Escape from Elba
Exiles of the New York Times
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Author Topic: Movies  (Read 49562 times)
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jbottle
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« Reply #2925 on: December 22, 2007, 02:38:32 AM »

And you have to place the odd "not," or "yeah, but" when I'm not making solid, square logic.  The Ween song that sounds like a 007 theme, at least to me, is on "Quebec," and I think it's like the last song, I would be interested if anybody felt the same way or if I am slowly losing my mind.  Thanx. 
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ponderosa
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« Reply #2926 on: December 22, 2007, 08:11:29 AM »

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=msgGYgvIDnk

yeah, i can see it. and tho' i've seen it slipping a bit, i haven't totally lost my mind.
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madupont
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« Reply #2927 on: December 22, 2007, 10:47:18 AM »

That last remark thou Ponderous, is why I agree wit' you, an' his majesty  je'bot; but back to that in a moment. It's why I wrote at length to you last night in the "whee!" hours and then promptly lost it because i had fallen off a log.  Knew I could not do that use of the language over again a second time at that hour. So went and pouted.

But I Shall Return! (with a second cup of coffee)
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madupont
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« Reply #2928 on: December 22, 2007, 11:01:19 AM »

jbottle, 

Ever since Randall Kennedy wrote, Nigger, The Stange Career of a Troublesome Word, I have come up with "thirteenth thoughts"; particularly because I am a Dave Chapelle fan from the git-go and never had much use for Maya Angelou's poetizing. Her civil rights and race-relations were stand up in her youth and that's where I give her credit;but one of the funniest all time great Iconoclasts was where Chapelle knowledgeably made his way to dinner at her house for "a reading" and had to drop his age from 80 plus of folk wisdom to around age 8 and pull it off, gracefully tour the sculpture garden and get out of there with all his good manners intact.

ps. I think you must have been picking up my dialogue to Ponderosa while you were in that last bottle, because you nailed it.
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madupont
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« Reply #2929 on: December 22, 2007, 11:04:02 AM »

The Meaning of Agora
 
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/26/books/chapters/1126-1st-vida.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&ref=firstchapters
 
 
I have no idea why but for some reason there is presented the first chapter of Gore Vidal's, Point to Point Navigation in today's nytimes.com, not surprisingly in the First Chapters column itself.
 
The first chapter is where he discusses, with his reader but likewise strangely with himself, the meaning of movies; and that is where we come to the Agora.
 
I am glad that I have a place to post this link  which is apropo, that is the Movies Forum, because I'd have to be a masochist to post it, say, in the Latin American Literature forum where it needs to be recognized as something real for which a word was invented, already in the ancient world, and did not need some nebulous explication  by a neophyte proposing to put one word from one language up against another word from another language with the implication that it must be how the word was formed. Never mind the reality for which it stands.
 
Somehow, I just don't think it is too odd for a writer, whose father was French,  to make use of a  word for which no substitute could be invented because at least he knew that the early foundations of his cultural paternity were Greek as much as anything, The earliest slaves that the Romans brought with them to the conquest of Gaul were their Greek teachers and not just their house-boys. It is not odd that the consecrated tombs of the first martyrs in  Paris remain in what was once a suburb at St.Denis. To this day, the citizens are known as the Dionysians.
 
And when Alejo Carpentier was exiled from Cuba, it was to Paris in his father's homeland that he returned to meet his peers.
 
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Lhoffman
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« Reply #2930 on: December 22, 2007, 11:45:18 AM »

Ah Madupont....you are too funny.  The text that we were discussing tells us that the narrator had made a subconscious switch from his well-used Spanish to the Portuguese, from the language of his adulthood to the language that he spoke as an infant, learned to read.  The author consciously substitutes a word from the Portuguese into the Spanish sentence his narrator is speaking as a way of showing his reader that the narrator is moving backward in time.  And he actually TELLS us what he is doing in the previous paragraph.  The Greek sense of the word makes no sense here.

Sometimes I envy you.  When one never reads anything, the brain is free from worrying out unnecessary details relating to text and context. 

And as you pointed out so very kindly to me....don't you think that anyone in the other forums can read your sweet little posts over in this one?
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madupont
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« Reply #2931 on: December 22, 2007, 12:39:10 PM »

]
Finally got around to watching "Everything is Illuminated". Very well done.  I hope to read the book soon for further illumination.


