Jimmy Carter II: The long awaited sequel

By now it's nearly impossible for all but the most devoted fans of President Trump to put a positive spin on his second term.  Second terms are often a bugger when it comes to presidential legacies. After all, the driving motivation of the first term - getting a second term - has already been fulfilled. 

Nonetheless, we also know that second terms can yield some pretty good results.  I'm looking at you President Reagan.  Sadly, so far at least, President Trump's second term is not going in that direction.  At least it isn't yet.  

Like Carter, we have lag over of an economic downturn that continues to plod along.  Toward the end of last year, things did seem to be improving.  Finally.  Prices were going down, and if incomes weren't exactly skyrocketing, affordability getting better was a good enough compromise.

But since the Iran conflict, they've done an about face once again.  True, in some areas they aren't as high as 2022/2023 when the MSM assured us the economy was as strong and healthy as ever, and inflation but a minor blip in an overall robust economy.  But it's been going on a half dozen years of these high prices, and the strain is beginning to break a lot of people.    

Despite the media universally supporting the message, President Obama was unable to spend eight years assuring us that all problem with the anemic economic recovery were anyone else's fault.  I doubt it will work for President Trump without such MSM backing. 

Then we have the Iran debacle.  And debacle it is.  It should be mentioned that his usual clowning isn't funny anymore:

His 'let me be funny and troll them all' schtick has largely grown stale as the problems mount and the solutions seem far removed from his field of vision.  It's just not amusing when it's clear that Iran knows it has the cards to  play and the Administration no clear way to wrap this up.  I mean, even the most sympathetic analysis has to admit this is the case. It puts me in mind of the Iran Hostage crisis.  Whatever happens will depend largely on Iran or, from the looks of it, someone else in the White House.  Unless things take a major turn.  And in a bit of irony, I'm hearing Trump supporters admit this, though in a backward sort of way.  That is, they're saying Iran is just trying to hold out until the next president comes along, hoping it will be some leftwing President that Iran can then manhandle.  But even if that's the case, then it's still a loss for President Trump.  And a big one at that. 

Is he getting older, slower, and less sparky than his first term?  Sure.  Like all in the generation that won't give up the reigns, he's getting up there.  I couldn't deny noticing a marked difference in his energy and interactions compared to his first term.  Sure, it's nowhere close to President Biden's cognitive unraveling, but it's still there. 

I know, I know. I've never been a Trump fan.  But I also didn't want to go never-Trumper bat crazy either.  I've tried to give credit where it was due.  Especially in his first term, where even the most cynical critics had to concede that things took a turn for the better under President Trump.  And not just in the wallet.  He was scoring some impressive victories at home and abroad. 

But this time?  Not so much.  I'm not saying he's done nothing.  He clearly has scored some hits. But in the areas where it matters - the bank accounts and pocket books of Joe and Jane America - it's still lagging far below where they need.  And if things don't improve, given the growing 'we're against whoever is the establishment status quo of the day' movement, I expect some pretty stunning results at the November voting booth.  Not that it makes me happy, but where politics is concerned, I've always tried to be a realist.  

And this is looking past his continued 'total pro-life today, but tomorrow you never know' approach to almost anything.  In some ways, I've said President Trump is America's Id.  He's a bodily incarnation of almost everything we've been building as a society for the last century.  And when I say that, it's not supposed to be a compliment.  Either for President Trump, or for America under our watch for these last generations.  

What spending almost a month and a half listening to the Administration say it will be 

all over in Iran in a couple weeks reminded me of. 

Challenge accepted

"The four kings of EMI are sitting stately on the floor"

Speaking of my youngest son, he recently asked an ancient question that still brings much controversy and debate even today.  That is, regarding the album The Beatles, more famously known as The White Album, which songs would I keep and which ones eliminate?  If you recall, I did a series of posts on my opinion about the least good to best Beatles albums.  Naturally The White Album was brought up. It is most famous for showcasing the quick unraveling of the Beatles camp, with each of the band members more or less producing their own songs while the others went their ways.  

They had come back from India with over thirty new compositions, and wanted thirty to be on the next album, for a double album of original material.  The problem was, their producer, the famous fifth Beatle George Martin, felt many of the songs were subpar at best.  He argued that if they cut the number of songs in half and ditched the lesser ones, they would have a great album, perhaps one of their best ever.  But by then, Martin's opinion was having less and less of an impact.  So it was the full monty.  

When it was released, it obviously went to number one.  But for really the first time, critics were mixed, and many said it was disjointed and inconsistent in style and quality.  Of course today, it stands as one of their greatest, and one of the greatest of all time.  Largely because it shows where they were moving as individuals by that point in the band's rather brief time together.  

Nonetheless, never one to shrink from a fun challenge that costs nothing, I thought I would step up to the plate and make my case for which of the songs should stay, and which could be let go, in order to have that greatest of all albums.  I'll start with the first album of the two, then the second, in order of the songs as they appear.  

ALBUM 1

Back in the USSR

The 'hook' that producer George Martin so valued.  That first song on an album needed to grab the listener.  Largely Paul's production, it's not his greatest, but as an homage to, among other things, a Beach Boys vibe, it works, and is too good to jettison.

Verdict: Keep

Dear Prudence

An idyllic Lennon piece, using the name of a friend he got to know in India.  It's a perfect segue from Paul's USSR.  As a set, they demonstrate well the radical differences between Lennon and McCartney as songwriters, especially by the White Album's recording sessions.  And, in its own way, a good song.  Paul's bass work is alone worth the listen.   

Verdict: Keep

Glass Onion 

A Lennon rant, largely aimed at Paul.  By now the cracks were showing, and this song is Lennon venting.  "I told you about the fool on the hill, I tell you  man he's living there still"?  "Here's another clue for you all, the walrus was Paul"?  Yeah, we get it.  Not a bad song, and a good listen, but a bit 'give it a rest John.'  If pressed for space, it can go.

Verdict: Scrap

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

The much maligned Paul ditty so famously hated by Lennon. It's problem isn't that it's not a fun listen.  But by now Paul was obsessed with production and seemed to think that if you took Mary Had a Little Lamb and poured three months of production onto it, you could make it into an operatic masterpiece.  Still, it's fun, and I don't care what people say, you can't help but tap your toes when it's on. 

Verdict: Keep 

Wild Honey Pie

Burn it with fire.  The Beatles earned the right to be goofy, and many of their studio tricks became a Beatles staple.  Even the wonky You Know My Name, Look Up My Number is earned given their contributions to modern music and the recording industry. But that is no excuse for this hunk of audio garbage. 

Verdict: Scrap 

The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill

Another case of Lennon sermonizing.  This was a dig at America's war machine in Vietnam and the general tendency of America to fight and want to win wars.  It's OK, but not Lennon at his best.  With both albums present, I'm glad it's there, but if we have to cut, it goes. The clearly discernable vocalizing of Yoko Ono only makes the vote easier. 

Verdict: Scrap

While My Guitar Gently Weeps

What can I say.  I know people who don't like the Beatles who concede this is a great song.  With Eric Clapton on guitar, some say it isn't just one of the Beatles' best, but one of the best of all time. Certainly George at the top of his game.  Easiest vote on the album. 

Verdict: Keep

Happiness is a Warm Gun

The first of the Wacky Three.  Taken as a single song, this is pure Lennon.  I don't think getting rid of this works, because it's Lennon in all his 'throw the rules out with the bathwater' glory.  Almost five different song ideas smashed together, they say that all four of the Beatles agreed this was the most fun to record during the White Album sessions. When joined with the next two, the song is even better at showing the vast sweep of styles the Beatles could produce. 

Verdict: Keep

Martha My Dear

The second of 'the Three.'  It's more noticeable on CDs, where this immediately follows Happiness.  On the albums, this is the first song of side two.  As a result, it misses some of the punch of being a perfect Paul insert between two Lennon contributions that demonstrates yet again their stark contrast in writing styles.  Inspired by his beloved sheepdog Martha, it's a toe tapper to be sure.  But on its own, it isn't particularly memorable otherwise, except as part of the three song set.  

