The Greatest Civil War Western – The Outlaw Josie Wales

by Daniel Mallock

The Outlaw Josie Wales is my favorite western. It’s considered by some folks to be the greatest western. I agree.

A great western should have a collection of strong key elements, and Josie Wales has them all. The setting is the savage Civil War in Missouri and Kansas where atrocities and outrages were perpetrated by irregulars of both sides. Folks at the time called these criminals and guerrillas “bushwackers”. The fighting in this theater of the Civil War is not commonly known by non-students and historians and was particularly ugly and violent. Most actions were small unit affairs, with people who were well known to one another before the war fighting under opposing flags. Violence and crimes against civilians was common as both legitimate armies used irregulars to terrorize the civilian population. The massacre at Centralia, Missouri , September 27, 1864 was perpetrated by Bloody Bill Anderson and his men. There is no mention of this event in the film, of course, as there could be no sympathy for anyone who had had a part in that abomination.

Josie Wales captures the ugliness and horror of those times and provides a motivator to the title character when his family is murdered by Kansas Union irregulars. Wales is enraged and joins Bloody Bill Anderson’s Confederate guerrilla outfit. When the War ends, they are one of the last organized Confederate units to surrender (at least according to the film). Wales’ comrades surrender themselves at a Union camp, but Josie refuses. But everything is not as it seems and as the men surrender their arms and take the Oath of Allegiance to the Union, they are viciously murdered in cold blood. It turns out that the same unit that has just killed his fellow Confederates is the very same that had killed his family several years before. And so the chase begins… Wales is now the “Outlaw Josie Wales” running from bounty hunters and every male in the territory with a gun not to mention the Union army.

Josie Wales is played by Clint Eastwood in one his best performances. The character is very much like the “Man with no name” from his Spaghetti Western days. Closer to “Blondie” in The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly than the silent gunslinger of “Pale Rider” Wales is essentially a good man driven to revenge and violence by circumstances. He is the everyman of the Civil War dragged into the maelstrom of events. As he runs from his pursuers he picks up a ragtag crew of fascinating characters who ride with him, eventually heading for southern Texas. Along the way there are gunfights, suspense, and lots of action.

A great western should have certain components including:

• beautiful desert scenery
• a good story line
• small ramshackle frontier towns
• a hero or anti-hero with strong and understandable motivations
• guns, ideally pistols
• cool hats
• indians
• lots of horses
• rotten villains

Outlaw Josie Wales (1976) was directed by Eastwood as well as starring himself. Sandra Locke, later his common law wife, Chief Dan George, and John Vernon co-star.

Wales is an avenger as he rides across deserts and through broken down frontier towns. He has no options, but to find a place to hide, or just keep on riding forever. Every shooting that involve him is self-defense or in the defense of others who cannot defend themselves. He is a hero, an unsurrendered Confederate partisan, haunted by the senseless murder of his family.

Josie Wales has beautiful scenery, lots of horses and pistols, rotten villains who deserve to get shot (and generally do), suffering innocents who need protection, and one of the coolest hats in American cinema history.

Josie Wales’ hat is stained with sweat, it’s a deep Confederate Gray with a wide and slightly upturned brim. Eastwood hides his eyes under the brim of this hat, and when he slightly lifts his head to look at someone – they know quickly that Wales is not a man to be trifled with. He has a sense of honor and obligation to others, but has no compunction in shooting those who are hunting him or are fixin’ to hurt his friends.

There is a funny moment after Eastwood and his friends have arrived at their Texas destination. Sondra Locke dressed in a fine white dress talks about how beautiful the clouds look. She represents the stability, and happiness of his pre-war life and the look of sadness and dissociation that Eastwood delivers is a fine and sad one. After all of his war-fighting, his losses, and the personal toll that the War has taken, Josie Wales must try very hard to find a place for himself in a peaceful and stable post-war environment. Killing is easy now for him, it’s the living without violence that will be so challenging. One of the more powerful aspects of his character is that he so wants to try.

“For the Union Dead” by Robert Lowell – A Superb Civil War Poem that Continues to Resonate

Introduction by Daniel Mallock

It is altogether fitting and proper that this poem should be posted and read today, of all days. Martin Luther King day is the right day for this poem, this tribute to the Union dead of the Civil War and a particular remembrance of the black soldiers who wore the uniform of the Union particularly of the Massachusetts 54th Regiment made famous to non-Civil War students by the movie Glory several years ago.

The 54th Massachusetts was the first black regiment to march from the North to fight the Confederacy. These men were quite brave knowing that in battle they would likely get little or no quarter, and if captured they would most assuredly be sent south back to slavery. These men had much to prove what with years of racism from North and South to be broken and defeated by their bravery and sacrifices not to mention the Confederate army that they would later face on the battlefield. They would win ever-lasting fame for their courage during their doomed assault on Fort Wagner at Charleston Harbor, South Carolina, July, 1863. The attack would be a night assault on this heavily guarded fort. The fighting would be intense and the 54th would not be successful. Their white colonel, Robert Gould Shaw would be killed, and almost half the regiment would be lost. The first Medal of Honor for a black man would be earned there.

They marched down Beacon Street, with the Massachusetts State House on one side and Boston Common on the other – off to war, off to death and glory on a twin mission; to fight for the Union and show the world that they were equal in ability to whites. Directly across the street from the Massachusetts State House on Beacon Street there now stands the brilliant monument by Augustus St. Gaudens forever commemorating the 54th, the first black regiment and their white commander Colonel Robert Gould Shaw.

Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, Colonel, 54th Massachusetts

This monument on Beacon Hill is one of the finest monuments of any kind in the United States. As a tribute to Shaw and the 54th it is unparalled in the physical world; but in the emotional world, the world of poetry, Robert Lowell comes quite close. Lowell brilliantly describes the monument to the 54th and works it into the life of Boston that foremost of abolition cities of the North. Standing before the 54th monument on Beacon Hill, as the crowds walk swiftly by and the traffic speeds along past the State House, one can almost hear the men breath as they are forever frozen in bronze on their march south to battle. There are few monuments in bronze as lifelike as this one: it is an incredible tribute to the 54th and their commander and adorns the city of Boston as fittingly as the obelisk at Bunker Hill or the colonial historical sites of Adams, Revere, Hancock, and several miles to the west, Lexington and Concord.

Lowell’s “For the Union Dead” is a successful poem on so many levels and succeeds completely where Tate’s “Ode to the Confederate Dead” so totally fails. It unifies time and place, and brings context and permanence where everything seems to be shifting and changing. As a tribute to the 54th and the Union dead of the Civil War its elements run as deep as the waters off the coast of Boston seen from the top of Beacon Hill so long ago when the skyscrapers didn’t block the view.

Having started his education at Harvard Lowell transfered to Kenyon College to study under John Crowe Ransom another of Vanderbilt’s Fugitives, like Allen Tate and Donald Davidson. It is an astounding thing that the two greatest Civil War poems of modern times (“Lee in the Mountains” and “For the Union Dead”) and the worst (“Ode to the Confederate Dead”) should be written by poets with Nashville connections. Lowell went on to graduate school to study under Robert Penn Warren, another Vanderbilt “Fugitive”.

St. Gaudens placed a latin inscription on the monument, the motto of the Society of the Cincinnati (a society of Revolutionary War officers started by George Washington and Henry Knox): “Relinquit Omnia Servare Rem Publicam”. The translation is: “He left behind everything to save the Republic”. Lowell opened his poem with this latin phrase but changed the singular “he” to “they” in the latin so that his poem would refer to all the men of the 54th not just its white commander, Robert Gould Shaw, to read: “Relinquunt Omnia Servare Rem Publicam”.

