisive” leadership is seen as tyranny (and sometimes it is). The only other alternative seems to be backing down from hot-button issues and doing nothing, or doing something that will amount to nothing in the long run. Am I right about this? Please say no.

The Irrational and the Undead (or, Halloween Hermeneutics)

Halloween will be here in about 3 weeks. I love Halloween. October is when I have outdoor fires, bake lots of goods with cinnamon, apples, nutmeg, cloves--all of the Fall spices, drink lots of Irish coffee and hot chocolate, and read ghost stories. I used to watch a lot of television around Halloween time; there used to be lots of specials about ghost stories, "true" hauntings (presented in such a way as to make you question their veracity, but fun nonetheless), and other programs about the supernatural and such. Over the last ten years or so, I've given up that tradition, and restricted myself to specials I'd bought or recorded years earlier.

You may wonder why. There is no shortage of Halloween programs on certain channels at this time of year--SciFi (now SyFy--can you hear my eyes rolling?), USA, Fox Family, all of the major network channels, all of the movie channels--they are all Halloween geared during October. So why don't I watch them?

The main reason I shy away from mainstream television at this time of year is that the subject matter of Halloween-ish films has changed. I can't say for sure if this change came about because of movies like "Halloween" (all iterations), "Friday the 13th" (all iterations), "Texas Chainsaw Massacre," and/or "Dawn of the Dead". But it seems to me that all Halloween-related movies are now about serial killers and zombies. The more blood and gore, the better. Scary stuff, I suppose. But is Halloween really all about being "scared" in such ways?

You could argue about the origins of Halloween, but I would suggest that Halloween as we know it comes from the Celtic New Year celebration of Samhain. Samhain was the end of the harvest season, the beginning of winter--and the time when the veil between the worlds was thin. One could contact their ancestors at this time of year. Indeed, many traditions like dressing up (usually gender-reversals in the ancient Celtic tradition) and bobbing for apples came from the old ceremonies celebrating the opening of the gates of the spirit world. Boundaries were thin, so the apparent roles and routines of the community were up-ended as well. It was part of the regular cycle of things, and the ancient Celts celebrated accordingly, and tried to reap the greatest benefit from the holiday by appealing to their ancestors.

You may or may not believe the bit about contacting one's ancestors and the "veil between the worlds" being thin. But that was the point of Halloween (a Christian naming of Samhain, meaning All Hallows Eve, as it's the day before All Saints Day), whether you do or not. It seems appropriate that one would contemplate life after death, would listen to ghost stories, and prepare for the coming winter. What I'm wondering is where the heck zombies and serial killers fit in to all of this. Okay, so they have to do with death, or states of un-death. Certainly vampires have become part of this "Halloweenish" lore as well. But mass media images tend to be a reflection on the culture, and so I say: Why these images?

Zombies are hugely fascinating to modern culture. Note the proliferation of zombie movies, the best-selling status of the Jane Austen knockoff called "Pride and Prejudice With Zombies"--even Cracked.com had a post on "Why you secretly hope for a zombie apocalypse." Out of all types of ghoul, why this kind?

One could never say for sure, but I think the zombies and serial killers have something in common--they represent solid flesh and blood (as opposed to a ghost one can't see), and at least one (the serial killers) could realistically be a threat. The odds are probably against it, but deranged, psychopathic people certainly do exist. It's less impossible than some of the alternatives.

In our culture that values science and scoffs at religion, that values reason and what can be seen and touched over what is pure speculation or perhaps fantasy--or with the paranoid religious that believe anything that smacks of the otherworld is "satanic" and should be avoided--I think we are gravitating towards the ghouls that can still scare us, and are a reflection of the current collective psyche. No one is unaffected by secular culture, even those who rebel against it. It seems to me that such frightening creatures are symbolic terrors of a secular society. One represents the deranged person that cannot be controlled by reason. The other represents a state of animation, but with no life--a frightening commentary on humans who are either controlled by their myths or have none at all. Movie zombies aside, how many people walk through life and never really are alive, never "live"? I would suggest that there are more people like this rather than less.

I am not suggesting that secularism is bad. But it's an indication that having nothing but reason in the face of uncertainty and death is not sufficient. Everyone has a question about the bigger picture. Neither religion nor science is providing a good answer for people, at least in Western society. That leaves the vast majority afloat in a sea of uncertainty, when the only things that are supposed to be of value are their bank accounts, their jobs, and their social status. A lot of people suspect there is more than this, but what can they do? What passes for religion these days (i.e., literalism--we're talking mass media here) is so absurd that anyone who thinks can't accept it. Yet the mystery still remains, but without any context, the speculation is scary. So, many people choose not to speculate at all--they live the lives others tell them to live, and shut out anything they don't understand. In short, they are zombies themselves. Hence, the attraction to the undead and the irrational at a time when speculation about uncertainty and death is at its yearly height.

A Week In The Life

It's a beautiful Fall Sunday, the kind that makes me want to go outside and do a million things and stay in bed at the same time. Fall is a gorgeous double-edged sword; beautiful weather, but more dust, mold, and allergens to give me a perpetual headache or sniffle. And that's with allergy shots, though I haven't had any in a couple of weeks. Even worse than headaches is the sensation that your head has the density of a bowling ball, and you can barely stand up or keep your eyes open. If it's happened to you, that's also allergies. It's exactly like taking Benadryl without taking Benadryl.

So, I am going to be more optimistic than I have been all week, and get myself outside today. Not that I haven't been out all week--you have not heard from me on this blog because my schedule has been screwed up more times than you can imagine. Here is a brief run-down:

Monday: Worked two jobs--taught my evening class in Religion, where my students seemed slightly more interested in the material than the week before. What irks me about my religion students (and I'm not picking on this group--it's true of EVERY group I've taught) is how uninterested they are in the Campbell/Moyers discussions. I usually show one or two episodes from the nine-part series in class--each episode is only forty-five to fifty minutes. They are absolutely frigging FASCINATING--even if you don't think much about religion, there's just so much to the discussions. My students always have the same reaction: "What do I need to pay attention to for the exam?" To be fair, I'm sure I was like that in some courses as an undergraduate. But it would make me feel vindicated if just one person showed an iota of intellectual curiosity about the subject. I know, I know--I expect too much from a gen-ed course.
But at least they could PRETEND. I'll settle for faking it.

Tuesday: Went to a class on prosody in Manhattan. This is an eight-week course on prosody that I have chosen to take even though I don't primarily write poetry. Believe it or not, I do write some poetry, but I think most of it is not very good, even for free verse. When I read about the poets who write good poetry, even the Moderns, they all had training in the discipline of prosody. I think that writing in meter and making use of literary techniques and devices can improve any kind of writing. The course is taught by David Yezzi, the former director of the Unterberg Poetry Center, who has his own body of published work, and has edited The New Criterion as well as other poetry collections. So far, I like the class, and the assignments are not daunting. We seem to have a mixture of people who are comfortable with disciplined meter writing off the cuff, and those who aren't. David is very good at working with the various skill levels in the class, so I think it will be an enjoyable eight weeks.

