Group Therapy

In the interest of the benefits of group therapy I plan to leave the hideous complaining accusative belittling Comment from an agitated mother left on the previous Entry. She reminds me of a ewe with a lamb, a 'mother' who approaches a dog, or a human, and vigourously stamps her foot. Sort of sweet in a way. Probably at her wits end. Children, oh dear oh dear.

        ____________

We went to have yet another ultrasound divination of my wife's ENORMOUS middle. Due date is officially March 7, but that's hard to imagine. While chatting about what was on the screen Dr. Diego (still in her 20's !!) opined that such and such was Mark's (Mark Andrew will be the name and Lord help whoever says Marc Anthony, ha ha) hands. Quick as a rabbit Michael, age four, pipes up with, "No, no that's his feet!"  Being a scientist and minimally competitive the good lovable Doctor said, "You're right!" Michael was in Heaven. Everybody wants to be right some of the time.

With great fear and trembling we wait for the Blessed day.

Barry

 

Dead End

When a SUPPOSED ADULT SENDS

HIS MOTHER to box my ears I figure I've driven

into a quagmire.

 

Barry

Blogs/Journals/Diaries/Letters

Whenever I've dropped by Blogspot and tried to begin another journal I try to 'read' the squiggly letters, and follow instructions re passwords and so on but always become impatient with the school days associations  I make with codes and secrets and adolescent needs for privacy, probably triggered by the mysteries of sex and aggression. A secret journal to me is actually anathema, and, I notice that many people who take that route, initially to escape advertising, get lonely there shut off from the crudities of real life, and return to an open journal.

I was gratuitously notified this morning by email (huh?!) that I was henceforth personna non grata.  Gee, he beat me to it! ~  ha ha ha ha ha ha.  I supopose that's equal in Britain to a punch in the nose. Well, I had more than enough of the snotty, superior, disturbed little gutter snipe.  (Gee, haven't had to use that expression since I lived in Australia.)

tar tar......

 

Barry

More later....

 

 

 

 

 

Beatrix Potter Anyone?

I never dreamed I'd get to see a photo of Beatrix Potter. Did you? Oh, you know already? You knew she was born in 1866?! You knew her Peter Rabbit children's adventure story was first published in 1902?

All the facts of the author's life are not the subject of this Entry. What I really want to talk about is 'why' and 'how' the story of Peter Rabit grabbed me so strongly it still casts a spell over me. It has been, and still is, far and away my most favorite children's story.  When I was a child the drawings for the story always instantly moved me. Today the same story brings back precious memories not only of my own childhood, but the childhood I sometimes shared with my same-age cousins in the country where rabbits were a constant fact of life on an Australian sheep station.  My own children have an edition of Peter Rabbit in which the drawings are by someone new: trouble is, they left out illustrating the climactic moment when Peter's blue coat, made by his most loving mother, gets caught in a net that prevents birds from ruining Farmer John's garden products. To escape, Peter must abandon his beautiful, new coat. The omission of this graphic strongly suggests the dynamics of the story have sometimes been misunderstood, or simply taken for granted.

Emboldened by this mistake I dare to conjecture on the reasons for the 100 plus years success with children and their parents this splendid story has enjoyed. A review of a just published biography of Beatrix Potter reports that the author paid extremely close watch on the artist's depictions of her characters, as well as on every other detail of the printing and marketting of her stories. This review, published in the LA Times on Sunday January 20, 2007, contains a photo of Beatrix taken in 1885. The photo is haunting, haunted, touching, strangely sad, private almost. One can thoroughly believe her statement, while we look at this photo, that she can remember vividly every event of her childhood, and enjoyed a lifelong love for Nature and animals.

Peter was disobedient. He stole the farmer's food. He lost his new coat given to him by his mother. He was very nearly caught and killed by the irate farmer.  He was stealing food at the very same time that his mother had taken her basket and set out alone to purchase food. In every detail this scenario matches events in my childhood. Just as did my mother, Peter's mother sheltered her precious son, didn't rebuke him or embarrass him with questions about his missing coat. Peter's mother, just like my mother, probably gritted her teeth, looked the other way, and allowed her son freedom in which to 'find' himself. 

I pray this somewhat unconventional interpretation doesn't ruffle feathers of the upright strict disciplinarians who may have other views.   

Barry  http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/

 

 

My Soviet Russian Dentist II

Thirteen years ago, unknown to me, my former Soviet  Russian dentist, a fine looking woman, blonde and Jewish, brought her Russian mother and stepfather to live in America. The stepfather is now in his 90's. He served in two wars. I sort of 'met' them in the waiting room just the other day. He dropped his cane while signing in. Later, when I was in the chair my dentist narrated a bit of her 'father's' history; she wanted me to know that there was history behind his insistence he go first. Wasn't necessary: I assumed he was simply scheduled first, and besides, I didn't immediately know he was a relative. I DID spot the mother though! Hey, when it comes to women I LOOK! and to heck with their age. Some things never die, in women too!