St. Gaudens’ Masterpiece – The 54th Massachusetts Marching to War – You can almost hear them breath

“For the Union Dead” was published in 1964 during the height of the Civil Rights movement. Active in Civil Rights efforts it is perfectly understandable that Lowell should have written this poem of unity and appreciation with concern, too, that the past should be remembered and its lessons learned. The battlefield of Fort Wagner had been by then reclaimed by the sea at Charleston Harbor and the monument to the 54th had fallen into disrepair. In fact, it was during this time that the St. Gaudens monument had been removed and stored in a crate to prevent damage from “shaking” from the construction of the underground Boston Commons parking garage. So, the battleground is gone, and Shaw’s monunument is gone (but only temporarily), and history fades while “progress” continues speedily obliterating the memory of those that have come before.

“The stone statues of the abstract Union Soldier
grow slimmer and younger each year–
wasp-waisted, they doze over muskets
and muse through their sideburns . . .”

Lowell’s brilliant poem is his way of retaining the past and ensuring that important historical memory is not lost forever. The men of the 54th Massachusetts, black and white, were leaders in bringing an end to slavery and establishing equality under the law for blacks in America. The story of their bravery and sacrifice is important to understanding American history and the Civil War. These men demonstrated with their actions and their blood that they were equals and merited equal positions in American society. As Americans North and South we ought to continue to embrace their memory and appreciate the many challenges that they overcame and the lessons that they taught us with their sacrifices at Fort Wagner and elsewhere.

On Martin Luther King day especially we can look back to the 54th Massachusetts as a standard bearer in the struggle for Civil Rights in America. In the 1980s I was privileged to be part of an effort to restore the St. Gaudens monument to its original beauty and power. Lowell’s poem is a tribute to this beautiful work of art, and the men of the 54th Massachusetts who so inspired it. It is our duty as a civilized society to remember our past, appreciate and commemorate our war dead, and learn those lessons that they underscored for later generations with their lives.

“Two months after marching through Boston,
half the regiment was dead;
at the dedication,
William James could almost hear the bronze Negroes breathe.”

This is one of the finest poems of the 20th century and stands with “Lee in the Mountains” as one of the two great modern poems of the Civil War. It is my pleasure to present it here.

-Daniel Mallock

For the Union Dead

by Robert Lowell

“Relinquunt Omnia Servare Rem Publicam.”

The old South Boston Aquarium stands
in a Sahara of snow now. Its broken windows are boarded.
The bronze weathervane cod has lost half its scales.
The airy tanks are dry.

Once my nose crawled like a snail on the glass;
my hand tingled
to burst the bubbles
drifting from the noses of the cowed, compliant fish.

My hand draws back. I often sigh still
for the dark downward and vegetating kingdom
of the fish and reptile. One morning last March,
I pressed against the new barbed and galvanized

fence on the Boston Common. Behind their cage,
yellow dinosaur steamshovels were grunting
as they cropped up tons of mush and grass
to gouge their underworld garage.

Parking spaces luxuriate like civic
sandpiles in the heart of Boston.
A girdle of orange, Puritan-pumpkin colored girders
braces the tingling Statehouse,

shaking over the excavations, as it faces Colonel Shaw
and his bell-cheeked Negro infantry
on St. Gaudens’ shaking Civil War relief,
propped by a plank splint against the garage’s earthquake.

Two months after marching through Boston,
half the regiment was dead;
at the dedication,
William James could almost hear the bronze Negroes breathe.

Their monument sticks like a fishbone
in the city’s throat.
Its Colonel is as lean
as a compass-needle.

He has an angry wrenlike vigilance,
a greyhound’s gently tautness;
he seems to wince at pleasure,
and suffocate for privacy.

He is out of bounds now. He rejoices in man’s lovely,
peculiar power to choose life and die–
when he leads his black soldiers to death,
he cannot bend his back.

On a thousand small town New England greens,
the old white churches hold their air
of sparse, sincere rebellion; frayed flags
quilt the graveyards of the Grand Army of the Republic.

The stone statues of the abstract Union Soldier
grow slimmer and younger each year–
wasp-waisted, they doze over muskets
and muse through their sideburns . . .

Shaw’s father wanted no monument
except the ditch,
where his son’s body was thrown
and lost with his “niggers.”

The ditch is nearer.
There are no statues for the last war here;
on Boylston Street, a commercial photograph
shows Hiroshima boiling

over a Mosler Safe, the “Rock of Ages”
that survived the blast. Space is nearer.
When I crouch to my television set,
the drained faces of Negro school-children rise like balloons.

Colonel Shaw
is riding on his bubble,
he waits
for the blessèd break.

The Aquarium is gone. Everywhere,
giant finned cars nose forward like fish;
a savage servility
slides by on grease.

54th:

http://www.nga.gov/feature/shaw/s3100.shtm

http://www.54thmass.org/54about.html

Shaw:

http://militaryhistory.about.com/od/1800sarmybiographies/p/rgshaw.htm

Monument:

http://boston.about.com/od/walkingtours/ss/bcWalkingTour_10.htm

(photo of monument: Robert Gould Shaw Memorial photo courtesy Larry Stritof © 2006.)

Allen Tate’s Failed Poem “Ode to the Confederate Dead”

Introduction by Daniel Mallock

“The Horror, the Horror” – Joseph Conrad

So much of modern American poetry is self-indulgent; semi-obscure, purposely confused, overly complicated, essentially tonal, and mood pieces rather than art involving substance and depth. Perhaps this is why there is an ever-shrinking audience for it and why the only lively and enthusiastic discussions on such matters take place in staid and boring academic literary journals and poetry magazines that nobody reads, or in back rooms and dark corners of downtown book stores.

This approach to poetry by poets is often a hidden disdain for the readership, and their more common place yet elegant self-referential excess of construction, imagery, metaphor and message perhaps make poetry now the art form of the elite “artistes” of academia and folks amongst the great hoi polloi who – so wanting to like poetry so wanting to see it revived and reinvigorated wait patiently for another Whitman or Poe or the like – to the poets themselves, just don’t “get it” and never can or will.

Say that you like poetry, and the response will invariably be “but, why?”

Poems that tend to drive wedges between the reader and the form itself and that are so confused in their approach that loyal fans think it means one thing while the auteur believes it means quite something else in the opposite direction – is the mark of an art form in decline. There continues a small coterie of poetry fans who still buy poetry books and talk about poets and keep the flame alive like the readers in Fahrenheit 451 who hid their books at risk of imprisonment and worse. So we wait for a Poe, another John Ashberry, and others of superb quality, but we get Allen Tate’s “Ode to the Confederate Dead” instead with its pompous odius misdirection disguised as tribute.

Tate’s “Ode” is really neither about Confederates nor really about the dead. Additionally, it is also not “original” in the literal sense. Henry Timrod, sometimes described as the “Confederate Poet laureate” wrote an “ode” poem that actually was a tribute to the Confederate dead unlike Tate’s which was not, whether by accident, malfeasance, or design we’ll never know. Titled “Ode: Sung on the Occasion of Decorating the Graves of the Confederate Dead at Magnolia Cemetery, Charleston, S.C., 1867″ Timrod’s poem is short, emotional, sad, honest, and most likely deeply meaningful to any audience hearing it read (or for those reading it themselves). It is not at all obscurantism like Tate’s homage to Timrod written much later, and foisted upon us as a tribute to the Confederate dead rather than simply a appalling failed poem by a famous poet.

Tate’s Ode is not a tribute, it is simply a failure. Oft-read by caring folks as a tribute to Confederates long gone, it is a mistake. According to one Williamson County, TN website, “It remains, the works of Robert Hicks and Madison Smartt Bell notwithstanding, the most important piece of literature to come out of Williamson County.” This is utterly absurd. Randall Jarrell, and David Donaldson, both Vanderbilt colleagues of Tate’s are superior poets. As a partisan for southern remembrance, having written several biographies of Confederate heroes (Jackson and Davis) Tate seems to have the requisite qualifications to have penned a great tribute poem for the Confederate dead, appropriate for graveside readings. But if he did, this is not the poem. Great artists can create bad art, happens all the time.

