Venom and Eternity

I am not a film historian, although I do have an acute interest in history and the history or subcultures in general. Lately, I've been working my way through various film vignettes in the Kino Avant Garde series of Experimental Cinema (1928-1954). Aside from a hyper-stylized adaptation of The Fall of the House of Usher, and some experiments in stop-motion and sound effects, little has made an impression on me, most likely because I lack the understanding and appreciation of film history.

However, I was quite please to discover that the last film in the series was Isidore Isou's Venom and Eternity. Like a lot of fans of punk, I stumbled across Isou, a Parisian film maker from the early 1950s, in Griel Marcus' fanciful history on the origins of punk, Lipstick Traces. I say fanciful, because there is a lot of speculation involved in Marcus' linking of punk to past avant garde movements like dadaism, situationism, and Isou's own lettrism, something he described as a celebration of pure noise, freeing letters and sound from the tyranny of thousands of years of words.

Venom and Eternity was Isou's attempts to explore this idea in film, and just as he wanted a disconnect between sounds and words (meant, I think, more in the sense of narrative meaning) in poetry, Isou argued that the next phase in the evolution of film (following World War II), was the severing of the relationship between sound and images. He felt that both of these artistic avenues could be used to explore different, but complementary, themes simultaneously. The visual literacy of the audience was such that they didn't need a dialogue or film score to reinforce the images being presented, their audio faculties could be engaged along other lines.

What we see in Venom and Eternity then is a set of filmed sequences following the main character "Daniel" as he wanders around Paris. There is a narrative voice-over, but the two are not related in any direct way, other than perhaps to say that Daniel features in both. Isou has also scratched and drawn on the film stock, making the overall effect very similar to a lot of the films I've seen shown at punk rock and electronic shows as a visual backdrop to the music. In fact, it struck me that perhaps the punk shows represent an idealized manifestation of Isou's lettrism in film, and strengthening some of Marcus' claims.

Judge for yourself (here is a random selection from Venom and Eternity since Isou wasn't all that keen on narrative):

Watching Movies With Children

Like any young person, my daughter loves to watch movies, and like most fathers, I enjoy watching them with her. Granted, she watches her own fair share of Disney movies and similar films geared to children, but she also will watch a wide variety of other things and usually we'll all watch something together for the first time if it's a little outside her usual range. However, once we caught her watching twenty-minutes of Working Girl because, as she said, she was waiting for Han Solo to get in his spaceship.

Sometimes her impressions are the best part of the entire film, especially when they involve her trying to put new phenomena into her existing understanding of things. So, for example, last weekend TCM was showing a bunch of movies from the 1980s and my wife challenged me to identify a movie based on my daughter's description of what was happening:

"There is a boy trying to make orange juice in a funny machine and it's not working and he made a big mess and he got some on his dog. The boy's younger brother is the boy from Goonies."

My wife laughs in the background and asks my daughter for the name of his "dog."

Answer: "Gizmo."

Or, later, my daughter and I happen across a few minutes of Jaws. It's the scene where Richard Dreyfus is preparing to enter the water in the shark cage. My daughter has already seen the shark swimming past the boat a few moments earlier, so she knows what the movies about, and I explain what Dreyfus' character is trying to do. My daughter immediately becomes concerned for the safety . . . of his glasses. "He will lose them!" she cries. She breathes a huge sigh of relief when he hands them off to Roy Scheider and descends into the depths.

Love it.

Work-Related Graffiti

My office got tagged with this little piece of graffiti awhile back and I don't think anyone's noticed. I like the thought that maybe it's Banksy-inspired, but really, I think it's awesome that someone's stenciled a RAT on my building. Speaking in terms of how my superiors view my company, our work is related to the indoctrination, acculturation, and socialization of general population. Within this process, my colleagues and I are tasked with creating more efficient ways for our rank and file employees to indoctrinate better.

So I ask you, what better mascot than rat?

