In A Christmas Carol, the Ghost of Christmas Present warns Scrooge, “I see a vacant seat . . . in the poor chimney-corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, the child will die.”

The dystopian imagination of our modern Jeremiahs observes today’s shadows and projects them into the future. George Orwell, foreseeing an omnipresent bureaucracy, gave us 1984; Aldous Huxley, foreseeing life stripped of meaning through medication, gave us Brave New World. The movie WALL*E is also a dystopian fantasy, and perhaps the strongest influence on it is another dystopian view of the future, H.G. Wells’s The Time Machine. [Here be spoilers] Read the rest of this entry »

Hubbard posted this at 9:37 AM HKT on Monday, July 7th, 2008 as Belles Lettres, Film Rants, Philosophy

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When asked how the human race should communicate to aliens, biologist Lewis Thomas said, “I would vote for Bach, all of Bach, streamed out into space, over and over again. We would be bragging, of course, but it is surely excusable to put the best possible face on at the beginning of such an acquaintance. We can tell the harder truths later.”

When the Voyager spacecraft carried music representative of the earth, Bach was the most represented artist.  One of the selections was Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 in F Major.  Interestingly, the Brandenburg Concerto was originally part of a job application on Bach’s part.  From Wiki [emphasis added]:

Bach’s best-known orchestral works are the Brandenburg concertos, so named because he submitted them in the hope of gaining employment from Margrave Christian Ludwig of Brandenburg-Schwedt in 1721; his application was unsuccessful.

Perhaps the finest concertos in all music, and Bach was turned down.  Today’s job applicants, take note: some of your interviewers may be almost as clueless as Margrave Ludwig.

Hubbard posted this at 2:32 PM HKT on Thursday, June 19th, 2008 as Belles Lettres, Excruciatingly Correct Behavior

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Flashman, by George MacDonald Fraser

A hero possessing Hector’s bravery, Sydney Carton’s loyalty, and Frederick Wentworth’s constancy would have virtues nearly equal the vices of Harry Flashman, Fraser’s anti-hero and a man who gives cads and cowards everywhere a bad name.

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Tom posted this at 10:47 PM HKT on Wednesday, May 7th, 2008 as Belles Lettres

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Forgive the length of this post but, inspired by Amber, I am taking the 50-Book Challenge this year. I encourage a liberal interpretation of the scope and subject of this post in the comment thread.

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Tom posted this at 1:36 AM HKT on Tuesday, April 1st, 2008 as Belles Lettres

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The waiter has a post up about sex that relies somewhat on your imagination:

“Ha!” Chimo says in the teasing sing song voice of a grade-schooler who knows the meaning of a sexual term before his playmates do. “You don’t know what a deluxe blowjob is.”

I’m going to be forty in a few weeks. I was getting hummers while Chimo still was crapping in his pants. I seriously doubt he knows something about oral sex that I don’t. But to humor him, I ask. “Okay, explain it.”

Chimo gives me his descriptive explanation. I won’t get into it here. Suffice to say it’s sophomoric — and sort of disgusting.

For a certain breed of humor, especially when the joke relies on creative (or disgusting) sex, letting the reader use his imagination is important, since whatever the reader imagines is apt to be more wild than anything the dedicated jokester can come up with.  For example, here’s one of my favorite Catholic priest jokes:

The day after her wedding, Mary came home to her mother.  Her mother couldn’t quite get what went wrong on the wedding night, and only knew that it had something to do with sex.  Begging her daughter to reconsider, she took the daughter to see the village priest.  The priest asked what had happened, and the daughter whispered into his ear.  He turned pale, and said, “You were right to leave!  For that, God destroyed Sodom.”

The mother was discouraged, but she decided to get a second opinion, and they went to see the bishop.  The daughter whispered into the bishop’s ear what her husband had requested, and his beard went whiter.  “Absolutely not!  For that, God destroyed Gomorrah!”

Desperate, the mother decided that the third try would be the charm, so she took her daughter to see the cardinal.  The daughter whispered into the cardinal’s ear what was requested on the wedding night, and the cardinal grinned and said, “Nothing wrong with that.  Just try it and have fun.”

“But what about my priest and the bishop?” asked the thunderstruck daughter.

The cardinal replied, “What do those small town guys know about big city sex?”

[Incidentally, I've noticed a few different reactions---one nice, one intellectual, and one normal (that is to say, mine)---to this joke: (1) that the cardinal has heard more confessions and therefore knows more about sex than his underlings; (2) that the cardinal has a past like St. Augustine, who once prayed, "Lord, grant me chastity and continence---but not yet; (3) geez, that cardinal is a slut.]

Alas, it appears that the power of imagination is waning.  After dozens of comments asking what a deluxe bj is, the urban dictionary now has a definition. 

Hubbard posted this at 4:56 PM HKT on Monday, March 31st, 2008 as Belles Lettres, Excruciatingly Correct Behavior, Humor

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The New York Times has an interesting article about Christopher Nolan and The Dark Knight that dovetails our debates a few weeks ago nicely.

