Magic Mirror Time

Hey, since we're all so excited about Dr. Dee all of a sudden, look what I found! This is his own little magic mirror, for real, "The Black Stone into which Dr. Dee used to call his spirits." It's from Mexico and was originally used by Aztec priests! "Click" here to be magically transported to the British Museum for more information.

Our Lofty Pretensions

Burke and I have been discussing Dr. John Dee... NEVER MIND WHY! Maybe we just have lofty pretensions, did you ever think of that? And that made me dig out this book I have, THE BOOK OF ENGLISH MAGIC, the authors of which (Philip Carr-Gomm and Richard Heygate) are really alarmingly credulous, but who cares? Turns out there's a whole chapter on Dr. John Dee. Here are some "fave" sentences: "During his time at Cambridge he achieved notoriety - and narrowly escaped conviction for sorcery - by constructing a mechanical flying beetle for a stage production of Aristophanes' PAX. It was so realistic that it terrified members of the audience, who thought it the work of the devil." Edward Kelley, the man Dr. Dee hired to help him communicate with angels, is described as "Often wearing a cowl to disguise the fact that his ears had been lopped, supposedly for forging coins... Kelley clearly took a fancy to Jane and told Dee that the spirits had requested they share each other's wives. Dee was skeptical at first, and Jane herself was far from enthusiastic."

Tracey From the Gem Shopping Network

Insomniacs! You could spend your miserable hours in much worse company than that of "Tracey" from the Gem Shopping Network. She keeps up a steady stream of patter - whispering, humming, singing, shouting, doing accents - it's a thrill ride! She'll drop in a non sequitur about the moon landing, or a few bars of "The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia" (or "Before the Parade Passes By" or "Winter Wonderland"). Sometimes she just goes, "La la la la la la la la la la la!" On a mournful note, the death of her father came up briefly; she was frank and exhibited no self-pity on the subject. But don't think she is not moving product! Sure, she tells you about the time she broke her leg, but that's just because a bejeweled golden frog that seems to be comically saying "Oh my!" (its hands to its face and its tongue poking out) makes her think of how lucky she is to have such great women friends who took care of her when she broke her leg, and how this frog is just the kind of thing they might give each other as a present and have the giggles over. As for the "Musical Majestic Egg" that plays the love theme from THE TITANIC, she says you could hide an engagement ring in it for a nice surprise or "give it to your granddaughter who hasn't been born yet." Then she talked about how she grew up in a Kentucky jail! Her father was a jailer. Her family lived downstairs. "We ate the same food the prisoners ate," she said. "And it was pretty good food." The first time Tracey went to a country club, she didn't know which fork to use! I love you, Tracey from the Gem Shopping Network! (I'd show you a picture of Tracey, or at least the comical "Oh my!" frog, but the dumb idiot "web" host is still broken and forces me to "blog" on a borrowed computer to which I cannot in good conscience upload pictures.) Note to the government: I am not affiliated with nor compensated by the Gem Shopping Network. I wish!

How Dedicated I Am

There is something wrong with stupid dumb old "Blogger," the "web" "host" of this site, so I cannot "blog" from my own "computer." I have to find someone else's! Which I have done. For you. I will tell you what else I did for you today. Remember that old man who writes a column in the local disposable circular? That's right! The one who opines about sad clown Emmett Kelly and the time his parents went to an Al Jolson concert. I promised to find out more about him. Well! His publication, "The LaFa Shopper," has almost zero "web" "presence," which I kind of respect, the way an FBI agent in a terrible movie develops a grudging respect for a clever serial killer. So, my friends, I WALKED TO THEIR OFFICE TODAY WITH MY ACTUAL FEET. It's off the square. And I found out the name of the columnist, which is John Arrechea. I won't lie to you: I was a little worried about him! He is obviously getting on in years, and his column has not appeared in the last several editions of "The LaFa Shopper." This week, for example, there is some horticulturist where John Arrechea should be, talking about "ornamental peppers," and who cares about that? Nobody! The friendly, white-haired receptionist told me not to worry, that Mr. Arrechea's column does not appear every week. I said I was relieved. "He's a good person," she said.

