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editor
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 Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2006 8:06 pm Post subject: The Will to Win |
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WELCOME!
The Will to Win:
Something Fishy
Paperback
By Prune Gnasher Steelschack
| Quote: | "Yer met her for the first time today after fifteen years, and yer say she's an angel?"
"I do."
"Didn't take yer long to make up yer mind."
"One glance at that divine face was enough."
"She's pretty, of course."
"You understate it. How in the space of a few brief years she can have succeeded in converting herself from the gargoyle of 1939 to the radiant, lovely, glamorous, superlative girl she is today simply beats me. It's the nearest thing to a miracle I ever struck. It just shows what can be done if you have the right spirit and the will to win." (-- p.102) |
Too right, young Bill Hollister, whose remarks were directed at his beloved's uncle, the rotund criminal Lord Uffenham, a senior citizen who, as yet unbeknownst to the local constabulary, has gone and painted an imperial black beard on his neighbor's sculpture of a naked fat lady! Sh-shshsh!
Link to this this entry
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| Posted: Thu Mar 16, 2006 10:51 am Post subject: |
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The Tent
Hardcover
By Margaret Atwood
| Quote: | But what was the story? It was a tale of revenge, that much was clear. A wrong had been done, or it appeared to have been done. Hamlet said, as I recall, "O cursed spite that ever I was born to set it right," or something like that. But through morose dithering combined with sudden rash actions, he ended up killing quite a few more people than ought to have been killed, even according to the rather loose guidelines of honour as then constituted.
This often happens, as I've observed during the course of my now entirely too-long life. The Hatfields and the McCoys go at it, turn and turn about, until no one's left standing. Countries are similar. "Two wrongs don't make a right," I have often said while standing deliberately in the line of fire during these small, medium, and large payback events, but few have ever listened to me. An eye for an eye is their idea. A head for a head, a bomb for a bomb, a city for a city. Human beings - I've observed - are hot-wired for scorekeeping, and since they like to win, they're always going one better than the other fellow.
Excuse me. Not one better. One more. (From Horatio's Version at pgs. 116-117) |
Discovering Hamlet
VHS
Derek Jacobi directs Kenneth Branagh
in a Birmingham stage performance,
a pre-cursor to the latter's subsequent
film version.
More PokerPulse reviews of our favorite play.
Link to this this entry
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| Posted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 4:14 pm Post subject: |
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Temporary Shelter
Short Stories
Hardcover
By Mary Gordon
| Quote: | | It was something Maria had wanted badly. She was not like him. When something rose up before her eyes as if it were a figure on a road whe was approaching, she would run to it the way she always ran, headlong and holding nothing back, the way she ran in games, and in the garden on a summer night, just for the pleasure. How beautiful she looked then after running, her hair falling out of her barrette, the sweat that beaded in the cleft above her lip like seed pearls, her white cheeks flushed as if a wing had touched them, a wing dipped in roses. Or in blood. No one could beat her when she ran; it was one reason why the other children in the neighborhood didn't want to play with her. She had to win, and she held nothing back. It didn't bother Joseph; he was glad to let her win. He understood her rages when she lost; the things she said were horrible; sometimes she hit him hard, wanting to hurt. He knew just what she felt. She felt that it was meant for her to win, so when she lost it was as if some plan had been spoiled or some promise broken. And then she was so sorry afterwards, she came to him with such important gifts, wonderful gifts, thought up in heaven. (From the title story at p. 10) |
Link to this this entry
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| Posted: Mon May 15, 2006 9:32 am Post subject: |
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The Narrow Corner
Hardcover
By W. Somerset Maugham
| Quote: | 'Well, we sailed all the way up the coast, inside the Bank, of course, fine weather and all that, nice breeze, and I said to the kid: "What about a game of cribbage?" Had to pass the time somehow, you know, and I knew 'e'd got a good bit of money. I didn't see why I shouldn't 'ave some of it. I've played cribbage all me life, and I thought I got a sort of thing on. I believe the devil's in them cards. D'you know, I 'aven't 'ad a winnin' day since we left Sydney. I've lost a matter of seventy pounds, I 'ave. And it's not as if 'e could play. It's the devil's own luck he's got.'