According to the Williamson County website mentioned above, Tate was inspired to write the Ode after a 1926 visit to the McGavock Confederate Cemetery at the Carnton Mansion which played itself an important role during the Battle of Franklin. There are almost 1500 Confederate dead in that cemetery many in mass graves that are marked only with a state designation as “125 Texas soldiers buried here” etched into a granite column. It is no insult to Tate personally to say that this is a bad poem. Contrast it with “Lee in the Mountains” or Lowell’s “For the Union Dead” and you will see why. Or read Timrod’s original “Ode “. Timrod’s rings and sings true, Tate’s Ode does neither basking in its own glow and of little moment outside of its own internal context.

Tate’s poem is overdone and internally confused so that his use of powerful words that ring to everyone with any sense of respect and affection for Confederate heros would think that they are reading or hearing a tribute – but it just isn’t so. Even great poets from Vanderbilt’s famous “Fugitives” can misfire now and then. Tate’s Ode is a clear miss, much more than a misfired poem.

Mention of battle names and “Stonewall” in several lines does not a Civil War poem make. Tate clearly took this poem exceedingly seriously and that adds to the shame of it as it is simply exceedingly bad. Folks hungry for meaningful poetry about the Civil War have long heaped praise upon this conglomeration of unfortunate metaphors and falling leaves outside graveyard crypts. It’s the use of the Civil War “code words” that have made this poem so famous, and so mistakenly lauded as brilliant.

I am not the only one who feels this way. Certainly in the minority on this issue, it is good to know that I am in good company. Donald Davidson, a colleague of Tate’s at Vanderbilt and the author of the beautiful and authoritative “Lee in the Mountains” used harsh words to describe Tate’s “Ode to the Confederate Dead”. In a letter to Tate, Davidson didn’t mince any words when he said, “Your poetry, like your criticism, is so astringent that it bites and dissolves what it touches.” But this is just the beginning. Great poets can be savage critics, and when they criticize each other – yipes, watch out!

“You have decided that the opposite sort of poetry (say, an expansive poetry) can no longer be written in an age where everything is in a terrible condition. But this attitude does not merely lie behind the poetry; it gets into it, not in the form of poetry but of aesthetics, so that poem after poem of yours becomes aesthetic dissertation as much as poetry. … [W]hen you deal with things themselves, the things become a ruin and crackle like broken shards under your feet. The Confederate dead become a peg on which you hang an argument whose lines, however sonorous and beautiful in a strict proud way, leave me wondering why you wrote a poem on the subject at all, since in effect you say (and I suspect you are speaking partly to me) that no poem can be written on such a subject…

The poem is beautifully written. … But its beauty is a cold beauty. And where, O Allen Tate, are the dead? You have buried them completely out of sight – with them yourself and me. God help us, I must say. You keep on whittling your art to a finer point, but you are not whittling yourself. What is going to happen if the only poetry you can allow your conscience to approve is a poetry of argument and despair. Fine as such a poetry may be, is it not a Pyrrhic victory?”

I’ve often found myself asking the same question that Davidson did so many years previously, why did Tate write this poem nominally about the Confederate dead when they are so glossed over? Why choose the Confederate dead as the title? It’s a bait-and-switch, typical of bad art.

There are so many failures in this poem that discussing them all could fill a book, which is not my desire. As a poem it’s a mish-mash confabulation of unfortunate images and metaphors utterly out of sync and described confusedly, without context and with little respect of history or reality. This poem doesn’t sing, it scrapes itself across the blackboard of the mind making that abysmal irritating screeching sound so familiar to every school child all the while!

Observe the poem as a Civil War historian, as someone who appreciates the sacrifices of American soldiers in past wars; think about how this poem would sound read over the graves of heroes – and be appalled…

“Unfortunate” is merely the most kind word to use here, but not at all the most accurate. Read the following section from Tate’s Ode, and ask yourself if the imagery is all wrong, confused, negative, insulting, grotesque.

“What shall we who count our days and bow
Our heads with a commemorial woe
In the ribboned coats of grim felicity,
What shall we say of the bones, unclean,
Whose verdurous anonymity will grow?
The ragged arms, the ragged heads and eyes
Lost in these acres of the insane green?
The gray lean spiders come, they come and go;”

The above bizarre cacophony of images of the rotting dead, and gray spiders (Confederate spiders… huh?) and unclean bones is but only part of the many assaults upon the reader by Tate. How can Confederate bones in a poem supposed by so many to be a tribute be unclean? The bones of our American war dead, Confederate and Union, cannot be unclean! Tate’s imagery is vile.

These are not the words of commemoration of loss or sadness or of appreciation. This is no veneration appreciation of the sacrifices of the Confederate dead! These are words that reduce the dead to their very bones and shiver their accomplishments out of context from their lives so that the only thing remaining in the poem to mark their lives are the Confederate gray spiders to be trodden under foot and screamed at by little girls and old women.

Observe the Civil War code words in the following lines in this also muddled and bizarre section, these are the source of this poem’s longevity and also the source of so much misunderstanding:

“Turn your eyes to the immoderate past,
Turn to the inscrutable infantry rising
Demons out of the earth they will not last.
Stonewall, Stonewall, and the sunken fields of hemp,
Shiloh, Antietam, Malvern Hill, Bull Run.
Lost in that orient of the thick and fast
You will curse the setting sun.”

There is false mystery here, and fake sentiment. Confederate infantry is not “inscrutable”. The dead at Franklin are there because of a specific historic event, the battle of Franklin, November 30, 1864. Confederate infantry are not demons. “Demons”? Did Tate actually suggest here that Confederate infantrymen are “demons”?? This is misery and absurdity rolled all together into an abysmal ball thrown at people on dark and sad occasions thinking that they are giving tribute/paying tribute to lost heroes but are instead indulging a poet his awful and unfortunate mistake of a poem. Why on earth would “I/you” curse the setting sun? Should I curse the setting sun for all the horrible Confederate losses during the war or do I curse the setting sun because I am sad at the deaths of brave men resting in the cemetery? No, in Tate’s twisted-up version the men are not resting at all in the cemetery, they are “rising” – oh, you know, like gray spiders.

“Turn your eyes to the immoderate past,
Turn to the inscrutable infantry rising
Demons out of the earth they will not last.”

Can anyone listening to a recitation of this abysmal monstrosity of a poem truly believe that it is a tribute to dead Confederate soldiers when they are described as “gray spiders”, and “demons”? No!

Never has a more unfortunate mess been foisted upon a caring public so desperate for ways to honor the bravery of their forebears. Tate’s poem “ode to the Confederate Dead” is not the way. This poem should be rendered asunder and banished into the black holes of obscurity where it belongs. Mind you, this is not a condemnation of all of Tate’s work merely this one poem so wrongly portrayed as an appropriate commemoration of Confederate dead (even read at Confederate cemeteries!) while it is not all such a thing.

A poem can fail for so many reasons. Davidson was so right when he wrote, “The poem is beautifully written. … But its beauty is a cold beauty. And where, O Allen Tate, are the dead? You have buried them completely out of sight – with them yourself and me.” The poem reads “well” as do most poems written by an accomplished poet such as Tate. But it is cold, and heartless.

There is no care for the Confederate dead here, in fact they don’t even appear in the poem but as demons and spiders. The heroes are converted to the ugliest of images, and the sacrifices and losses ignored, while the poet plays his literary games with metre and rhythm and names of battles – clearly meaningless to him, but hooks for the audience like a bad ABBA tune’s irresistible hook.