Final Thoughts on the World Cup 2010

It's taken a little while to put these thoughts together, mostly because I needed a day or so to calm down. It seems like the 2010 World Cup Final will be as controversial as that of 2006, except that Zidane's sending off was pretty much clear cut. Instead, the Spain v. Netherlands edition will prove to be divisive. Mostly for:

1. Accusations that the Dutch played "too ugly." This is different from claims that other teams in the tournament played "dirty," though I've been trying to think about what the difference between playing ugly and playing dirty might be and can only suggest that "playing dirty" might be what happens when a team aggressively tackles or attempts to deceive the referee in a haphazard, individual manner. When it is part of the game plan, I guess it's just strategy.

The Dutch strategy was clearly geared towards playing physical and attempting to wear down their opponents, leading to many aggressive tackles. The best description I heard was simply that the Netherlands played "like bullies," but I find this curious and problematic, since it suggests that there are limits that a particular team should push their natural advantage. For example, would we criticize Spain for running too fast? Should Peter Crouch be banned from jumping at headers during corner kicks?

To say that the Dutch were correct to press their physical advantage is not to say that they played perfectly, or to suggest that we are endorsing violent player behaviour during the match. The level of violence, or more specifically "contact," falls within the parameters of the officials to decide. It is incumbent on the officials to indicate what is, and what is not, acceptable contact. Once these parameters have been established, the Dutch ought to have kept their aggressive tactics within it. It is reasonable to expect that after the hyper-aggressive beginning, the game ought to have settled down, that it didn't suggests a failure on the part of the officials.

2. Spain dove too much. Diving is a problem. It's one of the ways that smaller teams attempt to counteract the physical play of larger teams. There are rules against diving, or "simulation", but it is up to the officials to determine what's what. I watched all but three games this World Cup and think I saw only one yellow card for diving.

3. The officiating. Both of the above mentioned issues involve players trying to push the boundaries of acceptable behaviour. Everyone, including Howard Webb, knew that this game was going to be a tough one to referee, and I feel sorry that Webb botched it so bad. Clearly he felt that he had a strategy in place, but obviously it only made things worse. Had Webb been more forceful (or more clear) early on, players might have got the message and held back. For example, de Jong might not have been so reckless in his attempt to battle Alonso in the air for the ball had Webb cracked down earlier. Players would have understood what would have been deemed acceptable, however reviewing Webb's carding decisions reveals little in terms of a pattern.

4. Inconsistent officiating. One can argue that even if Webb had cracked down earlier, de Jong might have still given Alonso that ninja kick. I believe that giving Alonso a yellow, instead of a straight red for a "studs up" high kick, sent the players a message that Webb, for all of his warnings, was reluctant to send players off. This was certainly the impression I had towards the end of regulation when Robben attempted to navigate past Puyol, forcing the Spanish defender to put two arms around his waist. Unfortunately for the Dutch, Robben refused to be taken down, and tried to make a go of it, but lost too much balance and momentum in the process. It was an odd moment. Puyol was the last defender and Robben failed to gain any playable advantage, this alone should have warranted a free kick. Since Puyol was the last defender however, a free kick would have meant an automatic card, and since Puyol already had one, he would have been sent off. That Webb called nothing, suggested his reluctance to send players off. However, later in the extra time, Heitinga executed a similar foul on Iniesta, and Webb didn't hesitate to show the Dutch player a second yellow card.

5. Missed Calls. There were arguably many others, but shortly after Heitinga's sending off, the Dutch won a free kick that ended up rolling out of play after being touched by Spanish goalkeeper Iker Casillas. Instead of awarding the Netherlands a corner kick, Webb grants Spain a goal kick, and the Spanish are able to use that play to build-up to their inevitable goal.