'Perhaps he plays better than you think.'
'Don't you believe it. What I don't know about cribbage ain't worth knowin'. D'you think I'd 'ave took him on if I 'adn't known that? No, it's luck, and luck can't go on for ever. It's bound to change and then I'll get back all I've lost and all he's got besides. It's aggravatin', of course, but I ain't worryin'. (-- p. 67) |
Link to this this entry
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| Posted: Mon May 15, 2006 10:47 am Post subject: |
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A Few Quick Ones
Paperback
By Prune Gnasher Steelschack
| Quote: | | Bingo, always on the lookout for omens and portents, leaped in his seat. Any lingering doubts he may have entertained as to the advisability of arranging that loan with Algernon Aubrey vanished. Obviously this was going to be his lucky night, and he would be vastly surprised if on the morrow he would not be able to pay twenty or thirty pounds into the other's wee little deposit account. (From The Word in Season at pg. 99) |
A Few Quick Ones
Audio CD
Narrated by our favorite Wodehouse
reader, Jonathan Cecil
Link to this entry
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| Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 9:17 am Post subject: |
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Joan of Arc
Hardcover
By Mary Gordon
| Quote: | | What are we to make of the Battle of Orleans, and what does it tell us about Joan? Certainly it doesn't suggest that she was a great tactician, as none of the important military decisions were made by her. Some of what she did seems naive, as when she was duped by the soldiers dressing as priests, and some of the events happened without her bidding, as when Le Basque took her standard and she followed it. What the battle does indicate, indisputably, is her extraordinary physical courage and stamina, her genius for recovery. And it tells us that, both for the French and for the English, she was a presence whose importance and power stemmed not from any traceable action or behavior but from an atmosphere that preceded and surrounded her. So it was not necessary for her to do one thing rather than another; it was necessary only that she be there. And it was necessary that she win. The French needed someone to break through their paralysis. She broke through and handed them victory. If she had not been victorious, the story would have ended there. (-- pgs. 55-56) |
Link to this entry
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| Posted: Mon Oct 16, 2006 12:41 pm Post subject: |
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Wodehouse on Wodehouse
Autobiography
Hardcover
| Quote: | In an armchair in the corner there is sitting a man in shirtsleeves, chewing an enormous (unlighted) cigar. He is fifty-five years old and for twenty-five of those years he has been an impresario of musical comedy. Lending to the discussion the authority of long experience and uttering the slogan which he probably learned at his mother's knee, he says, 'Bring on the girls!'
It is the panacea that never fails. It dates back, according to the great Bert Williams, to the days of ancient Egypt.
'When one of those Pharaohs died,' he used to explain to his partner Walker, 'they'd bring in wine - finest wine in the country - and they'd put it beside him. Then they'd bring in rich food that smelled just beautiful an' put that on the other side of him. Then they'd bring on the girls, an' those girls would do the veil-dance. An' if that ole Phaaoh didn't sit right up and take notice then...brother, he was dead.'
The impresario has his way. The girls are brought on.
And how wonderful those girls always were. They did not spare themselves. You might get the impression that they were afflicted by some form of chorea, but the dullest eye could see that they were giving of their best. Actors might walk through their parts, singers save their voices, but the personnel of the ensemble never failed to go all out, full of pep, energy and the will to win. A hundred shows have been pushed by them over the thin line that divides the floperoo from the socko.
It is for this reason that Bolton (Guy) and Wodehouse (P.G.), looking back over their years of toil in the musical comedy salt-mines, raise their glasses and without hesitation or heel-taps drink this toast: To the Girls!
