 |
| (Hat tip: Glenn) |
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 4, 2015
Sep 26, 2015
Philippines (3) --- taxis are for the faint-hearted --- connubial bliss
We've arrived in Baguio yesterday, and this morning we decide on a stroll through the city. Let's go to Mine's View, which is a neighborhood in the northwestern part known for it residential vibes and views. "You know where it is?" Chang ask as we are leaving the hotel. Michael, flapping his internet maps, answers in the affirmative.
Chang chokes on the traffic, the pollution, the noise (not shown). He covers his nose with the decollete of his T-shirt (as if this would help against the exhaust fumes). He then uncover's his nose and says: "Let's take a taxi."
 |
| We stride past a terminal for Jeepeneys (a taxi-bus hybrid)... |
 |
| and a construction site, where the construction crew reacts with loud cheers to Chang's photographic efforts. |
 |
| Otherwise, the first 15 minutes pass uneventfully, but then we get a repeat of yesterday. |
Chang chokes on the traffic, the pollution, the noise (not shown). He covers his nose with the decollete of his T-shirt (as if this would help against the exhaust fumes). He then uncover's his nose and says: "Let's take a taxi."
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 22, 2015
Philippines (1)
 |
| Note the dress code; background is the Thuner Lake (in Switzerland) we haven't even arrived in Zurich. |
Sep 20, 2015
Zurich Airport (reposted)
(This post was posted first in May 2012, when we were on our way to Thailand. Now we're heading for Baguio, in the Philippines, but again we're staying over for the night in Kloten, the town next to Zurich's airport. Little has changed in the meantime:)
Why Zurich, why zee airport? Well, we are en route to Thailand, and the plane will leave the next morning at 11:25am, and the counter will close 2 hours prior to departure, the website kindly informs us, and we would risk missing the plane if we take the early train from Visp, in the Valais, where we've started our summer sojourn in Switzerland, as we've vacated our house for the summer rentals. So we come a day early, and will spend the night in an airport hotel. And it's the Welcome Inn, located in Kloten, the suburb that gave the airport its name.
The receptionist looks stressed. She asks for our passport, then speaks Dutch (we have Dutch passports), asking whether we could speak Dutch. Sure, I reply in German. She looks stressed-er. We are handed the keys, and I like the room, especially the bed covers, and have a nap. I meet her (the receptionist) again in my dreams, and a theory develops. She's so stressed, I theorize, because "kloten" means "balls" in Dutch, and she was possibly raised by seven dominant sisters, who are all married now, and always ask her to explain to the nieces and nephews why she, the lonely spinster, works in Kloten, of all places. Dutch humor, I know it so well.
Anyhow, when I return to the reception area after my nap, the camera ready, she eyes me suspiciously. Can I take a picture, I ask kindly in Dutch. It does not help. Yes, she replies, and flees the scene to hide behind a pillar that the architect must have put in place for that purpose. Here's the result:
Stay tuned.
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 12, 2015
A cheap motel for intercourse with a near stranger --- This is heaven --- fragment
Our friend Glenn sends this picture...
...while we are writing Chapter 28 about John and Taylor making out in a hotel room...so we simply had to post this post. There's a lot of sex in the chapter that we omit...some of the text overlaps with recent posts, apologies...what we are trying to do, give you an impression of the entire seduction sequence...seduction isn't possibly the right word, defloration might be a better word...although we're doing a bit more than just defloring Taylor who has just turned 18...
For more context go here, or here.
So we’ve been set free, and are now walking past the row of nervous aspen trees lining the Davis Canal, heading north in the direction of Georgia Avenue. We feel a bit experimental, both of us (I guess), so we make conversation that’s not centered on what happens between horny males in overheated bathrooms and decrepit trailers, or whether it’s accidental or providential (what happens there).
Still, as you might imagine, it’s on my mind whether there’s a follow-up to this, a Taylor-closure, as it were, some full sexual act with this youth played out in some convenient location, like, say, my bedroom---which would be the least convenient location in all of Georgia Beach with Maurice and Ben and everybody else around. Taylor doesn’t know about Maurice and Ben, of course, although he’s possibly assuming that Alex could be a roadblock, the only person who isn’t available as a roadblock at this juncture, sadly. Perhaps we could apply my overcharged credit cards to the reservation roster of the Lupo di Mare, the hotel-restaurant around the corner, or consider the Atlantic Sands Hotel, where we would bump into a wisened Juliette who’d figure us out immediately, the way providence (and female instinct) works.