I'm glad you liked it. As I've said before, I sat down on an average Saturday afternoon much like this one today and thought, after a few minutes, that I was watching a comedy of sorts; much like the one often described to me by people who read the book at the suggestion of the moderator at the nytimes.com forums

Instead in no time, I was in deep reminiscience of another time, alerted by some casual remark in the dialogue.

Which is why I have to tell Barton that I was a little shocked to discover that Liev Schreiber was responsible for the screenplay and the direction on this one; because I was used to seeing him as the beautifully done Heavy that he did skillfully without dropping a stitch in his seamless performance for, The Painted Veil. (Okay, so he may have dropped a stitch here and there for the sex scenes with Naomi Watts, where nude is better.) Obviously, we have a multi-talented up and comer to deal with here and have great things to look forward to as he continues in his career.

So many thoughts came uncalled for back into my consciousness as a result of watching a Saturday afternoon small film about a small man, that I think that I wrote an entire history of Ukraine for a fellow poster.

Everyone who reviews this film or mentions reading the book concentrates on the impression of that little guy who makes the big trip in search of his origins, but at some point after our on-screen introduction to the typical Eastern European family who have advanced a bit from "Squaring the Circle", a comedy written (for the stage) in the faraway Soviet era, we are given hints in dialogue and passing glimpses of sociological history, that are the shreds of clues of repressed memory.

Which, when eventually revealed, stunned me at how cleverly is psychological catharsis done.

I must admit that I did not recognize Eugene Hutz, although I was familiar with him from what eventually came to be called (the music group):Gypsy Bordello, that hangs about the East Village and perhaps SoHo and BoHo, by now, and they are the real thing. When the time is right, this genre of music occasionally erupts. They play what is in reality gypsy music when filtered through the consciousness of all the new age musical talents to which they have been exposed.

Lyrissa Lauret, the beautiful actor who does the woman doing her washing on the porch at the end of the field of sunflowers, is the greatest mystery in this production. She is what Carl Gustave Jung would have delineated in his archtypes as The Wise Old Woman aka the mysteriously beautiful witch. She is the messenger who has the work of managing the hard cases. What I find most mysterious of all is that she was born in Warsaw in 1939 and survived. I don't want to attempt to come up with answers that rationalize but will merely say that I am glad that I have seen real sunflower fields like that in this lifetime and not in some other. To me, they shall always signal,
"Good, we are half-way home".

My favourite scene however is where Jonathan sits down to a meal in the middle of his father's homeland where, for a couple of generations, make that three, they have not heard of such a thing as preparing vegetables or cooking meat without a dollop of sour cream and preferably that you begin to saute it with some lard or bacon rendering a little grease to fry it good. This is a culture where the enjoyment of a good piece of rye spread with lard is a treat. Those who remember the origins of this cuisinery delight as slices of left-over roasted goose served with a bed of carefully shredded raw cabbage of finely sliced cucumbers and topped with sour cream on rye know that this odd taste was caused by a revolution.

Jonathan ends up with a potato served by a cook who would not know milchig from fleishig much less parve, and has it snatched away from him which is what happens when you don't know with  whom you are sitting down to table  where life has been reduced to refinements of rationing.

About forty years ago, I studied with a rabbi from Philadelphia but it has only been in the last decade that reasons for things have become more apparent when I came to live in an area where the Jewish peddlers came out from Philadelphia with a wagon to bring the small amenities to what had been the frontier. They did not have even a minyon to call for a synagogue but eventually the first matter was buying a piece of land for a cemetery.

In those days, I was told they marked their own pots and pans with an x or some other subtle identifying mark to separate the koshered equipment in the back of the wagon, and they could tell whether somebody had been messing with them before they cooked their own supper.  Now, it makes sense. When somebody messes with your mind long enough to scapegoat your reputation, you take precautions.
 
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madupont
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« Reply #2932 on: December 22, 2007, 12:43:23 PM »


Ah Madupont....you are too funny.  The text that we were discussing tells us that the narrator had made a subconscious switch from his well-used Spanish to the Portuguese, from the language of his adulthood to the language that he spoke as an infant, learned to read.  The author consciously substitutes a word from the Portuguese into the Spanish sentence his narrator is speaking as a way of showing his reader that the narrator is moving backward in time.  And he actually TELLS us what he is doing in the previous paragraph.  The Greek sense of the word makes no sense here.

Sometimes I envy you.  When one never reads anything, the brain is free from worrying out unnecessary details relating to text and context. 

And as you pointed out so very kindly to me....don't you think that anyone in the other forums can read your sweet little posts over in this one?