Verdict: Scrap 

I'm So Tired

Supposedly a Lennon lament over being tired, having insomnia, and yearning for Yoko, you can't help but wonder if it inspired Madeline Kahn's Dietrichesque performance in Blazing Saddles. Apart from the dig at Sir Walter Raleigh, however, it's more just listening to John fume.  As part of that three piece set, it works perfectly after Paul's Martha. But on its own in attempting to condense the song list, it could be removed without much loss. 

Verdict: Scrap 

Blackbird

The first of the "Zoo Section" (each having animals in their titles), Blackbird was Paul's subtle shoutout to the Civil Rights movement.  It's a pretty and somewhat moving song, especially if you don't know the context and think of it more in terms of general human experience.  Nonetheless, with Paul alone on acoustic and some bird sound effects, it's not his greatest by far.  Not bad at all, and quite a lovely listen worth being on the two album set, but just not necessary.  In a pinch, it can go. 

Verdict: Scrap

Piggies

The song that shows George had all the subtlety of a communal bedpan when it comes to social commentary.  We get the point.  It's a fun song to be sure.  And its blues riff on a harpsichord is classic 'do anything musical that you want' Beatles style.  Nonetheless, its own lack of anything but bludgeoning the message makes it easy to dismiss if pressed to eliminate songs. 

Verdict: Scrap

Rocky Racoon

OK, Paul.  A narrative song in which everything seems to hinge on a Gideon's Bible in a hotel room that ultimately has nothing to do with the song.  The whole song is like that.  A Paul attempt to tap into some faux Country Western musical theater, it can easily be dropped.  A common theme with the Zoo Collection. 

Verdict: Scrap

Don't Pass Me Buy

Ringo's first solo song writing credit (under Richard Starkey).  It's also a nod to the Country-Western genre since, by all accounts, Ringo was quite the fan of that form of music.  A bizarre lyric at times gets drowned out by recording styles and heavy arrangements. Still, it's his first composition, and only one of two songs with him on vocals on the album, so I'd be reluctant to get rid of it unless hard pressed. 

Verdict: Keep

Why Don't We Do It in the Road

Verdict: Scrap

I Will

This works only as a follow up to Why Don't We Do It in the Road. Both are essentially Paul solo performances with a couple exceptions, demonstrating his talent for extreme shifts in musical styles if not musical genres, as well as his command of various instruments.  I would either want to keep both or jettison both. Since I don't have a third option, however, I'll let this one stay. 

Verdict: Keep

Julia

John's tribute to his mom.  Both John and Paul lost their mothers at a young age, and that was the glue that cemented their 'soulmate' relationship in the early days. Despite this, the song somewhat meanders and isn't the best output from John.  It isn't bad, and is touching given the context.  But if we have to cut songs, this one can be cut.

Verdict: Scrap 

ALBUM 2

Birthday

The hook song for the second album, Birthday has drawn its share of critics over the years. It does sound like an amateur jam session in someone's garage to be sure.  But it's also high energy and a reminder that despite all their world and music changing influence, the Beatles were, in the end, merely a rock band wanting to rock.  

Verdict: Keep 

Yer Blues

A John number in pure John fashion.  A straight blues performance with a variety of influences, it's just too John not to include.  The ending drags a big, but overall a strong addition and one that segues, once again, so wonderfully into Paul's follow-up. 

Verdict: Keep 

Mother Nature's Son

One of Paul's home runs.  It sits perfectly after Yer Blues as yet another 'compare and contrast' between his output and Lennon's.  It's a wonderful, peaceful, evocative song from start to finish and there is no way it could be taken off an album. You can almost hear the sound of the music as the waters of that mountain stream rise.  

Verdict: Keep

Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey

Another of Lennon's goofy for goofy's sake songs.  The final riff at the end, with the band doing a strange sort of 'sound like a monkey?' chant, has a certain flare, but not enough to warrant keeping the rest of the song.  So much of Lennon's output this time lacks the usual edge or intent.  It's as if he's wanting to be weird for weird's sake, and if we have to cut songs, this one goes.

Verdict: Scrap 

Sexy Sadie

On the other hand, here is Lennon at his sharpest.  It's a well known dig at the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi (get it? Maharishi - Sexy Sadie) because of rumors that the guru's intentions were not altogether spiritual where the women on the trip to India were concerned.  The lyrics make it clear how imbittered Lennon was from the experience.  But it's a strong song even without the backstory.  One of his best on the album, and a keeper.

Verdict: Keep 

Helter Skelter

Forever linked to the Manson murders, it's the song that made spinning records in reverse to hear hidden messages all the rage.  It is also considered by not a few music historians to be the first proper 'proto-heavy metal' song based on its instrumentation and style.  Paul is showing he can be nitty gritty bombast with the best of them.  And when you hear this next to his loves ballads like Yesterday, or Michelle, or Here, There, and Everywhere, you can't help but appreciate his ability to tap into almost any musical genre, if not lay the groundwork for new ones, and make it work.

Verdict: Keep

Long, Long, Long

Of two minds on this one.  It's a pretty song of George's.  But the way the sound was mixed (and my son has explained it to me more than once), it's almost purposefully muted to contrast it to the ear splitting volume of Skelter.  Therefore, you either turn up the volume or spend most of the song struggling to hear. Nonetheless, the effect works, and if you make it through the first part of the song, you see it's a pretty good offering from George.

Verdict: Keep

Revolution 1

The beginning of side 2 of the second album, this is John's wading into politics.  Contrary to what an activist recently wrote online, modern day justice warriors don't want this blazing out of the speakers. It's a warning as he watched protesters, and in many cases those who shared his views, begin to spiral into violence, or embrace alternate forms of hateful or other dangerous views.  Just because you see a problem doesn't mean you will always approach it correctly. This is also an iconic song for being a Beatles song that the Beatles themselves covered.  It would take the Beatles to cover their own song, and in a completely different style.  While the single release is a hard rock anthem, this is a slow, understated, tripped out mumble.  One of Lennon's most famous and iconic compositions, and an easy keep.

Verdict: Keep

Honey Pie

No wild honey pie here, this is McCartney invoking an old, vintage 1920's era jazz scene and pop culture motif.  It sounds it.  You could believe it was written ages ago as a backdrop for a Fitzgerald biopic.  The transition phrase that uses a worn, scratchy phonograph sound to suggest an old recording is typical Beatles cleverness. It works as an homage, and as a standalone, and deserves to stay on the album.

Verdict: Keep

Savoy Truffle

Sorry George.  A playful dig at his friend Eric Clapton's insufferable sweet tooth, it's a rousing, fun, and upbeat song.  But not terribly unique or special.  Fun to listen to, but if something has to go, let it be this, and we'll keep While My Guitar Gently Weeps with no complaints.

Verdict: Scrap

Cry Baby Cry (Can you take me back)

No clue about this one.  At one point, in today's sensitivities, I could almost see it banned.  The refrain 'you're old enough to know better' just doesn't sit well for many modern listeners.  Though we don't have to assume the worse behind its meaning.  Even so, the song itself is a strange concoction with dreamy lyrics that bring to mind strange settings in a pseudo-Mother Goose sort of way.  It's an interesting tune, and if there was space, I'd want to keep it.  Plus you have the attached 'Can you take me back'; the part of a song McCartney was working on but never finished.  So what do you do?  If you're the Beatles you just paste it onto another song. Too much to lose, so unless there is no choice, it stays.

Verdict: Keep

Revolution 9

The greatest and most famous argument at Abbey Road studios in Beatles history. Everyone, and I mean everyone, wanted this off the record.  But it was a John and Yoko avant-garde sound experiment, and it stayed.  Coming to this "song" while listening to the album is like driving 70 mph down a highway and suddenly hitting two hours of traffic stuck in construction.  In reality, if the album is cut for any reason, this is the first to go.  As the double album, it stays due to its historical place in the canon.  And as a testimony to the  Beatles' vast influence over the evolving technology and development of the recording industry.  But if we must cut, there is no way this nine minute fever dream on tape remains.

