Five? Thirty? Damn It, I Need to Eat!
June 13, 2007
Mr Thursday has long subscribed to the 5 Second Rule. In fact, we’ve subscribed to it fairly liberally. If we drop our orange peel on our own floor, then we’re picking it back up, whether it be 5 seconds or 10, or even 20 (though, I wonder what circumstances would constitute a 20 second gap between Drop and Pick-Up). If we, however, drop said peel into the kitty litter, then it’s dead to us, regardless of duration. This philosophy may be foolish, willfully ignorant, and rambunctiously stupid, but it is, nonetheless, our modus operandi. So back off.
Some news has come to light that cannot be overlooked, though.
Mr Thursday’s Book Shelf 6: The Soul of Baseball
June 8, 2007
I have written before about Joe Posnanski, a baseball writer for the Kansas City Star, and one of the finer baseball bloggers actively posting. JoePo started his baseball blog, The Soul of Baseball, in part, to advertise for his most recent, eponymously titled, book. He also started it to talk about and celebrate my favoritest sport in a way that he is unable to in his columns. The blog is wonderful. His columns are wonderful. His book is, well, cheap, so I decided to buy it, despite knowing little about (and thus having little interest in) Buck O’Neil, and being generally wary of full-length books penned by people who are used to 800 words at a time.
TSOB has a simple premise. It is merely a series of roadtrips, with Joe and others accompanying Buck O’Neil as he travels around talking about life, and baseball, and the Negro Leagues. To hear that this is a book about a sportwriter taking down the ramblings and actions of a 90-some year old man is to make the book sound like Mitch Album’s literary abortion, Tuesday’s With Morrie. TSOB is not like that. It’s a largely celebratory thing, and not an “here’s some ‘invaluable’ and immeasurable cheesy advice about life and love and sex and shit” book.
There are certain biographical elements to the book, but these are needed for the larger context. Buck is a man who adored baseball and baseball players. He loved the community of it, the generational aspect of it, and the sizzling technical excitement of it. While Buck certainly misses some of his fellow Negro Leagues, this is mostly because Buck was born just after the turn of the century, and most of his fellow Negro Leaguers are long gone. The only time the book gets nostalgic is when an interviewer asks Buck if he misses anything about baseball from the old days, and Buck wistfully remembers how baseball games used to get played on Sunday afternoons, and so everyone in the stands would come straight from church. Buck misses looking out into the stands and seeing everyone decked out in their Sunday finest. The game, though, is still the same, he says.
By the end of the book, I felt a bit ashamed that I wasn’t aware of Buck’s place in history, and like many who were previously familiar with him, felt outrage that Buck was omitted from the Hall of Fame. The book is a very quick read, and well written and interesting. Worth picking up for any baseball fan.
The Soul of Baseball: A Road Trip Through Buck O’Neil’s America
Joe Posnanski
Hardcover: 288 pages
William Morrow
Amazon
Mr Thursday’s Book Shelf 5: The Kindly Ones
June 8, 2007
The Kindly Ones is the ninth installment of Neil Gaiman’s landmark series of Sandman graphic novels. It is easily the longest in the series (at least, so far, though I cannot yet speak to the length of final volume). It possesses this distinction because it concludes (or continues) so many storylines from previous books, and because the story is structured, brilliantly, in the form of a Greek tragedy-even to the point where we’ve got a Greek chorus of witches (as you might remember from reading Macbeth in high school), as well as the Eumenides, here called The Furies, or The Ladies, or, as in the title, The Kindly Ones.
It’s fairly useless to go into the story-it’s so vast and complex that anyone unfamiliar with the books wouldn’t be able to follow with extensive explanation. In short, the immortal Dream of the Endless has granted his son, Orpheus, the boon of death. As a result, the Furies-ancient Greek agents of vengeance-are after him, and there is little he can do to stop them.
The book is the most complex in the series, and in many ways the most brilliant. The references to Greek tragedy and mythology are well established, and well executed, fitting naturally into the long, but tight, storyline. The artwork in Kindly Ones, however, is not my favorite in the series. Marc Hempel, the primary artist, tends to draw a little too simply for my taste, producing an almost cartoony effect. While the artwork doesn’t do much to impress, it is satisfactory in executing the story, and Hempel admittedly does an excellent job of blocking and depicting the action, even if I don’t appreciate his style as much as I’ve enjoyed some of his predecessors in the Sandman series.
This is the second-to-last episode in the Sandman series, which on the whole has been as excellently crafted as just about any novel I’ve read, and, frankly, I’m almost loathe to get the final book, knowing that with it, comes the end of the series for me. It should be required reading for any serious and adventurous reader, and especially for anyone who enjoys non-traditional comic books.