Thirteen years ago the elderly couple still had nothing. Life in Russia has always, I guess, been mighty tough. As Norman Mailer said when he returned from a research visit to see the Assassin of JFK's widow, Marina, "Why have we been persecuting a third world country?!??!"

I can't mention the name of my dentist because of the disgusting trolls AOL now gives free reign to write and post whatever they like, and, in fact AOL enables them!!

While doing high science in my mouth the good (well-trained!!) doctor told me that thirteen years ago when her parents first came to America she took them to dinner in Santa Monica. The latter is a nice place, but hardly exotic or overly expensive, and definitely not exclusive. Jane Fonda may still live there, but she's not into glitz. The doctor reminded me her 'father' had been in two wars, was given nothing, and was escaping a life antithetical to an old warrior tired and spent.

When the food arrived, in relays, the old warrior began to weep.

Can you understand how thrilled I was to be able to glimpse this small but significant piece of American history? After all, the Soviets had been out precious ally in WW2. I never, and will never, tire ot recounting that the Supreme commander of allied troops in Europe, general of the Army Dwight Eisenhower acceded to the Soviet's dearest wish to be the first to enter Berlin after their own version of the blitzkrieg across German from the East.  The British and the Americans bombed what was in the way: East German cities such as Dresden.

I pray this anecdote is not too ponderous.

Thanks for listening.

Barry       http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/

 

 

 

 

 

MLK Jr. DAY

Conversation with my son (age 11)

What day is this?

Monday, MLK Day

What did he do?

He gave the "I have a dream" speech

What did he say in that speech?

Ahhh .... mmmmmm....? errrrr......dunno!

He said Black people and white people

oughtta hold hands. It was a thunderclap.

It had never been said before, and certainly

not with the whole world watching and listening.

Of course that's what secretly or not so secretly

had been going on all along as every intelligent

and observant person in America knew full well.

MLK had in mind a metaphor, not to offend the

ignorant, but as he said explicitly he was in a

reckless mood that day and his quivering voice

could be plainly heard by all.

He paid the price for such truth-telling. Guns

were bought. Rifles too.

The interbreeding, a virtual conflagration, was

announced long agoby William Faulkner. We'd

"Bleach out like rabbits" he wrote.

There are certain places in Los Angeles County

where the bodies of the close to African forms

are still walking around. So beautiful!  And so

stunning because for most of us not seen every day.

The women enter the mainstram as, for example,

cashiers in Discount stores. You'd better not

patronize them, they'll bite your head off. One

extremely reckless day I blurted out, "You're a

very beautiful woman." Guess what she said?

She said, so kind, "Thank you."   PERFECT!

Barry

Mel Gibson

Instead of Googling and perusing what Mel Gibson's agent wants us to know about him on the Internet Movie resource, I'd like to simply ruminate using what little I already know and speculate about what forces might be driving his apparently personal, even private, wide ranging movie career. 

I don't know exactly what ages Mel Gibson spent in Australia so I assume he was young and impressionable and that the influence of his strong willed, highly independent father (defying Rome and established a splinter Catholic church in or near Malibu, California) contributed to Mel's Gung ho defiant personality and work ethic.

There are a few facts about Australia which almost comically fit Mel Gibson's personality. Notice, he isn't a snob.  If he'd been a snob (some Aussies are actually anti-snob, snobs, ha ha) he wouldn't have bothered to inform working class Malibu cops his ethnic views. In his stupor he probably thought he was enlightening them, fellow workers that they were.  Australians consider themselves, each one, an aristocracy of One.

In what was one of Gibson's early movies he played a very young "Digger." (Gallipoli; 1981 Australian, Dir. Peter Weir, director of the superb Witness ) To this day, just now, typing the word "Digger" gives me the shivers.  Aussie soldiers in WW1 1914 - 1918 dug so many trenches in their battles with the Turks they came to be called "Diggers." To be an authentic, actual Digger was an ultimate badge of pride. Every town and city in Australia has a memorial to those who died fighting on the side of England in WW1.  Thirty or so years later, in Korea, Australian troops were so feared the North Koreans and the Chinese on their side avoided that part of the line defended by Aussie troops.  I read that years ago in an American magazine. So, I hope that is enough to make the point that Gibson's fierce pride, independence, and pugnacious personality is not solely individual choice, it is also cultural conditioning reinforced by another 'digger,' his pugnacious father. (Note lower case.)

Do Americans know the extent to which Australia was originally a penal colony? That was the place Dickens had his character of Magwich in Great Expectations 'Transported' to. It would be in character if Mel Gibson's father boasts his forebears were convicts sent to Australia. I wouldn't mind doing the same thing! Ha ha ha. I actually enjoy conjecturing, in the absnece of proof, that my 'Jewish' grandmother, an early widow, came from a 'Transported' convict family.