Verdict: Scrap 

Good Night 

Not written by Ringo, but sung by him.  An almost lullaby.  The orchestrations are straight out of Percy Faith, and the lyrics seem as if Ringo is putting his children to sleep with a gentle verse for pleasant dreams.  It's almost parody, and yet it isn't.  Like most Beatles output, it manages to be many things and few at the same time.  It works as the finale for the album, and whether two albums or one, I think it stays and is a fine closing out of the whole work.

Verdict: Keep 

My political upbringing

Mom and Dad as I like to remember them

Despite being almost nine years younger than anyone else in my extended family, I did pay attention to the discussions.  The first news story I remember, in the sense that I was aware of it and understood that it was important, was Watergate.  Naturally I didn't fully comprehend it.  After all, I was only about seven.  But I knew it was important because my parents acted like it was important. They also didn't allow kids making light of it either.  I know that for a fact.

But the part that got me was listening to them in that old kitchen we had at the time.  While the story gained steam, I recall them both saying they hoped and prayed it was all hot air.  They hoped Nixon was not connected to anything and nothing would result in him getting in trouble.  Because, as they said, they feared it would be bad for the country.  But here's the punchline - they were both Democrats.  

I don't know if my dad's family voted Democrat or not, since the brothers went their own ways all over the country.  But my mom's family, who largely stayed around Akron, was deep into the Democratic Party.  That's why later my parents both voted for Jimmy Carter in 1976 - the year of our country's big Bicentennial.  By then I was going on ten, and a little more aware of things.  One reason they chose Carter was the hope that it would stem the party's push toward extremism and what they saw as dangerous developments to the left of center.  

Both my mom and my dad had stood for things we would associate with 'liberal' in the pop culture sense.  For example, while serving in the army at Fort Knox and later Fort Hood, my parents had their eyes opened where racial segregation was concerned.  Especially Mom, who was sort the 'naive and sheltered' young girl of the day.  My dad, who knew his way around town and then some, was nonetheless also taken by the clear and naked legal discrimination he saw.  Now my mom might have been naïve, but she also inherited her dad's mouth, and was not afraid to let her opinions  be known.  At one point while in Texas, my dad stepped in and asked her to stop railing against what she saw, because many of the women she was confronting were the wives of his company's officers. Still, she got so upset about what she saw that on one Christmas, her family drafted up a fake application for the NAACP and gave it to her.

Nonetheless, in 1976 they saw many movements they had supported going in the wrong direction.  Directions they believed would be  harmful to the country they were raising their kids in. So they voted for Carter, hoping that the Evangelical would reign things in.  By the end, however, they were anything but fans of Carter.  Even though dad had seniority on the railroad by then (back when seniority in a job meant something), and the economic hits weren't impacting us, they were upset because they were hurting the country as a whole.  They were still weaned on the idea that we care about our fellow Americans.  And they concluded Carter wasn't the one to fix the problems that were impacting them.

So in 1980, both my mom and my dad became part of the legendary Reagan Democrats.  Jumping ship, they voted for Reagan, much to the chagrin of my mom's sisters and brother (her second brother had passed by then).  That led to some pretty intense discussions let me tell you. But here is the funny thing. It wasn't as partisan as you'd think.

The fact is, they all seemed to like Reagan.  Apparently he had visited the area once many years earlier, when they were all younger.  It was to visit the Akron Soap Box Derby, which used to be a big thing in its day.  I guess a couple of my aunts met him, and talked about how nice and down to earth he seemed.  They also went on about him being handsome. They just wouldn't vote for him because he was a Republican.  As they said, they didn't want their dad turning over in his grave. 

But even funnier was my mom and dad. Especially my dad.  A union man all the way, for the next eight years he frequently jumped up and down and yelled at the TV because of what Reagan had done.  Not all things.  There were things he openly supported, especially taking a hard line against the Soviets and other countries he felt had been pushing us around.  He also appreciated Reagan making patriotism cool again and pushing back at the 'Patriotism is for losers' movement pop culture had been peddling for years by that point.  But in other cases, he would become very upset at things Reagan did (we won't even mention his feelings about Elizabeth Dole).  Even though, unlike my mom's family, he voted for Reagan - twice!

So that was my experience with politics.  Democrat parents hoping the Republican president they voted against wasn't guilty because it might hurt the country.  Democrat parents actively supporting social causes but realizing such causes can turn down dangerous paths.  Democrat parents who weren't personally harmed by a floundering economy under a Democrat administration, but were concerned that it was hurting Americans as a whole.  So much so that those Democrats voted for a Republican in the 1980s.  And though my mom's family would never vote for Reagan, they generally liked him personally.  While my parents, especially my dad, who did vote for him twice, frequently became upset when he felt Reagan was in the wrong.  

If nothing else, you can see why I have little use for naked partisanship, or slavish devotion to this or that social movement, or defending one side to the exclusion of any other sanity.  I try my best to step back and see what is going on for what it is. Like Trump. I never had had much use for him, and there are things, especially this second term, which are worthy of criticism to be sure.  But neither will I go Never-Trumper derangement and wish for my plane to crash just because he's the pilot. Or fool myself into forgetting that many on the Left who call Trump Hitler had no problem partying with him, golfing with him, hanging out with him, and of course asking for money - at least before he put an "R" in front of his name. 

Observations

As I had said, I ditched most "social media" during Lent.  By that, I meant things like Facebook (which I do have an account for), as well as others like Twitter or Tik Tok or what have you.  And then, primarily the 'debate' sites. I reserved the right to access Facebook if a picture of the grandkids was posted, or our city government, which only posts updates on Facebook, mentioned some news I needed to check out.  Otherwise, I steered clear. 

When Lent was over, I decided to go back and see what I'd been missing. I'm sorry I did.  I even went back to sites I had stopped going to long before Lent.  Simply because of their toxic nature.  It was like being on a month long Mediterranean Diet with daily kale salad chasers and then suddenly going to the state fair and eating fair food all day. Enough to make you sick.

I said it's no wonder mental health problems, drug addiction and suicide are rampant across the board when it comes to our youth and children today.  Look how the adults are behaving.  We like to tell ourselves that everyone in the past was as bad as our various problems and failings today.  Which I've often thought has to be the worst defense ever.  I mean, how bad to you have to reek when your go to excuse about different failings, or evils, or problems is that they were always as bad as we are today. Think on that. 

I'm sure several folks out there watched the 60 Minutes interview with Senator Ben Sasse.  That was an eye opener.  Talk about facing the inevitable with grace and strength.  And, as so often happens in the face of the tragic, a deal of wisdom.  Yet it's amazing how many people heard what he said and reverted to 'But his politics!'.  

Does this mean this sort of thing only happens because of social media?  That's what Senator Sasse meant when he speaks of social media being a major problem?  No.  I think we're at that stage where we're realizing no matter what we come up with or how clean and sterile we can make things, we're just people.  People who will never learn. Mark Shea once said people are part angel, part alley cat.  I like that.  Whether it's in caves, castles, or on computers, we don't really change, do we?  And nothing we come up with can avoid the taint of a fallen world.  Be it democracy, equality, capitalism, you name it.  Pick the best thing in the world humanity has produced and stand back and wait. 

I think that hit me when I returned back to those social media sites.  But it wasn't just those pesky Twitter snipits.  Perhaps it's my old timer ways, but I allowed myself to visit blogs during Lent because, quite frankly, they still seem to be less toxic. Perhaps because the toxic people have moved on to other forums.  Or maybe they don't lend themselves to quick, pithy digs and zingers followed by more of the same.  I don't know.  I do know I'm almost done with the others.  Even after Lent, I see no Easter reprieve.  Quite the opposite.  Because of Easter, I think there are better ways to go about living and communicating. 

