Sting and The Hounds of Winter at Norwegian Wood 2012

I had the pleasure of hearing Sting last night at a packed Norwegian Wood. I got hooked on The Police songs very early, but never got to hear the band live. So it was good to finally get to hear Sting. This was his playlist last night:

·         All this time

·         Every little thing she does is magic

·         Englishman in New York

·         Seven days

·         Demolition man

·         I hung my head

·         Driven to tears

·         Fields of gold

·         Message in a bottle

·         Synchronicity

·         Shape of my heart

·         Love is stronger than justice (The munificent seven)

·         The hounds of winter

·         The end of the game

·         Never coming home

·         Desert rose

·         King of pain

·         Every breath you take

·         Next to you

He did a great version of ‘The Hounds of Winter’. My God, what a fantastic song—beautiful haunting lyrics and melody. The background vocals last night were done by a young woman who had an incredible voice—her voice sent chills down my spine. Lovely. I’m including the lyrics to the song here (pure poetry), along with aYouTube video of the song above.

The Hounds Of Winter    by Sting

Mercury falling

I rise from my bed,

Collect my thoughts together

I have to hold my head

It seems that she's gone

And somehow I am pinned by

The Hounds of Winter

Howling in the wind

I walk through the day

My coat around my ears

I look for my companion

I have to dry my tears

It seems that she's gone

Leaving me too soon

I'm as dark as December

I'm as cold as the Man in the Moon

I still see her face

As beautiful as day

It's easy to remember

Remember my love that way

All I hear is that lonesome sound

The Hounds of Winter

They follow me down

I can't make up the fire

The way that she could

I spend all my days

In the search for dry wood

Board all the windows and close the front door

I can't believe she won't be here anymore

I still see her face

As beautiful as day

It's easy to remember

Remember my love that way

All I hear is that lonesome sound

The Hounds of Winter

They follow me down

A season for joy

A season for sorrow

Where she's gone

I will surely, surely follow

She brightened my day

She warmed the coldest night

The Hounds of Winter

They got me in their sights

I still see her face

As beautiful as day

It's easy to remember

Remember my love that way

All I hear is that lonesome sound

The Hounds of Winter

They harry me down

How NOT to win friends and influence people, part 2

I got to thinking about the different behaviors I experience in the space of a day, and about the effects they have on me. I am the recipient of both good and bad behavior. What I know for sure is that bad behavior—mean, sarcastic, insulting, passive-aggressive, psychologically-abusive behavior---has the following effect on me. I seek out specific parts of my brain and heart that will allow me to ignore the person(s) in question. That will allow me to look at them while they are behaving badly and ‘be’ another place in my head and heart—a peaceful, calm, relaxing, spiritual place. One that is far away from the person(s) in question. It works. You just have to know how to go into yourself to find it. And I promise you that it creates exactly the effect you’re hoping for—the person(s) behaving badly get annoyed and go away. It is so important to keep your cool when such person(s) go on the attack. If they cannot reach you, cannot knock you off your center, they go looking for other potential victims to dump on. And that is what they want to do—dump on you, no doubts about that. They are so unhappy inside that they want to share their misery with others. The old saying, ‘misery loves company’, is still alive and well in 2012. It takes many forms, but anyone who has experienced a ‘dumper’ knows exactly what I’m talking about.

But think about what bad behavior creates in a society made up of individuals, some of whom respond to bad behavior like I do. Enough of it, and you end up with people who turn away from leaders, politicians, authority figures—who decide for themselves how they’re going to respond, how they’re going to live each day, what they’re going to let in and what they’re going to shut out. They also decide who they’re going to listen to and who deserves their loyalty.  In other words, they cannot be easily controlled or brainwashed. So in one sense, you could argue that bad behavior creates independent individuals in some cases, at least in the cases of those individuals who have the societal freedom to respond as they wish. I don’t know what it would be like to live in a totalitarian regime, where any untoward response could be met with punishment and/or prison. I can only speculate about what could happen in a free society, like the one I live in. It still surprises me that intelligent people in leadership positions behave badly, that they dump on others (out of insecurity or their own misery?), that they blame others for their shortcomings, and that they cannot offer praise or a gentle spirit instead of criticism and a harassing nature. It’s nice to know that I can remove myself from their misery-loaded situations, instead of responding as they wish, which is to enmesh myself in their soap opera dramas. 

How NOT to win friends and influence people

My apologies to Dale Carnegie who wrote the book How to Win Friends and Influence People, a motivational book that was published in 1936 and which is still immensely popular all these years later. I simply had to comment on some of the leader behaviors that I have been witness to this past month in my workplace, which never cease to amaze me (or others I discuss them with). I’m not the target of these particular behaviors; other colleagues are the unlucky ones for the time being.

