My poems "The Warm Past" and "bn ʾdnbʿl bn ʾdrbʿl" have been accepted by Mythic Delirium. The first takes its name from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elisem's fossil coral earrings and is dedicated to the memory of Ely Kish, who painted the Smithsonian's "Life in the Ancient Seas." The second was a direct result of this Carthaginian stele; the title is a patronymic, naming the father and grandfather of the man who dedicated the stone. The mixed Punic-Roman name intrigued me.
Apparently I watched a lot of movies between my last re-read of Daniel Pinkwater's The Snarkout Boys and the Avocado of Death (1982) and this latest one, because I recognized instantly the Laurel and Hardy short the protagonists come in at the end of—"in which Laurel and Hardy are destroying the guy's house, and the guy is destroying their car"—as Big Business (1929), whichderspatchel and I caught earlier this year on TCM. It starts with Christmas tree sales and escalates from there. I can also now appreciate that this superlatively goofy novel contains some quite decent film criticism: "The thing about Laurel and Hardy movies that you can't get from the chopped-up versions on television is how beautiful they are. Things happen at exactly the moment they have to happen. They don't happen a second too soon or too late. You can even predict what's going to happen—and it does happen—and it surprises you anyway. It doesn't surprise you because it happened, but because it happened so perfectly." Lastly, now that I've verified the existence of Attack of the Mayan Mummy (1964) and Das Dreimäderlhaus (1958), I really think only about five of the films name-checked in the novel are fake and it's possible I think that only because I don't know as much about Mexican B-movies as I should. It's also possible there's some recombinant camouflage going on. To the best of my knowledge there is no Yugoslavian film called Vampires in a Deserted Seaside Hotel at the End of August, but the Belgian Daughters of Darkness (1971) is totally a thing. I have loved this book since seventh grade and I love that it only rewards re-reading, especially if you have been essentially living at an arthouse theater for a year. Highly recommended, especially if you like avocados.
Everything else about today has been really terrible.
elisem's fossil coral earrings and is dedicated to the memory of Ely Kish, who painted the Smithsonian's "Life in the Ancient Seas." The second was a direct result of this Carthaginian stele; the title is a patronymic, naming the father and grandfather of the man who dedicated the stone. The mixed Punic-Roman name intrigued me.Apparently I watched a lot of movies between my last re-read of Daniel Pinkwater's The Snarkout Boys and the Avocado of Death (1982) and this latest one, because I recognized instantly the Laurel and Hardy short the protagonists come in at the end of—"in which Laurel and Hardy are destroying the guy's house, and the guy is destroying their car"—as Big Business (1929), which
derspatchel and I caught earlier this year on TCM. It starts with Christmas tree sales and escalates from there. I can also now appreciate that this superlatively goofy novel contains some quite decent film criticism: "The thing about Laurel and Hardy movies that you can't get from the chopped-up versions on television is how beautiful they are. Things happen at exactly the moment they have to happen. They don't happen a second too soon or too late. You can even predict what's going to happen—and it does happen—and it surprises you anyway. It doesn't surprise you because it happened, but because it happened so perfectly." Lastly, now that I've verified the existence of Attack of the Mayan Mummy (1964) and Das Dreimäderlhaus (1958), I really think only about five of the films name-checked in the novel are fake and it's possible I think that only because I don't know as much about Mexican B-movies as I should. It's also possible there's some recombinant camouflage going on. To the best of my knowledge there is no Yugoslavian film called Vampires in a Deserted Seaside Hotel at the End of August, but the Belgian Daughters of Darkness (1971) is totally a thing. I have loved this book since seventh grade and I love that it only rewards re-reading, especially if you have been essentially living at an arthouse theater for a year. Highly recommended, especially if you like avocados.Everything else about today has been really terrible.
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