Just like the thing we used to call the news media.  I often think at this stage in the game the world would be a happier and more informed place if we didn't have the media.  Likewise, I can't help but see a net positive for moving on, at least from these late generation social media platforms that seem to draw out the worst in people like extracting puss from a wound. 

But it's not just the format or the outlet of course.  It's why and how we approach it.  Because I confined myself to blogs, I found myself looking about for different blogs to read.  Believe it or not, whether Catholic or topical or hobby, many blogs have sort of gone the way of the butter churn over the years.  I even decided to go back to Mark Shea's blog, which I haven't graced on my own in many a moon.  And I saw something that was telling, and a bit sad.

I know from years gone by, sometimes around the big holidays like Easter or Christmas, Mark would back off a bit.  He would dig into his archives and bring back older articles or sections of books he wrote when he was less political partisan.  He appears to have done it this year.  And from what I can tell, he's still doing it.  No MAGA Nazis!  No Trump Hitler! No lying death cult gun murder blah, blah blah.  It looks to be something from one of his books back in the day, basically his take on Catholic social teaching.  Not his later one, but from years ago.  Like most of what he wrote back in the day, it wasn't bad.  Not the highest level of scholarly insights, but nowadays that's not altogether a bad thing.

Yet do you know what I noticed?  There were no comments.  Now blogging itself has declined to be sure. Was a time that if a post about Harry Potter or the A-Bombs on Mark's old page that garnered only a hundred comments it was a slow day.  And his wasn't alone.  Blogs with comments in the dozens for even a trivial topic weren't uncommon.   That has obviously changed as other outlets and platforms have taken over.  Today even some of the more traveled blogs might only see a few dozen comments addressing the hottest button issues of the moment. 

But I noticed his had - none.  At all.  Day after day of scrolling back I couldn't find any comments.  I mean, I know his readership has dropped, but nothing for days on end?  I had read some links to his blogs in recent years when they were emailed to me, and I definitely recall seeing comments.  Maybe not many, but at least something.  After scrolling back several weeks I only saw an occasional comment here, or a few days earlier there, and that was all.

It wasn't until I got back to his pre-Lenten leftwing rage machine that guess what?  In came the comments. Not tons, and largely the same individuals.  But those same individuals, who commented almost daily whenever the post was a variation on Satan Hitler Trump and the MAGA Nazis, suddenly vanished throughout Lent and through Easter thus far.  And that was a sad, and disturbing thing.

After all, it doesn't take a game show host to figure out why.  Given the comments I did see, what they said, and what type of post they were responding to, it's pretty obvious that Mark, to many of them, is merely a tool.  He trashes what and who they hate, and they appreciate it.  But when he gets back to that Catholic and Christian teaching rubbish, not the kind that attacks conservatives, but actual Catholic teaching?  Eh.  Obviously no big deal.  That's not why they show up each day. They show up to have their partisanship, their hatred of anything right of center, of America, even of Christianity, affirmed.  Or at least affirmed in such a way that whatever they do or think, they are free to do so without concern for any forthcoming consequences.

I've thought about that a lot. Right now we're in some pretty big life changes, and that has sapped much of my time and energies.  Nonetheless, on coming back I think I'll start reframing how I approach things.  I'm thankful that I can post pretty much anything under the sun and various folks will still comment. Maybe not as much as some hot button topic, but again, that's nothing new, and not automatically bad.  

Nonetheless, I think I want to stray from harping on the same things that others are day after day. In the past, I announced I would either step away from, or at least alter, the blog and how I approach it.  The most noteworthy case being on the eve of the Kavanaugh hearings, which were quite the eye opener to say the least.  Prompting me to rush back in with observations about the obvious. 

But now, I'm wondering.  Not sure how I will approach things.  I think on those Catholic convert celebrities I've mentioned and always imagine there but by the grace and all.  Yes, I enjoy the blog, and I always enjoy the comments, even when they say I'm wrong.  Sometimes especially, because that can give me things to think about. 

Still, I realized with looking at Mark's blog and what it's been reduced to, that I don't want it to merely be 'look at those sinners over there!'.  I mean, it is what it is.  Most can see the problems today, and sometimes I think they need to be mentioned or called out.  But I do miss the older blogs that were certainly geared toward the issues du jour, but also dwelt on other topics as well.  Sometimes fun, sometimes trivial, sometimes personal interests.  I think there's a healthy mixture there that's too easy to forget as we rush in each day to say 'Oh no, did you see that!'.  That's why I still visit blogs, like The American Catholic, that do a good job mixing the headline take downs with various other topics, Catholic reflections, personal interests, or just plain fun. 

With all that said, not sure what things will be, and I don't want to make any predictions.  After all, there could be another Kavanaugh moment coming around the corner.  Nonetheless, as times and life changes make the daily post a thing of the past, I'll likely pull back and try to put more punch into fewer posts themselves, or at least topical ones.  Heck, I might even proof read something beyond hitting spellcheck!  Reserving the right, perhaps this time finally, of expending more energies on personal interests and frivolous matters that are easier to toss out, like the family or whatever tickles my fancy, yet are no less important when you think on it.  Especially if those interests coincide with family times and memories.  As Mr. Sosse articulates so well. 

Tis Lent

It's that time of year again. Growing up, my favorite time of the year was Christmas, bar none.  There were other special happenings for us, even if we weren't a family awash in endless traditions.  We had them, but my dad's chaotic work schedule on the railroad made it tough to have regular annual traditions.  Still, they were there.  Christmas, and Thanksgiving whenever we could get it.  Usually something around July 4th, but not always.  We didn't cook out much.  There was our annual trip to Cedar Point amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio.  And oddly, the annual viewing of The Wizard of Oz was almost on that level.  Dad would make chocolate and peanut butter fudge, and one year he bought a candy kit.  Go figure.  But above them all was Christmas. Though over the years, I began to fancy fall more than any season. 

Nevertheless, as a new Christian, I must admit Easter began to grow on me.  That really took off when I started attending the Florida church where I met my wife.  Not just because of her, but because they had their annual Sunrise Service (a popular tradition in Protestant churches). And it happened that their church and parsonage was on property that bordered a lake. The chairs were out, the cross was on the shore, and I can still remember seeing the sun come up over the palm trees.  Catholic though you might be, you have to admit just the sound of it seems pretty darn awesome.  And it was.  And it made Easter seem all the bigger deal than it ever had been.

Of course coming into the Catholic Church brought it all to a new level.  Sadly, I was taken by how many old world Catholic traditions weren't maintained, at least in our neck of the woods.  Yet the basics are there. And in Catholicism, the basics are still leaps and bounds beyond what most Protestant, and especially Evangelical, churches will ever experience. 

One of the strangest developments has been my appreciation of Lent. I'll admit not all Catholic practices have made a big impact on me.  But this has.  Something about it seems rooted; grounded if you will.  A reminder that be it living in a cave, a stone cottage, a third world shack, or a Manhattan skyscraper, or whatever fantasies the future does or doesn't hold, it all comes back down to the same reality - we're dust.  At this stage in my life, watching more and more I know pass, and seeing very few of my family left, that isn't just a quaint mantra.  It's to remind us what is and isn't important and real.

So to that end, I try very hard to follow Lent to the best of my abilities. Which are usually pretty lousy I must admit.  Truth be told, the hardest thing is what to give up.  At the end of the day, owing to my personality and just where our life has been over the years, there aren't many things I do on a regular basis.  Perhaps it's bad of me, but I've always jealously guarded my time with my family and my boys and would never do or not do something to compromise that.  But outside of that?  As I've said before, I have no hobbies, no ongoing regular interests, nothing I'm terribly invested in that doesn't include necessary things, nor any food or snack or indulgence I must regularly have.  That includes things I do, but on such an irregular basis that giving them up would seem like a typical month long hiatus. Most things I give up are things I'd almost have to start doing just to have them to give up. 

And no, the old 'replace it with something to do' doesn't cut it.  I get the whole 'giving up' part, and think it's valuable.  So each year finds me hitting my head against the wall trying to figure out just what thing I don't always to seldom ever do that I do enough for it to warrant being given up for the season.  Without, again, hamstringing some crucial aspect of life, especially time with the kids and family I have left. 

