Poem

She wakes me nightly at five, without fail,
Leaving the rumpled bed, drawing me in her
Trail to living room colloquy, unbelieving
Glances, the sad suspicion she might prefer
Pale moonlight to my shadowy dances.

Things I love

light on water
dancing
Yunnan tea
Taiwanese cities
cheeses of many lands
Life's Rich Pageant
running along a night beach with a dog
one dead dog & one dead cat
the word "euphuistic"

Three cheers for P. Sabin Willett & Ricardo M. Urbina

Federal District Court judge Urbina has demanded that seventeen prisoners at Guantanamo Bay be released. These Chinese Muslims, who belong to the Uyghur minority group, have been the subject of protracted legal conflicts.

Their attorney, in an article published in 2005, wrote more generally about the prisoners in Cuba:

The Vice President says they men are Al Qaeda fighters. What does the military say? Eight percent are al Qaeda fighters. Ninety two percent are not. The Vice President says these men were picked up on the battlefield. The military data show that five percent were picked up on the battlefield. How did we get the others? US forces distributed leaflets. One says, in Pashto:

Get wealth and power beyond your dreams . . .
You can receive millions of dollars helping the anti-Taliban forces catch al-Qaida and Taliban murderers. This is enough money to take care of your family, your village, your tribe for the rest of your life. Pay for livestock and doctors and school books and housing for all your people.
Eighty-six percent were sold to us by people who got the leaflets.

Vice President Cheney says they committed hostile acts against Americans or their allies. What do the data show? Fifty-five percent of the detainees committed no hostile act against the US or its allies or any one else. By the way, wearing a Casio watch is a "hostile act." So is fleeing from US bombing.

On Casio watches.

Appaloosa

Though after The Hours I was pretty sure that I'd endured enough Ed Harris for a lifetime, I walked to the movie theater last night for the nine forty-five show of Appaloosa. The structure of the movie is fairly conventional; what makes it interesting is the characters. Harris plays a steely fellow who gets all flustered and giggly when he meets an attractive woman. The woman, a total slut, doesn't deserve him, but who else would shack up with a guy whose profession places a bullseye in the middle of his chest?
The images are beautiful, and the use of triangular compositions beautifully complements the movie's propulsive trinitarian dynamic.
Harris is excellent; Mortensen is fine, in spite of quite absurd facial hair; Zellweger is atrocious, as always; Irons is good; Spall is out of place (like Cleese in Silverado, a movie I quite like).
NB: This movie fails the Bechdel test.

Can coincidences be meaningful?

In a much read essay written in 1952, the Swiss psychotherapist Carl Gustav Jung outlined his thinking about the significance of chance events. He noted a series of anecdotal coincidences, then abruptly moved to refer to research on paranormal powers. I would move in a different direction.

What is a coincidence? It is the observed juxtaposition of apparently related events. In the examples cited by Jung, and by others fond of dwelling on such matters, coincidences are observed by one individual. There is little chance to verify the coincidences as they occur only in the mind: very few can be proven through written records. And the coincidence involves not a repetition, but a variation: an event is seen mirrored, slightly changed, in a different event.

These coincidences are not everyday things and they never appear to have any special significance. In other words, coincidences are no more likely to take place in the context of important events than in the context of trivial events; in the examples given by Jung, any given element of a coincidence is in itself unremarkable.

It is the observation of them that renders them remarkable. Once the brain notes a coincidence, it clings to it and interrogates the world for other, related events, which duly occur.

The human brain makes connections; that is its task. Should we be surprised that among the countless insignificant details of urban life the brain notes intersections and juxtapositions? Of course not: without such observations, we would be lost. But the question that needs to be asked, which Jung never asked, is whether the coincidences he identified are statistically significant. If we number every single datum, then pluck out those that our observant minds have called coincidences, do they occur with a frequency that suggests an unseen hand at work?

Only by answering that scientific question can the rational observer begin to understand the significance of coincidence.

What is so remarkable about coincidences, and what Jung utterly failed to appreciate, is that they attest to the extraordinary tenacity not of events, but of the human brain and its often perverse tendency to find connections.

Vote yes on proposition 2

A quiz that suggests, quite absurdly, that I'm pretty manly

I got 1100/1500.

Proofs that people suck

-war
-men referring to their profession as "masseuse"
-the decline in the population of many American birds
-Damien Hirst

The Star Ferry on film

Unless I am mistaken, the Star Ferry is the best thing in the world. Even if you've never been to Hong Kong, you can get a sense of the Star Ferry by watching Emmanuel Carrère's La moustache, an otherwise silly movie.

Israel arms the dictator

Now Israel is providing weapons to one of the nastier regimes in Central Asia.

9:21

There is a moment each morning when the sun bathes me. Reflections come off of otherwise innocuous surfaces. Each tiny facet on the backs of my parchment hands is superbly visible. Amid calamities, glory.

postscript

I feel trapped within my own history.

What is it?

Again and again, the feeling that life is something else. The feeling that in this handsome town, working with decent people, enjoying good health, loved by my family and adored by my dear nieces, I am barely alive.

Sitting in this room, looking out on an avenue, the feeling that every driver, cyclist, pedestrian is moving between groups to whom that individual is essential, while I sit here, alone, incapable of the most everyday utterance. When I hear myself speak, the sounds my words make pain me. What is lacking is any sense of being natural, comfortable in my skin.

A cat is my companion. I speak to her. I ask whether she is okay (a question I'd barely know if it were not for Won Sun), what she's been up to (sleeping, mostly), whether she remembers blackcat (another way of asking whether she'll remember me after I'm gone).

I try to make beautiful things, a daunting task. I plant flowers, they grow, they fade. I see the sky: it is often beautiful: I try to remember it, as if that will make a new beautiful object. I look at projects abandoned over the years and sigh.

What is it I'm hoping for?

Music

What I'm enjoying nowadays:
The Polyphonic Spree "The Fragile Army"
Massive Attack "Mezzanine"
an old recording on Vox of Brendel playing Beethoven variations
Haydn sonatas by Brendel (these make it impossible to listen to the Ax recordings I just got)
Fleet Foxes
Yves Montand: a collection of 100 songs, really fun

Oath

I hereby swear to boycott all movies that involve
-hitmen
-heists
-ghosts
-redemption
-dysfunctional families
-gambling
-Dustin Hoffman*
-CGI

*Understood as a shorthand for a long list that includes Robin Williams, Tilda Swinton, Oliver Platt, Steve Martin, Halle Berry, Roberto Benigni, Tom Cruise, Renee Zellweger, Nicholas Cage, Daniel Day-Lewis, and countless children.

He died.

What he liked best was being petted, I mean my magisterial scratching and kneading of his ribs, stomach, backbone, hips—above all, the scraping I gave, almost unwillingly, to the zone where his chin met his teeth. His trot, quite stiff for one so young, always amused me. His adoptive mother, a cool calico, tolerated his boyish displays of aggression; they were always halfhearted. Likewise, when I had him on his back and he decided I'd gone a bit too far with my tummy work or rib plucking, he'd make a play for my hand and arm with his forelimbs, kicking at me with aftlimbs like a kangaroo, but always with his claws sheathed.

I miss him.

He liked to crouch at the edge of the gravel pit and ogle the birded branches of the overhanging tree. As the towhees and mockingbirds hopped from nest to branch, he'd helplessly mew. Did he ever kill one? I don't know. The only victim I saw him with was a Polyphylla decemlineata, and that awkward stridulating beetle I quickly separated from its tormentor. He often meowed for no apparent reason; on that occasion he meekly and mutely received my scolding.