Wednesday: After a very productive day at work, I was looking forward to going home and relaxing. However, I came home to find a note from United Parcel Service on my door--they needed to deliver a package that required my signature. Long story short--the vet decided to have my cat's ashes mailed directly to my home rather than to them. I realize the vets are very busy and pressed for time these days, but this upset me. I would rather go there to pick up the remains than get them from the UPS guy. (Would you prefer to have the undertaker mail the remains of your loved one? Think about it). After a fruitless trip to the UPS facility (one used to be able to pick up packages when the trucks returned--no longer), I made arrangements to pick up the box the next day rather than have them deliver it. But it had effectively destroyed my plans for a quiet evening.

Thursday: Was on the run with work and errands (including picking up cat remains) until about 6:30 in the evening. Doesn't sound so bad, does it? No, except that I have to go to bed early during the week--I have to get up by 4:30 am for work each day. And I had to cook when I got home--I'd reached the point where the pantry has gotten low enough that I had to make a mess of dishes and cook something, rather than just throw together something simple. This would not be a problem on the weekend, but when I'm starving after a long day on the road...

Friday: I was really, really tired by Friday, so tired that I felt almost like I was on drugs. You force yourself to be very energetic and up, but it doesn't take much to make you totally crash. On Friday it was announced that President Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize. I intended to blog about this, but it never happened. The war over the Nobel Peace Prize took the rest of the energy that I had for the week--it absolutely raged on Facebook. My friend Chris has pointed out with regard to the debate that "every rose has its prick." I wanted to reply that I'd had enough pricks for the week, but someone would have doubtlessly interpreted my weekly activities differently if I'd said that. So, on that subject, I will say: Good for Obama. Yes, he hasn't done much of anything. Yes, I know the argument that one shouldn't give prizes based on potential accomplishment. Really, I saw the whole thing as a middle finger from Europe to the Bush Administration, but also as a statement to Obama. It's as though they're saying, "Okay, Obama, we're standing behind you and your promises of peace and cooperation. Now make it happen." The Cosmic Variance blog has a posting by Daniel that sums up his take on the prize, and I find that I agree with him. Rather than me restate what thirty thousand other bloggers have already discussed, I'll just point you to his excellent post here.

So, that's a week in my life. A typical week? Not necessarily. Some weeks have more things going on than others, some are more interesting, some are more boring. In the final analysis, I don't think it's what actually transpired that makes any difference, it's how I respond to it. This week has not been a great response week for me, and I tend to be hard on myself if I let things get to me. Which makes the problem worse, now that I think about it. Sounds like I need time out for some serious meditation or something.

Speaking of anxiety, I'll leave you with this interesting New York Times article on the "anxious mind". When I read the description, I realize it fits me and most of the people I know. Welcome to excessive stress hormone production by an overactive amygdala! No wonder we're all so drained.

Doppelgängers

This weekend I started and finished the book, "Seeking Spirits : the Lost Cases of The Atlantic Paranormal Society" by Jason Hawes and Grant Wilson. If you've read my previous posts about the Syfy show Ghost Hunters (or if you are just a fan of the show), you will know that Jason and Grant are the lead investigators of The Atlantic Paranormal Society (TAPS), whose cases are the focus of Ghost Hunters. The book is a fairly light read, so I easily finished it in a few hours. I highly recommend it--I couldn't put it down once I started it. Jason and Grant describe all sorts of cases, from demonic encounters to living ghosts replaying past events, to an old woman with dementia who forgot that she called them and threatened them with a frying pan after inviting them into her living room. They describe "human" hauntings, inhuman hauntings, and residual hauntings. But the one case that still has me scratching my head after reading the book was the one about the doppelgänger.

Doppelgängers are described by Wikipedia as a "sinister type of bilocation". One literally sees their double, or others who know them see their double. Traditionally, these are associated with bad luck or death. Supposedly, if friends or relatives see the doppelgänger, it means sickness or danger to the living person. If a person sees their own doppelgänger, it's supposed to mean their death. In neuropsychology, the doppelgänger phenomenon is supposedly explained by a failure of the left temporoparietal junction of the brain. In experiments, the failure of this part of the brain has led to the hallucination that there is a "copy" of the sufferer nearby. But none of this explains what happens in the story.

In the story told by Jason and Grant, they are called to a case by a man who thinks his wife is losing her mind--every time he tells her something, she swears he's never told her. He begins writing down exactly what he tells her, and the date and time. Every time she denies he's told her any of it, and gets miffed at the idea that she needs psychological help. Something occurs that makes him wonder if something paranormal isn't going on, so he calls TAPS. Jason and Grant quickly discover that there are 2 identical "women" in the house, even though both the husband and wife have a hard time accepting this. They try to bring the women together, but when they are just about to, the doppelgänger gets antsy, and takes off for another room, where she totally vanishes. After TAPS's visit and investigation, the doppelgänger stops bothering them, and is never seen again. The spirit could be spoken to just like a regular human being, and would answer, but never interacted with anything--it would never touch anything in the house.

The first and most obvious thought is that it's a hoax and the woman has a twin. But the woman is only seen for about 30 seconds at a time, and when Grant "corners" her in a room--thinking he can finally bring the real and fake woman together--the woman gets shaky, and turns and opens a door in the room to leave. But the "room" she enters is a clothes closet--there's nowhere for her to go. And upon immediate investigation, no one is in the clothes closet. Given how shaken up the couple was at discovering the doppelgänger (the "real" woman refused to believe anything was going on at all at first, and the husband was skeptical when told), it seems unlikely that it was a hoax--especially since the case was never intended to be publicized.

If we can assume it's not a hoax--then what the hell is it? Clearly this is not a failure of the temporoparietal junction--unless it failed in all 4 people involved. That would be logical if only one person was seeing the doppelgänger. If you look at the superstitions, the woman was not sick, or in danger--nor did she die. So, if you're a believer in that idea, that doesn't wash either. Why in the world--or how in the world--would a perfect double of someone appear in their house? Jason and Grant don't have the answer; neither do I. Anyone else have any thoughts or theories about this?

Small Towns

I am sitting at home today, taking care of some things before heading to Manhattan this afternoon. As a follow-up to last weekend's post, Andromeda the cat is now, as my undergrad metaphysics professor once referred to it, "a former cat". All of that pissing was due to diabetes--and very complicated diabetes. Faced with the prospect of a $12,000 hospital bill to flush her system, plus having to come home at the same time every day to give shots to a cat that would rip my arm off before she would let me give her shots, I opted for putting her down. It's weird not to have her here, but the stress level in the house has gone down considerably now that I don't have to worry about stepping in cat piss every morning.

I was perusing my usual RSS feeds and Fark.com, when I came across this article:

Ongoing Highway 11/64 Mattress Controversy

The Fark tagline for this was: "How do you know you live in a small town? When the "growing controversy" in the news that is driving talk radio debate is about a mattress left on the side of the road." Yes, people are protesting the fact that public works has not yet picked up this mattress discarded at the side of the road. It's been a hot topic on the radio for several days now.