Well, this year I had a eureka moment.  I would give up Facebook and similar social media outlets.  I don't live on them, but I use them for material for the old blog, plus there are several pages that are interest based.  It is a bit of a cheat, since Facebook is the only one I belong to.  Others, like TikTok or Twitter have never interested me.  Though I will got to them if someone sends a link or reference or such.  But I do enough on Facebook - much of it being interest pages like history or movies or Beatles and the like - that I can give it up and feel like I'm not really cheating.  

It does come with a caveat: that there area a few things - like our own city government - that only operate through Facebook.  And sometimes, such as changes in services such as trash collection or weather alerts, only come through that.  So in those cases, where certain companies or institutions I interact with only go through Facebook, I reserve the right to go there and respond accordingly.  But nothing else.  Unless I'm informed they uploaded a photo of the grandkiddos. That will ever be a dispensation. Thus: 

But I will avoid all other pages, and that includes the few Catholic pages I still follow.  Which, with a couple exceptions, will be its own blessing.  There is one point to consider.  I seldom follow the MSM anymore.  Local channels in the morning, mostly to see weather and traffic, and through the week we'll catch the first half hour of the national morning news shows before getting on with the day.  But that's it. I get most of my news now from the Internet.  Not Internet pages, but people on social media who link to or reference various news stories.  When they do, then I'll look up the story and see what is going on.  But the MSM is so post-truth/post-journalism, I no longer waste much time with it.

So with that said, the number of stories I'll be exposed to will likely drop through the floor in the next weeks.  I'll still see them, since there are still blogs I visit that I don't count as part of the FB style social media.  But I'm sure there will be a drop.  There already has been on the blog in general, owing to life changes and new adventures and new chapters and all.  But this should see things really slow down.

There are a couple posts I've been kicking around for some time, and a couple follow ups I'll try to get out.  I might try to blog on frivolous things just to keep the habit going.  I'm sure there will be the odd story that doesn't require those social media sites to hear about (I recall the eye opening Kavanaugh reveal).  But on the whole, expect things to slow down from where they've already slowed down to.  In the meantime happy and blessed Lent to all.  I'll be around, if not as often. Just remember, Easter is not too far.  

Hard to believe

 It was 30 years ago this last New Years Eve that this wonderful strip came to an end:

As they say, time does fly.  True to form, Watterson has never attempted any big comeback.  By all accounts, he took the tremendous fortune he received from the strip and retired into a quiet life and pursing what projects interest him. 

In its day, Calvin and Hobbes emerged as the comic strip that everyone was reading.  From the blue collar to the Ivy League. It had come about in that golden age of comics in the 1980s.  You still had the politically charged Doonesbury.  And the grand dame of all comic strips, Peanuts, still dominated the top front page of the comics section.   Also came Bloom County, an edgy and surreal comic strip that wasn't afraid to offend everyone.  At the same time, you saw debut that strange unreal world of the Far Side.  But among them all C&H skyrocketed to the top of the class. 

The good news is that Watterson did what so few ever seem to know to do - he got out while on top.  Oh, looking back you could see the cracks.  You could tell he was losing his edge, becoming more preachy, and beginning to betray some of the rules he had laid out for the strip early on.  But that was only toward the end.  There was still enough good that when he finally closed up shop, he was still near the top of his game.  And that's never bad. 

A quick primer

 Commercialism:

Consumerism:

Corporatism: 

I'll explain later. 

Just because

A little dose of laughter courtesy of Steve Martin and his many talents on the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour: 

And yes, a reminder that he didn't always have that plume of white hair.  Martin is one of those cases of how, when you're young, time seems to be somewhat telescoped.  His mega hit album A Wild and Crazy Guy came out in 1978 when I was in elementary school.  A year after Star Wars, and the height of Star Wars Mania (yes, that came a full year after its release), Martin seemed to be everywhere.  His novelty song King Tut caught the King Tut wave that was all the rage back then, with the Treasures of Tutankhamun  museum exhibit tour in the late 70s. A year later he would star in his own vehicle movie The Jerk, and only solidify that feeling for me and my peers that he had been everywhere forever.   

Looking back, I realize how brief his time in the national spotlight was.  Oh, he would go on and make a zillion movies of varying quality and redefine himself and become, nowadays, that elderly gentlemen of entertainment. But Martin as center of attention in the world of pop culture was only a couple years. But to youngsters at the time like me, where time seems to go at a different pace, it felt in the late 70s as though he had always been the biggest thing since the dawn of time. 

Veterans Day

The reading of this in the film My Boy Jack always brings home Veterans Day and the risks and costs behind it: 

It's been said that the problem with 'Nothing to kill for' is that it is inevitably followed by 'Nothing to die for', which is a backhanded way of saying 'Nothing in this universe more important than me'.  As foundational as this is for our post-war secularized liberal society, it's antithetical to not just core Christian values, but the values shared by most of humanity throughout most of time.  

Yet when we see things like Veterans Day or Memorial Day or even the daily sacrifice or risk people take to help or save others, I notice that our kneejerk reaction is seldom 'what an idiot.'  No, we usually, almost instinctively, cheer them on or remember those who have served or sacrificed with reverence.  From the top of our pop culture down.

So it's almost as if, despite the uber-narrative that I must love me first, think of me first, prioritize me first, and heaven forbid think there is anything out there worth dying for - we really don't believe it.  Just what it says about a society whose formal instructions aren't even believed by those instructing us, I don't know.  I just know when days like this come along, it never seems to mesh with the usual tripe we hear from our best and brightest about how the greatest love of all is the love I should have for myself, everything else being a distant second. 

Movies to scare kids by - the long awaited sequel!

Just in time for a nice Halloween rambling!

Back in the earliest days of my blog, Simcha Fischer posted a list of scary movies she watched with her family around spook season when she was at National Catholic Register.  Deciding to shamelessly steal the idea, I posted the same thing, and it led to an early boost in my visits. No doubt in part because of the images I used being ones people at the time were likely searching for.  Eh.  It still worked, and the old blog got quite a lift in page views. 

Since then, we've watched many more movies that weren't on the list. Some on the list aren't watched as much anymore.   Of course most aren't watched with everyone because of obvious life changes.  And there are those not listed here because, while we have watched them many times over the years, they aren't even a once every three Halloween watch.  So here is the much awaited update - Movies to Scare Kids By, Part II:

Night of the Demon, 1957

MacGinnis (L) and Andrews selling the story

They say this was the first movie in the modern era, post-war at least, to handle the topic of demonology, the occult and Satanism.  Subjects that would dominate the film world during the 1970's 'decade of realism', culminating in the early 1980's infamous 'Satanic Panic.'  In the 1950s, the old monsters of folklore and myth were passe, giving way to radioactive giant reptiles, insects, and people, all mixed with endless aliens from everywhere in the universe.  At the high noon of such nuclear age focus came this British movie.  The story deals with the 'Great Karswell' and his cult of devil worshippers.  It shows you up front what is happening, so the audience doesn't ponder if it is real (something the film makers didn't want but were forced to show by the studio).  Nonetheless, Dana Andrews is the usual skeptical scientist who needs bludgeoned over the head by a hundred foot tall demon before he'll believe - and even then he seems to drag his feet.  Beyond the subject matter, the movie is carried by Irish actor (and physician) Niall MacGinnis as Karswell, whose unique "poetic timbre" gives an offsetting, odd and not quite right feel to what could have been a cardboard caricature.  

The City of the Dead, 1960 (US: 1961)

The shadow of the cross will protect them...

