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Pleasant close to the disheartening holiday weekend – sitting in Coppola’s, sipping bourbon, nibbling eggplant rollatini, watching the snow do the full James Joyce monty: His soul swooned softly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.
Joyce left out the reflection of the red neon on the white snow – by far the trippiest part of the spectacle.
Nothing wrong with me that an Adderol script wouldn’t cure, but in the meantime, I’m finding it hard/hard/hard to harness my mind in the directions I want it to go.
I suspect this is an occupational hazard of old age. Geriatric ADD.
I do not like being old one bit. Or rather – I like the fact that I’m so much smarter now than I was even this time last year, but I don’t like the irrelevance, the invisibility. If I sat next to you at a café, and you didn’t know who I am, you wouldn’t notice me. ‘Cause I’m old.
And I really don’t like watching history repeating itself. The technology is new, but everything else is recycled. Everything.
The second time you realize it’s all happened before, you think, Huh. That’s interesting. And you scurry around, buttonholing veritable strangers, Well, see – but this is exactly what happened in 1998 when...
The third time you realize it’s all happened before, it’s just wearisome.
###
I was mildly drunk when I got home. I did a little bit of work, and then settled down to watch Hulu’s dramatization of Stephen King’s 11.22.63.
I’m a big, big Stephen King fan. Not just of his work. Also of his trajectory. He was not a particularly good writer when he started out. And with his degree of success, there was no particular pressure on him to become a good writer. But he did! A story like That Thing, You Can Only Say What It Is in French is just brilliant. Rivals anything Raymond Carver ever wrote.
11.22.63 is a very readable novel whose subtext is actually the Boomer creation myth.
The Boomer creation myth is very tied in to the assassination of John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States.
I have no idea how Millennials view the JFK Presidency.
I think historians these days are generally agreed that it was a disappointment.
From the Bay of Pigs to the Vietnam War, JFK’s foreign policy was a disaster.
I believe JFK was the very first President – with the collusion of his even creepier brother, the Attorney General – to utilize wiretaps, IRS audits, and FBI raids at dawn as punitive measures against those on his enemies list.
JFK’s devotion to physical fitness was a complete joke since he was being kept alive with pharmaceutical cocktails that included regular injections of painkillers and amphetamines. It might have been interesting to do a tox screen on JFK the day of the Cuban Missile crisis.
Nonetheless, the assassination of JFK is some kind of romantic touchstone for many of us Boomers. We all remember exactly what we were doing when we heard about it – well, those of us who haven’t succumbed to Alzheimer’s, of course! (I was climbing the steps of an IRT subway station, on my way to the Brooklyn Library at Grand Army Plaza.) If only JFK hadn’t been assassinated, we think. The world would be such a better place!
Undoing the JFK assassination is the basic plot of 11.22.63.
It’s a very good adaptation. And James Franco reminds me so much of Robin!
Joyce left out the reflection of the red neon on the white snow – by far the trippiest part of the spectacle.
Nothing wrong with me that an Adderol script wouldn’t cure, but in the meantime, I’m finding it hard/hard/hard to harness my mind in the directions I want it to go.
I suspect this is an occupational hazard of old age. Geriatric ADD.
I do not like being old one bit. Or rather – I like the fact that I’m so much smarter now than I was even this time last year, but I don’t like the irrelevance, the invisibility. If I sat next to you at a café, and you didn’t know who I am, you wouldn’t notice me. ‘Cause I’m old.
And I really don’t like watching history repeating itself. The technology is new, but everything else is recycled. Everything.
The second time you realize it’s all happened before, you think, Huh. That’s interesting. And you scurry around, buttonholing veritable strangers, Well, see – but this is exactly what happened in 1998 when...
The third time you realize it’s all happened before, it’s just wearisome.
###
I was mildly drunk when I got home. I did a little bit of work, and then settled down to watch Hulu’s dramatization of Stephen King’s 11.22.63.
I’m a big, big Stephen King fan. Not just of his work. Also of his trajectory. He was not a particularly good writer when he started out. And with his degree of success, there was no particular pressure on him to become a good writer. But he did! A story like That Thing, You Can Only Say What It Is in French is just brilliant. Rivals anything Raymond Carver ever wrote.
11.22.63 is a very readable novel whose subtext is actually the Boomer creation myth.
The Boomer creation myth is very tied in to the assassination of John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States.
I have no idea how Millennials view the JFK Presidency.
I think historians these days are generally agreed that it was a disappointment.
From the Bay of Pigs to the Vietnam War, JFK’s foreign policy was a disaster.
I believe JFK was the very first President – with the collusion of his even creepier brother, the Attorney General – to utilize wiretaps, IRS audits, and FBI raids at dawn as punitive measures against those on his enemies list.
JFK’s devotion to physical fitness was a complete joke since he was being kept alive with pharmaceutical cocktails that included regular injections of painkillers and amphetamines. It might have been interesting to do a tox screen on JFK the day of the Cuban Missile crisis.
Nonetheless, the assassination of JFK is some kind of romantic touchstone for many of us Boomers. We all remember exactly what we were doing when we heard about it – well, those of us who haven’t succumbed to Alzheimer’s, of course! (I was climbing the steps of an IRT subway station, on my way to the Brooklyn Library at Grand Army Plaza.) If only JFK hadn’t been assassinated, we think. The world would be such a better place!
Undoing the JFK assassination is the basic plot of 11.22.63.
It’s a very good adaptation. And James Franco reminds me so much of Robin!
