Lounge Monkey

Today, I finally finished Alexandre Dumas’ 1844 classic “The Three Musketeers” (in English). I bought a copy of this book about 18 years ago and made a number of failed forays into the first chapter or two. Recently, I picked-up a better copy (I’m partial to hardcovers) and committed myself to seeing what all the fuss was about. It wasn’t hard. In fact, I’m not sure why I had so much trouble starting the book in the first place. Like all good adventure books, the story soon is pulling you along and before you know it, it’s over. Well, not completely over… There are two follow-up books to the d’Artagnan Romances (e.g., Twenty Years After, The Vicomte de Bragelonne) and three further stories (e.g., Ten Years Later, Louise de la Valliere, The Man in the Iron Mask) but I have too much else on my list before I even think about embarking on those.

The book itself was a strange blend of familiar characters involved in unfamiliar circumstances. I guess this shouldn’t be surprising having seen innumerable adaptations in cartoons, television, movies, abridged children’s books, etc. Anyone who has read a version of the story in elementary school should revisit the book again. I was expecting it to end with a huge mêlée between the King’s Musketeers and the Cardinal’s Guards, but nothing like that ever manifested. Maybe in a later book? Instead, the story tacks back and forth between a number of villainous characters before settling on one and pursuing that storyline to the finish. As I was coming to the end I began to seriously doubt how the story-lines could ever be wrapped-up in the number of pages left. There is a large and confusing cast of characters, all addressed as M. or Mme., Count this, Countess that… It wasn’t as bad as “Crime and Punishment” where everyone has three names that could be used interchangeably as the narrator saw fit, but it still took some reprogramming every time I put the book down for more than a day at a time. Whining aside, the book was a good deal of fun.

For those unfamiliar with the story (how is that even possible?!), the book revolves around three mysterious Musketeers (who have changed their names to escape their respective pasts) and a young Gascon swordsman who travels to Paris wishing to  join the Musketeer ranks. The story mostly follows d’Artagnan’s adventures, friendships, and romances. In the process he crosses swords and wits with a number of villains ranging from the the Countess de Winter, Cardinal Richelieu, and the Man from Meung while professing his love, honor, and service to every lady he meets (married or not… such is the French way?). Despite a wide network of characters, plots, intrigues, and twists the story wraps-up satisfactorily (which is amazing). I will read it again should I ever find the time.

“You are young,” replied Athos; “and your bitter recollections have time to change themselves into sweet remembrances.”

4.5 out of 5

Whenever I was sick enough to stay home from school, my mom would make me stay in bed all day. I used to take that opportunity to read through a pile of torn-up old 60s era comic books my uncle had left for us. Since that time, sick days (when I haven’t been delirious with fever) have been perfect for reading. Today was no different. After three days of fever, cold sweats, sleeplessness, coughing, sneezing, congestion, and chest aches, I started and finished Joe Haldeman’s 1977 book “All My Sins Remembered“. This happens to be the second Haldeman book I’ve read within the last year, the first being “The Forever War”. Both books struck the same chord in that having finished them, I had no clear idea how I feel about them. I liked them both, and yet…

“All My Sins Remembered” is about a self-avowed “Anglo-Buddhist” named Otto McGavin who is programmed to be a secret agent and undergoes a lifetime of multiple personality overlays and physical alterations for a secret organization known only as TBII (the initials are never explained). The book covers three of his life’s 35 missions and the terrible things his programming has enabled him to do. We’ve read (or more likely “seen”) plenty of stories about implanted memories and talents: 1969’s “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep” (Dick), 1987’s “When Gravity Fails” (Effinger), 1999’s “The Matrix” (Wachowski(s)), etc. All told, this one doesn’t stand out too far from the crowd. The story explores how the main character deals with the suppression of his own personality at the expense of his repeated missions, but you seldom get a sense of the underlying struggle (until the end). This is probably because parts of the book first appeared separately in Sci-Fi magazines in 1971, 1974, and 1977. While the alien worlds, cultures, and antagonists are interesting throughout, I wanted to care more about the main character. Upon finishing, I was left with an interesting story filled with interesting ideas tied together with a good ending and wondering why it wasn’t enough.

“Cold-blooded murderer of children, for hire. Well, maybe he had a good side. Kind to snakes or something.”