How would you like to be at this kind of meeting, one that I recently attended as an observer, where a manager spent most of the time negatively comparing his employees to a new stellar employee? And when these employees attempted to object, as some of them did, they were told that they are mediocre (in Norwegian—‘middelmådige) workers at best, and that mostly what they do is sit on their butts and keep their jobs warm (in Norwegian—‘å ruge på sin stilling’, much like a bird would do sitting on its nest to keep the eggs warm). It’s an interesting development, and it amazes me yet again that leaders in any workplace, in 2012, have not yet understood that insults, sarcasm and passive-aggression don’t win them friends, nor do they motivate the employees who are the targets of this behavior. The targets seem to have decided to mount a counter-offense, which has led to conflict between them and the leader(s) in question. And who knows where it will all end? I am a spectator at present and will likely remain so, unless I get forcibly dragged into the fray. Perhaps all of this is a test to separate the wheat from the chaff, or to get the perceived 'lazy' employees to quit. A management strategy to get rid of dead weight. Who can really know?

I find this type of behavior so unprofessional and childish. I will allow for the following: that leaders can think what they want to think about their employees, for example, that they are lazy and unproductive, but that they should NEVER voice such opinions publicly in a meeting format, in front of these employees’ colleagues, as was the case here. I was witness to what occurred, as were several of my colleagues. None of us liked this behavior. We ended up at a loss for words--blindsided--in other words, taken aback by it, so that it is difficult to mount a response. These are the types of discussions that are best conducted behind closed doors, between the employees in question and their bosses. But this doesn’t happen in my workplace. Rather, everyone should know what the leaders think about the employees in question—a modern form for putting folks in the public stocks and letting them stand on display for all to mock. I really do believe that some leaders think this type of behavior will light fires under the butts of the employees they think are lazy and unmotivated. That treating them negatively will create a positive result. I know that it will not. How do I know this? Because I have had the privilege and responsibility of mentoring a good number of PhD and Master’s students during the past ten years, and motivating them to do a good job NEVER involved insulting them or degrading them publicly. I am happy to report that I have not treated any of them badly. Ever. The result being that they voice their satisfaction with my mentoring, guidance, help and advice. I can attest to the fact that being nice and caring about their development and progress yield results. It also creates self-confidence where there might not have been much at the start point. Helping people to believe in themselves—their talents and gifts—is a gift in and of itself, a gift that creates personal and spiritual growth in the persons who practice this. I think this is common sense, but I'm wondering if perhaps some of these leaders need to find Dale Carnegie's book on their desks come Christmas time. 

Rules for Living, from the Dalai Lama

1. Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk.

2. When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.

3. Follow the three Rs: Respect for self; Respect for others; Responsibility for all your actions.

4. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.

5. Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly.

6. Don’t let a little dispute injure a great friendship.

7. When you realize you’ve made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.

8. Spend some time alone every day.

9. Open your arms to change, but don’t let go of your values.

10. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.

11. Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll be able to enjoy it a second time.

12. A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life.

13. In disagreements with loved ones, deal only with the current situation. Don’t bring up the past.

14. Share your knowledge. It’s a way to achieve immortality.

15. Be gentle with the earth.

16. Once a year, go someplace you’ve never been before.

17. Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other.

18. Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.

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One of my good friends has these rules hung up on a wall in her apartment; she reads them everyday. I think that's a great idea. I've read through them more than once and each time I find something else that strikes me as important when I reflect on them. There is much wisdom in them. 

Saying goodbye to Ray Bradbury: Your books live on.

I have previously written about some of my favorite authors and books, both this year (February 8^th) and last year (August 30^th). I included sci-fi writer Ray Bradbury as one of my favorite authors and The Martian Chronicles, Something Wicked This Way Comes, Fahrenheit 451, Dandelion Wine, and The Illustrated Man as some of my favorite books. I think when I read The Martian Chronicles for the first time, I got hooked. Just plain hooked. Hooked on a genre of writing that drew me in and kept me engrossed for much of my life thus far. I couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen years old when I first read The Martian Chronicles. Even at that age I understood that we might not be alone in the universe. And even though there may not be Martians on Mars, Bradbury’s book was a fascinating entry into a world that has never stopped intriguing me. We wonder about what is out there in space, and we imagine all sorts of alien creatures and humanoids. In The Martian Chronicles, we as humans did not expect to be met by creatures who could read our minds in an effort to make us ‘feel at home’, only to turn on us in the darkness. The Martians we met on Mars looked like us—family and friends from home—and the travelers from earth, who missed home, were easily led down that path.

I wrote a post about The Martian Chronicles and Solaris on June 21^st, 2011. In honor of Ray Bradbury, who passed away on June 5^th at the age of 91, I am including part of this post today, the part that has to do with The Martian Chronicles. Rest in peace, Ray Bradbury and thank you for your wonderful books. For those of you who have never picked up his books, now is the time to do so. 