In his movies Gibson likes to depict the underdog.  Scottish underdogs, Braveheart , American colonist underdogs resisting the cruel British troops, and a young Jewish cleric who had the temerity to infuriate the entire Roman empire causing Rome to wish him dead as fast as possible. They killed him but they didn't kill him dead. He rose again. Immitation of Christ is not only the title of a famous prayer book, it also somewhat describes Mel Gibson's death wish.  Let  me opine that most likely there are no educated, & / or religious Jews in Hollywood who hate Mel Gibson. Nah!  He's a figure of fun, and, best of all, a success!

Gibson played Hamlet in a damn good production directed by Franco Zeffirelli (1990).  Because of his youthful appearance and belligerant personality Gibson was almost better than Olivier in that most difficult role. Zeffirelli was so famous and so admired by that time you can bet Mel Gibson studied the production as well as his lines. Traditionally Hamlet is played as indecisive to the point of foppery. Gibson didn't make that mistake. Therefore, for example, the dueling scene is as good as it will ever be done. Mel likes to duel, ha ha ha....

It hurts to point them out but Mel the 'thinker' made two thinking mistakes in Passion of the Christ Perhaps befuddled by the growing charges of antiSemitism leveled at his production even before shooting was complete, he left out one of the most dramatic passages in The New Testament: he left out Christ driving the money changers from the temple grounds. Even worse than that he had the Chief Rabbi mock Jesus on the cross! It was bad enough that the actor he chose for the role was repulsive, but worse, he had the actor almost lisp his lines.

With that background it will be instructive to see what happens to Mel's most recent production APOCALYPTO when the Oscar voting comes in. Personally I can't wait. I'll be on pins and needles until I know the vote tallies. I figure makeup and cinematography are in the bag. Beyond that I simply pray for justice undiluted with spite.

Thank you for your indulgence.

Barry

http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

P.S.

Guess how many hardcover copies of Da Vinci Code have been published.  Give up? don't care? well here's the figure anyway:    48,000,000 Source, Catholic Digest 2006, "The Truth About The Da Vinci Code   :::  Answers for Catholics"

If, throwing in money from the movie, and imagining Damn Dan Brown was paid $10 for each hard cover sold, he'd have picked up some large change: more than half a BILLION dollars. Crime pays!!  Ha ha ha ha ha....

Of course some of that went to pay the lawyers in England for their defense of Brown in a plagiarism trial, which, unhappily, found him not guilty. He's guilty.

Don't bother to read it: it's trash in the Mystery genre.

More later after I've absorbed Catholic Digest's little booklet that came in a average sized letter envelope, along with a bundle of clippings and a note.

Here's a smidgen from one of the clippings:

"A Harris poll asked people in six countries: 'Do you believe in any form of God or any type of supreme being?' "

Percentage saying "yes," by country: USA 73; Italy 62; Spain 48 Germany 41;  Britain 35

The last sure is a shocker to me. For one thing, our Founding Fathers, all English Gentlemen, were for the most part Christian, and the Pilgrims were also Christian.

Barry

 

 

Preview

My long time (1960's to present day) friend in New York, an admirable Irish American Catholic, married to a lovely Italian American Catholic, Dick, aka Richard sent me a little booklet today I didn't know existed. It was published by Catholic Digest, 2006, and is titled

              The Truth About The Da Vinci Code

                       Answers for Catholics

I've just skimmed it casually. It is respectful of every attempt to deal with it's subject matter the claim that Mary Magdalene pregnant with a child via Jesus at the time of the crucifixion, went to France where their daughter gave birth to a line of French Royalty, all of which the Church covered up.

What I like, to be candid, is that this booklet may very well be a complete and satisfying debunking of Dan Brown's incredibly popular mystery novel.

The subject however is so complex it's hard to summarize. As an exercize I will attempt to take the booklet one step further and post in an Entry here what is true to the essence of the booklet, but without the diplomacy and respectful treatment. Then, if anyone is offended, they can retrace my steps, find the booklet from Catholic Digest, and make concrete their opinion.

I know, you may very well wish the whole subject would just go away. "Thinking," it has been pointed out to me, is not popular. Shucks. 

Barry             http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/

 

 

 

 

 

Shipwreck

An apparently wealthy Southern California sailor in the news has returned from near death off the coast of Chile where his 40 foot boat was nearly sunk in a storm. The Navy of Chile rescued the man and has sent a bill to the USA government to the tune of hundreds of thousands of dollars.

On television we were treated to a press conference attended by what appeared to be the sailor's entire family; one could only guess who was sister, offspring, wife, or mother. The father, looking old, and rich, was head down and silent.