World Cup 2010 Finals Predictions

As much of the world gears up for the World Cup Final on Sunday, there appears to be no shortage of superstitions coming to the fore: apparently there is an octopus in Germany that is on quite a role and has predicted that Spain will win. A local TV station over here supposedly had a parakeet that picked the Netherlands, so who can say? But it does appear that live animals making sports wagers does seem to be a 21st century sporting superstition that has a bit of legs. Most Canadians would point to TSN's Maggie the Macaque's astonishing NHL Playoff predictions back in 2003.

Of course, here at What Sister Ray Said we've been musing about the death of 20th Century Superstitions, and so hold out the Spain-Netherlands Final as their last chance to hold any currency for this new century. Specifically, we are rooting for The Monkey Paw, a superstition based on a 1902 short story in which a stuffed monkey paw is said to grant wishes, but always with awful results. It's been the subject of close to a dozen movie adaptations, as well as numerous spoofs, most famously (to my generation) on The Simpsons. You can read an excerpt from the original short story at the bottom of this post.

So, in our case, the Monkey Paw refers to the fact that no defending European Champion has ever won the World Cup. Spain won the European Championships in 2008 and so, theoretically, are doomed to lose in this tournament -except of course, that they keep winning and look fantastic doing it. Further, no team has lost their opening game and gone on to win the World Cup, so in fact Spain has two 20th century superstitions against them.

What Will Happen

Spain will come out and play the same brand of possession football that has given them so much success. If the Dutch try to play their typical counter-attacking style, as the Germans tried to do, they will lose. As a fan of numerous counter-attacking Italian teams, the premise of the counter-attack is that the offensive team will eventually lose patience, commit a mistake that will allow you to gain possession, and then you run down the field and score. It presupposes that you are more talented than your opponent. At best, Holland and Spain are a dead draw, with most people easily willing to give Spain the edge.

If the Dutch are to win, and I want them too (because I want to believe in the Monkey Paw), then the Netherlands need to attack the Spanish in midfield. van Persie and van Bommel are taller than their Spanish counterparts, and I'm hard pressed to think of someone on the Spanish side as physically challenging as Arjen Robben. The only one who comes close is defender Carles Puyol, who the Dutch need to attack relentlessly on account of his age and lack of speed. Many commentators also feel that Capdevilla is attackable. Add in the fact that Sergio Ramos is keen to play out of position, and Holland ought to have every reason to take the ball to the Spanish net every chance they get.

Fernando Torres is out of form, and there's a rumour going around that David Villa is hurt or sick. Spain still has plenty of weapons though, especially when their ball handlers Xavi and Iniesta are given time to move players into position. Again, hoping to sponge up Spain's offensive pressure will only result in the Dutch losing. Attacking in midfield is the key. Netherlands ('cuz the Monkey Paw said so)

Tomorrow's Game

The only team that wants to play the Runner's Up Game tomorrow is Uruguay and therefore they'll win. Somehow. The Germans are already talking about the next World Cup and turning down offers for a parade in Berlin. Germany is the better team and ought to take it easily, but I doubt how many German players are going to show.

THE MONKEY'S PAW (1902)

from The lady of the barge (1906, 6th ed.)
London and New York
Harper & Brothers, Publishers

by W.W. Jacobs

---

I.

WITHOUT, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fire.

"Hark at the wind," said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from seeing it.

"I'm listening," said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he stretched out his hand. "Check."

"I should hardly think that he'd come to-night," said his father, with his hand poised over the board.

"Mate," replied the son.

"That's the worst of living so far out," bawled Mr. White, with sudden and unlooked-for violence; "of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way places to live in, this is the worst. Pathway's a bog, and the road's a torrent. I don't know what people are thinking about. I suppose because only two houses on the road are let, they think it doesn't matter."

"Never mind, dear," said his wife soothingly; "perhaps you'll win the next one."

Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance between mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he hid a guilty grin in his thin grey beard.

"There he is," said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and heavy footsteps came toward the door.

The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with himself, so that Mrs. White said, "Tut, tut!" and coughed gently as her husband entered the room, followed by a tall burly man, beady of eye and rubicund of visage.

