Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ category

Pat Downs

November 19, 2010

Uncomfortable, maybe, but truly a nightmare? ( Sorry- the elephant search above is not a true "pat-down" or even "trunk-down.")

Maybe it’s because I’m a New Yorker, used to the jam of bodies on the subway system, or maybe it’s because I’m a New Yorker who was an  an eye witness to the second plane hitting the South Tower of the World Trade Center on 9/11.  Whatever the reason,  as a New Yorker, I find the consternation about increased airline security, particularly body pat-downs, at best ridiculous, at worst, maddening.

I can understand the worry about the radiation hazards of body scans, but the pat-downs–  Come on, People!

The protest over the patting seems, in part, a sign of the of the over-sexualization of the culture (which tends to fill every touch with innuendo).

Yes, I suppose it’s possible the searches can, and will be, abused.  (Already I find myself backtracking!)  But many are complaining about the concept of any physical search.  (Some of the complaints remind me of a conversation I overheard in Florida just after the ban on taking liquids overseas;  “if Americans can’t take their carry-on on airplanes, the terrorists have won!” )

In many places in the world, these types of searches are routine.  In India, visits to the Taj Majal at night as well as to many museums, and certainly any airplane flight,  involve universal pat downs  – women police officers patting down ladies behind a screen, men patting down men.

Now there’s a thought!  Maybe the answer in this country, given its more sexualized culture, would be to give passengers their choice, gender-wise, of “patter-downer.”

But the part of the controversy that makes me truly upset is the part that places convenience and avoidance of discomfort over concerns of airplane security.   The other day, thinking about this, Patrick J. Brown came to mind, Paddy Brown. (Maybe I thought of him, I realize now, because of the rhyme.).  Brown was an NYPD captain, killed on 9/11.  I did not know him, but several different friends did–one group, because he practiced yoga; another, because he was a martial artist who taught karate to the blind.  All agree that he was a truly remarkable person.  He died because he refused to leave a group of injured people on a high floor of the WTC, waiting with them in the hope of further help.

The Merchant of Venice – Not Glenn Beck

November 12, 2010

I took a break from my normal cut-in-stone activities last night to see the wonderful Al Pacino in Daniel Sullivan’s production of The Merchant of Venice (previously done as part of Shakespeare in the Park.)

I have to confess to never having seen the play before.   Its easy characterization as Anti-semitic makes it a play at which many Shakespeare lovers (even Shakespeare idolators) tend to cringe.

But the play (at least in this incarnation) is frankly amazing, both funnier, much much sadder, and more nuanced, than I had ever realized.

Of course, the language used about and against Jews by the “Venetians” is horrible;  the insinuations and contempt are hard to listen to.  Were the slurs accepted easily in Elizabethan England?  Undoubtedly.  Do they represent Shakespeare’s views?   All one can say is that, as the play goes on, it becomes clear that many of the Christian characters using this language are faithless and venal, many of them oath-breakers and seekers of other’s fortunes.  (See e.g. the romantic hero, Bassanio.)

Shylock in contrast, clings to oaths and bonds.  Played in both a very human yet shruggingly stereotyped fashion by Pacino, he has a Lear-like majesty and pathos.  (“I had a daughter.”).  He is certainly vengeful, but, the Venetians (in this production) are also pretty vengeful.   The characters, and virtually everything else in the play–daughters, metal caskets, the law, mercy, even rings–have at least two sides.

Which brings me to Glenn Beck and George Soros.   I haven’t been able to get myself to listen to all of Beck’s recent rant on Soros, but the part I heard involves Beck accusing the 14-year old Soros of assisting the Nazis during his youth in Nazi-occupied Hungary.  Soros, Beck says, “used to go around with this anti-Semite and deliver papers to the Jews and confiscate their property and then ship them off.”

Did Soros feel guilt about that?  No! Beck says.  Does the goodly Beck judge him?  Again, no!   This is between Soros and God, Beck says.

(To inject a few facts–Soros, to hide his identity in Nazi-occupied Hungary, lived with an agriculture official bribed by his father to pretend that the boy was his Christian godson. Soros once had to accompany his protector to inventory a confiscated Jewish estate. Asked by 60 Minutes if he felt guilty about it, he said no, because he wasn’t a participant and couldn’t stop it.)