I don't know what killed him, but that morning he was out of sorts, later that day he vomited, and then he was simply gone.

He was black, with a slender white V on his breast and a similar pattern near his groin. When his mouth was shut, the tips of his upper canines sometimes protruded just slightly beyond his lips, so I fondly addressed him as Blacula.

His adoptive mother seems cool as ever since his disappearance on August 4. But she does warble an odd meow I never before heard from her.

Omer Fast, "CNN"

My movies

I have borrowed a lot of movies from the library. The pile on my floor is
ABC Africa, directed by Abbas Kiarostami (2001)
Life and Nothing But, directed by Bertrand Tavernier (1989)
Marius, written by Marcel Pagnol (1931)
Fanny, written by Marcel Pagnol (1932)
César, written by Marcel Pagnol (1936)
Muriel, directed by Alain Resnais (1963)
Hiroshima mon amour, directed by Alain Resnais (1959)
Shadow of a Doubt, directed by Alfred Hitchcock (1942)
The Island, directed by a hack (2005)
La belle noiseuse, directed by Jacques Rivette (1990)
Le professionnel, directed by Georges Lautner (1981)
La guerre est finie, directed by Alain Resnais (1966)
Kings & Queens, directed by Arnaud Desplechin (2004)
The Wind Will Carry Us, directed by Abbas Kiarostami (1999)
Deserted Station, directed by Alireza Raisian (2002)
Crimson Gold, written by Abbas Kiarostami (2003)
Clean, directed by Olivier Assayas (2004)

Borrowing from Gavin

An article on the front page of today's Financial Times reported that twenty-five thousand people showed up at Tian An Men to witness the arrival of the Olympic torch at the south entrance to the Forbidden City, only to realize, as the hours crept by, that the authorities had smuggled the torch past them, into the imperial compound, where a small and carefully vetted audience applauded. That's really mean.

A friend replies, number 17

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

Loneliness, isolation and/or alienation: as often experienced when living in surburbia.

Where would you like to live?

San Fran, Beijing, Tokyo.

What is your idea of earthly happiness?

Too difficult of a question to answer. Many things make me happy. All of them sound corny, and the list is always growing.

To what faults do you feel most indulgent?

The deadly sins of greed and gluttony.

Who are your favorite heroes of fiction?

The Tibetan Monk in Journey to the West: patient to a fault, motivated by good intentions, courageous, all while being entirely spiritual.

Who are your favorite characters in history?

Hmm, I'd like to rewrite this question, if I might: Who is my least favorite character in history?
E.L. Bernays--the father of public relations, a dastardly man who founded an industry based on manipulation and dark tactics of persuasion.

Who are your favorite heroines in real life?

Frida Kahlo: amazing artist, lived without apologizing.

Who are your favorite heroines of fiction?

Hmmm, drawing a blank here. Could that be because the canon is based on a patriarchal system??? (wink)

Your favorite painter?

I could answer Frida Kahlo, but that would be too easy, wouldn't it? Let's say, instead, John Singer Sargent, who had an uncanny talent for combining realism with a touch of impressionism.

Your favorite musician?

Oh, gosh, I don't know. There's too many to choose from. Ummm, I can't do it!

The quality you most admire in a man?

The combination of two qualities: uninhibitedness and kindness.

The quality you most admire in a woman?

Same--it's genderless.

Your favorite virtue?

Honesty (from the perspective of Kant). Difficult in practice, interesting in theory.

Your favorite occupation?

Hmmm, perplexing question. My favorite as in, favorite thing I've done in my life, or the one that I might not have ever done but has captured my imagination somehow? I'll answer the latter: farmer.

Who would you have liked to be?

Foucault.

A friend replies, number 16

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

If someone believed that I had done something bad and I couldn't clear my name.

Where would you like to live?

Anywhere Mandarin speaking. Or Hong Kong.

What is your idea of earthly happiness?

Reading.

To what faults do you feel most indulgent?

Lying to yourself about the small things. I totally understand. It's still stupid, but I understand.

Who are your favorite heroes of fiction?

The un-sung hero. The best example of which is Sydney Carton. "It is a far far better thing I do now than I have ever done, a far far better rest I go to than I have ever known..."

Who are your favorite characters in history?

Normal people. If a person is still remembered, they probably did something spectacularly bad. Or if they are academics, I dislike the fact that we just remember one name when it takes an entire entourage (with many females) and loads of money to support someone doing research. A named person? Not interested.

Who are your favorite heroines in real life?

My female friends.

Who are your favorite heroines of fiction?

Sadly, there are not many to choose from. Heroines are a pretty sad lot and I can't really identify with them, for the most part. All of them are pretty or want to be pretty, and all of them are far too aware of their sex to be anything but limited by it. I'm with Virginia Woolf; the female sex will be nothing so long as she is a heroine first and a hero second.

Your favorite painter?

I have a favourite painting - The Necklace by William McGregor Paxton. No favourite painter.



Your favorite musician?

Impossible. More like an era - "Alternative" music from the mid-80s. The Bryan Eno, Bobby & Cynthia, Japan, XTC kind of stuff.

The quality you most admire in a man?

An interest in others besides himself.

The quality you most admire in a woman?

A strong ego.

Your favorite virtue?

Kindness.

Your favorite occupation?

I don't understand the question. No job is good in itself, it depends on the context. The 'best' job can be the worst if you are not cut out for it.

Who would you have liked to be?

An astronaut, if only it were possible.

A friend replies, number 15

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

Lost of anyone you love.

Where would you like to live?

Heaven but I do not know where it is.

What is your idea of earthly happiness?

Have fun with friends and your families.

To what faults do you feel most indulgent?

Food. (I forget the word begin with a g.)

Who are your favorite heroes of fiction?

I cannot think of any because I forget all I have read.

Who are your favorite characters in history?

Sima Qian because he was a castrated historian.

Who are your favorite heroines in real life?

My wife because I am so afraid of her.

Who are your favorite heroines of fiction?

Probably I should read some pornographic fictions.

Your favorite painter?

林布蘭. but I do not know painting/

Your favorite musician?

I cannot remember anyone because I do not listen that much and because I cannot remember.

The quality you most admire in a man?

Someone like Sima Qian who was dare to complain and was castrated

The quality you most admire in a woman?

I cannot think of any.

Your favorite virtue?

[No answer given.]

Your favorite occupation?

My occupation now.

Who would you have liked to be?

A historian.

Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance is not all that

Declaring its moody, arthouse intentions from the first out-of-focus shot, Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance has little to say. It piles grotesque acts of violence up until everyone's dead, then fades to black. And has it been noted that some of the movie's salient plot elements were lifted from Chungking Express? A kidnapping in which the child does not know she's been kidnapped; a protagonist who uses baseball to vent frustration. And Bae Doona, the actress who plays the anarchist girlfriend, is channeling Wong Faye throughout.

Going

Sotheby's is having lots of auctions. Some involve wine, others involve paintings. Here is a painting by Andy Warhol.

It's not very good. But this Redon is gorgeous.

And the page below, from a late fourteenth-century Latin book of hours, shows at the bottom a figure known as a "drollery creature," or what I'd have called a chimera.

And a gouache by Hans Bol, one of my favorite painters.

