Category Archives: Art

A little something for Mike and Burl to enjoy

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Mike Fitts has always been a valued friend and colleague, but the nicest thing he ever did for me was turn me on to Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey-Maturin novels — which, if you haven’t read them, are best described as being about a couple of fascinating characters living and fighting their way through the Napoleonic Wars, mostly at sea. But that’s pretty inadequate. You’d have to read them.

I’ve often mentioned the books here on the blog, but the only person I can remember responding that he’d even read them was Burl Burlingame, so Burl, this is for you, too. My eldest daughter subscribes to The New Yorker, and she is aware of my obsession (I’m now reading the early books in the series for the fourth time), so she made a point of showing this to me. And I very much enjoyed it. I suspect that the artist is an O’Brian fan, as well. Who else would have looked at New York tour buses and thought of this?

So what we have here is a couple of first-rates (four-deckers!) at the start of an engagement loosing their full broadsides. They each throw about the same weight of metal, but the one on the right would appear to have had the weather gage, given the direction in which the American colors of the bus to larboard are blowing. Their captains each seem to know what they’re about, except I’d have to fault both of them for firing full broadsides too soon. Rippling broadsides, with each gun firing as the target bears, would have been wiser, and less of a waste of powder and shot. Of course, in the case of the vessel to starboard, the full broadside may have been fired for strategic reasons. You’ll note that he has suddenly spun his helm sharply to larboard, possibly with the intention of boarding the American in his smoke. Either that, or he means to cut even more sharply so as to rake his stern. Either way, the captain to the right appears to be more of the Nelson school, as in Never mind maneuvers, always go straight at ’em, a true fighting captain who is taking full advantage of the weather gage…

Now for the rest of you, I’m sure that didn’t make much sense. But I thought Mike and Burl would enjoy it.

Today’s header: Sanford, the media and me

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Just a quick note about the latest header picture on my Home page.

This was taken by Jim Hammond of SCBiz (formerly of The State) during the gov’s confessional press conference on June 24. I’m there representing The New York Post. Around me you can see Temple Ligon of the Columbia Star (to my right, your left), Tim Smith with The Greenville News (cowboy hat), Peter Hamby of CNN, John O’Connor of The State (on crutches) and Mary Ann Chastain with The Associated Press (photographer, far right of photo).

You know the rest of the story.

Tonight’s header picture: Rusty and Rudy

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Since I unveiled the New Look several people have complimented me on the photos. Of course, I’ve been changing them out so fast that you’ve probably missed some of them. For instance, I just took down one of Stephen Colbert and me, and put up the one you see now on my home page, which shows Rudy Giuliani in Columbia back in 2007, while he was still a contender in the GOP nomination race.

Like most of the pictures I’m using (except the ones other people shot of me with somebody), I shot it with my little digital Canon, which you see me using to shoot video of Obama in the picture you get when you call up individual posts. Here’s the video I was shooting, by the way.

The one now gracing my home page was taken on August 14, 2007, at the convention center in Columbia. Here’s video I shot at the same event. I chose this image because, even though the focus and resolution aren’t great, it worked with the extreme-horizontal format. So we’re talking form over content. But let’s examine the content: Local political trivia buffs will see some familiar faces sitting listening to Rudy, such as Gayle Averyt and Rusty DePass. Rusty, who plays piano at my Rotary, made some news of his own recently, until the governor was kind enough to draw attention away from him.

And just to get WAY deeper into the recent political past than you probably care to go, here’s a piece Rusty wrote back at about this time explaining why he was for Rudy.

One thing this blog’s got, folks, is depth. Layers upon layers of info, whether you want it or not…

I’ll explain another picture tomorrow. And yes, the photo below is from the same event.

“All the News that Gives You Fits”

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Most of the reactions to my blog’s new look have been positive — so thanks to all for that (and I’m still working on it, so I hope you’ll like it even more as we go forward).

But the new look has caused a number of you to question the tagline that I’ve used for the last few years (you can still see it here on my old blog): “You’re either on the blog or you’re off the blog.” It was, of course, a paraphrase of what Ken Kesey told the Merry Pranksters: “You’re either on the bus or you’re off the bus.” More specifically, here’s the full quote from when he spelled out the policy — which was a reference to state of mind as well as physical location:

There are going to be times when we can’t wait for somebody. Now, you’re either on the bus or off the bus. If you’re on the bus, and you get left behind, then you’ll find it again. If you’re off the bus in the first place — then it won’t make a damn.

