I think the chick on Torchwood is kinda hot, particularly (I’m not too ashamed to admit) when she wears one of those British police officer uniforms. The actress’s name is Eve Myles. And seeing as how this show is “adult” (and putting my general humanist concerns to the side), I’ve been waiting for her to take her top off, out of a kind of professional curiosity on my part. Come on, Russell T. Davies. If you’re so “adult,” why isn’t there much in the way of sex? I’m disappointed. This is about as “adult” as David O. Selznick paying for the line, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” Ooohhh! Mr. Cutting Edge!
Month / November 2006
#2: more drinks
One shot of Wild Turkey.
And then I tried out a combination of bourbon, sweet vermouth and Coke. I don’t recommend this. It’s a mix only slightly more repellent than the Hangman’s Blood. So now I’m on Bailey’s for a while. Bailey’s — that port in the storm when you don’t want to wimp out with a yuppie drink like a white wine spritzer, but you can’t handle straight shots.
I’m at a loss as to what to write about, but will happily take requests. Your thoughts?
#1: let the games begin
Hello and welcome to National Drunken Writing Night, where sentences are incoherent, thoughts are even more so, and bloggers have an excuse to sit around the house and drink. The sun is fading beyond the trees in the Park and I’m polishing off an Irish highball as my first drink. I suppose I could have opted for a tequila sunset, but that would have been too cruel a drink to start off with. And besides, there isn’t any tequila at the bar. In fact, much of my bar is composed of bottles leftover from last year.
A few things I should observe: I generally do not write when drinking. Bad enough that caffeine is a part of my writing habits and that I often go nuts with the coffee when working on a lengthy piece. But I cannot imagine much sense to come from drinking and writing — never understood the idealization. I’ve heard stories of an editor regularly insisting to his staff, “Write while drunk! Edit while sober!” Why? Is it not better to get everything as taut as possible in the first draft? To write as coherently as you can?
Granted, there is some value if the commandment were to suggest, “Keep it loose and dirty in the writing stage. Use your brain in the editing stage.” So perhaps this is what the editor was suggesting.
Incidentally, the combination of Jameson and ginger ale is not as bad as I expected, although it does seem incongruous to the Jameson. I think I’m going to man it up a bit and follow this with a straight shot of bourbon.
A Tuesday of Biblical Proportions
This is something to be saved for tonight’s National Drunk Writing Night, but this year, the propositions in California scare the hell out of me. It is not so much the language which is terrifying and also amusing, in much the same way that the Book of Revelations is. No, what scares me is that these propositions may, in fact, pass. I’ll remark on all this nonsense after a few drinks.
For now, I’ll just say that I saw Sedge Thompson in action at the Booksmith this morning and the man is good. While I appeared to be one of the youngest people there (why do live radio shows along these lines almost never attract people under 40?), it was interesting to see Thompson work live. Imagine if someone, through some miracle, managed to extract the stick permanently wedged up Garrison Keillor’s ass and you have some idea about what makes Thompson work. It’s safe to say that West Coast Live will never present anything close to irreverence, but as innocuous, wry and laidback shows goes, it ain’t bad.
Hold Steady, Folks
Inbox finally under 200 messages. I’m replying as fast as I can.
Universal Sues YouTube (Although It’s Not the Universal You Think)
The Smoking Gun: “where r da videos? youtube rox man, but what heppen to videos?”
Well, They’re Not As Bad As Windbag Novelists Fond of Gross Generalizations
A.S. Byatt: “Cyclists. I really hate them. I wish they would not be so self-righteous and realise they are a danger to pedestrians. I wish cyclists would not vindictively snap off wing mirrors on cars when they were trying to cross in front of the car at a danger to motorists and pedestrians.”
Another Richard Powers Interview
While the New York papers don’t seem to be having a lot of luck these days talking with Richard Powers before the National Book Awards, yet another Chicago media outlet nabs an interview with Powers: this time, it’s the Chicago Reader. It’s an interesting interview. Here, for example, is s Powers on the midwestern narrative:
I don’t think there’s a single midwestern narrative. I’ve tried different ways in several books to tap into some of those long rhythms that the midwest invites us to hear. But it’s a subtle place that opens up only gradually as you keep looking at it, and keep listening.