A tribute

Laurie, Adrian Belew, David Van Tiegham

Guns

The question is not whether the second amendment to the Constitution limits the ownership of firearms to certain groups—clearly it does not. The question is what limits may be placed on the ownership of guns by local and national laws. And if the limits necessary for the preservation of certain unalienable rights infringe on the second amendment, then the time has come for a twenty-eighth amendment.

The real crime

Okay, so some good liberal lawyers were passed over by the DoJ in favor of some not-so-good ones with conservative credentials, big deal. The real tragedy is the use of the word "deselect" throughout the report.

What does "deselect" mean? It means "reject." If ever there were a case for insisting on etic terms, this is it.

Omygawd

Omygawd omygawd omygawd.

REASON TO LIVE!

Feeling at ease

It takes me a while to get used to people. My social skills are possibly below average: I don't chat much with strangers, despite a sort of general feeling that I ought to. And quite often I have no idea what to say to people I've known for years.

Part of the problem is that for a long time I've known almost nothing about sports, television, video games, the cost of living, health care, politics, and many other things that pass for acceptable conversation topics. I abhor mindless chatter--unless it's very funny. And I'm no good at giving easy answers.

Sometimes I'm a bit scared that I'll end up utterly alone.

Boring bug

Over a year ago, I planted lantana and salvia along Pepper School Alley. They thrive with no water at all, in lots of sun. This morning, on my rounds, I noticed once again a big black winged insect, a bumblebee without the fuzz. When I stopped to observe, I saw that the nectar-lover had settled close to the base of a salvia flower's long scarlet pitcher. It hunkered down on that solid support, head toward the juncture of stem and blossom, and as I watched it produced a tube from its oral cavity, which slipped sharply through the flower tube to get right to the bottom of the nectar cup. Neat. The bee has outfoxed the angiosperm DNA, which created flowers to lure pollinators. The bee in question, if it's a bee, never comes close to the pollen.

Note that another naturalist noticed this behavior some time ago.

Take that, Giorgio Agamben!

“The laws and Constitution are designed to survive, and remain in force, in extraordinary times."

But since their votes are utterly predictable from the outset, I'm puzzled as to why Supreme Court justices even show up to hear cases. They could learn a lesson from California State Assemblyman Kevin de León.

Brad Mehldau Trio, Herbst Theatre, San Francisco, 6 June 2008

A phenomenal concert.
-No Moon at All (Redd Evans & David Mann)
-Airegin (Sonny Rollins)
-I Concentrate on You (Cole Porter)
-untitled Mehldau original
-Wyatt's Eulogy for George Hanson (Mehldau)
-Aquelas Coisas Todas (Toninho Horta)
-Holland (Sufjan Stevens)
-a Monk tune

Here's what another blogger wrote about going to the concert and speaking to Mehldau afterward.

I am a very lazy person

This morning I woke early and walked from my house in Petaluma to the river. That's all of four blocks, though I took a sidelong approach and so walked a bit further. In the fields north of the Washington Street bridge (which is hung with netting), I saw tall slender plants with blue radial flowers and coyote bush, as well as much forgotten asphalt and concrete and plastic. A man by the river's edge acknowledged me. I walked a bit further upstream, so that I might watch birds and bugs without disturbing him or being disturbed. Cliff swallows swooped and darted up along metal siding that rises from the water: it makes a convenient anchor for their nests. Paddling up and past me went a quartet of mallard drakes; then a sextet of mallard hens flew by. In the cloudy brown and green water eight feet below me, I caught at intervals that magical flash of silver that speaks of fish. Although I could make out the sounds of automobiles from the freeway less than a mile away and from Washington Street, mostly I heard the swallows, singing sparrows, the rustle of plants in a gentle breeze.

So much of this sort of beauty can be had just a short walk from our homes. And yet I am so disastrously lazy that I walk along the river no more than once a season.

On my way past the converted warehouses and feed facilities that show their asses to the river, I watched a great egret fly over and, minutes later, a black-crowned night heron. They have the most marvelous wings.

Why I hate New Age thinking

Here is a typical example of the sort of drivel spouted by those who embrace New Age philosophy:

S. and T. collaborate to create art which inspires, calms, and nourishes. They come together for “art retreats” to create new images and paintings. They are both influenced by spare, clean Japanese design and are inspired by artists like Hiroshige, Hokusai, David Lance Goines, and Mucha. The collaboration of these two artists brings out their best work. They continue to work together to bring affordable art to everyone. They are truly following their passion and wish that for all beings.

I think that S. and T. can rest assured that tapeworms and coelacanths are "following their passion."

I also hate stupid Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Daoists and atheists, but their epistemologies are not nearly as compromised as New Age thinking, which is utter drivel, root and branch. It's based on intuition, hence preposterous. It makes room for a range of competing beliefs, so it's inconsistent and incapable of rendering evaluations. And it gives rise to disastrous fashion choices.

Funny

But maybe not as funny as I think.

This asshole

At 0:33.

Weather

Windy now. Sky pale blue, greyish pink near the horizon. Not a cloud.

Me in the underground

Domaine Weinbach [this is a transcript in progress]

Arrived late. The front door was locked. We knocked. People visible inside would not open. Finally we were admitted, only to sit in a sort of small dining room while Faller women marched through. Smells of lunch cooking. We looked over a list. Colette Faller asked what we wanted to try. I replied, "Votre pinot noir W, s'il vous plait. Et puis vos vendanges tardives." Steven remonstrated gently with me for indicating only that we wanted to try a single red wine and some very sweet wines. Then in came Catherine Faller. She asked what language we wanted to proceed in. We agreed on English.

SRG: But I should explain. I mentioned to your mother just now—

CF: Yes? Yes?

SRG: —that we want to try vendanges tardives, which of course we want to try, but it probably would be best to begin—

CF: Of course. With the dry—

SRG: —with the dry wines. And we're particularly interested in your rieslings.

CF: The riesling.

SRG: Yes, please.

CF: Yes. And where . . . You come from . . . ?

SRG: I'm from California. The two of us are from California. And this gentleman, originally from California, now lives in Berlin and Paris.

CF: In . . . Paris . . . ?

SRG: Paris and Berlin.

CF: Berlin is a beautiful city. As well.

SL [utterly disbelieving]: Beautiful?

[burst of laughter from SRG]

CF: —artists

SL: It is interesting 

CF: This is the pinot noir "W" which is the . . . malolactic fermentation
two or three year old barriques
That's whty it's called "W," which means "Weinbach wood."

SRG: Oh. Gotcha.

CF: Opposed to the regular pinot noir, which is aged—fermented in old oak in barriques which are between 40 and 100 years old. Of course, there's no exchange of tannin.
Maybe a little too cold. And it comes from the clos which is composed of

SRG: And how old are the vines?

CF: Forty years old. Would you like something to . . .

[sipping]

SL: Thank you.

CF: Full bodied, hein, with ripe tannins.

SRG: And very ready to drink.

CF: Mm? Yes. Like to try a riesling?

SRG: Yes, please.

[Catherine leaves the room.]

WS [to Sam]: You took that in one gulp.

SRG: Yeah. I've gotta say, I'd take a Russian River pinot noir over that any day. Virtually no bouquet.

WS: No, I thought . . . initially . . .

SRG: No. Virtually nothing. And in these glasses, who could tell, anyway? There's not much . . . What do you think, Steven?

[Catherine returns.]

[pouring]

CF: 2006. This is the richest cuvée among the dry rieslings that we produce. It comes from vines which are between 40 and 60 years old, located on mid-slope, which is the best exposure.

