Judas was the snitch in the government's case against Jesus, though his motive was vague. Others, perhaps only caught up in the spirit of the thing, gave false testimony against him. Soldiers carried out the sentence: they nailed him to the cross. His disciples had let him down every hour on the hour until Judas showed with the law – chief priests, scribes, and elders – and a crowd wielding swords and clubs. Then they abandoned him.
Every Sunday, from a time before I can remember until I was around eighteen years old, I knelt in a pew and was assaulted with a life-size statue of Christ on the cross hanging above the altar. Crowned with thorns. Blood dripping down one side of his face. A gash in the skin stretched tight over his agonized ribs, blood dripping; more blood trickling from the nail holse in his hands and feet. The weeks of Lent were a blessed relief, as they covered the statues with purple satin.
Perhaps the Catholic Church is onto something in its official condemnation of the death penalty. Its own saviour was a victim of capital punishment.
Jesus was a convict.
I know; he was betrayed. Most people who wind up in prison are. But the powers that were saw Jesus as guilty of insurrection, of treason, of attempting to overthrow the government. Serious charges, especially in the political tumult of the times. He was establishing a loyal following. They were scared of him.
*
When I think about what would happen if Jesus showed up next Tuesday – not riding down from heaven on a cloud with trumpet fanfare blasting, but the way the Bible says he did it the first time, human born, I cannot help but feel certain that he'd wind up on death row, probably in Texas. This would, of course, be after he graduated from harvard at thirteen and got fed into the media machine, made the rounds in TV land: Oprah, Good Morning America, maybe even Geraldo. Larry King Live would be a great venue for Jesus. We could call in. We could ask why there are tornadoes, why AIDS, why war. We could ask if the Western psychiatric establishment is part of the solution or part of the problem. And there would no doubt be numerous documentaries and a feature film, first rumored to be starring Tom Cruise, but in the end Brad Pitt would have to get the part.
Then everything would sour, and something would get whispered in a hallway somewhere in D.C. – This guy is bigger than Michael Jackson and Madonna put together, and he's still gathering momentum – and next thing you know, Jesus would be arrested. Betrayed again, no doubt. And instead of trying to post his bail, Hollywood – his production company, his agent, his lawyers, his publicist – would just bail out on him, as would most all of his other followers, except perhaps a loose, anonymous following on the Internet or maybe the odd militiaman who'd be willing to hole up in the name of Jesus and exchange fire with the feds.
*
Christ is on the cross, nails through his hands and feet, a thief hanging on either side of him. One thief makes fun of him. The other asks forgiveness. And, in what is the only instance in the entire New Testament of Christ actually promising heaven to anyone, Jesus says to the thief, "Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise."
Of course, these days, we don't crucify. These days, executions are a bit more civilized. They should be. After all, it's Christians who are carrying them out.
*
Excerpted from the essay published in
Joyful Noise: The New Testament Revisited, edited by Rick Moody and Darcey Steinke
Highly recommended
Friday, October 13, 2006
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Alan Ball, "The Most Beautiful Thing I've Ever Filmed"
It was one of those days where it's a minute away from snowing. And there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it, right? And this bag was just dancing with me. Like a little kid, begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes.
That's the day I realized that there was this entire life behind things, and this incredibly benevolent force that wanted me to know that there was no reason to be afraid. Ever.
Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember. I need to remember.
Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, and my heart is just going to cave in.
from American Beauty
That's the day I realized that there was this entire life behind things, and this incredibly benevolent force that wanted me to know that there was no reason to be afraid. Ever.
Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember. I need to remember.
Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, and my heart is just going to cave in.
from American Beauty
Anne Carson, "Mortal Life and How It Is Ruined"
once in a while in the long night I ponder
mortal life and how it is ruined.
not from bad judgment
do people go wrong—many are quite reasonable—
no look, it's this:
we know what is right, we understand it,
but we do not carry it out.
Either from laziness,
or we value something else, some pleasure.
from Grief Lessons: Four Plays By Euripedes
by Anne Carson
mortal life and how it is ruined.
not from bad judgment
do people go wrong—many are quite reasonable—
no look, it's this:
we know what is right, we understand it,
but we do not carry it out.
Either from laziness,
or we value something else, some pleasure.
from Grief Lessons: Four Plays By Euripedes
by Anne Carson
Teddy Roosevelt on Critics
"It is far better to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows not victory or defeat. Though many must surely wonder why you are doing what you are doing, while many may criticize you, I want you to remember it is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong mand stumbled or where the doers of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, in your case the baseball field: whose face is marred by dust and mud, sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes up short again and again; who know the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly."
from The Iowa Baseball Confederacy
by W.P. Kinsella
from The Iowa Baseball Confederacy
by W.P. Kinsella
Leonard Cohen, "Where The Good Songs Come From"
If I knew where the good songs came from, I'd go there more often. So it is that we shuffle behind our songs into the hall of fame -- shuffle awkwardly, not quite believing that we wrote them but happy that you do.
Leonard Cohen
Induction Speech, Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame
Leonard Cohen
Induction Speech, Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame
G.K. Chesterton, "Saying Grace"
You say grace before meals.
All right.
But I say grace before the play and the opera,
And grace before the concert and the pantomime,
And grace before I open a book,
And grace before sketching, painting,
Swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing;
And grace before I dip the pen in the ink.
by G.K. Chesterton
cited in Frederick Buechner's Speak What We Feel (Not What We Ought To Say)
All right.
But I say grace before the play and the opera,
And grace before the concert and the pantomime,
And grace before I open a book,
And grace before sketching, painting,
Swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing;
And grace before I dip the pen in the ink.
by G.K. Chesterton
cited in Frederick Buechner's Speak What We Feel (Not What We Ought To Say)
Armaud Bamba, "Perseverance"
by Armaud Bamba, Cote d'Ivoire
Amnesty International Urgent Action Network
Hope is not necessary in order to begin a task; success is not necessary in order to persevere. Our actions often lead to success, and if we rejoice in this, we cannot forget that sometimes, they are not followed by any perceptible result. If we campaign for an ideal, we should not limit our actions to a few calculations of probability; because our goal is too big. We must not wait for hope, even a faint glimmer, in order to get involved. Neither must we wait for success to persevere, because the very notion of perseverance implies effort without an apparent result. However, even without hope, we will carry on, and we know that one day we will see signs of hope, and the day after that day, we will succeed.
Amnesty International Urgent Action Network
Hope is not necessary in order to begin a task; success is not necessary in order to persevere. Our actions often lead to success, and if we rejoice in this, we cannot forget that sometimes, they are not followed by any perceptible result. If we campaign for an ideal, we should not limit our actions to a few calculations of probability; because our goal is too big. We must not wait for hope, even a faint glimmer, in order to get involved. Neither must we wait for success to persevere, because the very notion of perseverance implies effort without an apparent result. However, even without hope, we will carry on, and we know that one day we will see signs of hope, and the day after that day, we will succeed.
Paul Elie, "Pilgrimage"
from The Life You Save May Be Your Own
by Paul Elie
A pilgrimage is a journey undertaken in the light of a story. A great event has happened; the pilgrim hears the reports and goes in search of the evidence, aspiring to be an eyewitness. The pilgrim seeks not only to confirm the experience of others firsthand but to be changed by the experience.
by Paul Elie
A pilgrimage is a journey undertaken in the light of a story. A great event has happened; the pilgrim hears the reports and goes in search of the evidence, aspiring to be an eyewitness. The pilgrim seeks not only to confirm the experience of others firsthand but to be changed by the experience.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Margaret Visser, "Epiphanies"
from The Geometry of Love: Space, Time, Mystery and Meaning in an Ordinary Church
by Margaret Visser
The word "remember" comes from the same Indo-European root as "mind." And the English word "mind" is both a noun ("what is in the brain") and a verb ("pay attention to," "care"). When one has forgotten, to remember is to call back into the "attention span," to recall. Attention is thought of here as having a span - an extension in space. Forgetting, on the other hand, is like dropping something off a plate, falling off an edge, not "getting" it, but having to do, instead, without it. Remembering is recapturing something that happened in the past; it is an encounter of now with then - a matter of time. Buildings - constructions in space - may last through time as this church has lasted. Such structures can cause us to remember. Their endurance, as well as their taking up space, may counter time and keep memory alive.
This particular church reminds us of Agnes, who was killed by having her throat cut almost 1700 years ago. But like any church, it recalls a great deal more. One of a church's main purposes is to call to mind, to make people remember. To begin with, a church sets out to cause self-recollection. Every church does its best (some of them are good at this, others less so, but every church is trying) to help each person recall the mystical experience that he or she has known.
Everyone has had some such experience. There are moments in life when - to use the language of a building - the door swings open. The door shuts again, sooner rather than later. But we have seen, even if only through a crack, the light behind it. There has been a moment, for example, when every person realizes that one is oneself, and no one else. This is probably a very early memory, this taking a grip on one's own absolutely unique identity, this irrevocable beginning.
I remember myself, walking along a narrow path in the Zambian bush. The grass was brown and stiff, more than waist-high. I was wearing a green-and-white checked dress with buttons down the front. I was alone. I said aloud, stunned, "Tomorrow I'm going to be five! Tomorrow I'm going to be five!" I stopped still with amazement: fiveness was about to be mine! I had already had four. The whole world seemed to point to me in that instant. The world and I looked at each other. It was huge and I was me. I was filled with indescribable delight. I took another step, and the vision was gone. But it's still there, even now, even when I am not recalling it.
This was a mystical experience. As such, one of its characteristics was that in it my mind embraced a vast contradiction: both terms of it at once? I was me and the world contained me, but I was not the world. I was a person, but I wasn't "a person" - I was me. A mystical experience is before all else an experience, and beyond logic. It is concrete, and therefore unique. It is bigger than the person who experiences it; it is something one "enters."
People have always, apparently in all cultures, conceptualized the world as participating in, or expressing, or actually being a tension between a series of opposites: big and small, high and low, same and different, hot and cold, one and many, male and female, and so on. Societies of people can have very idiosyncratic ideas about what is opposite to what: a culture can find squirrels "opposite" to water rats, oblongs "opposite" to squares, bronze vessels "the opposite" of clay ones. Anthropologists dedicate themselves to finding 'out what such classifications could mean; the answers they give us usually show how social arrangements are reflected outward upon the world, and determine human perceptions of how nature is ordered. One result of a mystical experience, therefore, can be a profound demystification.
For no sooner has a culture organized its system of contradictions, than the mystics arise. They steadfastly, and often in the face of great danger, assure their fellow human beings that they are wrong: what appears to be a contradiction in terms is merely a convention, a point of view, a façon de parler, no matter how self-evident it may appear. These are people who believe and convince others that they have been lifted out of this world and have seen a greater truth: the opposites are, in fact, one. The Greek philosopher Heraclitus can say, "The way up and the way down are the same." Or: "Step into the same river twice, and its waters will be different."
Such mystic realizations (up and down are one, sameness and difference coincide) have to keep occurring, both for the sake of truth, and for the necessity of realizing that neither our senses nor our thinking faculties have access to, or are capable of encompassing, everything. ("The last proceeding of reason," wrote Pascal, "is to recognize that there is an infinity of things beyond it.") For all the outrage-and bafflement with which the pronouncements of the mystics are greeted, we remember their words; in time we learn to appreciate and value them. In our own day, physicists have been talking like mystics for some time: expressing physical reality, for example, as conflating space and time, or declaring that waves and particles (lines and dots) can be perceived to be "the same." The rest of us are only beginning to take in what they are saying.