Alas, you have just copied out the insights of mringel (on the text and usage) and used her literary astuteness to make havoc. She discussed language and you are slandering. There is a difference.
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Lhoffman
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« Reply #2933 on: December 22, 2007, 12:51:45 PM »

I have taken nothing from Mringel.  Your post is only further evidence of your scrambled mind.
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Lhoffman
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« Reply #2934 on: December 22, 2007, 12:55:25 PM »

And here is the actual text....something you clearly have not seen...in which the author expresses his intent.

"...And a force was slowly invading my though my ears, my pores:  the language.  Here once more was the language I had talked in my infancy; the language in which I had learned to read and sol-fa; the language that had grown rusty with disuse, thrown aside like a useless instrument in a country where it was of no value to me."

This text is followed by the passage that was under discussion in the other forum.
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madupont
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« Reply #2935 on: December 22, 2007, 01:05:24 PM »

Lhoffman,

"mringel
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   Re: Latin American Literature
« Reply #738 on: December 20, 2007, 11:33:35 PM » Quote 

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Lhoffman,
Yes, of course, in Brazil they speak Portuguese, but they pronounce it differently, so Portuguese of Portugal sounds to some people like it was another language.
Portuguese's from Portugal do not have any problem to understand Brazilians.
Spanish and Portuguese are "sister" languages, but again, Portuguese understand easily Spanish while Spanish speakers have difficulty to understand Portuguese.
Sometimes I am amazed by this fact.
It is true that Spanish is a very easy language to learn (most girls here, in my country speak Spanish after watching hundreds of hours of telenovelas...)
For example:
A ultima noche que passei contigo (Spanish) is it right, Martin?
A ultima noite que passei contigo (Portuguese)
(Last night that I spent with you) see?
Portuguese is quite difficult and much more complicated, especially the grammar, but if you know French or Italian, it is easier for you.

I am fond of music, all kind of music, but especially classic music.
Languages are for me different variations of music, so I love to write, speak and read in other languages.


 {followed by:

mringel
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   Re: Latin American Literature
« Reply #742 on: December 21, 2007, 01:52:51 AM » Quote 

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Madupont
It is very interesting the word "Agora".
 In Portuguese the word "agora" has several meanings:
Now, at present, at this time.

If you write Agora! It means impossible

If you write "ágora" with Á it is a place of assembly, especially the market place in ancient Greek cities.

In English dictionary I found the last translation, but look at the small difference in spelling, the accent upon A.
It is what we call inconsequentiality, petty detail, which can change the whole meaning.
In Hebrew "Agora" is a small coin, penny and I suppose it came from Greek, as in the market people used some kind of money…. "
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Lhoffman
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« Reply #2936 on: December 22, 2007, 01:17:49 PM »

And that proves?  If you will read back to earliers posts, you will discover that I had already noted the meaning of "agora" in Portuguese.  The posts you cite are Mringel's 738 and 742....I commented on the word and the text as early as post 732.  EVERYONE knows what "agora" means in Greek.  (Although I do find it quite entertaining that you are so desperate to discredit me that you cite a post in which Mringel corrects your own misunderstanding of the text.)

As I said, further evidence of your scrambled mind.
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jbottle
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« Reply #2937 on: December 22, 2007, 03:09:44 PM »

Thank's for the link, ponder, doesn't it sound kind of corny/inspiring/goofy enough for the perfect theme to the sort of Roger Moore cheeky (dare I say postmodern near parody) incarations of 007 in the 1970's.

So vote now, favourite bond tune, in no particular order:

1.  "Live and Let Die," McCartney

2.  "Nobody Does it Better," Carly Simon, "The Spy Who Loved Me."

3.  "Goldfinger," Shirley Bassey

4.  "Moonraker," Shirley Bassey

5.  "For Your Eyes Only," Sheena Easton

6.  "A View to a Kill," Duran Duran

7.  "Diamonds are Forever," Shirley Bassey

8.  "The Man With the Golden Gun," Lulu
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harrie
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« Reply #2938 on: December 22, 2007, 04:28:29 PM »

It's definitely Gooooollllldddd-fingaaaahhhh for me.  Maybe that's just my memory stretching things, but that's how I remember it sounding.
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jbottle
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« Reply #2939 on: December 22, 2007, 04:38:27 PM »

I fall for the Carly Simon one, as the warmest, a nice juxtaposition with a man who must at some level have the black heart of womanizer, gambler, shooter, etc., and yet...
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