[silence from the drinkers]

SL: What does the "inédit" mean here, on this?

CF: "L'inédit" means "one of a kind." It's between a dry style and a late harvest.

SL: Oh. Okay.

CF: But that's not this one, hein. This is the two-six and l'inédit is a two-four. So this one's . . . Concentration and the elegance. It has a very long finish. A very ripe and harmonious acidity.

SRG: Yeah. It's very good. For sure.

CF: And it can age. Very expressive now . . . Would you like to try L'Inédit?

SRG: Sure.

SL: Yes.

[Catherine leaves & returns]

SRG: So, in 2003 the ripes were super ripe?

CF: Two three: yes. Uh-huh. So, this is L'Inédit. [pours] This is very silky; it comes from sixty-years-old vines located on mid-slope. And it was picked with 15 alcoholic potential at harvest, and the fermentation stopped at 13.6, but—which are very well integrated into the acidity.

SRG: So in any given year you'll decide for the Ste. Catherine, which vines are going to go into that cuvée?

CF: Yes: it's always the same. It's always the oldest vines that we have in the Grand Cru Schlossberg. Yes, so this one is very silky, hein, with wonderful tropical flavors of pineapple. And it's a wonderful complement to scallops, sautéed goose liver, crab. It's nice as an aperitif as well.

SRG: Do you get many visitors from Japan?

CF: Some. Not too many. But we export to Japan. [to Won Sun] Do you come from . . . ?

WS: No.

SRG: I ask because we were in Champagne a couple of years ago and we met some Japanese tourists who had been to Alsace.

CF: Yes. From time to time.

SRG: China?

CF: Not so much. We have more people from the States, I would say, from England, from Europe, Italy. A lot of people from Sweden. Yes. Denmark, Belgium, Switzerland. And of course from Germany. Austria from time to time.

SRG: Do you export virtually all of your wines to the United States?

CF: Nearly all of them, yes. Most of them.

SG: Not the pinot noir, probably.

CF: We did some special [straining for the word] export for just one or two clients. Would you like to try the pinot gris? This is the Pinot Gris Cuvée St. Catherine. Between 2006, which comes from the clos, which was cultivated by the monks until the Revolution. And it's composed of soil on granite pebbles.

SRG: So the clos . . . How many different cépages are in the clos?

CF: Nearly all of the varieties. Sylvaner, pinot blanc, pinot noir, pinot gris, riesling . . .

SRG: I've had very few pinot gris; this is very good. I've had pinot grigio, but this is so much better.

CF: It's very well structured, hein? It's a perfect accompaniment to risotto with mushrooms, white meat, poultry . . .

CF: All our vineyards are farmed biodynamically.

SRG: How long have you been doing that?

CF: We started in 1998. Which is more a philosophy than a religion, you know. It really allows the terroir to express much better in the wine.

SRG: Are your vineyards all close by?

CF: Yes. We have 8 hectares on the Grand Cru Schlossberg. There. Which was the firs And then we have one hectare furst
three hectares in the Altenbourg
and half an hectare in the Grand Cru Montbourg.
And the rest is . . . around.

SRG: Are all of your wines made entirely from your own grapes?

CF: Yes. All of the wines are made from estate-grown grapes. Exactly. Yes. And yields are kept low by short pruning. And all the grapes are picked exclusively by hands at optimum maturity to assure maximum ???.

SRG: Outside of the biodynamic, is there any sense in which Weinbach is not a traditional Alsatian winery?

CF: Mmmmmmmmmm. I don't think so. You mean, not—

SRG: For example, vinification . . .

CF: Vinification? No. It's traditional. We use . . . My sister is the winemaker—Lawrence—
and we use the indigenous yeast. And all the fermentation are made at the temperature control. Would you like to try a gewurztraminer?

SRG: Sure.

SL: Okay.

SRG: Sure.

[Catherine leaves]

WS: How did she say "gewurztraminer"?

SRG: "Gewurztraminer"? That's what she said.

WS: Turned an "r" into an "h" . . .

SL: But, I mean, it was . . . it was very close to the German, with a strong French accent.

WS: I liked the riesling, the Ste. Catherine.

SRG: We had two.

WS: The one we had before this.

SRG: L'inédit. It was definitely more character.

SL: More sugar.

[Catherine returns]

CF: This is a Gewurztraminer Alternbourg Cuvée Laurence 2004. Altenbourg is composed of limestone and clay, and it's between the Grand Cru Schlossberg

Gewurztraminer with a great aromatic complexity and a wonbderful balance.

SRG: So each of the varietals, the cépages becomes classified as a Lawrence or a Catherine.

what is shared among

CF: The Cuvée Lawrence usually comes from limestone and clay soils. From the ---, from the Altenbourg. And the Cuvée Ste Catherine are usually picked later. But we will remove—we removed, in order to simplify the labels and the comprehension, we removed the word "Cuvée Lawrence" for the Altenbourg
so it will be . . . Since 2006, it is only Altenbourg or Grand Cru
And then we have the regular Cuvée Laurence, which comes from the Altenbourg.

SRG: Oh, I see.

[drinking]

CF: This is very elegant. It's not too exuberant; it's very well balanced; it's not cloying. Indian cuisine, smoked fish, rich cheeses. Epoisse.

SRG: And how is the Grand Cru [Gewurztraminer] Mambourg different from the Altenbourg?

CF: Grand Cru Mambourg is a little bit richer, a little bit more concentrated that the Altenbourg.

SRG: 'Cause I like this very much and I'd like to try the Mambourg.

CF: You'd like to try the Mambourg. I'll have to check if I have it.

SRG: 'Cause I'm going to buy some of this, but I may buy the Mambourg if it's available.

[Catherine exits]

WS: It's extremely attractive.

[sound of bottle opening, wine pouring]

WS: Merci.

SRG: Oh. I forgot. I left something in the car that I have to bring in.

WS: Do you have the key?

SL: Is it in the trunk, I assume?

WS: What are you looking for?

SRG: The tea.

[discussion of the key and the trunk]

SRG: Oh, I see. Okay.

SL: Maybe you'll have more luck.

CF: It's a little bit more candied fruit. Yellow plums. Than the Grand Cru Altenbourg.

SRG: What happens to these flavors over time, with the gewurztraminer? How would you describe what it will be like . . .

CF: In ten years you will have faded roses, and it will be—the sugars will be more integrated, with a little bit more, maybe, candied orange and mango. And I think the bitterness will be a little bit more . . .

SRG: If you had a choice—and of course the wines have different qualities at different times—what do you think would be the optimum age for this particular . . .

[Catherine notices the minidisc recorder]

SRG: I should have asked.

SRG: Je vous demande pardon.

CF: Parce que vous ecrivez pour . . .

SRG: C'est seulement pour moi.

SRG: It's just for myself.

CF: L'age optimale? 2004, 2008. It's very good now.

SRG: Of course. But different people like different qualities. It's just, when you say something like "faded roses," I think, maybe I should wait ten years.

CF: Maybe four more years.

SRG: And for the vendanges tardives

CF: Very expressive when they're young. . . . But our venfadges tardives are already showing quite well. Because in the mind of some people, if a wine is good young, it will not age well. I think a young wine should be good. If it's not good, you can just forget it. Whether it's red or white. For sure. A little bit closed

SRG: People talk about a "dumb period." Does this happen with your wines? Is there a moment when . . .