We’re about to reach the corner of Canal Street and Georgia Avenue. We would have to turn left here (and then left again) to get to my apartment with its bed chamber and other ingredients of supposed privacy, or turn right in the downtown direction and return to the Surfside Field, supposedly. Another round of green-room sex is out of the question, of course, not to mention trailers and police tape. We’ve painted us into a corner. Where do we go from here?
“Where do we go from here?” I ask (one of my better lines today).
“You go home now?” he asks.
 |
| Question: wouldn't "intercourse with a perfect stranger" be much funnier? |
...while we are writing Chapter 28 about John and Taylor making out in a hotel room...so we simply had to post this post. There's a lot of sex in the chapter that we omit...some of the text overlaps with recent posts, apologies...what we are trying to do, give you an impression of the entire seduction sequence...seduction isn't possibly the right word, defloration might be a better word...although we're doing a bit more than just defloring Taylor who has just turned 18...
For more context go here, or here.
So we’ve been set free, and are now walking past the row of nervous aspen trees lining the Davis Canal, heading north in the direction of Georgia Avenue. We feel a bit experimental, both of us (I guess), so we make conversation that’s not centered on what happens between horny males in overheated bathrooms and decrepit trailers, or whether it’s accidental or providential (what happens there).
Still, as you might imagine, it’s on my mind whether there’s a follow-up to this, a Taylor-closure, as it were, some full sexual act with this youth played out in some convenient location, like, say, my bedroom---which would be the least convenient location in all of Georgia Beach with Maurice and Ben and everybody else around. Taylor doesn’t know about Maurice and Ben, of course, although he’s possibly assuming that Alex could be a roadblock, the only person who isn’t available as a roadblock at this juncture, sadly. Perhaps we could apply my overcharged credit cards to the reservation roster of the Lupo di Mare, the hotel-restaurant around the corner, or consider the Atlantic Sands Hotel, where we would bump into a wisened Juliette who’d figure us out immediately, the way providence (and female instinct) works.
 |
| A propos roadblocks |
We’re about to reach the corner of Canal Street and Georgia Avenue. We would have to turn left here (and then left again) to get to my apartment with its bed chamber and other ingredients of supposed privacy, or turn right in the downtown direction and return to the Surfside Field, supposedly. Another round of green-room sex is out of the question, of course, not to mention trailers and police tape. We’ve painted us into a corner. Where do we go from here?
“Where do we go from here?” I ask (one of my better lines today).
“You go home now?” he asks.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 10, 2015
John Dunno of Wichita Falls --- This is heaven --- teaser (3)
Tee time for Teaser 3 of This Is Heaven, the sequel to the GREEN EYES. It's short and sweet, this teaser, true balm for our challenged attention spans.
(The Happy Ending Is over now, is the title of the second (ie. the first) chapter, and John will know it. He's picking himself up, dusting himself off after yet another morning triangle in the gay dunes, and the plot thickens already. John is with Alex of course---so much is still left of the happy ending (go here for the previous teaser)---but in the meantime Ben has called, the other guy John met last week, and Alex was all-ear. "What was Ben's last name?" Alex has just asked:)
(The Happy Ending Is over now, is the title of the second (ie. the first) chapter, and John will know it. He's picking himself up, dusting himself off after yet another morning triangle in the gay dunes, and the plot thickens already. John is with Alex of course---so much is still left of the happy ending (go here for the previous teaser)---but in the meantime Ben has called, the other guy John met last week, and Alex was all-ear. "What was Ben's last name?" Alex has just asked:)
“Ben is his pet name,” I say.
“He has a real name?”
“John.”
“Ben is John. Cool. John and John. Could be a bit confusing, though. Glad his real name isn’t Alex. You sure?”
“How do you mean?”
“Alex. He’s not another Alex. You sure?”
“Yes.”
“And his last name?”
“Dunno,” I lie.
“John Dunno, funny.”
“It’s not Dunno. It’s ‘I-don’t-know’.”
“How do you know it’s not ‘Dunno’ if you don’t know?”
“I mean,” I say.
“John Dunno of Witchita Falls, Texas. Not likely I would know the guy.”
“Yes.”
“Not likely you would know the guy.”
Is he playing with me? Will he be always like this? It’s not too late to explain. I could have met Ben a few weeks ago, days, eons before I met Alex. Met him a few weeks ago, introduced him to Luke, Luke needs a hand for the festival. Ben has my number, of course he calls. Explain, John, explain.
“He has a real name?”