And they feel that the least they can do in gratitude for all their hard work is to honour them in the title of this book. (From Bring on the Girls! at pgs. 9-10) |
Link to this entry
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| Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 2:54 pm Post subject: |
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Cocktail Time
A Novel About a Novel
Hardcover
By P.G. Wodehouse
| Quote: | "Well, I'm delighted, my dear fellow, that all is well again between you (Beefy Bastable, Q.C.) and Barbara (Crowe, literary agent)," he (Uncle Fred) said. "If there is one thing that braces me up, it is to see two sundered hearts come together, whether it be in springtime or somewhat later in the year. Oh, blessings on the falling out that all the more endears, as the fellow said. But there's one thing you must budget for, Beefy, when you marry Barbara, and this may come as something of a shock to you. You will have to be prepared to start work on another book."
"What!"
"Well, of course."
"But, I can't."
"You'll have to. If you think you can write a novel and sell it for a hundred and fifty thousand dollars and marry a literary agent and not have her make you sit down on your trouser seat and write another, you sadly underestimate the determination and will to win of literary agents. You won't have a moment's peace till you take pen in hand." (-- pgs. 216-217) |
Cocktail Time
Audio CD
Narrated by our favorite Wodehouse reader,
Jonathan Cecil
Link to this entry
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| Posted: Sun Sep 02, 2007 10:35 am Post subject: |
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Summer Lightning
Paperback
By P.G. Wodehouse
| Quote: | The brooding look in his sister's (Lady Constance Keeble's) eyes deepened.
'I met Sir Gregory Parsloe.' Lord Emsworth stiffened at the name. 'He kept me talking. He is extremely worried.' Lord Emsworth looked pleased. 'He tells me he used to know Galahad very well a number of years ago and he is very much alarmed about this book of his.'
'And I bet he isn't the only one,' murmured Millicent.
She was right. Once a man of the Hon. Galahad Threepwood's antecedents starts taking pen in hand and being reminded of amusing incidents that happened to my dear old friend So-and-So, you never know where he will stop; and all over England, among the more elderly of the nobility and gentry, something like a panic had been raging ever since the news of his literary activities had got about. From Sir Gregory Parsloe-Parsloe, of Matchingham Hall, to grey-headed pillars of Society in distant Cumberland and Kent, whole droves of respectable men who in their younger days had been rash enough to chum with the Hon. Galahad were recalling past follies committed in his company and speculating agitatedly as to how good the old pest's memory was.
For Galahad in his day had been a notable lad about town. A beau sabreur of Romano's. A Pink 'Un. A Pelican. A crony of Hughie Drummond and Fatty Coleman; a brother-in-arms of the Shifter, the Pitcher, *Peter Blobbs and the rest of an interesting but not strait-laced circle. Bookmakers had called him by his pet name, barmaids had simpered beneath his gallant chaff. He had heard the chimes at midnight. And when he had looked in at the old Gardenia, commissionaires had fought for the privilege of throwing him out. A man, in a word, who should never have been taught to write and who, if unhappily gifted with that ability, should have been restrained by Act of Parliament from writing Reminiscences.
... 'It always makes me laugh,' said Millicent, 'when I think what a frightfully bad shot Uncle Gally's godfathers and godmothers made when they christened him.'
She regarded her approaching relative with that tolerant - indeed, admiring - affection which the young of her sex, even when they have Madonna-like faces, are only too prone to lavish on such of their seniors as have had interesting pasts.
'Doesn't he look marvelous?" she said. 'It really is an extraordinary thing that anyone who has had as good a time as he has can be so amazingly healthy. Everywhere you look, you see men leading model lives and pegging out in their prime, while good old Uncle Gally, who apparently never went to bed till he was fifty, is still breezing along as fit and rosy as ever.'
'All our family have had excellent constitutions,' said Lord Emsworth.
'And I'l l bet Uncle Gally needed every ounce of his,' said Millicent.
The Author, ambling briskly across the lawn, had now joined the little group at the tea-table. As his photograph had indicated, he was a short, trim, dapper little man of the type one associates automatically in one's mind with checked suits, tight trousers, white bowler hats, pink carnations, and race-glasses bumping against his left hip. (From the chapter entitled, Trouble Brewing at Blandings, at pgs. 19-21) |
| Quote: | Summer Lightning
Complete and Unabridged
Audio Cassette ONLY!
