Image from Golden Age Comic Stories
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Just a sweet old man...
There were moments at the 92nd Street Y Tuesday night when Gore Vidal was just a sweet old man, reminiscing. ...gather(ing) steam as the evening progressed. Parini showed slides of photos from his book—which Vidal, with some difficulty, turned around to glimpse. (One) photo showed him standing with Charlton Heston on the set of Ben Hur, on which (he) worked as a script doctor.
Asked about Heston’s acting skills, “He was rather wooden, wasn’t he?”
Vidal replied, “...if you count balsa as one of the woods.”
In memory of Ivan Lidster
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Boys in the hood..
Taco Psychosis på Gutekällaren
October 24, 2009 at 10:00pm
Stora Torget, Visby
Yea, Axel!
At last...
The Philemon Foundation is proud to announce that The Red Book will be published on October 7, 2009 by W.W. Norton and Co. The publication will coincide with The Red Book of C.G. Jung: Creation of a New Cosmology, an exhibition of Jung's original text at the Rubin Museum of Art in New York, October 7, 2009 - January 25, 2010.
If you have a lot of patience, and good eyesight, you might try reading the New York Times article by Sara Corbett. Otherwise the Wikipedia page gives a good summary. And if you have a spare 99£ and would like to get me a Christmas present...
Monday, October 19, 2009
Alcoholic Self-Sonorous
Last night my neighbor, for the third night in a row, woke me from a sound sleep at 3:15 (Visby bars close at 3:00). I don’t mean he just made a lot of noise coming home. Oh, no! He threw open the windows - onto a small, shared, high-walled, reverberant courtyard - turned on “classic” disco (everything from Janet Gaynor to Prince, all re-mastered to sound like a memorable night at Studio 51 complete with cheering crowds and sparkling sound effects) and proceeded, along with what must have been 5-7 bar-friends, to hoot, whistle, cheer, clap, and bounce up and down as if they were part of that fashionable demi-monde, which I’m sure they thought they were. His girlfriend, familiar from numerous other late-night soirees, must have specialized in hog-calling, back home in Norbotten. She likes to stand in said open window and howl into the night, just to let everybody know how happy, drunk, and slutty she is. By five o:clock, they had all passed out and silence was restored. Alas, this is not uncommon behavior for Swedes these days, and the summer nights are filled with similar banshee cries and loud explosions. It seems to be what passes for social-life here. The evening isn’t complete until you’ve staggered, screeching through the streets, smashed a few bottles or shop windows to prove that you’re so much more than the conformist drone you appear to be, during the day. Needless to say, what it proves is nothing of the kind.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
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