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Laurie Anderson and Lou Reed

Laurie Anderson and Lou Reed

In Santa Fe, Michael told me that at some point Lou Reed and Laurie Anderson had gotten married. Huh? Whew. Can anyone confirm? I guess they’ve been an item for some time – I don’t know how I could have missed that. Two of my favorite talents, but so very different.

I’ve been listening to a lot of both of them in the last few days. I’ve really been enjoying the music from Anderson’s “Strange Angels.” Then I discovered her series of public service announcements. Heh-heh. I’m going to post one a week.

Until then, here’s some of my faves.

I think my favorite is “The Dream Before” – about fairy tales (Hansel and Gretel here), Bellamy’s angel of history, and “progress”:

And I adore “Strange Angels”

I couldn’t find “Closed Circuits” – which I also love, but no blog post on this – at VirusHead – would be complete without…. “Language is a Virus from Outer Space.” (grinning)

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4FeyGTmw0I0[/youtube]

And “Smoke Rings” – que es mas macho?

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NnRjTKVWzw8[/youtube]

And of course – “O Superman.” Two versions – I like the delivery of the first (close up) one better, but it looks like it was part of some kind of documentary. Oh hey – does anybody know what the name of this was or where I might get it? The second video is the full version -a very powerful performance.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f8LquNy3fd8[/youtube]

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hhm0NHhCBg[/youtube]

I’m lingering on Lou Reed, too, especially the tracks on “New York.” I’ve always thought he had a really sexy voice. When we saw him in Paris, I wore black boots and a mini-skirt (and looked at an Parisian audience swearing tee shirts and jeans – so disappointing).

Here’s an interesting video that was made of “Satellite of Love.”

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZTqziV6kK0M[/youtube]

Lou Reed and John Cale singing “Nobody but You” (about Warhol) on the Letterman show.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFP9kBIXxfY[/youtube]

And a Reed classic – “Sweet Jane”

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1edgKKwKf-0[/youtube]

I couldn’t find a video of “Sick of You” anywhere. It has always been my very favorite Lou Reed song. It’s a bit dated now in terms of the references, but I still enjoy it just as much as I always did. Note the Rudy Giuliani comment – hmmm. The bit on the President’s head works a little differently now than it did for Reagan.

I know this song stone cold – I’d love to perform it sometime, but it’s not the kind of song that is likely to show up on karaoke, and I doubt I could put together a back-up band anymore (lol) – so I sing it on the deck, iPod to my ears. My neighbors must really wonder about me. Anyway, here are the lyrics (emphasis added).

“Sick Of You,” Lou Reed

I was up in the morning with the TV blarin’
Brushed my teeth sittin’ watchin’ the news
All the beaches were closed
The ocean was a Red Sea
But there was no one there to part in two
There was no fresh salad
‘Cuz there’s hypos in the cabbage
Staten Island disappeared at noon
And they say the midwest is in great distress
And NASA blew up the moon

The ozone layer has no ozone anymore
And you’re gonna leave me for the guy next door?
I’m Sick of You, I’m Sick of You

They arrested the Mayor for an illegal favor
Sold the Empire State to Japan
And Oliver North married William Secord
And gave birth to a little Tehran
And the Ayatollah bought a nuclear warship
If he dies he wants to go out in style
And there’s nothing to eat
That don’t carry the stink
Of some human waste dumped in the Nile

Well, one thing is certainly true
no. one. here. knows. what. to. do.
And I’m Sick of You, I’m Sick of You

The radio said there were 400 dead
In some small town in Arkansas
Some whacked-out trucker
Drove into a nuclear reactor
And killed everybody he saw
Now he’s on Morton Downey
And he’s glowing and shining
Doctors say this is a medical advance
They say the bad makes the good
And there’s something to be learned
In every human experience

Well I know one thing that really is true
This here’s a zoo and the keeper ain’t you
And I’m sick of it, I’m Sick of You

They ordained the Trumps
And then he got the mumps
And died being treated at Mt. Sinai
And my best friend Bill died from a poison pill
Some wired doctor prescribed for stress
My arms and legs are shrunk
The food all has lumps
They discovered some animal no one’s ever seen
It was an inside trader eating a rubber tire
After running over Rudy Giuliani

They say the President’s dead
No one can find his head
It’s been missing now for weeks
But no one noticed it
He had seemed so fit
I’m Sick of it!!!

I’m Sick of You
I’m so Sick of You!
bye, bye, bye
bye, bye, bye

Where are we going?

Where are we going?

I have to share something, since it not only turned into a running gag throughout the night but also prompted an increasingly rare brainstorming session for me today.

We were visiting last night with our friends Kim and Stephen before going off to what turned out to be a late dinner (Atlanta Fish Market, I had sushi and a huge bowl of steamers). Ben was going to spend the night there (our children have been friends for almost their whole lives). They have a big back deck, and we sat out there, and talked, and sipped two of their killer-delish Cape Codders (with cranberry-raspberry juice and mandarin orange vodka – mmm).