From the point of view of the person experiencing them, privileged moments - those that allow us to see something not normally offered to our understanding - do not last. Regretfully, necessarily, we cannot remain in such an experience. We move on, into the practical, the sensible, the logical and provable, the mundane. But after one such glimpse of possibility, we henceforth know better. We know what it is to experience two or more incompatible, mutually exclusive categories as constituting in fact one whole. We have seen both sides of the coin, at one and the same time. An impossibility - but it has happened. We may bury this experience, deny it, explain it away-but at any moment something could trigger it, raise it up, recall it. Because it has happened, and cannot unhappen.
One of the consequences of having had a mystical experience is a sense of loss. If only it could have gone on and on, and never had to stop; if only the door would open again! One of the hardest lessons we have to learn in life is that we cannot bring about such an experience, any more than we can make it last. Sex can remind us of it because, like a mystical experience, sex is ecstatic, overwhelming, and delightful; it feels bigger than we are. Drugs can also make us feel as if we're "there" again. So people pursue sex and drugs - experiences they can get, they can have. This other thing, this greater and unforgettable thing, this insight, is not anyone's for the asking. It comes (it always comes, to everyone, at different times and in different ways), and there is no telling what it will be or when or where, let alone how. You can't buy it or demand it or keep it. It is not a chemical reaction, and there is nothing automatic about it.
A mystical experience is something perceived, and it calls forth a response. But you are free to turn away from the vision, to behave as though it never happened; you are free not to respond. (This is something I have had to learn: when I was almost five there was no question of not responding.) The invitation cannot be made to anyone else but you - and not even to you at any moment in your life other than the one in which it is made. I shall never be five again, so no other mystical experience I have will ever again be that one. I shall never again wear that green-and-white checked dress; it is very likely that the path through the brown grass has disappeared. What I have left is the enormous memory, and the fact that it has enlarged all of my experience ever since.
Now a church (or a temple or a synagogue or a mosque - any religious building) knows perfectly well that it cannot induce in anyone a mystical experience. What it does is acknowledge such experience as any of its visitors has had, as explicitly as it can. A church is a recognition, in stone and wood and brick, of spiritual awakenings. It nods, to each individual person. If the building has been created within a cultural and religious tradition, it constitutes a collective memory of spiritual insights, of thousands of mystical moments. A church reminds us of what we have known: And it tells us that the possibility of the door swinging open again remains.
by Margaret Visser
The word "remember" comes from the same Indo-European root as "mind." And the English word "mind" is both a noun ("what is in the brain") and a verb ("pay attention to," "care"). When one has forgotten, to remember is to call back into the "attention span," to recall. Attention is thought of here as having a span - an extension in space. Forgetting, on the other hand, is like dropping something off a plate, falling off an edge, not "getting" it, but having to do, instead, without it. Remembering is recapturing something that happened in the past; it is an encounter of now with then - a matter of time. Buildings - constructions in space - may last through time as this church has lasted. Such structures can cause us to remember. Their endurance, as well as their taking up space, may counter time and keep memory alive.
This particular church reminds us of Agnes, who was killed by having her throat cut almost 1700 years ago. But like any church, it recalls a great deal more. One of a church's main purposes is to call to mind, to make people remember. To begin with, a church sets out to cause self-recollection. Every church does its best (some of them are good at this, others less so, but every church is trying) to help each person recall the mystical experience that he or she has known.
Everyone has had some such experience. There are moments in life when - to use the language of a building - the door swings open. The door shuts again, sooner rather than later. But we have seen, even if only through a crack, the light behind it. There has been a moment, for example, when every person realizes that one is oneself, and no one else. This is probably a very early memory, this taking a grip on one's own absolutely unique identity, this irrevocable beginning.
I remember myself, walking along a narrow path in the Zambian bush. The grass was brown and stiff, more than waist-high. I was wearing a green-and-white checked dress with buttons down the front. I was alone. I said aloud, stunned, "Tomorrow I'm going to be five! Tomorrow I'm going to be five!" I stopped still with amazement: fiveness was about to be mine! I had already had four. The whole world seemed to point to me in that instant. The world and I looked at each other. It was huge and I was me. I was filled with indescribable delight. I took another step, and the vision was gone. But it's still there, even now, even when I am not recalling it.
This was a mystical experience. As such, one of its characteristics was that in it my mind embraced a vast contradiction: both terms of it at once? I was me and the world contained me, but I was not the world. I was a person, but I wasn't "a person" - I was me. A mystical experience is before all else an experience, and beyond logic. It is concrete, and therefore unique. It is bigger than the person who experiences it; it is something one "enters."
People have always, apparently in all cultures, conceptualized the world as participating in, or expressing, or actually being a tension between a series of opposites: big and small, high and low, same and different, hot and cold, one and many, male and female, and so on. Societies of people can have very idiosyncratic ideas about what is opposite to what: a culture can find squirrels "opposite" to water rats, oblongs "opposite" to squares, bronze vessels "the opposite" of clay ones. Anthropologists dedicate themselves to finding 'out what such classifications could mean; the answers they give us usually show how social arrangements are reflected outward upon the world, and determine human perceptions of how nature is ordered. One result of a mystical experience, therefore, can be a profound demystification.
For no sooner has a culture organized its system of contradictions, than the mystics arise. They steadfastly, and often in the face of great danger, assure their fellow human beings that they are wrong: what appears to be a contradiction in terms is merely a convention, a point of view, a façon de parler, no matter how self-evident it may appear. These are people who believe and convince others that they have been lifted out of this world and have seen a greater truth: the opposites are, in fact, one. The Greek philosopher Heraclitus can say, "The way up and the way down are the same." Or: "Step into the same river twice, and its waters will be different."
Such mystic realizations (up and down are one, sameness and difference coincide) have to keep occurring, both for the sake of truth, and for the necessity of realizing that neither our senses nor our thinking faculties have access to, or are capable of encompassing, everything. ("The last proceeding of reason," wrote Pascal, "is to recognize that there is an infinity of things beyond it.") For all the outrage-and bafflement with which the pronouncements of the mystics are greeted, we remember their words; in time we learn to appreciate and value them. In our own day, physicists have been talking like mystics for some time: expressing physical reality, for example, as conflating space and time, or declaring that waves and particles (lines and dots) can be perceived to be "the same." The rest of us are only beginning to take in what they are saying.
From the point of view of the person experiencing them, privileged moments - those that allow us to see something not normally offered to our understanding - do not last. Regretfully, necessarily, we cannot remain in such an experience. We move on, into the practical, the sensible, the logical and provable, the mundane. But after one such glimpse of possibility, we henceforth know better. We know what it is to experience two or more incompatible, mutually exclusive categories as constituting in fact one whole. We have seen both sides of the coin, at one and the same time. An impossibility - but it has happened. We may bury this experience, deny it, explain it away-but at any moment something could trigger it, raise it up, recall it. Because it has happened, and cannot unhappen.
One of the consequences of having had a mystical experience is a sense of loss. If only it could have gone on and on, and never had to stop; if only the door would open again! One of the hardest lessons we have to learn in life is that we cannot bring about such an experience, any more than we can make it last. Sex can remind us of it because, like a mystical experience, sex is ecstatic, overwhelming, and delightful; it feels bigger than we are. Drugs can also make us feel as if we're "there" again. So people pursue sex and drugs - experiences they can get, they can have. This other thing, this greater and unforgettable thing, this insight, is not anyone's for the asking. It comes (it always comes, to everyone, at different times and in different ways), and there is no telling what it will be or when or where, let alone how. You can't buy it or demand it or keep it. It is not a chemical reaction, and there is nothing automatic about it.
A mystical experience is something perceived, and it calls forth a response. But you are free to turn away from the vision, to behave as though it never happened; you are free not to respond. (This is something I have had to learn: when I was almost five there was no question of not responding.) The invitation cannot be made to anyone else but you - and not even to you at any moment in your life other than the one in which it is made. I shall never be five again, so no other mystical experience I have will ever again be that one. I shall never again wear that green-and-white checked dress; it is very likely that the path through the brown grass has disappeared. What I have left is the enormous memory, and the fact that it has enlarged all of my experience ever since.
Now a church (or a temple or a synagogue or a mosque - any religious building) knows perfectly well that it cannot induce in anyone a mystical experience. What it does is acknowledge such experience as any of its visitors has had, as explicitly as it can. A church is a recognition, in stone and wood and brick, of spiritual awakenings. It nods, to each individual person. If the building has been created within a cultural and religious tradition, it constitutes a collective memory of spiritual insights, of thousands of mystical moments. A church reminds us of what we have known: And it tells us that the possibility of the door swinging open again remains.
J.R.R. Tolkien, "Tales That Really Matter"
from The Lord Of The Rings (Book IV, Chapter 8, "The Stairs of Cirith Ungol")
by J.R.R. Tolkien
"I don't like anything here at all," said Frodo, "step or stone, breath or bone. Earth, air and water all seem accursed. But so our path is laid."
"Yes, that's so," said Sam. "And we shouldn't be here at all, if we'd known more about it before we started. But I suppose it's often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But that's not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually - their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn't. And if they had, we shouldn't know, because they'd have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on - and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know, coming home, and finding things all right, though not quite the same - like old Mr. Bilbo. But those aren't always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of a tale we've fallen into?"
"I wonder," said Frodo. "But I don't know. And that's the way of a real tale. Take any one that you're fond of. You may know, or guess, what kind of a tale it is, happy-ending or sad-ending, but the people in it don't know. And you don't want them to."
"No sir, of course not. Beren now, he never thought he was going to get that Silmaril from the Iron Crown in Thangorodrim, and yet he did, and that was a worse place and a blacker danger than ours. But that's a long tale, of course, and goes on past the happiness and into grief and beyond it - and the Silmaril went on and came to Earendil. And why, sir, I never thought of that before! We've got - you've got some of the light of it in that star-glass that the Lady gave you! Why, to think of it, we're in the same tale still! It's going on. Don't the great tales ever end?"
"No, they never end as tales," said Frodo. "But the people in them come, and go when their part's ended. Our part will end later - or sooner."
by J.R.R. Tolkien
"I don't like anything here at all," said Frodo, "step or stone, breath or bone. Earth, air and water all seem accursed. But so our path is laid."
"Yes, that's so," said Sam. "And we shouldn't be here at all, if we'd known more about it before we started. But I suppose it's often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But that's not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually - their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn't. And if they had, we shouldn't know, because they'd have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on - and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know, coming home, and finding things all right, though not quite the same - like old Mr. Bilbo. But those aren't always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of a tale we've fallen into?"
"I wonder," said Frodo. "But I don't know. And that's the way of a real tale. Take any one that you're fond of. You may know, or guess, what kind of a tale it is, happy-ending or sad-ending, but the people in it don't know. And you don't want them to."
"No sir, of course not. Beren now, he never thought he was going to get that Silmaril from the Iron Crown in Thangorodrim, and yet he did, and that was a worse place and a blacker danger than ours. But that's a long tale, of course, and goes on past the happiness and into grief and beyond it - and the Silmaril went on and came to Earendil. And why, sir, I never thought of that before! We've got - you've got some of the light of it in that star-glass that the Lady gave you! Why, to think of it, we're in the same tale still! It's going on. Don't the great tales ever end?"
"No, they never end as tales," said Frodo. "But the people in them come, and go when their part's ended. Our part will end later - or sooner."
Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, "Baboons"
from Finding Flow
by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
Baboons who live in the African plains spend about one-third of their life sleeping, and when awake they divide their time between traveling, finding and eating food, and free leisure time - which basically consists in interacting, or grooming each other's fur to pick out lice. It is not a very exciting life, yet not much has changed in the million years since humans evolved out of common simian ancestors. The requirements of life still dictate that we spend our time in a way that is not that different from the African baboons. Give and take a few hours, most people sleep one-third of the day, and use the remainder to work, travel, and rest in more or less the same proportions as the baboons do. And as the historian Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie has shown, in thirteenth centruy French villages - which were among the most advanced in the world at the time - the most common leisure pursuit was still that of picking lice out of each other's hair. Now, of course, we have television.
by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
Baboons who live in the African plains spend about one-third of their life sleeping, and when awake they divide their time between traveling, finding and eating food, and free leisure time - which basically consists in interacting, or grooming each other's fur to pick out lice. It is not a very exciting life, yet not much has changed in the million years since humans evolved out of common simian ancestors. The requirements of life still dictate that we spend our time in a way that is not that different from the African baboons. Give and take a few hours, most people sleep one-third of the day, and use the remainder to work, travel, and rest in more or less the same proportions as the baboons do. And as the historian Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie has shown, in thirteenth centruy French villages - which were among the most advanced in the world at the time - the most common leisure pursuit was still that of picking lice out of each other's hair. Now, of course, we have television.
Annie Dillard, "Cranking The Flywheel"
from The Writing Life
by Annie Dillard
Every morning you climb several flights of stairs, enter your study, open the French doors, and slide your desk and chair out into the middle of the air. The desk and chair float thirty feet from the ground, between the crowns of maple trees. The furniture is in place; you go back for your thermos of coffee. Then, wincing, you step out again through the French doors and sit down on the chair and look over the desktop. You can see clear to the river from here in winter. You pour yourself a cup of coffee.
Birds fly under your chair. In spring, when the leaves open in the maples' crowns, your view stops in the treetops just beyond the desk; yellow warblers hiss and whisper on the high twigs, and catch flies. Get to work. Your work is to keep cranking the flywheel that turns the gears that spin the belt in the engine of belief that keeps you and your desk in midair.
by Annie Dillard
Every morning you climb several flights of stairs, enter your study, open the French doors, and slide your desk and chair out into the middle of the air. The desk and chair float thirty feet from the ground, between the crowns of maple trees. The furniture is in place; you go back for your thermos of coffee. Then, wincing, you step out again through the French doors and sit down on the chair and look over the desktop. You can see clear to the river from here in winter. You pour yourself a cup of coffee.
Birds fly under your chair. In spring, when the leaves open in the maples' crowns, your view stops in the treetops just beyond the desk; yellow warblers hiss and whisper on the high twigs, and catch flies. Get to work. Your work is to keep cranking the flywheel that turns the gears that spin the belt in the engine of belief that keeps you and your desk in midair.
Oblation: Robert, Andy, Auggie, Ricky
from An Offering Of Uncles: The Priesthood of Adam and The Shape of the World
by Robert Farrar Capon
I take my children to the beach. On the north shore of Long Island it is a pretty stony proposition. The mills of the gods grind coarsely here; but, in exchange for busied feet and a sore coccyx, they provide gravel for the foundation of the arts. Every year we hunt for perfect stones: ovals, spheroids, lozenges, eggs. By the end of the summer there are pebbles all over the house. They have no apparent use other than the delight that they provide to man, but that is the whole point of the collection. The very act of hunting them is an introduction to the oblation of things. Look at this one! Do you think it will split evenly enough for arrowheads? What color is that one when it's wet? Lick it and see. Daddy wants a big flat round one to hold the sauerkraut under the brine. Will this one do? We walk down the beach lifting stones into our history: we are collectors, ingatherers of being. Man is the lover of textures, colors and shapes – the only creature in the whole world who knows a good pickling stone when he sees one. The arts go way beyond that; but that is where they begin.
The child who runs the satin binding of his blanket between this fingers, the boy who carefully oils his collection of ball bearings so they will not rust, the woman who loves to handle thick braids, the man who opens his pocket-knife just to hear the satisfying click with which it closes – all these are priestly builders. It is in his simplest oblations that man is at his historical best. When he rises higher, he makes more mistakes – he diagrams and spiritualizes what should have been loved and offered as a thing; but at these low levels he is a success. The world has seen few badly offered blanket bindings, few profaned ball bearings. As long as man can hunt stones, he will know that the fire of his priesthood has not gone out.
But the oblation of things goes far beyond such simplicities. It is in the arts and the crafts that man most displays his priestliness and historicity. ...
It is a common error to suppose that the artist does what he does for himself – that he is a peculiar being who loves certain things in a way not open to others. It is also common to dismiss the craftsman as a fellow who does things for money. To some degree, of course, that is all true. Artists are usually a little odd; the laborer commonly, and legitimately, looks forward to his hire. But after that it falls short. For each is engaged in an offering of things not simply for his own benefit, but for the sake of the things themselves – and for the sake of other men. The painter paints because he loves the way things look and wants to offer his sight of them to others. The poet speaks because he loves words and longs for them to be heard as he hears them. And the cabinetmaker fashions and the joiner joins, and the chef cooks and the vintner toils because they love the conjunctions of things and will them to be moved into the weaving of the web. All arts come from having open eyes; and all arts are performing arts. Even the solitary artist in the cave draws to be seen, offers up what he looks at as a priest for other men. It is only in bad drawing, bad writing and bad woodwork that motives other than priestly ones become primary. It is when man stops loving what he does and stops caring whether others see that he becomes guilty of artistry that is not art and of craftsmanship that is only shoddy. ...
If speech is the crowning gift of man, then the arts of language probably qualify as the most nearly universal. Not all men can draw, many men cannot sing, and the world is full of cooks who ought to be allowed to rise no higher than the scullery; but all men speak, and practically no one is immune to the delights of rhyme and reason. The child, as soon as he learns words, plays with words. The teen-ager, with his stock of current clichés and his mercurial pattern of jargon, is a poet. He may recite only commercial slogans and comparable idiocies; but he recites them, at least partly, because he loves the way the words rattle. And somewhere along the line he will, unless he is starved to death, come to love some very grand rattles indeed.
I remember the first time I read Shakespeare's sonnets. "Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds" stuck in my head for weeks – not so much for its meaning as for its marvellous wordiness. The city of speech is old and new, and rich beyond counting. ...
That only a few have the craft to forge such words takes nothing off the edge of the marvel by which man can sense the priestliness of their oblation And it is not only the grand and the gorgeous that qualify. ...
Speech is no mere tool of communication; it is a joy in itself. ... Speech should indeed inform, as food should indeed nourish, but what sane man will let either subject go at that? ...
Man's failure in music is like his failure in all the arts – a failure to make them really priestly, a penchant for non-historical and irrelevant forms. Far too much of the music we now have is only heard, not played or sung. It makes no demands, does not ask to be lifted; it just hangs around. We have canned music, background music, and music to do everything but listen to music by. But music cannot be only entertainment any more than speech can be only communication. We aim too low. Both are major oblations, and they will settle for nothing less. Neither can be merely used: they must be played.
Thank God for wine. Without it we would have almost no singing at all. Practically the only place where men now sing when they are cold sober is in church; and, to tell the truth, it sounds like it. As a professional religionist, I wish I could make a more glowing report; but, by and large, it is wretched. It is a triumph of use, not play. And for every man in church who sings, there are five who stand aloof from the whole business as if it were faintly disreputable.
Why? Because they are embarrassed by the sound of their own voices: they are ashamed of their priesthood. The city of music, which fairly cries for lifting into their history, is firmly and permanently locked out. I think that secretly, in their heart of hearts, perhaps, they envy people who play. But they do not show it often. If only they would. It isn't a matter of working themselves into miniature Isaac Sterns; the harmonica will do if it comes to that – or even tenth-rate four-part harmony. They underestimate the power of the arts. A man can practice for weeks on the strength of one-chord progression. Even the smallest oblation will lift the priest as he makes it; even a little attention to what is really there will be a historical triumph.
*
Rivers & Tides: Andy Goldsworthy Working With Time
Andy: I think its chances of survival are a bit slim.
Shit.
I need a very heavy stone right here. "Can you bring me a very heavy stone? A kind of lumpy squarish one." Maybe I shouldn't have put that one on.
(They add the new stone. Two or three more. It collapses.)
That's the fourth… The fourth collapse. And the tide is coming in.
I think it would be better to wait.
The moment when something collapses is intensely disappointing. And this is the fourth time it's fallen. And each time I got to know the stone a little bit more. And it got higher each time. So it grew in proportion to my understanding of the stone. And that is really one of the things that my art is trying to do, is trying to understand the stone.
I obviously don't understand it well enough yet.
(Jump to the intercutting of the two stone cairns.)
22:45-26:03
27:52-29:18
*
Smoke
by Paul Auster
Paul: Looks like someone forgot a camera.
Auggie: Yeah. I did.
It's yours?
That's mine alright. I've owned that little sucker for a long time.
I didn't know you took pictures.
Well, I guess you could call it a hobby. Only takes me five minutes a day to do it but I do it every day. Rain or shine, sleet or snow. Sort of like the postman.
So you're not just some guy who pushes coins across a counter.
Well that's what people see. But that ain't necessarily what I am.
(Cut to black and white photos, arranged in an album)
They're all the same.
That's right. More than four thousand pictures of the same place. The corner of third street and seventh avenue at eight o'clock in the morning. Four thousand straight days in all kinds of weather. That's why I can never take a vacation, I've got to be in my spot every morning at the same time. Every morning in the same spot at the same time.
I've never seen anything like this.
That's my project. What you'd call my life's work.
It's amazing. I'm not sure I get it, though. I mean, what was it that gave you the idea to do this… project.
I don't know. It just came to me. It's my corner after all. I mean, it's just one little part of the world, but things take place there too, just like everywhere else. It's a record of my little spot.
It's kind of overwhelming.
(He finishes with one book. Auggie give him another.)
You'll never get it if you don't slow down my friend.
What do you mean?
I mean you're going too fast, you're hardly even looking at the pictures.
They're all the same.
They're all the same, but each one is different from every other one. You've got your bright mornings and your dark mornings, you got your summer light and your autumn light, you got your weekdays and your weekends, you got your people in overcoats and galoshes and you've got your people in T shirts and shorts. Sometimes the same people, sometimes different ones. Sometimes the different ones become the same, or the same ones disappear. The earth revolves around the sun, and every day the light from the sun hits the earth at a different angle.
Slow down, huh?
That's what I recommend. You know how it is. "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, time creeps on its petty pace."
(We look at the photos, more slowly)
Oh Jesus. Look. It's Ellen.
Yeah, that's her alright. She's in quite a few from that year. Must have been on her way to work.
It's Ellen. Look at her. Look at my sweet darling.
(He cries. New scene: Auggie takes a picture of his corner.)
11:14-17:38
17:38-18:03
*
American Beauty
by Alan Ball
Ricky: What's wrong?
Jane: Nothing.
No, you're scared of me.
No I'm not.
You want to see the most beautiful thing I've ever filmed?
It was one of those days where it's a minute away from snowing. And there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it, right? And this bag was just dancing with me. Like a little kid, begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes.
That's the day I realized that there was this entire life behind things, and this incredibly benevolent force that wanted me to know that there was no reason to be afraid. Ever.
Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember. I need to remember.
Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, and my heart is just going to cave in.
1:01:34-1:04:50
by Robert Farrar Capon
I take my children to the beach. On the north shore of Long Island it is a pretty stony proposition. The mills of the gods grind coarsely here; but, in exchange for busied feet and a sore coccyx, they provide gravel for the foundation of the arts. Every year we hunt for perfect stones: ovals, spheroids, lozenges, eggs. By the end of the summer there are pebbles all over the house. They have no apparent use other than the delight that they provide to man, but that is the whole point of the collection. The very act of hunting them is an introduction to the oblation of things. Look at this one! Do you think it will split evenly enough for arrowheads? What color is that one when it's wet? Lick it and see. Daddy wants a big flat round one to hold the sauerkraut under the brine. Will this one do? We walk down the beach lifting stones into our history: we are collectors, ingatherers of being. Man is the lover of textures, colors and shapes – the only creature in the whole world who knows a good pickling stone when he sees one. The arts go way beyond that; but that is where they begin.