“John.”
“Ben is John. Cool. John and John. Could be a bit confusing, though. Glad his real name isn’t Alex. You sure?”
“How do you mean?”
“Alex. He’s not another Alex. You sure?”
“Yes.”
“And his last name?”
“Dunno,” I lie.
“John Dunno, funny.”
“It’s not Dunno. It’s ‘I-don’t-know’.”
“How do you know it’s not ‘Dunno’ if you don’t know?”
“I mean,” I say.
“John Dunno of Witchita Falls, Texas. Not likely I would know the guy.”
“Yes.”
“Not likely you would know the guy.”
 |
| John Dunno of Wichita Falls, Texas |
Is he playing with me? Will he be always like this? It’s not too late to explain. I could have met Ben a few weeks ago, days, eons before I met Alex. Met him a few weeks ago, introduced him to Luke, Luke needs a hand for the festival. Ben has my number, of course he calls. Explain, John, explain.
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 4, 2015
Look at it this way---how to make it to fame inside less than a week?
 |
| Kim Davis, County Clerk, Rowan County, Kentucky |
(PS:)
Aug 31, 2015
The Donald, Paul Krugman, and the GREEN EYES
I.
 |
| "Scroll down" |
II.
You've possibly had a chance already to notice that the GREEN EYES are about more than gay sex or romance. Worse, they are mostly about everything else. And so they are also about the Republican Base (e.g., John's father (John---the narrator of the GREEN EYES)), or about Paul Krugman, the Nobel laureate and New York Times columnist. But since we are the GREEN EYES, our most pressing concerns are frivolous. So we wonder "What is Paul Krugman's penis size?" (that's actually the title of Chapter 38).
You need to know?
So, here's a fragment from Chapter 38 (John has an appointment with Trevor Howard, the assistant DA whom he is trying to convince that something needs to be done about Dick Benson, the resident murder-psychopath of the piece; John is also thinking about starting an escort service, and so on):
III.
I see two tables being cleared next to the central window on the street side, very good tables indeed, when I notice two people to my left, who have replaced the beefy guy. I’ve seen the face of the man before, on my blog, actually. We’re famous in Georgia Beach, seriously, folks. Will I tell Trevor? You think Trevor would be interested in politics, or the New York Times, or economics, or Nobel prizes? Possibly not—you have other problems when you’re a confirmed bachelor without a future. Trevor, who must be looking right into the eyes of Paul Krugman behind me, shows no signs of recognition what-so-ever. It’s crystal-clear, he’s not attracted to the fifty-nine year old Nobel laureate.
Aug 29, 2015
"Hi Sunshine" --- This is heaven --- teaser (2)
Part I of the GREEN EYES is out, and so we've started a rerun of what we got of Part II so far. We have ca 60% of the text, but there are some problems with the plotting, how the various story lines of this soap opera will come together...
...The Happy Ending Is over now, is the title of the second (ie. the first) chapter, and John will know it. He's picking himself up, dusting himself off after yet another morning triangle in the gay dunes, and the plot thickens already. John is with Alex of course---so much is still left of the happy ending (go here for the previous teaser)---but now Ben is calling, the other guy John met last week:
...The Happy Ending Is over now, is the title of the second (ie. the first) chapter, and John will know it. He's picking himself up, dusting himself off after yet another morning triangle in the gay dunes, and the plot thickens already. John is with Alex of course---so much is still left of the happy ending (go here for the previous teaser)---but now Ben is calling, the other guy John met last week:
My cell rings.
“Hi, Sunshine,” a male black voice speaks into my right ear. It’s the ear next to Alex’s left ear. I’d almost forgotten about Ben. Well, no, I didn’t forget, I've been too busy. ‘Sunshine?’ I think.
“This is me. Can you hear me?” Ben says. I can hear him loud and clear. Perhaps I should lower the sound. Where’s the button? I hate my cell-phone.
“This is me. Can you hear me?” Ben repeats. Alex softens his grip.
“Yes,” I answer, the phone now on my left ear.
“John?” Ben asks, or retreats.
“Yes,” I say.
I should say ‘Ben’ now, or ‘Hi Ben,’ or ‘Is that you, Ben,’ mention his name at least (his name is “John,” by the way, like mine, Ben is his pet name).
“Is that you,” I say.
“John,” Ben answers, the voice more relaxed.
“Yes,” I say.
“Where are you?”
“On the beach, more or less.”
“All by yourself?”
“With a friend,” I say.
