Totally Bonkers Coincidence

July 14, 2014

“Nelle [Harper Lee] told me about the time a young Truman took off on an adventure.  It was 1936.  Truman was twelve and Nelle was ten.  A girl named Martha was visiting the Rawls family across the street.  She was from Milton, Florida, and four years old than Truman.  Nelle said she noticed that the girl would sit out on the steps in her bathing costume.  ‘I was jealous,’ Nelle told me, ‘of all the time Truman was spending with Martha––the exotic older woman.’

“Nelle told me to ask Alice about the details of what came next.  I did.

“‘Truman and Martha got it into their heads that they would run away,’ Alice told me.  ‘So they hitchhiked to Evergreen and created a story about why they were traveling by themselves.  The clerk at the hotel realized that something was not right and called back here to have someone retrieve them.  It didn’t create that much attention around here.  It was two little kids up to mischief.  It was no big thing.  The only big thing about it came later when both of ’em became well-known, but not for the same reason.

“‘It turns out that years later she had been corresponding through one of those lonely hearts kind of things in a magazine and that was how she met this husband who ended up being her partner in crime.’

“In an uncanny twist of Nelle’s and Truman’s history, Martha turned out to be a murderer.  She was Martha Beck, who, with her husband, lured and robbed women who had placed personal ads in newspapers.  Posing as brother and sister in the late forties, they befriended the unsuspecting victims before killing them.  Known as the Lonely Hearts Killers, their crimes were sensationalized in the popular detective magazines of the day.

~The Mockingbird Next Door: Life with Harper Lee by Marja Mills

On Christine Quinn

July 11, 2014

Not that anyone particularly cares at this point, but there was a bit of an oh-how-brave reaction when Christine Quinn, who was then running for mayor, released a memoir about her various obstacles: homosexuality, bulimia, and alcoholism (wow, what a trio!)  But if you think carefully, it’s not brave at all, but rather incredibly safe, because it’s following the clear cultural trajectory toward an end where strife is the only worthwhile currency.  I will bet anyone who is willing that it’s not long before a disgraced Republican, who was fervently anti-marriage equality but then was caught tapping his foot in a bathroom, comes out with a memoir, goes on Oprah and cries, and uses it all to launch a new campaign.  (Oh wait… Anthony Weiner kind of did that already, minus the gay part.)

“What makes us authentic, then, as Jews, homosexuals, Hindus, or Chinese, is our sense of trauma, and thus our status as victims, which cannot be questioned.  The vulgar Freudianism of the view is remarkable in an age of debunking Freud.  In fact, Freud’s endeavors were themselves a brilliant product of late-nineteenth century identity politics.  To secular, bourgeois, assimilated German and Austrian Jews, psychoanalysis was a logical route to self discovery.  What Freud did for his Viennese patients is in a way what Edmund White and other identity politicians are now doing for their various ‘communities,’ and real politicians are borrowing their language.”

~Ian Buruma, “The Joys and Perils of Victimhood,” from the New York Review of Books

For KRS

July 10, 2014

“On February 14, I received a telegram from Buenos Aires telling me to return immediately, for my father was ‘in no way well.’  God forgive me, but the prestige of being the recipient of an urgent telegram, the desire to point out to all of Fray Bentos the contradiction between the negative form of the news and the positive adverb, the temptations to dramatize my sorrow as a feigned a virile stoicism, all distracted me from the possibility of anguish.”  ~Jorge Luis Borges, “Funes the Memorius”

YOU GUYS

July 7, 2014

I cannot believe I forgot to blog about my genius art project with my crafty friend LM.  It’s been on Etsy for ages and for reasons completely beyond me, did not manage to go viral.  For your consideration: Carcosan Mirror.

Its shape is that of time.

Its shape is that of time.

Hello there.

Hello there.

And here is the genius copy I wrote for it:

This mirror is 1.5” in diameter. Gazing into it, you can see a little more than one eye, in addition to the depths of your dark, depraved soul. Perfect for the anti-natalist in your life who doesn’t care about her hairdo, or the hard-drinking chain smoker who’d rather contemplate the non-linear nature of time than watch football with his buddies. Looks great on bare, slightly discolored walls.

If shipping domestically, mirror will arrive between 3-7 business days, and arrive over and over again as you eternally wander around the flat circle of time that is your life.

Questions: email Dora Lange at itinerantdaughterandson [!at] gmail.com. PLEASE NOTE that the manufacturers are on vacation in the Bayou until Sunday, March 9th, and will fill orders after they return… if they do at all.

Enjoy?

In case you want to grab one before my listing expires, here is the link.

The Gibbons Twins

July 7, 2014

It’s been a while since I spent some time with my favorite crazy twins, the Gibbons sisters.  June and Jennifer––whose ridiculously bizarre bio can be found here––were, a British correspondent of mine told me, a favorite subject of The Manic Street Preachers, whose music sounds a bit quaint now but who were, in the eighties and nineties, considered the apex of dark.  Below, MSP’s song “Tsunami,” about the Gibbons twins.  (Someone please track down a copy of Pepsi-Cola Addict for me!)

