A voice for animals at The Lancet

An editorial in vol. 373, issue 9679 (June 2009) of The Lancet emphasizes the need to think carefully about the rights of animals before designing experiments. Only in England, the birthplace of the animal rights movement, would such a compassionate essay appear in a leading medical journal.

Though their results are of dubious value, many scientists now use transgenic mice to study human diseases. It seems that transgenic primates are next up for slicing and dicing. I am opposed to all animal testing, so I was heartened when the author of the editorial mentioned Pope's great essay, "Against Barbarity to Animals" in which appears the following precept: "The more entirely the inferior creation is submitted to our power, the more answerable we should seem for our mismanagement of it."

My backpack

In 1986 I went to Taiwan for the first time. A few months after my arrival, I bought a blue Rhino brand backpack from a shop near the Taipei train station. I can't remember owning a backpack before that time, but I suppose I must have. Still, for me the Rhino bag was the first backpack in my life that mattered. When I traveled to China with my sister Jenny in 1988, I carried only that backpack, often with an enamel cup dangling from a clip. The bag imposed a limit on what I could take, and I respected that limit, even when I realized that I'd need to buy warm gloves and boots in Chengdu if I was going to spend time with pandas in Jiuzhaigou. The only thing I did not manage to fit into the backpack was the Tibetan coat two American women I met in the Sichuan alps insisted I buy; that was fine, since it was so cold I was always either wearing the coat or sleeping under it.

In Los Angeles the backpack served me well. Every day I rode my old ten-speed from Lincoln and Cedar to UCLA, showered, took my change of clothes out of my bag, went to class, changed back to my shorts and t-shirt, and rode home. Sometimes, on the way home, I stopped at Rhino Records, where the backpack often elicited happy comment.

In 1996 I went to Taiwan for the third time. I had no money. The point was to do nothing but study at the Stanford Center, and had it not been for my friends Jennifer Rudolph and 祝平一, I'd have subsisted on little but soymilk and rice porridge that summer. I brought the Rhino bag, carried it from Yonghe to Tai Da every day, and then, at the end of the school term, I retired a very weary backpack and, at that store near the train station, bought a second blue Rhino backpack.

The second bag has been to New Zealand with me, back to Taiwan, to France, to New York, and has carried my groceries from stores in Venice, Santa Monica, West Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Petaluma. Not just groceries: loads of laundry, sacks of horse shit, library books, duct tape and fabric for capture the flag, bottles of wine, and my pruning equipment. More than once I've repaired it, passing a very large needle through the seam where shoulder straps meet bag, and those straps are not going to come undone any time soon. I need the thing to work because I'm one of those people who rarely leaves the house without draping a backpack over my shoulders, though I'll admit it does not go well with my old Peter Tilton suits.

The zipper that fastens the main compartment is not what it once was. This may mean retiring the bag. I am loath to do this, and it is not likely that I'll be making a trip to Taipei this summer. I managed to coax the zipper into sealing a load of laundry last night, but I was anxious that at any moment my turtlenecks would spring from the bag with the impetus of a parachute. For now I'm using an old bag of my dad's to carry my lunch to work, and even that feels a bit like betrayal. The old Rhino bag, limp, a jellyfish on the beach, lies on the bedroom floor, beseeching me to make a decision. But I can't.

ADDENDUM: I bought this:

Dolphins are still neat

The following is a passage from one of John C. Lilly's early studies of bottlenose dolphins:

"When a female and a male dolphin are confined in a relatively small area in captivity, the courting behavior is rather violent. If they are isolated with a movable barrier between them, they will resolve all kinds of problems in order to be together, e.g., opening a gate to gain access to another pool and closing it behind them. As soon as they are together they start pursuit games. The initial phases of this behavior appear violent and can continue for the first 24 hours. If the female is not receptive, the male continues to chase her, exhibits erections, rubs against her, and tries to induce her to accept him. They bite one another, they scratch each other's bodies with their teeth. During the mating procedure; they will develop lesions practically everywhere on their bodies specifically on the flippers, on the back, on the flukes, on the peduncle, and around the head region.

"The erection in the male occurs with extreme rapidity. We have observed and timed it in our own tanks: it is something on the order of three seconds to completion, from the time the penis first appears in the slit. It can collapse almost as rapidly, and it looks almost as if it were being done in a voluntary fashion. It is very easy to condition a dolphin to have an erection. The stimulus, for example, can be a single visual signal. One trainer chose to raise his arm vertically as a signal, and the dolphin would turn over and erect his penis in response. If Elvar, one of our dolphins, is alone and a small ring, about a foot in diameter and an inch thick, is tossed into the water, he will have an erection, with his penis lift it off the bottom and tow it around the tank."