By P.G. Wodehouse
Narrated by British satirist John Wells
Again, a perfectly wonderful piece of fiction probably brilliantly narrated but available only on cassette. Fire the bloody publisher! Unfortunately, we were unable to locate any samples of the narrator's work online but we'll search our local libraries. His resume certainly recommends him. Please check back soon for a fuller review. |
Our indignant e-mail to the fools at Chivers:
| Quote: | Date: Sun, 2 Sep 2007 13:52:59 -0700 (PDT)
From: legal@pokerpulse.com
Subject: Hatred and bitterness! P.G. Wodehouse out of PRINT?!
To: nick.forster@bbc.co.uk
Nick -
Are you MAD?! What is the meaning of this outrage?
How can Summer Lightning be out of print?
And why, why, WHY are so many of the audio books available only in useless, breakable, outrageously expensive audio cassette? I am trying to run an ESL guide and you are not cooperating! Harumph! And furthermore, faugh!
Never mind rubbery rationales - please just fix it.
I'd like to hear a sample of narrator Wells but I must say Jonathan Cecil is the best I've heard so far. If Chivers was going to do the thing again - hint, hint! - I'd vote for him.
Please include me in Chivers e-mail alerts, catalogue - all of that stuff:
legal@pokerpulse.com.
Thanks very much.
Please let me know if/WHEN! Summer Lightning is again available. |
... and the not unexpectedly charming reply:
| Quote: | Subject: RE: Hatred and bitterness! P.G. Wodehouse out of PRINT?!
Date: Mon, 3 Sep 2007 10:12:14 +0100
From: "Nick Forster" <nick>
To: legal@pokerpulse.com
Quite mad, as it happens.
Alas I cannot say whether it's a prerequisite for the job, or simply a consequence of it.
Many of our Wodehouse titles are out of print, but this is merely a hiatus while shiny new CD editions are prepared for release; we have some 1,500 titles in the catalogue that need to be reissued in CD form and it's taking a little while to work through them.
Meantime let me stress that there are no,
as in none at all,
not any,
no, not even that many
plans to drop any of the Wodehouse books: all of them will reappear on CD in due course.
As for those cassettes, which stay stopped where they are when you switch off and which are so readily portable from the player in the drawing room to the one in the potting shed and from that to the one in the car without the need to fiddle about skipping tracks to find your place? They, astonishingly enough, remain the format of choice for many of our listeners, although this is slowly changing, hence the programme to reissue on CD as quickly as we can.
Summer Lightning is the only book John Wells ever read for us, so regrettably I cannot help with a sample of his narration - he was, however, an accomplished actor - and writer - http://oxforddnb.com/view/article/69101?_fromAuth=1 and would, no doubt, have done much more with us were it not for his untimely demise in 1998.
Sacking the publisher? That's just not my bag, I'm afraid.
I remain yours, etc.
Nick Forster
Nick Forster, Sales and Marketing Manager
BBC Audiobooks, St James House, The Square, Lower Bristol Road, Bath BA2 3BH
T: +44 (0)1225 878065 F: +44 (0)1225 448005 M: 07890 996980
mailto: nick.forster@bbc.co.uk |
More about The Authentic Dreams of *Peter Blobbs, M.D., 1916, at the fascinating Oddbooks blog.
... and that delightful reply:
| Quote: | Date: Mon, 3 Sep 2007 11:30:35 +0100
From: "Alfred Armstrong" <alfred>
To: legal@pokerpulse.com
Subject: Re: Weirder than Peter Blobbs
On 02/09/07, legal@pokerpulse.com wrote:
Hallo Freddie,
Freddie? That's the one variant of my name no one uses. Not that I care.
Just a quick note to let you know we give you a link at our ESL blog - http://pokerpulse.com/news/viewtopic.php?p=2984#2984. Interestingly enough, we were annotating an excerpt from a favorite Wodehouse classic, Summer Lightning, when we came upon the name Peter Blobbs, who is listed among Gally Threepwood's set of eccentric pals. Thought you'd like to know. Makes sense that Wodehouse knew of him - certainly his era.