But I do not care a whit about Tate’s internal poetics or his “music”, I want a Civil War poem that is an Ode to the Confederate Dead, a tribute and appreciation. This is the manner that this poem has always been sold to me through my life, having been read at Civil War events with the direst and humblest of tones. But I’ve been sold a bill of goods and been cheated throughout my life and now the truth needs to be told so that future generations are not so abused as I have been by this wretched poem.

Ode to the Confederate Dead
by Allen Tate

Row after row with strict impunity
The headstones yield their names to the element,
The wind whirrs without recollection;
In the riven troughs the splayed leaves
Pile up, of nature the casual sacrament
To the seasonal eternity of death;
Then driven by the fierce scrutiny
Of heaven to their election in the vast breath,
They sough the rumour of mortality.

Autumn is desolation in the plot
Of a thousand acres where these memories grow
From the inexhaustible bodies that are not
Dead, but feed the grass row after rich row.
Think of the autumns that have come and gone!–
Ambitious November with the humors of the year,
With a particular zeal for every slab,
Staining the uncomfortable angels that rot
On the slabs, a wing chipped here, an arm there:
The brute curiosity of an angel’s stare
Turns you, like them, to stone,
Transforms the heaving air
Till plunged to a heavier world below
You shift your sea-space blindly
Heaving, turning like the blind crab.

Dazed by the wind, only the wind
The leaves flying, plunge

You know who have waited by the wall
The twilight certainty of an animal,
Those midnight restitutions of the blood
You know–the immitigable pines, the smoky frieze
Of the sky, the sudden call: you know the rage,
The cold pool left by the mounting flood,
Of muted Zeno and Parmenides.
You who have waited for the angry resolution
Of those desires that should be yours tomorrow,
You know the unimportant shrift of death
And praise the vision
And praise the arrogant circumstance
Of those who fall
Rank upon rank, hurried beyond decision–
Here by the sagging gate, stopped by the wall.

Seeing, seeing only the leaves
Flying, plunge and expire

Turn your eyes to the immoderate past,
Turn to the inscrutable infantry rising
Demons out of the earth they will not last.
Stonewall, Stonewall, and the sunken fields of hemp,
Shiloh, Antietam, Malvern Hill, Bull Run.
Lost in that orient of the thick and fast
You will curse the setting sun.

Cursing only the leaves crying
Like an old man in a storm

You hear the shout, the crazy hemlocks point
With troubled fingers to the silence which
Smothers you, a mummy, in time.

The hound bitch
Toothless and dying, in a musty cellar
Hears the wind only.

Now that the salt of their blood
Stiffens the saltier oblivion of the sea,
Seals the malignant purity of the flood,
What shall we who count our days and bow
Our heads with a commemorial woe
In the ribboned coats of grim felicity,
What shall we say of the bones, unclean,
Whose verdurous anonymity will grow?
The ragged arms, the ragged heads and eyes
Lost in these acres of the insane green?
The gray lean spiders come, they come and go;
In a tangle of willows without light
The singular screech-owl’s tight
Invisible lyric seeds the mind
With the furious murmur of their chivalry.

We shall say only the leaves
Flying, plunge and expire

We shall say only the leaves whispering
In the improbable mist of nightfall
That flies on multiple wing:
Night is the beginning and the end
And in between the ends of distraction
Waits mute speculation, the patient curse
That stones the eyes, or like the jaguar leaps
For his own image in a jungle pool, his victim.

What shall we say who have knowledge
Carried to the heart? Shall we take the act
To the grave? Shall we, more hopeful, set up the grave
In the house? The ravenous grave?

Leave now
The shut gate and the decomposing wall:
The gentle serpent, green in the mulberry bush,
Riots with his tongue through the hush–
Sentinel of the grave who counts us all!

Tate poem courtesy of Poets.org

Change is coming to the US wine industry

Boony Doon Vineyards, known for excellent wines, quirky branding, and for using the screw top closure, will be listing ingredients on their labels starting in 2008. The list will include grapes used in the wine and any additional ingredients used in production.

The 2007 Ca’ del Solo Albariño and 2007 Ca’ del Solo Muscat scheduled for a February 2008 release will feature an ingredients list on the label.

What could be the complaint against listing ingredients on a wine label? There are two that I can figure, one is tradition the other is esthetics.

Just as the move away from cork closures is economically attractive, it challenges the traditional ideals of wine. Between 5% and 10% of wine is lost every year due to bad corks. If you've ever opened a corked bottle, you know what I mean. Screw tops are convenient for the purchaser, and save money for the vintner. As cork becomes more expensive and screw tops make more headway in the marketplace we'll be seeing more and more of them. They are here to stay. "It's only fair to say, however, that using screw tops, even for expensive wines, is not an intrinsically bad idea. To the contrary, many top winemakers laud them." (Washington Post, 10.13.04) The advent of screw tops is a challenge of perception only. Enjoying wines is a millenia old pastime and it does not change readily. The combined perception of "screw top=cheap, low quality" vs. "cork=quality, likely expensive" is slow in changing.

One lady at a tasting of boutique wines in Hawaii several years ago challenged the GM of a winery using screw tops with, 'You're taking the mystique out of wine.' Changing long held traditions and waiting for acceptance in the market place can be challenging, but it is happening.

Wine is all about esthetics, the esthetics of flavor, smells, bottles, labels, pouring, drinking, and all the little pleasures associated with enjoying wine. Perhaps some winemakers and marketers are concerned that adding ingredients to their labels will take the mystique away, will give their wine products more of a mundane or everyday character. They are mistaken. Wine makers have been very creative with labels for quite a long time, and will continue to be. Labels have always been a perfect palate for artists and creative connessieurs. Adding an ingredient list in small type to a label ought to have zero effect on the buyer. If winemakers are adding things that they aren't proud to put on their labels, it is time to change their production processes. The truth of a great wine will always be about what is in the bottle not on it, flavor, smell, the entire experience. In addition, it appears that Bonny Doon is just slightly ahead of coming legislation that will mandate ingredient disclosure on the label.

This move by Bonny Doon is another opportunity for winemakers to increase the public's interest in wine and wine making through disclosure on the label and education in the marketplace. Ingredient lists will add another criteria by which consumers can make wine buying decisions.

Americans' love of wine continues to grow every year, with domestic and foreign wines enjoying excellent sales. I encourage this kind of innovation - including ingredient lists on lables is an excellent idea. Americans love new things, new labels, new brands, new flavors. The wine public loves to experiment – wineries should embrace the idea of providing new experiences to consumers in addition to their foundation brands.

How the Global Warming Cult Devalues Humanity

by Daniel Mallock, BookFolks

The controversy over global warming recently got more traction with the awarding of the Nobel Peace Prize to former vice president Al Gore. This did little however to advance the legitimacy of Mr. Gore’s climate change claims as the very same “Peace Prize” was cynically awarded to Yassir Arafat, a terrorist and killer.

That the Nobel Peace Prize is now therefore little more than a very expensive joke there seems little cause for discussion. Arafat was by no means a man of peace and was in no way interested in peace. The so-called Oslo Accords and the Camp David Peace “Process” both derailed by Arafat were nothing more than a pause in the war against Israel, warfare by other means, a hudnah. Hudnah is nothing more than a pause in jihad, a hunkering down by Islamic forces to acquire more weapons, increase their strength and prepare for the next battle all while pretending to their enemies that peace has been achieved. It’s a false front, a sham peace that leads only to the next battle. In similar ways, the Global Warming cult is a sham “green” movement led by the high priest Al Gore and his agitprop machine. While the parallels suggested above may seem excessive, they are not for the unstated foundation of the cult of Global Warming is the purposeful undermining of the value of humanity in comparison with the earth.

The details of the debate are now widely known with Gorites widely proclaiming the impending doom of the planet due to green house gases, burning of fossil fuels, etc. all the folly of mankind. Many dissenting scientists, often at great risk to their professional futures and reputations, find much to challenge and many reasons to doubt the GW  theories.