The child who runs the satin binding of his blanket between this fingers, the boy who carefully oils his collection of ball bearings so they will not rust, the woman who loves to handle thick braids, the man who opens his pocket-knife just to hear the satisfying click with which it closes – all these are priestly builders. It is in his simplest oblations that man is at his historical best. When he rises higher, he makes more mistakes – he diagrams and spiritualizes what should have been loved and offered as a thing; but at these low levels he is a success. The world has seen few badly offered blanket bindings, few profaned ball bearings. As long as man can hunt stones, he will know that the fire of his priesthood has not gone out.
But the oblation of things goes far beyond such simplicities. It is in the arts and the crafts that man most displays his priestliness and historicity. ...
It is a common error to suppose that the artist does what he does for himself – that he is a peculiar being who loves certain things in a way not open to others. It is also common to dismiss the craftsman as a fellow who does things for money. To some degree, of course, that is all true. Artists are usually a little odd; the laborer commonly, and legitimately, looks forward to his hire. But after that it falls short. For each is engaged in an offering of things not simply for his own benefit, but for the sake of the things themselves – and for the sake of other men. The painter paints because he loves the way things look and wants to offer his sight of them to others. The poet speaks because he loves words and longs for them to be heard as he hears them. And the cabinetmaker fashions and the joiner joins, and the chef cooks and the vintner toils because they love the conjunctions of things and will them to be moved into the weaving of the web. All arts come from having open eyes; and all arts are performing arts. Even the solitary artist in the cave draws to be seen, offers up what he looks at as a priest for other men. It is only in bad drawing, bad writing and bad woodwork that motives other than priestly ones become primary. It is when man stops loving what he does and stops caring whether others see that he becomes guilty of artistry that is not art and of craftsmanship that is only shoddy. ...
If speech is the crowning gift of man, then the arts of language probably qualify as the most nearly universal. Not all men can draw, many men cannot sing, and the world is full of cooks who ought to be allowed to rise no higher than the scullery; but all men speak, and practically no one is immune to the delights of rhyme and reason. The child, as soon as he learns words, plays with words. The teen-ager, with his stock of current clichés and his mercurial pattern of jargon, is a poet. He may recite only commercial slogans and comparable idiocies; but he recites them, at least partly, because he loves the way the words rattle. And somewhere along the line he will, unless he is starved to death, come to love some very grand rattles indeed.
I remember the first time I read Shakespeare's sonnets. "Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds" stuck in my head for weeks – not so much for its meaning as for its marvellous wordiness. The city of speech is old and new, and rich beyond counting. ...
That only a few have the craft to forge such words takes nothing off the edge of the marvel by which man can sense the priestliness of their oblation And it is not only the grand and the gorgeous that qualify. ...
Speech is no mere tool of communication; it is a joy in itself. ... Speech should indeed inform, as food should indeed nourish, but what sane man will let either subject go at that? ...
Man's failure in music is like his failure in all the arts – a failure to make them really priestly, a penchant for non-historical and irrelevant forms. Far too much of the music we now have is only heard, not played or sung. It makes no demands, does not ask to be lifted; it just hangs around. We have canned music, background music, and music to do everything but listen to music by. But music cannot be only entertainment any more than speech can be only communication. We aim too low. Both are major oblations, and they will settle for nothing less. Neither can be merely used: they must be played.
Thank God for wine. Without it we would have almost no singing at all. Practically the only place where men now sing when they are cold sober is in church; and, to tell the truth, it sounds like it. As a professional religionist, I wish I could make a more glowing report; but, by and large, it is wretched. It is a triumph of use, not play. And for every man in church who sings, there are five who stand aloof from the whole business as if it were faintly disreputable.
Why? Because they are embarrassed by the sound of their own voices: they are ashamed of their priesthood. The city of music, which fairly cries for lifting into their history, is firmly and permanently locked out. I think that secretly, in their heart of hearts, perhaps, they envy people who play. But they do not show it often. If only they would. It isn't a matter of working themselves into miniature Isaac Sterns; the harmonica will do if it comes to that – or even tenth-rate four-part harmony. They underestimate the power of the arts. A man can practice for weeks on the strength of one-chord progression. Even the smallest oblation will lift the priest as he makes it; even a little attention to what is really there will be a historical triumph.
*
Rivers & Tides: Andy Goldsworthy Working With Time
Andy: I think its chances of survival are a bit slim.
Shit.
I need a very heavy stone right here. "Can you bring me a very heavy stone? A kind of lumpy squarish one." Maybe I shouldn't have put that one on.
(They add the new stone. Two or three more. It collapses.)
That's the fourth… The fourth collapse. And the tide is coming in.
I think it would be better to wait.
The moment when something collapses is intensely disappointing. And this is the fourth time it's fallen. And each time I got to know the stone a little bit more. And it got higher each time. So it grew in proportion to my understanding of the stone. And that is really one of the things that my art is trying to do, is trying to understand the stone.
I obviously don't understand it well enough yet.
(Jump to the intercutting of the two stone cairns.)
22:45-26:03
27:52-29:18
*
Smoke
by Paul Auster
Paul: Looks like someone forgot a camera.
Auggie: Yeah. I did.
It's yours?
That's mine alright. I've owned that little sucker for a long time.
I didn't know you took pictures.
Well, I guess you could call it a hobby. Only takes me five minutes a day to do it but I do it every day. Rain or shine, sleet or snow. Sort of like the postman.
So you're not just some guy who pushes coins across a counter.
Well that's what people see. But that ain't necessarily what I am.
(Cut to black and white photos, arranged in an album)
They're all the same.
That's right. More than four thousand pictures of the same place. The corner of third street and seventh avenue at eight o'clock in the morning. Four thousand straight days in all kinds of weather. That's why I can never take a vacation, I've got to be in my spot every morning at the same time. Every morning in the same spot at the same time.
I've never seen anything like this.
That's my project. What you'd call my life's work.
It's amazing. I'm not sure I get it, though. I mean, what was it that gave you the idea to do this… project.
I don't know. It just came to me. It's my corner after all. I mean, it's just one little part of the world, but things take place there too, just like everywhere else. It's a record of my little spot.
It's kind of overwhelming.
(He finishes with one book. Auggie give him another.)
You'll never get it if you don't slow down my friend.
What do you mean?
I mean you're going too fast, you're hardly even looking at the pictures.
They're all the same.
They're all the same, but each one is different from every other one. You've got your bright mornings and your dark mornings, you got your summer light and your autumn light, you got your weekdays and your weekends, you got your people in overcoats and galoshes and you've got your people in T shirts and shorts. Sometimes the same people, sometimes different ones. Sometimes the different ones become the same, or the same ones disappear. The earth revolves around the sun, and every day the light from the sun hits the earth at a different angle.
Slow down, huh?
That's what I recommend. You know how it is. "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, time creeps on its petty pace."
(We look at the photos, more slowly)
Oh Jesus. Look. It's Ellen.
Yeah, that's her alright. She's in quite a few from that year. Must have been on her way to work.
It's Ellen. Look at her. Look at my sweet darling.
(He cries. New scene: Auggie takes a picture of his corner.)
11:14-17:38
17:38-18:03
*
American Beauty
by Alan Ball
Ricky: What's wrong?
Jane: Nothing.
No, you're scared of me.
No I'm not.
You want to see the most beautiful thing I've ever filmed?
It was one of those days where it's a minute away from snowing. And there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it, right? And this bag was just dancing with me. Like a little kid, begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes.
That's the day I realized that there was this entire life behind things, and this incredibly benevolent force that wanted me to know that there was no reason to be afraid. Ever.
Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember. I need to remember.
Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, and my heart is just going to cave in.
1:01:34-1:04:50
Sunday, March 23, 2003
BOOKS
GET
HAVE
Roger Ebert, The Great Movies IV
John D. MacDonald, The Deep Blue Good-By
Flannery O'Connor, Good Things Out of Nazareth
Sam Wasson, The Big Goodbye: Chinatown and the Last Years of Hollywood
Matthew Zoller Seitz, The Oliver Stone Experience
UNFINISHED
Ace Atkins, Someone To Watch Over Me
Bono, Surrender (Allen Desnoyers)
Bob Dylan, the Philosophy of Modern Song
Ernest Hemingway, For Whom The Bell Tolls
Margaret Mitchell, The Sleeve Should Be Illegal
FINISHED
P.D. James, The Children of Men (Mar 2023, reread)
Christopher Dickey, Innocent Blood (Feb 2023)
A.S. Fleischman, Blood Alley (Feb 2023)
Daniel Woodrell, Tomato Red
Daniel Woodrell, Winter's Bone
Johann Hari, Stolen Focus (Sep 2022)
Emmanuel Carrére, The Kingdom (Sep 2022)
Stephen King, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon (2022)
Roger Bennett, (Re)Born in the USA (2021)
Casey Cep, Furious Hours: Murder, Fraud, and the Last Trial of Harper Lee
Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow
Tara Westover, Educated
Orson Scott Card, The Folk of the Fringe (2020)
David Brin, The Postman (2020)
John Wyndham, The Day of the Triffids (2020)
John Christopher, The Death of Grass (2020, inc.)
Pat Frank, Alas, Babylon (2020)
Peter Heller, The Dog Stars (2020)
Jim Harrison, Legends of the Fall (2020)
James Shapiro, The Year of Lear (2020)
Emily St. John Mandel, Station Eleven (2018)
Marilyn Robinson, Gilead (Jan 2017)
William Finnegan, Barbarian Days (2016)
Roger Kahn, The Boys of Summer
Robert Farrar Capon, Kingdom, Grace, Judgment
Michael Lewis, Moneyball
Bruce Cockburn, Rumours of Glory (2014)
Truman Capote, In Cold Blood (2013, re-read)
Humphrey Carpenter, The Inklings (2012)
Humphrey Carpenter, J.R.R. Tolkien: A Biography (2012)
C.S. Lewis, The Collected Letters, Volume II (2012)
The Hunger Games (Jun 2012)
The Great Movies III (2011)
W.H. Vanstone, The Stature of Waiting
Andrew Vachss, The Getaway Man
Sharp Teeth (May 2008)
The Great Movies II (2006)
John Knowles, A Separate Peace (2005 reread)
J.D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye (2005 partial reread)
Bob Dylan, Chronicles: Volume One (2004)
The Hidden God: Film and Faith (2003/04, MoMA)
Robert Jewett, Saint Paul Returns to the Movies
Roger Ebert, The Great Movies I
Pauline Kael
Mary Doria Russell, The Sparrow (2001)
Nick Hornby, How To Be Good (2001)
William Raeper, George MacDonald (2000)
Michael Chabon, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay (2000)
Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies (1999)
Annie Dillard, For The Time Being (1999)
Nick Hornby, High Fidelity
Susan Orlean, The Orchid Thief
John Berendt, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil
Simon Winchester, The Professor and the Madman (1998)
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (1997)
Kazuo Ishiguro, The Remains of the Day
Richard Carlson, Don't Sweat The Small Stuff (Jan 1997)
Thomas Moore, Care of the Soul (1996)
Thomas Moore, The Re-Enchantment of Everyday Life (1996)
Mihaly Csikszentmilahyi, Finding Flow
Robert Bly, Iron John (1990)
Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol (1993)
Garrison Keillor, The Book of Guys (1993)
John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany (1993, Thetis Family Camp)
Douglas Coupland, Life After God (1993)
Norman Maclean, Young Men and Fire (1992)
P.D. James, Children of Men (1992)
Jack Chambers, Milestones: The Music and Times of Miles Davis
Miles Davis with Quincy Troupe, Miles: The Autobiography
Anne Tyler, Saint Maybe
Leonard Maltin's TV Movies and Video Guide, 1989 Edition (1989)
James Dickey, Deliverance
Barbara Kingsolver, Pigs in Heaven
The Floatplane Notebooks (1988)
David Mamet, Writing In Restaurants
Mark Lewisohn, The Complete Beatles Recording Sessions
William Gibson, Count Zero, Neuromancer, Burning Chrome (1988)
Annie Dillard, The Living (1992)
Annie Dillard, An American Childhood (1987)
M. Scott Peck, The Road Less Traveled (1987)
Robert B. Parker, the Spenser novels
Roger Angell, The Summer Game
Thomas Boswell, Why Time Begins On Opening Day
Ken Burns, Baseball
David James Duncan, The Brothers K
Charles Einstein, The Baseball Reader
Roger Kahn, Good Enough to Dream
John Thorn, The Armchair Book of Baseball
W.P. Kinsella, The Iowa Baseball Confederacy (1986)
W.P. Kinsella, Shoeless Joe (1986)
William Least Heat Moon, Blue Highways
Holy The Firm
Annie Dillard, Teaching A Stone To Talk
Jack Hodgins, The Resurrection of Joseph Bourne
Philip Norman, Shout (1984/85)
Frederick Buechner, The Magnificent Defeat
Frederick Buechner, The Book of Bebb (1984)
Frederick Buechner, Telling The Truth (1984)
Stanislaw Lem, The Investigation
Madeleine L'Engle books
Raymond Chandler, The Raymond Chandler Omnibus, etc. (1983)
Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov, Book One (1982)
Graham Greene, The Power and the Glory (1981)
J. Paterson Smyth, A People's Life of Christ
Sheldon Vanauken, A Severe Mercy
Charles Williams, Descent Into Hell
Stuart Jackman, The Davidson Affair
G.K. Chesterton, The Innocence of Father Brown (1978)
Richard Adams, Watership Down (1976)
Robert Pirsig, Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (1976)
Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Viktor Frankl, Man's Search For Meaning
William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury
C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
William Peter Blatty, The Exorcist (1973)
J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye
John Knowles, A Separate Peace
Thomas Tryon, The Other
Bram Stoker, Dracula
Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes
Alfred Hitchcock, Stories That Scared Even Me
Kenneth Robeson, Doc Savage series
C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia
Freddy the Pig
Henry Reed, Inc.
