Special From Our Own Correspondent
Submitted By Paul Deppler, 16 May 2008 | 0101 26

Dead Man is the only movie I've seen by Jim Jarmusch. In advance of our viewing, can anyone more experienced say something of what he has done and what he is known for? If there is no such person, what do you anticipate from this movie, based on the title and the things you've heard?

Special From Our Own Correspondent
Submitted By Paul Deppler, 15 May 2008 | 0101 03

I don’t care about Captain Le Dock, or that he Pausanias book table Major. Dostoyesky might have said that about book table cross might have thought

(so don't say it. )

You know Pynchon didn’t say it because he didn’t Landon about that say “Pot”. And he didn’t say “Greg”. He would n’t have gone on and would have what he told himself

(so don’t say it.)

Only one story to tell.

Special From Our Own Correspondent
Submitted By Paul Deppler, 13 May 2008 | 2008 57

Read today in the LBJ book of another victory he dealt for the oil interests: some awful natural gas bill he passed in so outrageous a manner that President Eisenhower (though himself a friend to oil interests and a proponent of the bill) felt compelled to veto it. It was inspiring to have read that about Eisenhower. I struggled to think of something similar today.

I also found a good mention of furnishing in my reading. It seems that Johnson, after his heart attack, was in the habit of taking afternoon naps. Problem was, he was an enormous man and didn't fit on most couches. He therefore had some special ones made ("Battleship couches" as the Senate cabinet maker called them), which were extra long and wide. One of them, actually named for Johnson, remains in the marble room to this day.

*
(The "LBJ book" is Master of The Senate, by Robert A. Caro.)

Special From Our Own Correspondent
Submitted By Paul Deppler, 11 May 2008 | 0012 55

War-Nead heaved up a star panel and wrapped it up tightly to the area of the blank matter, and saw to it that the ends were square, and that the space had been folded rightly.

He had been making walls for the newly zoned region of the Briny Sun and never stopped working because the Much-suh and such authorities made him; yet seeing Erntol Interstell approach, he layed to one side the great panel he held and waved to the friendly custodian.

They exchanged familiar words of greeting, then War-nead stretched his aching back and rubbed the swollen fingers with which, each day, he gripped at stars. His hands were the size of planetary systems; they carefully replaced the burnt-out suns.

Special From Our Own Correspondent
Submitted By Paul Deppler, 09 May 2008 | 2008 13

"At first, she was unable to read. To begin with she was bothered by the bustle and movement; then, when the train started moving, she could not help listening to the noises; then the snow that beat against the left-hand window and stuck to the glass, and the sight of a conductor passing by, all bundled up and covered with snow on one side, and the talk about the terrible blizzard outside, distracted her attention. Further on it was all the same; the same jolting and knocking, the same snow on the window, the same quick transitions from steaming heat to cold and back to heat, the same flashing of the same faces in the semi-darkness, and the same voices, and Anna began to read and understand what she was reading. Annushka was already dozing, holding the little red bag on her knees with her broad hands in their gloves, one of which was torn. Anna Arkadyevna read and understood, but it was unpleasant for her to read, that is, to follow the reflection of other people's lives. She wanted too much to live herself. When she read about the heroine of the novel taking care of a sick man, she wanted to walk with inaudible steps around the sick man's room; when she read about a Member of Parliament making a speech, she wanted to make that speech; when she read about how Lady Mary rode to hounds, teasing her sister-n-law and surprising everyone with her courage, she wanted to do it herself. But there was nothing to do, and so, fingering the smooth knife with her small hands, she forced herself to read."

~Anna Karenina. Book I, chapt. 29. Translation, Pevear/ Voloshonsky.

Special From Our Own Correspondent
Submitted By Paul Deppler, 08 May 2008 | 2311 25

Returned home to write a few more lines of this sort:

Erntol swept the thunder dust into his atomizer tray and touched up the sagging Tri Neb with an ad hoc smattering of star plaster and Bega chunks. Then the twin moons of Golgoth struck, sending their heat wave over the Naptha Jet: this signalled the “O’ Clock” and time for lunch...

Erntol then travels to a nearby planet for his favortie meal of Som-Soms and Quirtz, and it happens that this planet very nearly resembles the one we were discussing earlier: the people, though technologically advanced, are all hunting-and-gathering types and have no buildings at all save for a single mega complex where an abundance of foodstuffs and dry articles are stored. (It is a strange fact of the Erntol Universe that many planets are named after obscure historical personages, like the elementary schools in the U.S. today; and this one, called Hal Booker Davis, follows that pattern.) Sorry to say, several especially distrustful nomadic groups have lately banded together for the purpose of storming the mega complex, and this is to interpose a serious obstacle between Erntol and his Quirtz.

*
Now doing 'word work' and studying for a sort of food-preparer's exam, familiarizing myself with, for example, the proper internal temperature of beef... In idle shop moments, reading Joseph Campbell these days --his interview with Bill Moyers.

Special From Our Own Correspondent
Submitted By Paul Deppler, 08 May 2008 | 0101 09

Seem to have lost my way and am not sure what to attempt. Johnny North, as if sensing this, has recommended having a discussion in this forum of the movie Dead Man, which sounds really good, so I'm pencilling that in for May the 23rd, if that suits. No cajolery, but if anyone should wish to watch and talk about a movie around then, they're welcome to.

These lines from a William Blake poem occur in Dead Man, by the way:

Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born,
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.

Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.

(The movie's lead character is named William Blake. The full poem can be found here.)

Special From Our Own Correspondent
Submitted By holly, 07 May 2008 | 0909 13

read this today on the role of the mangrove in Myanmar area and the result of its disappearance.

Special From Our Own Correspondent
Submitted By Paul Deppler, 06 May 2008 | 2109 43

Can they find out, what it read. Is it somewhere, what I did. Is it hidden, I have touched. Is it PPPWET?

I'm Going to have to get her a new one. The Old man told me PPPWet. The old man told me: get in the box.

Old in the closet and old in the sweater box.. Old: was hit by an accident, never did I push.... never did I PUSH, DO I PUSH THE BOX! ....

Special From Our Own Correspondent
Submitted By Paul Deppler, 05 May 2008 | 0101 08

Then there's a deus ex machina type situation where a letter bomb arrives (blackberry enclosed) and in order to keep it from detonating Margrum has to type a message very quickly with the proper punctuation. Higgs takes the opportunity to lord his superior knowledgeableness over Margrum, not only pointing out each of the missing marks but giving the reason for each one and saying "apposition" quite a few times. Problem is that, even after the message has apparently been typed correctly, the bomb continues ticking and seems poised to go off. Higgs, apoplectic, insists "the bomb is wrong", but offers no further suggestions; so that Margrum is compelled to employ his reflexes once again: he throws the letter back in the box, puckishly lifts the delivery flag up, and tackles the fear-rooted Higgs into the safety of a nearby ditch.

It is unclear what lesson is to be drawn from this episode (had the message in fact been typed correctly? Will purveyors of authority ever be baffled by still great authorities?) yet Higgs' confidence in his ability to punctuate is, for a long time, shaken. "I was a fool to have been mad at you Margrum," he says, "I'd be lost without your erratic idiom." The other pats him friendily but doesn't speak. He's gazing wildly at the demolished box.

Special From Our Own Correspondent
Submitted By Paul Deppler, 03 May 2008 | 2311 20

What do you imagine Clinton was thinking about this?