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(Excerpted from my post The Martian Chronicles and Solaris from June 21^st, 2011):

I have been a fan of science fiction since I was a teenager, probably from the time I first read The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury. I also read Something Wicked This Way Comes, The Illustrated Man and Fahrenheit 451, and enjoyed them all. Bradbury is a thought-provoking and outstanding sci-fi writer (90 years old and still with us), and his books have a haunting quality about them. You don’t forget them easily. I don’t recall all of the stories in The Martian Chronicles in detail, just that there were certain parts that were quite scary in that what was suggested was considerably terrifying. You just knew that something terrible was going to happen to some of the earthlings who made it to Mars, and it did (the third expedition was liquidated by the Martians who posed as dead family members such that the deluded (and lonely) crew ended up just giving in to the delusions). The following passage from the chapter ‘April 2000: The Third Expedition’ is an example of the type of terror Bradbury could instill in his readers: “And wouldn’t it be horrible and terrifying to discover that all of this was part of some great clever plan by the Martians to divide and conquer us, and kill us? Sometime during the night, perhaps my brother here on this bed will change form, melt, shift and become another thing, a terrible thing, a Martian. It would be very simple for him to just turn over in bed and put a knife into my heart……..His hands were shaking under the covers. His body was cold. Suddenly it was not a theory. Suddenly he was very afraid……..Carefully he lifted the covers, rolled them back. He slipped from bed and was walking softly across the room when his brother’s voice said, ‘Where are you going?’…...’For a drink of water’. ‘But you’re not thirsty’. ‘Yes, yes, I am’. ‘No, you’re not’. Captain John Black broke and ran across the room. He screamed. He screamed twice. He never reached the door”.

This was all Bradbury wrote about the actual murder of Captain John Black and the massacres of the crew of the third expedition. You knew that murders were occurring in the rest of the Martian houses who had crew members staying with them because they were the ‘families’ of these crew members, but Bradbury didn’t have to elaborate at all about them, because it was left to our imaginations to figure out what was happening to them all. Superb sci-fi horror in a category all its own.

Ridley Scott's Prometheus

Last night I did something I haven’t done many times before in my life. I attended the pre-premiere of a movie whose release I have been eagerly anticipating—Ridley Scott’s Prometheus. The film’s official release date in Norway is today, June 1^st. But the Colosseum movie theater in Oslo showed the film last night (9pm showing only) to a packed house, which in and of itself was an enjoyable experience. The film was introduced by a young man who apparently works for an American company in Norway involved in the film’s promotion. At one point he asked for a show of hands for how many women were in the audience. I guess because men outnumber women when it comes to liking sci-fi films? Anyway, there were a lot of women in the audience. Never occurred to me before that sci-fi might be a genre dominated by men, since I personally know more women than men who enjoy sci-fi books and films. But never mind—I want to tell you about the film.

The story is somewhat intricate and uneven; the film opens with fantastic footage of what is supposed to be prehistoric earth; the 3D effects give the viewer the experience of actually moving over the planet in a low-flying spaceship. An alien human-like figure stands on the precipice of a huge waterfall, and drinks some kind of strange liquid in a pod. He is alone. Above him a spaceship hovers, apparently the ship that brought him there. After drinking the liquid, his body reacts violently, transforming into some strange-looking creature that falls off the cliff into the water; as he does, his body explodes, releasing the DNA that will be the precursor DNA to our own. Cut to 2089, where a group of scientists (among them Elizabeth Shaw played by Noomi Rapace, and Charlie Holloway played by Logan Marshall-Green) interested in the origins of humanity discover cave paintings on the Isle of Skye in Scotland that resemble cave paintings from other archaeological digs around the world. All of them ‘point’ to the stars; the patterns seem to be an invitation to visit that distant world, which is exactly what these scientists are dreaming about—finding the origins of man. Four years later, they are traveling in space on their way to this world, in a spaceship called Prometheus. They land on this new world, and all hell breaks loose, literally. That’s the point of these films, and also the fun of watching them. You know something bad or evil is lurking in the wings, just waiting for its chance to break free. I will definitely not spoil the film for you by describing what happens; it is well-worth seeing and you will be impressed beyond belief at the special effects and the 3D experience. I felt like I had traveled to that world after being in the theater for two hours. I found myself wishing the movie was longer, the effects were that good. The images of that deserted, barren, dark world will haunt you for hours afterwards. The fact that the plot has a few loopholes, or that there are some illogical occurrences, was not a problem for me, although I know it is for some others who have voiced their criticisms on IMDB. I am more interested in the atmosphere that these kinds of films can create, and Prometheus delivers.  It manages to create the world it set out to create, just like in the Alien films.