I will not be able to convey exactly why this became so very funny. It stands by itself, but for me much of the hilarity – and charm – flowed from the manner of Kim’s delivery. I will always see her face and hear her voice in my mind’s eye when I think of this.

She said that she had seen the funniest bumper sticker ever.

She leaned forward and, with eyes wide, she said:

“Where are we going?”

(pause… beat, beat)

“And why are we in this handbasket?

Laughter gently roiled up, built, cascaded. Kim’s face looked like it was going to implode. Then both of us burst into uncontrollable, almost hysterical laughter. It may have started out as soft giggling, but it went right into the entire-body-flailing and very rare kind of laughter that feels like a catharsis of the soul.

From then on, it only took “where are we going” for us to start giggling again. John and I continued it later, too.

Thank you Kim! I’ve put that one away as a nugget of gold for when I need a good laugh.

(I’ve made some graphics. Right-click and save, no hotlinking please.)

Sunshine basketNone of us knew the etymology of the phrase “hell in a handbasket,” and I couldn’t stop speculating about it. It’s really a very odd idiomatic phrase. It rolls with the alliterative ease that its content suggests, so it’s one of those examples of textured language that I always love.

My own brainstorming came up with this:

Since it generalizes from the specific onto a widespread and or/universal diagnosis, it works as as shorthand/catch-all diagnosis. It is a very curmudgeonly phrase, associated more with older, conservative people than with the young. To me, it signals a lack of flexibility with respect to cultural change. The “hell” part is self-explanatory.

Basket There is a sense of ease in the “being carried” – not unlike the “slippery slope” metaphor – and the pace seems fast. The “going” has already been in progress for a while, and the speed is increasing. We’re already past the point where stopping would be possible.

It is never a command (“you go to hell in a handbasket”), but always a description of perceived conditions (“this country is going to hell in a handbasket”). USA Handbasket

Although it is a reactive statement, it also functions as an implicit critique of passivity with regard to the condition being criticized.

There is a cognitive dissonance for me in the visual image of a handbasket.

A handbasket – a small basket with a handle – is something that is typically used for gathering flowers, or berries, or garden veggies, or Easter eggs. I imagine a very carefree, happy little girl, carrying something through the woods – like Little Red Riding Hood? Little Red Riding Basket

One of the things that made the bumper sticker amusing was the idea of a wide-eyed someone asking the “carrier” where they were going. The context of the bumper sticker suggested the automobile as the conveyor, so it was a surprise to have it switched out for the handbasket. Then there was also the implication of children asking “where are we going?,” like “are we there yet?”. Multiple surprises.

Moving on. What would be of an appropriate size to be conveyed to hell in a handbasket?

A baby, like baby Moses being carried down the Nile? (Do you remember that weird song “There’s something in the bag – Mommy, Mommy?”?) Some human parts? The heart, the head, the hands?

Or, looking at the other end of the scale problem, perhaps the being doing the carrying is… very large?

Another interesting consequence of the passive construction is that agency is completely unspecified. Who is carrying the handbasket? That’s an interesting question. I have no answer.

So, what – something or someone – a huge demon, perhaps – is skipping through the woods, conveying “this world” or “this country” to hell – in a handbasket? Athena carries One of the gods – or goddesses? The more you think about it, the stranger it is. The scale is all off (at least for Western thought, it is).

So then I went to search. There’s not really that much hard evidence on the etymology – but post if you’re aware of anything else of interest.

From Word-Detective

Clues to the origin of “going to hell in a handbasket,” meaning “deteriorating rapidly or utterly,” are, unfortunately, scarce as hens’ teeth. The eminent slang historian Eric Partridge, in his “Dictionary of Catchphrases,” dates the term to the early 1920’s. Christine Ammer, in her “Have A Nice Day — No Problem,” a dictionary of cliches, agrees that the phrase probably dates to the early 20th century, and notes that the alliteration of “hell” and “handbasket” probably contributed to the popularity of the saying. Ms. Ammer goes a bit further and ventures that, since handbaskets are “light and easily conveyed,” the term “means going to hell easily and rapidly.” That seems a bit of a stretch to me, but I do think the addition of “in a handbasket” (or “in a bucket,” as one variant puts it) does sound more dire and hopeless than simply “going to hell.”

From Yaelf

This phrase, meaning “to deteriorate rapidly”, originated in the U.S. in the early 20th century. A handbasket is just a basket with a handle. Something carried in a handbasket goes wherever it’s going without much resistance.