“Cool,” Ben says, “you know what?”
“No.”
“Hi, Sunshine,” a male black voice speaks into my right ear. It’s the ear next to Alex’s left ear. I’d almost forgotten about Ben. Well, no, I didn’t forget, I've been too busy. ‘Sunshine?’ I think.
“This is me. Can you hear me?” Ben says. I can hear him loud and clear. Perhaps I should lower the sound. Where’s the button? I hate my cell-phone.
“This is me. Can you hear me?” Ben repeats. Alex softens his grip.
“Yes,” I answer, the phone now on my left ear.
“John?” Ben asks, or retreats.
“Yes,” I say.
I should say ‘Ben’ now, or ‘Hi Ben,’ or ‘Is that you, Ben,’ mention his name at least (his name is “John,” by the way, like mine, Ben is his pet name).
“Is that you,” I say.
“John,” Ben answers, the voice more relaxed.
“Yes,” I say.
“Where are you?”
“On the beach, more or less.”
“All by yourself?”
“With a friend,” I say.
“Cool,” Ben says, “you know what?”
“No.”
Aug 27, 2015
The Bietschhorn this morning
It's almost 4,000 meter high, the Bietschhorn, but not quite. A full 4k would attract too much tourism, and our quiet little place would degenerate into a second Zermatt.
Aug 24, 2015
The happy ending is over now --- This is heaven --- teaser (1)
Part I of the GREEN EYES is out, and so we are starting with a rerun of what we got of Part II so far. We have ca 60% of the text, but there are some problems with the plotting, how the various story lines of this soap opera will come together...
Anyhow, PART II ("This is heaven") resumes the thread where Part I dropped it, in the dunes of the gay beach of Georgia Beach. "I'm ticklish," Albert the beach bear had said in the last line of Part I, and the consequence is an unprintable chapter of yet another triangle in the dunes. So we repeat the trick of Part I, replace the first chapter by a short prologue, and find ourselves in our habitual, post-coital position: we are trying to go home. "We," that's Alex and John, of course, and one thing you need to know about Alex: he labored under a clinical depression in his former life. There was a suicide attempt (on Thursday last week). Alex recovered, but with serious amnesia. He lost the memory of his depression, but also the memory of his sexual orientation (the left column provides an introduction to the main characters of the GREEN EYES)...
Anyhow, PART II ("This is heaven") resumes the thread where Part I dropped it, in the dunes of the gay beach of Georgia Beach. "I'm ticklish," Albert the beach bear had said in the last line of Part I, and the consequence is an unprintable chapter of yet another triangle in the dunes. So we repeat the trick of Part I, replace the first chapter by a short prologue, and find ourselves in our habitual, post-coital position: we are trying to go home. "We," that's Alex and John, of course, and one thing you need to know about Alex: he labored under a clinical depression in his former life. There was a suicide attempt (on Thursday last week). Alex recovered, but with serious amnesia. He lost the memory of his depression, but also the memory of his sexual orientation (the left column provides an introduction to the main characters of the GREEN EYES)...
Let me think. ‘The happy ending is over now,’ I think. I look askance at Alex’s rippled abs (he’s still holding the T-shirt in his hand, it’s sizzling hot already, we’re oiled in sweat), let my eyes travel to his pelvis region, then back up along the lithe, sleekly muscled torso, the strong neck, the clear, boyish profile. He has grown an inch or two since his failed suicide. He feels my eyes on his Latino skin, I know.
 |
| The gay beach of Rehoboth Beach, DE, the model for Georgia Beach |
“The happy ending is over now,” I say after a while.
“Don’t say that,” he replies, “Happy endings can’t
end.”
“I wish it were true.”
“It is true. It’s true for the best of all possibly
reasons.”
“I’d settle for any reason at this moment.”
“The power of subsumption.”
“Huh?”
“Happy endings can’t end since endings ended already.
They are part and parcel of endings in general.”
“Sheer semantics,” I say.
“Exactly,” he says, “sheer semantics. Rooted in
meaning of the word ‘end’.”
“Well, you know what I mean.”
“Okay,” he says and puts his arm around my shoulder. He’s
conceding the point. For once.
Well, no. “The power of subsumption,” he regroups, rolls his head, and gives me this new look with his emerald eyes, the bad-boy-post-felo-de-se-look that signals the defeat of his depression.