"Sergeant-Major Morris," he said, introducing him.

The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the fire, watched contentedly while his host got out whisky and tumblers and stood a small copper kettle on the fire.

At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the little family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke of strange scenes and doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange peoples.

"Twenty-one years of it," said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son. "When he went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look at him."

"He don't look to have taken much harm," said Mrs. White, politely.

"I'd like to go to India myself," said the old man, "just to look round a bit, you know."

"Better where you are," said the sergeant-major, shaking his head. He put down the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again.

"I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers," said the old man. "What was that you started telling me the other day about a monkey's paw or something, Morris?"

"Nothing," said the soldier hastily. "Leastways, nothing worth hearing."

"Monkey's paw?" said Mrs. White curiously.

"Well, it's just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps," said the sergeant-major off-handedly.

His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absentmindedly put his empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host filled it for him.

"To look at," said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, "it's just an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy."

He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously.

"And what is there special about it?" inquired Mr. White, as he took it from his son and, having examined it, placed it upon the table.

"It had a spell put on it by an old fakir," said the sergeant-major, "a very holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people's lives, and that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a spell on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes from it."

Click here to read the rest of the story, courtesy of Mount Royal University

How I Helped Defeat Germany In The World Cup

Alright, I accept that my track record in predicting winners during the World Cup has only been so-so (per round accuracy: 67%, 38%, 75%, 50% - yeah, I really took a dive in the second round), but what none of you understand is how I've been quietly undermining my predictions and influencing events.

Evidence:

France v. Uruguay - purchase of Boris beer (made in France) to support France

Result: Draw

England v. USA - purchase of Newcastle Ale

Result: Draw

Italy v. Paraguay - drinking of Italian pinot grigio

Result: Draw

Italy v. New Zealand - drinking of cappuccino

Result: Draw

Chile v. Switzerland - eating of Toblerone

Result: Swiss lose

By this point I was beginning to suspect that something was amiss, so with Italy v. Slovakia in the offing with Italy needing to at least match New Zealand with the prefeable result being an Italian victory and a New Zealand tie, I buy Steinlager, the New Zealand ale. The result: New Zealand ties. Unfortuntaley, some shoddy officiating and lackadaiscal Italian play ends with an Italian loss.

Germany v. England - not really caring who wins, I wear an England T-Shirt AND drink a Newcastle.

Result: England is shellacked and a nation stands stunned.

Netherlands v. Brazil - I make pancakes and realizing in horror what I've done, I (to the horror of my family) spend the rest of the morning pantless and in flip-flops in honour of the Brazillians.

Result: The Dutch win, despite going behind early.

Germany v. Spain - for all my vaunted talk about Spain's destined failure at this World Cup, I buy a case of Beck's.

Result: Germany loses.

What's on tap for the Final? Stella Artois.

World Cup 2010 Semi-Final Predictions

It is on. I think the week following Canada Day in World Cup years is among one of my favourite years going. Between Wimbledon, the Tour de France, and the knock-out rounds of the World Cup, it's possible to lose oneself totally in sports. My predictions for the quarter-finals came in at 75%, with only Argentina's shocking, nay soul-crushing, defeat at the hands of Germany, coming in as an upset. Uruguay, despite the tugging at my heartstrings, beat Ghana, though they needed penalty kicks to do it, and I am still at loss as to how Gian missed the net in the dying seconds of the game...

Having said that, Uruguay suffered a critical loss during the run of the match. In order to block a sure goal, Suarez was forced to handle the ball, earning Ghana the spot kick that Gian missed. However, in doing so, Suarez's red card means that he'll miss Uruguay's semi-final date with Holland. Despite all of their relatively unexpected success, Uruguay has yet to demonstrate anything that will give the Netherlands any degree of difficulty. The Dutch midfield ought to swallow up Diego Forlan, while keeping Robben free reign to terrorize the Uruguayan flanks. It might be tight, but it will never be close. Netherlands.