James L. Rader of Merriam-Webster Editorial Dept. writes: “The Dictionary of American Regional English […] records ‘to go to heaven in a handbasket’ much earlier than […] ‘hell,’ which is not attested before the 1950s. The earliest cite in our files is from 1949 […]. ‘In a handbasket’ seems to imply ease and and speed […]. Perhaps part of the success of these phrases must simply be ascribed to the force of alliteration. DARE has a much earlier citation for another alliterative collocation with ‘handbasket’ (1714), from Samuel Sewall’s diary: ‘A committee brought in something about Piscataqua. Govr said he would give his head in a Handbasket as soon as he would pass it.’ I suspect that ‘to go to hell in a handbasket’ has been around much longer than our records would seem to indicate.”

I would think that the metaphor would be more directional, more path-oriented. “Going to hell in a handbasket” implies that we are going the wrong way. It’s not under our own steam, as it were, but simply being carried along by…something…a larger agency or force. I guess that’s the danger in “going with the flow.”

So the timeline goes from “head in a handbasket” to “heaven in a handbasket” to “hell in a handbasket”… hmm.

I wonder if the history of the phrase had anything to do with beheading… I know that there was a basket to catch the head as it fell off from the stage of the guillotine. Before that, swords were used. Beheading is a quick way to the afterworld. No-one seems to have made this connection. I wonder.

Here’s another thought, the most literal: “Hand Basket” = a basket full of hands. The possibility certainly haunts the shadowy corridors of interpretation. “Handbasket” is an unusual word, somehow. Thieves’ hands, perhaps? I wonder how far back this expression really might go.

I’m not sure how the meaning of “deterioration” would have come into it, exactly, unless someone actually was carrying around a head, or a basket of severed hands – in a hot climate. And who carries them? And how quickly? Hmmm.

What happens to the heads or hands? Would they have been burned, by any chance? City dump, fiery pit, anything like that?

Academic language

Academic language

I wrote my Ph.D. twice. I tried to write in academic language, but I never found my academic voice. Instead, I wrote in my own voice, and then translated it over. I tried to avoid becoming completely opaque, while maintaining the level of technically-precise terminology (or jargon) that seemed to be required.

So I was delighted to see (thanks to Medusa at Professional Mirror Ph.D) that there is a random academic sentence generator from Pootwattle the Virtual Academic. Smedley the Virtual Critic will review your sentence, free of charge.

Straight to you from the University of Chicago’s Writing Program Toybox, here is my randomly-generated sentence, and its review. Heh-heh.

Randomly generated Academic Sentence

Pootwattle the Virtual Academic(TM) says:

The discourse of the unspoken (re)embodies the legitimation of civil society.

Smedley Smedley the Virtual Critic(TM) responds:

Pootwattle’s hastily published paper on the relationship between the discourse of the unspoken and the legitimation of civil society is exceptionally resistant to summary, as befits its project.

Exceptionally resistant to summary. Ha-ha- hah! Perfect! They had fun putting that together.

In my dissertation, it rarely got that bad. However, here are a few real sentences that drifted into that kind of territory:

In the thriller genre’s move from nuclear fears to viral fears, the virus functions as a figure that generates effects of horror and terror – and allows for the mobilization of contemporary discourses to simulate the real – but it also allows for the reinscription of imperialist methods of control.

The confluence of biological and technological viral language at the end of the twentieth century interacts with articulations of health and sickness, literal or metaphorical, already active in other discourses. The viral, in turn, amplifies the concept of the “virus” from the biological into the imaginary realm, drawing on beliefs and fears from the ancient to the ultra-contemporary, assimilating fragments of the rejected, and reinfusing mutated versions of itself into new communication networks.

One strand invests the virus with all our fears and the dynamics of otherness and is a function of paranoia and control, the other figures the virus as a protean bricoleur, a postmodern figure that reflects different standpoints about inherent ambiguities, contradictions, and reversals and picks up different aspects of these to create new assemblages.

There was a kind of strange rhythm – mess, bits, bits, twisted, bits, bits, new stuff. Lots of passive verbs.

I could probably rewrite the whole thing now and it would be great book. I’m probably at the point where I could stand to read it again.

It’s difficult to remember the mind-space I inhabited while writing all this. I really was a “VirusHead.”

Once it became clear that I wouldn’t be allowed to become a comparative mythologist as I had planned, maybe I should have stayed at my second university and written on “Friendship in Aquinas.” Or even “Kierkegaardian Mutations.”

Or maybe I should just have gone to law school.

All this debt, and no job. Sigh.

We saw Spiderman 3

We saw Spiderman 3

Spiderman 3We promised Ben we’d go see Spiderman 3. Personally, I was pushing for the latest Shrek movie, especially after getting a tirade about violence and horribleness from another mom whose slightly younger kid wanted to leave Spiderman after about 15 minutes. Of course, they saw the IMAX version, and that’s probably a bit more intense.

Granted, there is probably a bit too much marketing toward the kids for the level of of the movie, but hey, there’s a megaton of money being made on those figures. Every mom and dad in America knows that.

