Caught the theatrical revival of The Man Who Fell to Earth last night.
God bless the 1970s.
A question remains for me, though: whose stillsuits came first, Walter Tevis's or Frank Herbert's? The novel The Man Who Fell to Earth was published and Dune began its Analog serialization in the same year, 1963. I can't possibly be the first person to notice that Newton and his family on the home planet are wearing outfits that are clearly functionally stillsuits. Has there been any conflict, from mere fandom drama to outright litigation, about this? (I'm curious, but not so interested to do more than to try some tricky googling to see what turns up.) I haven't read the Tevis novel, so I don't know if he names the clothing or just describes it and lets it go. I guess I'll put it on my mental list of books to pick up if I ever see it cheap or free.
27 July 2011
26 July 2011
Self-medicating, self-destructing
Drugs are rough.
I'm more affected by Amy Winehouse's death than I probably should be. I tend not to be bothered by celebrity deaths -- I don't dig mourning someone you never knew personally, even if their art affected you deeply, though I do dig marking the passing of the life of a performer or creator who gave back to the world, like Paul Newman, or whose work formed the development of the medium itself, like Lillian Gish. When a young or mid-career artist self-destructs with drugs (Rainer Werner Fassbinder), alcohol (Margaux Hemingway), food (John Candy), or sex (Eazy-E), it's a shame for art, and it's a tragedy for the families; but it's as much of a concern to me as any one of the other 6,675 complete strangers who die every day in the U.S. (PDF).
It's not a "27 Club" thing, though I confess that was the immediate idea that sprang to mind. On the other hand, the last time we had one (Kurt Cobain in 1994), I was in a very different place in my life and didn't know a lot of people with extreme problems outside of my own family drama. Also, I was closer in age to the celebrity deceased. In 2011, I'm raising my own child, a musical, artistic daughter who's probably a candidate for a performing arts high school. And I'm the veteran of a relationship with an alcoholic who, when I quit the relationship, was clearly on his way to death by drink (Billie Holiday, unless he lasts as long as Richard Burton) or drunk driving (Ryan Dunn).
Coincidentally to Winehouse's death, I learned that an old internet acquaintance is in the hospital, in a coma, suffering from end-stage liver disease after a couple of decades of alcohol use and attempts at rehab that didn't take. The acquaintance is about my age, maybe only a little bit older. So what's striking me is that I'm at the age when the self-medicating, self-destructive members of my cohort are starting to defeat their bodies' best efforts to keep them alive despite all their drugging, alcohol-soaking, gluttony, and ill-considered sex. Yes, we lost a few people here and there unusually early -- a bicycling accident, muscular dystrophy, a suicide following chronic pain -- but now we're entering the years when long-term, intense poor treatment of our bodies will start to take its toll. Not the buckets of drugs and stress, likely paired with mental illness, that take younger people who burn out at around age 27, but fewer drugs, stress, and illness, over a little bit longer.
I should have titled this post, Member of Generation X Approaches 40; Film at 11.
I'm more affected by Amy Winehouse's death than I probably should be. I tend not to be bothered by celebrity deaths -- I don't dig mourning someone you never knew personally, even if their art affected you deeply, though I do dig marking the passing of the life of a performer or creator who gave back to the world, like Paul Newman, or whose work formed the development of the medium itself, like Lillian Gish. When a young or mid-career artist self-destructs with drugs (Rainer Werner Fassbinder), alcohol (Margaux Hemingway), food (John Candy), or sex (Eazy-E), it's a shame for art, and it's a tragedy for the families; but it's as much of a concern to me as any one of the other 6,675 complete strangers who die every day in the U.S. (PDF).
It's not a "27 Club" thing, though I confess that was the immediate idea that sprang to mind. On the other hand, the last time we had one (Kurt Cobain in 1994), I was in a very different place in my life and didn't know a lot of people with extreme problems outside of my own family drama. Also, I was closer in age to the celebrity deceased. In 2011, I'm raising my own child, a musical, artistic daughter who's probably a candidate for a performing arts high school. And I'm the veteran of a relationship with an alcoholic who, when I quit the relationship, was clearly on his way to death by drink (Billie Holiday, unless he lasts as long as Richard Burton) or drunk driving (Ryan Dunn).
Coincidentally to Winehouse's death, I learned that an old internet acquaintance is in the hospital, in a coma, suffering from end-stage liver disease after a couple of decades of alcohol use and attempts at rehab that didn't take. The acquaintance is about my age, maybe only a little bit older. So what's striking me is that I'm at the age when the self-medicating, self-destructive members of my cohort are starting to defeat their bodies' best efforts to keep them alive despite all their drugging, alcohol-soaking, gluttony, and ill-considered sex. Yes, we lost a few people here and there unusually early -- a bicycling accident, muscular dystrophy, a suicide following chronic pain -- but now we're entering the years when long-term, intense poor treatment of our bodies will start to take its toll. Not the buckets of drugs and stress, likely paired with mental illness, that take younger people who burn out at around age 27, but fewer drugs, stress, and illness, over a little bit longer.