Oh Boy

Speaking of newspapers, in his new book ALPHABETTER JUICE, Roy Blount Jr. has an interesting section on headlines. One of his favorites is "Coconut-Carrying Octopus Found." He calls it "alluring," and he is right. But I saw an AP headline the other day that I found alluring in an opposite way: "Ga. Police: Upset Councilman Spills Food at Diner." It was alluring because it was so boring! By sheer coincidence, as I compose this very "post" I see via his twitter account that Ben Greenman is currently concerned with a "non-story" (AP again!) bearing the headline "Spacewalking Astronaut Gets Something In Eye." Greenman's favorite part seems to be "The spacewalkers noted that the problem with tears in space is that 'they don't fall off of your eye... they kind of stay there.'" But I think MY favorite part is what the astronaut says when he gets something in his eye: "'Oh boy,' Feustel moaned." PS: Blount quotes a scholarly journal as saying that the octopus building a little house out of coconut shells is "the first evidence of tool use in an invertebrate animal." But is that really tool use? Are we to believe then that every bird who makes a nest is "using tools"? I don't think so! I consider it an insult to the mighty crow who with patience and ingenuity fashions a hooked instrument to dig bugs out of a tree. THAT is real tool use, my friends. Let's not throw around "tool use" so casually. PPS: Last night at dinner with Tom Franklin and Beth Ann Fennelly I started to talk about crows. "Don't get me started about crows!" I actually exclaimed. And, "Have I mentioned this before?" Everyone replied, "Yes." Said Beth Ann, "And you sent me links about it." So I have become this guy who constantly rambles about crows at social gatherings of every kind, and follows up with helpful e-mails. PPPS: Since I began writing this very long "post," and you really don't want to know how long it takes me, it's too sad, the AP has changed their headline to the disappointingly more specific "Spacewalking Astronaut Gets Stinging Soap In Eye." PPPPS: They also edited out my favorite line, "'Oh boy,' Feustel moaned." That makes me mad! Did NASA contact them and say it reflected badly on the space program? I call it censorship! It really used to be there. It came right after the line (which is still there, for now) "'Sorry, buddy,' Fincke said."

Lavished

The New York Times has been lavishing us with the obituaries of wealthy eccentrics. Today it's the reclusive daughter of a copper baron: "She ate austere lunches of crackers and sardines and watched television, most avidly 'The Flintstones.' A housekeeper kept the dolls’ dresses impeccably ironed." The other day it was a viscount, who said this as he led a visitor through a gallery of his ancestral portraits: "That’s the second baron, known as Dickie Ducklegs. He spent most of his wife’s fortune building this place and defending a woman in Godalming accused of giving birth to rabbits."

Something Else You Have Been Asking Yourself

Thanks to the twitter account of A.G. Pasquella, bless him, I now know that Art Garfunkel read WUTHERING HEIGHTS in September of 1969. Yes, there is a "web" site that lists every book Art Garfunkel read from 1968-2009. So rest easy tonight! There's an asterisk next to WUTHERING HEIGHTS on the list, and I am not sure what Mr. Garfunkel means by it, but I intend to spend the rest of my life finding out. (PS: The asterisk means it's one of his faves! That didn't take as long to figure out as I thought.)

What You Have Been Asking Yourself

I know what you have been asking yourself about Jason Polan and his determination to draw every person in New York City: "When is he going to make it to Angela Lansbury?" Well, friends, wonder no more!