Aug 19, 2015
A brief note on homosexuality
We haven't studied this, of course, not in a serious way, but when you are standing with one leg in the classical-antique period, as we did for a while, working on Plato's Symposium or studying Hadrian's life, you can't help but observe that the classical attitude vis à vis homosexuality was very different, very different from the attitudes my generation grew up with during the latter part of the last century. Not only attitudes, in fact, but facts, or perceived facts. The perceived facts were that there's a fairly sharp divide between gay and straight behavior, separating anything between 90-95% of the population from the rest---the overwhelming majority being straight, a small minority being gay or lesbian, with a few bisexuals in between.
Antiquity wasn't like this at all. There wasn't a single male deity in the Greek Pantheon that's wasn't bisexual, for example. Out of the first fifteen Roman emperors 14 "made" (to put it in Gibbon's words) "incorrect sexual choices," (at least according to the author of Decline and Fall...). Etc.
 |
| "What I believe," (1947) Paul Cadmus |
We are not the first to observe this, and helpful theories in re have been proffered for quite some time, the dominant ones putting the onus on Christianity. How these theories will fare in the future remains to be seen, there's some historical research now showing that gay marriage was tolerated during Roman times and accommodated by the Christian Church (one of the funny things in the debate about gay marriage is that practically everybody making historical claims (i.e., the conservatives) is ignoring the fact that the institution didn't require sacral input then. Marriage was a matter of private contracts, and it took the Roman law quite some time to adapt to the Judaeo-Christian claims as to its sanctity (marriage still is, in Islam, a private affair). Anyhow, with the advent of Christianity, the screws on sexuality started to tighten, which wasn't particularly helpful for the gay cause.)
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 15, 2015
Quantitative metaphysics --- scribble, scribble, scribble, Mr. Ampersant (4) (reposted)
The GREEN EYES (Part I) have finally been published, and we are starting to re-post earlier material regarding the book. Find underneath the Amazon link...
We knew beforehand that This Is Heaven (the sequel to the Green Eyes) wouldn't be a picnic, because marketing has replaced logic at all levels. Yes, that's what This Is Heaven is all about. It's about bullshit, or, more precisely, about the substitution of bullshit for other residues of meaning left on this planet. John with his addiction to Alex, Alex with his humongous dick, Godehart with his crotch shorts? It's all very well, we're not lying on anything, but it's just a ploy to keep your attention span spun while we are milking Professor Barbette Bienpensant and her Armageddon-nonsense, or taking cheap digs at vampire crazes, or the Wall Street Journal, or FOX news, or...
 |
| Barbette Bienpensant, professor of quantitative metaphysics |
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 7, 2015
There you sit and munch on your pen --- The Donald, reality, and so on
Yere you sit and munch on your pen and try to think up something funny, something hilarious---it doesn't matter, reality will always beat you. Here's a fragment from The New Yorker about last night's Republican primary debate:
Trump did make it clear that, if Trump were the nominee of the Republican Party, he would support Trump. The debate opened with a call for candidates to raise their hands if they couldn’t commit to supporting whomever the Republican nominee might be and who might consider running as an independent. It yielded what was, no doubt, the intended result: Trump, stage center, standing alone, hand raised, wondering why he should “respect” anyone given his position in the race. (“I’m, you know, talking about a lot of leverage.”)
Maybe that’s when he decided that the moderators didn’t like him. Megyn Kelly asked about his tendency toward misogynistic insults: “You’ve called women you don’t like ‘fat pigs,’ ‘dogs,’ ‘slobs,’ and ‘disgusting animals.’ ” Trump interrupted to say that it was “only Rosie O’Donnell”—an unparalleled moment in drive-by ad-hominem debate attacks. But O’Donnell (who tweeted, “try explaining that 2 ur kids”) wasn’t the woman in front of him, and so, after barking something about political correctness, he said, “And honestly, Megyn, if you don’t like it, I’m sorry. I’ve been very nice to you, although I could probably maybe not be, based on the way you have treated me.”
Trump did make it clear that, if Trump were the nominee of the Republican Party, he would support Trump. The debate opened with a call for candidates to raise their hands if they couldn’t commit to supporting whomever the Republican nominee might be and who might consider running as an independent. It yielded what was, no doubt, the intended result: Trump, stage center, standing alone, hand raised, wondering why he should “respect” anyone given his position in the race. (“I’m, you know, talking about a lot of leverage.”)