Mythological and biblical references are prevalent in this film. What can the story of Prometheus in Greek mythology tell us about the film’s plot? Prometheus was a Titan god who was given the task of creating mankind out of clay. Prometheus ended up in conflict with Zeus, who had given him this task, because he liked his mortal creations very much and wanted the best for them, a feeling that Zeus did not share. Zeus became angry at Prometheus for a number of things—among them that Prometheus had tricked the gods into allowing man to keep the meat from sacrificial offerings to the gods, whereas the gods got only the animal bones. As punishment, Zeus withheld fire from man; Prometheus decided to steal the fire back and deliver it to mankind, which he did. Zeus punished him by chaining him to a stake on a mountaintop where an eagle fed upon his liver, which grew back each day since Prometheus was immortal. In the film, the very idea that the scientists could obtain the knowledge of their origin can be seen as a ‘transgression’ against their divine ‘creators’ (Engineers). At the risk of over-interpreting the meaning of the film, I couldn’t help but think of the story of Adam and Eve. Like Adam and Eve in the garden of Paradise, who ate of the fruit from the tree of knowledge that ended in their being banished from the garden, the scientists are ‘punished’ for trying to seek and attain the knowledge that will place them on the creative level of their creators. The ‘gods’ are jealous; they and they alone wish to hold the keys to (knowledge about) the creation of mankind. The gods of Greek mythology were not all perfect gods—they could be angry, jealous, and vindictive—just like their creations; there were any number of wars in the heavens. The universe was thus both orderly (good) and chaotic (evil). Christian mythology describes how Lucifer the archangel, whose name means ‘light bearer’ (interestingly enough when talking about Prometheus and his bearing of fire to mankind) defied the will of the divine Creator and was banished to hell along with his followers. Lucifer and his followers are the bad angels whose sin was pride and thinking they were better than God. It is clear in the film that the distant world that harbors so much chaos and evil for the space travelers was a repository of ‘life’ guarded by alien humanoids that were tall, strong and violent. Are these the bad angels? One gets the feeling that this dark world was more like hell, where transgressors against the gods, as Prometheus was, would have been banished.

So where then is the world of our creators? Where do they live, since they do not live on this dark barren world? This is the question Elizabeth Shaw has at the end of the film. How come our creators were so unsatisfied with their creations that they relegated them to a hellish world? What was the transgression committed by the original creations? Did they attempt to trick their creators or to steal something of value to them, like Prometheus did with Zeus? Did they try to become the creators? Why did the creators choose earth as the place for their creations? Why did the alien humanoid in the first scene die such a violent death in order that his DNA would be spread in the waters of earth, as a precursor to our own? When did this happen, before or after the settling of the world on which the spaceship Prometheus lands? Why did things go so horribly wrong on this world? Why do the Engineers on this world want to destroy earth as is the plan when the giant spaceship attempts to take off toward the end of the film, and what stopped them up until this point? These remain unanswered questions at the end of the film. Perhaps they will be answered in a sequel, or perhaps not. In any case, the film opens for different questions and interpretations. And in the final analysis, it is perhaps not so surprising that as we (viewers and movie directors alike) age and approach our mortal ends, that the questions of where we come from, how did we get here, and where we (might) end up after death, preoccupy us. We would prefer that our lives had meaning and that it is not the emptiness of the abyss that awaits us. We would prefer heaven to the barren, deserted and dark world that the Prometheus found. 

Graffiti in Oslo (street art in Oslo Norway)

Got a new photo project going--photographing the different graffiti I come across in my wanderings around Oslo. I'll share the photos with you from time to time. Here are some that I took recently. One of them I've posted before. Enjoy!

A summer moment

From the future I remember

Days in my past, etched in memory

Close my eyes halfway, I can see the sunlight

Glittering through the tree’s green leaves

Magician’s haze

In the heat of summer, feeling the warm sun

On my bare arms, loving that feeling.

Wondering if heaven had descended

Sitting there next to you on the bench

You reading your magazine

T-shirt slung over your shoulder

Me watching you and the life around us

No particular cares

Us watching the new magpie parents strut about

Three little ones to care for, wondering if they could fly

In case a cat came slinking by.

I can see the future in the present moment

Remembering this day this exact moment in time

And the past from the present

When I remember back to what I thought life would be

When I was younger

It starts with happiness, that warm melting feeling

When boundaries dissolve

Feeling gratitude, because it could all die away or change

And I am grateful that it hasn’t.

Watching the new generation take the place of the old

Spectator in my life, watching others, watching myself

Everyone gets older

Wondering if you have the same thoughts

But I cannot articulate them to you

You would think that I was feeling melancholy

When the opposite was true. 

copyright Paula M. De Angelis

28 May 2012

The smells of summer

Out biking earlier this evening. Breathing in the smells of late spring/early summer. This is the season of lilacs, my favorite flowers, of freshly-mown green grass, a smell I love, of grilled meat on the barbecue, asphalt roads baking in the heat—the smell of tar. Reminds me of the ocean boardwalk at Rye Beach Playland, also baking in the sun. Love that smell—it always brings me back to childhood, summers, and our annual trip to Playland that was a treat from our parents to us and our friends. Loads of fun. Opened the door to my house, the hallway was filled with the pungent (but not unpleasant) odor that comes from my fig tree, which now has three figs on it. In the living room I smelled the lovely delicate fragrant scent that comes from my mini-orange tree, which has at least six oranges growing on it now and many new white blossoms. The fragrance attracts the bees, who love it when they get the chance to alight on the blossoms; and that is only when they get a chance to come into the house when the windows are wide open as they have been the past few days due to the heat. And then of course my basil plants, with their wonderful smell that always remind me of my aunt’s garden in Tarrytown. When we visited her during the summer, she would make dinner and send us children out into the garden to pick tomatoes and basil leaves for her salad, and also raspberries (for dessert) from the bushes that surrounded her house. I always remember the strong smell of basil from her garden. The smells of summer are peaceful, a kind of aromatherapy for the mind and soul.

