Out of the loop

I don't watch the news.

I only read the once-a-week local paper.

I get my political news from The Daily Show, I check out Baristanet for day to day local goings-on, and I read The Nation, Smithsonian, National Geographic, Seed, Ode , Wired, and whatever else my husband happens to pick up at the train station on his way home.

So I am often completely unaware of what is happening in the world at large.

I didn't use to be this way. I watched The Today Show while getting ready for work, and sometimes I would watch the news when I got home, but I always watched the news before I went to sleep at night. I wanted to know what was happening. I was living in NYC in the center of the universe and it was all very interesting to me.

And then Daniel was born.

Still, I watched The Today Show in the morning as we began our day. I didn't pay as close attention to the news as I had before though.

And then 9/11. I watched with horror with my husband by my side and the baby in my arms. I begged him not to get on the subway to go to work. He, like many, thought it was just a terrible accident.  Then the second plane hit, and he agreed to stay home. We watched the news incessantly that day.

And then I stopped. Slowly at first, but as Daniel got older it didn't seem appropriate to watch the news in front of him.

I don't regret it. I don't miss "being in the know". I like being blissfully ignorant.

I didn't know about Governor Corzine's terrible accident until more than a day after it happened when my boss asked me about it and I stared blankly at him.

I didn't know about the Virginia Tech massacre until a reference was made on Baristanet.

Yesterday I took Daniel out to eat at a local McDonald's and a New York Post had been left behind at the table we sat down at. Daniel is a very slow eater and I was bored so I decided to check out the paper. It was filled with scenes from the massacre and stories of the victims and survivors. And also stories of rape and torture that happened recently in New York.

I grieve for the families and the students involved at Virginia Tech. Even the students who were not shot at will carry a heavy burden for a long time to come. I still tear up when I drive by Ground Zero and my only connection to that was the death of a friend of a friend. Last September we were on the New Jersey waterfront when a group of fighter planes did maneuvers as a tribute, and I almost jumped out of my skin, because that was the sound we heard overhead for days after the attack.

How do I explain to my child the degree of monstrosity that lies within the human race? How do I keep him safe without passing on the anxiety? At what point will he be able to handle "the news"? Because I am a grown woman and I can't handle it. He still believes that people are generally good. It's easier to believe this truth when you don't watch the news.

Tonight, we sleep with the fishes

I'd love to post something pithy or witty right now, but as of 3pm today I own lake front property.

Unfortunately, mother nature is also trying to give me a house boat too.

I hope that everyone out there in the wide webby internet-ness is safe and healthy and not too wet.

And now I am going back to my not-so-good-friend "Mr. Louder Than the Front Row at a Motorhead Concert" shop-vac. I'm kind of at the point where I don't even care about what possessions we have left in the basement. Maybe in the morning we'll just open the basement door and then we'll have our very own stream running right through our house ala Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater.

Adieu.

The Federal Government stole an hour away from my dying cat

Ok, first off, how did my computer know about the change in Daylight Savings Time? I always thought  that the automatic change had something to do with the computer's calendar. But clearly, my computer is getting memos on these things. What else is it getting memos about???

I tell you, when I'm old and my only goal in life is to be an embarrassment to my son, I'm going to refuse to observe Daylight Saving Time. I will be late for my appointments half of the year, and when people get upset, I will remind them that the US government does not compel any state (or person, by my reasoning) to participate in DST. (Except that somehow they made Canada and Mexico , and even Indiana, go along with them too.)

Enough of my DST rant.

This morning, just moments ago really, I was lying in bed with my husband, son and the kitten. Remnants of my dreams were still swirling around my head. A richly paneled boat's interior, my father standing by a window saying something inane...and thoughts of Atreus crept in. We ended last night on a sour note. You see, I am now supposed to "encourage him strongly to eat". Which is just another way of saying "force feed".  So I did the best I could and gave him some of the high calorie supplement they gave me at the vet. He was pissed. Angry at me.

So I was lying in bed feeling awful about my cat again. I am an expert in guilt and remorse. I have been training for the Olympic Guilt and Remorse event my whole life.

I decided that I would get up even though it was only six a.m., (no! now it's seven - damn you DST!), and try to find him and apologize for the force feeding "incident".

He was in the living room resting comfortably, purring even. So I thought I'd get him some fresh water and give the other cats some dry food. Well, he actually came over and ate some dry food while I was getting the water! So I gave him some of his fancy prescription food... and he ate it! I feel like hugging someone, but they are all sleeping, still blissfully blanketed by Standard Time.

Help for a hero

I received an email from a dear friend of mine this morning about a man who is in the news in San Francisco.