But I think there’s something else about the midwest. It’s the portion of the country that supports the coasts and makes the coasts possible, so it’s absolutely essential to how the American mind works in its role as a kind of primary producer for all the rest of this complex ecosystem. So that’s always intrigued me: America stripped bare. America without props and without distractions or disguises and protections.
ED209 — The Real Thing
There’s even a Robocop-like promotional video. I’m guessing the robots will declare war against the humans before the harsh Russian winter.
MTV Doesn’t Care About Black People (Black People Jumping Across Canyons, That Is)
CBS: “West apparently was so disappointed at not winning for Best Video that he crashed the stage Thursday in Copenhagen when the award was being presented to Justice and Simian for ‘We Are Your Friends.’ In a tirade riddled with expletives, West said he should have won the prize for his video ‘Touch The Sky,’ because it ‘cost a million dollars, Pamela Anderson was in it. I was jumping across canyons.'”
Adrienne Shelley Found Dead
I’m a Hal Hartley fan. So I was stunned to learn that Hartley staple Adrienne Shelley was found dead in her New York office. Nobody knows the cause of death, but Shelley leaves us a film called Waitress, which she wrote and directed.
Dick Wolf Has a Dark Streak
Melanie McFarland: “Watching doughy-jowled Chevy Chase greet Milena Govich’s Det. Nina Cassady with ‘Screw you, sugar tits!’ is enough of a horrifying reflection in itself. No guy wants to be thinly fictionalized by a gray-haired has-been comedian who used to get laughs as a land shark.”
Dave Itzkoff: Firm Champion of White Male Speculative Fiction Authors Everybody Else Has Heard Of
It’s bad enough that Sam Tanenhaus feels that Dave Itzkoff’s science fiction column is only worth an appearance once every solstice. (His last column appeared on September 24, six weeks ago.) But it seems that Itzkoff is more interested in covering obvious authors rather than exploring the eclectic terrain of speculative fiction in any substantive way. (See, by contrast, Ron Charles’ seamless integration of genre titles into the Washington Post‘s Book World, which offer a common entry point for both speculative fiction fan and mainstream reader alike.)
In this week’s New York Times Book Review, Dave Itzkoff, once in another display of Caucasian boosterism, serves up this overview of Neil Gaiman, apparently discovering The Sandman more than a decade after everybody else.
When your resident science fiction columnist is only just discovering Neil Gaiman (and we can be sure that Itzkoff’s failure to reference American Gods, the critical and commercial hit that established that Gaiman was not just a comic book writer), that’s a sure sign that you have a genre illiterate on the payroll.
Wait a Minute: Michiko Actually LIKES Fiction?
It’s quite possible that the folks at the New York Times were sitting on this obit for a while, waiting for Styron to kick the bucket. After all, Vincent Canby’s infamous Bob Hope obituary appeared three years after Canby himself had expired. Even so, it’s something of a shock to see that Michiko actually liking a novelist. Go through her archives and you’re not going to find a rave for a fiction book until her February review of Dana Spiotta’s Eat the Document.
So what are we to make of this? Is this a critic who can no longer feel the thrills of ficitve immersion? I’m not against negative reviews (far from it). And Michiko has had no problems these days passing plaudits for nonfiction books.
I’m not asking for Michiko to turn into a Harriet Klausner. But when a critic goes nine months without actually liking anything, one must ask why she bothers to cover fiction in the first place. Sure, there are a lot of dogs out there right now. (Lisey’s Story, I’m looking at you!) But this being the autumn publishing season, there are any number of books to be enthusiastic about right now.
Is There Nobody Who Will Send Litbloggers Pessl?
The Old Hag has broken her silence! And she addresses an issue that I’ve been frankly too lazy to pursue: is there not a single publicist at Viking who will send out copies of Marisha Pessl’s Special Topics in Calamity Physics? I still don’t have a copy.