Those of you who live in large, interesting cities will doubtlessly be in disbelief that someone would waste air time on something so utterly, banally inane. But I've lived in a small town for 6 years now, and I can tell you that this is no surprise. About three years ago, we had a heated political debate in our town about--get ready for this--the fact that speed bumps were placed along Main Street. People angrily strode into town meetings, complaining about not being consulted, treating it like a corrupt political decision. During the mayoral election that followed, the new mayor was elected (like Dave Barry, I swear I am not making any of this up) on the platform of being "the guy who will get rid of the speed bumps."

I rarely go into the local general store--only if it's snowing, and I can't get out of the neighborhood to go anywhere else and I'm desperate to pick up milk or something like that. The few times I've gone in there, it's like a scene from the movie "Deliverance". I would swear that I even hear people speaking with Southern accents. And we're in New Jersey--halfway between New York City and Philadelphia. They always look at you suspiciously, as though they suspect you are one of those hippie renters in town that they hate.

The other sign that you live in a pathetically small town is the prominence of the fire department. I realize the fire department is very important, and I'm not criticizing them. But the firemen are not out every day putting out fires, they're usually at some local legion hall drinking shitty beer. One's social status in town is connected with whether or not you are a member of the fire department or the ladies' auxiliary. I have had men in this town try to pick me up based on the fact that "they hang out with the fire department." And you people wonder why I don't date.

The main social event is a small town is the fire department's sponsored dinner or breakfast. I have never been to one of these, though I imagine they're every bit as exciting as they sound. I am grateful for my neighbor, who knows the gossip about everyone and everything going on in town, and likes to share the news with me while I'm out raking leaves or mowing the lawn. Her inclination to share local information saves me from ever having to attend some public event to find out just what's going on. Though honestly, I don't really care much about what's going on in the rest of the neighborhood. I only want to know about things that affect me, like changes to my water bill or garbage collection.

Recently, a friend of mine who lives in London posted info about a party he was giving at his flat for someone's birthday. Another friend of his posted video from this party. After seeing it, I had 2 questions: 1. Just how big IS your flat?, and 2. Do your neighbors hate you? If that were to happen in my neighborhood, not only would the neighbors hate you, it would probably spawn urban legends in a matter of days. On the plus side, the only thing the neighbors would actually do about it is make snide comments about you, probably at the local fireman's dinner, which you wouldn't attend anyway. No one has the gumption to actually talk to anyone about anything controversial here, especially if they're your neighbors. To be fair, some of the neighbors are rather strange, so it's hard to blame anyone for not wanting to talk to them, especially if they seem to have a violent streak. Murders and suicides do occasionally occur in this little town, and they're probably the only excitement.

Another characteristic of a small town is the lack of emphasis on education. Sure, most of our tax dollars go into schools, but most kids here do not go on to college, or at least not past community college. Most just want to go into a trade, which is fine. That's one of the perks, actually--if you want something done on your house, just call up your neighbor who does plumbing, or roofing, or whatever. And be sure to tell your other neighbors. This sets up a peer pressure situation; if the said contractor doesn't show up, he will be vilified by the community as doing bad business and lose money as a result. So, they always show up and the price is always half of what a big company would charge.

But getting back to education--there are only a smattering of intellectuals in my town, usually college professors who can't afford to live anywhere else. My neighbor once told me that when we talk, she can't understand half of what I'm saying because I "use all them big words". This is a failing of my own, actually. When I was 6 years old and in the first grade, I was in a fourth grade reading class. I took Latin for seven years, and French. You know those quizzes where you can donate 10 grains of rice to a poor village for every vocabulary word you define correctly? I think I fed an entire starving African nation with my score on that one. I nearly swooned with lust when John Foxx used the word "palimpsest" in a sentence at the London Apple Store event this summer. I love words. I'm something of a dork in that way. I apologize.

So--I'm dealing with a group of basically nice but rather isolated folks. The social scene doesn't do it for me here, but it's nice when I want to relax and be alone. There are lots of places to go hiking and such, and lots of places that make their own beer--really good beer. So, it's not all bad. But right now, I'm off to New York. Look for me in the audience on the Colbert Report tonight.

An Open Letter to Andromeda the Cat

Dear Andromeda:

You and I have been together for about 9 years. I remember when I adopted you in December of 2000, at the Noah's Ark shelter in Ledgewood. I was still married then, and had 3 other cats living in the house. All of those cats have died since then, but I remember how you had to hold your own as a kitten among all of these not-so-friendly faces. And you did pretty well.

Of course, while you were cute and cuddly, you also broke a couple of lamps, and decided to use some of my LPs as a scratching post. (Yes, those same LPs that Mommy has kept locked up in a cabinet in the living room to avoid you getting your little claws into them. And then you pissed all over the bottom of the cabinet and ruined it. I guess you showed me!). This led to your former Daddy making the comment that you were "a little shit". While he wasn't always right about things, he was certainly right about that.

You are now almost 10 years old. Cats are senior citizens at 7, so you're getting up there in kitty years. I remember last year that you were a little butterball. I have no idea why, as you hardly ate any food, and if snacks were offered, you usually refused them. Almost 3 years ago, when Ariel, the last of your original "brothers" died, you were the last cat standing. Every day I came home from work and you cried and cried--it was clear that you were lonely, even though you and Ariel appeared to view each other as putrid compost heaps during your last few years together. So, Mommy broke down and adopted another cat to keep you company. Shiva is a nice cat, and I know, he does push you around a bit (guy cats can be like that), but you seem to like him--you'll eat next to him, sleep near him on the bed.

The one thing you don't seem to want to do is share a litterbox with him. Ever since he came into the house, you've always pooped outside your litterbox, on the floor. There are two BIG litterboxes, and I keep both very clean. I've gotten used to that, though--a little pile of normal poop is not difficult to clean up--I just need to keep disinfectant wipes handy in the bathroom all the time. Not thrilled, but not a deal breaker.

Then you put on that weight, and when I started teaching 2 night classes during the week last Fall, you started pissing on the bathroom floor. I can assure you that I got no joy out of coming home at midnight and cleaning up cat piss. It also meant going through tons of paper towels and having to buy special cleaners. You see, Mommy's normal cleaners contain ammonia, which is also the chief ingredient in cat piss. Not good to clean ammonia with ammonia. You may enjoy the smell, but Mommy does not. I took you to the vet, who gave you a clean bill of health after $500 worth of tests. She then gave me some "kitty prozac" pills to give you, but I never did. Your siblings were always good about taking their medicine, but you--well, let's just say the vet would have to prescribe some prozac for Mommy as well if I had to start trying to medicate you every day. But fortunately--miraculously--you stopped pissing on the floor, and went back to your litterbox. You still pooped on the floor, but didn't piss. I could live with that.

Over this year, you've lost a ton of weight--now you're a scrawny little thing with the appetite of a 70 pound dog. This probably does mean that something is wrong, but all other indications have been fine. Until this summer, when you started peeing on the floor again. And now it wasn't just the bathroom. Now it's the living room floor as well. The bathroom floor has a special non-porous tile that I put in especially for such urination events, as it doesn't absorb odors. However, the living room floor is an old pine floor from the 1850s. I've had the wood treated, but it still tends to be a bit more porous. I have avoided taking you to the vet, because frankly I don't have another 500 bucks for tests.