Grand stuff. Although I'm a Wodehouse fan, this is news to me, and
amusing news at that.
I shall now celebrate by knocking the hat off a policeman.
Alfred Armstrong, Likemind Web Services
Site design and consultancy
http://likemind.co.uk/
alfred@likemind.co.uk :: +44 (0)1805 625149
Legal: Likemind (Devon) Ltd - Reg # 5900794 - Reg office: 21 Boutport
St, EX31 1RP |
View the British Museum catalog listing
Link to this entry
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editor
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| Posted: Thu Sep 06, 2007 2:54 pm Post subject: |
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Luciano Pavarotti
Oct. 12/35-Sept. 6/07.
Turandot
CD Audio
Featuring the Big Bambino, singing
his theme song, Nessun Dorma.
Italia 1990 World Cup version.
Better, at a recital at London's Royal Albert Hall in 1982.
| Quote: | "Nessun dorma" is an aria from the final act of Giacomo Puccini's opera Turandot. The aria, whose title translates from Italian as "Let no one sleep", follows the proclamation by the Princess Turandot that no one shall sleep: they shall all spend the night attempting to find out the name of the unknown prince, Calàf, who has set the challenge. Calàf sings, indicating his certainty that their effort will be in vain.
The aria achieved pop status after it was used by the BBC for their TV coverage of the 1990 Football World Cup, known at the time as Italia '90. Prior to the World Cup it was the signature song of the late Italian tenor Luciano Pavarotti and it was associated with him until his death in 2007.
Libretto Verses
(from the original libretto)
Il principe ignoto
Nessun dorma!... Tu pure, o Principessa,
Nella tua fredda stanza
Guardi le stelle
Che tremano d'amore e di speranza.
Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,
Il nome mio nessun saprà!
Solo quando la luce splenderà,
Sulla tua bocca lo dirò fremente!...
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio
Che ti fa mia!...
Voci di donne
Il nome suo nessun saprà...
E noi dovremo, ahimè, morir!...
Il principe ignoto
Dilegua, o notte!... Tramontate, stelle!...
All'alba vincerò!...
Score text:
Il principe ignoto
Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma! Tu pure, o Principessa,
nella tua fredda stanza
guardi le stelle
che tremano d'amore e di speranza...
Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,
il nome mio nessun saprà!
No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò,
quando la luce splenderà!
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio
che ti fa mia.
Voci di donne
Il nome suo nessun saprà...
E noi dovrem, ahimè, morir, morir!
Il principe ignoto
Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle!
Tramontate, stelle! All'alba vincerò!
Vincerò! Vincerò!
Translated from the score:
The Prince: Nobody shall sleep!... Nobody shall sleep! Even you, o Princess, in your cold room, watch the stars, that tremble with love and with hope.
But my secret is hidden within me, my name no one shall know... No!...No!... On your mouth I will tell it when the light shines.
And my kiss will dissolve the silence that makes you mine!...
The Chorus of women: No one will know his name and we must, alas, die.
The Prince: Vanish, o night! Set, stars! Set, stars! At dawn, I will win! I will win! I will win!
(footnotes omitted) |
PokerPulse favorite Pavarotti recordings:
King of the High Cs
CD Audio
Featuring the golden voice of lyric tenor
Pavo at his height.
| Quote: | | In his heyday, he was known as the King of the High Cs for the ease with which he tossed off difficult top notes. In fact it was his ability to hit nine glorious high Cs in quick succession that first turned him into an international superstar singing Tonio's aria "Ah! Mes amis," in Donizetti's La Fille du Regiment (with cool Aussie soprano Joan Sutherland) at New York's Metropolitan Opera in 1972. (From Pavarotti is dead, Associated Press, Sept. 5/07) |
Mattinata
CD Audio
Featuring - swooooooon! - Alma del core
Nice try but don't quit your day job.
Luciano Pavarotti
Live in Bari, 1984
DVD
Same song, this time in person and
in country.