The Germany-Spanish match, on the otherhand, could go any number of ways but in all likelihood, Germany will will prevail. Puyol, the chief Spanish defender, demonstrated that his speed will be an exploitable issue for the Germans. Further, it remains to be seen whether Spain has anyone capable of shutting down Schwienstieger. Fernando Torres has been invisible so far, and the match-up between Villa and Mertesacker has all the hallmarks of a David v. Goliath showdown. Critically then, Germany gets the edge on things even before we factor in the double monkey paws: no defending European Champion has ever won the World Cup, and no team has ever won the World Cup after losing their opening match. The only omen that Spain has in their favour is that Rafael Nadal won Wimbledon this morning, just as he did prior to Spain's winning of the European Championship. Germany.

June Progress Report

Did I really miss a progress report for May? Hmm...I guess all this soccer is really taking it's toll on things.

May was mostly productive, but the bulk of it was taken up with trying to finish compiling notes from J. Lloyd Trump's A School For Everyone on a education reform project.

I also started a couple of pages for another side project involving my many years at the Stampede. It's a not-quite-ready for prime time idea - I haven't typed anything up yet, so nothing to count for towards the word count, but I'll give more details as they arrive.

Currently, I had an idea regarding Games of Chance that has thrown many things about the novel's potential ending that I'm trying to work out in my end. Towards that end, I've taken to reviewing the early pages for the first time since last fall, in the hopes that it will help me see more clearly how things are developing.

Short Stories:

"Of Light and Darkness" - in revision*

* this is part of my Twilight of the Idle short story series along with"Labellypock", "A Night on the Fronde" and "Out of Time (Ped Xing)"
"How My Uncle Faught The Spanish Civil War" - 1000 words
"Il Brute" - 700 words, a short story about living in Bridgeland

Novel Ideas (and working titles):
A Saturday Afternoon By The Slurpee Machine - 6516 words, growing up in NE Calgary, circa 1990
Games of Chance - 26156 words, quasi-related to the current economic downturn
The Last Days of the Daily Wenzel - 8154 words
Father Borsato di Sangi - notes only, about a priest in small town Alberta, circa 1910, - 127 words
Mt. Pilatus Calls My Name - notes only, a corporate satire- 3111 words

Sisyphus In Hell/I Was Misinformed - 2402 words

Good Ideas At The Time (Whole draft novels):
joculatores domini - in revision, a novel about parking attendants and the Calgary Stampede
The Liminal Trip - in revision, backpacking through Europe,

Trump Project: 9039 words

June's Total Word Count:55701

June Bookends

So, the World Cup transformed June into a big green blur. It seems like it was two months, divided into whatever came before June 11th, and then one extended soccer game afterwards.

I finished reading Nick Hornby's Slam! and look forward to his latest novel Juliet, Naked, since all my friends are basically saying that it nails myself and my CJSW friends and our musical/pop culture obsessions. Slam! was a surprisingly warm and endearing look at teenage pregnancy and coming of age story of a sixteen year old boy obsessed with Tony Hawk.

I also finished a broad overview of the history of educational thinking (in the United States) and it's kind of shocking that it essentially ended in the 1950s. Yes, there was a chapter on Paulo Friere and the merging of liberation theology and education, but nothing by anyone relative to the changes brought about by new technologies.

I also picked up a copy of The Bearded Gentleman, just in time to try and grow a beard during the hottest months of the year. The timing is perfect, n'est-ce pas?

Currently Reading

Douglas Coupland, The Gum Thief (2007)

Books Read

Nick Hornby, Slam! (2008)

Gerald Lee Gutek, Historical and Philosophical Foundations of Education: A Biographical Introduction (2004)

Books Acquired

Allan Peterkin & Nick Burns, The Bearded Gentleman - The Art of Shaving Face (2010)