There are two important reasons to doubt the veracity of Global Warming and the core tenets of the cult:

• the high priest is a hypocrite having one set of rules for adherents and another for him
• the purported purposes of the cult/movement/pr machine/political campaign/money-making-venture mask an until recently unstated but hinted at foundational purpose and bizarre set of ideas.

In an article posted on USA Today, 12/07/06 Al Gore’s conspicuous consumption of energy and exhorbitant lifestyle was displayed for the world to consume: “Public records reveal that as Gore lectures Americans on excessive consumption, he and his wife Tipper live in two properties: a 10,000-square-foot, 20-room, eight-bathroom home in Nashville, and a 4,000-square-foot home in Arlington, Va. (He also has a third home in Carthage, Tenn.) For someone rallying the planet to pursue a path of extreme personal sacrifice, Gore requires little from himself.”

For folks in Nashville, Tennessee this comes as hardly a surprise. The emperor hasn’t any clothes rather, in this case, has far too many clothes and lots of other “stuff”. The Tennessee Center for Policy Research wrote, “‘We hope the Nobel Peace Prize goes to someone who truly deserves it,’ Johnson said.  ‘Making Al Gore a Nobel Laureate would forever tarnish the Nobel Prize.’” It’s too late for the Nobel Peace Prize – it’s tarnished, trashed, ruined. But it’s not too late for Global Warming cultists and a brow-beaten public to wake up and see the naked emperor!

Even some folks at that bastion of hard-left politics and utopian idealism Harvard University can see the hypocrisy of the loudest and most public of the Global Warming Cult – making the obvious observation that Gore and his powerful Global Warming wealthy elite are complete hypocrites, preaching austerity for the cult followers and ostentation and consumption for the high priests. “Hypocritical enviro-advocates abound these days, constantly reminding us to make sacrifices in the interest of the earth while forgoing few comforts themselves.”

We know that the foundations of Global Warming are built on questionable and shoddy science and unsubstantiated speculation. We know that Global Warming is a cult led by leftist hypocrites. Now, due to a recent article in the Medical Journal of Australia (MJA) we know one of the secret foundation ideas of the Global Warming cult – it is not the products of humanity, its industry and refuse, and consumption of resources that is the great threat to the future of the earth rather it is humanity itself!

A Mr. Barry N. J. Walters (“Clinical Associate Professor of Obstetric Medicine
Department of Women’s and Infants’ Health, University of Western Australia, King Edward Memorial Hospital, Perth, WA.”) in an inoccuously titled letter to the editor of MJA “Personal carbon trading: a potential ‘stealth intervention’ for obesity reduction?” suggests that due to the “…potent source of greenhouse gas emissions for an average of 80 years…” that each Australian baby represents, parents should be assessed a “Baby Levy” in the form of a “carbon tax”. In another era or a more rational intellectual environment this individual could readily be dismissed as a crank, or an hysteric. But he is in fact quite serious. “Every family choosing to have more than a defined number of children (‘Sustainable Population Australia’ suggests a maximum of two) should be charged a carbon tax that would fund the planting of enough trees to offset the carbon cost generated by a new human being”. After demonstrating his strange calculus Mr. Barry recommends a $5000 tax assessment at birth, and an annual tax of $400-800 for the life of the child. The purpose of the annual component of this anti-child/anti-birth tax is for “maintenance of the afforestation project”.

This penalization of parents for having children, and a lifetime tax upon the child for as long as the child lives (who will pay the annual tax upon the death of the parents if not the child him/herself), is the worst kind of moral confusion and science gone utterly haywire and wrong. This bizarre suggestion of excessive taxation and over-involvement by the government of Australia, a democracy, in the institution of the family itself is nothing less than an undermining of the family unit.

Such notions of penalizing parents for giving birth, penalizing children for existing are utterly bizarre and counter human. These are authoritarian ideas masquerading as environmentalism and Global Warming reaction. This proposal is reprehensible and sick as it suggests a greater value to trees, and “nature” than it does to humanity. It diminishes a human child to its “green house gas emissions” and suggests that such emissions are a direct threat to the earth and our global survival. It does not penalize parents for having children because the society cannot support them, as does China (a very controversial policy that requires a post of its own). Mr Walters suggests that human children are a burden to the earth and parents are to be discouraged from having them by disuading them via cruel taxes.

This bizarre proposal publicly made in an Australian medical journal by an apparently respectable medical professional in that country exposes the true dark nature of the Global Warming cult.

Fundamentally, Global Warming hysterics place more value on “our planet” than they do on human beings. For them, humanity is a parasite on “mother earth”, consumers of resources, wasters, polluters. This grotesque uber-care for “the earth” at the expense of humans has more than several ugly antecedents in history.

Today, 12/12/07, Pope Benedict XVI weighed in. He condemned the cultists of Global Warming and rightly identified the core dark ugliness of “the global warming movement”. He said, “Respecting the environment does not mean considering material or animal nature more important than man.”

When we hold other humans of one group of greater inherent value than others, when we hold “the earth” of more value than humans, when we characterize humanity as despoilers of the earth rather than its caretakers and conceive a philosophy and pseudo-religion that purports to protect the planet from a parasytical species (humanity) that is destructive by nature (in their estimation) - we have slid down far on the slippery slope of moral and ethical confusion.

It is our responsibility as a species to protect this planet, to care for it, and to ensure that it is there in good health for future generations. I do not believe that the earth/human relationship is parasytic as the cult of Global Warming suggests. I believe that there are weather cycles and global changes that happen regardless of any action or non-action/involvement” such as Global Warming theories postulate. Any movement constructed upon agitprop, hysteria, and pseudo-science that suggests increasing the tax burden as a measure to punish parents, larger government to enforce the taxes and plant more trees as carbon off-sets, centralized control, and a diminishment of the value of humanity itself is a dangerous and ugly thing.

Obtuseness and Inaction Create a Disaster in Omaha

by Daniel Mallock, BookFolks

Desperately damaged people ought not to be allowed to inflict their desperation and moral emptiness on others. This is exactly what happened Wednesday (12/05/07) in Omaha, Nebraska.

All Americans are horrified, stunned and appalled at this vicious murder of innocents doing their Christmas shopping at a mall. The country unites in grief at the loss to our society and to their families and friends of the 8 innocent victims. We wonder why the broken young man who committed this act of cowardly violence couldn’t simply have killed himself and left everyone else alone? Too many broken empty people apparently have a strong need to hurt others, this makes them exceedingly dangerous to all of us.

The events in April at Virginia Tech, and the mall shootings in Salt Lake City several months later are eerily similar to this most recent horror in Omaha.

One could make political arguments here about the value of an armed populace: anybody with a gun in that mall could have challenged the angry empty killer and perhaps have stopped his murderous rampage. But now is not the time for such discussion – it’s just too soon. Now we wait for the funerals and join with our fellow Americans hurting in Omaha in sorrow and anguish. We always ask questions after these kinds of horrific events: How could this happen? How can someone be so evil, so selfish, so hateful, so angry, so empty? Could this terrible crime have been prevented?

WCBSTV in Ohama in an article on this horror posted today states
“She told the Omaha World-Herald that the night before the shooting, Hawkins and her sons showed her an SKS semiautomatic Russian military rifle – the same type used in the shooting. She said she thought the gun belonged to a member of Hawkins’ family. She said she didn’t think much of it – the gun looked too old to work. ”
The “she” in the story is the mother of a friend with whom the murderer had been living. Tragically, the gun that Hawkins showed her was likely the murder weapon, and the day of the shooting Ms. Maruca-Kovac “went to her job as a nurse at the Nebraska Medical Center, where victims of the shooting soon began to arrive.”