Warm weather musings and updates

Summer has finally come to Norway, at least to Oslo and the surrounding area. And it’s not even officially summertime yet according to the calendar. So guess who’s happy? It’s my favorite season, summertime. It brings with it no work or very little work, vacation, sun, warmth, travel, long lazy days, boat trips, bicycle rides, a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables on a daily basis, salads, enjoying a few hours with friends or my husband at outdoor cafes—the list is endless. My plants are happy; it’s just to take one good look at them. Their leaves seem greener and they just seem to be healthier. Just like us, how we respond to the sun. Everyone seems happier, more patient, less aggressive and more open. I wish it could be like that all year long. Summer always seems to be the time when new beginnings blossom, for me at least. More than spring, although you might say that spring is where those new beginnings take root.

I haven’t written too much about work lately, I guess because I’ve moved into a new phase now at my workplace—the ‘wait and see’ phase. For the time being, my work life seems to have evened out a bit. All that means is that I have found a new research group to settle into and so far, so good. It feels good to be a part of something to which I can contribute. I just hope this new group is allowed to grow and flourish. One year ago, the other ‘new group’ that I was a part of was just getting onto its feet and learning to get to know one another. And then the end of 2011 came and that group went ‘poof’ and was no more. Management decided to move the pawns around on the chess board once again, and came up with new suggestions for new constellations. And of course they know best. The uplifting part of these political scenarios is that they happen now in public for all to see, so that it is no longer possible for my friends and colleagues to say that they don’t believe me when I tell them how it is. They’re now experiencing some of this personally and they don’t like the treatment either. I’m a couple of years ahead of them, having graduated from anger to depression to cynicism to healthy skepticism. ‘Trust no one’ as the main characters on the X-Files used to say. In a work-related context, I’d say that’s where I am now. Still like the research work I do, though. I just hate work politics, but they’re part and parcel of the whole arena, in fact of most business arenas.

Mostly, I’ve floated myself back into the world that I love the most after science—the world of the creative arts--literature, movies, art, and music. That world always fills me with hope and the feeling that I am being renewed—new beginnings within myself. I’m reading again, listening to new music, appreciating art where I find it, and going to the movies as often as I manage. Or renting DVDs to catch up on the movies I’ve missed. I just read Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad and enjoyed it; he describes evil behavior in mankind in a way that can chill you to the bone, and he does it in a way that seems so ordinary. I’m currently reading Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout and enjoying it immensely; Olive is a prickly middle-aged woman but her life is so worth reading about—all the different people who cross her path and who interact with her. I recommend it. I got tickets to see Deadmau5 at Oslo Spektrum concert stadium next week as I wrote about in my previous post; in a few weeks I will see Sting at the Norwegian Wood music festival in Frogner Park. I recently went to see the movies Dark Shadows, Hunger Games and Martha Marcy May Marlene, and I got tickets today for the opening night of Prometheus (can’t wait!) next week. I’ve rented The Rum Diary with Johnny Depp, and watched Source Code and Another Earth (another film I wrote about recently). All of them were good films, and all of them inspire me in a way that no other art form can. I’m hooked on movies—always have been and always will be. Some of you may ask where I find the time to do these things—yes, I know and feel the time constraints all the time. The answer is that I am making the time now. Again I ask, if not now, when? Academia can eat up every spare minute of life including evenings and weekends, and I don’t want that. So yes, I am choosing the creative world of the arts any chance I get, as I’ve written about here in this blog many times before. It helps to balance out the administrative, political and other demands of academia. The actual research and experiments though are the creative part of science, when we are actually permitted to pursue them. There is a lot of creativity in the world of science research; the trick is to not get buried by all of the other demands that eat up that creative time.

Deadmau5 next week at Oslo Spektrum

I was swapping through TV channels last night, and settled on MTV Live, which just happened to be showing some choice live sessions from Roskilde 2011. Exactly at the time I watched, Deadmau5 was performing. I have to say that I’ve never seen anything quite like it, but to be truthful, I haven’t been following a lot of the new music for some years now. It got to be too difficult, with all of the 'one popular song' groups that came and went. I haven't heard of Deadmau5 before, but he has been around since 2005. Anyway, this was just out and out wild! Really caught my attention, especially because the main performer--Joel Thomas Zimmerman—wears on his head what he calls a ‘mau5head’, which is some kind of computer-controlled mouse head with large ears. This mouse head appears in many different colors and designs, and the expressions on the face shift and change shape and swirl. A sinister (Mickey) mouse staring out at the audience from the darkness, into the darkness, from some chaotic fractal hell. The visuals were fantastic, and for me at least, it was a rare glimpse into the future, how electronic music will be (probably a hundred times more sophisticated by that time—let’s say forty years from now) in terms of the digital effects, computer-controlled light show, use of strobe lights and anything else that musicians use these days to heighten the effect of their music. These are just a few of the instruments he uses (and that I’ve NEVER heard of—info from Wikipedia): Nord Lead 2x, Moog Little Phatty, Voyager RME, Ableton, Fruity Loops, Allen & Heath Xone 3D, Allen & Heath Xone 4D, Lemur Input Device, Ableton Live, Monome 256, Reaktor, Cubase, Kaossilator, Nuendo, Native Instruments Maschine, Smithson Martin Emulator, and Dave Smith Instruments Prophet '08. And in a case of synchronicity, while I was online reading about him, I saw that he is playing at Oslo Spektrum next Wednesday, May 30^th. So I got tickets. I’m looking forward to seeing him live. I’ll let you know how it was next week.