Homer Price
The Thinking Machine
Edgar Allen Poe
Wednesday, June 28, 2000
Tuesday, June 27, 2000
R&M LAUGH IN: Sampler #1 (News)
Here's the news of the future, New York City, 1989. Little hope is held out for world harmony. The latest reports show the Arabs are still fighting the Jews, the Catholics are still fighting the protestants, the blacks are still fighting the whites, and this morning the United Nations declared war on the Peace Corps.
R&M LAUGH IN: Cocktail Party 2
My church welcomes all denominations. But my favorite is the five dollar bill.
R&M LAUGH IN: The Monkees
The Joke Wall- October 6, 1969 episode of Laugh-In, featuring The Monkees: Davy Jones, Micky Dolenz & Michael Nesmith
Pamela: Alan.
Alan: What is it, Pammy baby booty?
Pamela: I fell asleep in the sun and burned my whole left side. What should I do?
Alan: Well, I'd turn the other cheek.
Byron: Hey Davey.
Davey: Yeah, Byron?
Byron: What's full of straw and wears a mask?
Davey: Uh, that's the Lone Manger.
R&M LAUGH IN: Holiday Show
However liberal the church becomes, I seriously doubt the Pope will allow cheerleaders in the college of cardinals.
Tonight, Rowan and Martin's Laugh In salutes the spirit of Christmas.
It's a great time of the year to do that. It would sure look strange seeing a Christmas show in spring reruns.
Never mind about that, that's the whole point. Christmas shouldn't just be in December but it should be all year long.
Wow, we couldn't afford that.
You see, too many people forget what Christmas spirit is really about.
Oh tell me about it, won't you?
I fully intend to.
I thought you would.
Yes.
Well it all started in a little town of Bethlehem—
(snores)
It all started in a little town of Bethlehem.
Little town of Bethlehem. Good name for a song.
Alright, now many years ago the world was troubled with many pressing problems.
Well no wonder, they didn't have drip dry suits then.
Now this is serious, Dick. People were rioting in the streets, there was civil disorder, injustice, oppression of minority groups—
Well I'm certainly glad they cleared all that up.
Now what does Christmas mean to you?
Christmas means to me many things. Decorating the Christmas tree with popcorn, going around the neighborhood singing Christmas carols, tiny little tots with their face all aglow.
Why that's beautiful! And that's what Christmas means to you.
No, that's what Christmas means to the cuckoo holding my cue card.
I don't want to hear about it....
I've often wondered. Is it proper to send a get well card to a Christian Scientist?
Monday, June 26, 2000
Sunday, June 25, 2000
Friday, June 02, 2000
R&M LAUGH IN: History
Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In is an American sketch comedy television program which ran for 140 episodes from January 22, 1968 to May 14, 1973. It was hosted by comedians Dan Rowan and Dick Martin and was broadcast over NBC. It originally aired as a one-time special on September 9, 1967 and was such a success that it was brought back as a series, replacing The Man from U.N.C.L.E. on Mondays at 8pm on NBC.
The title, Laugh-In, came out of events of the 1960s hippie culture, such as "love-ins" or "be-ins." These were terms that were, in turn, derived from "sit-ins," common in protests associated with civil rights and anti-war demonstrations of the time.
The show was characterized by a rapid-fire series of gags and sketches, many of which conveyed sexual innuendo or were politically charged. Rowan and Martin continued the exasperated straight man (Dan Rowan) and "dumb" guy (Dick Martin) act which they had established as nightclub comics.
Laugh-In had its roots in the humor of vaudeville and burlesque, but its most direct influences were from the comedy of Olsen and Johnson (specifically, their free-form Broadway revue Hellzapoppin'), the innovative television works of Ernie Kovacs, and the topical satire of That Was The Week That Was.
The title, Laugh-In, came out of events of the 1960s hippie culture, such as "love-ins" or "be-ins." These were terms that were, in turn, derived from "sit-ins," common in protests associated with civil rights and anti-war demonstrations of the time.
The show was characterized by a rapid-fire series of gags and sketches, many of which conveyed sexual innuendo or were politically charged. Rowan and Martin continued the exasperated straight man (Dan Rowan) and "dumb" guy (Dick Martin) act which they had established as nightclub comics.
Laugh-In had its roots in the humor of vaudeville and burlesque, but its most direct influences were from the comedy of Olsen and Johnson (specifically, their free-form Broadway revue Hellzapoppin'), the innovative television works of Ernie Kovacs, and the topical satire of That Was The Week That Was.
R&M LAUGH IN: Catch Phrases
Memorable cast members/guests and their running gags
Arte Johnson portrayed a number of recurring characters, including:
Wolfgang the German soldier - Wolfgang would comment on the previous gag by saying "Verrry interesting", sometimes with comments such as "...but shtupid!" He eventually would close each show by talking to Lucille Ball as well as the cast of Gunsmoke — both airing opposite Laugh-In on CBS; as well as whatever was on ABC. Johnson would later repeat the line while playing Nazi-themed supervillain Virman Vundabar on an episode of Justice League Unlimited.
Tyrone F. Horneigh (pronounced "hor-NIGH," presumably to satisfy the censors) - A dirty old man coming on to Gladys Ormphby (Ruth Buzzi) seated on a park bench, who almost invariably clobbered him with her purse. Sample exchange:
Tyrone: Do you believe in the hereafter?
Gladys: Of course I do!
Tyrone: Good. Then you know what I'm here after!
(Both the Tyrone and Gladys characters went into animated form in the "Nitwits" segments of the 1977 animated television show "Baggy Pants and the Nitwits")
Piotr Rosmenko, the Eastern European Man - Piotr stood stiffly and nervously in an ill-fitting suit while commenting on differences between America and "the old country," such as "Here in America, is very good, everyone watch television. In old country, television watches you!" This predated a similar schtick by Yakov Smirnoff. Occasionally guest star Sammy Davis, Jr. teamed with Johnson as "The Rosmenko Twins."
Rabbi Shankar (a pun on Ravi Shankar), an Indian guru - Dressed in a Nehru jacket dispensing pseudo-mystical Eastern wisdom laden with bad puns. He held up two fingers in a peace sign whenever he spoke.
An unnamed man in a yellow raincoat and hat, riding a tricycle. The image of him pedaling, then tipping over and falling, was frequently used between sketches. (Judy Carne was once reported to have said that every member of the cast took turns riding the tricycle at one time or another.)
Announcer Gary Owens standing in an old-time radio studio with his hand cupped over his ear, making announcements, often with little relation to the rest of the show, such as (in an overly-dramatic voice), "Earlier that evening..."
Ruth Buzzi in many roles, including:
Gladys Ormphby - A drab, though relatively young spinster who was the eternal target of Arte Johnson's Tyrone; when Johnson left the series, Gladys retreated into recurring daydreams, often involving marriages to historical figures, including Christopher Columbus and Benjamin Franklin (both played by Alan Sues).
Doris Swizzle - A seedy barfly paired with her husband, Leonard Swizzle, played by Dick Martin.
Busy Buzzi - A Hedda Hopper/Louella Parsons-style gossip columnist.
Henry Gibson as:
The Poet - The Poet would hold an oversized flower and read offbeat poems. He pronounced his name "Henrik Ibsen".
The Parson - A character who made ecclesiastical quips and, in 1970, officiated at a near-marriage for Tyrone and Gladys.
Lily Tomlin in a Laugh-In publicity photo.
Lily Tomlin as:
Ernestine/Miss Tomlin - The obnoxious telephone operator with no concern for her customers ("'Fair'? Sir, we don't have to be fair. We're the phone company.").
Edith Ann - A child who frequently said, "And that's the truth", followed by "Pbbbt!" . Tomlin performed her skits in an oversized rocking chair that made her appear small.
"Tasteful" society matron Mrs. Earbore. Mrs. Earbore would express quiet disapproval about a tasteless joke or remark, and then rise from her chair with her legs spread, and sometimes got doused with a bucket of water.
Lily Tomlin later performed Ernestine for Saturday Night Live, and Edith Ann on children's shows such as Sesame Street.
Judy Carne in two robotic speech and movement roles:
Mrs. Robot in "Robot Theater" -- The female companion to Arte Johnson's "Mr. Robot", both equally inept
The talking Judy Doll, usually played with Arte Johnson who never heeded her warning: "Touch my little body, and I hit!"
Henny Youngman telling one-liner jokes for no reason. Often, corny one-liners would be followed by the line, "Oh, that Henny Youngman!"
Alan Sues as Big Al - A clueless and fey sports anchor who loved ringing his bell, which he called his "tinkle", and as hungover children's show host "Uncle Al, The Kiddies' Pal"
Goldie Hawn was the giggling dumb blonde stumbling over her lines, especially when she introduced Dan's "News of the Future".
Jo Anne Worley sometimes sang off-the-wall songs using her loud operatic voice, but is better remembered for her mock outrage at "chicken jokes." Many times, during the Cocktail Parties, she talked about her boyfriend Boris (a married man).
Barbara Sharma as the dancing meter-maid who ticketed anything from trees to baby carriages, and often praised vice president Spiro Agnew, calling him 'Pres-ee-dent Agnew.'
Flip Wilson, whose character, the cross-dressing Geraldine, originated the phrase "What you see is what you get". Another catchphrase was "The devil made me do it". Wilson and his alter ego had their own variety show in the early '70s.