[UPDATE: Perhaps concerned with their public perception on the accommodation front, Viking has contacted me and they are indeed sending me a copy of the book. Many thanks!]
Lethem Audio
The audio geek in me has always wondered how an audio book gets produced. Well, over at Galleycat, Sarah gives us an idea of what goes into an audio book and, even better, it’s the audio book for Jonathan Lethem’s upcoming You Don’t Love Me Yet. The post features an exclusive MP3 of Lethem at the recording sessions.
BSS #75: George Ilsley & Matt Cheney
Condition of Mr. Segundo: Avoidant of infestations.
Guests: Matt Cheney and George Ilsley
Subjects Discussed: The “arc” of the LBC, small presses, Kinsey, entomological inspiration, language play, relationships, Dan Savage, Queer as Folk, Brokeback Mountain, unexpected audiences, unreliable narrators, insect collections, gall wasps, bed bugs, unique interpretations of Manbug, synesthesia, basing the book’s structure on an evolution of consciousness, Buddhism, sex scenes, footnotes, the correct pronunciation of smriti, and learning through bugs.
(A co-production of the LBC, Pinky’s Paperhaus, and The Bat Segundo Show)
Could Have Used More Notice, But I’m In
Pinky Picking Up the Slack
Stephen Elliott, a writer who I don’t believe will ever appear on the Bat Segundo Show, has been ably interviewed over at Pinky’s Paperhaus. One interesting revelation from the interview: Paul Auster Billy Corgan* doesn’t believe in voting.
* — That’s what I get for paying continuous partial attention. Apologies to Mr. Auster for the error.
Every Time You Think of a Kitten Dying, a Chicken With Two Anuses Dies
Stuff: “The Te Uku-bred Barnevelder chick – hatched at Marlene Dickey’s property at the start of last month – has died. But it wasn’t the extra legs that led to its death, more likely an extra anus, Mrs Dickey believes.”
Beneath the Hoff is a Psycho Who Wants to Serve Time
Sun: “David Hasselhoff is so protective over his teenage daughter, he has threatened to chop her boyfriend’s penis off if he hurts her….’To him I said: “If you hurt my daughter in any way, I will take you outside and I will cut your thing off. I have no problem spending the rest of my life in prison.”‘”
Auctorial Doppelgangers, Part Twenty-Two
PICTURED LEFT: Richard Dawkins, made name by playing serial creationist killer.
PICTURED RIGHT: Anthony Hopkins, made name by playing serial killer.
Can This Really Be True?
BBC: “There will be virtually nothing left to fish from the seas by the middle of the century if current trends continue, according to a major scientific study. Stocks have collapsed in nearly one-third of sea fisheries, and the rate of decline is accelerating.”
Lethem & Schatzberg
Jonathan Lethem (one of the good Literary Jonathans) sends word that he’s hosting an 826NYC fundraiser. The movie is Scarecrow, which I contend is a pretty good flick with Hackman and Pacino. The action goes down at The IFC Center on November 9 in 7:30 PM. If you’re in New York and you want to see Lethem geek out with director Jerry Schatzberg, you may want to check this out.
American Readers Are Made of Stern Stuff, Thank You Very Much
Globe & Mail: “A French-language novel by Calgary-born Nancy Huston that was awarded France’s prestigious Prix Femina this week was expected to be published in English first — but the novelist’s Canadian publisher and New York agent held off doing that this year because they wanted Huston to change portions of her text to avoid offending U.S. readers.”
Return of the Slate Audio Book Club
After announcing that they had “returned from a late-summer hiatus” in September, those swank sophists at the Slate Audio Book Club have, after a six week absence, returned for more shallow hijinks. Buddha help us all.
Regular Reluctant readers will recall that, the last time this intrepid trio graced the microphones, they let loose all manner of racist generalizations about Toni Morrison’s Beloved and, so far as anybody knows, only one brave listener (Powell’s Books blogger Lewis) was able to make it to the thirteen minute mark.