Action figures are better than cigarettes, anyway.

Ben is still collecting his Star Wars stuff, and Power Rangers, and Transformers, and Fantastic Four, and even Batman. He’s already got a fair number of variations of the basic Spiderman figure. He loves them, carries a couple everywhere, has very complex worlds and plots involving them. Basically, I think they are dolls for boys, but I have to say that these articulated figures sure worked to retire anything like a Ken or GI Joe. For that I am grateful. I won’t tell you what I did to the few Barbie dolls I ever had…

Anyway, the movie was a rollicking good time had by all. Any movie with this heavy dose of vaguely uncanny doppelganger fun is good with me. Two photographer nerd superguys with the same basic taste in women – a blonde is a redhead, who is a blonde – mirrored kisses and guys who just don’t get it. Bits of temptation and hell, bits of redemption and caring – very intercontagious and structural. Instead of making truly complex characters, they separated out the good and bad and mixed them up a bit in color-coded quick time.

A little comic relief here and there, a couple of snappy insulting lines (nothing as good as “this is so not Spandex). All the women were great, although none of them got to be superheros. I loved the scenes between Peter Parker and his aunt May (Rosemary Harris) in particular. I don’t know if they pulled a Natalie Wood on this one or not, but if she was doing her own singing Kirsten Dunst has a very pleasant voice.

Sandman showed up, although he seemed a bit more like a sandstorm. I thought he was a sympathetic figure, actually. Nobody ever gives his daughter and ex a darned thing (big of you to “forgive him” though).

Let’s get Swamp Thing and Concrete into the action – what, they don’t count for anything? They’d rock.

Note for Spiderman 4, Spiderman Continues, and Spiderman meets Scooby-Doo: Never spend a lot of camera time on crying guys with bulgy eyes, especially if they do funny things with their mouths too. Tobey Maguire should not be allowed to cry on camera – he does not do it well. A death scene was almost ruined for me when I had to stifle my laughter for a second. Stick with the Goblin guy, and Sandman, for the crying parts. They both have better faces for it.

I think Tobey (Spiderman/Peter Parker) got a bit ripped off in this movie. Everybody else had better lines. The interesting part for his role was when he was briefly “wrestling” with the internal evil displaced onto the black meteorcrud-crystal lube-symbiote-thing. I liked the dancing, and many of his expressions were actually more appealing (to me) but no matter how they muss his hair or add mascara, Billie Joe Armstrong he’s not.He was starting to remind me of that guy that played Frodo, Elijah Wood. Ok for a hobbit, not so much for a superhero. I liked most of the other characters more.

Tofer youngI had seen Topher Grace (Christopher John Grace, b.1978) several times before I recognized him at all, and that was only because of a fleeting expression on his face. My, the gawky boy (Eric Foreman) from “That 70’s Show” sure turned out well. I’m guessing that, except for the costume, it must have been fun for him to play Eddie Brock/Venom. Tofer as Eddie BrockI wouldn’t have thought he could have done it. You can’t tell from the available stills from the movie, but he had a serious yum factor going. Well, he did until he became Venom – the teeth and little snaky black bits of symbiotic goo were fantastically scary and wonderful. And so was the Spock/Austin Powers raised eyebrow action, although the makeup was just that tad too heavy.Eyebrow action

I’m picky, huh? Well, I actually enjoyed the film very much. Two movies in two days. We haven’t done that in a long time. I think the last movie we went to before that was Superman. Oh yeah, that reminds me. The flag moment was a bit gratuitous, wasn’t it? At least they didn’t go all Captain America on us for this one.

Final message: You always have the choice to do the right thing.

Actually, you don’t always have that choice, because sometimes you don’t have enough information.
Sometimes you don’t have a good way of making a decision.
Sometimes there is no right thing to do.
Sometimes you know the right thing to do, but it is not within your power.

But I know what they mean. It’s a little streamlined for clarity. And we need the reminder that we can make choices.

The choices you make create the character that you are, which affects the way you think, which affects the way you make decisions and judgments, and the way you start to habitually make the same kinds of choices, etc. etc. When you have a choice, do the very best you can to think it through, and feel it through, and consider everything you possibly can – and then do what you judge to be the best thing, the right thing, in that context. All of that wouldn’t do very well at the end of a movie…

Just remember, even if you think you’re doing the right thing, you might still be wrong, and life isn’t fair.

Joe Frank has pointed out rather persuasively that while the truth may be slippery and elusive, you are always the author of your own lie.

But that’s a whole ‘nuther kind of movie.

Ahh, yeah. Time to sleep. ‘Night.

In My Wee Blogosphere

In My Wee Blogosphere

I haven’t done this in a while, but here are some things that caught my eye today while I was updating my blogroll. Loosely grouped by topic, here ya go…