I should have titled this post, Member of Generation X Approaches 40; Film at 11.
The coming global economic collapse
Busy lately with a personnel shake-up at my law firm. Took a couple of days off to stay away from the office and have spent the past few weekends hanging with friends and family.
I'd complain about the coming global economic collapse, but the horse I have in that race is inconsequential, to mis-use a metaphor. What I mean to say is that my assets and my stock market holdings are so small that a crash can't really hurt me. Between now and Monday I'll run up my credit cards turning my home into a bunker stocked with 6 or 8 months' worth of food and other supplies, and I guess I'll be set.
Could be worse. I could be sitting for a bar exam right now.
I'd complain about the coming global economic collapse, but the horse I have in that race is inconsequential, to mis-use a metaphor. What I mean to say is that my assets and my stock market holdings are so small that a crash can't really hurt me. Between now and Monday I'll run up my credit cards turning my home into a bunker stocked with 6 or 8 months' worth of food and other supplies, and I guess I'll be set.
Could be worse. I could be sitting for a bar exam right now.
12 July 2011
Attack of the summer canvassers
Way too many progressive-cause canvassers on Walnut Street in Center City lately. I encountered no fewer than 3 pairs between work and home yesterday. Bless their hearts, they can't possibly be meeting their quotas and I know they're not paid much. But though I hate to say it I sure do wish they'd move to another street.
05 July 2011
Philadelphia: home of the 5th of July hangover
Slogging through a tedious to-do list today. Not helped by the transit situation last night after the Art Museum fireworks. I get that holidays are holidays, and transit shouldn't run a weekday, business rush-hour schedule on a holiday; but I sure do wish SEPTA had put a few more buses on the neighborhood trunk lines last night. The fireworks wrapped up shortly after 11:00, but we didn't roll home until after midnight.
My dentist this morning asked, "Why do we even live in the city?" Of course, she had pointy, scrapy things jammed into my mouth at the time, so I couldn't answer. And a huge part of the issue is that SEPTA's governance is based on a Senate-like system, not like a House of Representatives -- that is, Philadelphia and the surrounding counties of Southeastern Pennsylvania are equally represented on SEPTA's board, one representative per county, even though more Philadelphians than residents of the other counties actually ride SEPTA any given day. End result is that Philadelphia gets short shrift sometimes when it comes to SEPTA improvements or scheduling considerations.
But I live in the city so that I can enjoy 4th of July stuff in the city where they have the country's best party for it, and I can go see a movie or music on very, very short notice, and I can run to the grocery store without having to drive, and I can visit world-class museums and other attractions without having to get a hotel room. The local taxes are formidable, but I like having my trash and recycling picked up and street plowed for "free," and I always tell my pals in the 'burbs to do the math: their taxes are certainly lower, but their cost of living is higher in other ways.
My dentist this morning asked, "Why do we even live in the city?" Of course, she had pointy, scrapy things jammed into my mouth at the time, so I couldn't answer. And a huge part of the issue is that SEPTA's governance is based on a Senate-like system, not like a House of Representatives -- that is, Philadelphia and the surrounding counties of Southeastern Pennsylvania are equally represented on SEPTA's board, one representative per county, even though more Philadelphians than residents of the other counties actually ride SEPTA any given day. End result is that Philadelphia gets short shrift sometimes when it comes to SEPTA improvements or scheduling considerations.
But I live in the city so that I can enjoy 4th of July stuff in the city where they have the country's best party for it, and I can go see a movie or music on very, very short notice, and I can run to the grocery store without having to drive, and I can visit world-class museums and other attractions without having to get a hotel room. The local taxes are formidable, but I like having my trash and recycling picked up and street plowed for "free," and I always tell my pals in the 'burbs to do the math: their taxes are certainly lower, but their cost of living is higher in other ways.
Pennsylvania continuing legal education math
Glomarization's CLE Compliance as of 5 July 2011:
Annual Requirement: 11 Substantive, 1 Ethics
Credits Completed: 6 Substantive, 4 Ethics
Credits Required by December 31, 2011: 2 Substantive, 0 Ethics
The math isn't as goofy as it appears. Any ethics credits over the minimum are applied toward the substantive requirement. So, 4 - 1 = 3; 3 + 6 = 9; and 11 - 9 = 2.
Happy to be in the end-of-year compliance group!
Also, I think I have an outstanding CLE that hasn't yet been applied. I may be totally in the clear and can spend the next 6 months partying instead of fretting about CLE.
Annual Requirement: 11 Substantive, 1 Ethics
Credits Completed: 6 Substantive, 4 Ethics
Credits Required by December 31, 2011: 2 Substantive, 0 Ethics
The math isn't as goofy as it appears. Any ethics credits over the minimum are applied toward the substantive requirement. So, 4 - 1 = 3; 3 + 6 = 9; and 11 - 9 = 2.
Happy to be in the end-of-year compliance group!
Also, I think I have an outstanding CLE that hasn't yet been applied. I may be totally in the clear and can spend the next 6 months partying instead of fretting about CLE.
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