Tutto Pavarotti
Multi-CD Audio
Many, MANY career highlights
Don't miss Pavarotti and his dad singing the 'penis song' in hometown Modena, 1979.
We dedicate this entry to anyone who has not yet experienced the kind of misery that can only find expression in opera. Cups up!
Link to this entry
http://pokerpulse.com/news/viewtopic.php?p=2988#2988 |
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editor
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| Posted: Sat Jan 19, 2008 12:19 pm Post subject: |
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Good Time Girls
of the Alaska-Yukon Gold Rush
Hardcover
By Lael Morgan
| Quote: | On one of the first boats in was Tex Rickard, a professional gambler and fight promoter who had lost everything in a Dawson faro game, including his immensely profitable Monte Carlo Saloon. In Nome he teamed with Pat Murphy, who already had opened the Northern Saloon. Tex went on to make a second fortune, which he later parlayed into a prime investment in New York City called Madison Square Garden. [
... On arriving in Nome, Blanche Lamonte and her lover, C.B. Heath, alias the 'Hobo Kid,' invested in a gambling house and saloon called the Kid's Club. (footnote omitted) Blanche was so determined to make her fortune that when a no-good named Flory Wynkoop attempted to steal her stake, she trashed him severely enough to make newspaper headlines. She remained single and apparently did well in Nome. (footnote omitted) (-- pgs. 160-161) |
Link to this entry
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editor
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| Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2008 6:03 pm Post subject: |
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| Quote: | Few of humanity's characteristics are more disconcerting than its ability to reduce world-events to its own level, wherever this may happen to lie. By the end of August, when Liege and Namur had fallen, and the misfortunes of the British Army were extending into the Retreat from Mons, the ladies of the Buxton elite had already set to work to provincialise the War.
At the First Aid and Home Nursing classes they cluttered about the presiding doctor like hens round a barnyard cock, and one or two representatives of "the set," who never learnt any of the bandages correctly themselves, went about showing everybody else how to do them. In order to have something to take me away from the stormy atmosphere at home, I went in for and passed both of these elementary examinations, at which stout "patients," sitting on the floor with flushed and worried faces, were treated for various catastrophies by palpitating and still stouter "nurses."
An hotel in the main street, Spring Gardens, was turned into a Red Cross Supply Depot, where "helpers" went to listen to the gossip that would otherwiswe have been carried on more privately over tea-tables. They wasted so much material in the amateur cutting-out of monstrous shirts and pyjamas, that in the end a humble local dressmaker whom my mother employed for our summer cottons had to be called in to do the real work, while the polite female society of Buxton stalked up and down the hotel rooms, rolled a few bandages, and talked about the inspiration of helping one's country to win the War. One or two would-be leaders of fashion paraded continually through the town in new Red Cross uniforms. Dressed in their most elaborate lace underclothing, they offered themselves as patients to would-be bandagers and bed-makers, and one of them disliked me intenselv because, in a zestful burst of vigour, I crumpled the long frills of her knickers by tucking them firmly into the bed. (From Oxford Versus War, pgs. 100-101) |
| Quote: | Testament of Youth
BBC Miniseries
VHS only!