The twisted young man who perpetrated this evil upon the people of Omaha should never have been allowed to be near a weapon. But he was. Mr. and Mrs. Maruca-Kovac must have known that he had been “kicked out” of his parent’s home. They knew that he was a deeply troubled young man. Did they know that he had threatened to kill his step-mother and was sent to a mental institution? They should have known that such a person should not have access to firearms. Why did they not take this weapon, and call the authorities?

Misplaced Sympathy

Mrs. Maruca-Kovac said on the “Early Show”, “I feel so sorry for him, that he was so lost and alone that he had to resort to this.” This is an unfortunate public utterance. I have zero sympathy for the wretched murderer, but a great deal of sympathy for the victims and their families.

Warning Signs and Access to Weapons

Only two weeks ago a former female friend of the killer told KETV news that Hawkins had threatened her and her family. “Mandy said Hawkins had threatened her and her family as recently as two weeks ago. She said one message threatened to shoot her if she didn’t stop bad-mouthing Hawkins.” The assault rifle used in the attack was owned by his stepfather, and apparently stolen from him. This very same rifle was seen in his possession the evening before the murders by his friend’s mom (and host) Mrs. Maruca-Kovac. And yet she neither confiscated the weapon nor contacted the authorities. Shouldn’t the host family have taken some action to separate this clearly confused and bitter young man (with a long criminal history and mental health problems) from this or any weapon?

Obtuseness and Death

In so many of these horrible cases those close to the murderer are unaware of their ownership of, or access to, weapons. This is not the case here. What is the responsibility of a mature person in our society when they know that an unbalanced person (someone who had made violent threats against his own step-mother) owns a weapon or can obtain one readily? Is responsibility negated when the observer is unaware of the true nature of the person involved, or simply chooses not to see it? The killer was living under her roof for a year, how could she not have known?

Mrs. Maruka-Kovac is quoted on KETV’s website as having said yesterday after hearing of the murders, “‘I had a sick feeling when I heard about it,” she said. “I can’t believe he would go this far. He was a good-hearted kid. He was just going through some rough times.’”

The wrongness of this statement is self-evident. Deconstructing it completely unnecessary. Some knew this young man for what he was, and what he was capable of, while others were apparently utterly oblivious. Do those so close yet so apparently obtuse carry any responsibility for this crime?

Heading Toward a Total Break

Mrs. Maruca-Kovac is quoted on YahooNews today describing Hawkins as someone who “helped out all the time”. Was she seeing him for what he was, or what she hoped and wanted him to be? The authorities knew of him due to his felony drug conviction in March of 2005, and a disorderly conduct charge later that same year. He was facing a court appointment later this month on contributing to the delinquency of a minor charge. This is not a person who is “good”, or “kind-hearted”.

Despite Hawkins’ troubled recent history, and his pending court hearing (which she may not have been aware of, we just don’t know yet), she did not confiscate the rifle that she saw in his possession in her own home the evening prior to the attack, nor did she contact the authorities about it. “But Maruca-Kovak saw nothing foreshadowing the horror Hawkins would inflict during his last moments alive. She remembered a gentle young man who loved animals. She regarded him so benignly that when he showed her an SKS semiautomatic rifle the night before his attack, she thought little of it, the Omaha World-Herald reported.”

This was not a gentle young man, obviously. Can we blame people for lack of insight, for a failure of character judgment at a critical moment? Can we judge them for their inability to judge others? Because the murderer was a guest in her home, and a friend of her family, there must be some accountability that society can demand for the fact that she allowed this broken, cowardly, morally empty young murderous man a place in her home and at her table and allowed him to retain a weapon in her home. If nothing had happened in Omaha we would never have heard of Mrs. Maruca-Kovak and her wretched house guest.

As quoted in the local press, and by her own admission, she thought nothing of the rifle in the young man’s possession. Two days ago, she could forget about the rifle, dismiss it from her mind and go about her business, and the poor pathetic coward who supposedly loved animals but clearly hated himself and human beings.

The Obtuse Experts Weigh In – What Can be Done? They say Nothing Can Be Done. I Totally Disagree

Some obtuse so-called experts suggest doing nothing, in fact that there is nothing anybody can do. Sometimes, well, things like this just happen, they suggest.

Observe: “‘This is not something that anybody can reasonably anticipate,’ said Don Greene, a former FBI agent who has written a book on mall security.” This is unacceptable. Doing nothing and simply waiting for the murderer to kill himself or run out of ammunition is a failure of imagination and completely irresponsible. This concept that we are utterly powerless in the face of evil is ridiculous and offensive. A first step is to get armed security personnel into every mall in the United States, and quickly. But the experts have their negative opinions on this suggestion as well.

There are 1,200 enclosed malls in the United States and about 50,000 shopping centers. Although some include police sub-stations, most are patrolled by unarmed private mall and store security guards.

Should these private security guards be armed? “Absolutely not,” said Greene. Greene said if a security officer were to pull a gun on an armed individual in a mall, it could result in ‘the gunfight at the ‘OK corral,’ and then we might have 23 people killed instead of eight.’”

More do-nothing utter nonsense.

The concept of fighting armed criminals and murderers with complete inactivity,  flight/hiding being the only apparent acceptable (to them) response is beyond unacceptable.

We Have Air Marshals – Empower Mall Marshals NOW! 

We have Air Marshals on every American aircraft. The Air Marshal has a concealed weapon, is properly trained, and will use his/her weapon if the aircraft is threatened by armed lunatics. Every time I fly commercial I am heartened to know that there is at least one armed “good guy/gal” on the aircraft.

We need now in this country a program of Mall Marshals. Every mall in the USA should have at least one properly trained security guard armed with a concealed weapon onsite during open hours. Imagine how this nightmare may have turned out if the assailant had known there were at least one armed officer in the mall. Perhaps he wouldn’t have gone there. Perhaps it would not have happened? We can never know. Cowards don’t go places where they know they will likely be confronted. These mass murders are acts of cowards, cowards hate confrontation, and they will not go to places where they may be challenged or readily stopped. We must take action, responsive and preventative. We must make changes now.

We Need a Solution Immediately – Air Marshals to Mall Marshals

We need to create a “Mall Marshal” program as soon as possible so that killers like Hawkins will hesitate (and perhaps reconsider) before they ever consider such a course again. This program is a preventative one, to stop such events before they happen – and to provide some recourse in the event that they do. It is time that we protect our public spaces and ourselves. Attacking an unguarded mall is simply too easy for psychopaths. It seems not a difficult matter to me to empower a trained security officer to carry a concealed weapon to protect the public and employees in these facilities.

Doing nothing in the face of these mass killings is not acceptable. The reality of the solution is simple, but finding the political will in our society to implement it is quite another matter. There is too much at stake to do nothing.

Infamy is an Ugly Fame 

Hawkins the murderer wrote the other day in his pre-murder-spree note, “Now I’ll be famous”. His friend’s mom is now also famous. It’s an ugly kind of fame, infamy. They both have the attention of the country, but for all the wrong reasons.

“Enchanted” – Walt Disney’s Apocalypse Now
-Helicopters and Dragons-

by Daniel Mallock, BookFolks

Sometimes a movie hits just the right notes (espcecially a musical), and is released at just the right time – that it is on its way to massive box office returns by the first day of release. Disney’s “Enchanted” is such a movie. The last time a movie was so perfectly timed, and of such high quality, might have been Francis Ford Coppolla’s “Apocalypse Now”. This is not to say in any way, of course, that “Enchanted” has anything in common with “Apocalypse Now”… wait. Hold on. Now that I think about it – they have so much in common.

Apocalypse Now documents the shattering of a country and the two male leads (Brando and Emelio Estevez’s dad) through the Vietnam War, a complete upheaval that sucks up everything in its path and spits it out again all broken and battered, or just plain dead. Lots of folks end up waking up dead in “Apocalypse Now”. Enchanted is a kind of apocalypse, too- a potentially life shattering event for a cartoon princess in which the heroine could well find herself waking up dead! Great stories are about watching interesting characters go through changes. The more intense and cinematic the change, the better! Few films have come close to the shattering images in Apocalypse Now, for example the image of Marlon Brando making a million dollars a minute for his fairly average performance is hard to forget. Much like the disturbing and artsy images from Coppolla’s violence-fest, Disney’s “Enchanted” has equal number of bright, happy, and sometimes “ewwwww!” inspiring moments to match.

