Cat Life

Miss Mandu is ready for winter.

Assateague Island

I finally made it to Assateague Island to see the wild horses.  The bad news: The weather was terrible, with cold, sideways rain.  The good news: While the horses were definitely not on the beach, I could hear them in the tree line.  I was able to see two of the beautiful beasts, at least.

I'll have to get back at some point for a fuller experience, but even in October it was worth the visit.

"necessary and accidental"

"Taking possession of this new abode, I put on my thinking cap.  I reasoned more or less as follows: Civilization is a thing both necessary and accidental; like the lining of a nest, it is a shelter from the world, a tiny counterworld that the large world silently tolerates, with the toleration of indifference, because in it there is no answer to the questions of good and evil, beauty and ugliness, laws and customs. Language, the creation of civilization, is like the framework of the nest; it binds all the bits of lining and units them into the shape that is deemed necessary by the occupants of the nest. Language is an appeal to the joint identity of the nesting beings, their common denominator, their constant of similarity and therefore its influence must end immediately beyond the edge of that subtle structure."

-- Stanislaw Lem, His Master's Voice

Happy Third Birthdays!

Happy third birthday to Chingu (male tux) and Mandu (female cream with spots).  Actually, we'll never know exactly when they were born since they're both rescues.  Mandu, the smaller one, is actually about five days older than Chingu.  Anyhow, much stinky Churu paste was consumed.

These guys are the best!

"I know that office, they issue passports to anybody."

"The cat then stirred, jumped off the chair, stood on his hind legs, front legs akimbo, opened his maw and said:

'Well, so I sent the telegram. What of it?'

Maximilian Andreevich's head at once began to spin, his arms and legs went numb, he dropped the suitcase and sat down on a chair facing the cat.

'I believe I asked in good Russian?' the cat said sternly. 'What of it?'

But Poplavsky made no reply.

'Passport!' barked the cat, holding out a plump paw.

Understanding nothing and seeing nothing except the two sparks burning in the cat's eyes, Poplavsky snatched the passport from his pocket like a dagger. The cat picked up a pair of glasses in thick black frames from the pier-glass table, put them on his muzzle, thus acquiring a still more imposing air, and took the passport from Poplavsky's twitching hand.

'I wonder, am I going to faint or not?...' thought Poplavsky.

From far away came Koroviev's snivelling, the whole front hall filled with the smell of ether, valerian and some other nauseating vileness.

'What office issued this document?' the cat asked, peering at the page. No answer came.

'The 412th,' the cat said to himself, tracing with his paw on the passport, which he was holding upside down. 'Ah, yes, of course! I know that office, they issue passports to anybody. Whereas I, for instance, wouldn't issue one to the likes of you! Not on your life I wouldn't! I'd just take one look at your face and instantly refuse!' The cat got so angry that he flung the passport on the floor. 'Your presence at the funeral is cancelled, the cat continued in an official voice. 'Kindly return to your place of residence.' And he barked through the door: 'Azazello!'

At his call a small man ran out to the front hall, limping, sheathed in black tights, with a knife tucked into his leather belt, red-haired, with a yellow fang and with albugo in his left eye.

Poplavsky felt he could not get enough air, rose from his seat and backed away, clutching his heart.

'See him off, Azazello!' the cat ordered and left the hall.

'Poplavsky,' the other twanged softly, 'I hope everything's understood now?'

Poplavsky nodded."

-- Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita

One Battle After Another: Wut I Thunk

Paul Thomas Anderson channels his inner Tarantino (ultraviolence, edgy racial humor) and makes a shlubby Leonard DiCaprio his anti-hero for the ages.  There's some real humor as well.  The ICE scenes are intense, but also strangely ineffective -- if freedom is only a phone call to Benicio del Toro's dojo away, what's to worry about in the long run?  Sean Penn chews lots of scenery as the bad guy, and this might be a deal-breaker for some.

Overall, very classy with a few misses.

Four revolutionary joints out of five!

Is It Fall Yet?

My nephew rode brilliantly this weekend in the warm weather.  Nice way to celebrate the end of summer!

The Long Walk: Wut I Thunk

When it doesn't seem like it should work, it manages to.  When it has moments that might be capitalized on to go from good to great, it doesn't quite manage.

Mark Hamill isn't given much material to work with, so he grunts a lot.  The violence is predictably graphic, but the script also manages to bring some warmth and humor at times.

It's ultimately a movie about relationships, as strange as that might sound in such a twisted world.

Peter, the second lead, has an accent that swerves crazily between rural Alabama and Cockney London.  It's truly distracting.

The ending is safe and predictable and goes against a major sacrifice by the main character.  If only it had ended about one minute sooner it would have been something special.

Three sets of post-apocalyptic insoles out of five!

"bigger and bigger machines"

"'Strategic considerations dictate the construction of bigger and bigger machines, and, whether we like it or not, this inevitably means an increase in the amount of information stored in the brains. This in turn means that the brain will steadily increase its control over all of society's collective processes. The brain will decide where to locate the infamous button. Or whether to change the style of infantry uniforms. Or whether to increase production of a certain kind of steel, demanding appropriations to carry out its purposes. Once you create this kind of brain you have to listen to it. If a Parliament wastes time debating whether or not to grant the appropriations it demands, the other side may gain a lead, so after a while the abolition of parliamentary decisions becomes unavoidable. Human control over the brain's decisions will decrease in proportion to the increase in its accumulated knowledge. Am I making myself clear? There will be two growing brains, one on each side of the ocean. What do you think a brain like this will demand first when it's ready to take the next step in the perpetual race?'"

-- Stanislaw Lem, The Investigation

"only statues"

"Suddenly, after I finished a poem, he said, 'Esther, have you ever seen a man?'

The way he said it I knew he didn't mean a regular man or a man in general. I knew he meant a man naked

'No,' I said. 'Only statues.'

'Well, don't you think you would like to see me?'

I didn't know what to say. My mother and my grandmother had started hinting around to me a lot lately about what a fine, clean boy Buddy Willard was, coming from such a fine, clean family, and how everybody at church thought he was a model person, so kind to his parents and to older people, as well as so athletic and so handsome and so intelligent.

All I'd heard about, really, was how fine and clean Buddy was and how he was the kind of person a girl should stay fine and clean for. So I didn't really see the harm in anything Buddy would think up to do.

'Well, all right, I guess so,' I said.

I stared at Buddy while he unzipped his chino pants and took them off and laid them on a chair and then took off his underpants that were made of something like nylon fishnet.

'They're cool,' he explained, 'and my mother says they wash easily.'

Then he just stood there in front of me and I kept on staring at him. The only thing I could think of was turkey neck and turkey gizzards and I felt very depressed."

-- Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

Crabs, Hon

A crab feast with my sister, brother in law, and nephew.  Not cheap, but very delicious.  A nice way to end the summer.