Maybe that’s when he decided that the moderators didn’t like him. Megyn Kelly asked about his tendency toward misogynistic insults: “You’ve called women you don’t like ‘fat pigs,’ ‘dogs,’ ‘slobs,’ and ‘disgusting animals.’ ” Trump interrupted to say that it was “only Rosie O’Donnell”—an unparalleled moment in drive-by ad-hominem debate attacks. But O’Donnell (who tweeted, “try explaining that 2 ur kids”) wasn’t the woman in front of him, and so, after barking something about political correctness, he said, “And honestly, Megyn, if you don’t like it, I’m sorry. I’ve been very nice to you, although I could probably maybe not be, based on the way you have treated me.”
Aug 6, 2015
I work in PR --- Tristan Verran
ANGRY WOMAN AT HOLLAND PARK TUBE: - 'I work in PR and, like, sometimes I have to work weekends, like, I mean, I wouldn't go on strike. I think it's just, like, sOOOOOOooo selfish!"
ME: "That's because if you went on strike nobody would care..."
ANGRY WOMAN AT HOLLAND PARK TUBE: - "Actually, I play, like, a pivotal role in cosmetic marketing, so, like, yeah..."
ME: "HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH!"
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 23, 2015
Phaedrus in the Symposium
This is the Phaedrus part of our version of the Symposium, which we put up here temporarily (we'll explain later):
(Phaedrus)
Panel 2:
PH, in upper corner (half-stylized?),
blending into the next panel
PH: Eros is a great and
wonderful god…
Panel 3:
Chaos as background, Gaia
rising, Eros hovering overhead
Pictures
PH (cut into the panel, speechifying (arms raised)): Eros is a great
and wonderful god, for he is one of the oldest gods. Hesiod says that Chaos
came first---followed by Gaia, and Eros…
CAPTION (bottom): Hesiod
goes on: “…who is the most beautiful among the immortal gods. He is the
dissolver of care, he who overpowers the mind and the thoughtful council of
gods and humans alike.”
Panel 4:
Dark background, PH stylized
(black and white), holding on to a canted erastes-eromenos scene that borders
into the next panel.
PH: Eros is also the source
of the greatest benefits. I know of no greater blessing for a young man than to
have a good lover, and for a lover, to have a beloved.
Jul 16, 2015
The Green Eyes (Part I) will be published by Lust Spiel Books in late September
 |
| Making last changes to the manuscript |
PS: It's now available as Kindle Book under this link:
Jul 14, 2015
The analysis of the psycho
This is just for the record. There's a new neologism, finally, sort-of, and we need to justify it by a fragment, yes, a fragment of some text where it appears, the neologism.
And here it is. Michael answered a anthology call for Jules Verne fan fiction with an erotic twist----nothing to do with the Green Eyes, so far, but he'll somehow manage that the
And here it is. Michael answered a anthology call for Jules Verne fan fiction with an erotic twist----nothing to do with the Green Eyes, so far, but he'll somehow manage that the
Analysis of the Psycho
will somehow appear on the pages of a forthcoming installment of the Green Eyes.
For the time being, however, you have to do with a few paragraphs from our short story The Darker Side of Lunar Engineering.
Here goes:
(Hold on, let's explain...The call was for Jules Verne fan fiction with an erotic twist. So we're in Jules Verne's From the Earth to the Moon, and one of the main characters of that story, Michel Ardan, sets the record straight:)
(Hold on, let's explain...The call was for Jules Verne fan fiction with an erotic twist. So we're in Jules Verne's From the Earth to the Moon, and one of the main characters of that story, Michel Ardan, sets the record straight:)
(Hold on, Michel Ardan managed to happen upon Dr. Sigmund Freud in the meantime, whom he has invited to Haussner's, a historic Baltimore restaurant (now closed), in the vicinity of the Baltimore Gun Club, the originator of the plan of a lunar voyage:)
We walked the twenty minutes to the restaurant, Freud
still holding on to the pointer, and when we arrived thither he knew everything
about my mother, father, penis, gardener Hérault, Hérault’s penis, and (my) refractory
period (the minimal lapse time between two male ejaculations—Freud made
appreciative noises).
“What is your problem, then,” he asked while we were
being seated (he had deposited the pointer in the corner) at yesterday’s table
below Franklin’s portrait. “You have no need for sexual amnesty.” So I
explained about my crush on Barbicane—the flood-gates were open anyhow—interrupting
myself only when the waiter approached or the lady at the next table adjusted
her ear trumpet (which was often). During those intervals I learned that Freud
had traveled hither in the footsteps of Oscar Wilde, the Irish poet who had
built his career on the notoriety afforded him by a lecture tour across the New
World. “I want to make a name for myself,” Freud said, “I have designs for a revolutionary
theory of the human psyche based on sexuality. They are on the drawing board, my
plans, but one day they shall bloom, and the analysis of the psycho shall rule
the world.” As he said this his stare rose to the Franklin above us, and—you
guessed right—the founding father returned the attention, impatient lips
softening, eyes smiling, head cocking a bit. He even managed to effect a minor
toss with his bad-hair-day hair, Franklin, I swear.