3.5 out of 5

While waiting for a call from the garage on the status of my Jeep, I finished the last pages of Truman Capote’s 1966 novel, “In Cold Blood“. The story was published the year before in the New Yorker, a magazine for people that can make it through 1000s of words of literary self-masturbation without falling dead asleep. I need purpose in the poems and stories that I read. I can’t stand wading through a traffic-jam of words only to find that the words themselves were the only purpose for the piece. Capote wrote for the New Yorker long before I ever picked-up a copy (and fell asleep on the toilet) and delivers from the very beginning. Four shotgun blasts ring out on page three. The rest of the book tries to explain why.

“In Cold Blood” is a collection of many stories woven together, each stemming from the interviews of those affected by the 1959 quadruple murder. Truman Capote and Harper Lee (of “To Kill a Mockingbird” fame) traveled to west Kansas to write an article on the Clutter family murders prior to the identification and capture of Perry Smith and Dick Hickock. The book outlines their subsequent incarcerations, trials, and sentencing. What sets this book apart is that Capote interviewed the murderers and was able to reconstruct their lives leading up to the night of November 15th and give insight into the minds of the condemned.

An interesting addendum to “In Cold Blood” are the criticisms of it. While the book has been lauded as a pioneer of True Crime stories, many have questioned the book’s veracity. Capote did not take notes or recordings during his interviews in Kansas, preferring instead to write quotes and summaries afterward (he claimed “over 90%” retention). There is also the question of whether Perry and Dick were in a homosexual relationship (some have suggested that Dick’s intentions to rape Nancy Clutter may have angered Perry and sparked the murders). Capote, a liberated homosexual himself, never addressed this in the book. His sympathetic handling of Perry’s character however has led some to believe that he developed a “fondness” for the young man awaiting the gallows. While these criticisms might pitch the balance from non-fiction to fiction, they do nothing to detract from the storytelling itself. A compelling book from start to finish.

“Then it was real quiet again. Except that dog. Old Andy, he danced a long time. They must have had a real mess to clean up…” “…The fact is, his heart kept beating for nineteen minutes.”

4 out of 5

Last night (at the request of a friend), I went to see Terry Gilliam’s new movie, “The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus” (2010). This movie will be long remembered as the last project that the late Heath Ledger worked on before his death by “accidental” prescription drug overdose. He actually died during the making of the movie, so some of his parts had to be completed by Johnny Depp, Jude Law (who I enjoyed in “Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow” (2004)), and Colin Farrel (who I liked in “In Bruges” (2008), and that’s about it). If it wasn’t for the tragedy and collaboration that followed, I think the movie would be shortly forgotten. As it is, it will probably be remembered only on Trivial Pursuit cards as: “What was Heath Ledger’s last movie?” to which everyone will answer, “Didn’t he play the Joker in The Dark Knight?” Do you see how I’m using my review to talk about other movies? Yeah, I just noticed that too…

About the movie. Ummm… What does it mean if I’m not sure what the movie is about? Let’s recap. Doctor Parnassus is an old man (like, Methuselah old) and rides around modern-day London with a small troupe of misfits putting on a sideshow. The sideshow isn’t particularly compelling, so most people just blow them off as kooks. Anyone who does accept an invite onto the stage is directed through a flimsy stage mirror and deposited into a fantastical world stemming from their imagination. The portal only works while Doctor Parnassus (an ancient monk) is on stage (or nearby) in a trance. Once in the fantasy world, the visitors are somehow “reborn” by this experience, exit the mirror on a giant swing, and happily give all their possessions to the traveling troupe. While all this is going on, Doctor Parnassus is trying to make good on a bargain he made with the Devil (played wonderfully by Tom Waits), who wants to claim his Betty Boop look-alike daughter Valentina upon her 16th birthday. That’s the set-up and we haven’t even got to Heath Ledger’s part… *deep breath* Heath’s character is initially an amnesiac that the troupe rescues from a hanging who (come to find out) is a great salesman, and is fine with being hanged so long as he’s swallowed a fife beforehand. He helps lure unsuspecting women onto stage to help Parnassus claim five souls per the bargain with the Devil. I think the only thing that Imaginarium and “The Adventures of Baron Munchausen” (1988) offer are evidence that Terry Gilliam has far better drugs than the rest of us. Did I mention that the movie includes dwarf-actor Verne Troyer dressed in a monkey outfit, talking smack about midgets?!

The Imaginarium is in many ways like the freak show it portrays. You’re drawn in by beautifully painted panels and tapestries, promises of mystery and magic (or a friend who really, really wants to see the movie), and you leave feeling like you’re $10.50 poorer with nothing to show for it.

