Supper and superation

Monday 11/22/21

A few new items here. This is an essay in The Smart Set on Powell and Pressburger's 1944 film, A Canterbury Tale, one of the most moving and uplifting works of art. Here is my interview on Downtown from the other day, about a Thanksgiving-themed episode of Suspense based upon a Ray Bradbury story, Orson Welles reading John Donne, Arthur Machen and writing well, the Beatles' "Cry Baby Cry," and a Green Day BBC session from 1994. And this is a new piece I wrote for The Daily Beast on Paul McCartney's Lyrics.

Saying “broad daylight” undercuts every argument in which it’s featured because it rhetorically/unwittingly presupposes that a heinous act would be less heinous based upon the time of day it was committed. It applies ephemerality to that which it wants to be gravid.

TV Guide used to have this feature called Cheers and Jeers. I don’t know if it—or TV Guide—is still around. But more and more I see people cheer or jeer based on what they want something to be. The reality isn’t witnessed, let alone vetted or allowed. It’s usually to the side.

When Holmes told Watson—early on in their relationship—that he was lost without his Boswell—Watson being Boswell in this analogy—he was really paying his friend one of the kindest, warmest compliments in all of literature. Or all of anything, for that matter.

Peppermint Patty is a handful, but a good friend to have. Also, it will never fail to make me laugh when Woodstock dines on Thanksgiving turkey and chomps down on his late brethren with great gusto, as if something somewhere along the line became personal. I like to imagine Woodstock saying, "Supper? I give you superation, you bastards!"

Crazy hockey stat: Markus Naslund and Mike Liut are the only two players in NHL history to finish top 6 in MVP voting three times and not be in the Hall of Fame. I think Liut should be in. He is also, interestingly, Leon Draisaitl's agent. There's this guy I sometimes see outside wearing a Liut Hartford Whalers jersey from the 1980s.

If I had to, I could comfortably listen to only the Beatles’ complete BBC sessions and the full run of Grateful Dead concerts in Europe 1972 for the rest of my life and never be bored and always make new discoveries.

A little melodramatic at the end, but this is one of the best half hour episodes of Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar: “The Rasmussen Matter,” from 12/16/56.

Heading out for that coffee earlier, I heard the faint tones of Hallway Hermey, who gets quite attitudinal at this time of year. (And after his summer of binge drinking at that, and his attempted--but ultimately doomed--romancing of a thimble, which made everyone in the building uncomfortable.) I bent down, and he told me, "I'm on tonight, bitch." O dear. But it's true. Rudolph is back, baby! He/they air tonight.

Did a calculation over the weekend and by a very conservative estimate I am now writing the equivalent of twenty books per year.

Wrote another 2000 word story this AM--also needs work--and an op-ed. Will run stairs now.

Postscript: Ran 3000 stairs while listening to Live/Dead. I have also now revised a 2500 word essay on jazz pianist Freddie Redd.