October 31, 2010
A concentrated afternoon in a large, quiet room with only two old fellas reading ancient newspapers. I read and read and read. I spent the time with a 64 page pamphlet publication called Vancouver through the eyes of a Hobo by Victor Forster published in 1934. It’s a one man polemic on what he observed and decided. A talk back to the city he wanders about in. The pamphlet is raw, flamboyant in its lyricism and is suffused with the writer’s racism toward the Chinese (referred to as the singular “China man”), and his perception that working women were a threat to the working man. What’s curious is how these two groups of people specifically are set against the working man, the working husband. We continue to see immigrants scapegoated for economic difficulties (particularly notable in current US senate election).
Another portrait emerges from this pamphlet of Vancouver as a city of vice and gambling and this man’s belief that the police were entirely in cahoots with it, that it was happening under their nose and so on. Another contemporary theme: the distrust of the police force.
There’s a section in it called The Racing House which offers a portrait of a house where people gathered to wager on races. The caller out would connect by telephone and repeat the narration of the race taking place to those in the room. The portrait makes compelling reading.
***
I found a fascinating book called Depression Stories published by New Star (1976?) by Sydney Hucheson (sp?).
I am revved on the 1930’s and may be moving on from the 1970’s !
October 31, 2010
Tom Raworth
Tom Raworth should be bottled and drunk three times a day.
Yesterday he read in Vancouver.
I told my almost 11 year old it doesn’t get any better.
I hope he believed me.
My favourite moment: the said 11 year old’s laughter.
Young laughter has its own timbre.
Tom has his.
Raworth’s poems are like a roledex on acid. Remind me of the old British Rail train the 125mph. The station in three dots. Bump. Bump. Bump.
It’s enough.
Tom’s figured out what’s enough for the listener
and that nothing’s too much for the reader.
I like this.
October 31, 2010
I just popped over to drop something off to a friend and discovered we were listening to the identical blues song on the radio. She declared herself mesmerized by it and quoted the lyric and I’d just left it on the radio. We now have to discern which song it is. CBC radio has this marvellous Blues program on Sat night called Saturday Night Blues — who’d leave the house? Wow. You can even call the Blues line…
“High drape pants, stripes are really yellow”
October 31, 2010
The BBC weather forecast has begun colour coding the clouds. I like this specificity! The forecast for London for the next three days reads: day 1 light rain, day 2, white cloud, day 3 grey cloud.
I have just checked and Vancouver is due to have Grey Cloud next Weds according to the BBC forecast. Be sure to look out for it now….
October 30, 2010
Duck Lake Gossiper
The Duck Lake Gossiper (1938) was a newsletter (5 cents) published and printed by the unemployed at the Duck Lake Forestry Camp, Powell River BC.
”
KEEP THE CAMPS OPEN
Doctor, Doctor, save the day,
They’re taking my B.C. apples away. ”
(Source Powell River Museum archive & Rusty Nails & Ration Books. Barbara Ann Lambert Trafford Publishing)
October 29, 2010
Penguins do not sleep ever. They nap. There’s a piece in the latest NYRB about a book The Great Penguin Rescue that describes a penguin rescue from an oil spill in South Africa. In one paragraph the aquarist, Dyan diNapoli who wrote the book describes arriving and seeing all the penguins ripped from their mates and shoved into random pens in an enormous warehouse, “serving as an improvised penguin rescue centre.” I think there were 16,000 penguins. My first thought on reading this description concerned the napping arrangement. If there are 16,000 of you in pens and none of you sleep — how can you possible negotiate napping? We struggle to reach consensus on two couches.
I shall read and report.
I am completely down with the penguins. Keep it Penguin.
October 29, 2010
“eggs in literature.”
One of the most popular search terms to reach this blog. I’m honoured, eggs are pretty remarkable.
I just ate one. A high achievement man can attain is the cooking of a good egg, at the right moment. Second only to the cup of tea and that aforementioned perfecto palate cuppa. You know it when you drink it.
October 29, 2010
Huddling
I had been so looking forward to an outing to watch Shadow Machine at W2, but my stomach had other plans and misbehaved.
Earlier today I was reading more on kleptotherming and the Admiral penguins huddling procedures and wonder how this might be adaptable to a short legged, frozen woman in a supposedly temperate climate. Penguins have a nifty “wings out” approach where they lift their wings out as a deflection against the cold. They puff their feathers to trap air. I think the common armpit may mimic this action and shall experiment. They also have bald patches that are less impressive. They have excellent blood flow control to their feet.
October 26, 2010
Thermoregulation
A group of monks known as the Tummo are known to practice biofeedback meditation techniques that allow them to raise their body temperatures substantially.
October 26, 2010
Greenshirt gangle
OK so that previous attempt to warm up did not work, however this complete headbanger in the Green shirt x 2 with his arm flailing has raised my temp 1 degree…
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tQ19tAw6h0&fs=1&hl=en_US]