CF: Not as in . . . I think it happens in Burgundy

SRG: And in Rhône whites.

CF: With our wines, it's not very frequent. It may happen, but it's not very frequent.

SRG: I drink a lot of German rieslings. And my experience is I almost always prefer them young.

CF: We also like young rieslings. But our riesling from the Grand Cru Schlossberg, they, the minerality of the GCS is not dominant, you've tasted the 2004, it shows some minerality
not heavy
it's combined with the fruit, so it's very subtle in a way.
is more dominant
You tasted the two-oh-four, which is—it shows some minerality
it's very subtle, in a way
But, of course, you have to be very careful, with the older rieslings.
And you have to choose the food, which you're going to serve. Or you can just ake them—

SRG: I would drink your wines as an aperitif.

CF: Of course, riesling is one of the most food-friendly wines in the world. It's wonderful. You know that. But of course, the most complexities, the more simple should be the food. The more complex the wine, the more simple the food. So, again, riesling, compared with a 2006, 2005, even compared with traditional fish
As well as Thai cuisine
But a riesling—a ten-years-old riesling would pair with something more traditional, like a sole meuniere, with a beurre blanc
traditional French cuisine

SRG: Because . . .

CF: Because the wine is more complex. If you add the coconut milk, it's not going to work. It's difficult to pair those. And because
first-quality fish
The simpler the recipe

SRG: Well, I'm from San Francisco.

CF: You are lucky. You have very good restaurants in San Francisco. I know a lady—

SRG: Did you visit recently?

CF: A long time ago. It's my sister.

visited San Francisco by the time there was a riot in Los Angeles.

SRG: We were all there.

CF: I was there. There was a riot and the bridge were going to be closed. I was in San Francisco when there was a riot in Los Angeles. There was something in Los Angeles

SRG: Los Angeles, you could see smoke all around the city. San Francisco never saw anything like that. What year was it?

WS: '91 or '92. [It was 1992.]

CF: In the nineties, yes. I can't . . . '91 or '92. La Fleur de Lys—you know?

SRG: Of course.

CF: They are very good friends. Hubert Keller. Fleur de Lys, yes.

SRG: Are there any great Alsatian chefs working in America?

CF: Yes, they are. Fleur de Lys.

SRG: Was the guy at Lutèce, André Soltner, is he Alsatian?

WS: The FCI.

SRG: What's that?

WS: The French Culinary Institute.

SRG: Is that in New York?

CF: In Chicago. And Jean-Georges Vongerichten in New York. They come from Alsace.

SRG: They're all from Alsace.

SRG: Can I get back in?

CF: You just have to leave the door open.

[Sam goes out]

CF: You would like to try a late harvest?

SL: Yes, please. Um.

CF: Rieslings?

SL: Yes, rieslings.

[Won Sun tells Steven about "Top Chef" and Bravo, the gay network.]

CF: So this is a Riesling Grand Cru Schlossberg Vendanges Tardives 2004.

[sound of pouring]

SRG: Je vous ai apporté un petit cadeau.

CF: Ah! Merci beaucoup.

SRG: C'est du thé de chine. C'est quelque chose d'assez spéciale.

CF: Je bois du thé chaque matin. Donc, c'est pas du thé vert.C'est du thé normal.

SRG: Disons normale, oui.

SRG: This is really good.

CF: Merci beaucoup. Trés gentil. Emballé le 12 mars. Is that the right way to open it?

SRG: Just gently pull it apart.

CF: And you can reseal it after this. I'll try it tomorrow morning.

[drinking wine]

CF: Merci beaucoup.
Is that the right way to open it? And you can reseal it . . .

CF: I'll try it tomorrow morning. You know, I have girlfriends. They know that I have . . . the wine. They keep giving me, as a gift, tea with fruit
I hate! It's awful. Tea with passionfruit flavors. The worst is the grapefruit. Add acidity to the tea. The tannin of the tea, plus the acidity of the grapefruitTea with passionfruit flavors
Grapefruit
You can't drink it! I can't! If I drink tea, I like regular tea
It's awful.

SRG: It can be nice as a novelty. At Christmastime, a little bit of candied orange or something like that . . .

CF: Yes, or Earl Grey, with bergamot, which is classic. Or but you know you go into a tea shop an that's all those junky flavors . . . Like a chef cooking with ten-ingredient dish and then you forget

SRG: What's underneath all that

CF: Or can I find the fish . . . It's all about that. I like precise—I like precision. In the food and in the wine. It's important, I think.

SL: Coffee. For a while, my parents were drinking flavored coffee as well, and I had to bring my own coffee.

WS:

SRG: When people who don't know anything about French food . . .

It's all because their meat was so bad. Their meat was so bad . . .

WS: A lot of those additives

SRG: And let me tell you: when people in America

WS: No, no, no. The meat two hundred years ago

CF: I agree with the fact that your meat is better than ours. For sure.

SL: Because they have greater grazing areas, which is really important.

CF: Yes. The best beef in France in the Charolais. You can't find Charolais at my butcher's.
I would buy it, but maybe I would be the only one to buy it

SRG: I see these beautiful pictures of cows up in hillsides, and their milk is made into beautiful cheeses . . .

CF: But the cows that are raised for meat come from near Burgundy . . .

SRG: Because in America the meat is considered a bit of a scandal

SL: But there are also alternatives

SRG: You can always find excellent beef, but what McDonalds is selling, often from South America . . .

WS: They say they're not selling . . .

CF: But the best beef comes from Argentina, I think.

SRG: It's an argument

CF: Kobe beef
You can only eat, maybe 50 gramsIt's more white than red.

SRG: But fat is awfully good.
I'm a vegetarain, so I don't eat any of this.
CF: Yes, of course, it's awfully good. I agree. Butter is awfully good, as well. Bearnaise is awfully good. . But I don't cook that, except if I have guests. But for the family: no sauce! My son is complaining, says, "I like it when you are on business trips, because with Colette we don't eat diet food." Because my mother likes potatoes, likes sauces. So he's more happy when I am away. He is 28.

SRG: Does he work for the family business?

CF: He says it's boring. Because he likes tartiflettes

SRG: Is tartiflettes pomme de terre

CF: You should go to the Alps to that

SRG: That's what we should have for lunch.

CF: It's not typical for Alsace, if you'll allow me to say that.
Tarte à l'ognion is very good.

SRG: If we went to Ribeauvillé for lunch.

CF: And the Sommelier in Bergheim is closed as well?

SRG: I don't know.

CF: They have a wonderful winelist. Shall I call? And I can make the reservation for you.

SRG: Yeah, that would be great.

CF: And how did you like the riesling?

SRG: This is terrific.

[Catherine leaves]

SRG: Oh yeah.
Especially since

SRG: Thank you very much.

CF: Thank you very much.
And in San Francisco you have Alice Waters
And you have the French Laundry in Napa. And I know chefs—

SRG: Steven's been there.

CF: And did you like it?

SL: When I was leaving California, that was one of my farewell dinners.

CF: My sister has.

SRG: Oh yes, she's the one who travels.

CF: To the States.

SRG: Gewurztraminer. This is a Vendange Tardive 2004. I just thought that that last riesling was marvelous.

WS: You know how much I like

SRG: Well, they don't have any of that bitterness.

[Steven talks German on telephone.]

[Catherine speaks to Sommelier staff.]

SRG: Tant pis!

CF: Si non, vous avez . . . They have one . . . And on the other side . . . Chambard. Mardi soir et mercredi.

