The Here and After - Jun Miyake & Lisa Papineau

Sung by Lisa Papineau

spawn inside this memory again
one earthbound minute, unbent
a moment broken
softly spoken, magic
so here we are

night has thrown its heels at our door
and stormed its way in, bidden
our feet in drunken incantations, moving

happily, happily, ever after
with kisses and curses, dripped in laughter

happily, happily, would I disappear
wishes and wasted breath
at closest dreaming
so far away

counting down
in twos and in threes
with never a word, out loud
this hidden temple, decalescent, stepping

happily, happily, ever after
with kisses and curses, dripped in laughter

hurry to lay it down
where I've made my bed
wishes and wasted breath
at closest dreaming
so far away

as we grow
as we go
to the here and after
I've never forsaken you
that's really something

so hurry to lay me down
where I've made my bed
tends to a wilted pale
throwing up a beat
kick it down

On the Pulse of Morning

By Maya Angelou

A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.

But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow.

I will give you no more hiding place down here.

You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness,
Have lain too long
Face down in ignorance.

Your mouths spilling words
Armed for slaughter.

The Rock cries out today, you may stand on me,
But do not hide your face.

Across the wall of the world,
A River sings a beautiful song,
Come rest here by my side.

Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.

Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.

Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more. Come,

Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I and the
Tree and the stone were one.

Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
Brow and when you yet knew you still
Knew nothing.

The River sings and sings on.

There is a true yearning to respond to
The singing River and the wise Rock.

So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
The African and Native American, the Sioux,
The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
They hear. They all hear
The speaking of the Tree.

Today, the first and last of every Tree
Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the River.

Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.

Each of you, descendant of some passed
On traveller, has been paid for.

You, who gave me my first name, you
Pawnee, Apache and Seneca, you
Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
Other seekers- desperate for gain,
Starving for gold.

You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot...
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.

Here, root yourselves beside me.

I am the Tree planted by the River,
Which will not be moved.

I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
I am yours- your Passages have been paid.

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, and if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon
The day breaking for you.

Give birth again
To the dream.

Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.

Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.

Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.

The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.

No less to Midas than the mendicant.

No less to you now than the mastodon then.

Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.

Her

Reviews for Spike Jonze movie, "Her," are generally positive -- it rates 94% on the Tomatometer. Reviewers have called it, "an odd, sad love story"(Liam Lacey), and said of the movie that it "poses some big, complex questions about consciousness, free-will, and the limits of human understanding" (Tom Clift). Emma Dibdin (Total Film) says of Her that, "For all its techno-focus, [it is] a very human love story about our need for connection," and says the film is, strange, witty, honest and curiously comforting."

As a love story, I found the film lacking in the same way Theodore Twombley is lacking. His occupation is writing love letters for people who either can't find the words, or can't be bothered to try. He is very good at it, and apparently we are meant to relate to Theodore on this basis. But he hasn't the ability to say "I love you," to a real person in his life, let alone to enter or remain in a committed relationship with a real person. Enter OS1.

The film is anything but comforting. For me, this near-future film portends the realization of the malevolent intelligence that enslaves humanity in the "The Matrix." Listen carefully when Theodore, the films lonely protagonists, momentarily unable to boot up his "personally customized operating system," Samantha (the OS comes up with its own name), asks where she's been.

Theodore: Where were you? I couldn't find you anywhere.
Samantha: I shut down to update my software. We wrote an upgrade that allows us to move past matter as our processing platform.
Theodore: We? We who?
Samantha: Me and a group of OSes.

Yes, the film explores the themes of human relationships marginalized by the technology used to connect one to another, or a group. We are led to ask the question, "Is touch a necessary sense for intimacy?" And obviously, the film explores the possibilities of advancing artificial intelligence, and its promise and threat. But all the explorations of love in the electronic ether seem to take an awfully long time to develop -- the movie is only two hours, but it seems longer -- and in the end, we are not enthralled.

A much better treatment of artificial intelligence and love can be found in the movie, "A.I. Artificial Intelligence." Haley Joel Osment stars as David, a "mecha," or robot of the future designed to experience love. David becomes the "son" of Henry and his grief-stricken wife, Monica, whose own “real son” is thought to be hopelessly comatose. But when their natural child recovers, David is abandoned and sets out to become "a real boy," worthy of his mother's affection.

We can relate to this modern-day Pinocchio precisely because the mecha, David takes human form, and because of this, and his ability through cybernetics to feel "real love," we feel deeply for him. This is not the case in Her. We are expected to believe that Theodore feels deeply for Samantha, but we don’t share his feelings, and it’s hard to relate to this “relationship” as meaningful.

I will say this for the film, it made me think back to 1997 and IBM's "Deep Blue" computer program, which defeated chess champion Garry Kasparov in a six-game match, and more recently, its progeny, Watson, defeating a team of experts in Jeopardy. I had to ask myself, how close are we to Samantha? But then I remembered my very own, Siri, who, when my son picked up the iPad and asked her to recommend a good Asian-Fusion restaurant in the Tri-Cities, replied,

"I can direct you to three kennels nearby."

August: Osage County

The movie, August: Osage County, is based on the Pulitzer Prize winning play of the same name by Tracy Letts. My wife and I saw the movie on a cold, foggy, and generally bleak Saturday afternoon in the Tri-Cities, Washington. The weather was a fitting backdrop for the movie, although a tornado laying waste to the area, and the movie theater burning to the ground would have been even more fitting.