The indie film 'Another Earth'

I have self-published three books that I am sure would never have seen the light of day had I sent them via an agent to a large publishing house, so that makes me an indie author. Not that I am against traditional forms of publishing, mind you. I just believe in giving underdogs a small chance. I may try the traditional publishing route with my next book, but it’s not finished yet and I may still change my mind. As I’ve written about before, Amazon/CreateSpace has given indie authors like me a chance to get our books out there. I’ll never be a millionaire from the royalties I get from the minor book sales I enjoy, but I’ve learned valuable things about the publishing and marketing worlds, and that by itself is worth gold, because I don’t have to pay a publicist to market my book. This is the true beauty of our modern society—dreams can become realities in the digital age.

But this time around this post is not about my experiences as an indie writer, but rather about an indie movie I rented recently. A nice little gem of a film released in 2011 called Another Earth; it had its premiere at the Sundance Film Festival on 24 January 2011 where it won an award. You can find it listed on IMDB at http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1549572/. It was directed by Mike Cahill, and written by him and Brit Marling, who also has the lead female role of Rhoda in the film. Another Earth is labeled as both a drama and a sci-fi film, and I guess you could say that it is a sci-fi film of sorts. But the science fiction aspect is not paramount; it is the backdrop for the personal drama that plays out in the film. Despite the presence of the ‘other earth’ in the sky—a hauntingly beautiful orb that looks just like our planet—the film is really about what happens to individual lives in the aftermath of personal tragedy. It is about making amends, paying back, trying to forgive, and trying to move on with one’s life. The two main characters, Rhoda and John (played by William Mapother), have a hard time moving on with their lives. Their paths become entwined through a mistake really, or rather a failure on the part of Rhoda, a college-age young woman, to inform John, a middle-aged professor for whom she cleans house, about her role in the car accident that took his wife and child from him. Her inability to tell him about her role in his personal tragedy leads inevitably to another type of failure—the end of a love affair, but which inspires her to try to set things right for him. The film is well-worth seeing. The sci-fi elements of the film serve to keep us wondering about the possibility of second chances on the other earth, and this involves the aspect of whether or not there is synchrony between both planets. Will the other ‘me’ on the other earth have lived the same life as I did on this earth, and so forth. I won’t give away the details or ending of the film, but will say that despite a rather abrupt ending, you won’t be disappointed. The film will make you think, and if you read the message boards about this film on IMDB, you will find that there are others who are puzzling about the very same things. The mark of a good film—it gets people talking, discussing and trading ideas and possible scenarios.

I have no idea how much it costs to make films, nor do I have any idea of what it cost to make Another Earth. According to IMDB, it grossed $77,740 in the USA on its opening weekend (24 July 2011); it opened on four screens. As of 2 October 2011, it had grossed $1,316,074 in the USA. I rented the DVD here in Oslo just last weekend; I cannot remember that it opened in the theaters here, although according to IMDB it opened here in Norway in November 2011. No matter. I’ve seen it on DVD. It will be interesting to see what returns will come from the foreign market, especially from DVD rentals/sales. The American earnings are not a lot of money really, compared to what some of the commercial blockbusters rake in. But I’m betting that Mike Cahill and Brit Marling are not complaining. I doubt it cost them that much money to make the film. So now they may even have some funds to write and direct a new film. It will be interesting to follow them further; I hope they make more films like Another Earth. 

Dark Shadows and 'marginal weirdness'

