AdventureMan and I watched No Country for Old Men last night, and oh! it held us on the edge of our chairs. At the end, we ran for the phone to call our son and ask “Whoa! What happened??”
In short, we loved the movie (and I can hardly wait to read the book, although Cormac McCarthy goes a lot darker than I care to go). The Coen brothers also go darker than I care to go, but we find ourselves drawn to their movies because there is so much thought put into them, so many references to other genres, other films, and because the characters are so true to life. We first met them in Fargo, a movie we pull out and watch again from year to year – that’s a rare movie. We love the characters, even the bad guys are so human.
It’s the same in No Country for Old Men. Set in the desolation of West Texas, there are whole minutes when you listen to the wind whistling in the desert as the hero hikes down to a drug-exchange-gone-bad.
There is a good guy, a sherif played by craggy-faced Tommy Lee Jones, and an ordinary guy who finds a whole lot of money, and we really want him to get away with it, and then there is a really really bad guy, who is also smart, and . . . well, something inside of him is just bent. He’s not right. The Coen’s have a way of making him both appalling and just a guy doing his job very well. It’s not personal, but we wish he wouldn’t enjoy inflicting harm so much.
What I love about the Coen films is that they can capture the essence of a character so sparely, with just a few words, a few lines. There is a trailer park manager who refuses to give the very very bad guy an address. You hold your breath; she could get blown away, she doesn’t know it. She holds firm. In another scene, an older woman tells a Mexican man who has just helped her “You don’t see too many Mexicans in suits.” So so so politically incorrect, and so ordinarily normal, the plain-spokeness of the elderly. The Coen’s capture the West Texas-ness which permeates the film.
This movie is worth watching again.
This is another one of those books I picked up on the last day of my last travels in the US. I had been through the Barnes and Noble nearby several times, picked this up and looked at is at least a dozen times, then put it down, just not that interested. On the last day, who knows why, I bought it and stuck it in my outer pocket of my suitcase. Maybe it was the only thing I could see that would fit, I don’t know. I had rejected it so many times before.
It hasn’t even been on my night stand, the books I really really intend to read. It has been on a shelf of books I will read someday when I don’t have anything else to do. Every now and then, it caught my eye. The Zanzibar Chest was on the same shelf. . . and that turned out to be a pretty good book. So recently, after I had read some books I had to read but were a little dry, and a couple books I wanted to read which were a little light, I grabbed Water for Elephants.
That was day before yesterday. I couldn’t put it down. I had a whole list of things to get done yesterday, but once I started Water for Elephants, I was lost, totally immersed in the tawdry world of circuses, bound in the magic of the illusion and performances, mesmerized by what goes on behind the scenes to make the spectacular possible.
The main character loses his parents in a totally unnecessary car accident just as he is about to take his final exams in Veterinary Science, at Cornell University. (You might think I am throwing in too much useless detail here, but it matters.) Stunned by the triple loss of both his parents, and the discovery that they had hocked everything to the bank to fund his education, he blanks on his exams and hits the road, ending up with a second rate circus.
What is so amazing about this author is that once you start reading, you are THERE.
The above mentioned Zanzibar Chest keeps you hooked by it’s painfullness, but for both AdventureMan and myself, we never liked the author, we found him a little full of himself. It doesn’t take away from the Zanzibar Chest being a worthy read, and unforgettable read.
Water for Elephants, on the other hand, has a hero you love to love. In a world of strict boundaries, a heirarchical social structure, he manages to cross all the boundaries. He truly loves the animals, and in one scene, that love just radiates, emanates, it illuminates the book from the inside, and makes you feel light and crazy with that same sort of love, love of the whole of creation. Jakob is loyal to his friends, and loyal even to his enemies, he is sacrificial in his loyalty, and, in the end, he is vastly and abundantly rewarded for his good character.
There is something for everyone, just like a circus. Like a circus, too, it has illusions, it distracts with one hand while the trick is performed with another, there is sensuality, there is sexuality, there are photos from old circuses. There are things which could offend just about every sensibility; there is kindness, there is cruelty, justice and injustice and cosmic justice. Sometimes you just have to suspend judgement and go with the read. This is one of those books.
I would say this is one of the finest reading experiences I have had for a long time. Brava, Sara Gruen. Worth every penny.
I’ve told AdventureMan as soon as he finishes The Zanzibar Chest, he has to start Water for Elephants. I can hardly wait. It’s that good.
You can find Water for Elephants in paperback at Amazon.com for $8.37 + shipping.
As I work in the Project Room, I often have the radio on, BBC. I get to hear all about the US elections from another point of view, I get exposure to music I might otherwise never hear, and I hear things that show up weeks, even months later in the news.
AdventureMan called and asked if I had heard the segment on the Lemba in Zimbabwe. I hadn’t, but I listened closely for the next couple days and it was repeated.