Anyway, for years, I’ve thought about whether to stick with that, or go with the one you see up there now: “All the News that Gives You Fits.” This is a play on the Rolling Stone slogan (“All the News That Fits“), which is in turn a play on The New York Times‘ “All the News That’s Fit to Print.”

It’s also the official motto of The Status Quo, the fictional newspaper featured in a comic strip that Robert Ariail and I planned, but never fully executed, back in the 90s. The strip was set in the capital of a small Southern state, and it also featured:

A protagonist named Hampton “Sugarboy” Shealy Ravenel (or something like that), who was a lobbyist and general all-around fix-it man who may not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but knew everybody and meant well. I got the nickname from Robert Penn Warren, and the idea for the character from Randy Newman (“…college men from LSU/Went in dumb, come out dumb, too./Hustlin’ ’round Atlanta in they alligatuh shoes/Gettin’ drunk every weekend at the barbecue…”).
Auntie Bellum, the owner of the boarding house where our anti-hero lived. She is already a regular character in Robert’s cartoons. You’ve seen her before — such as in this cartoon and in this one and in this one — you just didn’t know she had a name.
The state’s junior senator, Grits Holler, and the senior senator, Storm Thunder. We thought we’d introduce the characters by initially introducing Grits merely as The Junior Senator, and he would be drawn looking like a centenarian.
Two mice, named Sol and Edgar, who lived in the Statehouse and who, unbeknownst to everyone except our hero, actually wrote all of the legislation that ever passed. They did so at night, when no one was looking. The protagonist’s value as a lobbyist arose from his close relationship with the mice.

Anyway, you get the idea. A mix of political satire and Mayberry-style downhome gags. Sometimes the strip would consist merely of dialogue among boarding house residents settin’ on the porch shelling peas for Auntie Bellum, a la Andy and Barney. Other story lines were less down-to-earth — such as a recurring thing where Sugarboy gets taken up into the spaceship by aliens who take the form of two-headed Elvis impersonators. Anyway, the whole thing was too Southern for the folks in New York who Robert tried to sell it to. So we set the project aside.

I’m sufficiently fond of some of the characters and situations that, since the strip didn’t fly, I now and then think of writing a novel based on the characters — less cartoony, of course, more serious, but some of the same characters and situations. Now that I’m unemployed, I’m thinking more and more about that novel…

All of which makes me happy to turn to The Status Quo for my new catchphrase, which — knowing the backstory as I do — at least makes me smile…

Origins of the Moonwalk (video)

Just to take a break on a different subject, I thought I’d share something that my friend Cheryl Levenbrown in New York posted on Facebook. It’s a link to a blog post with a couple of interesting videos tracing the history of Michael Jackson’s Moonwalk. Its lineage goes back to Cab Calloway in the 30s.

I’m not what you’d call a Michael Jackson fan, and I’m certainly not the dance connossieur that my wife and daughters are, but I always did find the Moonwalk pretty impressive. It seemed to defy gravity and time simultaneously, as though we were looking at film of someone in near-zero gravity, and the film was being run backward. Or something. Basically, it didn’t look possible.

And while Jackson added his own refinements and earned the distinction of uniqueness in this area, everything has roots. And these videos show the roots.

Weather haiku

Just thought I’d convert a tweet from this morning…

Is it too much to ask for a nice, steady drizzle for a day or two? My lawn needs it, these T-storms have been all boom, little wet.

… into verse:

This week’s thunderstorms
have been all big, crashing noise,
too little water.

This, of course, is more in keeping with the spirit of haiku (nature themes) than my usual news-oriented poems.

Comfort reading

People speak of “comfort food.” Not being all that much into food myself, that’s not what I turn to to settle me when I need settling. In times of stress, I tend to turn to certain books that are familiar and comforting to read.

Not because of…

SORRY! I THOUGHT I HAD SAVED THIS AS A DRAFT LAST NIGHT! I WOULD PULL IT IF Y’ALL HADN’T ALREADY LEFT MYSTIFIED COMMENTS.

ONLY THING TO DO IS TO GO AHEAD AND FINISH…

Not because of … the subject matter, necessarily, but because it is familiar. Sometimes “comfort books” for me are ones I enjoyed from the very first read — such as Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey-Maturin novels, which I’ve got to get somebody other than Mike Fitts (who turned me onto them, several years back) to read, so we can exchange esoteric references, because it’s fun. Other times it’s books I didn’t even like the first time I read them, but got hooked on subsequently.