Heroism

I don't have many heroes. Thoreau I revere for his love of truth and of beauty; Coleridge I think the greater for all his shortcomings. But I do have a passionate belief that heroes must be courageous. And I do not call shooting three men who pose no threat to you courageous. The assassins aboard the USS Bainbridge were not heroes; they were technicians. Their performance was not daring; it was as routine as a city worker emptying a garbage can. Only a nation obsessed with carnage and starved for military success could celebrate Easter by cheering the deaths of three thieves.

The Alexandria Quartet

I read Durrell's collection when I was in my mid-twenties and was ravished. Today I am less naive, less satisfied by the lazy repetitions, the obsessive obsessing. Still, the achievement, the singularly narcissistic—in its way, far more narcissistic than the unreadable diaries of Nin—quartet, with its mirrors, its scrapbook approach to novelizing, is impossible to dismiss. It is one of the last great acts of Orientalism.

Recognition

It's like seeing sky after years in a closet. Suddenly it's there, and you know it's sky, and it can't be anything else but sky, and there is absolutely nothing better. That's what it means to experience a work of art made by hands born to the task. Often the finished product is far from perfect: so it is with the movie I watched tonight, after quitting a piece of hack work with not a convincing moment in it. It makes little sense to say that someone was born to make movies: it's like saying a cat was born to curl up on my lap. But certain sensibilities do find their finest expression, today, in making people move around and make sounds in front of a camera and some lights and a team of people holding their breath until the scene is over. Tavernier is a recent discovery of mine, and Coup de torchon is a far better work than Ça commence aujourd'hui, which is often preachy and relies too much on cute kids and extreme situations, but it is also wonderful, real, impassioned, hopeful, sad. Still, I felt a disappointment every time the immaculately beautiful Maria Pitarresi appeared: she belonged on a billboard advertising lipstick, and making her a sculptor was another false note. Her looks clashed painfully with the utterly convincing homeliness of the schoolteachers and the slatternly mothers of the kindergarteners. One longed for her scenes to end, so that we might see the scarred and cloud-smeared sky again.

With

Things I have:

lamps
books in foreign tongues
a Tibetan coat
an automobile
100 bottles of wine
preserved lemons
cross-country skis
two bicycles
pens
50 cookbooks
a diploma
deer antler
a vacuum cleaner
2 cleavers bought in Taipei in 1986
spices
teas
photocopied Qing military examination records
lots of records and compact discs
a MiniDisc recorder
dozens of videotapes and DVDs
a sleeping bag
5 pillows
dog toys
the lock from Fred's storage unit in southern California
pictures of Eloise and Lucy and Itzhak
nice cotton shirts
a Brioni suit
other suits
bow ties
a garden hose

Without

Things I do not have:

a cellular telephone
a Blackberry
an iPod
a Wii
a laptop
a big TV
a cable connection
a dog
a baby
debt
a digital camera
a garage
a washing machine
a dishwasher
hired help
self-control
trackmarks
a tattoo
a piercing
discursive flexibility
a table saw
a Ph.D.
Harry Potter books
a couch
a pocket knife
a pirate costume
facial hair
a brother
a leather jacket
a yoga mat
cocktail glasses
a firearm
issues

Baboon vocalizations

Thanks to a kind communication from Dorothy Cheney, one of the authors of the magisterial and utterly fascinating Baboon Metaphysics, I've been listening to a variety of calls made by male and female baboons.

Males use forceful and deep vocalizations, called "wahoos," to assert dominance: rather than attack each other, two males in conflict launch into wahoo contests. The animal who can produce sustained, resonant calls while leaping about is fitter, and this display settles differences without the need for high-risk fights.

Here is a wahoo or two, both from Cheney's research section of the University of Pennsylvania website.

(The second compares a high-ranking male's call with that of a low-ranking male.)

Cheney and Robert Seyfarth's long-term study is a remarkable example of profoundly humane science. No animals are intentionally harmed: the scholars and their assistants observe baboons in the wild, relying on stool samples, for instance, to analyze stress levels in individuals.

Poem

By a Roadside

Waking from drear dreams, a dozen robins
In a bare tree.

To count them all, without wanton addition,
Address their silhouettes.

Their shivers and upruffled shoulders
Speak of spring.