“Tsunami”

For you my dear sister
Holding onto me forever
Disco dancing with the rapists
Your only crime is silence

Can’t work at this anymore
Can’t move I want to stay at home
Tied up to all these crutches
Never far from your hands

Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Can’t speak, can’t think, won’t talk, won’t walk

Doctors tells me that I’m cynical
I tell them that it must be chemical
So what am I doing girl
Cry into my drink I disappear

Eyes for teeth grating over me
Bring down the shadows of my mind
Sleep and breathe under our sheets
Inhale the anxiety in – between, in – between, in – between, in – between

Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me

Through September under the weather

In – between, in – between, in – between, in – between

Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me
Tsunami tsunami
Came washing over me

Take the GI’s I will have the spies

My Class!

July 2, 2014

 My friend, and classmate!, LV on an atheist’s love for Talmud:

“There are few individuals that fit this bill, but I was fortunate enough to know of one of them. Rabbi Ysoscher Katz had been a Satmar rabbi who taught a popular Talmud class in Borough Park before leaving that role to chair the Talmud department at Open Orthodoxy’s flagship rabbinical academy, Yeshivat Chovevei Torah, a place that aims to reconcile Orthodox Judaism with contemporary ethics. I enrolled in an early morning Talmud class that Rabbi Katz taught to students from an array of Jewish backgrounds, in a classroom on the fourth floor of the Skirball Center for Adult Jewish Learning in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Arriving on my first day, I clutched a cup of coffee in my hand and found a place at the end of the big wooden table, amongst women in yarmulkes and bareheaded men.

“Rabbi Katz arrived, a young bearded man in Orthodox-style dress. He passed out photocopies printed with that distinct talmudic architecture: a center block of words in a bisected frame of commentaries adorned with columns of smaller text. The paper felt illicit in my hands.”

Kinda upset I didn’t have a cameo but what can you do?

Back from the Hamptons, Off to Maine

June 26, 2014

I’ve always been sort of obsessed with the islands off the coast of Maine, and I’d especially like to see Widow’s Island, but I can’t find it on a map.  Maybe I should just get in a canoe off Penobscot and start paddling:

Richard J. Kahn, M.D., practices internal medicine in Rockport Maine and is on the clinical faculty of University of Vermont and Dartmouth Medical Schools. Current projects include a paper on Noah Webster’s efforts in the field of epidemiology circa 1800 and publication of an annotated transcription of the manuscript, Diseases of the District of Maine by Jeremiah Barker (1752-1835). His most recent publication: “William Withering’s Wonderful Weed” appeared, with chapters by a number of Oslerians, in Clio in the Clinic, edited by Jacalyn Duffin in 2005.

Widow’s Island is a fifteen-acre island in the Fox Island Thoroughfare off Rockland, Maine. Today the island appears untouched by anyone but vacationers. As unlikely as it may seem, in the late 1880s the U.S. Navy built a two-story, brick, fifty-bed yellow fever quarantine hospital on this little island between Vinalhaven and North Haven. Certainly Maine has never been a hotbed of yellow fever. Why was the hospital built in Maine at this time and place, who were the people involved, and what happened to the facility over its forty-year lifespan and beyond?

Yellow fever was active in Latin America. In the 1880s, attempts to build the Panama Canal led to the US Navy to dispatch troops to the region. In 1883 a group of residents near the Portsmouth Navy Base petitioned the Secretary of the Navy, protesting the presence of infected vessels in Portsmouth Harbor. The then Secretary of the Navy William Eaton Chandler (1882-85), who was born in Concord, NH, decided to build a new quarantine station among the islands off the coast of Maine and ordered a search for a suitable location.

Though major ports did have quarantine stations by this time, some Navy surgeons believed that certain patients, particularly those with yellow fever, could best be treated if they were isolated in a sparsely settled, cool climate. Maine certainly fitted this description, and there had been no actual epidemics in the state. In 1884 the US Lighthouse Board, which had jurisdiction over Widow’s Island, offered it to the Navy Medical Department.

This paper will discuss the issues involved with the community response, building, and functioning of the hospital, which never actually admitted a yellow fever patient. Formal control of the hospital passed from the Navy to the State of Maine on June 1, 1904, marking the end of the Naval Hospital on Widow’s Island. For more than ten years thereafter the building was used as a summer retreat for selected patient from the Augusta and Bangor Insane Hospitals.

 

I Want To Read This

June 23, 2014

“My generation was obsessed with the distinction between theory and practice––I knew a man in California whose doctoral dissertation was devoted to ‘Theory and Practice in theory and practice.'” ~Tony Judt, “Girls, Girls, Girls,” Republished in The Memory Chalet

Yom Kippur Outfit

June 19, 2014
You always look so cleansed.

You always look so cleansed.

Horoscope

June 18, 2014

Apparently, the Post thinks this is what’s going on for me today:

“Even if you are the kind of Taurus who keeps your emotions under control you will be much more outgoing than usual today. There are so many good things going on in your life that you’ve got to stand up and tell the whole world.”

Have they not been outside yet?!  Nothing good can happen in this heat.