This week, I have thrown out the aforementioned cabinet that once held my LPs and other things. Did I mention that cabinet cost over $300? No matter--you like to piss right next to it, so the aroma of cat pee is permanently embedded into the feet, and it's too heavy to move and clean. So, out it went, along with the rug you destroyed. I have spent this morning pouring gallons of Nature's Miracle onto the floor, letting it sit, and mopping it up, even pulling all the furniture out of the living room to do it, in the desperate hope that this lingering odor of cat pee will go away. The bottle says it could take up to two weeks. We will see.

In the meantime, I'm going to level with you. You're a sweet kitty and I love you. But I cannot live like this. I am spending a small fortune on special cleaning products, and I am going through almost 4 full rolls of paper towels a week. Every day when I wake up, every night if I get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night--and every night that I come home from work, I am cleaning up cat piss. And I am losing my mind. I can't take it anymore.

You are going to the vet on Tuesday. I am hoping for one of two things--either she finds a UTI and gives you an antibiotic that will clear things up, or you will be so freaked out by the vet visit that you'll stop pissing on the floor. If she finds cancer, I'm afraid it will be adios for you--you've clearly passed the stage of "manageable". If she finds NOTHING wrong with you, and you continue to pee on the floor--then you're being adopted out to a rescue agency--I'll pay the damn $200 fee. Maybe you'll be happier somewhere else. Or, I could do the thing that would make me feel the worst--have you put down even though you're healthy otherwise. I hope it doesn't come to that.

So, Andromeda--if this is all "behavioral", I suggest you get the fuck over it and fly right. Because you're not going to be happy with any of the alternatives. Got it?

With Much Love,
"Mommy"

The Guide to Brigid For the Romantically Perplexed

I was having a late lunch between errands at a restaurant recently, and a funny thing happened. While talking to the waiter, he alluded to the fact that he considered me something of a "character". Why? Well, what kind of strange person goes to a restaurant by themselves, and doesn't sit at the bar? Well, of course I don't sit at the bar. Sitting at the bar implies that I'm trying to pick up someone. The last thing I want to do is talk to the sort of folks that hang out in bars, at least in the United States. I doubt we'd have much in common, and I'm not looking for romance. I'm just looking for food.

But that brief exchange made me think about my habits. As I've mentioned before, I'm divorced, and I have no qualms about going certain places by myself. Restaurants are one of them. I know people who can't stand to go anywhere by themselves. I don't think that's a sign of anything except your own discomfort with your own company. Frankly, I'd rather be alone by myself than alone with someone else. Yes, I do date men, but those dates are few and far between. You might interpret that fact to mean that either a.) I have some significant flaw that keeps me from getting dates, or b.) that I'm a lesbian. Neither of those things is true. I do get propositioned from time to time, and my usual response is "no." At the same time, I would very much like to have another relationship. So, what's up with that?

Given the frustrated and puzzled reactions I've had regarding my behavior with the opposite sex, I now bring you: the Guide to Brigid for the Romantically Perplexed. I realize that I don't always play by the same assumptions and rules as others when it comes to relationships. So, if you're a guy and uncertain as to whether or not I'm interested in you, consider these few guidelines:

1. I do believe that a woman can be "just friends" with a guy. I'm a very friendly person, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm interested in you beyond that.

2. When I do happen to go to a bar or restaurant by myself, I'm not looking to hook up. I usually just want food or beer, and time to read my book or work on my writing. If you talk to me, I'll be polite, but I really don't want conversation if I've got a book or a notebook in my hand.

3. There is rarely a middle ground for me. Either I could dig getting together with you, or don't even think about it. If I'm interested in you, I will respond positively to bad jokes, stupid pick-up lines, and any other clumsy attempts at courtship. If I don't respond, or I roll my eyes and walk away--don't sweat it, I wasn't interested in the first place. If you ask, "What can I do to make you interested?", and I'm not interested already--the answer is "Nothing."

4. I do not "hook up". That doesn't mean that I expect a lifetime commitment out of every relationship. But I can't just have sex with you and pretend it doesn't matter tomorrow. Sorry.

5. I do not respond well to "games". If you run hot and cold with me just to test me, I'm apt to walk away even if there is interest. Playing games is a way of trying to gain control, and I see no reason for either person to try to control the other. Level with me.

6. If I like you and you're married, all bets are off. I don't interfere with marriages.

7. If I like you and you have a girlfriend, I don't assume all bets are off, but the ball is in your court. I will never push someone already in a relationship beyond friends, even if I seem flirty at times. If you want a relationship with me enough to leave your current girlfriend, that is your call. I don't like women doing that to me in relationships, so I don't do it to them. It doesn't matter if I think they're an angel or a skank--if you've decided you want to be with them, I'm not questioning your decision.

8. I tend to be closer friends with men who are married or who are gay. That is because I feel there is little (or less) danger of them trying to get involved as more than friends.

9. Signs that I am interested in you include: making a huge effort to come see you (i.e., traveling a great distance, rearranging my crazy schedule for you, etc.), accepting your gifts on Facebook (this only applies after March 2009--I accepted all gifts before that), making an effort to communicate with you somewhat regularly (something I don't necessarily do, even with my own family). I may also tease you and appear critical, though in a joking way. I only do this regularly to men that I like. Occasionally I do it to others. But not regularly.

10. Signs that I'm not interested in you: Not replying to your flirty e-mails, not accepting your Facebook gifts, and basically being polite but not responding at all to any flirting attempts. Don't assume that no response means something is possible. I'm just trying to be kind and spare your ego. I may also think you make a great friend, and want to preserve the friendship.

A corollary to #10--I don't care for IMs from strangers. I don't mind receiving instant messages from people I know, but if I've never met you, I might respond the first time out of politeness, but if you keep it up you're not likely to get a reply. When I'm online I'm usually doing my writing or working at my day job, not surfing for porn or cat pictures. That means unless I know you, I'm not looking to chat.

Overall--you don't have to be a rocket scientist to get the whole chemistry thing. The fact that I'm not interested in someone doesn't mean they're a fetid pile of garbage; it just means there is no reciprocal chemistry on my side of things. I am cautious with men I'm attracted to--if I think they're attracted to me, I might be a bit shy, only because I'm not sure if I'm merely projecting my attraction onto them. If they give me a positive sign, and are not in a relationship already, I tend to be more open. If you see me as unsexual and frigid, I'm not--that usually means I'm not interested in you, or I'm holding back for some other reason (usually because you're already taken). I hate when men accuse you of being frigid, and then when you try to be friendly, they accuse you of leading them on. Spare me, please.

I don't go out "looking" for love--I follow my instincts, and if something seems right, I pursue it, albeit cautiously. I think good relationships take time, and I'm content enough to be by myself that I'm not in a hurry to grab myself a man. That doesn't mean that I wouldn't want a relationship with the right person. Who is the right person? I don't know. It would be someone who I have chemistry with (regardless of looks--they would look good to me), and someone who treats me honestly and with respect. My biggest problem is falling for men who are already committed, either through marriage or they have a serious girlfriend. I don't fall for someone too often, so this frequently means I go it alone. If that makes me a "character", so be it.