“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night.”  – Edgar Allan Poe, because the movie wasn’t particularly quote-worthy

2 out of 5

When I was a kid, my father took us to see a movie called “Star Wars” (1977).  This was before it was renamed “…A New Hope” and re-imagined (Han shot first!) as part of a larger work. I remember being awestruck by the movie’s effects, everything from the light-sabers to the first time the rebel fighters opened their wings. Great movie. Years later, I had a similar experience with “Toy Story” (1995) and was amazed at what could be done with computer animation. Another great movie. Last Saturday, we went to see James Cameron’s new 3D movie “Avatar” (it’s funny how I can’t find time to write this stuff while on vacation). Here again is another benchmark movie. While Avatar does not deliver on the 3D holographic immersion long dreamed-of by movie-goers (it has always been just 10 years away), it is a definite step in the right direction.

Equipped with clunky polarized glasses, the audience is treated to the Roger Dean-esque 3D bioluminescent world of Pandora and its New Age eco-sensitive Blue Man Group aboriginals, the Na’vi. The parallels between the Na’vi and American Indians cannot be a mistake. Here we have a 10-foot extraterrestrial race that embodies everything that modern-day Indians tell us about themselves: one with the land, peaceful co-existence between tribes, etc. None of which is true, but it makes for good storytelling. The movie opens with a human corporation preparing to open Pandora’s Box by mining Na’vi sacred sites for a material dubbed Unobtanium (lame, lame, lame). The stone-age natives know something is up, but don’t realize the full breadth of their troubles until the Na’vi avatar of Sam Worthington (i.e., Jake Sully) shows them the light, wins the heart of Pocahontas (i.e., Neytiri), and leads the rebellion against the evil Earthers (all of which can be gleaned from the trailers). Comparisons of Avatar to “Dances With Wolves” (1990) are not off-the-mark. Despite its damning thematic proximity to the spirit of Kevin Costner, the movie is actually worth seeing (if only for the effects).

“Just relax and let your mind go blank. That shouldn’t be too hard for you.” – Dr. Grace Augustine to Jake Sully

4.5 out of 5

Today, I finished Charles Dickens’ 1843 novella “A Christmas Carol“. I was familiar with the story before picking up the book (you’d be hard-pressed finding a Christmas-celebrant who wasn’t familiar with the tale of Ebenezer Scrooge). The story is as much a part of the holiday as Christmas trees, exchanging gifts, and vain attempts at skirting family drama for 24 hours. The holiday was also a time to find myself parked in front of the television, wrapped in a robe and blanket, flipping through UHF channels looking for something to watch. If it wasn’t “A Christmas Carol” (1938), it was often “Miracle on 34th Street” (1947); for some reason, I never saw “It’s a Wonderful Life” (1946) until much, much later. I could have gone out and enjoyed the snow but I never liked it much. The snow  always ended up melting in my boots or (if my brother was around) getting stuffed into my hood and down the back of my coat. None of which has anything to do with the book. In later years, I discovered the Richard Donner adaptation “Scrooged” (starring Bill Murray). Who couldn’t like the thought of stapling antlers to the heads of mice in spirit of Christmas?!

For those who are not familiar with the tale (how is that possible?) the story revolves around an old miser who after several visitations from the spirit-world (or possibly just a restless night?), is imbued with the Christmas Spirit.  What is the Christmas Spirit? Well, to Dickens at least, it’s having mercy on his readers and writing a story that comes in under 150 pages. Other than that, old Ebenezer is forced to remember what people used to mean to him and how he let that all slip away. Even if you’re a bit of a humbug about the whole Christmas thing, this story has a great deal to offer about choices, consequences, and redemption. Who wouldn’t be changed and/or humbled by the sight of their own weed-choked grave?

So, what message did I take from my first reading of this story? Never let life stray far from the reason that life is worth living, friends and family. It’s a sentiment that makes me gag on the one hand (that would be the 12 year old boy inside me) and makes me sit in silent agony on the other, as my imagination conjures the graves of all I have ever loved: past, present, and future.

“You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There’s more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!” – Ebenezer Scrooge to Jacob Marley’s Ghost, Charles Dickens

5 out of 5

“Jesus is the reason for the season”. I saw this message on a bumper sticker the other morning while driving to work. The sticker included a silhouette of the nativity crèche, an image familiar to most Christians and anyone else who has passed by a church (or city hall) around Christmas time. I must admit, the bumper sticker made me laugh. The reason for the season has more to do with axial tilt and the earth reaching perihelion, but I get it… it’s a cute rhyme, quick message, and it sticks in your brain (it stuck in mine). Propaganda and disinformation have been bedfellows from way back. If you can’t support your position, lie about it… repeatedly.