The Sandman Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones
Neil Gaiman
Paperback: 352 pages
Vertigo
Amazon
As Michael Chabon would tell it, in 1939, President Franklin D. Roosevelt proposed establishing a refugee camp in Alaska for persecuted Jews fleeing Nazi-Europe. Whether or not this bit of historical trivia is accurate, I do not know, but Chabon takes the idea and runs with it, presenting Sitka as the Alaskan home for the “Frozen Chosen”. The agreement was that the camp would last sixty years, and thus, this community of Jews gave birth to new generations who had never known life outside Alaska, and yet knew that their time in the place of their birth was coming to an end, as the contract was about to run out. The main character of Chabon’s newest novel, The Yiddish Policemen’s Union, is Meyer Landsman-a modern day Sam Spade or Phillip Marlowe, but with the twists of being both Jewish and, it would seem, manic depressive. Like his predecessors, however, Meyer possesses a profound drinking problem, and a knack for luck and smarmy observation. The story begins as Meyer is awakened by the night manager of the Hotel Zamenhof, where he lives. One of the other tenants is dead, obviously killed, and Meyer, as both an obsessive policeman and paranoid king of a ransacked castle, start the investigation immediately.
His investigation leads him throughout Sitka, where he’s confronted by family-all old, some missed, and some unwanted; by pious Jewish gangsters-the “black hats”; by chess masters and by, perhaps, the Messiah. Overhanging the whodunit caper is the matter of how, in a short two months, the Sitka Jews will be Diaspora again, with many Jews not knowing what they’ll do, and some, like Meyer, barely caring.
The Yiddish Policemen’s Union moves far more quickly than Chabon’s masterpiece, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, but it builds upon Chabon’s goals for his writing. Namely, he manages to infuse an actual story with brilliant prose and three-dimensional characters. The book makes heavy use of the Yiddish language, as well as its accompanying Jewish culture, and every one of its quirks are put to fine comedic, or plot-moving use. The novel reads easily, and beautifully, and it is a kind of well-paced, well-written fiction that should be celebrated at every turn.
The Yiddish Policemen’s Union
Michael Chabon
Hardcover: 432 pages
HarperCollins
Amazon
“The Truth Matters.”
June 6, 2007
So yesterday, there was finally an ending to the Valerie Plame affair. I. Lewis Libby, Vice President Dick Cheney’s former chief of staff, was sentenced to thirty months in prison and a $250,000 fine for perjury in the spy case. This incredibly convoluted and confusing case finally has an end.
This whole case is traced back to a trip by Joseph Wilson, diplomat and husband of Valerie Plame, to Africa in 2003 when he tried to discover the legitimacy of President Bush’s claim in the State of the Union Address that Iraq had purchased “yellow cake” from Niger. Wilson returned and wrote an op-ed for the New York Times titled “What I Didn’t Find in Africa”, which disputed the claim of President Bush and CIA Director George Tenet.
The following week, on July 14, 2003, Robert Novak disclosed in his column that Plame was a CIA operative. This set off a flurry of probes, questions, and inquiries into how this could happen. How could an active agent be exposed? And was she exposed to punish her husband for going against the Bush administration? And today, after all those questions, “Scooter” Libby is going to jail.
Cartoon Body and the Return of Capt. Mal
June 6, 2007
Greetings loyal and highly refined Mr. Thursday audience! Liam here with my first post on official roster at the Curious Mechanism. The tenure of this debut is going to be about a movie, so get ready. You ready? Ok, let’s do this thing.
If you are anything like me, when you saw the posters for the new Keri Russel movie Waitress, you thought one thing:
“Why have they photoshopped Keri Russell’s head unto a clearly cartoon body?”
Ok, so there is more then likely a good chance none of you thought that. But as I was waiting in my local Regal cinema to see this movie (I had missed it during it’s run at the Philadelphia Film Fest) I was staring at a giant cut our of this poster and thinking that it was one of the oddest things I had ever seen. The body to which they have attached Kerri Russel’s head is so clearly not real, it is not even flatters. My experience with photoshopped bodies is usually seeing the cover of a magazine in the grocery store or borders and thinking that while the proportions of the represented female are impossible, well they still kinda look real. This does not even look real, the arms terribly out of proportion, the body looking like one of thos girls room icons to let you know it is okay to use that one if you are penis free.
