Made by our friend Moshe Feder in New York.
Ulrika and Hal on the Subway, 2014
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Monthly Archives: February 2023
The Redwood Cathedral and the Universe
“When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe.” — John Muir
I have long misquoted this (I’m pretty sure I first read it in Steven Minkin’s otherwise fantastic novel, …A No Doubt Mad Idea), but according to the Sierra Club I’m not the only one. So, now I have the authentic quote to go by.
I’ve used it for years to describe how my mind works, and why I digress as much as I do. The digressions aren’t intentional, it’s just that picking at things leads me to those hitches.
And while I’m on the topic, listen to this:
YAMAD
Oh, boy, is this Lexicon.
Yet Another Movie About Dorks. The principle lurking behind YAMAD is, no matter how stupid, or clutzy, or socially inept you may feel, here’s a movie (or TV series, these days) about people stupider, less graceful, etc., so a broad audience can look down on them.
Origin: There we were, dear reader, at one of our weekly movies (we cut the cord before a whole lot of people) in 1998. We were being subjected to a trailer for A Night at the Roxbury for the 35th time. It was obvious this thing was incredibly stupid. It was obvious it was going to flop. But still, some studio exec had greenlit spending $17M of budget to make and market this steaming turd.
Why? Who did they expect to show up?
Possibly fans of Will Farrell, the Godfather of YAMAD. Chris Kattan, the co-star, never really showed up too much after this. (I mean, Sharknado 5?)
No, this is a movie of consolation. No matter how bad your life is, here are some clowns who are even worse. Dumb and Dumber is YAMAD. Wayne’s World. Anchorman. Kevin Smith is the Orson Welles of YAMAD — his characters are dumb on the surface, but there’s more there than you think.
Kardashians is YAMAD plus money. Most descendants of Candid Camera (think Ridiculousness on MTV; or nearly all of MTV, these days) are YAMAD plus voyeurism.
No big summation. “I alone escaped to tell thee.”
“Not Perfect”
A song by Tim Minchin. A song about scale.
Thing is, when he sings,
This is my brain
And I live in it.
It’s made of love,
And bad song lyrics…
It’s hard for me not to think of this MRI image of, yes, my brain from October, 2011:
It’s not perfect (lord knows)… but it’s mine.
Place Maubert at Night
Made by leaning out our top-story mansard window. The middle of the 5e arrondissement in Paris, looking northwest up the Boulevard Saint-Germain. The thing about making black and white photos in Paris is, so many older buildings are still extant your image can be compared to classic images from the past.
Headers
Just in case it’s not obvious, all the header images are either by me, or of me. The woman shown across multiple headers is my beautiful, smart, and forbearing wife Ulrika (who also made many of the images of me).
Lincolnshire Poacher
At a pub called The Lincolnshire Poacher, in Nottingham, back in 2016.