“All propaganda has to be popular and has to accommodate itself to the comprehension of the least intelligent of those whom it seeks to reach” and “By the skillful and sustained use of propaganda, one can make a people see even heaven as hell or an extremely wretched life as paradise.” – Adolf Hitler, Christian <– see what I did there?

What bugs me most about Christianity (aside from the persecution complex) is the relentless campaign of misinformation. I use Christianity as an example, because it’s what I’m most familiar with… not because it’s any worse than the others. It’s also the most in-your-face religion that I encounter from day to day. Jews are only noticeable when they’re walking to the synagogue (doesn’t bother me a bit). Muslims don’t advertise in the United States for fear of attracting too much attention to themselves (no problems there). Hindus are pretty much invisible unless you spot their spots (it’s hard to find fault with vegetarians, more cows for the rest of us). But Christians stand on street-corners with 5-foot photos of aborted fetuses, stuff their holy books in hotel dressers (great coloring books btw), stand around in cemeteries with “God Hates Fags” signs, come to your door on Saturday mornings while your robe is hanging open and your hair is uncombed (“Are you guys here for my boxer-shorts check?”), keep shoving holy books under the hands of witnesses and elected officials (like a mass-produced piece of fiction is going to keep someone from lying? “I did not have sexual relations with that woman.“), erect 50-foot representations of torture devices (crosses) in roadside fields (would electric chairs be hanging in churches if Jesus had been put-to-death in the 1960s?)… I could on, but you get the idea. Everywhere I look, they are peddling a message created 2,000 years ago that they cannot defend because it’s indefensible (unless you count “faith” which could also support the divinity of Cookie Monster).

One response I’ve received is: “Do you really expect me to believe that the Church has been wrong for 2,000 years and that after all this time, you have the right answer?” No. The Christian church (and other religions, I have to imagine) haven’t been wrong at all. What they’ve done is perpetuated a convenient fiction, a lie… and they’re good at it. Priests are not dumb. Throughout history, priests have been some of the most educated people in the world (for centuries they controlled and throttled all learning in Europe). Many of them know the truth; they just have no reason to let you in on it. It’s like the De Beers diamond cartel. There is no shortage of shiny rocks but they have no reason on earth to release their choke-hold on supply. The Church is exactly the same, except that laborers aren’t smuggling Jesus out of South African mines in their asses. Christianity thrives off people believing what the Churches tell them. Today, it’s all about money. In the past, it was about money and power. These were powerful forces in ancient times and continue to be today. How powerful? They were powerful enough to create a religion that could fool and control the masses for thousands of years. Christianity wasn’t the first one and it won’t be the last.

“History is a set of lies agreed upon.” – Napoleon Bonaparte

“A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the People to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”

The United States of America are long overdue for a Second Revolution. It could be argued that the American Civil War was a revolution of sorts. Enough changed as a result of that war to support the claim (e.g., abolition of slavery, consolidated government). I’m not even sure whether a Second Revolution would require guns; I hope not because the way power is distributed today the People are at a clear disadvantage. While we claim to enjoy any number of  freedoms, the truth is that “We the People” have fastened a noose around our collective necks and handed the horse-whip to the government. This is not how it was supposed to be. We need to reclaim the ability to stand up for our rights, whether by ballot or barrel. If you think this is an extremist position then you should look into the mirror and introduce yourself to one of the brainwashed masses that have come to accept the current state as an acceptable substitute. Thomas Jefferson summed this up best when he wrote:

“When the people fear their government, there is tyranny; when the government fears the people, there is liberty.”

The second amendment to the Constitution states that citizens have an implicit right to own and bear firearms. This right was proposed by James Madison and later ratified by the 2nd United States Congress on December 15, 1791. While it is impossible to know with 100% certainty the intent and scope of this Second Amendment, the context is clear. Fifteen years earlier the Declaration of Independence stated:

“That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government”

The number of peaceful revolutions in history can be counted on one hand (well, okay… one hand of several people). We cannot hope to reclaim our lost freedoms if we cannot stand up against the police-state (discussed later). This is not to say that we should start fighting in the streets, absolutely not. The key is fear. The government should fear and respect its People. I have a good friend that once told me that the AR-15 is the legal modern-day equivalent of the 18th century musket. How do you think the government would react if every adult man and woman ordered one tomorrow? Would they sense a movement? Would there be a scramble for power? Would the government declare an emergency until they “got to the bottom of this problem”? You bet they would (conservatives and liberals alike).  No animal likes to be cornered and almost every politician in office today is a member of the same species. If everyone was armed, the revolution could take place and we wouldn’t even have to aim.  Sound too good to be true? Well, given today’s mentality that all true power should reside in the government’s hands… yes, it is too good to be true. We have castrated ourselves. It wasn’t one bloody cut though, it’s been hundreds of very small snips over hundreds of years. Most of us don’t even realize the boys are gone. We are much too complacent. If we don’t exercise our rights, we will lose them. We should never be content with the freedoms that remain but instead strive to reclaim those that were lost.