The Latest Report

Everybody, you will be so ecstatic to hear that I have seen another TV commercial I would like to tell you about. It stars one of our local weathermen! (Or maybe he is a news anchor. Anyway, he looks familiar.) He says, "Thinking of remodeling your home? Have you SEEN the latest report? There is only one way to get back OVER 100 percent of your investment... AN IRON FRONT DOOR." I cannot overemphasize the ominousness he brings to the question "Have you SEEN the latest report?" That report sounds like a dilly! Maybe I don't WANT to see it! Of the iron front door, our weatherman makes the astounding promise, "It won't rot." Best of all the iron door company is called "Quantum Entries." Quantum Entries! That is some kind of name. Note to the government, who now regulates such things: this is not a paid endorsement for Quantum Entries brand Iron Doors. It is just a story about a dramatic commercial I saw. There are many commercials I don't like, and I complain about them constantly, but I like commercials about iron front doors and needles with extra big eyes and cactus juice that solves all your problems.

McNeil's Delight

McNeil delights in sending me to "web" sites I cannot show you due to "blog" safety policy, like the one that says, "The first reaction for many on seeing this magnificent crop circle is usually a 'BiG WOW' coupled with some spine chills and a rising wave of excitement seeing this brilliant transdimensional crop circle message..." That site also reveals that NEWSRADIO cast member Joe Rogan is a "pioneer" who has "adventures" in "invisible realms."

The Wire

Remember the piece of wire that has been holding my eyeglasses together since June 7, 2008? Well, today it came loose. I unwound it then wrapped it back around the necessary spot, and now it's working better than ever! Same piece of wire! First adjustment it has ever needed. This piece of wire just won't quit. Let's hear it for the piece of wire.

Jr.

Well, I didn't catch the beginning, and I didn't make it to the end, but I feel safe in saying that THE STORY OF WILL ROGERS is the blandest movie ever made, save for the weird spectacle I mentioned in the previous "post": watching Will Rogers, Jr., who plays Will Rogers, woo Jane Wyman as his mother, giving her an awkward smooch in an alleyway, for example, when he hears the news of his own impending birth. Oh, and there's a scene where Woodrow Wilson summons Will Rogers to the White House to demand that he become a writer, which is interesting because that's exactly how I became a writer. Then Will Rogers goes home and drinks a glass of milk and frets about becoming a writer, and Jane Wyman says (I'll paraphrase), "Will Rogers, you do what the president tells you!" Yep, that's the way it works. In his book ALPHABET JUICE, Roy Blount Jr. points out that Walt Whitman and Muhammad Ali (as Cassius Clay) were both juniors; he thinks it no coincidence that one wrote "Song of Myself" and the other declared, "I am the greatest." It's about making "a name for himself," writes Blount, himself a junior, in case you didn't notice. I wonder what he would make of Will Rogers, Jr., or the other juniors we have mentioned on the "blog" who played their fathers in movies: Dick Powell, Jr. (though that was just a cameo), and Jesse James, Jr. And what about Hank Williams, Jr., who dubbed his father's vocals in a biopic and has invoked (to put it politely) his name in so many other ways? Hey, I bet you are wondering why I don't put a comma in the name Roy Blount Jr. What? You're not? I'm going to tell you anyway. Roy Blount Jr. doesn't want a comma, that's why. "One stroke of fuss that I can spare the world," he calls it. If you read the Oxford American essay I wrote about Roy Blount Jr. and Woody Allen, you will see where somebody on the editorial side went behind me and stuck all the commas back in.

The Uncomfortable Story of Will Rogers

I am watching THE STORY OF WILL ROGERS on TCM right now. Will Rogers is being played by his real-life son Will Rogers, Jr. Right now he is courting Jane Wyman, who I assume is playing his future mother. That's weird, right? Will Rogers, Jr., having to pretend to fall in love with his own mother? I can't be the only person who has thought of this. But I might be the only person who remembers who Will Rogers was.