Freud, unimpressed, lowered his gaze back to me and
resumed the conversation. “I am still in the exploratory phase of my work, but
I can advise you that sexuality is not only fundamental, it is also malleable. The
sex drive, libido I call it, is best
compared to hunger, a faceless urge that will consume anything and everything
when starved, like a ravenous beast. A ravenous beast.”
“We have supped well,” Freud continued after an
introspective pause—his stare now directed at the empty plates of the afters
course—“but we have not”—the stare wandering to the pointer in the corner
which, under his attention, appeared to grow in girth and size—“we have not
fucked for hours. Would you not say?”
I motioned the waiter and settled the bill.
Jul 12, 2015
Why Conservatives are wrong --- because they are always wrong (2)
Let's not forget:
For anybody born after 1970: this was a Southern Lynch Brigade in full armor.
And, yes, God's word worked to protect them (we quote):
"After two non-consecutive terms as governor, Bilbo won a U.S. Senate seat campaigning against “farmer murderers, corrupters of Southern womanhood, [skunks] who steal Gideon Bibles from hotel rooms” and a host of other, equally colorful foes. In a year where just 47 Mississippi voters cast a ballot for a communist candidate, Bilbo railed against a looming communist takeover of the state — and offered himself up as the solution to this red onslaught.
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| Ku Klux Klan |
For anybody born after 1970: this was a Southern Lynch Brigade in full armor.
And, yes, God's word worked to protect them (we quote):
"After two non-consecutive terms as governor, Bilbo won a U.S. Senate seat campaigning against “farmer murderers, corrupters of Southern womanhood, [skunks] who steal Gideon Bibles from hotel rooms” and a host of other, equally colorful foes. In a year where just 47 Mississippi voters cast a ballot for a communist candidate, Bilbo railed against a looming communist takeover of the state — and offered himself up as the solution to this red onslaught.
Spot the difference --- Plato's Symposium (3)
By popular demand: here's the next painting, one that's spot on when it comes to Plato's Symposium. It's by Raphael and depicts The School of Athens, i.e., Plato's Academy, the first university in the world.
Jul 11, 2015
Jun 30, 2015
"How I tried to seduce Socrates" --- Plato's Symposium (1)
Michael is working on the text side of a comic strip/graphic novel about Plato's Symposium. Yes, the philosopher, and, yes, the canonical text on male homosexuality since more than 2,000 years.
Not easy, actually, the work. You have to condense the text ruthlessly (19 k words in English translations) and somehow maintain authenticity. Deep thoughts are occasionally expressed and need to be conveyed---the text also provides, ironically, the basis (or pretext) for the Renaissance-idea of Platonic love.
You know about the Symposium ("banquet"), right? A choice of Athenian characters---including Aristophanes (the leading antique writer of comedy), Agathon (a writer of tragedies) Alcibiades (the city's leading bad boy cum politician at the time), and Socrates---gather to celebrate Agathon's victory in the drama competition of 416 BC two days ago. They had partied all night the previous day, they are laboring under a serious hangover, and somebody thinks it would be wise to drink less. How do you do that? Eryximachus, the attending physician, has the idea that you should praise Eros; everybody should give and encomium about the God of Love. And so they do.
Here's our condensed rendering of the arrival of Alcibiades, Socrates is about to finish his speech (this is done per panel, so the same speaker may appear sequentially):
Not easy, actually, the work. You have to condense the text ruthlessly (19 k words in English translations) and somehow maintain authenticity. Deep thoughts are occasionally expressed and need to be conveyed---the text also provides, ironically, the basis (or pretext) for the Renaissance-idea of Platonic love.
You know about the Symposium ("banquet"), right? A choice of Athenian characters---including Aristophanes (the leading antique writer of comedy), Agathon (a writer of tragedies) Alcibiades (the city's leading bad boy cum politician at the time), and Socrates---gather to celebrate Agathon's victory in the drama competition of 416 BC two days ago. They had partied all night the previous day, they are laboring under a serious hangover, and somebody thinks it would be wise to drink less. How do you do that? Eryximachus, the attending physician, has the idea that you should praise Eros; everybody should give and encomium about the God of Love. And so they do.