Dan Rowan as General Bull Right - A far-right-wing representative of the military establishment and outlet for political humor.
Richard Dawson as Hawkins the Butler - Would always start his piece by asking "Permission to...?" and proceed to fall over.
The Judge. Originally portrayed by British comic Roddy Maude-Roxby as a stuffy magistrate with black robe and powdered wig. Each "Judge" sketch would feature an unfortunate defendant brought before the court. Guest star Flip Wilson introduced the sketch with "Here come de judge!," the venerable catchphrase of black nightclub comedian Pigmeat Markham. Markham was surprised that his trademark had been appropriated, and he petitioned producer George Schlatter to let him play The Judge himself. Schlatter complied and Markham sat atop the bench for one season. The sketches were briefly retired until another guest star, Sammy Davis, Jr., donned the judicial robe and wig. Davis immediately made The Judge his own, using a drawling dialect reminiscent of "Kingfish" Tim Moore, and enthusiastically playing every courtroom scene broadly. Davis even introduced his own sketches, strutting across a bare stage in Judge regalia and chanting in couplets ("If your lawyer's sleepin', better give him a nudge! Everybody look alive, 'cause here come de judge! Here come de judge! Here come de judge!").
"Verrry Eeen-ter-es-ting!" (said by Arte Johnson as Nazi soldier Wolfgang spying from behind a potted plant)
A six-note pattern preceding a code-word or punchline to an off-color joke, such as "do-doo-doo-da-do-doo ... smack!" or "... family jewels!" (sometimes extended to 18 notes by repeating the GGGDEC pattern two more times before the code-word). This same musical phrase had been used as a "signature" at the end of many pieces played by Spike Jones and his City Slickers.
"I didn't know that." (Dick Martin's occasional response to what happened on an episode)
"Easy for you to say!' (Dan Rowan's reply whenever Dick Martin tripped on his tongue during a joke)
"Ohhh, I'll drink to that." (Martin's response to something Rowan said that he liked.)
"I was wondering if you'd mind if I said something my aunt once said to me." A phrase that Dick Martin would always say to interrupt Dan Rowan's announcements on what would happen during their next show; this phrase was followed by a story about a bizarre situation that his aunt went through.
"Look that up in your Funk and Wagnalls!"
"Go to your room."
"Uncle Al had to take a lot of medicine last night" (line by Uncle Al, the Kiddies' Pal, played by Alan Sues)
"You bet your sweet bippy!"
"Here come de' judge!" (reprising comedian Pigmeat Markham and further popularized by guest stars Flip Wilson and especially Sammy Davis Jr.)
"'Ello, 'ello! NBC, beautiful downtown Burbank" (the response to calls received by a switchboard operator played by Judy Carne). When the series was syndicated in 1983, the NBC logo and the network's name were edited out.
"And that's the truth." (Edith Ann, summarizing whatever she just said, and capping it with a juicy razzberry)
"One ringy-dingy...two ringy-dingies..." (Ernestine's mimicking of the rings while she was waiting for someone to pick up the receiver on the other end of the telephone lines)
"A gracious good afternoon. This is Miss Tomlin of the telephone company. Have I reached the party to whom I am speaking?" Ernestine's greeting to people whom she would call
"I just wanna swing!" Gladys Ormphby's catchphrase
"Is that a chicken joke?" Jo Anne Worley's outraged cry, a takeoff on Polish jokes
"Here comes the big finish, folk!" (usually before the last of a series of a star's bad puns)
"Sock it to me!" experienced its greatest exposure on Laugh-In although the phrase had been featured in songs like Aretha Franklin's 1967 "Respect" and Mitch Ryder's 1966 "Sock It To Me, Baby!"
"Oh, that Henny Youngman"
"Marshall McLuhan...what're you doin'?" (Henry Gibson)
"I don't know. I've never been out with one!" (First introduced by guest star Marcel Marceau, this catch-all punchline would be uttered by any guest star. Goldie: "Are you of the opposite sex?"
Tiny Tim: "I don't know, Miss Goldie, I've never been out with one.")
"Blow in my ear and I'll follow you anywhere."
"Now, that's a no-no!"
"Tune in next week when Henny Youngman's wife burns Jell-o!"
"If [so-and-so] married [what's-his-name], divorced him and married {etc.}" The purpose being to try to set up a tongue-twister, involving the last names of celebrities. Example: "If Rosemary Clooney married Regis Toomey. divorced him and married Mickey Rooney, divorced him and married Paul Muni, divorced him and re-married Regis Toomey, she'd be Rosemary Clooney Toomey Rooney Muni Toomey!"
"Morgul the Friendly Drelb" (a pink Abominable Snowman-like character that appeared in the first episode and bombed so badly that his name was used in various announcements by Gary Owens for the rest of the series (usually at the end of the opening cast list, right after Owens himself: "Yours truly, Gary Owens, and Morgul as the Friendly Drelb!") and credited as the author of a paperback collection of the show's sketches)
"That's the most beautiful thing I ever heard."
"Ring my chimes!"
"Want a Walnetto?", was a pick-up line Tyrone would try on Gladys, which always resulted in a purse drubbing.
Arte Johnson portrayed a number of recurring characters, including:
Wolfgang the German soldier - Wolfgang would comment on the previous gag by saying "Verrry interesting", sometimes with comments such as "...but shtupid!" He eventually would close each show by talking to Lucille Ball as well as the cast of Gunsmoke — both airing opposite Laugh-In on CBS; as well as whatever was on ABC. Johnson would later repeat the line while playing Nazi-themed supervillain Virman Vundabar on an episode of Justice League Unlimited.
Tyrone F. Horneigh (pronounced "hor-NIGH," presumably to satisfy the censors) - A dirty old man coming on to Gladys Ormphby (Ruth Buzzi) seated on a park bench, who almost invariably clobbered him with her purse. Sample exchange:
Tyrone: Do you believe in the hereafter?
Gladys: Of course I do!
Tyrone: Good. Then you know what I'm here after!
(Both the Tyrone and Gladys characters went into animated form in the "Nitwits" segments of the 1977 animated television show "Baggy Pants and the Nitwits")
Piotr Rosmenko, the Eastern European Man - Piotr stood stiffly and nervously in an ill-fitting suit while commenting on differences between America and "the old country," such as "Here in America, is very good, everyone watch television. In old country, television watches you!" This predated a similar schtick by Yakov Smirnoff. Occasionally guest star Sammy Davis, Jr. teamed with Johnson as "The Rosmenko Twins."
Rabbi Shankar (a pun on Ravi Shankar), an Indian guru - Dressed in a Nehru jacket dispensing pseudo-mystical Eastern wisdom laden with bad puns. He held up two fingers in a peace sign whenever he spoke.
An unnamed man in a yellow raincoat and hat, riding a tricycle. The image of him pedaling, then tipping over and falling, was frequently used between sketches. (Judy Carne was once reported to have said that every member of the cast took turns riding the tricycle at one time or another.)
Announcer Gary Owens standing in an old-time radio studio with his hand cupped over his ear, making announcements, often with little relation to the rest of the show, such as (in an overly-dramatic voice), "Earlier that evening..."
Ruth Buzzi in many roles, including:
Gladys Ormphby - A drab, though relatively young spinster who was the eternal target of Arte Johnson's Tyrone; when Johnson left the series, Gladys retreated into recurring daydreams, often involving marriages to historical figures, including Christopher Columbus and Benjamin Franklin (both played by Alan Sues).
Doris Swizzle - A seedy barfly paired with her husband, Leonard Swizzle, played by Dick Martin.
Busy Buzzi - A Hedda Hopper/Louella Parsons-style gossip columnist.
Henry Gibson as:
The Poet - The Poet would hold an oversized flower and read offbeat poems. He pronounced his name "Henrik Ibsen".
The Parson - A character who made ecclesiastical quips and, in 1970, officiated at a near-marriage for Tyrone and Gladys.
Lily Tomlin in a Laugh-In publicity photo.
Lily Tomlin as:
Ernestine/Miss Tomlin - The obnoxious telephone operator with no concern for her customers ("'Fair'? Sir, we don't have to be fair. We're the phone company.").
Edith Ann - A child who frequently said, "And that's the truth", followed by "Pbbbt!" . Tomlin performed her skits in an oversized rocking chair that made her appear small.
"Tasteful" society matron Mrs. Earbore. Mrs. Earbore would express quiet disapproval about a tasteless joke or remark, and then rise from her chair with her legs spread, and sometimes got doused with a bucket of water.
Lily Tomlin later performed Ernestine for Saturday Night Live, and Edith Ann on children's shows such as Sesame Street.
Judy Carne in two robotic speech and movement roles:
Mrs. Robot in "Robot Theater" -- The female companion to Arte Johnson's "Mr. Robot", both equally inept
The talking Judy Doll, usually played with Arte Johnson who never heeded her warning: "Touch my little body, and I hit!"
Henny Youngman telling one-liner jokes for no reason. Often, corny one-liners would be followed by the line, "Oh, that Henny Youngman!"
Alan Sues as Big Al - A clueless and fey sports anchor who loved ringing his bell, which he called his "tinkle", and as hungover children's show host "Uncle Al, The Kiddies' Pal"
Goldie Hawn was the giggling dumb blonde stumbling over her lines, especially when she introduced Dan's "News of the Future".
Jo Anne Worley sometimes sang off-the-wall songs using her loud operatic voice, but is better remembered for her mock outrage at "chicken jokes." Many times, during the Cocktail Parties, she talked about her boyfriend Boris (a married man).
Barbara Sharma as the dancing meter-maid who ticketed anything from trees to baby carriages, and often praised vice president Spiro Agnew, calling him 'Pres-ee-dent Agnew.'
Flip Wilson, whose character, the cross-dressing Geraldine, originated the phrase "What you see is what you get". Another catchphrase was "The devil made me do it". Wilson and his alter ego had their own variety show in the early '70s.
Dan Rowan as General Bull Right - A far-right-wing representative of the military establishment and outlet for political humor.
Richard Dawson as Hawkins the Butler - Would always start his piece by asking "Permission to...?" and proceed to fall over.
The Judge. Originally portrayed by British comic Roddy Maude-Roxby as a stuffy magistrate with black robe and powdered wig. Each "Judge" sketch would feature an unfortunate defendant brought before the court. Guest star Flip Wilson introduced the sketch with "Here come de judge!," the venerable catchphrase of black nightclub comedian Pigmeat Markham. Markham was surprised that his trademark had been appropriated, and he petitioned producer George Schlatter to let him play The Judge himself. Schlatter complied and Markham sat atop the bench for one season. The sketches were briefly retired until another guest star, Sammy Davis, Jr., donned the judicial robe and wig. Davis immediately made The Judge his own, using a drawling dialect reminiscent of "Kingfish" Tim Moore, and enthusiastically playing every courtroom scene broadly. Davis even introduced his own sketches, strutting across a bare stage in Judge regalia and chanting in couplets ("If your lawyer's sleepin', better give him a nudge! Everybody look alive, 'cause here come de judge! Here come de judge! Here come de judge!").
"Verrry Eeen-ter-es-ting!" (said by Arte Johnson as Nazi soldier Wolfgang spying from behind a potted plant)
A six-note pattern preceding a code-word or punchline to an off-color joke, such as "do-doo-doo-da-do-doo ... smack!" or "... family jewels!" (sometimes extended to 18 notes by repeating the GGGDEC pattern two more times before the code-word). This same musical phrase had been used as a "signature" at the end of many pieces played by Spike Jones and his City Slickers.
"I didn't know that." (Dick Martin's occasional response to what happened on an episode)
"Easy for you to say!' (Dan Rowan's reply whenever Dick Martin tripped on his tongue during a joke)
"Ohhh, I'll drink to that." (Martin's response to something Rowan said that he liked.)