The Aubrey-Maturin books (which you may associate with the film “Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World,” which is based upon them, but which is an inadequate summation) are so engaging because they so completely put you in another world. But it’s not a fantasy universe like in Tolkien, but a magnificently detailed recreation of the British Navy during the Napoleonic Wars. Jack Aubrey, one of the two main characters (the other is his particular friend Stephen Maturin), is based loosely upon Lord Cochrane, and most of the naval engagements described come straight from contemporary logs and gazette accounts.

The detail, from speech patterns (both formal and casual) to politics to popular culture to social arrangements to politics to the complexities of sailing a square-rigged vessel in all conditions all around the world. is so engagingly rendered that it removes you from whatever is going on in your dull contemporary existence. And when you’ve been away from these books, you’re as anxious to get back to them as Jack is always anxious to get back to sea after another of his disastrous (and often comically so) spells on dry land.

There are 20 books in the series, which are wonderful read individually or as one long, magnificent work. Or at least, that’s true through the 16th book, which is as far as I’ve read because I dread getting to the end of them and having no more new ones to read. Having finished the 16th a few weeks ago, I’ve started reading the previous books for the fourth time, and they are as fresh as ever. They are just so rich that there’s always something new. But the remembered, familiar passages are so enjoyable that you’re glad you remembered them, and happy to be experiencing them again.

And, did I mention, comforting?

Some other comfort books, that I’ve read to tatters:

Stranger in a Strange Land — This is the one I was thinking of when I said a comfort book doesn’t HAVE to be something I enjoyed the first time. I wrote a rather savage essay about this one in high school, despising it at the start. But it really grew on me, and I’ve worn out a couple of copies. (Why, oh why has this never been made into a movie? I’ll write the screenplay if no one else will…)
Dune — ONLY the first book. I hated the sequels. I’m on my second copy. Yes, the book that inspired the worst big-budget movie ever made…
Battle Cry — Here’s a weird personal fact about Leon Uris’ opus about the Marines in WWII: I first read it at the same time I bought “Abbey Road,” in October 1969, and to this day listening to the album (especially the second side) reminds me of the novel, and vice versa. I told you it was weird.
The Dirty Dozen — You probably didn’t even know there WAS a novel. Well, there was, and it was way better than the movie (as close to a violation of the Guy Code as it may be to say that). I read it when I was 14, and it was the first “adult” novel I remember reading. Long and involved, I practically memorized it. For years, I could remember the names of every one of the dozen cons without looking at the book, and probably still could, if you gave me a few minutes. Talk about your useless information.
The Once and Future King — I’m really into Arthurian legend (hey, kids, guess why the Harry Potter story is so appealing! It only rips off the best legends of the English-speaking peoples!), and this is the best version I’ve run across. Although I also have read and reread and enjoyed an obscure attempt to place Arthur in a realistic 6th-century setting, The Pendragon.
High Fidelity — Again, a good movie, but a WAY better book. Nick Hornby is great. Probably the best-ever evocation of the differences between the way male and female minds work. We don’t come out looking too good, guys, but it’s a fun read, anyway. One great passage: The protagonist’s girlfriend is explaining that he’s just too miserable to be around, and that if he isn’t happy he should Get Happy, and she stops him before he interrupts and says, Yes, I know that’s the name of an Elvis Costello album; that’s why I said it — to get your attention… Boy, did that feel familiar.

Well, I could go on and on, but you get the idea…

Netflix guilt

Like I don’t have enough things to worry about, now I’m coping with Netflix Guilt.

It goes like this:

Once, a year or so ago, I put “Bloody Sunday” onto my list, figuring I should take more interest in how the Troubles started. Somehow it wriggles its way to the top of the queue, and comes to my house. I watch a bit of it. It’s shot in a documentary style. I can pick out, early on, characters who are Not Going to Make It. They are, of course, sympathetic characters. I know they represent real people, not fiction. I know there’s nothing I can do the inevitable slide toward this brief orgy of violence. It takes me about five tries to get almost all the way through the movie, and I still haven’t accomplished it, weeks later. I feel like I don’t care enough about violence in Ireland if I don’t watch it to the end, so I haven’t sent it back.

Trying to turn away from “Bloody Sunday,” I order “The Wrestler,” which has gotten all sorts of good reviews. I start watching it. I can see why it got good reviews. Have to wonder, does Mickey Rourke’s body actually look like that, or is that fake. Can see that this character’s “arc” is not upward. Quickly get tired of the seediness, and the character’s sadness, despite early glimpses of Marisa Tomei nearly nude. Feel like I have to watch it to the end, because this is a Serious Movie.