Now you know I don't usually talk about the news on my blog, but I'm sitting here feeling bad because my cat is in the hospital, and, well, this story is heart-wrenching and it just seems appropriate to share this man's remarkable and self-less story.

The news story is here, but for those with dial-up or fear of "click-through", (I just made that up), I'll give you a brief run-down:

Michael Keenan was pet-sitting a friend's dog on February 6th when a fire broke out in the building. He got out safely, but then went back in to save his friend's dog. Both he and the dog suffered severe burns.

The dog, Bobby is being treated and cared for pro bono at Pet's Unlimited in San Francisco.

Michael, who was also in the news in 2001 for another heroic act, is at San Francisco General ICU. He has burns on over 80% of his body and will face a very difficult road to recovery.

Clearly this man has a hero's soul and I hope he will be able to use the same courageous spirit that drove him to save others on two occasions, to recover from his injuries. I don't know Michael Keenan, but I am glad to know of him. His friends and family have set up websites here and here and they are accepting Paypal donations to cover the cost of his medical care and rehabilitation here by clicking the donation button at the top of the page, or by check here.

And if you want to send a note to Michael to encourage him in his journey, you can do it here.

Hey! I know that name!

I don't think I've ever talked about a film that wasn't geared towards children on this blog.

But in this case I'll make an exception. You'll see why in a minute.

On January 20th the World Premiere of Dante's Inferno  was shown at the Slamdance Film Festival in the 21+ Film Series.

This film was born out of a project by Sandow Birk and Marcus Sanders. A modern adaptation in words and paintings of Dante Alighieri's masterwork, The Divine Comedy. Birk's paintings reinterpreted the circles of Date's hell in an altogether modern fashion while still echoing the moody beauty and tenor of Gustave Dore's illustrations.

As an example:

Gustave Dore -

Sandow Birk -

I don't own a copy of Birk and Sander's adaptation of The Divine Comedy ... yet. But you can bet it will be on my wishlist.

So this was the starting point for this movie. Using Birk's illustrations as a blueprint, the movie is told entirely with miniature paper puppets on a toy theater stage. More than 500 intricate puppets were created for the production.

I could go on and on talking about the film and its innovative use of zero technology (in the form of CGI), as well as its funny and disconcerting take on the circles of hell, but you really have to see it for yourself.

You see?

The film is comfortable in its depiction of hell as the everyday seediness of modern life. The puppets and scenery are lush but not polished in just the right way and the obviousness of the sticks and wires that hold the puppets intrigue me.

The plain language and use of current politics (and politicians) fits in well with Dante's original manuscript which did not shy away from the politics of his day. Nearly seven hundred  years ago, when Dante crafted The Inferno it spoke to his readers with a currentness that I think this film accurately captures for those of us in 2007.

Of course it's not like I actually SAW the movie. Are you kidding? Slamdance is in Park City in the Land of Dooce. No, I was in Jersey the whole time watching the same trailer that you just saw - only I watched it FORTY-FOUR times in a row. Now if that don't make me an expert, I don't know what does.

And now a word from our Sponsor

Guest blogger today. Howard, the husband.

Liesel is sickish.  Not an actifed overdose, mind you, but a case of the blahs that might be due to signing and licking too many Christmas cards for random old people.  It could be an acute pain-in-the-assedness, too, but diagnosis is difficult, natch.

But, luckily, dear reader, it's the holiday season.  And lists abound for the greatest, uh, whatever, of 2006.  Let's take a stroll through some of the best:

The best in Media Corrections, at regrettheerror. My favorite?  From the newspaper of record, a topic dear to Liesel's rants heart:

A film review on Wednesday about “Little Miss Sunshine” referred incorrectly to contestants in the fictional children’s beauty pageant of the title. The critic intended to compare the contestants to underage prostitutes, not to “underage fleshpots.”

From Amazon's list of the best non-fiction, a book I haven't read and had no prior knowledge about...but one that surely is a good pick for Liesel's voyeuristic/women's-studies interests:
The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in the Decades Before Roe v. Wade.

From the Publishers Weekly Review:  Nobody ever asked me if I wanted to keep the baby," says Joyce, in a story typical of the birth mothers, mostly white and middle-class, who vent here about being forced to give up their babies for adoption from the 1950s through the early '70s. They recall callous parents obsessed with what their neighbors would say; maternity homes run by unfeeling nuns who sowed the seeds of lifelong guilt and shame; and social workers who treated unwed mothers like incubators for married couples. More than one birth mother was emotionally paralyzed until she finally met the child she'd relinquished years earlier.

From the Best of Photojournalism 2006, a story of a young boy, perserverance and triumph, by Paul Zoeller.

Check out a great collection of "Best Of" lists here.  And, since this guest blogging thing is taking way too long, my favorite best of 2006?  Best Mom and Wife.

--howard