"I was wondering if you'd mind if I said something my aunt once said to me." A phrase that Dick Martin would always say to interrupt Dan Rowan's announcements on what would happen during their next show; this phrase was followed by a story about a bizarre situation that his aunt went through.
"Look that up in your Funk and Wagnalls!"
"Go to your room."
"Uncle Al had to take a lot of medicine last night" (line by Uncle Al, the Kiddies' Pal, played by Alan Sues)
"You bet your sweet bippy!"
"Here come de' judge!" (reprising comedian Pigmeat Markham and further popularized by guest stars Flip Wilson and especially Sammy Davis Jr.)
"'Ello, 'ello! NBC, beautiful downtown Burbank" (the response to calls received by a switchboard operator played by Judy Carne). When the series was syndicated in 1983, the NBC logo and the network's name were edited out.
"And that's the truth." (Edith Ann, summarizing whatever she just said, and capping it with a juicy razzberry)
"One ringy-dingy...two ringy-dingies..." (Ernestine's mimicking of the rings while she was waiting for someone to pick up the receiver on the other end of the telephone lines)
"A gracious good afternoon. This is Miss Tomlin of the telephone company. Have I reached the party to whom I am speaking?" Ernestine's greeting to people whom she would call
"I just wanna swing!" Gladys Ormphby's catchphrase
"Is that a chicken joke?" Jo Anne Worley's outraged cry, a takeoff on Polish jokes
"Here comes the big finish, folk!" (usually before the last of a series of a star's bad puns)
"Sock it to me!" experienced its greatest exposure on Laugh-In although the phrase had been featured in songs like Aretha Franklin's 1967 "Respect" and Mitch Ryder's 1966 "Sock It To Me, Baby!"
"Oh, that Henny Youngman"
"Marshall McLuhan...what're you doin'?" (Henry Gibson)
"I don't know. I've never been out with one!" (First introduced by guest star Marcel Marceau, this catch-all punchline would be uttered by any guest star. Goldie: "Are you of the opposite sex?"
Tiny Tim: "I don't know, Miss Goldie, I've never been out with one.")
"Blow in my ear and I'll follow you anywhere."
"Now, that's a no-no!"
"Tune in next week when Henny Youngman's wife burns Jell-o!"
"If [so-and-so] married [what's-his-name], divorced him and married {etc.}" The purpose being to try to set up a tongue-twister, involving the last names of celebrities. Example: "If Rosemary Clooney married Regis Toomey. divorced him and married Mickey Rooney, divorced him and married Paul Muni, divorced him and re-married Regis Toomey, she'd be Rosemary Clooney Toomey Rooney Muni Toomey!"
"Morgul the Friendly Drelb" (a pink Abominable Snowman-like character that appeared in the first episode and bombed so badly that his name was used in various announcements by Gary Owens for the rest of the series (usually at the end of the opening cast list, right after Owens himself: "Yours truly, Gary Owens, and Morgul as the Friendly Drelb!") and credited as the author of a paperback collection of the show's sketches)
"That's the most beautiful thing I ever heard."
"Ring my chimes!"
"Want a Walnetto?", was a pick-up line Tyrone would try on Gladys, which always resulted in a purse drubbing.
R&M LAUGH IN: Format
A typical episode's format
Shortly after the beginning of the show, after a minute or two of Rowan/Martin standup, Rowan would intone: "C'mon Dick, let's go to the party". This live-to-tape segment comprised all cast members and occasional surprise celebrities dancing before a 1960s "Mod" party backdrop, delivering one- and two-line jokes interspersed with a few bars of dance music (later adopted on The Muppet Show, has an end-credits scene that is similar to "The Cocktail Party" with absurd moments from characters).
"The Mod, Mod World" segment, with its own signature tune, comprised brief sketches on a theme interspersed with film footage of female cast members go-go dancing in bikinis, their bodies painted with punchy phrases and pithy wordplay. The dancers were usually Goldie Hawn, Judy Carne and Chelsea Brown; Ruth Buzzi and Jo Anne Worley popped up rarely, as did frequent guest Pamela Austin. In the 1969/1970 season, the chore was handled briefly by new cast members Teresa Graves and Pamela Rodgers before the go-go dancing became the domain of uncredited extras.)
The Farkel Family, a couple with many kids —all of whom had flaming red hair and freckles like neighbor Ferd Berfel (played by Dick Martin). Head of the family Frank Farkel never questioned this fact when Ferd visited. Most plots were excuses to force the cast into tongue-twisters ("That's a fine-looking Farkel flinger you found there, Frank"). Bespectacled baby daughter Flicker Farkel (played by Buzzi) had no lines except screaming "Hiiii!!!" Two of the kids were twins named Simon and Gar Farkel (played by cast members of different races; originally Goldie Hawn and Chelsea Brown, later Pamela Rodgers and Teresa Graves).
"Laugh-In Looks at the News," a parody of network news (introduced by an unnews-like song and dance in varying motifs) commenting on current events. The segment often included "News of the Past" which lampooned historical events, and "News of the Future", predicting unlikely or bizarre future stories to comic effect. Rowan actually nailed some, mentioning "President Ronald Reagan" in a story from "1988, 20 years from now", eliciting laughter. Another prediction, that the Berlin Wall would be destroyed in 1989, also came true, although the follow-up gag that it would be "quickly replaced by a moat full of alligators" obviously did not. The news segment was reminiscent of BBC's earlier That Was the Week That Was and in turn, was echoed a few years later by Saturday Night Live's "Weekend Update" segments. Saturday Night Live creator Lorne Michaels was a Laugh-In writer early in his career.
New Talent Time, introducing oddball variety acts. The most famous of these performers was Tiny Tim. Comedian Paul Gilbert, father of actress Melissa Gilbert, appeared as inept "French" juggler "Paul Gilbert" (pronounced "jheel-bare" in the French manner). Comic Art Metrano appeared as "The Great Metrano," a so-called magician who had no skill at all. Laugh-In writer Chris Beard liked the "New Talent" concept and later developed it into The Gong Show.
The Flying Fickle Finger of Fate Award, saluting actual dubious achievements by the government or famous people. The trophy was a gilt, outstretched finger atop a square base. "The flying, fickle finger of fate" was already a familiar catchphrase on the show (Dan Rowan would use the phrase when ushering "new talent" like Tiny Tim on stage).
Judy Carne was often tricked into saying "Sock it to me", which led to her being doused with water or otherwise assaulted. "Sock it to me" also became a catchphrase. During the September 16, 1968 episode, Richard Nixon, running for president, appeared for a few seconds with a disbelieving vocal inflection, asking "Sock it to me?" Nixon was not doused or assaulted. An invitation was extended to Nixon's opponent, Vice-President Hubert Humphrey, but he declined. According to George Schlatter, the show's creator, "Humphrey later said that not doing it may have cost him the election."
At the end of every show, Dan Rowan turned to his co-host and said, "Say good night, Dick", to which Martin replied, "Good night, Dick!" (varying a bit from the old George Burns and Gracie Allen radio show). The show then featured cast members opening panels in a psychedelically painted 'joke wall' and telling jokes. As the show drew to a close and the applause died, executive producer George Schlatter's clapping continued even as the screen turned blank and the production logo, network chimes, and NBC logo appeared.
Shortly after the beginning of the show, after a minute or two of Rowan/Martin standup, Rowan would intone: "C'mon Dick, let's go to the party". This live-to-tape segment comprised all cast members and occasional surprise celebrities dancing before a 1960s "Mod" party backdrop, delivering one- and two-line jokes interspersed with a few bars of dance music (later adopted on The Muppet Show, has an end-credits scene that is similar to "The Cocktail Party" with absurd moments from characters).
"The Mod, Mod World" segment, with its own signature tune, comprised brief sketches on a theme interspersed with film footage of female cast members go-go dancing in bikinis, their bodies painted with punchy phrases and pithy wordplay. The dancers were usually Goldie Hawn, Judy Carne and Chelsea Brown; Ruth Buzzi and Jo Anne Worley popped up rarely, as did frequent guest Pamela Austin. In the 1969/1970 season, the chore was handled briefly by new cast members Teresa Graves and Pamela Rodgers before the go-go dancing became the domain of uncredited extras.)
The Farkel Family, a couple with many kids —all of whom had flaming red hair and freckles like neighbor Ferd Berfel (played by Dick Martin). Head of the family Frank Farkel never questioned this fact when Ferd visited. Most plots were excuses to force the cast into tongue-twisters ("That's a fine-looking Farkel flinger you found there, Frank"). Bespectacled baby daughter Flicker Farkel (played by Buzzi) had no lines except screaming "Hiiii!!!" Two of the kids were twins named Simon and Gar Farkel (played by cast members of different races; originally Goldie Hawn and Chelsea Brown, later Pamela Rodgers and Teresa Graves).
"Laugh-In Looks at the News," a parody of network news (introduced by an unnews-like song and dance in varying motifs) commenting on current events. The segment often included "News of the Past" which lampooned historical events, and "News of the Future", predicting unlikely or bizarre future stories to comic effect. Rowan actually nailed some, mentioning "President Ronald Reagan" in a story from "1988, 20 years from now", eliciting laughter. Another prediction, that the Berlin Wall would be destroyed in 1989, also came true, although the follow-up gag that it would be "quickly replaced by a moat full of alligators" obviously did not. The news segment was reminiscent of BBC's earlier That Was the Week That Was and in turn, was echoed a few years later by Saturday Night Live's "Weekend Update" segments. Saturday Night Live creator Lorne Michaels was a Laugh-In writer early in his career.
New Talent Time, introducing oddball variety acts. The most famous of these performers was Tiny Tim. Comedian Paul Gilbert, father of actress Melissa Gilbert, appeared as inept "French" juggler "Paul Gilbert" (pronounced "jheel-bare" in the French manner). Comic Art Metrano appeared as "The Great Metrano," a so-called magician who had no skill at all. Laugh-In writer Chris Beard liked the "New Talent" concept and later developed it into The Gong Show.
The Flying Fickle Finger of Fate Award, saluting actual dubious achievements by the government or famous people. The trophy was a gilt, outstretched finger atop a square base. "The flying, fickle finger of fate" was already a familiar catchphrase on the show (Dan Rowan would use the phrase when ushering "new talent" like Tiny Tim on stage).
Judy Carne was often tricked into saying "Sock it to me", which led to her being doused with water or otherwise assaulted. "Sock it to me" also became a catchphrase. During the September 16, 1968 episode, Richard Nixon, running for president, appeared for a few seconds with a disbelieving vocal inflection, asking "Sock it to me?" Nixon was not doused or assaulted. An invitation was extended to Nixon's opponent, Vice-President Hubert Humphrey, but he declined. According to George Schlatter, the show's creator, "Humphrey later said that not doing it may have cost him the election."
At the end of every show, Dan Rowan turned to his co-host and said, "Say good night, Dick", to which Martin replied, "Good night, Dick!" (varying a bit from the old George Burns and Gracie Allen radio show). The show then featured cast members opening panels in a psychedelically painted 'joke wall' and telling jokes. As the show drew to a close and the applause died, executive producer George Schlatter's clapping continued even as the screen turned blank and the production logo, network chimes, and NBC logo appeared.