Found Footage Festival, Vol. 4 (New York Debut)

I've written a couple of blog postings in the past about the Found Footage Festival. For those of you who haven't seen those, and haven't heard of it--Found Footage Festival is the brainchild of Nick Prueher and Joe Pickett, who go to thrift stores, garage sales, estate sales, and other such places to find old VHS tapes. These end up being all sorts of "random" things--exercise videos, business presentations, celebrity instructional videos, etc. All of these are pretty dreadful, and Nick and Joe sort through them to put together shows that include "the best of the worst" of these tapes. There are three volumes of shows out already. Last night was the debut of the Volume 4 show.

I went to see the very first showing in New York last night, at the Anthology Film Archives on the Lower East Side. Brooklyn Brewery offered free beer for the show, which was great except that you couldn't bring beer into the theater, so you had to guzzle it down either before or after the show--and there wasn't much time. Brooklyn Brewery does make excellent beer, so it was a treat nonetheless.

I don't want to give away the whole show, so I'll just mention some of the highlights. Though it's hard to top Jack Rebney, this may be their best show yet. The show is made up of various montages or clips from videos with similar themes. Nick and Joe will give some background regarding the particular montage, and then show it. Occasionally they will have follow-up interviews with people in the videos, or present a spoof of their own related to a particular video or montage.

In this show, they started with Exercise Montage 5, a collection of dreadful exercise videos that included an insanely-babbling Jazzercise instructor, and a Milton Berle workout video, among many others. There were clips of a furniture salesman trying to film a commercial (and to save you money), bizarre celebrity instructional videos (including Phyllis Diller showing you how to have a garage sale), and montages of cartoons, computers, and sex instruction. They also had a slideshow of their favorite covers from various VHS tapes.

Some of the particular highlights: in a segment called "Andrew's grab bag" (named for the man who gave them the videos referenced), there was a man hawking a device called the "Venus II". This is a machine that allows guys to masturbate using this thing that looks like a tube hooked up to a car battery--with instructional video of the inventor using it on himself. Nick and Joe actually met the inventor's son, and then the inventor himself, and they presented an interview with him that they had taped. The Venus II device apparently costs about $1300, and the inventor actually let them take one, and they had it for show-and-tell. Joe confessed to taking a "test drive" with it, and said it was quite nice, though Nick pointed out that using one's hand was probably cheaper, and he didn't see why this was better.

They also had a video dating montage, from a dating service that gave men ninety seconds to record something about themselves to show women subscribed to the service. What they came up with was lame at best. One man went into a litany of what he didn't want from a woman, and one of the things he mentioned was "no hamsters" (?). After the montage, Nick and Joe did the best spoof of the night, making their own version of a video dating service featuring themselves and a few other guys that had me in tears with laughter. They called it "Beggars CAN Be Choosers", and it was absolutely hilarious. Joe, picking on the "no hamster" guy in the montage, repeatedly said, "What I do not want--no hamsters. I don't care if you're black, white, purple, or yellow--as long as you're not a hamster."

The whole show was really hilarious, which is why it was surprising that the guy running the projector fell asleep. In a tweet posted afterwards, they said it was the first time in 5 years a projectionist had fallen asleep at a show, and that he vaguely smelled of rum. The venue was pretty full, and when I left afterwards, the lobby was jammed with people waiting to see the second showing. They said they would be taping the show next week for the DVD, which is due out in November. You can pre-order it at the Found Footage website (link at the beginning of this post), and through October 15 there's free shipping. At the show itself you can pre-order for ten dollars--whether that will be true for all shows I don't know. They also mentioned they will be putting up a website of found videos "that must be seen right away", rather than waiting a year for another show.

So, if you like films that are "craptastic", you will definitely want to check this out, and if you can catch a live show as well, it's worth it.

Slow

Since I published the “public decency” post a few days ago, I’ve noticed that a number of other blogs, and the Daily Show, have picked up on the discussion of public civility. Coincidentally, I was watching a collection of old short films from approximately the 1930s to the 1950s the other day, and the last one in the set was about “emotional maturity”. While most 1950s informational films are hilarious (and this one was too), they made a valid point in the film about slowing down, stopping, and thinking before responding to an emotion.

Like all other human beings, I have my emotional ups and downs, and try to control them. Certainly in social settings, we are taught to control ourselves. It goes back to that basic idea of treating others as you would want them to treat you—no one likes someone who goes ballistic or really lays it on thick with the melodrama. But there are other cases where hiding your emotions can be a problem. For instance, when you’re upset about something and afraid to talk to your parent or spouse or close friend because you fear their reaction, it’s apt to break down the relationship. And let’s face it—emotions can hit you like a tsunami, especially when hormones are involved. Trying to fight them can be like trying to bail the water out of the ocean with a coffee cup; it’s better to go with the flow. But the question remains: where does one draw the line between having discipline in controlling their emotions and outright repression?

It’s a difficult question, but it seems to have something to do with awareness. First, awareness of your surroundings. The self-centered only think of their own wants and needs, and don’t consider anyone else’s. If you are interacting with someone, you will filter your communications with them in proportion to your experience with them. For instance—my father is a very conservative Republican, and I am not. I have very strong opinions about the Republicans these days. However, when I am talking to my father, I will be careful not to bring up political topics, or to belittle him for his point of view if they do come up, even if I think it’s absurd. It’s a matter of polite respect. There’s no point in arguing because I won’t change his mind—and he won’t change mine.

The second thing, interestingly enough, has to do with speed. No, not amphetamines, I mean the actual speed of your thoughts and your environment. In the Northeastern United States, we live a very fast-paced life. Because we are rushing from one thing to the next, something is apt to get lost along the way. As a consequence, we may act before we think. In this way, speed is connected to awareness.

I just read an interesting blog post about the relationship between belief and understanding. A study done by Daniel Gilbert and his colleagues in 1993 suggests, as Spinoza did in his philosophy, that in order to understand something, we must believe it. Even if our critical faculties are engaged later, and then we reject it, we initially assume belief. What I found interesting was the assertion “without time for reflection, people simply believed what they read.” Critical thinking does not happen when everything is moving fast.

So—the idea of slowing down, stopping, and thinking before reacting as a disciplined response is a good thing. Certainly we have flashes of intuition, and there are times when we’re forced to think on our feet. Instinctive reactions when there is danger are necessary to survival. But in most social interaction and our day-to-day routines, there is no need to rush our responses. In deep meditation, a state of very intense awareness, time slows down considerably.

This applies to the discipline/repression conundrum, because our emotions are usually the target of our repressions. We have a strong and immediate emotional response to something, and often we forgo critical thinking at those moments. We may be sorry for it later, especially if we hurt someone in the process.

Many gurus and masters have asserted that discipline leads to freedom, in spite of its apparent limitations. Discipline does not have to mean repression. If I get angry at a colleague at work, I can’t tell them off, as much as I would like to in my immediate emotional response. I have to remain polite, or avoid action. Later on, I can write about it (privately), or maybe vent about it to a friend. Frequently I satirize such conflicts—if I don’t take it too seriously, then it doesn’t have to be too serious. But in such a case I don’t repress my feelings; I express them through more productive channels. I would also submit that doing this allows you to think critically about your anger, and come up with the most reasonable response.