While helicopters thump and whirr overhead and shriek across village’s blowing them to bits in Coppola’s helo homage, Amy Adams twitters and flits and bobs and dances and smiles her way into almost every viewer’s heart in “Enchanted”. Met with almost universal affection from viewers and pointy headed critics alike, There are exceptions, of course. These folks can find help easily. Some folks just haven’t got any joy. One unhappy reviewer even suggests that “…the movie becomes pedantic and predictable, proceeding from fanciful to boring in about ten minutes flat.” So wrong. So sad. So many people scratch their heads and wonder aloud about critics – how they can appear in print when they are so often utterly mistaken or deluded in their grasp of art and the artists who perpetrate it!? The value of critics and criticism is outside the purview of this particular post; needless to say, most critics have little merit. A by-line doesn’t make one insightful. However, even the most clueless of critics can have moments of accuracy. Roger Ebert, for example, so notorious for being so wrong, so often, is favorable to the movie. So, where critics are concerned, fantasies can come true! [For a great illustration of how deeply confused most critics are take a look at their utterly pathetic wrong misinterpretations of "Running With Scissors". A superb and disturbing movie almost completely misunderstood by critics.]

“Apocalypse Now” has Emiolio Estevez’ dad, while “Enchanted” has the by far more talented and lovely Amy Adams. Both films were just right for the times in which they were released, both were box office hits and critically acclaimed (not that that matters). It was the right time in 1979 for Coppolla’s movie. It was right for him-he needed money for his vineyard and winery, and he got it. It was right for the movie-going public-folks were ready for a serious artistic review of the Vietnam War. Apocalypse Now was there when it was needed and wanted. In a sense it provided a service. Now, folks are ready for a more whimsical tour de force. “Enchanted” is perfectly timed, and has just the right mix of charm, humor, drama, action, music, and romance. This is the combination that America needs now. And boy do we need it bad!

Some will say, including me, that “Enchanted” may be the best Disney movie since Julie Andrews’ stole America’s hearts in with her attitude heavy portrayal of Mary Poppins. The country is ready for “Enchanted” – America now has more than enough real apocalyptic activity going on right about now what with the vanquishing of evil, mysogonist, reactionary, cruel and heartless, self-aggrandizing Islamo-Fascists over in Iraq and Afghanistan and on our own shores currently underway. “Enchanted” is a much deserved break from the harsh realities of our lives. And its timing couldn’t be better.

The foundation of good drama, good art is watching folks change. The more change, the more real the change, the better! What could be more traumatic to watch (other than repeated viewings of Rocky Horror Picture Show) than a lovely cartoon princess being thrown into the real-life (at least from her perspective) bizarre, shocking, and dirty world of current day Times Square? Not much! That is exactly the predicament sweet Princess Giselle finds herself in. But she handles this existential change not by being shattered or violently blowing things up, but by handling herself with panache, positivity, music, and meeting new animal friends! Princess Giselle then has to fight Susan Sarandon, of all the horrors the film makers could throw at the young lass, did they have to be so cruel as that? Well, yes. And despite Ms. Sarandon’s lack of “clue”, the ensuing conflict works. Princess Giselle grows into a perfectly decent, always stunning and talented New York gal of the current day. Patrick Dempsey of Grey’s Anatomy is lucky enough to find her wandering in the rain in Times Square and takes her home so that his five year old girl can explain how life really works to him. Male leads in Disney films are often incredibly daft. And over time, we see Dempsey change and grow and learn that his cynical approach to life can be quickly overturned when the right princess is dropped in his life to muck up his very tight schedule, which doesn’t include cleaning his very expensive west side apartment. All the leads are quite good except for Sarandon whose obvious obsession with Frank N. Furter leads her far far astray.

While a critic (not me, of course) could readily blame the director for allowing Ms. Sarandon to so muck up her role, it’s more fun to directly heap criticism upon her. But it’s not all bad with Ms. Sarandon. Taking a much needed break from her seeming endless agitprop silliness Ms. Sarandon may well have put her most memorable role on celluloid with this movie. A small hint regarding her questionable performance can be found here in this interview in which she says that she never was really “into” the princess thing and doesn’t really understand why so many little girls are so intrigued by them. In answering the question “Why do you think the princesses still resonate with a new generation of girls today?” Ms. Sarandon uses the term “I don’t know” four times. Clearly, she is being honest. Looking a cross between Nora Desmond and Rocky Horror’s FrankNFurter Ms. Sarandon is so far over the top that the plummet to the bottom of the fountain for Giselle is but a quick dip compared to the endless millenia it will take for Sarandon’s Princess Narissa to fall her own distance to bottom.

“Apocalypse Now” had helicopters spitting fire from on high, “Enchanted” has a dragon doing the same. Both are scary in some primal way. But as our helicopters were silent during the release of “Apocalypse Now” – they are very much in action again today. Now is the time for “Enchanted” with it’s personal upheavals and battles and profound multiple apocalypses for a battle and war weary public.

This is not an anti-war film by any stretch, it recognizes as so many in our country do not, that there are times when force and evil must be met with an overwhelming force response so that the princess and the kingdom can be preserved. Believing that our enemies will desist in their evil because we request them to do so, or because we hope they will, or because we apologize to them is more a fantasy than anything in “Enchanted”.

    

Tragedy of Cleveland, Ohio Should Not Be Its Obituary – It Should be A Call for Renewal!

by Daniel Mallock, BookFolk

Recent headlines for Cleveland could hardly be worse, “Where Cleveland Went Wrong”, and School Shooting! are two of the most recent. This once proud “rust belt” city on Lake Erie is in eclipse. Long known for lake effect heavy snows and too many gray days per year Cleveland is now the horror that all American cities fear to become. With a completely diminished tax base, a failed economy, and little apparent hope for economic recovery in the near future Cleveland waits to figure out how to repeat the stunning recovery of similar cities like Pittsburgh. After the steel mills close, the inner city rots away, foreclosures suck the life out of low and middle class areas, and folks who can flee flee, where can Cleveland turn for growth and renewal?There are four fascinating aspects of Cleveland life that, if properly fostered, encourage, and leveraged, will be the foundation of its rebirth – diversity of population, superb civic culture and history, excellent health care, Lake Erie waterfront and port.

The excessive and horrible foreclosures currently sweeping the country, based upon shady and misleading mortgages sold to folks wanting a share in the American dream of home ownership – have hit Cleveland hardest. One section of Cleveland in particular now is littered with empty foreclosed homes looted by dirtbags and crooks (see link above).

This is now the time for urban renewal folks to make their plans. Giving up on Cleveland is for fools – Cleveland can now become a shining example of American ingenuity – a place where folks will want to move to and live. It’ll take time, but the effort should be made, and quickly.

Cleveland is blessed with one of the finest orchestra’s in the world, the Cleveland Orchestra. Long recognized as one of the finest symphonies in the world it is a testimony to Cleveland’s importance that so many in the area continue to support this great institution as the city that hosts it continues its long crumble into decay. There is enough money in the area, enough people loyal to the area – living outside the city limits – who continue to support the superb cultural and educational offerings of the city. In addition to the Orchestra, Case Western Reserve University and the Cleveland Museum of Art are available for all to enjoy. Cleveland has a proud history. Ohio was one of the largest contributors of soldiers to the Union during the Civil War. The monument to Civil War veterans in downtown Cleveland is a little known national treasure that all who appreciate American heritage and history should visit. Folks are not leaving the region en masse, only the inner city itself (with folks who can’t leave, staying). Cleveland can be saved. If Cleveland is not revitalized and rehabilitated it will become a sister city Detroit. While the proponents for Cleveland and Detroit may challenge the studies that proclaim the failure of these cities and speak of the irresponsibility and cruelty of suggesting such things – the problems remain. These problems must be resolved, and quickly. Hopefully, for both Cleveland and Detroit the hour is not too late to make a change. And don’t forget, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is in Cleveland, too! Cleveland rocks, remember?