Yes, Please

Here are three things about ALPHABETTER JUICE, Roy Blount Jr.'s sequel to his lexicological compendium ALPHABET JUICE. 1) Citing the OED (!) as his source, Mr. Blount informs us that Q-tips were invented in 1923 and originally called "Baby Gays." 2) Mr. Blount gives Jerry Lewis some grief for once proclaiming, "My humility in this moment is staggering." 3) The entry under "clown" begins, "Want to hear a sad clown story?" Yes, please!

Old Man Column

Remember when I told you about the old man who wrote a column about his collector plates featuring sad clown Emmett Kelly? Well, last week (I think it was) his column was about the time his parents left him with a babysitter and went to an Al Jolson concert (!!!???!!!). I didn't see him in this week's edition of the "LaFa Shopper." I'm going to try to track down his name so I can tell you more about him.

I Like Trees

I was just over at Square Books looking at all the books. And I saw one with the subtitle "One Man's Serendipitous Journey to Find the Trees That Inspired Famous American Writers." Look, don't get me wrong, I like trees. In fact, you might just say I love trees. If you don't believe me, check out this dumb old interview I did in which the last thing I mention (with horrific sentimentality) is a tree. But there are still lots of reasons why "One Man's Serendipitous Journey to Find the Trees That Inspired Famous American Writers" is the least exciting subtitle ever, including the desperation of the word "famous," which seems to sense, like the host of a terrible party, how dull the rest of the subtitle is. By way of contrast, let us examine the subtitle of STUNTMAN! by Hal Needham, our current Doomed Book Club selection: "My Car-Crashing, Plane-Jumping, Bone-Breaking, Death-Defying Hollywood Life." That's a subtitle that tells you Hal Needham might just narrowly avoid being murdered by a serial killer in his book! Which is something that happens in STUNTMAN! for real! I doubt it happens on one man's serendipitous journey to find trees. The only thing that saves Hal Needham is drinking booze instead of milk. Let that be a lesson, kids! The milk has been drugged by the serial killer! I should add that in STUNTMAN!, Hal Needham begins his professional life as a tree climber: "As Lenny and I watched, I commented a little too loud that those guys didn't know how to climb a tree. A voice from behind said, 'And I suppose you do.' I shot back, 'You can bet your house on that, son.'" Then Hal Needham climbs the tree and everybody is stunned at his prodigious tree-climbing skills. Now THAT'S how you handle a tree! As my friend the Hollywood producer pointed out, it (Hal Needham blurts out something inappropriate; people laugh at Hal Needham; Hal Needham makes them look like idiots; everybody suddenly loves Hal Needham and gives him lots of money) is the template for just about everything that happens in STUNTMAN!

What I Also Like

I also like the end of that commercial where the guy looks at the camera and says, "Towels?" with a big grimace on his face. Except he says, "TOWELS?" I can imagine the director egging him on: "If this is going to work, you have to go bigger with the towels line!" It really cries out to be followed by a trombone with a wah-wah mute or a loud disruptive BOING! of some kind, but all it gets is a couple of dainty flute arpeggios.

Something

Hey, there's this thing ("click" here) on the "blog" of Megan Abbott and Sara Gran. Go look at it. NOW, I said! Look at it first before you read the rest of this "post" so I don't spoil it for you. Okay! Did you look at it? Promise? My favorite thing is the comments section where somebody writes, "Nobody would have the [nerve] to say something to Frank’s face about that coat," and Megan Abbott replies to said commenter, "I would say something. And that something would be: 'I am in love with you, Frank Sinatra!'"

Oh Yeah!

Oh yeah, John Currence was on TREME last night. He said (I think I'm getting this right), "Come back in six months for the best fried chicken you'll ever eat." That was him! I was surprised to hear about Ashton Kutcher taking over for Charlie Sheen on TWO AND A HALF MEN. Currence is on so many TV shows lately I just sort of assumed it would be him.

Hey

Hey, here's an obituary headline in today's New York Times: "Wallace McCain Dies at 81; Fed the World Frozen Fries." I don't know. Does that seem kind of... backhanded for an obituary headline?