The Rumpus just ran an article suggesting that depression may actually help writers. It is now suggested that depressed individuals “dwell on a complex problem, breaking it down into smaller components, which are considered one at a time.” A special depression receptor enhances focus, allowing “depressive rumination to continue uninterrupted with minimal neuronal damage.” (taken from Maud Newton’s blog). In short, they slow things down and look at them with awareness, and writing is often a method suggested for doing this. Neurologically it would make sense that instinctual reactions are generated more quickly than ones that require more thought. Depression often comes from feeling overwhelmed and out of control. It’s not a coincidence that it can be greatly improved by taking time out to slow down and think.

One last thought--Given all of the hysteria in our country these days over the healthcare debate, it wouldn’t hurt for people to slow down and pay attention.

If you got this far, congratulations. It shows that you slowed down enough to read this whole thing instead of giving up after the first two sentences.

This Week's Amusement

It’s been a rather interesting and chaotic month, that I’ve been surviving by having a sense of the absurd, and maintaining my sense of humor. Here are a few things I saw this week that cracked me up:



Ted Wilson Reviews the World

(This may become my new favorite column in the Rumpus)

The Best Headline Ever

23 More Tasteless Street and Store Signs (Courtesy of I-A-B)

(Sign #14 is my favorite. I want to hang it in the staff parking lot where students always park)

The 5 Most Ridiculous Sex Self Help Books (Courtesy of Cracked.com)


The Snuggie Sutra

Yes, this is what it sounds like.

Hmm, these links have taken a bit of an erotic turn. Clean up those dirty thoughts and check out this cut cat picture. It’s exactly what my cats will do to me one day. Apologies for not embedding the image, but it's too big and I can't edit the pixels:

Stop Faking That Heart Attack...

Public Decency

I don’t pay a lot of attention to the news, particularly when it comes to celebrities. If you asked me to tell you anything about an actor or pop-music performer who has become famous in the last 10 years, you can forget it. I am doomed to fail at winning future games of Trivial Pursuit.

Nonetheless, when I open my e-mail, or log onto MySpace, I am besieged by images and names. If they are repetitive enough, I sort of remember them. If the headline seems really bizarre, I might actually read the article, if for no other reason than to see what kind of “not news” it is.

Anyone who reads this blog regularly knows that I am fond of finding patterns in events. The patterns may be meaningless, but sometimes they give you an idea about what we pretentiously call “cultural hermeneutics”. (Go ahead—use that term in a sentence today. I dare you.) It’s a fancy term for interpreting culture through its images and messages, particularly in the media.

Today’s pattern might be called, “Public figures behaving badly in public, and/or committing criminal acts.” I don’t mean paparazzi finding someone passed out drunk, or at an orgy, or whatever. I mean in public forums, at public events—places where a certain respectful behavior is expected. Concurrently, these are people who might serve as role models for younger generations, or at least have an influence over some segment of the population. I can divide these into 3 categories:

Sports figures: I don’t know if things have changed, but I’d always learned that the reason one joined a sports team was to learn “teamwork” and “sportsman-like” behavior. This meant winning and losing gracefully, having the discipline to practice for long hours, and behaving in a mature and exemplary manner.

There have always been exceptions to this—the Paul O’Neills, the John MacEnroes—though one could say that they were so dedicated to perfection that their outbursts were more a fit of self-criticism. Then there was O.J. Simpson, who gave us the valuable lesson that a sports hero could horribly murder two people and get away with it. At least society at large had the decency to express their disapproval, and it basically ruined him.

But then consider Michael Vick—after the horrible crime he committed, he still gets signed to an NFL team and has his supporters. When the Olympics were happening, there was a rash of racist behavior, decidedly unsportsmanlike comments between competitors, and questions about performance-enhancing drug use and other means of sidestepping the rules to win. Most recently, Serena Williams had an inexcusable outburst at the U.S. Open. What used to be isolated incidents of unsportsmanlike behavior are now more frequent and more intense.

Pop Singers/”Musicians”/Rappers: I’m showing my prejudice and age here, as I tend to regard most corporate-sponsored “music” as “not music”. Someone recently commented to me that there’s been no real innovation in popular music for about 20 years. One might argue about the time frame, but certainly there’s not much that’s “Top 40” that I would give any credence to as “music” since the start of the 21st century at least.

I understand that “rappers”, much like punks before them, are supposed to have a bad-boy or bad-girl attitude and lifestyle—it somehow goes with the image. Though I have to say it’s really hard to take the whole attitude seriously when you know the person is raking in several million dollars a year. Yeah, I know some will protest the idea of “selling out”, but really—when you’ve got money and status you get away with a lot that the inner-city urbanites you identify with would not get away with (see: OJ Simpson above).

I had always thought that record companies hired special “assistants” to handle their “artist’s” public image. Either the economy has floundered to the point that they can no longer afford this, or the assistants aren’t doing their jobs so well these days. To be fair, they may have bigger idiots to wrangle with. Take Kayne West, for instance. Kayne is one of those celebrities whose name I see flashing on MySpace once in awhile, or in some Yahoo news headline. I don’t know squat about his music or biography, and I don’t care. He appears to be doing rap, and he’s definitely pop, so that puts him off my list of artists to check out immediately. Yes, that sounds old-fogeyish, but so be it.

Yesterday’s outburst by Kayne West at the MTV Music (ha!) Awards basically involved two “musicians” I would rather undergo a root canal than have to listen to (I don’t like country-pop either). But forget about that—this is a major awards ceremony. Regardless of how bad-ass you are or think you are, there is a certain expected respectful behavior towards those nominated for and receiving awards. Mr. West apparently thinks he’s special enough to jump onstage and give his opinion of the selection. Of course, probably no one cares about his opinion on anything, but he apparently has never been taught basic civility and manners. And I mean REALLY basic—maybe we could rule out cannibalism. And what’s interesting is that this is not the first time he’s done it. Each time, he blames alcohol for his outburst. Hmm, let’s see, if you behave like a total idiot every time you drink before a public event—wouldn’t you NOT drink before a public event? No, sorry, that’s too logical and requires some self-restraint. Forgive me. But I have to admit, it caught my attention because it’s flagrant sense of ego and entitlement. “I’m so important, I don’t have to respect you.”

TV “Journalists”: Again, I use journalism in quotes, because very little of it seems to happen these days. Most “news” shows are actually highly partisan, and have more interest in creating drama and spreading party propaganda than discussing actual facts. Yes, I’m talking to you Fox News. Sean Hannity. Glenn Beck. To be fair, there are other news shows that can show the opposite bias, and that’s just as wrong. But Fox News has taken things to a new height of exploitation, of trying to manipulate conservative Republicans, many of whom are seniors and veterans, into believing the lies that they are spreading. People who always believed that the news “must be true” because journalists obviously do fact-checking. Well, maybe they did at one time. But I am startled, disturbed, and fascinated as I observe that in all of the debates about legislation started by Barack Obama, there has been very few facts actually introduced into the debate. Painting Barack Obama as a “Hitler” or “Nazi” or “Fascist” is a very scary projection of their own racist and exclusivist attitude. And what happened to “You don’t question the President in a time of war”, and “If you don’t agree with the President—this is America, love it or leave it”? And don’t get me started on Representative Joe Wilson.

