Mot du jour

"Remember Whitewater, remember Benghazi? They could see a rerun on the fertile grounds of Trump's international financial involvements, including Russia and many other dodgy states, if the Democrats win the House in 2018."---Michael Ampersant

We have a bad day

It wasn't a great day today, but then they played Daniel Powter's "Bad Day" on Kiss FM, and the day got better. This is the official video. The sound is good, but the visuals are didactic. Worse, they have nothing to do with the lyrics, which are clever. And Daniel's "rival," who wins the visual show, looks like Trump's son in law. And now our internet connection problem is coming back, which appeared like being resolved for three days. Terrible. 

Where is the moment when we needed the most?

You kick up the leaves, and the magic is lost

They tell me your blue sky's faded to gray

They tell me your passion's gone away

And I don't need no carrying on

Stand in the line just to hit a new low

You're faking a smile with the coffee to go

You tell me your life's been way off line

You're falling to pieces every time

And I don't need no carrying on

Back home

The dogs of our neighbors, Chang, our hill, the "mont de Théoule," (still in the sun) and, in the background, "la baie des anges," (the Bay of Cannes)---the picture taken by Chang's Korean friend Kim (aka Alice, her German name; she lives in Hamburg).

Perry Brass and the "Green Eyes" at the New York Bookfair

It's a bit dated the picture---the fair took place in September---but there you have it. Thank You, Perry.

More reactions to "This Is Heaven"

Michael P.  on Goodreads:

Anyone who uses neologisms correctly, and understands their meaning, has me intrigued. This novel, the second in a series, had me from the first page. A plethora of language used eloquently and subversively kept the story going. We meet a number of characters who are intertwined in various ways. There is a Vampire festival, dead bodies, 'trolling' (to use the author's word), an amnesiac who cannot remember his former life due to committing suicide, an internet scam, and colorful people which blend this wonderful story into a crazy week of escapades which ends happily ever after...or does it? I wish I had read the first book to understand some of the goings on in this one, but it can be read as a stand alone novel due to the author creating vivid characters that will long stay in my mind. I would love to know these people and party with them, as they make life interesting.

If I can say something here in between: I got the informal meaning of 'trolling' from our friend Glenn, who figures regularly on this blog, and who was the owner of Nick's Restaurant---which also appears in the GREEN EYES---the real one, located in Baltimore. Let's hope Glenn used the word correctly. 

Nick's Restaurant (or Fish House, as it is now called)

Melanie on Goodreads:

Fun read, like Christopher Moore

(Yes, that was the entire review)

Sharon on Goodreads:

I loathed the formatting of this book. That out of the way, the story itself was wacky (and that's a good thing). It was hugely entertaining.

This Is Heaven, order now...

Support the troops

https://haus-of-ill-repute.tumblr.com/post/166663900241

Holier than thou --- solid like water

(From The Economist, Oct. 14, p 42 (in the European Edition:)

"Older American evangelicals [81% of whom voted for him] also know what Mr. Trump is. Last year, they flipped from being the voter group most likely to say 'personal morality mattered in a president,' to being the group least likely to say that."

More about the GREEN EYES franchise

Reviews posted on Amazon and/or Goodreads:

Glen Kline:

I will have to admit, this is my first foray into the land of erotica, and my experience with this genre is limited. But this particular book has opened my eyes to a whole different species of writing that I feel I will be reading more of in the future...

Tena:

It was a sexy, fun & witty sequel...and now I need to read book one!

Terry Osman: 

There is something great here if you can follow the writer's style. Stick with it and you'll get there. I liked it, but it took me a while to understand it.


Try us:

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A prayer for your thoughts

Portugal (4)

Just a few pictures from Aveiro:

Beach houses...

...in the fog. It's a bit like San Francisco, and almost as cold.

The fog is gone.

It's also a bit like Amsterdam, the place.

The tide is low; Pedro, or new friend, is roaming in the wetlands of the lagoon.

Homosexuality is a choice

Anything to do with the Green Eyes? Well, sure, after his OD-suicide-attempt, Alex re-awakes with serious amnesia and can't remember his sexual orientation. We're at the hospital, Alex still recovering, John and Alice are with him. GREEN EYES, Part I:


“John, you said you were my friend, right?” Alex asks.
“Yes.”
“You are my friend?”
“Yes.”
“How about my family?”
“Good question,” I say.
“How old am I?”
At least, I know his age. “Twenty nine.”
“I’m twenty-nine. Just attempted suicide. There’s no family to speak of? To work with?”

I’m chewing on the sweet. What do I know?

“They live somewhere else,” Alice says.
“I could be married, right? Have children?”
“You have no children.”
“How about a partner, a wife?”
“No wife.” she says.
“Figures,” Alex says, “she would be here now. I could be divorced, though. Not divorced?”
“Not divorced,” Alice says.
“You’ve heard this social worker,” he says to me, “I need an ally. How about girlfriends.”
“Girl friends don’t make good allies,” Alice says, “I speak from experience.” She looks at me. “Alex, you’ll have to do with us,” (she rests her hand on my shoulder) “John here, and myself. We’re your allies.”