| Quote: | | Not for the feint of heart, this excellent series based on Vera Brittain's eloquent autobiography provides a rich historical monument to the tragedy of that war, including the devastating effects of mustard gas. |
|
PokerPulse recommended listening for foreign affairs offices worldwide:
| Quote: | Lest We Forget
A collection of poetry & music dedicated
to the memory of those who fell in two
world wars
Audio CD
Featuring Derek Jacobi, John Gielgud and the
BBC Symphony Orchestra
| Quote: | Pomp & circumstance: March no. 4 in G major / Elgar -- Lines from For the fallen / Binyon -- On the idle hill of summer / Housman -- In time of the breaking nations / Hardy -- Salut d'amour / Elgar -- The autumn of the world / Read -- The planets: Mars, the bringer of war / Holst -- Attack ; The general / Sassoon -- For the fallen / Binyon -- In memoriam / Thomas -- The dead (IV) / Brooker -- Returning, we hear the larks / Rosenberg -- Everyone sing / Sassoon -- Chanson de matin / Elgar -- On the dead in Gallipoli / Maserfield -- Elegy / Elgar -- Before action / Hodgson -- The soldier / Brooke -- Futility / Owen -- In Flanders Fields / McCree -- Chanson de nuit / Elgar -- The hand that signed the paper / Thomas -- Summer night on the river / Delius -- To a conscript of 1940 / Read -- Watching post / Lewis -- Naming of parts / Reed -- All day it has rained / Lewis -- Peter Grimes: Dawn / Britten -- Song of the dying gunner / Causley -- For Johnny / Pudney -- Planets: Venus, the bringer of peace / Holst -- Midnight, May 7th, 1945 / Dickinson -- Will it be so again? / Lewis -- At the British war cemetery, Bayeux / Causley -- Enigma Variations: Nimrod / Elgar -- And death shall have no dominion / Thomas -- Pomp & circumstance: March no 1 in D major / Elgar -- Lines from For the fallen / Binyon.
Elgard, Edward, 1857-1934.
Holst, Gustav, 1874-1934.
Delius, Frederick, 1862-1934.
Calvert, Phyllis.
Gielgud, John, Sir, 1904-
Orr, Peter.
Jacobi, Derek.
Davis, Andrew, 1944-
BBC Symphony Orchestra.
Includes readings of poetry by Laurence Binyon; A.E. Housman; Thomas Hardy; Herbert Read; Edward Thomas; Rupert Brooke and others.
Should be required listening by governments everywhere contemplating the unoriginal and uncreative decision to go to war. Beautifully edited and executed, this CD must have been a labor of love for all concerned. |
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| Posted: Sun Mar 16, 2008 1:33 pm Post subject: |
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Living Cosmos
Our Search for Life
in the Universe
Hardcover
By Chris Impey
| Quote: | Vertebrates like us use a command-and-control architecture - the brain acts as a centralized processing unit to accept sensory input and control our limbs. An octopus, by contrast, has one centralized brain and another highly distributed brain. You can think of it as a mind melded to a body.
Start with locomotion. An octopus carries intelligence in its limbs. Each arm has an elaborate nervous system composed of fifty million neurons, and each has an enormous range of continuous motion. By compariosn, our simple arrangement of knees and ankles, elbows and wrists, seems quite primitive. Israeli researchers discovered that each arm has an underlying motor program with no centralized control. The brain gives an initiation command, then the smart limbs take over.
The octopus eye is as advanced as the human eye, although its design is different. Using a special balance organ that can sense gravity, the octopus keeps its eyes perfectly aligned regardless of the orientation of its body. It can sense polarization of light, which helps it see transparent prey such as shrimp and fish. Eye and brain combine for highly sophisticated pattern recognition, which is essential in complex terrain like a coral reef. An octopus has chemoreceptors in its suckers so it can taste what it touches and instantly reject the wrong foods. As a hunter, it's unparalleled - swift, strong, propelled by a water jet, and armed with suckers, a beak, ink that can be ejected and directed, and toxic saliva. The giant octopus grows to one hundred pounds, but the sailor's fearsome legends about them are fanciful; when faced with humans, they're curious and gentle.
The most amazing feature of an octopus may be its skin, a direct extension of the brain, used for camouflage and communication. Translucent sacs called chromatophores are filled with pigments of various colors: yellow, orange, red, brown, and black. When muscles attached to each sac contract, it expands, and the color becomes visible. Special cells lying below the chromatophores act as iridescent reflectors of many colors, allowing for optical interactions of bewildering complexity and beauty. Octopus skin can morph in testure, instantly mimicking smooth coral or a sponge or the rusted hulk of a sunken ship. A lot of processing power is needed for twenty million skin "pixels" to select from a palette of hundreds of thousands of colors in under a second. The comparison with a chameleon is insulting to an octopus.