Released in the United States with the unfortunate title Horror Hotel, The City of the Dead is a movie also seeking to discard the post-Nuclear monster insect fad that dominated the late 50s and 60s. No mad scientists here.  In fact, the only scientist is the obligatory sceptic, having nothing to do with their obsession with witches and witchcraft.  Christopher Lee stars as Alan Driscoll, a professor of history and expert in the topic of New England witchcraft. A prize student of his, Nan Barlow, played by model and actress Venetia Stevenson, is directed to Professor Driscoll's childhood home, which happens to be the the sight of a famous witch burning that is shown in the movie's opening.  Once there, the fog never lets up.  Really. It is never daytime, and not foggy in the village of Whitewood.  It is a ramshackle, run down community where nobody speaks and everyone looks, well, off kilter.  Soon things begin to happen, young Miss Barlow vanishes, and her brother (a professor of science) and boyfriend must find out what happened.  The whole drama culminates in a final scene I saw on TV as a child and never forgot.  It has much atmosphere, and continues with the themes of the occult and supernatural that we saw with The Night of the Demon.  Also it's fun to watch and see the obvious influences on some of Stephen King's works, as well as the age old question - given the basic framework of the movie and its year of release, did it come first or did Psycho?  

Psycho, 1960

No caption needed

Speaking of which, somehow this began to be included in the annual cycle of spooky viewing.  I needn't dwell on the specifics.  I mean, is there a more iconic suspense thriller than this?  I knew about the shower scene before I knew what showers were.  And that was back then.  Though I will say this. I have forever envied those moviegoers who saw the film upon its initial release. Only they could have appreciated Hitchcock's sleight of hand, as it's clear the early movie sets up Janet Leigh as the actual psycho. Embezzling money from her boss to force the hand of her lover Sam Loomis into marrying her, she then drives across country,  becoming more neurotic and paranoid with each mile.  Each person she runs into -seeing her boss cross the street, a police officer, California Charlie the used car salesman - becomes more and more of a threat as her mind runs wild.  Then as the weather turns sour, she pulls into the isolated Bates Motel.  Upon meeting a young Norman Bates, the audience thinks here's another person she's going to go crazy worrying about.  And yet, as they converse over an impromptu snack, something is different this time.  From the moment you see him change from picking keys to Room 3 to Room 1, you begin to get the impression that somehow, in some way, perhaps she wasn't the psycho after all.  To be able to watch it like that is something I do envy.   

The Wicker Man, 1973

Christopher Lee gives another understated performance

A disturbing movie on many levels, brilliantly executed, and a reminder for all of those who pine for the peace loving hippy days of love fest paganism.  On the surface, it does look like a celebration of good old pagan free sex versus that tired old religious puritanism of Christianity.  Edward Woodward plays a devout Christian policeman investigating the disappearance of a young girl from a nearby island off the English coast.  As he makes his rounds, he is stunned at what he sees - like a Woodstock orgy on acid.  This is only made worse when he meets the island's unapologetic lord, played by Christopher Lee in what he called one of his favorite roles.  Things begin to go from crazy to nightmarish for Woodward until, only when it is too late, he realizes just what he has uncovered.  It is an ending that will stay with you a long time after the movie is over. 

Steven King's Silver Bullet, 1985 

Made in the wake of The Howling and Rick Baker's groundbreaking effects for An American Werewolf in  London, it is inferior to those two movies in most ways.  The design for the monster in question always looked like a teddy bear with a mean streak and not much more.  With most of King's movies, either they deviate enough to improve the material, or try to stretch the material out to a two hour version of not much.  Somehow, this movie manages to do a little of neither.  Still, there are some things to like.  It wisely adds a seasonal feel by having the final confrontation take place on Halloween night (while picky observers note that in the actual year it is supposed to happen, the moon was not full on Halloween).  The principal actors are good enough, and do their jobs well enough to carry the story.  Many in the support cast actually shine brighter than the leads.  There are some heartfelt moments, and some good scenes that suggest a better movie in the making.  Plus it does contain one of the most purely gothic scenes ever put to celluloid.  Then of course there is Gary Busey.  Never has Gary Busey more Gary Bussied than here.  If you like your Gary Busey acting three sheets to the wind even when he's not drunk, this is the movie for you.

L to R: Angry teddy bear; Werewolf to scare the bloody pants off of you (courtesy of The Howling)

The Fall of the House of Usher 

One of the catalogue of Roger Corman's 'how to mutilate Poe' films.  Of all of them, this is the one trying at least somewhat to cleave unto the original source material.  Vincent Price, Mr. Horror of Poe himself, does a good job of making the ailing Roderick Usher come off as unsettling at best.  The settings are typical Corman, lots of fog, everything looks dead (as well it should), the interior shots are properly gothic, and the costumes are straight out of a Broadway costume drama.  At only 79 minutes, it still feels like the main goal is to stretch and stretch again the story into a full length theatrical release.  Nonetheless, when it does get going, and the set of the crypts is revealed, the whole begins to come together and makes for viewing that fits well into the Halloween seasonal feel.  

Dracula, Prince of Darkness (1966)

The sequel to Hammer's The Horror of Dracula, its first instalment of an eternally long string of Dracula movies.  Featuring one of the best showdowns between Dracula and his arch-nemesis Van Helsing, Hammer reminds us that when it comes to adapting books into movies, don't worry about the books.  The names are the same, but don't apply to the same people.  We still have no clue where it is supposed to take place.  The story begins in the first minute by quoting Jonathan Harker's journal, and then promptly begins rewriting the journal itself, with the story to follow.  Nonetheless, so successful was its performances at the box office that a sequel from Hammer was inevitable.  Dracula, Prince of Darkness begins a decade or so after the events of the first movie.  Not able to get Peter Cushing back, they bring in four stalwart Brit performers as well as the always reliable Andrew Keir to weave together a new story centered around a speechless Dracula (the reasons for Lee having no dialogue being debated to this day).  Two brothers and their wives defy warnings from a rambunctious abbot and visit too close to the Castle Dracula.  As they say, when you're in horror movies, you make dumb decisions.  What follows is predictable, and the ending, while interesting in leaning on the tale that vampires can't cross running water, is nowhere close to the first movie's ending (see below).  Also, the 'vampire as bizarre mutant monster, not supernatural' gets kicked into high gear, and you're left pondering just what Keir's abbot actually believes about - anything.  I suppose it was the apex of accepting that everything spiritual must really be material.  It's worth noting, BTW, that the TV channels we had when I was growing up must have owned this movie outright, because more than almost any other horror movie, it seemed this was shown repeatedly.  Also, like The City of the Dead, one can see some clear influences on both Stephen King and, of all things, Dungeons and Dragons! 

Curse of the Werewolf (1961)    

Oliver Reed shines in this tortured tale.  While Hammer would raid old Universal story lines and adapt them liberally from the source material, they toss Curt Siodmak's concocted Wolf Man story out the window.  Instead, for this movie they lean on actual European folklore and superstitions about werewolves and their origins.  Reed's Leon is definitely a tragic character, almost as much as his adopted father, played brilliantly by Welsh actor Clifford Evans.  A viewer will almost be lost at first, as the initial scenes in the movie tap into historical beliefs about where werewolves originate.  Then we meet Leon as a young child with decidedly un-childlike tendencies: Like sleepwalking and returning with blood all over his torn up clothes.  Growing up doesn't help, and like any true Gothic tale, it oozes with tragedy, for that's typically what defines a Gothic tale.  True to form, Hammer Films, as it so often did, managed to punch well above its weight in terms of what it could do with very limited budgets and resources, and makes this one of the most rewatchable of its extensive catalogue. 

The Curse of Frankenstein (1957)

The Hammer film that put Hammer in the spotlight. Initially panned for its gore, its production and its gratuitous levels of - then - shocking visuals, the movie has since been seen as a milestone due to its role in bringing back the classic horror genre in the age of sci-fi and nuclear paranoia.  Like most Hammer films, the source material is out the window. It isn't even based on stage plays.  The film begins with Dr. Frankenstein awaiting his execution.  He tells his tale of what happened, a tale we should be at least vaguely familiar with.  If Frankenstein is sometimes less sympathetic than his creation in the original novel, here he's pure villain.  Willing to murder to maintain his project of life creation, Cushing's Frankenstein ranks as one of Hammer's most heartless monsters.  Even more than the grotesque creature itself, played again by a speechless Christopher Lee.  Scottish actor Robert Urquhart is wonderful as Frankenstein's mentor, turned adversary as he begins to recoil in horror at what his prized student is capable of doing.  Like most Hammer films, for its day it pulled no punches, and the ending shows that not all movies need to end happily. 

