HOW ABOUT A SOAP OPERA!?

OUR PLAYERS: Juanita, the most beautiful girl in the village....

...and Roderigo, the brave bullfighter!

Announcer: "In our last episode, Roderigo shocked everybody by announcing that that he was canceling the marriage between himself and the beautiful Juanita! It seems that Roderigo got wind of a rumor spreading around the village to the effect that Juanita previously had a secret baby by the wealthy playboy and cad, Frenando Lopez.

Announcer (CONT): "Lopez can't be found and for some mysterious reason Juanita refuses to answer direct questions on the subject."

Announcer (Cont): "Roderigo, in an effort to forget Juanita, fled into the arms of the sultry village vamp, Carlita, and led a life of dissipation! In our last episode Juanita met Roderigo in the local cheese shop and begged him to take her back."

Juanita: "Why Roderigo? Why!? Everything was going so well! I'm still the same person you loved only weeks ago!"

Roderigo: "Hah! Love? You talk to me of love? What does a woman like you know of love!? And what do you know of honor?"

Juanita: "What do I know? I'll tell you what I know! I know the pure love of a woman when she loves from the depth of her soul! And honor? There is nothing more sacred to me than honor!"

Roderigo: "Well, in that case you'll be interested to know that I've decided to fight 'El Tigre', the greatest bull ever to set foot in the arena!"

Juanita: (Gasp!) "El Tigre!??? The mad killer!? The bull that's put two matadors under the ground!?!??"

Roderigo: "The very same!"

Juanita (CONT): "Roderigo, that's insane! With your gimp leg...the one you got rescuing that old lady...you wouldn't stand a chance! Fighting that bull would be suicide!"

Roderigo: "Perhaps so. What do you care?"



Juanita: "Then it is I who will leave this life first! If I'm the cause of your misery then I don't want to live!"

Roderigo (shocked): Juanita, wait! For God's sake, throw that devil blade to the ground! If anything were to happen to you, I couldn't bear it!

Roderigo (CONT): "Come to me little one! Let us put aside this rancor! Let us forget the past! We each know the worst about the other. Surely there is nothing new! This nearly broke us, but... "

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Roderigo: "Huh?"

Juanita: "Wha...?"



KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!!!!!!



Announcer: "A simple knock at the door and everything is disturbed. Why? What are Juanita and Roderigo afraid of?

Announcer (CONT); "Does it have anything to do with an alleged baby? Or is something even darker and more disturbing about to enter their lives?

Join us next week for the next thrilling episode of...."THE SECRET STORM!"


Hey, do you have a digital camera? Then why not take a crack at doing the next episode of "Secret Storm" yourself? Post it on your site and I'll link to it! I may even swipe it and put it up here...with attribution, of course!

HIGH MAINTENANCE WOMEN

Here's (above) my all-time favorite Bette Davis scene, from "Of Human Bondage." I just saw it at Mike's house. She's a wonderful over-the-top actor but when I see scenes like this I can't help asking myself what it would be like to live with someone like that. It would be a rollercoaster ride, no doubt about it.


Women like to think that men prefer stupid women, but if they do they never told me about it. The men I talked to overwhelmingly prefer smart women. The problem is that smart women are sometimes very high strung. If you're married to someone like this you better expect strong and frequent arguments over small things, and major crises on a frequent basis.





The complicating factor is that some high-strung, high-maintenance women are worth it, at least their men think so. Some guys crave the stimulation. Well, each to his own.

BTW, none, absolutely NONE of this, refers to people I know!

THE BEST WAY TO DIE

On Thanksgiving night, after our friends left and my family was asleep, I watched again the recent film about Edith Piaf called "La Vie En Rose." It's an interesting film. It gives her an horrific childhood, fame in mid-life, and loneliness and isolation in old age. The old Piaf would lay flat on her back in bed with the covers pulled way up to her eyes, shivering with fear in the dark. Maybe she was afraid she'd go to hell. Maybe she was just terrified to be at the brink of death.


Watching this I wondered if hers was the wrong way to die. I always imagined myself dying the philosophers death where I calmly said goodbye to family and friends, and maybe even joked a little. That's not what Piaf did. She was terrified and tortured. I wondered who had the better plan.





Maybe Piaf did. I remember what Homer said about what we would call tragic heroes. The hero finds what he's good at and enters into a mystical relationship with it. He sacrifices everything to be the best at it. He may be a lousy father and husband, he may have bad table manners, but he's the best at something and that's no small thing. When the end comes, such a hero dies badly. There was never any attempt at balance in his life. He lived to experience life at its fullest through his skill, and nothing in his experience prepares him for death. He dies crying and digging his fingers into the ground. And Homer says it's a good death.

Maybe the kind of person who lives life well is incapable of dying well. Maybe living life well requires us to love life too much to casually put it aside.