An engine throbs past, robbing them
Of something spoken.

A scrub jay peers through lead leaves
Cocking his mutter.

Half a dozen now, no wetter, no colder,
Waiting for an ending.

Allen Ginsberg writing about fucking boys

All Ye Brave Boys

Come all you young men that proudly display
Your torsos to the sun on upper Broadway
Come sweet hearties so mighty with girls
So lithe and naked to kiss their gold curls
Come beautiful boys with breasts bright gold
Lie down with me in bed ere ye grow old,
Take down your blue jeans, we'll have some raw fun
Lie down on your bellies I'll fuck your soft bun.

And so on for three more stanzas full of "studs," "sturdy cocks," "tight assed," "come in your butt" et cetera. He really did produce a lot of tosh, that Ginsberg. And there's no excuse in his remark that he wrote this at 4 a.m. It's simply not a civilized time to be writing a poem.

Twenty-two years later he wrote

I am the King of the Universe
I am the Messiah with a new dispensation
Excuse me I stepped on a nail.

This is possibly even worse. He's like a photographer who elaborately printed and framed every single out-of-focus snapshot he ever took.

Destroy your cell phone

Evidence is increasing that cellular telephones are a direct line to Satan. (More fun if you start the two clips at the same time.)

Saint Valentine's Day entry

For as long as he could remember, Sam had accompanied every meal worthy of the name with a small salad of julienned baked tofu and cilantro dressed with lime juice, sesame oil, soy sauce, salt and black pepper. Today is no exception.

Last night's dream: a love affair with a soft blond woman whose front yard needed work and afterward was bare dirt and tree trunks. She knew her neighbors. I kissed her by drawing her lips into my mouth and holding them there. When I went inside she and Bono were watching her music video, which was a single close-up black and white shot of her hair being blown about. I said something about her fans.

John Updike was a fussy writer, but unlike so many of his epigones, he was able to write the occasional sentence that did not have the padding of artistic adjectives. Memories of the Ford Administration.

Is there an English word that does not rhyme with "pish"?

What Nat and I cooked

(1) Cucumber onion salad
(2) Watercress sesame salad
(3) Taro watercress soup
(4) Braised shiitakes with Shaoxing wine
(5) Lotus root stew with tomato and fennel
(6) Noodles with bean paste and shiitake sauce

We drank California wines with dinner, after Nat and I swilled a Nigl grüner veltliner as we cooked.

恭喜發財

一帆風順， 二龍騰飛，三羊開泰， 四季平安， 五福臨門， 六六大順， 七星高 照，八方來財， 九九同心， 十全十美，百事亨通， 千事吉祥，萬事如意

fuggery, aka "In the great bowling alley of your mind, I am your pinboy"

Last year I bought a biography of Allen Ginsberg and a big, handsome collection of his poems. The poetry is magnificent, funny, wild, and it goes on and on. Reading about AG, I saw he was a gentle apostle of love and pot, a tamer of Hells Angels, traveler, experimenter. One has to love him.

Two days ago, home from work a bit early, I walked over to Vinyl Planet and bought some videotapes (The Hand that Rocks the Cradle, 9 1/2 Weeks, Who Am I?) and some records (Bob Dorough, Enrico Rava, X). I got an album by The Fugs, and Allen Ginsberg, who used to open every poetry reading by chanting "Hare Krishna," does just that on this marvelous Fugs record. (It also has a picture of a naked AG inside.)

I think The Fugs are good.

Edges

I am drawn to the places where built meets natural. Gardens, the surfaces of buildings, the tidal zone under bayside houses. Such places are forever incomplete: I take on the role of finishing. Sometimes gardens work different degrees of built into a web. The statues of Cervantes, Emmet, Verdi and Key, no matter how rusticated their plinths, impress me as more fashioned even than the pollarded London plane trees on the music concourse.

New year's resolutions

During 2009 I hope to write an opera entitled "The Marbles," write a screenplay entitled "The Lynx," find a new job, read "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire," Boswell's journals and as much as I can stand of "Capital," see spring blossoms in Point Reyes and Ring Mountain, listen most attentively to Purcell and Haydn, and look the world in the face.

A certain angle

I want to present a new ethics that responds to biological and cultural drives. I don't believe that an appeal to nature justifies human behavior. We stand outside nature, though our shadows are sucked into it. Culture with a history that stands outside of our genes, culture that involves planning and reflecting, is possible only when we forget much of our animal being. Animals are not peaceful. Animals are not wise. Animals do not settle for a reasonable amount. Animals simply are: there is no point assigning emotional descriptors to them.