SRG: Roundabout.

CF: How do you call that?
You can park at the beginning of the village.

SL: This is lovely also.

CF: Do you want me to make a reservation?
At the

[Catherine makes reservation by phone]

CF: I'm frustrated on horses. Because when I was 9 I wanted to ride a horse.
My father said, "No!"
I said, "Why?"
Because it's dangerous and you will have a complex of superiority.
We had horses to work in the vineyards.
Compensation
When I was 13, he was the president of the basketball club.
I said, "No, I'm not going to play basketball, because when I wanted

SRG: Motorcycle.

CF: No. But they bought one.
And then he had an accident.
The first accident was me.
I had an accident on the scooter
When I was 19
When my son was 15
"Do you want the helmet?

SRG: Typical.

CF: Then I had to get gas, and the one to brake
I hit the wall.

SRG: He was probably more upset about his scooter than he was about you.

CF: I could have got killed. I had two black eyes.
Two black eyes and a raw nose.

SRG: So few of us have perfect noses.

SRG: Okay, are you guys done?  May we buy some wine?

There was

There was a bird I'd heard of, but never seen, a bird neither large nor rare, but somehow representing spring, and I hoped to see it in Britain. As it turned out, I did. With an hour before our train shot out of Saint Pancras, Won Sun and I walked from Bill's house to the southeast corner of the Regent's Park. It was wet, though hardly torrential. The narcissus were handsome; there were blooms on flowering trees; wood pigeons and magpies walked across the lawn. And then, from a tall tree, a voice I knew could belong to neither of the sauntering birds. A minute later, a whir of blue: yes! The blue tit had appeared.

Jeff Goldblum

Does he believe in God? "Uhhm, not in the way I think people... ssss... uhh, do I believe in a figure outside myself, a being, who lives somewhere... where we can't see them who, you know, umm, sends you to heaven or hell... I'm not sure I believe in that bit of it. I, I, I, err, ahh you know... I believe in stillness and spaciousness."

Calochortus uniflorus

Here is a picture of the sort of flower now in bloom in a pot on my south-facing front porch.

BMI

Mine's 20.

http://www.nhlbisupport.com/bmi/

Debt

I owe a report on Alsatian wines, a report on how cute European cars are, a report on the pleasures of salad with cheese. All coming soon. Hard to believe that when I first started writing this weblog I produced several entries a week. What happened?

Facts

-Eating sugar does not make children hyperactive. All that talk about the "sugar high" and the "crash" that follows is bull.
-Eating chocolate does not cause acne.
-In all but a small number of people, ingesting salt has no effect on blood pressure.
-Salad consumption will not reduce the risk of colon cancer.
-Total fat consumption—even consumption of saturated fat—will not raise your cholesterol level.
-Those who are lactose intolerant can consume a glass of whole milk without any discomfort.

Which is better, ice cream or water?

Both are best consumed cold. Both were invented in ancient Egypt. Both are contenders for the Democratic nomination. But there the similarities end.

BM on the marbles

To see how pathetic and tortured the British Museum's reasons for hanging onto the Parthenon marbles are, please click on the title of this entry. "Context"?

Harry

I have one word to describe Harry Nilsson: whimsical.

Travel to Alsace

In one month's time I shall be drinking the greatest wines of Alsace. I won't have much time, so I'll drink them quickly. And then I'll ask an Alsatian cook to make me spätzle, which I'll consume less hurriedly.

My body

Endangered humans

I was listening to a BBC4 interview with Julie Christie. Christie is extraordinary. And so I learned about this short documentary that she'd narrated.

The years (preliminary)

1669: Sonata representativa (H. I. Biber)
1722: Das wohltemperierte Clavier (J. S. Bach)
1762: Orfeo ed Euridice (C. W. Gluck)
1783: Grosse Messe in C Minor (W. A. Mozart)
1791: Die Zauberflöte (W. A. Mozart)
1827: Il Pirata (V. Bellini)
1875: Carmen (G. Bizet)
1913: Le sacre du printemps (I. Stravinsky)
1927: Potato Head Blues (Louis Armstrong)
1941: Quatuor pour la fin du temps (O. Messiaen)
1957: Agon (I. Stravinsky)
1959: So What (M. Davis, B. Evans, C. Adderley, P. Chambers, J. Cobb, J. Coltrane)
1961: All of You (B. Evans Trio)
1963: Talkin' World War III Blues (B. Dylan)
1966: Wild Thing (The Troggs)
1968: In a Station (The Band)
1969: Gimme Shelter (Rolling Stones)
1971: The Wind (Cat Stevens)
1975: The Köln Concert (K. Jarrett)
1977: Watching the Detectives (E. Costello)
1978: White Man in Hammersmith Palais (The Clash)
1979: I Zimbra (Talking Heads)
1981: Themes for Great Cities (Simple Minds)
1993: Past the Mission (T. Amos)
1995: Helicopter String Quartet (K. Stockhausen)
1998: Crawl Back (R. Thompson)
2003: Paranoid Android (B. Mehldau)

Making light

This morning I dressed my wound. I removed yesterday's bandage, applied antibacterial ointment, and began to open a fresh bandage. Bandages come in sealed individual envelopes. You open one by pulling apart two flaps, the loose ends of the two pieces of platicked paper that make the envelope. I was standing in the dark because the sun had not yet risen. As I pulled at the two flaps and the envelope opened, light was released along the unsealing edges. I stopped; the light went out; I continued; the light reappeared. Wonderful.

I fight dirty

25

Here's how I'd describe the playing of Brad Mehldau

Imprecise, adventurous, shy of the dramatic gesture. He'll never do a cover of Richard Thompson's "Hard on me" (one of the angriest songs ever, with two agonized guitar solos wrenched from the diseased pit of murderous despair). He's angular, heading along a road he's never even scouted, trying something he can't quite do but gloriously failing.

Quiz

What do all of these people have in common?

Marcia Wachs Dam
Tosh Junior
Jonelle Niffenegger
Polly Sippy
Hy Speck
Lindy Trigg

Music

There's been some excitement about the rock band Led Zeppelin recently. The guy who sings (Robert Plant, ancient) did a record with a girl who sings (Alison Krauss, middle aged). Also there was a concert this week.
Leads one to think: painful as the Cordula Lippert memory may be for me, this is a truly marvelous band. No one has ever rocked more mightily. Some people think jazz should be one thing (thrilling?), classical another (Apollonian?), folk something else besides, which is tosh. But if you like your rock & roll Dionysian (a word Iggy Pop has to explain to Tom Snyder here), then surrender to the Zepp.

Here's how I'd describe the playing of Kenny Barron

Architectural, yet full of surprises. Bill Evans had the power of enchantment; Barron thrills me. He seems utterly in control, utterly composed, utterly sly. And there is considerable soulfulness.

Antonioni does the great debate

By taking the terms of the debate quite literally in his masterpiece, Blow-up, Michelangelo Antonioni showed that he sided with Sandburg.

Frost, belittling Sandburg: "Writing free verse is like playing tennis with the net down."

Sandburg, replying insufferably: "The poet that without imagination or folly enough to play tennis by serving and returning the ball over an invisible net may see himself as highly disciplined. There have been poets who could and did play more than one game of tennis with unseen rackets, volleying airy and fantastic balls over an insubstantial net, on a frail moonlit fabric of a court."