His Caped Crusader, Christian Bale (who also starred in Mr. Nolan’s entr’acte between the Batman films, “The Prestige”), recalls how “people would kind of laugh” when they heard that he and Mr. Nolan were taking Batman seriously. But when they finally saw the film, the same people “would say, ‘What a surprise,’ “ Mr. Bale said. “I believe that even the most popcornlike movie can be done incredibly well, and can have something that you really have to work at. That was what attracted me to doing it the first time, because I felt I’d never seen that done, and I didn’t understand why.”

It’s enough to make a marketing executive cringe, that the word “dense” pops up in conversations with Mr. Nolan and his actors. But it’s true: “The Dark Knight,” which will be released on July 18, is jammed with characters, plot and action. It picks up where “Batman Begins” left off, with Mr. Oldman’s police lieutenant, Jim Gordon, warning about the perils of escalation: that Batman’s extreme measures could invite a like response from the criminal element. And sure enough, a deadly new villain, the Joker, emerges to wreak havoc.

In a political context this would politely be called an “unintended consequence.” (Gotham as Baghdad, anyone?) Mr. Nolan doesn’t deny the overtones. “As we looked through the comics, there was this fascinating idea that Batman’s presence in Gotham actually attracts criminals to Gotham, attracts lunacy,” he said. “When you’re dealing with questionable notions like people taking the law into their own hands, you have to really ask, where does that lead? That’s what makes the character so dark, because he expresses a vengeful desire.”

That dig into the Iraq War is a bit stretched but it’s a good read.

Tom posted this at 2:14 PM HKT on Tuesday, March 11th, 2008 as Belles Lettres

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I may be a biased source, but my dad just wrote the best article to be found about the future of Russia and its relationship with the U.S.:

Vladimir Putin has the heart and soul of a KGB Commissar — which, of course, he once was. He’s a thug, and he’s learned nothing from his country’s history. So he’s driving Russia into the same ditch the communists drove it into back in the twentieth century. He’s creating a one-party dictatorship in which the country’s wealth will be owned or controlled by the State. Like all dictators, he’s trying to gin up a foreign enemy — that would be us — to justify his domestic policies. And he’s embarking on a course to achieve his communist predecessors’ dream of imposing a sort of Pax Sovietica on the world.

The rigged election of Dmitri Medvedev as Russia’s president on March 2 was, of course, merely window-dressing to show that Putin is obeying his country’s constitution by limiting himself to two consecutive four-year terms. Putin himself will take the lesser post of prime minister, but there’s no doubt he’s the man in charge. The general assumption is that Putin will return to the presidency when Medvedev’s term expires, or sooner should the presidency become vacant before then. (A friendly word of advice for President Medvedev: Get yourself a food-taster, and send a flunky out each morning to start the car.)

Read the whole thing. His conclusion isn’t what I expected.

Tom posted this at 9:49 AM HKT on Thursday, March 6th, 2008 as Belles Lettres, Commie Recrudescence

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On the downside, Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow, so more winter for us.

On the plus side, you can read the prophet on Groundhog Day:

The point is that Connors slowly realizes that what makes life worth living is not what you get from it, but what you put into it. He takes up the piano. He reads poetry — no longer to impress Rita, but for its own sake. He helps the locals in matters great and small, including catching a boy who falls from a tree every day. “You never thank me!” he yells at the fleeing brat. He also discovers that there are some things he cannot change, that he cannot be God. The homeless man whom Connors scorns at the beginning of the film becomes an obsession of his at the end because he dies every Groundhog Day. Calling him “pop” and “dad,” Connors tries to save him but never can.

By the end of the film, Connors is no longer obsessed with bedding Rita. He’s in love with her, without reservation and without hope of his affection being requited. Only in the end, when he completely gives up hope, does he in fact “get” the woman he loves. And with that, with her love, he finally wakes on February 3, the great wheel of life no longer stuck on Groundhog Day. As NR’s own Rick Brookhiser explains it, “The curse is lifted when Bill Murray blesses the day he has just lived. And his reward is that the day is taken from him. Loving life includes loving the fact that it goes.”

Stay warm, everyone.

Hubbard posted this at 2:10 PM HKT on Saturday, February 2nd, 2008 as Animal Kingdom Strikes Back, Belles Lettres, Philosophy, There Is Only One God And Jonah Goldberg Is His Prophet

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Upon declaring “w00t” the word of the year, Merriam-Webster is no longer a defender of the faith:

“W00t,” a hybrid of letters and numbers used by gamers as an exclamation of happiness, topped all other terms in the Springfield dictionary publisher’s online poll for the word that best sums up 2007.

Merriam-Webster’s president, John Morse, said “w00t” was an ideal choice because it blends whimsy and new technology.

Gah. Such an ugly word! On the plus side, m-w.com doesn’t actually recognize it as a word yet:

The word you’ve entered isn’t in the dictionary. Click on a spelling suggestion below or try again using the search bar above.