But I don’t want to.

Hence, Netflix Guilt.

I also have “Defiance.” Should I start watching it instead, if I actually get time for movie watching tonight? And… he asks with trepidation — will I like it any better? Will it be any better than the second James Bond movie he did? And if it isn’t, will I still feel like I have to watch it because it’s about a serious historical subject? Probably.

So should I do the “Hitler” gig, or what?

My agent is out of town at the moment, so I thought I’d ask y’all what I should do with this offer that came in the mail:

This September, Workshop Theatre will present its opening show of the season, the hilarious musical by Mel Brooks, “The Producers”…

… At the end of the first act, there are auditions for the individual who will play Hitler. We thought it would be fun to invite well-known members of the community to make cameo appearances during the run of the show as individuals auditioning for that part. It is not necessary that you be able to sing or even carry a tune.

We invite you to have your fifteen minutes [maybe five?] of fame on Workshop Theatre’s stage by making an appearance in “The Producers.”

It’s tempting, especially since I saw that video that Burl shared, which I feel gave me new insight into the character of der Führer. But I can sort of hear my agent’s voice saying, “Mark my words: Do it, and you’ll be typecast.”

But I’m leaning toward taking it. Directors aren’t exactly beating down my door, and so far, my calendar’s pretty open in September and October.

Today’s live, breaking haiku

From the live streaming of the Supreme Court arguments:

Hearing Jean and Dick,
I have to wonder: Why can’t
smart folk run our state?

Of course, you could argue that the über-smart Jean Toal does at least participate in running our state, as Chief Justice. But you know what I mean — why can’t such obviously smart people be involved in the day-to-day governance, both making our laws and executing them?

The ever-clever Dick Harpootlian, for his part, DID run for high state office — and lost to Charlie Condon — then consoled himself by making huge amounts of money in the private sector. Which, ironically, should make HIM the darling of the anti-government GOP right, instead of the perpetual public employee Mark Sanford.

Jean was a marvel in the Legislature as well, as I recall. But once one is on the court, we groundlings seldom get exposed in a direct way to her erudition. So this is enjoyable.

I’m going to try to keep this point in mind as we search for a new governor.

First news haiku: “Judge Joe sent it back”

Here at bradwarthen.com — always first with the burst in verse — we’re (note use of royal “we;” I got it from the governor) unveiling a new communication format today: the news haiku.

Twittering got me to thinking haiku, and therefore this was inevitable. I see it as a way to one-up the competition. Although I beat WIS with the news that Judge Joe Anderson had sent the stimulus lawsuits back to state court, I lost out slightly to thestate at Twitter. I thought, But I’ll bet they don’t have it in verse. And I was right.

So here’s my first breaking news haiku:

Mark sued to get feds
to override our state’s rights.
Judge Joe sent it back.

Yes, I know there are weaknesses in it from a literary standpoint — for instance, the “it” in the last line lacks a clear antecedent. For instance, it doesn’t work as a reference to “rights,” but rather to the issue itself. But I liked it better than “them.” And hey, cut me a break. I wrote this on Twitter while driving my truck through Shandon (I pulled over to type it, but didn’t turn off the truck). Therefore this opus should be judged by a different standard from the timeless masterpieces of haiku. It’s a whole new form.

In the future, someone will write an English thesis about this new form, which experts will variously call “Twitter haiku,” or “Twitter-ku,” or simply “news haiku,” which I prefer. That moment in my truck will be examined with the same care as that moment when the rude guy from Porlock interrupted Coleridge. Just watch…

If this is well received, I might start doing it daily. And if it’s not, I might do it anyway. Art will not be repressed!

Ariail in color!

You saw it here second — Robert Ariail has posted a full-color cartoon on his blog. You may notice that the colors are somewhat richer than what you’ll see from most cartoonists who have climbed on the color bandwagon in recent years. They usually look about as good as Ted Turner’s first efforts at ruining great old movies by “colorizing” them.

Robert, being a purist — he’s always been a strict pen, brush and ink guy, without any digital manipulation, which is one reason why his cartoons are so good — had resisted the trend. But when a client made a special request, Robert of course met the need with his usual meticulous craftsmanship. Here’s his explanation:

Folks, this is a color version of a recent cartoon. It was commissioned by The Washington Post Weekly Edition for their next cover. Since I don’t have the hardware to color my stuff on-line, I did this the old-fashioned way with watercolor.

Robert

Robert sets himself a tough standard, as always — and meets it.