Seeing all of these things, the bottom line for me is this: people have become so narcissistic and self-centered that mature displays of decorum and decency are increasingly being thrown out the window. I’m not in favor of repression, but there is a difference between repressing your feelings and behaving like a mature adult. I hate to say it, but being a public figure demands that you behave in public. Anyone with a sense of responsibility towards and respect for their fellow human beings would curb their behavior in public. That doesn’t mean you can’t protest or respectfully state your views in a public forum. And you can think what you like privately, do what you want in your own home—but when you’re onstage, on the field, at a public ceremony, or on television—you need to show that you have enough class to be there. Yes, I know, with YouTube everyone is a celebrity these days. But not everyone is raking in millions with lots of media exposure. That gives one a level of cultural power that should be used wisely. Sadly, it isn’t, and the message about society that comes out of it is sad, too.

Curb Your Enthusiasm

No, this is not about the television show of the same name (though I've heard it's an awesome show). This is literally about the subject of this post--curbing your enthusiasm.

As a child, I was very enthusiastic about lots of things. My birthday, Halloween, Christmas, going "down the shore" (hey, I'm from New Jersey)--and as I got older, dates with men I had a crush on, and when I got engaged, I was enthusiastic about getting married. I'd been waiting for that last one my whole life.

Some experiences were very pleasant, don't get me wrong. But overall--none of them lived up to the level of anticipation I had beforehand. The event in question was never quite as glowing as I'd imagined, and everything seemed to end very quickly. My wedding--that "once in a lifetime big day" was a catastrophe. The guests had a great time, and aesthetically it was fine--but I had so much anxiety I didn't enjoy it at all. I realized that there was a marriage after this wedding, and I didn't want to be part of it. I had more enthusiasm about the divorce.

I've said before that life is out of our control. Some people have taken issue with that, but I think they misunderstand me. Amma once said during one of her retreats, "Do you want to make God laugh? Tell him your plans." This doesn't mean that we should never plan anything--in order to produce works or goods of any kind requires some planning and effort. But there is a need to be flexible; fixating on the outcome too much will only lead to disappointment. Anything can happen at any time, and if you're too rigidly tied to your agenda, you'll break rather than bend when things get stormy.

I've discussed my May visit to Liverpool to see John Foxx. I think those events are what I look forward to the most these days. I love traveling to the UK when I can afford it. As you know from my posting on that event, there were technical difficulties, and there was concern the show wouldn't go on at all. Afterwards, when Foxx, Karborn, and Steve Malins stood around discussing what happened versus what they expected, Steve suddenly asked me, "What do you think Brigid? Did this show meet your expectations?" My reply was, "I never come with expectations. Whatever happens, happens. And everything looked just fine to me."

While I'm not sure they were convinced by my answer (they may have thought I was being polite), it was the God's-honest truth. Even when I am fired up for something, I make a sincere effort not to think about it at all beforehand. Some people tell me I'm being too negative, but I'm really not--I'm not assuming anything "bad" will happen, I just feel that I'll be happier if I live in the present and let the event unfold however it's going to unfold. Once I've booked my tickets and accommodations, I don't think about it again until a day or two before when I have to pack and get everything in order. When the event actually occurs, I just show up and see who I run into, and how well things go. You may say that the enthusiasm is part of the fun, but I disagree. What goes up must come down. If you're enthusiastic, you're also nervous and anxious, like someone who's consumed 12 cups of strong coffee. And when you finally arrive at the point of the event, or seeing the person you want to see, you either tend to behave like an idiot because you're nervous, or you're too emotionally exhausted to properly enjoy the event. It's like doing drugs--you get really up for awhile, and then comes the miserable crash. I'll pass on that experience.

Holidays are a little different. Those are more of a journey than a destination. Christmas has a whole "season" before it. I think I enjoy that more than the holiday itself. But we're so goal-oriented that we tend to focus on the day itself rather than all the festivities prior to the actual day. By the time you get to the actual day, you're probably sick of the holiday already. But if you view it as a natural culmination of the season, without putting too much importance on that day, it seems to be more enjoyable. At least that's what I've found over the years.

I think on the whole, I've learned this: goals are bad. Not general goals, like wanting to get a university degree, or wanting to engage in any particular occupation. But if you're always focused on a "goal", you are forever disappointed. Even if you achieve your goal, there is a sense of "that's it?" afterwards. All of our goals are necessarily temporal. Making a lot of money, going on a trip, having a nice house--all of these are good things, but they're not going to mean squat in 10,000 years. Think about that. We obviously need to move in some direction, because we are living life, but we shouldn't live FOR temporal things. Even careers--how many people absolutely live for their jobs for years and years, only to be lost when their career becomes obsolete?

There's no need to see all this as negative, though. Human beings like to have a "purpose", so it's good to work towards something. Just pay attention along the way, and be prepared for anything. There are lots of opportunities that you may miss if you're too narrowly focused. A "sure thing" may disappoint you, and what appears to be a loss or failure may actually be a blessing. We end up in the right place regardless of how we got there.

Actually--now that I think about it--I've achieved all the goals I had as a child. All the things I wanted to be when I grew up at one time or another, I've become, with the exception of being a Mom. Pretty cool. And I didn't even plan it that way.

Blog Serendipity

The blogosphere is an interesting place. Pretty much anyone with basic word processing skills can have a blog, and there are thousands and thousands of them. The fact that I have this one and that people around the world actually read it is pretty amazing, when I think about it.

It’s interesting how one discovers new blogs and bloggers. Some sites regularly post bizarre stories or funny pictures and videos from other sites—like I-Am-Bored.com,and Nothing to Do With Arbroath. I’d added both of these blogs to my RSS feed reader a long time ago. But through those blogs I’ve discovered others. It’s like browsing online—I came to look at one thing, and discovered another site. When I find myself bookmarking enough articles from a particular site, I end up adding that one to my feed reader as well. I don’t tend to read too many “serious” blogs, though I do regularly scan some blogs relating to my job. News sites are a joke—they are about 95% “not news” (i.e., filler and hype), and I can go to Fark.com for that, with smartass taglines as a bonus.

I’ve also discovered a burgeoning online literary community. New literature sites are popping up every day that feature stories, poems, book reviews, and commentary. One of my favorites is The Rumpus, and via the Rumpus I discovered another great site, HTMLGiant. There are writers and bloggers within each of these sites, and I find myself looking forward to their new postings. Here are some of the writers I’ve discovered via blog serendipity:

Jimmy Chen (HTMLGiant) – There is a collection of Jimmy’s writings at “The Embassy of Misguided Zen.” The first posting I ever read of Jimmy’s was “I Like Donald Rumsfeld A Lot”. I was sold after reading the immortal line that I really want to use in conversation some day: “I can’t decide whether this is Kant or autism.” He has another post where he expresses his annoyance at quotes by writers taken as the "last word" on writing, and has some quotes of his own. I love it.

Kaui Hemmings (Rumpus.net) – Kaui writes “The Bad Mommy Blog” for the Rumpus. This is one of my favorite posts. She is also a published author, with 2 books (Descendants and House of Thieves), and another blog called “How to Party With an Infant”. Her website is here.
I have never been a parent, but I find her bad-ass approach to parenting her daughter to be totally refreshing. I’m not big on reading author interviews, but I will always read one written by Kaui; they are never dull.