Suggestions for w00t:

1. 5-Ts

2. hight

3. hgt

4. out-

5. oughts

6. -ty

7. outlaw

8. hit

9. http

10. Out

11. hoot

12. oto

13. OT

14. hut

15. oat

16. oast

17. ot-

18. oats

19. ought

20. opt

So there’s a chance that the Merriam-Webster editors can escape burning at the stake.

Hubbard posted this at 12:33 PM HKT on Wednesday, December 12th, 2007 as Belles Lettres, Excruciatingly Correct Behavior

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The Golden Compass is the best film about a small person who — with the help of Ian McKellan and the hindrance of Christopher Lee — must protect a powerful golden trinket from the forces of darkness.  At least since 2003.

Tom posted this at 9:26 AM HKT on Monday, December 10th, 2007 as Belles Lettres, Film Rants, Nerdom

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Admittedly, Eponine’s song, On My Own, is my favorite from Les Miserables. But that’s mostly because I’ve always thought that it could be read in two ways. In the context of the musical, On My Own, is about a woman’s unrequited love for a man. Outside of Les Miz, it could be just as easily about a gay man’s unrequited love for a man:

I love him but everyday I’m learning
All my life I’ve only been pretending.
Without me his world will go on turning.
The world is full of happiness that I have never known!
I love him, I love him
I love him, but only on my own.

I’ve no idea if the librettist, Alain Boublil, is gay—but I think my reading makes sense.

Hubbard posted this at 2:39 PM HKT on Thursday, November 1st, 2007 as Belles Lettres, Random Bloggish Things

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According to JK Rowling (H/T), Dumbledore was gay:

Speaking at Carnegie Hall on Friday night, Rowling confirmed what some fans had always suspected – that she “always thought Dumbledore was gay”.

Responding to a question from the audience, she said Dumbledore fell in love with the charming wizard Gellert Grindelwald but when Grindelwald turned out to be more interested in the dark arts than good, Dumbledore was “terribly let down” and went on to destroy his rival.

That love, she said, was Dumbledore’s “great tragedy”.

“Falling in love can blind us to an extent,” she said.

Good grief.

Hubbard posted this at 3:30 PM HKT on Monday, October 22nd, 2007 as Belles Lettres, Excruciatingly Correct Behavior

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I was going to write a review for Radiohead’s new album In Rainbows. However, Mr. Trend over at Alterdestiny seems to have beaten me to the punch. His review tracks with my feelings on the album – if you’re a Radiohead fan – or a music fan in general – I highly advise you to pick up the album for download at their website. You choose how much you want to pay – I paid $10.00.

Jamie posted this at 10:55 AM HKT on Thursday, October 11th, 2007 as Belles Lettres, Kulturkampf

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Now this is a book I will have to get.

Jamie posted this at 11:26 AM HKT on Thursday, September 27th, 2007 as Belles Lettres

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Richard Dawkins reviews Christopher Hitchens book God is Not Great. The only thing I can gleam from the entire article is: I really really hate this guy.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not a religious man by any stretch of the imagination, but I can’t stand the high minded, ivory tower, prick-ishness of someone like Richard Dawkins. I’m supposedly part of the “enlightened” in his estimation – so his writing should have me be yelling “Hallelujah” and passing out The God Delusion in front of churches. Instead I sit and shake my head at a man who should be educating and is instead turning people away from knowledge.

This is never more apparent than when Dick is reviewing Hitch – a man who, while as much of a jerk as Dawkins, somehow manages to convey his message with enough humor, wit and intelligence that I am never turned off.

With characteristic effrontery, he took his tour through the Bible Belt states – the reptilian brain of southern and middle America, rather than the easier pickings of the country’s cerebral cortex to the north and down the coasts. The plaudits he received were all the more gratifying. Something is stirring in that great country. America is far from the know-nothing theocracy that two terms of Bush, and various misleading polls, had led us to fear. Does the buckle of the Bible Belt conceal some real guts? Are the ranks of the thoughtful coming out of the closet and standing up to be counted? Yes, and Hitchens’s atheist colleagues on the American bestseller list have equally encouraging tales to tell.

There is so much disdain for America dripping off that paragraph that it makes me want to stand up and throw bibles at Dawkins till something sinks in. The saddest part is that Dawkins thinks he is praising Middle America – but it is so backhanded I want to slap him.

The difference between Dick and Hitch I think is subtle. While both men are English intellectual snobs, with all the accompanying personality “quirks”, I believe that Hitch has far more respect for those of us outside the Ivory Tower than does Dick. Yes Hitch heaps scorn on organized religion and its myriad purveyors – and has over the years fiercely attacked numerous religious icons – but I never get a sense that he thinks he’s better than his audience. Dawkins on the other hand treats us all as morons who should follow him because “he knows the truth”.

Sounds rather religious doesn’t it?

Jamie posted this at 2:08 PM HKT on Thursday, September 6th, 2007 as Belles Lettres, Faith, Uncategorized

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