Many of the behaviors are ingenius. An octopus can release a cloud of ink in its own shape, confusing a predator for long enough to get away. They can break off an arm as a decoy - the severed arm will continue to change colors and crawl around, making an excellent distraction. Octopuses memorize complex visual cues to navigate the tortured topography of the coral reef, a 3-D landscape that can disorient even experienced divers such as Hanlon. In captivity, octopuses are the Houdinis of the animal kingdom, able to pass through an opening no bigger than their eye. There's even some controversial evidence that octopuses can learn by observing the behavior of others.
Evolution doesn't stand still. Cephalopods may develop new abilities. Humans might succumb to microbes or their own hubris. We can visualize a time in the not-too-distant future when the descendants of the octopus, as curious as ever, take their first tentative steps on land. (From pgs. 288-290) |
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| Posted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 10:59 am Post subject: |
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COUNTRY LIFE
Magazine Subscription
REVIEW BOOKS
A Voyage Round John Mortimer:
The Authorized Biography
By Valerie Grove
Nov. 1/07
| Quote: | Quietly, and without any of us really noticing it, John Mortimer has been transformed from an Old Harrovian barrister, writer and raconteur into one of the most dearly loved figures of our age. This new biography will only add to this metamorphosis. ...
I first met Mortimer at a Spectator lunch in 1985, when we were in the smelt of Thatcherism and he was about to embark on a misguided voyage called 'Champagne Socialism'. But, even then, his advancement of ideas and knowledge was done with a kindness that marks his winning ways.
Our different journeys crossed again, however, in our shared defence of foxhunting. Anyone who has, as I have done, sat down with him and discussed the philosophical importance of Kierkegaard to the sport, will not doubt his conviction.
Mortimer's life has been a tornado of libertarian tendencies. His unsuccessful defence of Denis Lemon, the editor of Gay News, who had printed a poem with the absurd and blasphemous notion that Christ was the object of homosexual desires, simply added lustre to his name.
Ever with the diarist's eye, Grove recounts, with sensitivity, the discovery in 2004 that he had a previously unknown son from a relationship with the actress Wendy Craig. Even this has not dented the affection for him, not least from his heroic second wife, Penny. Rory Knight Bruce (-- p. 107) |
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| Posted: Wed May 14, 2008 7:51 am Post subject: |
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The War Symphonies
Shostakovich Against Stalin
First-rate multinational collaboration
Directed by Harvey Weinstein
Featuring the excellent Netherlands Radio Philarmonic
conducted by Valery Gergiev
DVD
| Quote: | 7th Symphony - 1941
Дмитрий Дмитриевич Шостакович Dmitri Shostakovich, the people's composer: My 7th Symphony was inspired by the tragic events of 1941. To our struggle against Fascism, to our future victory over the enemy and to native city of Leningrad, I dedicate this piece.
Ksenia Matus (oboeist): I grabbed my instrument and when I opened the case it also turned out to have dystrophy. All the pads had turned green. The oboe wouldn't play but I took it as it was. And when I got to the hall, I became frightened. Those I had known before the war were so emaciated. Some were covered in soot, their faces blackened with smoke. They were hungry, and all dressed in I don't know what. But they came. Eliasberg stood up at the podium. He lifted his hands and they were trembling and to my imagination, he was a wounded bird, whose wings are hurt, and is about to fall. But he didn't fall.
Tatiana Vasilyeva (Leningrad Siege survivor): I came for the 7th Symphony, and I had this same seat. When I entered the hall, tears came to my eyes because there were many people, all elated. We listened with such emotion because we had lived for this moment, to come and hear this music. This was a real symphony which we lived. This was our symphony, Leningrad's.
Dmitri Tolstoy (composer): They performed in the Philarmonic, and outside bombs and shells were exploding. It was incredible! This proved that the spirit prevails over matter. The spirit is more important than matter.
Tatiana: It was so meaningful for all of us. We realized that the concert might be the last thing we'd do in our lives.
Ksenia: Music was everything. Never mind the kasha, or that we were hungry. No one could feed us, but music inspired us and brought us back to life. In this way, this day was our feast. |
Perhaps even more remarkable, Shostakovich survived Stalin's purges. He died of lung cancer in 1975.
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