The sailor's goal was to circumnavigate the globe, solo, a feat he said on TV had never been done. **  He sounded defensive, and looked sulky, very sulky for a man probably in his middle 40's. To avoid looking like a whipped dog he took the trouble to emphasize the characteristics of the huge storm wave that did him in. He took zero responsibility and blamed the weather for his demise.  Maybe that was why his father hung his head.  What strikes me as funny is that for his entire aborted voyage he made zero progress West to East, but only North to South. Was he planning to traverse the Straights of Magellan in winter?****  Was the man mad?!

** It's been done in an airplane, ha ha ha. Maybe he modified that to mean 'from the West Coast.'

**** Oops, it is Summer in the Southern Hemisphere! (Thank God for "Edit Entry")

How come that guy isn't in Iraq taking orders, instead of playing God-the-Sailor?   Of course, God the reluctant, rich soldier might be just as cockeyed.

Gee, I've lost the thread of this Entry. Forgive me.  It's bed time. Good night!

Barry

My Dentist

My dentist, a woman, was born in, and trained to be a dentist in Soviet Russia. She is Jewish. Her assistants are usually hispanic. I was born in Fresno, California, but spent part of my childhood in Australia. I've gone to my Russian Dentist for 20 years. The building in which she has her practice is apparently owned by Asian Americans. There is a nails and hair care emporium on the other side of the hall where all the technicians are Asian American.

Every once in a while I mention a Russian name, a Russian novel, ballerina, chess Grandmaster, politician or movie director.  After watching Pliezitskia (sp?) dance on TV via Classic Arts Showcase I raved about her to my dentist. She regretted never have seen her live.  In other words she's seen and read most of what I've seen and read. Russians and Americans actually get along splendidly, or woulda/coulda if it hadn't been for ugly politics. Did you know Billy Graham spoke in public in Soviet (communist) Russia? San Francisco's est Training was given in Russia.

 ______________________________

A male UK blogger has given me a lecture, by indirection, for the sin of definitely not finding him cute. What he may never, ever discover is that total and complete self absorption is the ultimate hell.

 __________________

So, let this slide by, that's okay by me, but I just had to vent.

 

Barry

 

 

   

Movie Chat

(Thoughts about recently released, still playing movie - in subject matter similar to the 1955 movie The Blackboard Jungle  - 

                         The Freedom Writers 

Glenn Ford as a Goody-Two-Shoes teacher
in the NY Ghetto 1955, with, for the first time
says critic Maltin, Rock music, Rock Around the Clock,
over the opening credits: was it persuasive, or
just an opportunity to see actors do their star turn?
Sidney Poitier doing his glamor smirk with
his voice so tweaked it might rip. The latest venture
in this genre is WRITING (forget full title, don't
tell me).

This new movie with Swank electricity, "Writing"

the word in the title, which title can't be any good if

I can't remember it, produced by the cute/smart

short guy from TAXI co-producing is great while you

watch, not easy to anticipate, but at home you get hit with

the nagging question: "What the hell was all that

really about?" My son and his friend saw the movie in

the afternoon - I drove him there, and his friend's mother

picked them up: Son said it was good so his mother

and I went in the evening. Not sorry.  But, it does contain

some interesting failings.

Number One: be verry careful about bringing in the Holocaust.

This movie not only brought it in, they evern trundled in a most

lovely old lady, completely believable, Anne Frank's friend

and protector, to talk to the children about - well, what DID she

tell the children? Violence is bad? Good.  What else? These

are kids, characters, who've never read a book, children

for whom WW2 was a movie.

CRASH brought in the Holocaust: for five seconds, max.

If you're gonna have a love story, a marriage for example,

get into trouble while sending the audience a 'message'

you'd better not make one ot the parties villainous.

What additional virtues does Swank's character acquire

by having her husband leave her? None, zip.

This movie suffers from a "Superfluity of overt intention."

Some of the young people students were mighty attractive,

and good actors, who will get even better. 

Swank is solid gold. As usual.

Barry

Themes of Movies

I have the theme, I made up the theme of Mel Gibson's fine movie APOCALYTO.  Ready?  Da da.....

 

        Christians Saved The Americas

 

Barry

An irony of course is the slave trade which shames North America, particularly since the motive was originally to simply grow lucrative cotton crops for sale worldwide. An irony on top of an irony is that as a result America's gene pool was enriched far beyond mere price.

Barry 

My AOL Journal

I just tried to add something, anything, to my AOL Message Board signature space. I selected:

              Love is a long close scrutiny

                        -   Don't remember the source

 

By a vote, so claims a hideously sadistic fellow message board poster, I am not allowed to have a signature space; I thought the ban was confined to my having a Link to this AOL Journal. No, I am verboten. (I give that in German on purpose). Any suggestions?    -  Barry