“Thanks,” Alex says. He seems unconvinced. He seems so unconvinced, Alice has to add: “All the girls I know are in love with you.”
“You are a girl, too,” Alex says, more matter-of-fact than joking.
“Yes.”
“You are not my partner, right. Never been?”
“I’m lesbian,” Alice says, “I’m a dyke.”
“Right,” Alex says.
“How to explain this,” Alice says, “Here, John, here, he’s your partner.”

Don’t ask me how Alex looked glared at me. “Right,” he says. We’re cool.

Y'all still there? Then you'll like us:

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If only the Vegas gunman had been a Muslim

We're not really Thomas L. Friedman fans, but here you have his latest column in the NYT:


If only Stephen Paddock had been a Muslim … If only he had shouted “Allahu akbar” before he opened fire on all those concertgoers in Las Vegas … If only he were a member of ISIS … If only we had a picture of him posing with a Quran in one hand and his semiautomatic rifle in another …

If all of that had happened, no one would be telling us not to dishonor the victims and “politicize” Paddock’s mass murder by talking about preventive remedies.

The Mandalay Hotel in Las Vegas on Monday

No, no, no. Then we know what we’d be doing. We’d be scheduling immediate hearings in Congress about the worst domestic terrorism event since 9/11. Then Donald Trump would be tweeting every hour “I told you so,” as he does minutes after every terror attack in Europe, precisely to immediately politicize them. Then there would be immediate calls for a commission of inquiry to see what new laws we need to put in place to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Then we’d be “weighing all options” against the country of origin.

But what happens when the country of origin is us?

What happens when the killer was only a disturbed American armed to the teeth with military-style weapons that he bought legally or acquired easily because of us and our crazy lax gun laws?

Then we know what happens: The president and the Republican Party go into overdrive to ensure that nothing happens. Then they insist — unlike with every ISIS-related terror attack — that the event must not be “politicized” by asking anyone, particularly themselves, to look in the mirror and rethink their opposition to common-sense gun laws.

So let’s review: We will turn the world upside down to track down the last Islamic State fighter in Syria — deploying B-52s, cruise missiles, F-15s, F-22s, F-35s and U2s. We will ask our best young men and women to make the ultimate sacrifice to kill or capture every last terrorist. And how many Americans has the Islamic State killed in the Middle East? I forget. Is it 15 or 20? And our president never stops telling us that when it comes to the Islamic State, defeat is not an option, mercy is not on the menu and that he is so tough he even has a defense secretary nicknamed “Mad Dog.”

But when fighting the N.R.A. — the National Rifle Association, which more than any other group has prevented the imposition of common-sense gun-control laws — victory is not an option, moderation is not on the menu and the president and the G.O.P. have no mad dogs, only pussy cats.
And they will not ask themselves to make even the smallest sacrifice — one that might risk their seats in Congress — to stand up for legislation that might make it just a little harder for an American to stockpile an arsenal like Paddock did, including 42 guns, some of them assault rifles — 23 in his hotel room and 19 at his home — as well as several thousand rounds of ammunition and “electronic devices.” Just another deer hunter, I guess.

On crushing ISIS, our president and his party are all in. On asking the N.R.A. for even the tiniest moderation, they are AWOL. No matter how many innocents are killed — no matter even that one of their own congressional leaders was shot playing baseball — it’s never time to discuss any serious policy measures to mitigate gun violence.

And in the wake of last month’s unprecedented hurricanes in the Atlantic — that wrought over $200 billion of damage on Houston and Puerto Rico, not to mention smaller cities — Scott Pruitt, Trump’s head of the Environmental Protection Agency, also told us that it was not the time to discuss “the cause and effect” of these superstorms and how to mitigate their damaging impacts. We need to focus on helping the victims, he said. But for Pruitt, we know, it’s never time to take climate change seriously.

To take the Islamic State seriously abroad, but then to do nothing to mitigate these other real threats to our backyards, concert venues and coastal cities, is utter madness.

It’s also corrupt. Because it’s driven by money and greed — by gunmakers and gun-sellers and oil and coal companies, and all the legislators and regulators they’ve bought and paid to keep silent. They know full well most Americans don’t want to take away peoples’ rights to hunt or defend themselves. All we want to take away is the right of someone to amass a military arsenal in their home and hotel room and use it on innocent Americans when some crazy rage wells up inside them. But the N.R.A. has these cowardly legislators in a choke hold...

Portugal (3) --- Porto: Harry Potter's bookstore

So we're in Porto, and Chang begins to talk about Harry Potter. Namely, we have to go to this bookstore. Huh? Chang, bookstores?