Will Durst (Rumpus.net) – Will regularly posts to the Rumpus blog, listed as a “sworn enemy to all tyrants”, and writes mostly political commentary. This is satire at its finest, and metaphor that no amateur writer should try to use at home. Check out his latest post on Labor Day here.

Hbee (WFMU’s Beware of the Blog) – WFMU, Jersey City’s freeform radio station (one of the few left), has an amazing blog with a variety of obscure videos, mp3s, and pop culture and subculture gems. I recommend all of it, but my favorite post-ers to the blog are probably Kliph Nesteroff, Swan Fungus, and a newer blogger known as Hbee. His posts are often short and to the point (unlike mine), and he’s got a razor-sharp wit. I’m never disappointed.

Finally—while not falling into the categories above, I had to share a new blog I discovered. The campiness of right-wing Christian culture leaves me speechless:

Stuff Christians Like

I hope you enjoy these writers as much as I do. Now, back to my own writing. Happy Mercury Retrograde, everyone!

"Senex" Featured in "Writing Raw"

My first novelette has been published online today, as the featured novelette on Writing Raw. While it’s not a paying market and mainly a space for new writers, I’m still pleased with it—it’s exposure, and it’s a publishing credit nonetheless. I’m glad to know that such spaces exist.

The novelette is “Senex”, and if you decide to wade through it (it’s about 10,000 words), I should probably give you some background first. I haven’t broadly advertised this publishing credit to my colleagues, because parts of this story are definitely erotic, maybe borderline pornographic. That has also made it harder to market—the length factor plus the sex factor rules it out for many literary publications. But it’s all necessary to the story, as far as I’m concerned.

The story isn’t erotic for the sake of being erotic. “Senex” is the Latin word for old man, and is actually a reference to the Jungian Senex archetype. For anyone who knows anything about the archetypes—the senex in the story is more of a “senex amans”, an old man who is married to a much younger woman, and hence behaves possessively. (Sometimes the senex amans is cuckolded as well, but that’s not relevant here).

The story is part of a short story collection I’m finishing up, that doesn’t have a title yet. The theme is the archetypes, and what is known as “archetype possession”. These are not pure illustrations of the Jungian types—they are stories about relationships that start out normally enough and become terrifying, or lead to psychological breakdown. Sometimes the relationship is husband/wife, sometimes father/son, sometimes father/daughter—or sister/brother. While not pure illustrations, knowing the Jungian type referred to in the title does help in understanding the story. The relationships between characters reveal deep-seated emotional troubles, troubles that didn’t manifest themselves before a particular event occurs.

I think I’ve said enough about it—if you would like to see the new story in Writing Raw, you can read it here:

Senex

Another story in this series, “Anima”, will be published by Dark Gothic Resurrected magazine in April 2010 (only 2 issues a year, and October 2009 is already filled). I would like to see most, if not all, stories in the series published, and later put them forward to a publisher as a collection. 2 more of them are currently being marketed, and hopefully I will have the good news that they are published soon as well. Between that and my December novel-finishing-agent-querying deadline, I should be giving up on sleep between now and 2010. Wish me luck.

Celebrity Death

There is an old maxim that one should never speak ill of the dead.

Recently, there have been a number of "celebrity" deaths. The most recent has been Senator Edward "Ted" Kennedy, who was involved in Congressional politics for over 40 years, most of them as a senator.

I grew up in a Republican household. Actually, I'm going to amend that statement--I have a father who is a very vocal Republican. My mother is not a Republican, and the dinner-table arguing can get heated in that arena. Nonetheless, I grew up with the image of Ted Kennedy as a drunk, a murderer, and a womanizer. It wasn't until I was able to read history for myself that I realized that Kennedy did contribute quite a bit to this country. Certainly you can't beat his work ethic in the later years of his life--that man showed up for Congress, debated, and voted, regardless of how sick he was physically. Yet it's hard to shake the image of the "immune Kennedys"--not just the Chappaquiddick incident, but the William Kennedy Smith rape case in the 1980s (remember that)?

But the point here is not to speak ill of Kennedy. It is traditional, respectful, to talk about what one has accomplished in death, not their shortcomings. The only time someone really brings up one's shortcomings in death is when the person is a convicted serial killer or rapist. I'm going to be Captain Obvious here for a moment and note that the media likes to hype things. (You don't say???...) So, perhaps I shouldn't wonder at the fact that the majority of non-serial killer celebrities who die suddenly become saints in death. Doesn't matter what they've done--how many arrests they've had, how many crimes they've been suspected of committing, they are suddenly "Jesus" now that they are dead and aren't around to be picked apart anymore. I can't help but think of the ancient idea of sacrifice, particularly in the Aztec culture--you rip a person's living heart out, and venerate them in death like a deity. Is this the modern version of that sacrifice? Private lives are destroyed, scrutinized, torn to pieces--the difference seems to be that we don't really get anything out of their sacrifice. What deity gets appeased by all of this? The Media?

The recent death of Michael Jackson brought this home as well. I've avoided talking about Jackson's death, because I don't consider myself a fan, and Lord knows there are enough people to get into discussions about it without my contribution. I did like his music back in the late Seventies and early Eighties. I grew up seeing the Jackson Five on television, and remember "Off the Wall" and "Thriller" as being decent albums. But I found myself utterly repelled by Jackson and anything he did after that.

I have friends who argue with me that it was Jackson's life, we don't really know if he was happy or not, and if he wanted to do the things to himself that he did--well, that was his business. I agree with all of that. But what freaked me out about Jackson is that he was like watching a real-life horror movie. Ever see the movie Poltergeist? The scene where Martin Casella goes into the bathroom to wash his face, and then rips it off in great chunks? That's what watching Michael Jackson was like for me. Only this wasn't a horror movie, this was real life. If you add his perpetual "childlike" behavior (which may or may not have included molestation of children--officially it didn't)--I found I was watching something more disturbing than most horror story plots I'd read. For me, everything he did after Thriller was as much of a sham as his physical appearance. And I couldn't watch. I still can't look at pictures of Michael Jackson post-1985. It's like he was replaced by some horrible monster. People have gone over his psychology so many times, it's nauseating to repeat. No doubt his upbringing had something to do with behavior. That doesn't make it any easier to watch. I've always thought the "King of Pop" title was a sham after the early Eighties--he didn't dominate anything in terms of record sales after that (at least not until he died and became Saint Michael). But now that I think about the "sacrifice" of celebrities, it seems entirely appropriate. After all, it's the King who is cut down and sacrificed, traditionally. His mutation over the years almost becomes a metaphor for what the music business, and other big Hollywood-esque businesses, do to these people.

In any case, I did my best to avoid all of the hype surrounding his death--skipping over Facebook updates, setting up my mail to bypass the "news" section where his face was always plastered. However, courtesy of I-Am-Bored.com, there was one take that I couldn't resist watching--the old "Hitler's downfall" meme mashed up with the death of Michael Jackson. It is truly funny, and that is where I will leave you today, never to speak of this again: