This neighborhood is not far from Newport, R. I. About an hour ago I heard an aircraft approaching, something not unusual either. As it neared, it kept getting louder. Louder and more determined - or aggressive - than most civilian aircraft. Finally, it came overhead and I could see it was an individual member of the Navy's Flight Demonstration Team, otherwise known as The Blue Angels; I could read, on the underside, the lettering and distinguish the blue and yellow colors.
They have a show this weekend in Newport, http://www.blueangels.navy.mil/show/, so I guess the pilot was practicing. It's a bit embarrassing - juvenile maybe - for me to touch on the heroic but, the thing basically roared as it passed overhead. It was a very uplifting sight and sound. Hope they have a good show . . . I might even attend myself.
http://www.blueangels.navy.mil/img/photos/full/aircraft/aircraft_21.jpg
Blue Angels Homepage, http://www.blueangels.navy.mil/
Update: We went to the Sunday show. The flying was exciting to watch. Timewise, the Blue Angels flew far longer than I expected probably at least 30 or more minutes. They put on a great show. At one point we were wondering which way they would be coming from when one roared by, unexpectedly, in front of us. How he snuck up on us I don't know. Before he got too far away another snuck up on us again but this time from behind.
Very thrilling.
One guy/gal - not part of the Blue Angels - was flying what I think was a biplane which they would fly as straight up as possible then stall the plane. The plane would start falling back to earth and then the pilot would regain control. If you ask me one of these maneuvers is a performance, 2 or more
of these maneuvers
- in this case about 5 or 6 - is enough for the pilot to be designated as 'touched'. Ha!
"You know" interjected the-girl-in-the-know "this phone rings on occasion."
"Agreed" replied the young man, without any lechery, " this could be a
sign of malfunctioning . . . or possibly malfunction-ation."
The pressure measured a high no. of psi. A relief of the pressure through a pressure relief value was recommended.
"Whatever the problems" began an engineer dressed as a scarecrow, "the
system is designed - with intent - to promote individuality,
individual pursuits of happiness, and the associated securities." The
pressure dropped.
Someone else
happily intoned,
"The Sound of Music©". The pressure dropped yet again.
"The extremists . . ." the pressure jumped; Fears - yet rationalized -
induced mild panic. ". . . are FINISHED!!!!!" blurted the speaker.
There came a drop of another few psi and a sigh - or a
sandwich board
sign - of relief.
"My barber's the one to compliment but thank you anyway" was expressed. The pressure dropped yet again.
It seemed the crisis had been asserted, or possibly even averted.
Franklin Something pondered and on occasion even thought; "If we can't
be sure of anything and high pressure is considered bad then high
pressure could be good. But if high pressure is good how can we say we can't be sure of anything?"
It was a good day to be human and at
the top of the food chain. "Possibly, McDonald's™, or Wendy's™"
thought Franklin. "Or . . . are they franchises, not food chains?"
Franklin decided a conference was in
order and arranged for the conference to take place, sometime later . . .
or possibly sooner.
"No, no." he thought "I can't get to Oklahoma any sooner."
"Nice haircut Lewis."
"Thank you, but really my barber is the one to compliment.", replied Lewis.
"If Lew's haircut is nice, maybe it's really bad." thought Franklin.
Franklin left . . . or rather, he may have left. He also may have
arrived.
It was a good day to be human and at
the top of the food chain.
My art prior to my father's death:
HT (Hat Tip) to Claude Monet
My art after my father's death:
HT (Helmet Tip) to Hermann Rorschach
One of the great leaders of the Roman empire was Julius Caesar Salad.
I'm thinking of sending this advertisement tagline to Timex®; "Most of the Timex®, life is good."
I've joined a dating website. The basic, free
membership allows us to send canned messages to other members, one of
which is; 'Let's cut right to the quick. I'm a scam profile. Please
send $1,000 for whatever reason, just send $1,000.'
I'm thinking of starting a Kickstarter© project. The project goal is
to get myself into the Guinness Book of World Records© as one of the
world's richest men. I can accomplish the basic requirements myself;
That of opening a bank account. I'll need your donations to help fund the rest of
the project.
8 November
Everything is promised my classmates and me, most of all the future. We accept the outrageous assurances without blinking.1 - Donald Barthelme, Sixty Stories
This blogpost won't stay in the hole I dug for it. I even used a blog-post hole digger.
1Sixty Stories, Donald Barthelme ©1982, Published by Penguin Group of Penguin Books Ltd., London, England, pg. 25
A big part of the reason for my choosing to read this book was that it is considered a part of those books which transition from modernism to post-modernism. The transition seems to take place in the decade of the 40's, mostly post-World War II. I wanted to read something in that time period and
exampling that transition.
Well, it didn't take long for me to love The Cannibal© by John Hawkes. Bleak, disturbing, and most of all aesthetically selective in attempting an evocativeness of familiar, and somewhat well-worn, emotions.
"Arms and armies and silver blades were gone, the black had come out of the realm of kings, and butterflies and grass were left for children. Freight trains were hit and burned and no more came, and the keys of all machines were welded together. 'Wohin gehen sie?', [Where to go?]"1
The dispirited tone pervades much of the novel; I'm not sure more than 2 or 3 days exist within the setting which are actually somewhat sunny days without fog, darkness, muddled, bombed out roads and ruins, etc. Eventually, even the dispirit devolves. The population - once civil and mannered than dispirited and resigned - becomes base, surreally so [Evidence the title, The Cannibal]; Individual nihilism and communal callousness are all that seems to remain.
To transition poorly, on another note:
"Cromwell was a fool."2
This is a simple declarative sentence of English vernacular. One might find such sentences comprising the entirety of other books. Here it stands out like a sore thumb. [Compare the second quote to the first quote.] The character saying it is the German narrator, who has not much affinity for the allies, American or British. This explains the disdain, yet - almost certainly - there is nowhere else in the book of such a blatant positioning of a particular example of English idiom, disdainful or otherwise. I think the declaration is an example. One, placed by Hawkes himself, of the kind of story-telling which Hawkes is trying to avoid. It stands out and for no other reason than the skill of the author.
Also, there are a couple of pieces of metafiction within the book which are interesting
in themselves, their purpose seeming a way for Hawkes to admit being an author with fallible understanding. The metafiction doesn't, at all, come across as self-indulgent.
The themes of the book - war, it's destruction of property and souls - are familiar and the book suffers a little because of it. The novels of modernism and it's predecessors can seem at times to be - like packaged milk -
approaching an expiration date; The evocativeness of familiar themes taking on a slight but growing sourness of the customary. However, Hawkes - his other theme of self-delusion - and the magnificent aesthetical attempts far surpass the familiar.
I think it is a really great book which is a little too disregarded because of it's aesthetic, an aesthetic which is part of the beginnings of post-modernism.
1The Cannibal, John Hawkes, ©1949, 1962, New Directions Publishing Corp., pgs. 10-11
2 Ibid, pg. 56