“After a shooting spree, they always want to take the guns away from the people who didn’t do it. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to live in a society where the only people allowed guns are the police and the military.” – William S. Boroughs

“Man’s inhumanity to man.” – Robert Burns, Man was Made to Mourn

The phrase itself is a cliché. But worse than that, it makes no sense. It implies that to be “humane” is to be human (i.e., infused with human-kindness). I would argue that history supports an opposite definition. As a species, our history is marked by murders, skirmishes, and wars. Recent centuries haven’t seen an emergence from this barbarity, it has instead handed us the tools to commit genocide. What does this say about us? Does it mean we’re “evil”? I don’t think so. I think it means that as a species we are afraid. We fear what we don’t understand. We fear those that are different from us. We fear for our children and our futures. These are reasonable feelings…to an extent. They cease being reasonable when intelligent people refuse to take the necessary steps to learn what they don’t understand. When people embrace fiction (and the institutions that support said fictions) instead of expending the necessary efforts to learn the truth, they set a course for disaster. So why does it happen over and over again? Because humans are not only fearful, they are lazy. I don’t mean to imply that people aren’t hard workers. To this day, farmers (or farmhands) get up before dawn every day to milk the cows. No, that’s not the problem (mostly). People are lazy in the sense that they are unwilling to think about problems when a simple (not necessarily accurate) answer is readily available (and supported by their community). A plausible fiction is often more appealing than a difficult truth, and definitely more desirable than no answer at all. Here then is the seed of most conflicts throughout history. One group creates an answer in lieu of learning the truth and another group invents a different answer. The arising institutions that  support these “findings” become entrenched and invested in their chosen fiction, and soon are willing to persecute and eventually kill non-believers to protect it. Look back across the pages of history. What you see are not wars over the truth; what you are seeing are thousands and millions of pointless deaths over competing fictions. Why would anyone be willing to give their life for stories told thousands of years ago by men who couldn’t take the time to learn: why the sun rose every morning, why the seasons changed, why there were countless species of animals, where we come from?

If that wasn’t bad enough, it gets worse. Over the centuries, reasonable people have emerged to challenge the fictions. Keep in mind, Ibn al-Haytham proposed the current scientific method in the 11th century, yet again and again, people willing to dispel the shadows of institutionalized disinformation have been persecuted and killed. Why? Fear. Not only are humans afraid but their institutions are as well. How corrupt must an institution be that places a higher value on fictions than taking the opportunity to move the world a little closer to illumination.

Fear and mental indolence are at the root of all these problems. If fear wasn’t so instinctual, it could even be argued that they are one in the same. Today, we are ruled by institutions that our forefathers erected to explain why we are here, why we are special, and how to get along with one another. The problem is that they are completely wrong. We will never shed light on any of those questions if we hold onto the old fictions. The sad part is that we’ve known what to do all along; we only have to think.

“The constant assertion of belief is an indication of fear.” – Jiddu Krishnamurti

This blog gives me a venue to express my opinions, observations, convictions, &c. I don’t use it to talk about particulars of my private life (I do that elsewhere). I don’t use it to attack people (there’s plenty of other sites for that…you know who you are!). I don’t use it to make money (that’s never been a motivating force for me). I don’t use it to draw attention to myself (zero subscribers and counting). This is simply a place to put into words “things that matter to Dennis”.

Today is Thanksgiving. We’re supposed to use this day to celebrate the fall harvest (Silver Queen corn and pumpkins maybe, everything else comes from Mexico) and express gratitude for all the good things that make our lives tolerable (I think I’m supposed to say “enjoyable”…). The past couple years have been particularly hard but because of close friends and family (I toyed with the order there, but had to settle on one), I’m emerging from a trying and turbulent time. I’m thankful to them for that. I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for the people around me (none of which read my blog apparently! damn them).

“We are here on earth to do good for others. What the others are here for, I don’t know.” – W. H. Auden