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| Anselm Feuerbach: Alcibiades arrives at the banquet, Agathon welcoming him (click for a larger image, please) |
Here's our condensed rendering of the arrival of Alcibiades, Socrates is about to finish his speech (this is done per panel, so the same speaker may appear sequentially):
Socrates: This is what I wanted to say, O Phaedrus; call it an encomium of love, or anything else. (Applause)
Aristophanes gets up, wants to say something, is interrupted by…
WHERE IS AGATHON! (Big EXPANDING letters (voice)):
Alcibiades (appears in door): Hail friends.
Alcibiades: I’m excessively drunk already, but I’ll drink with you, if you will.
Alcibiades (removing ribands from his hair fillet): If not, I’ll leave after I crowned Agathon, for which purpose I came.
(Everybody): Stay, stay.
Aristophanes gets up, wants to say something, is interrupted by…
WHERE IS AGATHON! (Big EXPANDING letters (voice)):
Alcibiades (appears in door): Hail friends.
Alcibiades: I’m excessively drunk already, but I’ll drink with you, if you will.
Alcibiades (removing ribands from his hair fillet): If not, I’ll leave after I crowned Agathon, for which purpose I came.
(Everybody): Stay, stay.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 26, 2015
Why conservatives are wrong...
...because they are always wrong.
Viz:
Dred Scott v. Sandford, 60 U.S. 393 (1857) People of African descent that are slaves or were slaves and subsequently freed, along with their descendants, cannot be United States citizens. Consequently, they cannot sue in federal court. Also, slavery cannot be outlawed in the western territories before they access statehood.
Which side do you think the Conservatives took?
Plessy v. Ferguson, 163 U.S. 537 (1896) Segregated facilities for blacks and whites are constitutional under the doctrine of separate but equal.
Which side do you think the Conservatives took?
Self-explanatory
And here are a few words from today's decision, composed by Justice Anthony Kennedy:
"No union is more profound than marriage, for it embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and family. In forming a marital union, two people become something greater than once they were. As some of the petitioners in these cases demonstrate, marriage embodies a love that may endure even past death. It would misunderstand these men and women to say they disrespect the idea of marriage. Their plea is that they do respect it, respect it so deeply that they seek to find its fulfillment for themselves. Their hope is not to be condemned to live in loneliness, excluded from one of civilization’s oldest institutions. They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right."
"From their beginning to their most recent page, the annals of human history reveal the transcendent importance of marriage. The lifelong union of a man and a woman always has promised nobility and dignity to all persons, without regard to their station in life. Marriage is sacred to those who live by their religions and offers unique fulfillment to those who find meaning in the secular realm. Its dynamic allows two people to find a life that could not be found alone, for a marriage becomes greater than just the two persons. Rising from the most basic human needs, marriage is essential to our most profound hopes and aspirations."
"The nature of injustice is that we may not always see it in our own times. The generations that wrote and ratified the Bill of Rights and the Fourteenth Amendment did not presume to know the extent of freedom in all of its dimensions, and so they entrusted to future generations a charter protecting the right of all persons to enjoy liberty as we learn its meaning. When new insight reveals discord between the Constitution’s central protections and a received legal stricture, a claim to liberty must be addressed."
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 11, 2015
Christopher Lee (1922 - 2015)
(This is a deep post in a literal sense, so don't hesitate to scroll down:)
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| “To be a legend, you’ve either got to be dead or excessively old!” |
Anything the Green Eyes have to add to this? They usually do. So, just for starters, John's last name, Lee, is not a coincidence, as we'll learn early on in Part II ("This is heaven"):
(Chapter 3, John narrating): Let me get this in before the plot thickens: it’s a good thing that Alice (“Dr. Dyke”) heads an emergency room, since only people who’ve seen it all are able to sit as if nothing has happened next to a forty-five year old man—slight, Caucasian, symmetrical features except for the nose—who’s wearing a pair of Bavarian leather shorts with an image of an aroused Christopher Lee (the actor, fangs) emblazoned on the crotch part of said garment. (I’m a bit disingenuous here. These shorts, I’ve seen them before with the image of Richard Wagner in place of Christopher Lee. They are part of a Richard-Wagner-themed merchandize line, Godehart’s business; he’s from Germany and family of the composer, somehow).
Godehart has noticed my glance, points with one index finger in the direction of his adult parts, and asks “Family?”
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