I have been eagerly awaiting the opening of Tim Burton’s new film, Dark Shadows; it opened here in Norway this past Friday, May 11th. So I was online a few days before and ordered a ticket so that I was assured a seat in the theater. I needn’t have worried; the theater was not full, and I doubt it will be for any of the showings. Not because the film isn’t worth seeing, it is, but mostly because it will have limited appeal given its subject matter in a cinema world where vampires have been done to death. I need think only of the Twilight films and of True Blood, both of which I don’t really watch, although I have seen one of the Twilight films and a few of the True Blood episodes. They don’t appeal to me as much as the original Dark Shadows TV series or the two Dark Shadows films from the 1970s (House of Dark Shadows and Night of Dark Shadows) based on the TV series. The original Dark Shadows series and even the subsequent films managed something none of the other vampire films or series has managed as well, with the possible exception of Francis Ford Coppola’s incredible wonderful film version of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. And that is to take themselves seriously, despite that the subject matter was nothing more than pure fantasy. They wove the supernatural fantasies of vampires, ghosts, witches, werewolves and other creatures into a soap opera storyline filled with romance, love, sex, deceit, treachery, normal life, family life and honor, wealthy families, and tragic lives. They managed to be serious and campy simultaneously. The Dark Shadows TV series was talky, like a good soap opera should be. It kept its viewers hanging literally onto each word a character uttered. Those words were important to the storyline, driving it forward, and since the series ran from Monday to Friday, viewers were guaranteed a treasure trove of conversations, arguments, conflicts, ultimatums, discussions and more conversations. In between all of these, something supernatural could occur—there might be vampire or witch activity, or ghosts that wandered about the Collinwood mansion or estate, which was often shrouded in darkness or fog. It seemed to be always evening on Dark Shadows; and like the individual characters, I was always relieved when they got indoors, into the foyer and then into the main drawing room—a safe haven for the most part, because that was where normal family life happened, where ghosts and vampires and witches were kept at bay at least when the individual family members met there. Of course the other parts of the house were not as ‘safe’; I need only think of the different rooms inhabited by ghosts, or rooms that were portals into parallel times. I think those are the parts of Tim Burton’s film that I liked the most—when the Collins family sat down to dinner, with the matriarch of the family, Elizabeth Collins Stoddard (Michele Pfeiffer) sitting at the head of the table, in complete control of her family. All she had to do was open her mouth and tell someone to be quiet, and he or she toed the line. At these times during the film, there was conversation, a sense of family, a sense of why these people stayed together and lived together in the house. Viewers learned about the history of the Collins family and how they made their living. There was character development and storyline progression. Much of this took place during the first half of the film. And then came the second half of the film, which took off into another realm completely—the absurd really, with Alice Cooper visiting the mansion as entertainment for one of the family’s famous ‘happenings’, or Angelique (played by Eva Green) ranting and raving about being scorned and how she would make Barnabas (Johnny Depp) and the family pay. She did a good job, but I would have preferred less emphasis on her and more on Barnabas and Victoria/Josette (played by Bella Heathcote), on Carolyn (played by Chloë Grace Moretz), or even on David (played by Gulliver McGrath). The film ends up being rather schizophrenic; I preferred the first half—the return of Barnabas, his entrance into and confrontation with the 20^th century, his meeting with his old family, his having to live and act as a vampire—all those things. The second half of the movie toyed with the first half. I would have preferred otherwise. But I am not sorry I saw the film. Why? Because after I got home, I went online and found some of the old Dark Shadows TV episodes on YouTube, and watched a few. And then I went onto Amazon and ordered the entire DVD collection of the original TV series (131 DVDs spanning 470 hours). I’ve decided that I will come home from work each day and watch one episode, just as I ran home from school in the 1970s to watch an episode on TV. I am looking forward to the experience of reliving the original series.

I’ve been following the reviews of Burton’s film to this point. The New York Times gave it a good review and even put it on its Critics’ Pick list: http://movies.nytimes.com/2012/05/11/movies/johnny-depp-stars-in-tim-burtons-dark-shadows.html. IMDB has a list of the different reviews so far: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1077368/externalreviews

But the review that resonated most with me was the one on Salon: http://www.salon.com/2012/05/10/johnny_depps_delirious_dark_shadows/. Why? The following excerpt from this review will explain it well: 

“Barnabas Collins predates not just “Twilight” and “True Blood,” but also Anne Rice’s “Interview With the Vampire” and the entire rise of the Goth sensibility. In the 1970s, vampires were something that only marginal weirdos who went to science-fiction bookstores and watched Hammer films like “Dracula: Prince of Darkness” knew about. People like the teenage Tim Burton, in other words”.

Well, marginal weirdo could describe me too. I may not have gone to sci-fi bookstores when I was a teenager (I’ve done so in my twenties and loved all the ones I’ve been in), but I did watch the many Christopher Lee vampire films and I even dragged my poor sister to them to keep me company. Heck, I dragged her to a lot of different horror films from that time. Needless to say, she does not have the same fond memories I have of time well-spent in dark movie theaters watching horror films. Of course, now that I think of it, she did accompany me, when she could have said no. Sometimes we were accompanied by a friend of hers, who was a marginal weirdo like myself. He liked those kinds of films, and was even the type to build models of Frankenstein and Dracula that glowed in the dark. I don’t know what happened to him after high school; I can only wonder if he too has seen Burton’s film. I would love to hear his take on the film.

'Until Tomorrow' by Gail Ann Dorsey

I have fallen in love with a song--this song. Pure poetry set to music. It's beautiful, both the music and the lyrics. It is a song from the soundtrack to the movie Phoenix, itself a very good and very underrated little movie, just like this song. I tried finding the lyrics online and couldn't, so I listened carefully to the song and wrote them down. I believe Gail Ann Dorsey wrote this song and sang it. If so, she is as good a songwriter as she is singer and musician. Here are the lyrics to 'Until Tomorrow'. Enjoy........