The House on Haunted Hill, 1959

The move makes as much sense as this photo

Pure schlock of the highest degree of schlock.  Vincent Price is at his hammy best here, playing the eccentric zillionaire Frederick Loren in what has to be one of the most hilariously convoluted storylines ever.  Released back when low budget movie gimmicks was a fad, the story, the logic, the consistency, the defiance of reality, the basic 'what the hell is going on here' problems with the plot, all take a back seat to a faddish technology long lost on modern audiences.  The basic idea is that Mr. Loren has put together a party at a notoriously haunted house - for reasons?  And then he and his wife pretty much hate each other, until it is revealed there is at least a five way double cross conspiracy orchestrated by - someone?  Elisha Cook is almost slappable with his annoying prattling, and most of the actors seem genuinely confused, because the audience certainly is.  Nonetheless, it sort of got added to the mix some years ago, and is a family favorite.  Especially since the boys like to do with it what they do with the old Frosty the Snowman Christmas special.  That is, eviscerate it down to its core with comedic jabs and digs at the obvious loopholes of logic and plotlines.  

The Haunting, 1963

In keeping with the emerging focus on the supernatural and away from space aliens and giant mutants, we're treated to this cinematic version of Shirley Jackson's novel The Haunting of Hill House. To be honest, this isn't really my cup of tea.  For some reason, the atmosphere and the portrayal of the haunting itself comes off as almost tinny, if that means anything.  There is a mechanical feel to it all that doesn't hit me as 'supernatural' or 'spiritual.'  More like sound machines and drum sets behind the stage than ethereal spirits.  Nonetheless, it is liked here on the home front, and I don't hate it.  There is some good there, especially the lore attached to the story.  The sets themselves are good, and the acting solid.  Yes, we all get the subtle inuendo behind the two female leads' relationship. But overall, each actor of the small cast does good enough.  Not to mention Julie Harris's Elinore Lance has a bullseye over her that even the least attentive viewer can't help but see.  So it's OK, but probably not a favorite, at least for me. 

Night of the Living Dead, 1968

And in color, too!

The low budget independent film against which all low budget independent films are measured.  Literally filming out of the trunk of his car, George Romero managed to redefine a mythical concept and invent a genre in almost one fell swoop.  Despite the heavy handed Civil Rights Era messaging, Romero has always insisted the story was already in place when Duane Jones was cast.  The ending just coincidently looked like it was pushing a message.  A spin on societal paranoia and survival against all odds that would make Rod Serling proud, it manages to start with a punch and never let up.   With a budget barely enough to buy a McDonald's happy meal in terms of movie financing, Romero managed to piece together an intense, suspenseful, and compelling labor of love that still holds up, and unsettles the viewer, even today. 

Ghost Story, 1981

Enough class to fill the screen

Based on Peter Straub's 1979 novel of the same name, the movie distills the book down to the classic 'old dark secret shared by friends' storyline. As they enter the twilight of their years, four life long friends become concerned when one suddenly dies, for no apparent reason.  Then goes another one.  Finally, the son of the first to die shows up and tells his tale.  A beautiful young woman came into his life who seemed, well, every guy's dream.  It being the sex saturated early 80s, this dream is played out on screen in very non-family friendly ways.  Yet something begins to look wrong.  He soon links her to his own brother who died mysteriously after meeting a young woman who sounded a lot like his current flame.  Stories are told, and the dark secret the four pledged to keep forever when they were young is revealed.  At that point, they conclude this might be a case of revenge from the netherworld.  The fact that they rounded up some phenomenal acting power - Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., Fred Astaire, John Houseman and Patricia Neal to name a few - lifts the movie by at least a letter grade.  Good atmosphere and creepy settings don't hurt. 

The Witch, 2015

It's a family in-joke

A movie that came out of nowhere and absolutely awed everyone who saw it. The story is of a Puritan family in 17th Century American concluding their community isn't up to their own high Christian standards.  Therefore, they strike out to make their own way in the American wilderness.  Things soon go from bad to catastrophic as the disappearance of their newborn is followed by a strange and disturbing series of events, both natural and unsettling.  Meanwhile, one by one the members of the family are either lost or turn on one another.  The movie itself deserves a full blog post, and much has been written about it.  The thing I like, beyond it leaving things open at the end, is that the movie respected the material.  It didn't hoist the Calvinist family up for ridicule or mockery or 'gee they were the pits' levels of derision.  It merely says 'these people did this, this is how they saw things, and this is what happened.'  Such a treatment of the past is almost rarer today than a valid witch sighting in these jaded times of ubiquitous presentism. And it helps make this some great, if not disturbing, viewing for a Halloween season lineup. 

CHEATS:

The next couple are movies we used to watch but my wife began to find a bit troubling.  I think it has to do with raising teenagers and college students.  

Halloween, 1978

It begins

It was like Romero's Night of the Living Dead, but taken to the next level.  The initial charge was for John Carpenter to make another garbage quality hack and slash movie for the post-adolescent palate.  But rather than just grab a camera and shoot, he decided to reach into that haversack of creativity, add a little golly-gee-whiz, along with some out of the box seasonal inspired thinking, and came up with a movie that blew the socks off of audiences when it was released, and showed just what independent filmmaking could accomplish at the box office. My cousin Joannie, the night they saw it in theaters, made her husband go in and turn on all the lights in their house and check all the closets before she got out of the car.  I heard that story repeated endlessly back then.  It's amazing what a bag of dead leaves, a William Shatner mask, a machete, a pumpkin special ordered from New England, Donald Pleasance, and the date October 31st gave to an otherwise forgettable low budget project.   Also, we should mention the movie's musical score, written by Carpenter, has become one of the most iconic scores ever.  A fitting bit of trivia for a movie that carved its own niche in movie history. 

The Blair Witch Project, 1999

You have to admit - it works

One of the first fruits of the Internet age, it played the new medium like a maestro and generated one of the biggest blockbusters, in terms of profit margins, in movie history.  Of course like anything, it quickly became just as fashionable to hate and despise the movie as initially praise it.  A film by actual students in the University of Central Florida film department, the story centers around students in a film department doing a documentary on the legend of the Blair Witch.  The basic premise is sort of like Dracula, but in the video age.  That is, their film cameras they used to track everything that happened were discovered, and what we are watching is what actually went down.  Ok.  If Dracula's whole 'quick, something isn't right, let's get to the diary' framework seemed to stretch things at times, this movie's 'oh no, we could die - quick, grab a camera', went over the edge. But putting aside the obvious need for suspending tremendous amounts of disbelief, the movie did a good job of reminding us that less can often be more.  The fall foliage, the wilderness isolation, the nod to a cemetery, the community with only hints of Halloween decorations never focused on, the abandoned house, the strange yet understated totems in the middle of the woods, did a far better job at helping the viewer paint a frightening mental picture than most movie special effects artists could ever do.  

SPECIAL MENTION

Ghost Story (2017)

Really, he's in a bed sheet

We still aren't sure what to make of this.  Starring Casey Affleck, it is the story of a young couple, madly in love, whose lives are shattered by the sudden and tragic death of the young man (Affleck).  After the shock of the accident, Affleck suddenly finds himself in, well, a bedsheet and confined to his home.  Without saying a word, he watches as the love of his life moves on, only to be replaced by others who come and go until suddenly it looks like the year 2929 with space skyscrapers and flying cars and then -  woosh!  There he is, in his sheet, looking upon a barren wilderness.  He sees 19th Century settlers, then the decaying body of a dead child with an arrow in her back (gutsy move that), and suddenly, things start coming full circle as around him emerges the neighborhood and house he knew.  Each scene contains characters and dialogue that muse on life, death, time, morality, the divine, and the eternal.  All while the ghost with two eye-holes silently observes.  My wife isn't keen on watching it again, but I admit I wouldn't mind giving it another whirl. 