The failure of American steel and the closure of most of Cleveland’s factories, steel mills, and economic infrastructure shattered the economy of the city in the 70s and 80s – but… businesses remain and are growing – albeit in completely different sectors. Now, healthcare and technology are the economic hopes for Cleveland’s future growth and prosperity. Cleveland Clinic is a nationally ranked hospital system serving folks from all across the planet. Imagine – Cleveland as a destination city just for health care! Well, that’s the truth.

The true natural resource of Cleveland and the foundation of its recovery is the waterfront. Some folks in Cleveland are actively working to build up the waterfront, attract investment and bring folks back to Cleveland. The Port Authority is leading the way. Why can’t Cleveland have a bustling port and waterfront anchored with the Rock Hall and the Science Museum just like Boston’s or Baltimore’s or San Francisco’s. Build a destination for folks – a beautiful place with great hotels and parks and condos and apartments and restaurants and homes – and folks will come!

So, how does a city recover after being the hardest hit in the nation by foreclosures with school shootings and serious inner city decay? All the great urban planners, investment gurus, historians, restaurateurs, and government officials – city, regional, and federal – should build a commission now to reclaim Cleveland.

It is a national sin to let our cities fall and die while our pathetic neanderthal pseudo allies grow rich on our consumption of their oil. Our cities should be a shining light, a beacon, to everyone in the world – a testament to our ingenuity, our skills at planning, organization, and creativity. Shame on the government of Cleveland and the federal government for allowing Cleveland to rust and die a slow wretched death.

Bring Cleveland back to life and bring Detroit back to life, too. America is built on hard work and business and caring for our fellow citizens. Let Cleveland be a beacon to those creative folks who want to show their stuff, their organizational and leadership skills, and their patriotism. Rebuild Cleveland. Do it now.

by Daniel Mallock, BookFolk

Jeremy Brett vs. Basil Rathbone:

The Best Sherlock Holmes on Film

vs.

The Truth is Always a Simple Matter Once Explained!

Most fans of Sherlock Holmes will attest that Jeremy Brett is the very embodiment of Sherlock Holmes on any television or movie screen anywhere, ever, period. However, there are those who retain some affection for Basil Rathbone the Sherlock Holmes of previous generations. Both actors are superb, and model the height of acting skill for their generations. But Brett is clearly the superior actor, and the superior Holmes. The game is afoot!

Different Generations, Different Film Technology Demand a Different Holmes

Basil Rathbone’s Holmes fits perfectly into the 1940s era in which his films were made. In the midst of WW2 England and the U.S. needed heroes on the screen. Sherlock Holmes through Rathbone helped the Allies find and destroy Nazi goons within their midsts. A patriotic Brit and hater of fascism Rathbone’s Holmes is the perfect addition to Air Force, Marines, and Navy power. The intellect used as a weapon of war is rarely shown so effectively as in Rathbone’s portrayal of Holmes! One of the major problems with the Rathbone Holmes stories is that 95% of them are originals, that is, they are not adaptations of Conan Doyle’s Holmes stories. Granada Television did every episode as a spectacular and deeply faithful adaptation of the Doyle originals with Jeremy Brett. Most every episode included one or more scenes taken directly from the original drawings by Sydney Paget from the Strand Magazine – that is faithful adaption if ever there was!

• An episode list of Brett’s Holmes can be viewed here.
• You can see some of Paget’s Holmes illustrations for the Strand Magazine, here.

For the purest the Rathbone lack of faithfulness to Doyle is an almost unforgiveable problem. In fact, it’s something of an insoluble conundrum. In addition to the problematic stories themselves whose pacing and supporting actors are often of questionable quality and expertise the characterization of Watson by Sir Nigel Bruce is distracting, aggravating, and overly comedic.

The Problem of the Three Watsons

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The relationship between Holmes and Watson in the Rathbone series is supportive, considerate, gentlemanly, but with Holmes so far eclipsing Watson in intellectual acumen that one has to wonder why the two stay together. In addition, Rathbone’s Holmes is so markedly without those neuroses of character shown by Brett’s portrayal that the viewer must wonder why Rathbone’s Holmes is not married or at least involved with some stunning academic, classical pianist, opera starlet, or some brilliant Irene Adler-type lovely lady. But there is no explanation and no context in which Holmes should be alone, accompanied everywhere by Sir Nigel. Holmes as played by Rathbone should have girlfriends, a wife, some kind of vibrant emotional connection to some favored female(s)!

Brett covers Holmes in self-doubt, utterly driven by intellect. So much so, that he has sacrificed the better parts of his nature, those tender parts that would appeal to a woman and that would allow him to relax and trust enough to be loved by a woman and to love her in return. He has essentially “shut off” those parts of his soul that he believes might distract him from his work – or something has happened. Something dark and painful long ago that Brett occasionally hints at, but never reveals. The depth of Brett’s Holmes is astounding. Brett plays Holmes as a grand knight of deduction who has sacrificed the pleasures of love. As a lover Holmes would be a second-rate detective, and that would simply not do. But there is more to this than all that. Brett is haunted by his sacrifices and his lack of tenderness. This is seen most clearly perhaps in the Adventure of the Abbey Grange. (Pay special attention to the part when the lady attempts to thank Holmes. He does not handle the moment well.)

• You can get a nice plot summary of Abbey Grange right here.

Rathbone’s Watson (Sir Nigel Bruce) plays Watson as a bumbling oafish but utterly dedicated partner and friend exactly the companion that Holmes needs. Brett’s Watson(s) are much more formidable.

Menace, Mania, and Moroseness – Choosing Brett

While Rathbone is not to be faulted for acting in the 40s style, flat and somewhat affected – Brett’s Holmes is the very picture of a highly complex, brilliant, intellectual artiste – the great detective brought to life.

Granada television and PBS is to be complimented for airing such a beautifully written and lovingly adapted series such as the Brett Holmes set. Rarely in recent television history has such a finely made program been aired. The Hollywood writer’s strike of the current hour is little lamented here as nothing of this quality has been seen in so long on the small screen. The complexity and depth of Brett’s Holmes will long be held as the standard for this character. Brett’s early death was a serious loss to every Holmesian. Brett is the Johann Sebastian Bach of the Sherlock Holmes world.

Others have attempted Sherlock Holmes from Ian Richardson’s overly whimsical take to Rupert Everett’s quite passable go, but Brett is the master interpreter. Without a case to work he is difficult, petty, argumentative, morose, bored. His seven percent solution would see him through too many dry spells, but when the game was afoot Holmes’ intellect, brilliance and bravery the finer components of his character always quickly came to the fore.

Basil Rathbone a Fine Holmes – But No Match for Jeremy Brett

From the LoveBoat to Immortality

Having once appeared on the LoveBoat (see this incredible clip on YouTube) Brett rose to the very heights of the acting profession. Still mourned today by those who knew him and appreciated his brilliance as Sherlock Holmes, the same reverence cannot be claimed by Rathbone. Now known to but a few, and those mostly Holmes fans, Rathbone long ago set the stage for the appearance of someone like Brett – to finally bring a permanent record to a living Holmes on screen. Depth of characterization, complex line deliveries, hints of past events and unspoken secrets and pain – Jeremy Brett is an actor’s actor.

Jeremy Brett is the greatest Sherlock Holmes on screen, ever. Long may he solve cases! And never require the needle!