Yes, the Harry Potter book store

Turn's out, J.K. Rowling, the author of the Potter franchise, had been living in Porto for a while, and when it came to locations for the movies, she moved Hollywood to the Lello Bookstore here, whereto the library of Hogwards had been relocated.

It's now a major tourist attraction, and the only bookstore in the world that charges an entrance fee (of four EUR) and has a line waiting outside.

The entrance fee is exchanged for a "voucher" which one can redeem book-wise. So, we bought "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone," the first installment of the series.

Our friend Glenn sends this cri de coeur:

Not exactly a cri de coeur, but you get the gist.

Anything the GREEN EYES have to add to this? We have a billionaire, Neill Palmer, sure, and he dies a suspicious darkroom death in Part II. But we have nothing really funny. Well, okay, here, from Part I, John meeting Palmer at Godehart's party/orgy (the thing about the web site is true, actually, and the guy's name really was Neill, but he wasn't wealthy). Here goes:

The network next to me consists of two elderly men, and two youngish rent boys. Love is in the air. The men are much older than me. I recognize one of them from the distant past, when I was still a young regular at the Blue Moon. He was running a place off the Coastal Highway, on Route 24, a large Thai place with an upper, more secluded, floor above the main restaurant, awful food, and willful oriental boys, who were waiting on tables in the meantime. Patrons came from all over the place, even from Atlanta, to taste one or more of his waiters. Yes, now I remember his name, Neill Palmer. He kept a website back in those days that was quite revolutionary, poorly aligned text in colorful, meandering hues and pictures of his staff, ranked according to their state of sexual arousal, the apex being the climax, boys caught with their cum coming in flagrante. I remember that he had never managed to externalize the moment of the squirt (white ropes flying from the penis), his cum-shots were always a bit off, the cum caught already dispersed into milky drops in the empty, or not so empty, space in front of his oriental masturbators.

Portugal (2) --- Porto

Westerly view of the Douro River. Note the fog; it's like in San Francisco.

View of touristy downtown Porto from the upper level of the Louis I bridge.

We're in Porto at the moment, the city of port wine and Harry Potter. 
Huh? 
Tomorrow we'll explain why.

More reactions to This Is Heaven

M. v. Brentano

Michael's philosophy teacher Margherita v. Brentano always used to say: "Don't care about what they are saying, care about what they are doing." Along those lines, a friend sends this message on Goodreads:

"I am about 100 pages into "Green Eyes, An Erotic Story" and I am quite impressed. (Admittedly, I've had 2 boners already. Sorry if that is too graphic for you, but I figured that the stories you write it would not be.)
I read your book before bed (and in bed) so it makes for a better atmosphere."

And here, another review on Goodreads from Mrs. Becky Kahl:

"I don’t read this kind of books but overall it was a good book. My grandsons age 15 & 16 loved it."

So much for adult content.

This Is Heaven, order now...

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(One remark: Reading about Becky's grandchildren, I was first surprised, but then I thought: if you discount the sex scenes, this is very much an Enid Blyton story---and any contemporary adolescent has been exposed to so much sex on the internet (and perhaps elsewhere), all of them possibly discount sex scenes automatically.)

The nuclear war achieved, King Donald ascends to the North-Korean throne

Portugal (1) --- Bondi Beach

We're on our way to Portugal---in fact, we've arrived already---and so we need to share this picture Chang took of Michael in Pau, a historic town north of the Pyrenees, where Henri IV was born, father of Louis XIII.





And Bondi Beach? In case you were wondering, it's Australia's signature beach, located south of Sidney:



The place where we are now, Vila Praia de Ancora, looks roughly like this, by the way. Stay tuned.

The Schadenfreude Institute

(Our friend Glenn sends this cartoon)

Anything the GREEN EYES have to add to this? Not really, except that we have Barbette Bienpensant, a professor of quantitative metaphysics and experienced forecaster of doom, who's affiliated with the University of Metaphysics. There, they have Departments of Alchemy and of Astrology. Why not  adding a Schadenfreude Institute to the mix? Especially with Donald Trump in the offing? Here's a pertaining fragment,  CH 46 of This Is Heaven, with John and the Bienpensant  conversing (the story is set in 2014):

“You and I talked about this before,” I say. “What do you do if your prediction is wrong? If there is no Armageddon?” Well, there’s so much Armageddon already. And there’ll be more soon, her Department of Astrology put out a Trump Warning. “A what?”  Trump, you know, the NYC real estate mogul, the stars have aligned apparently, they predict he’ll be the next president. And yet, you know, the end of the world need not be the end of the world, even with Trump in the offing, see, it could be rapture, rapture for just about everybody, an ecumenical ride from this world to the next. One moment we’re in this vale of sorrows, and the next we are up there in heaven. This is heaven— like Alex says, that’s what she loves so much about Alex. But people are so edgy these days, they don’t take yes for an answer. And so impatient. They always require distractions.