This time out, the book is Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma. After an august introduction from a dour man named Andy Bowers and a “jazz” tune reminiscent of something I heard in an elevator last week, Meghan O’Rourke again returns to hosting duties, suggesting that the group should get ready to discuss “plot points.” (Go Team!) Never mind that Pollan has not authored a novel, but a nonfiction book, what O’Rourke refers to as “a complicated book,” perhaps because she forgot to set the fiction/non-fiction toggle switch in her head shortly before recording this podcast.
She then asks for reactions from Stephen Metcalf and Katie Roiphe. Metcalf refers to corn as the “the sort of binding, kind of guiding, you know, object in the book.” (Perhaps he intended “subject.” But then, given O’Rourke’s inability to separate fact and fiction, I suppose Metcalf was facing similar difficulties adjusting.) The corn, in Metcalf’s words, “gives the narrative some thrust and strength early on.” (One would hope so, if we view Pollan’s corn as a phallic metaphor, assuming that Pollan’s book can be read as fiction.)
Strangely, Metcalf points out that The Omnivore’s Dilemma can be categorized in a new nonfiction genre that concern food issues, including Fast Food Nation and Super Size Me, a book I must confess unfamiliarity with. Presumably, much as O’Rourke cannot distinguish between fiction and nonfiction, Metcalf cannot distinguish between books and films. (Although, Morgan Suprlock did, in fact, author a book called Don’t Eat This Book.) Even stranger, Metcalf near plaigiarizes the LBC term of art “in a flooded marketplace” by noting how Pollan’s book finds an audience “in a crowded marketplace,” leaving one to wonder if the Slate Audio Book Club is Slate’s airheaded rejoinder to the Litblog Co-Op’s efforts.
And then Katie Rolphe, the Elizabeth Hasselbeck of podcasting, emerges from the honeycomb, proudly announcing that the book “had a strong effect on my thinking.” Roiphe, never one to offer an example to support her generalizations, surprising given her Ph.D., then switches gears in seconds, finding the book “flawed, deeply flawed” — complaining not of the positions that Pollan takes, but of the book’s apparent sentimentality. Roiphe, perhaps unnerved by anything challenging her possible belief that New York is the center of the universe, then states that she found Pollan’s concentration on the farm “off-putting,” as if delving into how food is cultivated and manufactured was somehow bucolic instead of scientific. Given this bizarre logic, I am curious what Roiphe’s take would be on a quantum physics book. Would she find it “off-putting” because she doesn’t care for cats or multiconsonant names like Schroedinger? Would she rail similarly against subjects that are absolutely vital to the subject at hand?
But Roiphe’s objections become even stranger. Witness this grand morsel of stupidity:
“And I also found what I take as sort of fu…kind of almost like a yuppie fussiness over food that I just am…can’t get that interested in. And this is a 400 page book….and part of me, part of his argument and some of the places he takes his argument, I just couldn’t go along with it.”
And with affirmative susurrations by fellow dunces O’Rourke and Metcalfe, without either of these Two Great Thinkers asking Roiphe for specifics about what made Pollan’s argument so “flawed” or unpalatable, with assenting head nodding and thoughtful grunts, the podcast continues. O’Rourke then complains about Pollan setting a portion of his book in the San Francisco Bay, scraping salt from the bottom of the bay for his own homemade salt because of “yuppie fussiness.” Never mind that Pollan has written a book attempting to explain why Americans eat the way that we do and that examining why so much of our current food is laden with corn is far from “fussy” or “yuppie,” but more within the territory of scrutiny.
Indeed, I fail to understand what class has to do with ecological concerns. An equally disinterested and ignorant reader might very well apply “yuppie fussiness” to an environmental scientist investigating the melting polar icecaps. By what stretch of the imagination is investigation “fussy” or “yuppie?”