I also want to appeal to scholars to remember that every document is produced for a different audience and with a different attitude toward that document. People who study books and words too often forget that it is extremely difficult to compare a book Virginia Woolf wrote when she was young to one she wrote when she was no longer young: not only had Woolf changed, her attitude toward what she was writing and who was reading it changed. This must be considered at every turn.

Not I

Ballast installation

Click on subject heading.

The sheet looks marvelously shiny in the rain.

When I saw it yesterday, the surface details were beautiful, especially along the edges on the eastern sheet.

doorkijkje

I flirt with life.

Purchase

I buy things because I like making things happen. Money moves things and people around.

Film

A few of my favorite places

I live in a town of sixteen thousand people, mostly Euro-white and Latino, with a few visas granted to those who run and staff the handful of mediocre Chinese restaurants. People drive pickups or Priuses. We're on the border between redneck and California liberal.

Years from now I'll ennoble the railroad tracks, the empty lot with oaks and fearful housecats, the footbridge over the river. For now, though, my topophiliac thoughts drift to a bay, a financial zone, a Hyde Park playground viewed from a garage roof.

There are places that lift my spirits. Places are more reliable than people because it takes more to kill them, they're always there when you need them, they never say mean things. And there's a marvelous blend of the predictable and the chance: you know that if you walk along Battery between three and four the light will enchant, the architectural sculptures will cast handsome shadows, the flags atop the Embarcadero and a few other tall towers will be backlit; but you don't know which way the breezes will twitch, who will pass you in alligator boots, what unexpected Chinatown scent will slap you.

115 million annually

The following is a quotation from a report announced in August:

The Dr Hadwen Trust and the British Union for the Abolition of Vivisection have collaborated on a major new initiative to produce the first ever statistical analysis of global animal research numbers, the results of which have been published in peer-reviewed journal ATLA1.

Our research reveals that an estimated 115 million animals are used in laboratory experiments around the world each year. However even this massive figure could be an underestimate due to the way figures are compiled.

Despite widespread public and political interest in animal research worldwide, our research reveals that a mere 21% of countries (37 out of 179 countries) actually collect data on their national animal experiments. For the rest, no official record is kept of the animals used in their laboratories or the suffering that they might have endured.

Rules

1. No parent shall ever call a child a disappointment or indicate any disappointment that is not sympathetic.

2. Strangers in need shall be assisted.

3. Efforts shall be made to avoid boring others.

4. Except in cases of immediate self-defense, nonhuman animals shall not be killed or otherwise harmed.

5. Weapons shall be destroyed.

6. Inheritance shall be abolished and gifts shall be carefully scrutinized.

7. A minister of language shall identify tiresome turns of phrase.

8. Humans who whine shall be beaten.

9. Water and petroleum shall be heavily taxed.

10. Sunsets shall be admired.

Picture of me in my Hallowe'en costume

the Truths

At every moment, in every place, a variety of incompatible truths circulate. Nowadays we've got the biological truth, the Catholic truth, the born again truth, the New Age truths, and the postmodernist nontruths. And many, many others. You can't really subscribe to more than two or three without becoming an ontological mess. I happen to be partial to mainstream, rational, academic truths. I believe in that which can be demonstrated by means of the conventional sciences and epistemologies. If the size of the universe, the speed of light, the limits of human machinations, the breadth of my knowledge can't make room for an idea, I reject it mercilessly. Hence my disdain for God, UFOs, ghosts, many conspiracies, terroir, and one thousand other jolly illusions. But I suspect that my predilection for the demonstrable is ultimately little more than class bias. When I endorse checking New Age truths against academic truths, I am baffled when I try to explain the ultimate benefit of subscribing to my truth. What is the value of finding out what an Oxonian scholar or a Nobel winner said if one is delighted by the assertions of a guy with a website? Even if I could convince every man, woman, and child who had ever stepped into the Salt Lake LDS Temple that Joseph Smith was an arrant knave, what would be the point? How would it benefit them?

Dumb Democrats

I am amused every few years by the partisan frenzy that sweeps over my otherwise politically apathetic friends. All of a sudden the Republican candidates are execrable, horrifying, satanic. No appreciation at all of how close the two big parties are, and how unlikely either of them is to undo any of the fundamental injustices and inequalities that make America great. So this year's target has been Sarah Palin. She makes even a dumbshit like Biden look good. But he has not ceased to make unfathomably asinine statements.

Juggling

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."