So, why bring up this terrible promotional poster? After seeing the film I realized that this poster represents why most people who would like this film will not see it and people like me who loved it will most likely not see it at all. Waitress is written and directed by the now deceased Adrienne Shelly. Shelly passed away mysteriously just before the film opened, and is not able to enjoy the mild success the film has had. Now Shelly is the reason I would even go to see a movie with such a terrible promotional poster in the first place. For those who do not know, Shelly is a relatively accomplished indy film actress, and Waitress represents her sixth directing effort. I have to be honest though, I am only slightly familiar with her entire acting filmography and I have never seen a single other movie she directed.
But, Shelly was in Hal Hartley’s The Unbelievable Truth. Her first film, this ridiculous movie was so odd and unfathomably good when I saw it that Shelly became burned into my mind as just an interesting figure. I am still waiting for Netflix to send me the rest of her career, and it might make an interesting topic to write about on here. Well Waitress, to me, has more in common with offbeat indy films like Hartley’s then the sappy romantic comedey it is being sold as by the terrible poster.
Russell turns in a stellar performance as Jenna, a waitress and master pie chef whose pies spring out of her at moments of stress or creative frustration. The pie ideas alone, as varied as they are delicious sounding are worth the price of the film. Jenna is married to Earl, played by the ever missed Jeremy Sisto, and she hates him. She doesn’t just kind of hate him, she loathes her life with him. Early in the movie we are given our dramatic tension. Earl has gotten Jenna drunk one night and actually had sex with her, and Jenna is worried she may be pregnant. When this is confirmed she laments that it is gonna be even harder to run away from Earl now and start her life over.
Yeah, it is gonna be that kind of movie. The cast, in which Shelly also participates as the cute and insecure dawn, is amazing. I mean, they got freaking Andy Griffith to play a cantankerous and hilarious old man, what else do you want? However, the highlight of the cast for me is the lovable Cap’n Malcolm Reynolds himself, Nathan Fillion. Ever since I saw Serenity and then watched the entire run of Firefly, I have been obsessed with this guy. His comic timing is amazing, and his portrayal here of awkward but charming Dr. Pomatter is classic, as he vacillates between totally in charge and charming to totally confused and flustered in any one scene. There is def a tiny bit of Captain Reynolds in his performance, but I can forgive him this as Reynolds is one of my favorite characters in a long time.
Waitress delivers the laughs with a cynical biting wit and a dark take on human experience and relationships, yet much like hartly who I unfairly will always associate her with, Shelly does not leave us without hope. This film does what movies like Little Miss Sunshine and American Fork have been making more acceptable, and I think partly in the wake of films like Punch-Drunk Love and The Royal Tennenbaums, and that is explore some of the depressing and dark realities of human experience with a smile on their face and a note of hope. Jenna is not perfect, she is not morally pure, and Earl is not just an unsympathetic jerk, nor is Dr Pomatter Jenna’s saviour nor completely blameless. All characters are flawed, they say inappropriate and cruel things at times. Yet their live is never devoid of a certain dignity and beauty, if one is simply willing to be ridiculous enough to see it. Of course, the ending is sappy enough that some who enjoy the biting jokes through out may feel slightly let down. But what exactly is represented by the dirt road in the woods? notice it is not a hospitable place we leave or character in, yet she is still happy and content in her final journey. That is significant i think for where Shelly wanted to leave her audience.
Waitress is hilarious, cruel at times, and very touching. What else do you want? It is really a tragedy that such a talented young director as Shelly is gone, one can only imagine where she would have gone from here. As it is, do yourself a favor and go see this movie before it gets pushed out by another summer blockbuster piece of crap.
Introducing…
June 6, 2007
The newest member of Mr Thursday’s Curious Mechanism…. Liam O!
Liam hails from the great state of New Jersey. New Jersey is one of my favorite states in the Union. It’s a misunderstood wonderland. It’s northern half is almost entirely the property of New York City, while Southern Jersey is for the Philadelphians. Liam is from outside of Camden, so he grew up a short ride from the Cradle of Liberty, though he currently resides in Princeton, and I can say with certainty that he is one of the Garden State’s finest products.
He’s coming on to add some spice to our site, as he is more than capable of writing about movies, books, music, religion, politics, comic books, and facial hair. He’s hot stuff. And you’ll forgive us if he starts overwhelming the site with YouTube videos of Mastodon concerts. Some of us just happen to like Blood Mountain. A lot.
A Grand Return
June 4, 2007
Did you miss me?
How long has it been since I’ve posted? Two weeks? More than that? Allow me to explain why, in brief.
I started this site a few months ago with simple intentions. It was to act as a thorough commentary and source of information–relevant or obscure–for anyone who chances to come by. The biggest thing that I hoped would eventually separate Mr Thursday’s Curious Mechanism from the million other, better blogs that cover sports or science or music or other nonsense would be our length. The depth of our analysis. I was, in the beginning, less concerned with the quantity of posts, and far more concerned with their quality.