Disgusted by this myopic and anti-intellectual tone (and Roiphe’s eager Chihuahua-like voice), I Alt-F4ed my player at the 4:14 mark, unable to handle any more of this nonsense. And I now firmly believe that the Slate Audio Book Club is beyond repair. Keep in mind that this jejune conversation occurred with at least six weeks of preparation. Not since the film adaptation of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy have I seen a more stunning waste of time and resources.
Nevertheless, I put forth the challenge to you: can you make it longer than four minutes?
[UPDATE: It looks like Jessa Crispin listened to the whole podcast, thus making her the only person we know of on the Internet courageous enough to listen to the whole thing.]
Can the Demos Take the Senate? (Part One)
As next week’s election approaches with an uncertain focus, the question that every progressive is asking right now is whether the Democrats have a shot at securing a majority in both houses (and, most importantly, the Senate). Yes, the House of Representatives looks pretty strongly Democrat at this point. If today’s voters get in touch with their inner Charles Bronsons at the polls (assuming the Diebold machines don’t malfunction), their grand acts of payback will almost certainly be in the lower Congressional races.
But the Senate remains a more troubling arena of concern. Those who recall the way that Senator Henry Cabot Lodge sabotaged Woodrow Wilson’s League of Nations in 1919 know very well that this is where the true Macbeth-like figures commit their quiet homicides. Senators, having four more years in their term than those who occupy the lower house, know very well that they can outlast a President. And it is here where the ruthless impulses of social Darwinism are the finest. Senators do not often wave to those shown out the door. They ask their pages to do this, if they are feeling generous (and this is frankly not that often). Thus, there is greater effrontery and often greater hubris at work.
Larry Sabato has peered into his crystal ball and suggests the Demos will win six seats and thus capture the majority. Me? I’m not so sure. (And given that Lieberman is running as an Independent, a fact overlooked by Sabato, is he really a true-blue Democrat?)
Rest assured, I’ll be holed up in my apartment with a bottle of bourbon on Tuesday night: the television blared up at full volume, the neighbors pounding on my door, my apartment filled with eldritch cries of triumph and terror, the Department of Elections websites bookmarked, my twitchy finger hitting F5 more frenetically than a mescaline addict. Perhaps my incoherent ruminations will be posted here. I do not know. These are the sad confessions of a political junkie who gives a damn and has become quite savagely optimistic about the whole November mess, hoping that more than a few corpulent pigs will be roasted over painful, career-killing conflagrations set by vengeful constituencies who have had enough.
But for the moment, here’s part one of my sober take on the midterm elections. More alcohol-fueled speculations will occur on Tuesday night.
Candidates: John Kyl (R) and Jim Pederson (D)
Tuscon Weekly reports that a KAET poll shows that Kyl is ahead 47 to 41%. Bill Clinton is appearing today to boost Pederson.
Without citing anything specific, the San Francisco Chornicle reports that “Pederson’s poll numbers show him trailing by only single digits.” What poll numbers? The KAET poll? What kind of lazy reporting is this?
Meanwhile, the National Review‘s John J. Miller is having his doubts about Kyl, based on the KAET poll.
I’m forced to conclude that the race is close but by no means locked. A lot can happen in five days. I’m not certain that the Bill Clinton effect will have that dramatic an impact. Then again, with Bush’s recent announcement of the immigration fence, the GOP may have taken a stick at a beehive.
Analysis: Likely Kyl, but it ain’t over till it’s over.
Candidates: Joe Lieberman (I) and Ned Lamont (D)
Ned Lamont hasn’t been performing nearly as strongly in Connecticut as progressives had hoped. While it is true that Lamont has made gains, decreasing his trailing gap in the polls from 17% to 12% over the past two week, this isn’t enough momentum to secure a close race in five days, even with this most recent campaign financing scandal.
So we’re left with Lieberman, the Democrat who couldn’t even win his own party’s primary. And I think Sabato is being very naive in thinking that Lieberman will vote with the Democrats. Perhaps at first, in a Democratically controlled Senate, he will. But once Joe gets in the hot seat again, he’ll have six more years to expand his hubris, all pledges of “supporting Democratic leadership” to the contrary.
