“The Scope of Hate in 2016”

The fifth installment of the New York Times feature “This Week in Hate”: “The Scope of Hate in 2016.” You can find all installments here.

More “some rocks”

[From James Sowerby‘s British Mineralogy: or coloured figures intended to elucidate the mineralogy of Great Britain (London: 1804). Made available through the British Library’s Flickr account. Click for a larger view.]

Related reading
More “some rocks” posts : More “some rocks” from the British Library

Crafting nonsense

To the left, a motto for Yellow Springs Brewery, which I first spotted on the back of a delivery truck. “Crafting Truth to Power” is a most unseemly motto for a brewery, or for any business. Whether Yellow Springs knows it or not, the motto’s inspiration is a Quaker precept, part of the title of a 1955 publication, Speak Truth to Power: A Quaker Search for an Alternative to Violence:

Our title, Speak Truth to Power, taken from a charge given to Eighteenth Century Friends, suggests the effort that is made to speak from the deepest insight of the Quaker faith, as this faith is understood by those who prepared this study. We speak to power in three senses:

• To those who hold high places in our national life and bear the terrible responsibility of making decisions for war or peace.

• To the American people who are the final reservoir of power in this country and whose values and expectations set the limits for those who exercise authority.

• To the idea of Power itself, and its impact on Twentieth Century life.

The Yellow Springs motto seems to alter the meaning of to: here, it indicates not direction (speaking to power) but contact or proximity (welding truth to power). And it’s all semantic nonsense, as one cannot craft one abstraction (or one anything) to another. One more strike against the vogue verb craft.

Related reading
On the origins of “speaking truth to power” (Synonym)

[In color, the eagle looks cute. In black and white, ominously militaristic. The eagle appears in both forms on the Yellow Springs website. Rethink, rethink.]

EXchange names on screen

[Chinatown (dir. Roman Polanski, 1974). Click for a larger view.]

“Isn’t that your number?” a cop asks. But which one? The exchanges, clockwise: OX, OL, MA, CR. Let’s say OXford, OLympia, MAdison, CRestview. I’ve chosen those names from AT&T/Bell’s Notes on Nationwide Dialing, 1955. Why not choose an EXchange name for your number? It’s arrière-garde fun!

More exchange names on screen
The Amazing Dr. Clitterhouse : Armored Car Robbery : Baby Face : Blast of Silence : The Blue Dahlia : Boardwalk Empire : Born Yesterday : The Dark Corner : Deception : Dick Tracy’s Deception : Dream House : East Side, West Side : The Little Giant : The Man Who Cheated Himself : Modern Marvels : Murder by Contract : Murder, My Sweet : My Week with Marilyn : Naked City (1) : Naked City (2) : Naked City (3) : Naked City (4) : Naked City (5) : Naked City (6) : Naked City (7) : Nightmare Alley : The Public Enemy : Railroaded! : Side Street : Sweet Smell of Success : Tension : This Gun for Hire

”With no idea where he was going”

Stefan Zweig, “The Star Above the Forest.” 1904. The Collected Stories of Stefan Zweig. Trans. Anthea Bell (London: Pushkin Press, 2013).

I love these Zweig stories, which turn stock elements of fiction into the stuff of small masterpieces: a castle, footsteps on a gravel path, a distant forest, a weeping governess, a letter left on a breakfast table, an old painter, a waiter in a grand hotel.

Other Zweig posts
Destiny, out of one’s hands : Erasmus ekphrasis : Fanaticism and reason : Happy people, poor psychologists : Little world : “The safest shelter” : School v. city : “A tremendous desire for order” : Urban pastoral, with stationery : Zweig’s last address book

George Herriman’s Krazy Kat

At Dreamers Rise, an all-purpose appreciation of George Herriman’s Krazy Kat.

Still life with telephone

[Plunder Road (dir. Hubert Cornfield, 1957).]

Yes, that phone is about to ring. Click for a larger view and you can see the Interoffice Telephone Directory.

Plunder Road is one of our household’s YouTube finds.

Twelve more movies

[No spoilers.]

Sour Grapes (dir. Reuben Atlas and Jerry Rothwell, 2016). A documentary about a con artist in the world of high-end wine. Two elements stood out for me: the collaboration between the con artist and his marks (who really, really want to believe that they’re getting their hands on rare wines) and the lawyerly effort to cast the con artist’s efforts as relatively benign.

*

Plunder Road (dir. Hubert Cornfield, 1957). In the tradition of The Asphalt Jungle (dir. John Huston, 1950) and The Killing (dir. Stanley Kubrick, 1956): five men execute a perfectly plotted heist, and then everything goes wrong. Much of the story happens via radio: after the five split up to drive three trucks to California, it’s the radio that brings the news as things go wrong. And at one point a radio makes things go wrong. Now playing at at YouTube.