Due to the infrequency of posting on this site, and my total lack of self-advertising, we got very few hits. For the record, to the best of my knowledge, only once has any member of the Curious Mechanism submitted one of our posts for linking from another website. We were unsuccessful. We were lucky enough to get linked from The Big Lead and suddenly our hit rate skyrocketed. Well, in our measly terms. We now get around 200 hits a day. Puny by most standards, but considered that we averaged about 50/day before TBL linked us in April, we have to view this as a considerable improvement.
Around that time, I realized that, hey, the more posts we produce, the most people will come to the site. Thus, the additions of Andy, Katie, and Paul to the site. I have neither the time nor particular inclination to write substantial, varied posts on a daily basis, and these three writers helped, for a time, to raise the bar for the site, provided excellent, regular, content. This meant that I had to account for roughly 4 posts/week myself, to keep the average of at least 1 post per day alive. The site, as a result, continued to grow, somewhat, and I have to admit a certain degree of pleasure derived from this.
I realized though, in mid-May, I was getting sick of this. My posting had gone from occasional and, I think, interesting, to constant, and draining. When was the last time I wrote a post of substance on anything not covered in one of the regular features (i.e. GoodEnough, Book Shelf, Foot & Meter, Sine Macula)? I’d estimate April.
Now, ambition is a part of my self-perceived downfall. The desire to have a mass of readers, thousands of hits a day, etc etc. The other part of this, I kid you not, is probably baseball season. You know what I think about pretty constantly from February through October? Balls and sticks and stuff. I adore the baseball. I follow is obsessively. Compulsively. All sorts of other -sivelys. I like soccer, a lot. I will watch football out of habit, though I’m not heartbroken after losses, nor do I much care if I miss a game. I have an interest in basketball, but it’s been somewhat stifled after growing up rooting for the team that traded Charles Barkley when I was 9, and continued to embarrass basketball for the next 8 or so years, before one glorious and unexpected 2000-01 season, after which, professional basketball in Philadelphia become nearly unwatchable, yet again. Trust me, my friends, you are unaware of true emotional pain until Kevin Ollie has been your starting point guard. At least there’s still the Big Five. I like hockey, especially in the playoffs, but have little interest in non-Flyer teams. But when baseball season comes along…well, there’s not room in my heart for much else.
So I haven’t spent the time I’d like searching out more interesting stories. I concentrated on just “getting posts up”, rather than the actual act of writing. So, I burned myself out after spending a couple hours every Sunday slowly uploading rookie pitcher stats and rambling on about a rise in WHIP and how great Tim Lincecum is whenever he doesn’t face the Phillies.
No more of that. Well, I’ll still do GoodEnough and the other features, but I’m not sure if they’ll still be as clockwork as they once were. Perhaps Sine Macula will only appear on those occasions when I cannot stop listening to Tea for the Tillerman or OK Computer or More Songs About Buildings and Food. If you like those posts, fear not. It’s not uncommon that I’m struck by the desire to hear good music over and over again. I’m going to simplify the GoodEnough standings to make them easier to update. Sorry, you’ll have to look up stats like ERA and WHIP and all that yourself. I really recommend Baseball-Reference.com if you’re looking for that kind of info. But I’ll still write when the standings undergo an interesting change, or if there’s a young pitcher worth profiling (like this Justin Germano fellow, who used to play for the Phillies). I’m several books behind for the Book Shelf, but I’ll try to get up some quick and dirty write-ups for them in the future. As always, Foot&Meter, my favorite column, will continue to get written sporadically, though I’m still going to shoot for roughly once per month. I missed May, I know, but maybe I’ll try to hit June twice.
I’m going to return to politics. Partly because I find it interesting, and partly out of habit. I’m definitely returning to science–it’s been far too long since we wrote about space and bird flu. We’re going to start a new series in a few weeks, dealing with unusual subject matter for this blog, with the posts mostly coming from Mrs Thursday. I’m not sure how well this one will work–it’s possible that, under the circumstances, we might have to start the series in September instead of early July, but I promise more information soon, and quality posts later.
So, that’s that. I’m back, and thus, I’m back in the habit of harassing Andy, Katie, and Paul into writing, again. They slacked in my absence. Nerds. I don’t know how often we’ll have new posts here. Probably not everyday, but I promise you that most of our posts will be worth reading. Given our likely irregularity, I highly recommend you read us via feed (mrthursday.com/feed). And I hope you continue to enjoy us–we only hope to improve.
-Mr Thursday