Reworking a piece of work

Author, actor and male model Fabio says U.S. Senator Hillary Clinton is his candidate of choice for U.S President. In an online interview, he explained Clinton's virtues: "She's, you know, my biggest reward, because I would love to have two success with her, with a woman president. And so it will be, to me, forgetting the first time I love the women I owe one to. Women: you're smart."

Species

What is a species? Am I one? Have I one on my tongue? Will my offspring be a different species from me? Are there species in outer space?

Bangladesh

Bangladesh exists to remind us that if there is a god, it should be crucified.

Dream of apples

This morning I dreamed that I was visiting a secret neighborhood in San Francisco. Hidden somewhere near Twelfth and Lake is a long country road, with handsome houses to either side, and at the end a house inhabited by Kelly Jo Maynard. I was driving along this dirt road and stopped to look at the house. I recalled that I'd been in it before. I parked and as I got out of my car I wondered whether it would be okay to go inside--it was evident no one was about. I remembered that I used to visit it without permission, while the inhabitants were away, long ago. I stood on the porch, then walked back to my car, seeing apples in an apple tree on the west side of the road. And a black man walking along a road that struck out up the hill to the west. I admired the apples. I saw that I had left my car door open. I closed it and walked back to the house and entered. I walked through the kitchen to a desk. From the bookcase next to the desk I took some of Kelly Jo's cassette tapes and played a recording of Bob Dylan and Joan Baez. The house was very empty. I was calmly putting tapes back in a fashion I thought Kelly Jo would approve when I took fright. I headed for the door just as some people were arriving. I opened the door before them and passed out, saying "Hello." The group of three young European (?) bohemians, two men and a woman, replied to my greeting quite calmly. Maybe they were guests of the house. I ran. I ran as fast as I could to my car, but it took ever so long to get to it.

I had dinner with this woman (click here)

Her house is full of damaged animals, not all of them human.

Sohcahtoa

The cars go one way, the leaves another
As the wind brushes east,
Taking what the trees cast off.

I'm not quite ready, my thoughts a disorder
Of ambition unspent,
Plans beginning where I leave off.

Another rattling, shushing gust.

A Sunday alone is that uncountable blessing
At age forty-three, when my untattooed,
Childless arms reach for books, music, lunch,
In the sunlit trigonometry of home.

---------Where things make sense in terms of
What's not here.

Howard & Sam

Thanks to Gina, I can display the picture. Click on it if you'd like a larger view.

Identity

I could not stop staring at a picture on the front page of yesterday's Financial Times. It shows two men in their forties, bespectacled, struggling with two policemen. One of the men has his arm around the other; a policeman is pulling at his other arm, as if he means to drag him away. The scene is Pakistan, probably Lahore; the two men in glasses are probably lawyers. They are part of the protests against the imposition on Saturday night of martial law. As I stared and stared I thought to myself, "Those two men are me and Howard." It would be easy for me and Howard to be that outraged, that angry. And we have been out on the streets to protest our leaders' lawless behavior, but we've been lucky, and policemen have yet to try to drag us away.

I tried to find the photo on the Internet, but I failed. The one I present here is a weak approximation.

Me & meat while asleep

I have a recurrent dream in which I eat meat. I used to dream about smoking. So I'm dreaming about doing the two things that I've decided never to do. The meat is never especially appetizing in the dream, but it's not disgusting. Last night it was a hamburger. I took the meat patty and a bun and placed them on a barbecue grill. Then I sort of realized I don't eat meat.

The artist at work

Flaming bike

Me and the lovedog

Here we are.

Kitaj has died

I like his paintings and drawings and prints.

Cork is good

The Carbon Footprint of Wine Closures

Natural cork with PVC capsule: 11.2 tons of CO₂ per million units

Fake cork with PVC capsule: 24.7 tons of CO₂ per million units

Screwcap from 70% recycled aluminum: 35.9 tons of CO₂ per million units

Glass bottle: 183 tons of CO₂ per million units

[Reported in Decanter, Nov. 2007, p. 45.]

Echidnas

Comments on Into the Wild

For all the time that we spend with Christopher McCandless, he does not emerge as much but a stubborn nature lover with an aversion to bourgeois American life. There is a reason for this: he could pass for any of us. Sexless, a bit bland, utterly conventional in his choice of unconventional heroes (Tolstoy, Thoreau, Pasternak), this kid is a stand-in for everyone who ever considered quitting a job or running a marathon. And because he's—in all respects but one—so very ordinary, he is immediately loved by all who spend time with him: they just project onto him whatever is missing from their lives (generally a lost loved one). In this he resembles the religious figures who've absorbed so many adoring, desperate gazes.

But unlike Jesus and Siddhartha, who were no friends of the nuclear family, this lad's moment of enlightenment, the delayed acknowledgment that kindly old Ron Franz spoke a truth worthy of Morgan Freeman, is an affirmation of the importance of human community, people, family.

The story involves some deep questions, but it's a story with little in the way of event, so the movie's writer and director, Sean Penn, has crafted a complex interweaving of narratives, with various voiceovers, McCandless's postcards and journal, and even grainy footage of events that don't fit into either of the two main narrative strands: events that took place in McCandless's childhood.

I found the story moving in spite of Penn's unfortunate indulgence in narrative overload and lots of fancy camerawork and editing to convey some sense of (1) McCandless's cognitive meltdown on Los Angeles's skid row and (2) McCandless's death by starvation. So elaborate was the first that I thought for a bit that our hero had taken a puff on some crackhead's pipe; so long had the movie been going on by the second that I just gritted my teeth. As I say, I was moved. We all should be, because we're all guilty of the sort of complacency that McCandless never for a moment endured. We all put off our Great Alaskan Adventures, and so we, unlike McCandless, bathe regularly, chat, go to church, eat foods killed for us by others, survive. Many think that they can escape from the dullness such a life generates by trekking in Nepal or picking grapes in Burgundy or finding God, but I suspect that these mean less than not much. Some people, no matter whether they're mopping floors or teaching autistic kids to read, are simply, in every moment, utterly alive. Most live lives of quiet desperation.

Reasons for carrying on

Music. To be more precise, the songs of Mariza, Joni Mitchell, Tori Amos, Harry Nilsson, The Elected, Heaven 17, and The Band. The melodies of Brahms. The splendor of Art Pepper. The sublime majesty of Johann Bach.

Masterpieces. Such as those by Ozu Yasujiro, Robert Bresson, Val Lewton, Jacques Tourneur, Wang Kar-wai, 成龍, Caravaggio, Caro, Newman, Newman.

Friends. You know who you are and who you are not.

Lotus blossoms.

The scent of my nape.

The thought that some day there may be another dog as fine as Cuchulain.

Carver

Tess Gallagher: keeping the sacred flame burning. New edition: ho-hum. D. T. Max: my hero.

侯孝賢計劃拍武狹片

不可思意。

The Supreme Court and Khaled el-Masri

These are happy days for torturers in America. The Supreme Court has implicitly supported the CIA's black operations and extraordinary renditions program by refusing to hear the ACLU's appeal in El Masri vs. Tenet. While the Roberts court was eager to slap Mr. Bush's wrist over Guantanamo, it will do nothing to protect innocent Muslims from being abducted and tortured by an organ of the US government. As a sort of functional definition, no state secret can be of greater importance than justice.
I understand the idea of a social calculus, and the need to weigh the security of a nation against the rights of an individual and the others whose fates would be judicially linked to his through precedent, but I do not understand how operations that are prima facie violations of international law can be construed as defensible elements of national security.