Or...maybe Piaf was neurotic and her extreme attachment to her lovers was a sign that her life was lived badly. What do you think?

THANKSGIVING 2007

I was dying to post some some Wally Wood and Don Martin parodies of Thanksgiving but alas, they weren't available to scan. Maybe it's just as well because looking for them led me to discover this magnificent photo (above) of Canadian troops observing a thanksgiving service in WWI. The small version of this picture doesn't convey a shred of the grandeur of the occassion. On pain of death, be sure to click to enlarge.

I wonder what they were praying for? Maybe it was to give thanks for a recently won victory. I like to think that they were giving thanks for the wonders they'd seen in their lifetimes. It would be very touching if soldiers, who must lead a miserable life during wartime, could stop to be grateful for the gift of life...not just for survival, but for the sheer wonder of it all.



Here's (above) a mid-Civil War picture. The emotions here certainly seem heart-felt. Click to enlarge.

Here's a Victorian family (above) enjoying after-dinner coffee together. Of course the baby participates. Didn't they give gin to babies in those days?

Here's the classic Norman Rockwell picture, with ice cream substituted for Turkey.

And a Wally Wood varient.

Here's (above) a terrific picture of a family celebrating the holiday together. It's meant to be seen large so be sure to click on it.

I was tempted to run several pictures like this. I find happy famiies to be endlessly fascinating.

YMA SUMAC

The queen of exotic records in the 50s was Yma Sumac. I'm guessing she was Peruvian. She took exotic elements from all over the world, including Polynesia, and blended them with her own native Peruvian music to make a mix that was full of mystery and the promise of adventure.

Sumac had a unique voice that could sing comfortably in five octaves. People were always asking, "Who's the guy she sings with?" Well, the guy was Yma sumac. She was a whole ensemble, all by herself .

Here she is (above) in the Andes.

Here she is in Mike F's harem (above). How did she get in there? Man, Mike is gonna be mad when he finds out!

GREETINGTH, POETRY LOVERTH!

This poem of Longfellow's is one of the funniest I know, rivaling even "Jabberwocky." One of these days I hope I'll get a chance to animate it.

It was taken very seriously in it's day. Towns were named for it as were high schools, an aircraft carrier, a TV space ship, a corporation, a bath mat, and shipping fodder. There's even a book called "Excelsior, You Fathead," which is my very favorite name for a book. If you're not familiar with this poem , then read on. Excelsior!

MY FAVORITE HIPPIE PHOTOGRAPHER

I'm no fan of the hippies but I have to admit that they came up with some interesting graphic ideas. The best hippie photographer I know of was Jerry Ulesmann. What imagination! I'd love to stand in a real philosopher's study like the one he did above, and see tumultuous clouds overhead. Click to enlarge. Imagine experiencing the wind and smells you encounter just before a thunderstorm while simultaneously feeling the staid, musty smell of a book-filled room. Why can't we have weather- protected rooms with no ceilings?

Actually, I have this in my own house, sort of. I have a sleeping porch with a bed where most months of the year I can wake up to the dew and that early morning fresh smell. It's unbelievably great to sleep out there in a thunderstorm, completely protected yet sort of in the thick of things at the same time. Learn from Jerry Ulesmann! Get a sleeping porch!

What a great house (above) for a witch! I wish we had more trees with thick, exposed roots in the suburbs. We have to redesign the suburbs to make them more exciting and mysterious.

I absolutely love the idea of suburbs, where you can have some of the rural experience within commuting distance of a great city. I even love the idea that prices were made low enough so that ordinary people could afford to live that way. We've had the inevitable first wave of Levittown-type shoebox houses, now it's time to design the first cool suburbs...with the help of people like Ulesmann.

Nice (above), very nice.

This image has become something of a cliche in fantasy films, but there's still something to be learned from it. Nobody knows how to make things float in the air but the best architects know how to make things appear to be so light that they almost seem to float. Think how the cathedral builders made it appear that thin pillars were holding up massive ceilings. The idea of appearing to defy gravity in a serene, natural setting is gold for the architect.

I once took a train ride through mountains in the early morning. We raced along tunnels and high wooden trestles and I watched the first light struggle to get a foothold. You could see mist creeping through through dark ravines and pathways just like the picture above. Actually, it looked even more like the eerie mist in DeMille's "Ten Commandments," the one that killed the son of the Pharoh.

What is morning mist but vapor in the air? I'd like to have morning mist outside my window and live in an environment that would heighten the effect, wouldn't you? That may be an achievable thing for an engineer or for architects who know how to maximize it . This is what I like about Ulesmann. He's a true artist in the sense that he gives us something to shoot for. He stimulates invention by giving us tantalizing glimpses of what could be.

Cataracts (above)! Ulesmann's right, we need more cataracts! And we need light elements nearby, like boats or leafy trees.