Lindy West on leaving Twitter

The writer Lindy West on why she left Twitter: “Being on Twitter felt like being in a nonconsensual BDSM relationship with the apocalypse.”

The Democracy Index

The Economist ’s 2017 Democracy Index has determined that

less than 5% of the world’s population currently lives in a “full democracy.” Nearly a third live under authoritarian rule, with a large share of those in China. Overall, 89 of the 167 countries assessed in 2017 received lower scores than they had the year before.

The United States America is in twenty-first place as a “flawed democracy.” The country dropped from “full democracy” in 2016. The top democracy, since 2010: Norway.

Pocket notebook sighting

[Fury (dir. Fritz Lang, 1936). Click for larger views.]

Joe Wilson (Spencer Tracy) relies on a pocket notebook. It appears to have a calender printed on its inside front cover.



More notebook sightings
Angels with Dirty Faces : Ball of Fire : Cat People : City Girl : Les Dames du Bois de Boulogne : Dragnet : Extras : Foreign Correspondent : Homicide : The Honeymooners : The House on 92nd Street : Journal d’un curé de campagne : The Last Laugh : Le Million : The Lodger : Ministry of Fear : Mr. Holmes : Murder at the Vanities : Murder by Contract : Murder, Inc. : The Mystery of the Wax Museum : Naked City : The Naked Edge : The Palm Beach Story : Perry Mason : Pickpocket : Pickup on South Street : Pushover : Quai des Orfèvres : Railroaded! : Red-Headed Woman : Rififi : Route 66 : The Sopranos : Spellbound : State Fair : A Stranger in Town : Time Table : T-Men : 20th Century Women : Union Station : Where the Sidewalk Ends : The Woman in the Window

Twelve movies

[No spoilers. The details of Three Billboards won’t signify for someone who hasn’t seen the film.]

Time Table (dir. Mark Stevens, 1956). The lead from The Street with No Name directs and stars as an insurance investigator paired with a railroad detective to crack an ultra-crafty train robbery. Strong echoes of Double Indemnity make for a compelling if derivative movie. At YouTube.

*

The Great Flamarion (dir. Anthony Mann, 1945). Erich von Stroheim as Flamarion, a carnival marksman in love with his assistant Connie (Mary Beth Hughes). With the always sinister Dan Duryea as a second assistant — and Connie’s husband. An excellent story of obsession and betrayal that would pair well with Gun Crazy. At YouTube.

*

Suspicion (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1941). Is he or isn’t he? Cary Grant seems improbable as a husband who may be plotting to kill his wife (Joan Fontaine). This film feels like a rehearsal for the brilliant Shadow of a Doubt : just imagine Joseph Cotten taking Grant’s role. Suspicion might be my least favorite Hitchcock film.

*

Forbidden Games (dir. René Clément, 1952). The lives of children in wartime: Paulette (Brigitte Fossey), an orphaned Parisian girl, and Michel (Georges Poujouly), the youngest son of the country family with whom Paulette finds a home. As the children create a hidden cemetery, Michel, a knight-errant of sorts, attempts greater and greater feats to please the severe Paulette. A magical, mysterious depiction of a secret world of childhood, set against the unspeakable sadness and cruelty of the larger world.

*

Umberto D. (dir. Vittorio De Sica, 1952). The loneliness of Umberto D. Ferrari, an impoverished pensioner whose dignity is challenged at every turn. His best friend is his dog Flike, who adds Chaplinesque comedy and pathos to the story. Most telling moment: the hole in the wall. This film would pair well with Make Way for Tomorrow — maybe too (painfully) well. Carlo Battisti, the courtly looking professor of linguistics who plays Umberto D., is a quintessential De Sica star, having never before acted.

*

Fury (dir. Fritz Lang, 1936). Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sidney in a story of a lynching and its aftermath, from a director who had fled Nazi Germany not long before. With a pointed commentary from a district attorney (Walter Abel) on the history of lynching in the United States. Eerie overtones for our times, with a frenzied, torch-bearing mob and journalists whose work counters what might be called alternative facts.

*

Simon of the Desert (dir. Luis Buñuel, 1965). Yes, Simeon Stylites, or a version of him. Asceticism here seems a form of self-aggrandizing theater, with a pillar for a stage. And then a taller pillar: a promotion! And then Satan, in a variety of guises. My favorite line: “I’m beginning to realize I don’t realize what I’m saying.”

*

Living without Money (dir. Line Halvorsen, 2010). A documentary about Heidemarie Schwermer, who for years, we’re told, has lived without money. We see Schwermer taking trains, giving talks, signing books, fully participating in what might be called a European Union information economy. All of which makes me want to say, no, you are not living without money. You can watch for this film for free at Vimeo, as long as someone is paying for an Internet connection.

*

The Negro Soldier (dir. Frank Capra, 1944). A preacher (Carlton Moss) dispenses with his prepared sermon to talk to his congregation about the integral, often decisive African-American role in American history. This film exudes noble purpose. But its whitewashed history omits all mention of slavery and Jim Crow. On TMC, Ben Mankiewicz noted that the film was shown first to black servicemen. For white audiences, scenes with black officers and with white nurses treating black servicemen were removed. At YouTube.