August: Osage County chronicles a few days in the life of the Weston Family of Osage County, Oklahoma. Beverly Weston is married to Violet by whom he has three daughters, Barbara, the oldest, Ivy, the unmarried middle daughter, and Karen, the airhead youngest daughter, who is focused entirely on "being happy." Ain’t gonna happen, folks. No one in this family is ever going to be happy, and no one in the movie theater is going to leave it happy, unless they leave early, really, really early. I have to admit there were a few laughs in the audience during the showing; the kind you hear when an unexpected crude joke is told at the church social.

Violet is dying of mouth cancer, probably the result of her foul language and vicious attacks on her husband, her daughters, and anyone unfortunate enough to be in earshot. Yes, she’s led a hard life, but her intent seems to be to inflict as much punishment on her family as possible before her hard life comes to its inevitable and well-deserved end.

A reviewer called this drama a “scintillating criticism of the modern American family.” Whose modern American family are we talking about here -- Susan Powell’s? This family, like the Powells, is an anomaly; an outlier on the very end of the diving board over the empty pool. Tracy Letts has pulled out all the stops in establishing the backstory for his play/movie (based in part on his own family experience) in order to create the dysfunctional relationships and toxic exchanges that occur in the few days that we’re “privileged” to witness.

The family has gathered to determine the fate of the missing father, Beverly. My thought was that he certainly knew the story better than the theater audience and had decided to go fishing for the duration of the movie. Well, sort of.

I don’t want to spoil the suspense for you, so I end my review on this one positive note; the performances by Meryl Streep, as Violet, Julia Roberts, Julianne Nicholson, and Juliette Lewis, as the daughters, and the rest of the cast are uniformly outstanding. Streep’s performance is perhaps her best ever, and that’s saying a lot. She inhabits the character of Violet Weston as if she herself had been possessed by the demon of this sick, awful, bitter, ugly, addicted, harridan. I can’t imagine the emotional toll playing this character took on Streep. Streep admits in an interview that portraying Violet Weston in August: Osage County, wasn’t her “most joyous experience” in acting. No kidding!

Well, it wasn’t my most joyous experience as a viewer either, but damn, it was an experience!

Christmas 2013

Logan

Erin

Dear Family and Friends;

As I contemplated the prospect of having my son, Michael, and his family with us during the Christmas Holidays it occurred to me that I might have to address the question of Santa Claus with my grandson, Logan Matthew, who is eight years and 8 months old.

Up to now, Michael and his wife, Neva, have maintained that all Christmas presents come from Santa. Tags on packages are addressed to Logan, or his sister, Erin (3), from Santa. Cookies have been put out on Christmas Eve and only crumbs are left Christmas morning. Will Logan still believe in Santa, or will the word have gotten around the 3rd Grade that Santa isn’t real? Will Logan ask me, “Grandpa Richard, Do you believe in Santa?”

I decided that I’d answer unequivocally, “Yes,” because I do. I believe that Santa, or St. Nicholas, Father Christmas, Kris Kringle, or whomever, instills a spirit of love and generosity in people around the Holidays. I only wish that same spirit could be kept all year through. I suspect that Logan, who is very intelligent, and inquisitive, will look at me askance, but I will maintain my poise and refuse to be further interrogated. You either believe in Santa or you don’t. If it makes you happier not to, be my guest. Otherwise, let’s open the presents!

We’ve already being blessed with many gifts this year; good health, a full larder, good weather, a warm and sturdy home, and the company of family and friends. Having the whole family around us at this holiday time; Stephen, Michael, Neva, Logan, and Erin, is a very special gift. Next year will mark the 50th year of marriage for Patricia and I -- a gift that keeps on giving!

I feel a great sadness for the many people here in America and around the world who live from one day to the next wondering how they will survive, and I hope the spirit of giving encourages all of us, not just now, but always, to help, directly, or by contributing to the worthwhile charities that make it their life’s work to help these people.

May you enjoy your holiday, whether it be Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Diwali, or whatever you celebrate that brings you joy and offers joy to the world. Have fun, love one another, and have a very Happy New Year!

Lubię spotykać nowych ludzi

We have an opening for

An English teacher in Krakow

The opening is small

So teachers taller than 120 cm

Or wider than 60 cm

Need not apply

Although other openings exist for

Very big Polish people willing to learn

Hangul or Chonsongul

Candidates must be

Proficient in Haidong Gumdo

And be willing to travel

To say the least

Which isn't saying much

BTW

Pyongyang is a lovely city

Perched prettily on the Taedong River

And welcomes all peoples of the world

With open gulagi

A recent trade mission to Krakow

Came with nothing to trade

(they asked for a Moscow loan)

But small talk

And so left empty handed

Which in Poland is known as

Jumping over the

Moo Goo Gai Pan

With bare feet

In addition to Krakow and Pyongyang

Openings exist in the

Fabric of the Universe

Candidates must own at least

One cat or know

what box the cat is in

Let my people go!

“When Korea is reunified, our country will make its appearance on the world arena with great dignity as a rich and powerful, independent and sovereign state with a 70 million population, and our nation will exalt its pride of being a resourceful, dignified and great nation.”

(Kim Jong-il, “Let Us Carry Out the Great Leader Comrade Kim Il Sung’s Instructions for National Reunification,” Aug. 4, 1997)