(And Ralph Nader campaigning for the Connecticut Greens when Lamont is running is just ridiculous.)
Analysis: Lieberman will win.
Candidates: Michael Steele (R) and Ben Cardin (D)
If anything, we can thank Rush Limbaugh. His callous and ignorant allegations directed at Michael J. Fox have given Cardin a bit of a boost and spawned a Maryland-based debate on stem cell research, with Steele insisting that he too supports stem cell researchl. Despite the Limbaugh debacle, Steele has tightened his trail as of Wednesday. Cardin leads Steele 49 to 43%, an improvement from September, when he fell behind by 11 points.
I think the African-American voting bloc question is moot, given that, as of Tuesday, 74% of blacks support Cardin. Black voters aren’t dumb.
Analysis: Cardin will win.
Candidates: George Allen (R) and Jim Webb (D)
The latest CNN and SurveyUSA polls suggest that Webb is ahead by somewhere between 3-4%. Perhaps the biggest surprise was the Rasmussen poll unveiled on Monday, with Webb finally pulling forward in what has been a very close race.
The Virginia Senate race doesn’t cause one to drink nearly as much as the Missouri race, but it’s still just insane enough to cause some concern. There was, most recently, Senator Allen’s crazed encounter with blogger Michael Stark (see video here), in which a question about Allen’s wife elicited several thugs to tackle Stark, who is now pressing charges. Allen’s team has attempted to point the finger at Webb, which makes this all very interesting, given that it was Allen’s team, after all, who decided to manhandle the blogger.
Contrary to the Kos’s colossal hubris, I doubt very highly whether most Virginians actually care about bloggers, but this violent moment may very well crystalize the difference between Allen and Webb.
Further, Webb has been smart enough to employ veterans and Wesley Clarke to speak in favor of him, playing up Webb’s military experience.
This is certainly a close race, but it looks to me that Webb’s campaign is far more focused and less accusatory than Allen’s and that he may pull a victory by a nose.
Analysis: Webb will win, just barely.
Candidates: Mike McGavick (R) and Maria Cantwell (D)
McGavick is looking more preposterous every day. If he genuinely believes that condemning Cantwell for responding to Kerry’s botched joke with “not just silence but an immediate fundraiser,” then he severely underestimates not only the intelligence of Washington voters. Silence, as anyone who’s attended a high school rhetoric class knows, does not necessarily mean endorsement. And Cantwell’s team responded by stating that they supported the troops.
That McGavick wants to make a mountain out of this picayune undulation is telling of his desperation, reflected also in his recent pulling of Seattle television ads. In light of his history, it will be interesting to see if the guy goes crazy on election night just after his concession speech.
With Cantwell holding a comfortable twelve point lead, it’s clear who will end up the winner.
Analysis: Cantwell will win.
RIP William Styron
William Styron, the author of The Confessions of Nat Turner, Sophie’s Choice, and Darkness Visible, the latter book being one of the more compelling memoirs on depression that I’ve read, has passed away. He was 81. Like Mailer, Styron built up a literary reputation early, pumping out Lie Down in Darkness at the ripe young age of 25. But Styron is perhaps best known for The Confessions of Nat Turner, which not only earned Styron the Pulitzer Prize but had him decried for depicting Nat Turner in less than heroic terms and for being a Caucasian depicting an African-American experience.
Styron was one of the mighty handful that founded the Paris Review along with George Plimpton. And you have to respect a guy who got into the novel writing business because McGraw-Hill fired him for throwing balloons out of an office window.
George Ilsley Alert
Over at the LBC, Manbug author George Ilsley has begun guest blogging, along with several Q&As that Matt Cheney has conducted. On Friday, there will be a podcast posted — a collaboration between Pinky’s Paperhaus and The Bat Segundo Show.
When Running Scared, Attack Candidates from Two Years Ago
Kerry botches joke, Kerry apologizes. But dammit, it’s not enough for John McCain, nor apparently Tony Snow. (The Snow press conference was hours after Kerry apologized.)
The Republicans look more ridiculous every day.