Beck’s piece is sickening; it traffics in hyperbole and innuendo; it degrades and distorts history.

What makes it (almost) worse is Beck’s disingenuousness.

One of the wonderful things about Shylock’s character is his straight-forwardness–when asked why he insists on his pound of flesh, he basically says it’s because he’s been wronged, he’s vengeful and he hates Antonio.  No lies, no innuendo, minimal psychobabble.

Nanowrimo – Week 2 – Coasting Through the Bogs (Baths)

November 9, 2010

Would-be Coasting (Notice Book Is Read Rather Than Written)

Nanowrimo organizers warn that the second week of Nanowrimo is especially hard, the exuberance of the first week draining, the adrenalin of the oncoming finish not quite kicking in.

I figured these warnings didn’t apply to me;  after all. my first week wasn’t exactly exuberant.  No, now that I finally had my story, I would coast.

But when I got home from work last night, I had all kinds of non-coasting activities to attend do.

An idea for a blog!  Sure, I wasn’t going to actually write one, but get Pearl to help me.  That shouldn’t take long.  (Ahem.)

Then, well, I should really keep on exercising.  Since country music figures in the novel, I’d dance!  To Dolly Parton!  (Downloading some was a snap.)

OMG–look at you, Pearl!   Yes, it’s a bit cold tonight, but it’s not getting warmer.

Bathwater was run.  No point in a bath without a trim.

Then (I’m not completely heartless) came an hour of holding a shivering Pearl in a down parker next to a heater.

It was getting very late now, and I realized that the time for coasting was sliding down a very slippery slope.)

I would take my notebook into the bath.  (This is one of the best features of sore computer eyes.)

Oops, had to clean the tub.

Okay, so, I told myself, if you are not going to coast, you can at least be workmanlike.  (It’s true that maybe the bath is not the most workmanlike writing studio, but I did have an extra towel handy.)

I set down to writing the scene I had in mind.  Only the country music had put a bunch of other scenes in my mind.  Scenes from further along.

I set down to writing the scene that was supposed to come next.  Only I just couldn’t bear to write that scene–a kind of dinner party–and jumped straight to the after-party late night confrontation between an ancillary villain and one of my female protagonists.  I was going to fit some good (ancillary) character to help her out, not because I felt the young woman needed to be helped so much but because I had a great idea for a snipy kind of line that one of these ancillary characters might use against the villain.  (It involved the Dia Foundation!)

And finally set pen to page.  Only, as I wrote the scene, the dialogue was incredibly sweet, too sweet for the villain.

A couple pages in, I converted him to to one of my male protagonists. an important good guy.   (Who, unfortunately, would not refer to Dia.)

Oh well.

In the meantime, Pearl parked under the down parka, having had enough of Week 2.

And it's only Monday!

Nanowrimo Eyes (i.e. Sore)

November 7, 2010

Oops!

All computer and more computer makes Jill have very sore eyes.

My nanowrimo collation of words (I don’t think it can be called a novel at this point) has passed the 18,000 mark (about 75 pages) but it is unfortunately what my mother-in-law would call a cold collation (a platter of cold slices–meat, cheese, tomato.)

In other words, there’s not much cooking yet.  (I started out with plenty of potboiling despair, but that was mainly venting in “fiction” and I don’t think I can actually use it.)

Still, there is, at least, a framework for characters and a story that I had never thought about before.  (Granted, anyone reading it may think:  aren’t these exactly like the characters in every single thing you write?  But I’ll reply, genuinely astonished, “really?”)

Although it is a mere framework, I comfort myself with thoughts of Obama’s health care legislation–that, at least, it’s something to hang things on–or from.  (Sorry, I’m a huge Obama fan, as followers know– what I mean is that at least it’s a start and that, sigh, you do what you can.)

Unfortunately, my right eye has now revolted.  (I type this wearing sunglasses.)

What is to be done?

A notebook and pen truly are suitable alternatives to a computer.  Granted, most people (i.e. me) hate typing up their scratchings, but people have used these implements for a very long time, producing wonders.