So there you have it.  For the record, not all of them are watched every year, and some more often than others.  A few have only been watched a couple times, but almost always around October, owing to the seasonal vibes.  

On this October 7th

A comment I left on a post that was decrying Israel's Nazi style genocide against Gaza and the Palestinians.  Like this story here.  This is in no way a defense for anything and everything Israel is or might do.  It is to keep it real.  We live in an age of untruth, and there's nothing we like more than telling it like it ain't.  Why is Israel doing what it is doing and ignoring virtually the entire world's outcry?  My take: 

You call this being what happens when someone gets backed into a corner. As one military historian I follow pointed out, October 7th was a probing action. For years, terror groups in surrounding areas could attack Israel, kill a couple Israelis, and then as soon as Israel responded, the world condemned - Israel. October 7th was to see just how many Jews can be killed, tortured, and mutilated in a single day and still have the world condemn Israel. That number now being over a thousand. Because almost immediately, after a day or two of shock while protests erupted around the world celebrating Hamas and cheering what it did, the world once again condemned - Israel.  Initially the outrage was triggered by the hospital Hamas turned out to have attacked, but as soon as it could, the world dropped the hammer on Israel and hasn’t stopped since. Because a significant number in the surrounding nations and those in alliance with those nations have made it clear they want Israel wiped off the map and are willing to kill any number of Jews to do it, and the world has expressed solidarity with those saying so, there just isn't much motivation for Netanyahu to do anything else. Not everyone in the world today builds vast networks of ethics around the premise that as long as it's those other shmucks who get taken out and they leave me alone, I'm good.  Of course, none of this excuses what Israel is or might do no matter what.  But the problem is, we’ve learned from years of experience that nothing Israel does will be excused, while those wishing for a post-Israel world are the ones garnering the world’s support time and again.  

An October Friday Frivolity: A Ravenloft Retrospective

Bless that good, good woman who hung the crucifix round my neck! for it is a comfort and a strength to me whenever I touch it. It is odd that a thing which I have been taught to regard with disfavour and as idolatrous should in a time of loneliness and trouble be of help.  From Jonathan Harker's Journal, Chapter III, Dracula. 

Released in 1983, Ravenloft was an 'Adventure Module' for the Dungeons & Dragons brand roleplaying game. By 1983, the Fantasy Renaissance kicked off by Star Wars was beginning to fizzle.   It was still there.  Fantasy and Sci-Fi would still find plenty of interest for the next few years.  But it was slowing.  By then, the media's full blown assault on D&D and the collateral damage to the genre as a whole was starting to reveal growing cracks in its popularity.  Perhaps that is why TSR, publisher of D&D, was looking for something new. 

Since I wasn't particularly into the whole D&D/Roleplaying world, the release of this went right by without me noticing.  But in college, I ran into a fellow who played the game extensively.  He had quite a collection of these books, including this one, so I decided to have a look.

I discovered in later years that this was a new approach to the game in at least two ways.  First, TSR hired a new batch of  highly skilled professional freelance artists to give a more credible look to the product as a whole.   Gone were ink sketches and line drawings that looked like they came from a middle school art class.  These were seasoned pros, and it looked it. 

From the original 1974 edition, and the later pro artist version

Second, TSR looked to a new author who decided it was time to move from 'hack and slash and get the treasure in the next room' to something more story centered.  His name was Tracy Hickman.  He already broke with the traditional theme of most modules by writing an adventure module containing a little more atmosphere and story.  Centered around an ancient Egyptian themed setting (and not the usual quasi-Medieval European), the product was called Pharoah (co-authored by Laura Hickman).   

As I said, I was completely unaware at the time, but I guess it was quite successful and made an impression on the TSR management.  Perhaps people wanted more, too.  So Hickman was given the chance to produce another similar module, expanding on what he had done before.  This time, the module, released near Halloween in 1983, would be Ravenloft.  Cool name, huh.  

You didn't have to be a genius to get the basic setting of the module or figure out the genre that it was based upon. Mind you, this was the early 80s.  We were still a somewhat homogenous culture, so we got vampires and Dracula and all.   You didn't have to wonder what someone meant when they said vampire.  Most of us still conjured images of Bela Lugosi, or perhaps Christopher Lee.  A few might have thought of Frank Langella, but not likely.   No Twilight edgy dropouts, Underworld ninja warrior vampires or Rice hipster rockstar types.  Vampires were basically supernatural undead vermin that must be destroyed, looking like an Eastern European nobleman for trappings.  

After I perused the module, there were a couple things that happened. First, it lent a credibility that I felt had been lacking the first time I attempted to get into the game.  I suppose this is what made me more receptive when a mutual friend invited me to a group of students - mostly in the computer science field - getting together and playing games on Wednesdays.  Though different games were played, and I eventually pushed the group to a more strategy game focus, at the time the anchor game was obviously D&D.  Since by then I had seen this and other more professional products (such as the second 'Monster Manual' ), I was willing to give it another shot. 

The second thing that happened was that it encouraged me to track down and buy the original source material behind the module.  That is, the actual novel Dracula.  Even growing up, I was aware that Dracula was originally a novel.  Though my exposure to vampires was typically through the sequel runs of Hammer or Universal or Abbot and Costello.  Back then, the originals, the classics, like the original Dracula, or  The Wolfman, or Frankenstein, were seldom shown.  Rare was the occasion for those to appear on TV.  It was usually Dracula XVII, or Those Darn Vampires or similar fare on Fritz the Night Owl's Friday Night Double Feature. So I tracked down the novel at the old Long's Bookstore at OSU to discover what I might have been missing.  I bought it in small, Penguin Classics form and took to read it. 

I'll admit, it's an acquired taste.  Done up in epistolatory form, the basic premise is that we're looking at diaries, journal entries, papers, news articles, captain's logs, and a variety of written sources that, pieced together, tell this remarkable tale that the heroes of the book experienced.  Of course I needn't go into the details of the story proper.  That's too well known.  But when I first read it, the format and just the basic cultural and social contexts were certainly a trick to get through.

Despite all that, over the years the novel has grown on me.  I wouldn't say it's a regular read.  Though I have read it several times over the decades.  But I will say the opening - Jonathan Harker's entry Journal - is stand alone one of the best pieces of horror fiction ever.  Even if I don't read the whole book, every Fall I will make sure to squeeze in a jaunt through Mr. Harker's experiences visiting Castle Dracula.  I know of few horror novels or stories that hit almost every perfect bullseye the way that section of the book does.  And not only did it leave a mark with me - heh - it also turned me on to an entire genre of literature that I had, up until then, largely ignored.  Not bad for a game module. 

Oh, and one more thing.  I was a long time fan of maps, dating back to when I would pull out the old Mercator projection we had and spread it on the living room floor, spending hours looking over the different countries and places of the world.  I must admit the breakthrough 3-D maps of the module were alone a piece of inspiration for me - even if the game itself still didn't make sense. There was something they triggered by having the small scale inkblot for the castle, which was then unpacked by such a magnificent 3-D, interconnected floorplan. I've always been a sucker for maps, and castles, and just that feeling you get when you look into a dark doorway and wonder what's beyond. That was more than satisfied with the module's floorplans. 

So that isn't bad from an old module to a game that, at that time, I didn't even play.  It made me receptive to the game after a less than stellar attempt to learn it years earlier.  That helped in later decades when, during the age of Jackson and Potter-mania, my boys would be all about this and similar genre based activities.  It also turned me on to reading not only gothic horror, but 19th Century literature in general.  And that, over the years, remains my favorite period for fiction.  I guess it strikes a chord with me that aligns with my general personality and tendencies.  

I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which please the young and gay. I am no longer young; and my heart, through weary years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirth. Moreover, the walls of my castle are broken; the shadows are many, and the wind breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I may.  From Jonathan Harker's Journal, Chapter II, Dracula