It is about a professor who discovered what he thinks is a replica of the Arc of the Covenant in a dusty museum in Zimbabwe. He explored further, and discovered the Lemba claim ancient connections with the Arc, and had priestly customs similar to old Jewish customs. When they underwent DNA testing, the priestly clan of the Lemba had the same genetic markers as the priestly clan of the Jews, the descendants of Aaron.
How fascinating is that? Legend has always claimed the Arc of the Covenant is or was hidden somewhere in Ethiopia . . . transport to Zimbabwe from Ethiopia would not be out of the question.
I went to BBC news online and did a search – no results. Maybe it takes a while for their newest stories to be documented in their search files.
Googling on the internet, I found Ethiomedia which says the following:
In a newly released book, University of London Professor Tudor Parfitt claims to have located the treasured artifact on a dusty shelf of an out-of-the-way museum in Harare, Zimbabwe.
“It was just by chance that I finally managed to track it down to a storeroom in Harare, was able to analyze it and discover that quite apart from anything else, it’s quite probably the oldest wooden object in sub-Sahara Africa,” said Parfitt, an expert in Oriental and African Studies.
“It’s massively important in terms of history, even apart from its status as the last surviving link to the original Ark of Moses.”
In his HarperCollins’ book, “The Lost Ark of the Covenant: Solving the 2,500 Year Old Mystery of the Fabled Biblical Ark,” Parfitt describes traipsing around the globe, decoding ancient texts and deciphering numerous clues to locate the enigmatic object.
Along the way, the man dubbed the “British Indiana Jones” by friends, colleagues and the Wall Street Journal uncovered genetic evidence confirming claims by the Lemba tribe that they
are descendants of ancient Israelite priests, the caretakers of the lost Ark.
He experienced a major breakthrough in 1999 when he took DNA samples from 136 male members of the Lemba tribe. In a finding that drew worldwide publicity, a genetic analysis confirmed they were descendants of Aaron, the brother of Moses.
So many discoveries have proven to be fraudulent that I hesitate to put too much faith in this discovery, but I have to admit that it appeals to the little girl in me, who still believes archaeologists have great adventures, and loves the Indiana Jones movies!
(I hear there is a new Indiana Jones movie coming out soon. I hope old Harrison Ford can recapture enough of his youth to make this as good as the first one.)
A grin today from the FAIL Blog. This one had me helpless with the giggles.
Even some English speakers have problems with why this is funny – the word they meant to use on the news captioning was “evacuating.” The word they used has a very different meaning.
Last night I was invited for a very special occasion, the Tarek Rajab family had a private showing of their unparalleled Arab Dress collection for the Kuwait Textile Arts Association. We enjoy their two museums so much – we take our friends and visitors there, sometimes we just visit the calligraphy museum to watch the film on calligraphy one more time! We learn something new with every visit. If you have never visited either of these museums, you are missing one of the rare treats in Kuwait.
On top of their value on traditional items, their foresight in beginning the collection decades ago, their two museums are open to the public, entirely free. Free of charge. Free admission. I never can get over it; the entire country of Kuwait is an honored guest in these museums. Imagine.
Denise Rajab, the museum curator, was on hand to answer questions about the costumes, which were displayed hanging against backgrounds showing photos of the countries and surroundings where these items of dress would be worn. White gloves were available to all present, and people were encouraged to (gently) handle the garb, so that you could see front and back.
There was so much loving attention to detail, so much handwork in these items of clothing!
I encourage you, my friends in Kuwait, to do two things. First, visit the two Tarek Rajab museums (located in Jabriya, near the New English School.) Here is their website: Tarek Rajab Museums
Second, if you want a window on a whole new world, join this group, Kuwait Textile Arts Association. Take their trips (this year the group just got back from South Africa, and are whooping with delight!) and attend their monthly meeting, meet some of the most interesting people in Kuwait, interesting because they have wide-ranging interests – like yours!
Here are some photos from a truly remarkable evening:
I hope I’m in town next year for all the meetings, and . . . I’ll see you there!
From today’s Arab Times:
Rolls Royce and a Lamborghini dumped in a desert
Kuwait : Police found two luxurious cars — a Rolls Royce and a Lamborghini — worth KD 200,000 dumped in a desert area, reports Al-Anba daily. Reportedly, the cars were stolen from a rental office about 20 days ago. Personnel from the Criminal Evidences Department lifted fingerprints to identify the culprits.
Does anyone else find this funny? I mean funny, hahahaha, not funny strange, or weird. I mean it IS weird, it is so weird, but it makes me laugh.
In a little village in Washington State, there was a huge snowstorm a few years ago, and the roofs in the yacht club collapsed from the weight of the snow, collapsed on all those big fine yachts, and the citizens of the little village gathered and laughed. Boat moorage in their own little village had gotten so expensive, they couldn’t afford it, so these were all other people’s boats. And they just laughed.