These are the pieces
Of all that I was
My troubles will never define me
Overcoming them does.

If I try to stand up
Would you hold me down?
The choices I made
Were all my own
All my own.

(chorus)

I have fallen in too deep
Miles to go, before I sleep
Before I sleep.
Give me peace
I am lost
Give me wings, to rise above
To rise above.

If I ask forgiveness
Would you give me that now?
If I wanted to hold you
Would you show me how?

No need for reasons
No time for sorrow
Each day is a new day
And lasts only until tomorrow.

(chorus)

'A story is told as much by silence as by speech'

I saw the recent film ’Martha Marcy May Marlene’ last night, and was reminded of this quote by Susan Griffin, 'A story is told as much by silence as by speech'. My first response—yikes, what a movie. Creepy. Right from the start—an atmosphere of tension, dread, and foreboding. An atmosphere of intensity and tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Probably one of the most intense films I’ve seen, definitely not for the weak of heart. And I mean it. I found myself having to breathe, because I kept holding my breath for much of the movie. The film is not overtly violent from the physical standpoint except for one scene where you can see the violence coming a mile away—the person happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, unfortunately. The other violent scene involves cats, but you don’t see the result of the violence. That scene also contains the implication of violence toward a human being, and that by itself is nerve-wracking. Even though it doesn’t occur, you know it’s likely to in the future. From the psychological perspective however, the film is a continual assault on your nerves and psyche. It is the story of a young woman who manages to leave her ‘family’, a collective of men and women who live together on a farm and sleep together at random. The family has cult overtones, and not surprisingly, once you get a glimpse of its leader, Patrick, you cannot help but think of Charles Manson and his family. What the film gives you is an insight into how such families function, and even how they came to be. Besides Martha’s story, there is one scene where one of the male family members drives home with a new female ‘recruit’ in his black SUV. It made me think of the film Silence of the Lambs, how the serial killer Buffalo Bill managed to lure women into his van and kidnap them. The promise of love, family and acceptance is the lure in this film—the family members are young men and women who have come from presumably dysfunctional families. But you never really know for sure, in the same way as you never find out much about Patrick’s earlier life. I kept remembering back to my own youth, and how the Moonies used to come onto my college campus to try and recruit us to join them. I remember one young woman who nearly succumbed to their propaganda and how I fought to keep her from joining them. She didn’t, luckily. But it’s possible to get fooled in other ways, not necessarily by a cult--but by a man who says he loves you, or a woman who says she is your friend, that you can trust her. We want to hear those things. ’Martha Marcy May Marlene' is a scary film, and more of a horror film than any horror film you’re likely to see. Because it involves real people, who abuse one another in the name of ‘love’, and who have lost all semblance of what it means to be living breathing emoting human beings. They have turned into automatons who obey their leader, who mostly does not punish them with physical violence except in one respect (the ritual for the new women who become a part of the family is that they ‘sleep’ with Patrick, but the reality is that he rapes them. This is all presented to the new recruits as a cleansing and a special night that they will never forget). Patrick manages to be a truly menacing presence in their lives. You know that he is capable of physical violence if triggered, and you’d rather not trigger him (psychological abuse).

Martha is mostly silent. She says very little, talks very little, offers few explanations for why she ‘disappeared’ off the face of the earth to live with her ‘boyfriend’ on a farm in the Catskills in New York State. She is mostly monosyllabic in her responses, and you know it is because she cannot begin to verbalize what she has been through. She is mostly in shock, and is trying to come to terms with what happened to her in the setting of her sister Lucy’s summer home on a lake in Connecticut. Lucy’s husband Ted has little patience with her, and the tension between Martha and Lucy and Martha and Ted is also nerve-wracking. You know something bad is bound to happen. I was glad to see that the director did not take the trite route of having Ted seduce Martha. There have been too many of those sorts of films and they most often don’t strike me as realistic. Lucy tries all sorts of ways to get Martha to open up about what happened to her and how she spent the last two years; she is overprotective and a bit controlling, but has a good heart and wants her sister to ‘get better’. Martha remains quiet and robotic. Her silence makes her powerful, even though she is not seeking that power. The natural silence of the rural settings in the film (the farm and the lake house in the woods) also lends to the tension and foreboding. Martha’s silence gives her a kind of (unwished for) control over her surroundings, but you know that she cannot control her former family. Patrick’s family is the wild card in her life—a menacing presence at all times, one that invades her dreams and her waking hours. Lucy and Ted merely dance around her, trying to integrate her into their lives as best they can. They fail. When they finally realize that she needs professional help, it really is too late. Without giving away the ending of the film, which I found rather abrupt, I can tell you that this is not a film with a happy ending, as ambiguous as it was. Elizabeth Olsen did a great job as Martha, ditto John Hawkes as Patrick, and Sarah Paulson and Hugh Dancy as Lucy and Ted, respectively. The movie's writer and director Sean Durkin has made an unsettling and uncomfortable film, one that you will not quickly forget.