Watched The Magic Christian (1969) last night and although much of the allusions went over my head, I was impressed by how little has changed since then when it comes to greed and herd "consciousness." The entire story splashes the political issues fomenting in the late 1960s and early 1970s.
Sure, the message was somewhat preachy and a bit heavy-handed at times, but it's shot through with the wacky influence of Monty Python, which was also responsible for The Life of Brian, so the seriousness was off-set by a lot of hilarious bits as well. The title of the film refers to luxury liner S.S. Magic Christian, on which the main character books two tickets, one for him and one for his adopted son, but in fact, the ship was a structure built inside a warehouse. On the ship we see lots of naked breasties, Raquel Welch, Yul Brynner in drag, and Roman Polanski looking bored at a bar.
For me the scene where Guy Grand fills up a huge vat with urine, blood and animal excrement and adds to it thousands of bank notes said it all.
In the story Sir Guy Grand (Peter Sellers) an eccentric billionaire, together with his newly adopted heir (formerly a homeless derelict), Youngman Grand (Ringo Starr), start playing elaborate practical jokes on people. A big spender, Grand does not mind handing out large sums of money to various people, bribing them to fulfill his whims, or shocking them by bringing down what they hold dear.
It was fun to watch Ringo Starr (he was actually kind of cute in a muggy sort of way) and one of my favorite comedians of all time, Peter Sellers. My hubby used to do electrical work in John Cleese's Santa Barbara beach house, so I did a double take when I saw him looking so young as the Sotheby's art auction director in MC. One song from the film has stuck in my head all day today.
Something in the Air
by Thunderclap Newman
Call out the instigators
Because there's something in the air
We've got to get together sooner or later
Because the revolution's here, and you know it's right
And you know that it's right
We have got to get it together
We have got to get it together now
Lock up the streets and houses
Because there's something in the air
We've got to get together sooner or later
Because the revolution's here, and you know it's right
And you know that it's right
We have got to get it together
We have got to get it together now
Hand out the arms and ammo
We're going to blast our way through here
We've got to get together sooner or later
Because the revolution's here, and you know it's right
And you know that it's right
We have got to get it together
We have got to get it together
UK slang: * Cattle truck Verb. 1. To have sexual intercourse. 2. To ruin, destroy. See 'cattled'. Rhyming slang for 'fuck'.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Grad School Blues
Almost done with the first term of school. Not sure the program directors know what they're doing. We're walking around scratching our heads wondering what's going on. I mean, we don't have a chance to ask anyone questions or to present our concerns. I usually bring them up during breaks in class, and I see everyone else is as lost as I am.
My advisor couldn't be less interested in my existence. When I finally got to see him I did all the talking. I felt strained and unwelcome because I could see he really wanted to get back to his email. At $1,500 per class you'd think there would be more interaction between the students and the program facilitators.
I'm, um, faking this, just going to class and turning in my work, just like undergrad school. As a matter of fact, when grads and post-bac students take the same class we do the same work, except post-bacs are only paying $500 for the same class. Graduate Studies program director told me that was "illegal." I wish she'd come down from her penthouse office and sit in class with those of us who are paying her salary once and awhile.
Which proves to me, at least, that higher education is just another corporate honey pot. No one really gives a damn about you once you've paid your money.
My advisor couldn't be less interested in my existence. When I finally got to see him I did all the talking. I felt strained and unwelcome because I could see he really wanted to get back to his email. At $1,500 per class you'd think there would be more interaction between the students and the program facilitators.
I'm, um, faking this, just going to class and turning in my work, just like undergrad school. As a matter of fact, when grads and post-bac students take the same class we do the same work, except post-bacs are only paying $500 for the same class. Graduate Studies program director told me that was "illegal." I wish she'd come down from her penthouse office and sit in class with those of us who are paying her salary once and awhile.
Which proves to me, at least, that higher education is just another corporate honey pot. No one really gives a damn about you once you've paid your money.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
First Quarter, Year One, MFA Program
Haven't been around for some time. That's partly because I've had an upper respiratory infection, but also because I've been getting acclimated to grad school. I'm taking a seminar and a writing workshop with Tom Bissell. In the spring, Charles D'Ambrosio will begin teaching classes.
Two classes is all I can handle because they're demanding with the amount of reading and writing and critiquing involved. MFA students must read 30-40 books in addition to defending their thesis and taking an exam at the end of the program. It usually takes 2-3 years to complete.
The holy grail that I will probably come away with (if the pressure doesn't kill me) will be learning my own process. And I will learn that by being forced to plant my ass in the chair and writing, regardless of how bad I think I am, regardless of how much I tell myself I have nothing to write about. It's a little trick writers do on themselves: drive ourselves sick with anxiety until we get into the flow of writing, whereupon time disappears, everything disappears but the writing. This is the state that MFA students pay big bucks to learn how to enter...a state that other writers do cold turkey for free. I finally had to admit to myself I didn't have what it took to do it on my own, so...
Two classes is all I can handle because they're demanding with the amount of reading and writing and critiquing involved. MFA students must read 30-40 books in addition to defending their thesis and taking an exam at the end of the program. It usually takes 2-3 years to complete.
The holy grail that I will probably come away with (if the pressure doesn't kill me) will be learning my own process. And I will learn that by being forced to plant my ass in the chair and writing, regardless of how bad I think I am, regardless of how much I tell myself I have nothing to write about. It's a little trick writers do on themselves: drive ourselves sick with anxiety until we get into the flow of writing, whereupon time disappears, everything disappears but the writing. This is the state that MFA students pay big bucks to learn how to enter...a state that other writers do cold turkey for free. I finally had to admit to myself I didn't have what it took to do it on my own, so...
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Econvergence
[exerpt]
Economic and Ecological Crises
Our nation and the world face two great crises. The financial crisis of 2008 triggered the worst economic slump since the Great Depression. Foreclosures, bankruptcies, and layoffs continue as older generations watch hard earned savings vanish, younger families live in fear of layoffs and bills they cannot pay, students despair of finding jobs when they graduate, and immigrants face detention and deportation. Meanwhile, the government lavishes trillion dollar bailouts without conditions on the Wall Street banks whose reckless behavior brought on the crisis, but vacillates when it comes to launching aggressive programs to help those who live on Main Street....
Saturday, September 26, 2009
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