The week of Angela Hewitt

A Bach specialist, Angela Hewitt will be playing the piano in Berkeley on three nights during the coming week and I'll be there for every show. I decided to indulge--plus it's an excuse to see Scott and (I hope) Nat. Hewitt is not a fiery player or a strong-willed interpreter, but she makes pure, gorgeous, thoughtful music. And it's the Well-Tempered Clavier!

My map

create your own visited countries map

Hey!

Am I the only person who laughs hysterically on listening to a seal speak?

Burma is burning

I was taught to avoid the name Myanmar, the creation of SLORC, the junta that has ruled the country for two decades. Here we face a classic dilemma: what can democratic states do when corrupt and evil rulers kill nonviolent partisans of democracy? Aung San Suu Kyi says to use sanctions, but manifestly they do not work, since passing up economic opportunities means nothing when there are other states (i.e., China) quite prepared to overlook Shwe & Co.'s filthy record of oppression, ethnic cleansing, etc. As long as Burma has an army of 400,000 ignorant butchers, it hardly matters that 400,000 brave and well organized monks are willing to march: nothing will come of it. In the absence of a global consensus (such a thing will never exist), and as long as France, China, the United States and others facilitate oppression by participating wholeheartedly in the global sale of small arms, I believe that there is only one alternative to scolding and waiting. I think it a mistake to refuse to have full diplomatic and economic relations with other states, because the place where we can make a difference is through trade, though economic incentives. If we've already blockaded a harbor, threatening a bigger blockade sounds pretty thin. Only when we're buying lots of your oil and gas and teak do you want to take our call in the middle of a very dark night.

Apology

To all those who may call in the next twenty minutes: "I'm sorry, but I'm sleepy, and I'm going to bed now."

Inventory of shoes

I don't have very many, but what I have is of the very highest quality.
-black rubber boots (two pairs, bought 1990 and 2006)
-black flipflops bought at Yamaguchi on Sawtelle (bought 2004)
-black Yogui slip-ons from Keen (bought 2007)
-red Newport H2 sandals from Keen (two pairs, bought 2005 and 2007)
-orange and black trail runners (bought 2007)
-blue & grey drawstring trail runners from Salomon (bought 2005)
-lace-up cordovan dress shoes from Brooks Brothers (bought 1997)
-black plain-toe lace-up dress shoes from Allen Edmonds (bought 1990)
-black sandals from Church (bought 1993)
-snakeproof bottes sauvages from Gokey (bought 1980)
The last four are all made from animal hide.

John Escreet playing "Bemsha Swing"

Escreet has his own website, but the content is quite limited. Take a look at this.

Come on: how often do you see a YouTube clip that's only been viewed 122 times?

Kwansaba for Alan

My cousin, the one who knows froth,
Alerted me to your recent two cents
And warned me you were going on
About bubbles and froth, froth and bubbles.
Froth is more than one bubble, quotha,
But one bubble can from froth come.
Open a bottle, former chair, daoist sage.

Seeing the light

Briefly: I always disliked Bob Dylan's music, with the exception of a single album that my parents had in the house from my infancy. Then I watched Scorsese's documentary and found there were songs I liked a great deal. The post-crash music can't interest me much, but I am utterly blown away by the energy, the Rabelaisian wildness, of "The Freewheelin' BD." Something of that feeling surfaces in a strange, long song on "Time out of Mind" called "Highlands," but having listened to "Love & Theft," I just don't see much in the new music.

Pairing up after prime time

If Dave and Oprah can hug and make up, so can the Sunnis and Shiites. But why waste the time and money? According to the GAO and Bain & Co's Steve Ellis, the dollars would be far better spent in a massive bombing campaign. It is estimated that five days of intensive bombing could eliminate 75% of the population of Iran, drive a remaining 15% into neighboring countries, and convert the remaining 10% to a cretinous caste of slaves. For a mere $1.5 billion, the oil resources of a country made up of terrorists and generally bad people could become the solution to America's biggest headache, namely, the problem of withdrawing troops from a country where subsequent violence might tarnish America's global reputation.

A solution

Let's bomb Iran, kill everyone there, then move the Sunni Iraqis there. Then we can supervise an Iraqi election in which Moqtada al-Sadr is elected and withdraw all coalition troops from Iraq. If there are any bombs left, let's bomb Gaza. It would be good to bomb the West Bank too, but what if we hit a settlement by mistake? That would be a tragedy.

In memoriam

The people killed in Manhattan.
The people killed in Washington, DC.
The people killed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

Every human being in Afghanistan killed by American bullets, shells, missiles, and bombs.
Every human being in Iraq killed by American bullets, shells, missiles, and bombs.

My heroine and heroes

I am not among those who cite their mothers as their greatest heroes. Mothers are a dime a dozen, some good, some shit. Even the greatest of mothers can produce murderous little lads and lasses and it's just not their fault. I like to be able to trace etiology a bit more reliably. Thoreau is a great hero of mine. He was stubborn, decent, peevish, poetic and did not hesitate to take up a minority position. Balzac, because of the great intensity of his commitment, I admire. He handled his money and his love affairs foolishly; he was unstinting in the labor needed to create a simulacrum of the real world; he understood women as well as he did men. Pablo Picasso, Anthony Caro and David Smith, who enabled us to enjoy the world in very new ways. Virginia Woolf, whose voice is unthinkable, wrote an essay so beautiful, so strong, so marvelously angry, relying on a cat without a tail, an imaginary sister, and an ear for language few have matched.

Things this blog will never mention

Frida Kahlo
Walter Benjamin
Giorgio Agamben
Harry Potter
the credit crunch
George Clooney
Agnes Martin
Bjork
The iPhone
sous vide
Annie Lebowitz
that/which
Burning Man
CGI
chickens
PTSD
The White Stripes
The Mars Volta
fado
twittering
labradoodles
the death of professional tennis
Barack Obama
global warming
string theory
free-range anything
grass-fed anything
microbullage
the evils of bottling water

poem

Pillows for Howard

They float and fall like lumpen clouds
A fat woman's bosom for his undyed locks

Ambition

I also want to be a pioneering preview critic. I'll review movie previews, including classics, and acquire the world's largest collection of previews. And I'll finally give the geniuses who direct, edit, choose music for, and narrate movie previews the respect and recognition they deserve.

My calling

I've finally confronted my fate: I am going to become the next David Frost. But better, of course. I'm starting by interviewing everyone I know, and I'm going to place the interviews on YouTube. This is going to generate tremendous buzz, leading to a major network deal.

Thank you, Eugene, for alerting me to my talent as we walked across a parking lot in Hawaiian Gardens.

I want you to love Junior Senior

tinyurl.com/29bdvk

I want you to love baby Jesus

tinyurl.com/34u8x9

Things the cats say to me

“Art is an abstraction; derive that abstraction from nature by dreaming before her.”
"Pay attention to the silhouette of each object; a clear outline is the prerogative of a hand that is not paralyzed by a faltering will."

Things I say to the cats

Hello, gravel rollers!
Come on in out of the cold.
Don't drink that water--it's gross!
Come here, kitcat.
Off.
You made the seat sooo warm!
That's unacceptable.
Peaceful kingdom.
You are a love bucket.
Don't be a brat.
Do you like the possum?
Are the fleas falling from you like black rain?
What are you doing?
It's all right.
Are you OK?
You're funny.
It's OK.
Bye.