200,000 KD worth of car in two cars. Just dumped in the desert. Seems kinda wasteful, doesn’t it?
Wow! Wow! Wow!
The last night was sold out! When the Ahmadi Singers and Orchestra staged Pirates of Penzance in the Mishref Theatre, Kuwait had a real treat.
The Singers, the Orchestra – and the audience – were all multinational. The Mishref Theatre is a delightful space, warm, comfortable, intimate. There were many many children in the audience, and all were particularly well behaved. Only one cell phone went off (twice) and it was immediately silenced; the owner did not chat on his phone while the performance went on. Wooo Hoooo, Kuwait!
Neither did the audience sit on its hands! Each song was warmly applauded, and the old favorites, like the Modern Major General, brought the house down.
What I liked the very best about this performance of Pirates of Penzance was that the singers seemed to be having a lot of fun. The staging was clever and well-done, lots of stage play, lots of interaction, lots for people to see. Lots of fun for the kids, too. The actors sang the complicated song slowly but snappily, and we could understand the lyrics, those hysterically funny Gilbert and Sullivan lyrics. The costumes were a lot of fun – do you see the parrot on one pirate’s shoulder?
Brava! Bravo! The Ahmadi Singers and Orchestra have caught fire! Who knows what they will stage next?
Here’s the problem. Life doesn’t come with an instruction manual. OK, OK, we have our holy books, and they give us character guidelines. I am talking about specifics here, when life hands you those lemons, how do you make lemonade? Specifically!
When we move to Florida, we thought we were in Paradise. We had a house with a big pool, surrounded by shady trees, families of racoons, beautiful gardens – what’s not to like?
Paradise came with chamaeleons, lizards, cockroaches, even in the best houses. And fleas. We had to learn how to deal with them.
During our first and only flea infestation, at first we blamed the cats. Being a terrible mother, I asked my son to help, and he went into the walk in shower (No! Not naked! He was wearing swimming trunks!) to bathe the cats with anti-flea shampoo. I would get the cat trapped, put the cat in the shower, he would shampoo them, let one out and I would hand him the next one. Both cats loved him the best; he had chosen them from the litter.
When I saw this photo on LOLCATS, I really had to laugh.
see more crazy cat pics
Just so you will know, the solution is to take the cats to the vet and have them treated for fleas professionally. While the cats are at the vets, pour 20 Mule Team Borax over all your carpets and in all your upholstered furniture, let it stand overnight, and vacuum it all up. After you vacuum, bring the cats back. It really works. The borax creates a saline environment in which the fleas (and cockroaches) can’t survive, but it doesn’t hurt pets.
SAN FRANCISCO — The Olympic torch arrived at the airport here from Paris in the wee hours Tuesday morning, exited out a side door and was escorted by motorcade to a downtown hotel. There it took a well-deserved break in a room complete with cable TV, room service and views of the city’s popular Union Square shopping district.
“It has very comfortable accommodations,” said Mike McCarron, an airport spokesman, who said the flame — ensconced in a handsome brass lantern and accompanied by several backup flames — was “treated similar to a head of state.”
On Wednesday afternoon, the flame will be under no such bushel as it makes its only appearance in the United States on an increasingly tense international tour en route to Beijing. It will star in a two-and-a-half-hour relay along this city’s waterfront, involving six miles of pavement, 79 runners and untold scores of law enforcement officials.
The precise route remained in flux on Tuesday as the torch extravaganza threatened to become more civic migraine than celebration in the face of potential protests by those upset with China’s human rights record and recent crackdown in Tibet. Mayor Gavin Newsom met with police and relay officials amid concerns that disruptions in London and Paris this week not be repeated here.
“I can only confirm that the route is dynamic,” said Nathan Ballard, a city spokesman.
Thank you – you know who you are – for starting my day with a laugh-out-loud election year joke:
A cowboy named Bud was overseeing his
herd in a remote mountainous pasture in California when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced out of a dust cloud towards him.
The driver, a young man in aArmani suit, Gucci shoes,RayBan sunglasses and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the cowboy, ‘If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, Will you give me a calf?’
Bud looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, ‘Sure, Why not?’
The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebookcomputer,connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resoluti on photo.
The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg , Germany ..
Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilotthat the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses a MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with email o n his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response.
Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-Tech Miniaturized HP LaserJet printer and finally turns to the cowboy and says, ‘You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves.’
‘That’s right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves,’ says Bud.
He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.
Then Bud says to the young man, ‘Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my ca lf?’
The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, ‘Okay, why not?’
‘You’re a Congressman for the U.S. Government’, says Bud.
‘Wow! That’s correct,’ says the yuppie, ‘but how did you guess that?’
‘No guessing required.’ answered the cowboy. ‘You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew,to a question I never asked. You tried to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don’t know a thing about cows…this is a
Herd of sheep. . . .
Now give me back my dog.
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Here There and Everywhere 