Agh.

Blocking Nanowrimo Writer’s Block – Remembering old Soviet Bloc

November 6, 2010

For me, what is hardest about Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month) is not doing the writing; it’s believing in the writing.

That’s not exactly right.   What’s hard to believe is that the writing will add up to something that will go out into the world and be read.

Partly this relates to a certain lack of confidence in my own ability to finish a project to its utmost finished state.  Although frankly, I have a fair amount of confidence in this area–I’ve written a few novels which at one point or another I believed to be in their utmost finished state.  (The only reason I began unraveling these books was that they didn’t seem to appeal to publishers in that state.)

Which brings me to the source of my true lack of confidence–the increasing awareness of the difficulty in getting projects out so that they are accessible and noticeable in our jam-packed, self-promotional, world.

This end piece (the difficulty in actually doing something with a novel, once written) can make it very difficult to write the novel.  Of course, this gloominess is an excuse, but it’s a true hindrance.

What to do about it?

The answers are obvious but worth writing down:  put the dispiriting out of your mind.  Focus on the endeavor itself.   Find satisfaction in the process.  And, importantly, remember (always) the possibility of the unexpected;  think of the Soviet Union!  Who really predicted–at the time– that it would end the way it did?

I’m not sure my inner novelist is very much like Gorbachev (kind of hope not),  and I’m not sure it’s positive to be inspired by collapses!  But hey, you have to work with what you’ve got.  Keep doing it.

Nano-Update – Falling Victim To The Martyred Selves

November 5, 2010

Falling Victim To the Martyred Self

Over 11,000 words and I don’t have a super clear story yet, though I have a (sort of) direction, and a sense of viable characters.

Needless to say that a lot of the first 10,000 words have not involved these characters.  The primary characters in those beginning forays were martyred versions of myself.  Even as I was writing about those saintly victims, I knew I could probably not use them.  It’s not just that self-pity seems kind of self-indulgent in print; martyred versions of one’s self tend to be very passive, i.e. because they are victims, they don’t tend to do much; people are just mean to them and they sigh.  Little happens.

All those words, however, did make me think of writing about a time, a place, and an activity that I would never have come up with on my own.  Now, the problem is carrying out.  I’ve only truly begun and already I’m getting tired.   Writing does require a certain energy, and I find that that energy gets dampened by a day at the office.  It takes a considerable amount of dancing, (this is where a huge, but very inexpensive, Fred Astaire album on iTunes comes in handy) to build it up again, and so, by the time I start writing, it is very late at night, if not early in the morning.   (All that web-surfing is also a big drain.)

Okay, okay, more self-pity!  I’m sorry!   (Self-pity also generates a certain kind of energy!!!!)

Glad for the week-end.

Nanowrimo–Never Enough Time At The Computer

November 4, 2010

 

Especially If You Have To Share

Nanowrimo – Morning Update – What next?

November 4, 2010

 

Pearl More Enthusiastic Than I am

I’m past 10,000 words and still hoping that my unconscious will supply a story line –you know, one of those things with beginning, middle, and end.  As it is, scenes shift, and something happens inbetween the shifts (the unwritten part), but little in the scenes themselves.  Is it all going to be background?  Random moods?

Granted, my focus has been very mixed.   I just have to hope that my unconscious works best when no one (i.e. me) is watching it too closely.

I don’t truly believe that this is the way interesting novels are written.   I’m a planner.  But then I tell myself to just try.    What do I have to lose?  Why not?  Who cares?   What the F?   Etc. etc. etc.

I’m concerned that all these questions are really a cover for….what’s next?

Frustrated With Nanowrimo (That is, Myself)

November 3, 2010

It’s all a bit frustrating.  I’m working on a Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month novel) and I still have only the merest glimmerings of a story.

I have a lot of old plots I could have used.  I wanted to be freer.

But the freer one that I seem to be working on (which I can’t detail because it’s too amorphous and silly) is amorphous and silly.

Maybe some of the words will add up to something.  I think perhaps the 9000 may be boilable into a reasonable haiku.

Pearl Gets Thoughtful About Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month)

November 3, 2010

Pearl Gets Thoughtful About Nanowrimo