*

Edge of Doom (dir. Mark Robson, 1950). An odd, unnerving movie, with a crucifix as a murder weapon, and every human relationship slightly off. Dana Andrews plays a priest — an unfathomable casting choice. Farley Granger plays a desperate young man — a more fathomable casting choice. Paul Stewart (Raymond the butler in Citizen Kane) is a downstairs neighbor. At YouTube.

*

Chinatown (dir. Roman Polanski, 1974). Los Angeles, water rights, family dysfunction, plot convolutions, private detection, a generous application of Raymond Chandler. Watching again after many years, I realized that all I remembered of this film was water, a fence, and Jack Nicholson’s nose.

*

Behind Locked Doors (dir. Oscar Boetticher, 1948). A private investigator feigns mental illness to get inside a sanitarium where a crooked judge may be hiding to avoid arrest. Douglas Fowley is a fine sadistic orderly. The real treat: Tor Johnson (of Plan 9 from Outer Space) as “The Champ,” an ex-fighter and inmate. At YouTube.

*

Million Dollar Weekend (dir. Gene Raymond, 1948). Shouldn’t that be Million-Dollar? But this film is so low-budget that they probably couldn’t afford the hyphen. A stockbroker (Gene Raymond) skips town for Shanghai and promptly becomes involved in other people’s problems. Alternative description: an embezzler, a maybe-murderer (Osa Massen), and a blackmailer (Francis Lederer) walk onto a plane. At YouTube.

*

Best of Enemies: Buckley vs. Vidal (dir. Robert Gordon and Morgan Neville, 2015). In 1968, ABC News attempted to generate interest in its condensed coverage of the Republican and Democratic conventions by including mini-debates — which weren’t debates at all — between Willam F. Buckley and Gore Vidal. I avoided this documentary after seeing a trailer: its claim for the importance of these few minutes of television theatrics seemed far out of proportion to reality. What most struck me: the modest production values of 1968 news, the cattiness of Messrs. B. and V., and the way their insults and name-calling seem to foretell all that’s horrid in cable news.

*

Fort Tilden (dir. Sarah-Violet Bliss and Charles Rogers, 2014). Would-be adults, adrift in Brooklyn’s Williamsburg, trying to get to Fort Tilden, a beach in Queens — by bike, by borrowed car, by car service, on foot. Wonderful social satire. As someone in the film might say, ”I’d love to see more of your work!” But I mean it. My favorite moment: Infinite Jest taken down from a shelf to serve as a seductive prop.

*

The Exiles (dir. Kent Mackenzie, 1961). The lives of young Native Americans adrift in Los Angeles: exiles from the reservation, exiles from the city itself. Comic books, cigarettes, beer, Thunderbird wine, cards, jukeboxes, and, even in these surroundings, tradition. Los Angeles neo-realism, with beautiful black-and-white cinematography and strong overtones of Lionel Rogosin’s On the Bowery (1956). (That I could recognize that connection tells me that I must really watch a lot of films.) More about The Exiles here.


[Exiles, the morning after.]

*

The Life and Crimes of Doris Payne (dir. Matthew Pond and Kirk Marcolina, 2013). Doris Payne, jewel thief of many years’ experience, was recently in the news once again, at the age of eighty-six, after stealing a diamond necklace from a store in Georgia. This documentary presents Payne as a charming, elegant, incisive fabulator, a woman who has turned her life into a story (complete with The First Time I Stole, and Why) and who will prop herself up with the flimsiest logic: “My being a thief has nothing to do with my moral fiber. It has to do with my behavior.” See also: the difference between stealing and not giving back what someone gave you.

*

Shock Corridor (dir. Samuel Fuller, 1963). A reporter feigns an incestuous obsession with his “sister” (she’s really his girlfriend) to get inside a mental institution and solve a patient’s murder. The premise recalls Behind Locked Doors, but this film is a world apart. The three witnesses to the murder, all patients, have been made mad by racism, war, and the threat of nuclear annihilation. American culture, on this film’s account, is no Great Society: it’s sick. Gripping scenes of violence and of “Main Street,” the long corridor where men act out their delusions or stand and stare inertly.

*

The Great Lie (dir. Edmund Goulding, 1941). Mary Astor, George Brent, and Bette Davis in a love triangle that turns into a quadrilateral — or a pentagon, if you include the piano. If the utter implausibility of the storyline is too much, just press the SD button on your remote.

Related reading
All OCA film posts (Pinboard)
Fourteen more : Thirteen more : Twelve more : Another thirteen more : Another dozen : Yet another dozen : Another twelve : And another twelve : Still another twelve : Oh wait, twelve more : Twelve or thirteen more

[The SD button activates the suspension of disbelief for those who cannot activate it for themselves.]

Christmas 1916

[“Many Gifts for Convicts: One Anonymous Donor Sends 1,600 Mince Pies to Sing Sing.” The New York Times, December 25, 1916.]

Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it.

A song for these times

In The New York Times, Bruce Handy writes about “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”: “if any single tune reflects the miseries of 2016, and the anxious uncertainty with which we greet 2017, it is this 72-year-old holiday chestnut.”

We will have to muddle through somehow.