R&M LAUGH IN: Cast
Regular performers (with season numbers, where known)
All seasons: Dan Rowan, host
All seasons: Dick Martin, host
All seasons: Gary Owens, announcer
All seasons: Ruth Buzzi
Season 1: Eileen Brennan (1968)
Season 1, 2, 3: Judy Carne (1968-1970)
Season 1, 2, 3, 4: Henry Gibson (1968-1971)
Season 1, 2, 3: Goldie Hawn (1968-1970)
Season 1, 5: Larry Hovis (1968, 1971-1972)
Season 1, 2, 3, 4: Arte Johnson (1968-1971)
Season 1: Roddy Maude-Roxby (1968)
Season 1, 2, 3: Jo Anne Worley (1968-1970)
Season 2, 3, 4, 5: Alan Sues (1968-1972)
Season 2: "The Fun Couple" Charlie Brill and Mitzi McCall (1968-1969)
Season 2: Chelsea Brown (1968-1969)
Season 2: Dave Madden (1968-1969)
Season 2: Pigmeat Markham (1968-1969)
Season 2: Dick "Sweet Brother" Whittington (actor/disc jockey) (1968-1969)
Season 2, 3: Byron Gilliam (1969-1970; uncredited in season 2, returned as dancer only in 5)
Season 3: Teresa Graves (1969-1970)
Season 3: Jeremy Lloyd (1969-1970)
Season 3: Pamela Rodgers (1969-1970)
Season 3: Stu Gilliam (1970)
Season 3, 4, 5, 6: Lily Tomlin (1969-1973)
Season 3, 4, 5 Johnny Brown (1970-1972)
Season 4, 5: Dennis Allen (1970-1973)
Season 4, 5: Ann Elder (1970-1972)
Season 4: Nancie Phillips (1970-1971)
Season 4, 5: Barbara Sharma (1970-1972)
Season 4: Harvey Jason (1970-1971)
Season 4, 5, 6: Richard Dawson (1971-1973; also one appearance in Season 1)
Season 6: Moosie Drier (1971-1973)
Season 6: Tod Bass (1972-1973)
Season 6: Brian Bressler (1972-1973)
Season 6: Patti Deutsch (1972-1973)
Season 6: Lisa Farringer (1972-1973)
Season 6: Sarah Kennedy (1972-1973)
Season 6: Jud Strunk (1972-1973)
Season 6: Willie Tyler (1972-1973)
Season 6: Donna Jean Young (1972-1973)
[edit]Regular Guest Performers
Jack Benny (1968-1970, 1972)
Johnny Carson (1968-1970, 1971, 1973)
Sammy Davis Jr. (1968-1970, 1971, 1973)
Zsa Zsa Gabor (1968-1970)
Peter Lawford (1968-1971)
Tiny Tim (1968-1970, 1971-1972)
John Wayne (1968, 1971-1973)
Flip Wilson (1968-1970)
Henny Youngman (1968-1969, 1971-1973)
[edit]Full list of celebrity guest performers
[edit]1968
Leo G. Carroll
Barbara Feldon
Lorne Greene
Buddy Hackett
Sheldon Leonard
The Strawberry Alarm Clock
Robert Culp
Kenny Rogers & The First Edition
Tom Smothers
Tim Conway
Sonny & Cher
Paul Gilbert
Don Adams
The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Douglas Fairbanks Jr.
Walter Slezak
Kaye Ballard
Richard Dawson
Dinah Shore
The Temptations
Jerry Lewis
Leonard Nimoy
Edward Platt
Connie Stevens
Larry Storch
Paul Williams
Sally Field
Terry-Thomas
Joby Baker
Godfrey Cambridge
Anissa Jones
Pat Morita
Paul Winchell
Elgin Baylor
Harry Belafonte
Joey Bishop
Regis Philbin
The Bee Gees
Ed McMahon
John Byner
Hugh Downs
James Garner
Shelley Berman
Milton Berle
Jill St. John
Hugh Hefner
Bob Hope
Jack Lemmon
Richard Nixon
Sonny Tufts
Herb Alpert
Eve Arden
Arlene Dahl
George Kirby
Patrick Wayne
Nick Castle
Greer Garson
Abbe Lane
Greg Morris
Otto Preminger
Michael Wayne
Kirk Douglas
Lena Horne
Liberace
France Nuyen
Bobby Darin
Rosemary Clooney
Mitzi Gaynor
The Holy Modal Rounders
Colonel Sanders
Van Johnson
Werner Klemperer
Bill Dana
Jimmy Dean
Marcel Marceau
George Gobel
Dick Gregory
Rock Hudson
Rod Serling
Victor Borge
Phil Harris
Perry Como
Joseph Cotten
Phyllis Diller
Vincent Price
Tony Curtis
Cliff Robertson
Barbara Bain
Billy Barty
Martin Landau
Guy Lombardo
Nanette Fabray
George Jessel
Bob Newhart
Rich Little
Kate Smith
[edit]1969
Peter Falk
Marcel Marceau
Garry Moore
Paul Winchell
Perry Como
David Janssen
Van Johnson
George Gobel
Guy Lombardo
Richard and Pat Nixon
Nancy Sinatra
The Smothers Brothers
Tony Curtis
Frank Gorshin
George Jessel
Janos Prohaska
Tom Kennedy
Liberace
Rich Little
Don Rickles
Cliff Robertson
Greer Garson
The Monkees (Without Peter Tork)
Nipsey Russell
Robert Wagner
James Drury
James Garner
Gina Lollobrigida
Doug McClure
Mel Brooks
Lena Horne
Rock Hudson
Bob Newhart
Connie Stevens
Ann Miller
Shelley Winters
Forrest Tucker
Werner Klemperer
Laurence Harvey
Billy Graham
Debbie Reynolds
Peter Sellers
Michael Caine
Bob Hope
Sonny & Cher
Mitzi Gaynor
Jack E. Leonard
Lana Wood
Anne Jackson
Romy Schneider
Eli Wallach
Buddy Hackett
Carol Channing
Diana Ross
Tennessee Ernie Ford
Sid Caesar
Engelbert Humperdinck
Jill St. John
Roger Moore
Jacqueline Susann
Lorne Greene
Ed McMahon
Frank Sinatra, Jr.
All seasons: Dan Rowan, host
All seasons: Dick Martin, host
All seasons: Gary Owens, announcer
All seasons: Ruth Buzzi
Season 1: Eileen Brennan (1968)
Season 1, 2, 3: Judy Carne (1968-1970)
Season 1, 2, 3, 4: Henry Gibson (1968-1971)
Season 1, 2, 3: Goldie Hawn (1968-1970)
Season 1, 5: Larry Hovis (1968, 1971-1972)
Season 1, 2, 3, 4: Arte Johnson (1968-1971)
Season 1: Roddy Maude-Roxby (1968)
Season 1, 2, 3: Jo Anne Worley (1968-1970)
Season 2, 3, 4, 5: Alan Sues (1968-1972)
Season 2: "The Fun Couple" Charlie Brill and Mitzi McCall (1968-1969)
Season 2: Chelsea Brown (1968-1969)
Season 2: Dave Madden (1968-1969)
Season 2: Pigmeat Markham (1968-1969)
Season 2: Dick "Sweet Brother" Whittington (actor/disc jockey) (1968-1969)
Season 2, 3: Byron Gilliam (1969-1970; uncredited in season 2, returned as dancer only in 5)
Season 3: Teresa Graves (1969-1970)
Season 3: Jeremy Lloyd (1969-1970)
Season 3: Pamela Rodgers (1969-1970)
Season 3: Stu Gilliam (1970)
Season 3, 4, 5, 6: Lily Tomlin (1969-1973)
Season 3, 4, 5 Johnny Brown (1970-1972)
Season 4, 5: Dennis Allen (1970-1973)
Season 4, 5: Ann Elder (1970-1972)
Season 4: Nancie Phillips (1970-1971)
Season 4, 5: Barbara Sharma (1970-1972)
Season 4: Harvey Jason (1970-1971)
Season 4, 5, 6: Richard Dawson (1971-1973; also one appearance in Season 1)
Season 6: Moosie Drier (1971-1973)
Season 6: Tod Bass (1972-1973)
Season 6: Brian Bressler (1972-1973)
Season 6: Patti Deutsch (1972-1973)
Season 6: Lisa Farringer (1972-1973)
Season 6: Sarah Kennedy (1972-1973)
Season 6: Jud Strunk (1972-1973)
Season 6: Willie Tyler (1972-1973)
Season 6: Donna Jean Young (1972-1973)
[edit]Regular Guest Performers
Jack Benny (1968-1970, 1972)
Johnny Carson (1968-1970, 1971, 1973)
Sammy Davis Jr. (1968-1970, 1971, 1973)
Zsa Zsa Gabor (1968-1970)
Peter Lawford (1968-1971)
Tiny Tim (1968-1970, 1971-1972)
John Wayne (1968, 1971-1973)
Flip Wilson (1968-1970)
Henny Youngman (1968-1969, 1971-1973)
[edit]Full list of celebrity guest performers
[edit]1968
Leo G. Carroll
Barbara Feldon
Lorne Greene
Buddy Hackett
Sheldon Leonard
The Strawberry Alarm Clock
Robert Culp
Kenny Rogers & The First Edition
Tom Smothers
Tim Conway
Sonny & Cher
Paul Gilbert
Don Adams
The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Douglas Fairbanks Jr.
Walter Slezak
Kaye Ballard
Richard Dawson
Dinah Shore
The Temptations
Jerry Lewis
Leonard Nimoy
Edward Platt
Connie Stevens
Larry Storch
Paul Williams
Sally Field
Terry-Thomas
Joby Baker
Godfrey Cambridge
Anissa Jones
Pat Morita
Paul Winchell
Elgin Baylor
Harry Belafonte
Joey Bishop
Regis Philbin
The Bee Gees
Ed McMahon
John Byner
Hugh Downs
James Garner
Shelley Berman
Milton Berle
Jill St. John
Hugh Hefner
Bob Hope
Jack Lemmon
Richard Nixon
Sonny Tufts
Herb Alpert
Eve Arden
Arlene Dahl
George Kirby
Patrick Wayne
Nick Castle
Greer Garson
Abbe Lane
Greg Morris
Otto Preminger
Michael Wayne
Kirk Douglas
Lena Horne
Liberace
France Nuyen
Bobby Darin
Rosemary Clooney
Mitzi Gaynor
The Holy Modal Rounders
Colonel Sanders
Van Johnson
Werner Klemperer
Bill Dana
Jimmy Dean
Marcel Marceau
George Gobel
Dick Gregory
Rock Hudson
Rod Serling
Victor Borge
Phil Harris
Perry Como
Joseph Cotten
Phyllis Diller
Vincent Price
Tony Curtis
Cliff Robertson
Barbara Bain
Billy Barty
Martin Landau
Guy Lombardo
Nanette Fabray
George Jessel
Bob Newhart
Rich Little
Kate Smith
[edit]1969
Peter Falk
Marcel Marceau
Garry Moore
Paul Winchell
Perry Como
David Janssen
Van Johnson
George Gobel
Guy Lombardo
Richard and Pat Nixon
Nancy Sinatra
The Smothers Brothers
Tony Curtis
Frank Gorshin
George Jessel
Janos Prohaska
Tom Kennedy
Liberace
Rich Little
Don Rickles
Cliff Robertson
Greer Garson
The Monkees (Without Peter Tork)
Nipsey Russell
Robert Wagner
James Drury
James Garner
Gina Lollobrigida
Doug McClure
Mel Brooks
Lena Horne
Rock Hudson
Bob Newhart
Connie Stevens
Ann Miller
Shelley Winters
Forrest Tucker
Werner Klemperer
Laurence Harvey
Billy Graham
Debbie Reynolds
Peter Sellers
Michael Caine
Bob Hope
Sonny & Cher
Mitzi Gaynor
Jack E. Leonard
Lana Wood
Anne Jackson
Romy Schneider
Eli Wallach
Buddy Hackett
Carol Channing
Diana Ross
Tennessee Ernie Ford
Sid Caesar
Engelbert Humperdinck
Jill St. John
Roger Moore
Jacqueline Susann
Lorne Greene
Ed McMahon
Frank Sinatra, Jr.
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