*

Wild Tales (dir. Damián Szifron, 2014). Six stories about violent emotional abandon, comic, delirious, frightening, satisfying. You’ll known from the first few minutes that this film will be a delight. But Szifron saves the best — a wedding party to end all wedding parties — for last. My favorite line: “If rat poison is expired, is it more or less harmful?”

*

Bottom of the Sea (dir. Damián Szifron, 2003). Another wild tale: a quickly paced story of jealousy and revenge, as an architecture student stalks his girlfriend’s lover through the night. Like so many Hitchcock characters, the student, Toledo, finds himself in over his head. And rises accordingly.

*

Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri (dir. Martin McDonagh, 2017). Still more emotional abandon, with Frances McDormand as a mother whose grief and anger over the rape and murder of her daughter moves her to confront her town’s police chief (Woody Harrelson). As with Lady Bird, I’m baffled by the nearly universal acclaim this film has received. I found the humor (polo, or polio ?) forced and inane. The fleeting references to police brutality against black residents — a matter the film leaves unexplored — feel like a cheap bid for relevance. As for plot, illogicalities abound. What is the stranger in the store even doing there? Why don’t the police question Mildred and James separately? I won’t go on. At the heart of the film is rage, of various kinds, from various characters, and improbable suggestions of redemption. Whether that’s enough is for the viewer to decide.

Related reading
All OCA film posts (Pinboard)

Nancy, spokestoon

[Nabisco Shredded Wheat, 1960.]

This ad appears in Paul Karasik and Mark Newgarden’s How to Read “Nancy”: The Elements of Comics in Three Easy Panels (Seattle: Fantagraphics, 2017). I’m on page seventy-five. A little under two hundred pages to go. It’s a spectacular book.

Related reading
All OCA Nancy posts (Pinboard)

Zippy rocks

[Zippy, January 31, 2018.]

I see “some rocks.” Click!

Venn posts
Nancy : Nancy and Zippy : Zippy (Pinboard)

[“Some rocks” are an abiding preoccupation in these pages. See this post for an explanation.]

Recently updated

Some rocks Now with an origin story.

Things to do on Tuesday

I don’t plan to watch Dunning K. Trump’s State of the Union address tonight — I have to wash my hair, or something. I will be very busy. But I do plan to watch the Democratic response, to be delivered by Massachusetts Congressman Joseph P. Kennedy III. He represents Brookline and Newton, among other places. (Represent!)

I’m following Daughter Number Three in calling the president by a name of my own invention. I made up the name Dunning K. Trump in October 2016. This post explains.

“Wormwise”?!

[Peanuts, February 2, 1971.]

The often inelegant, sometimes playful suffix -wise.

Snoopy is reading a letter from Woodstock, who’s received a scholarship to attend worm school. Woodstock was going to bring “a girl” home to meet Snoopy, “but she ran off with a stupid robin.” This 1971 strip is today’s Peanuts.

Related posts
-wise-wise : From the -wise world : -wise, usagewise

A page-ninety test

The first two times I looked for Michael Wolff’s Fire and Fury, the book was already sold out. But yesterday, there it was. I opened to page ninety:

That was actually the kind of image that Donald Trump had worked to project throughout most of his career. His is a 1950s businessman sort of ideal. He aspires to look like his father — or, anyway, not to displease his father. Except when he’s in golf wear, it is hard to imagine him out of a suit and tie, because he almost never is. Personal dignity — that is, apparent uprightness and respectability—is one of his fixations. He is uncomfortable when the men around him are not wearing suit and ties. Formality and convention — before he became president, almost everybody without high celebrity or a billion dollars called him “Mr. Trump” — are a central part of his identity. Casualness is the enemy of pretense. And his pretense was that the Trump brand stood for power, wealth, arrival.

Slack writing, even at 30% off. “That was . . . that,” “actually,” “the kind of image,” “throughout most,” “his is,” “sort of ideal,” “anyway,” “out of a suit and tie.” The shifts in tense make for slight confusion: “Casualness is the enemy of pretense. And his pretense was.” And notice how dashes beget dashes, in three of nine sentences. I’ll leave untouched Wolff’s assertions that “personal dignity” is a Trump fixation and that formality and convention are “a central part of his identity.” But I’ll offer what I think is an improved version of the paragraph:

That is the image Donald Trump has worked to project through most of his career: a version of his father, a 1950s businessman. Away from the golf course, Trump almost always wears a suit and tie, and he grows uncomfortable when men around him are more casually dressed. Mr. Trump — and before he became president, almost everyone but the rich and famous called him “Mr. Trump” — is fixated on personal dignity, and casualness is the enemy of his pretension that the Trump brand stands for power, wealth, arrival.

Original: 137 words. Revised: 88 words. And now I’m realizing that my revised paragraph sounds like capable prose from, say, a Newsweek or Time profile. Which tells me that Fire and Fury is a magazine article inflated to the size of a book. Do I need to buy it? No. Do I even want to read it? I’ll invoke Schopenhauer: “A precondition for reading good books is not reading bad ones: for life is short.”

Related posts
Ford Madox Ford’s page-ninety test, an explanation
My Salinger Year : Nature and music : A history of handwriting : A book about happiness : The Slow Professor : Shady Characters (Other page-ninety tests)

[Someday editors and publishers might realize that they should look carefully at the first full paragraph on page ninety.]