I woke up two hours ago with my trailer jerking in the wind and the moon silver-bright through the window (beautiful but unwelcome to sleepy eyes). The trailer always rocks in high winds, but this is different, sharp and jolting like a series of airy earthquakes.
Every time I start to slip back into sleep another round hits. A couple of times, things have fallen off shelves. Nervous dogs begged for spots on my sleeping bag. So here I am, awake but fog-headed. Covered in canines. And soothing myself with a favorite bit of Shelley:
Rough wind, that moanest loud
Grief too sad for song;
Wild wind, when sullen cloud
Knells all the night long;
Sad storm whose tears are vain,
Bare woods, whose branches strain,
Deep caves and dreary main —
Wail, for the world’s wrong!
Y’know, it just occurred to me that Shelley makes a lot more sense when you’re a romantic 18-year-old than he does when you’re a cynical been-there-done-it-all trying to get back to sleep. Ah well.
Since sleep is impossible, here’s some news (some of which is actually olds, since I’ve been saving it up a few days) …
- Blowing the whistle on government wrongdoing shouldn’t be a crime.
- Speaking of government wrongdoing, are those California cops in the pay of Apple, or what?
- More on the Obama-Dodd “reform” bill. It’ll not only prop up the biggest of all financial scoundrels; it’ll do so at the expense of the most responsible and well-managed community banks. And I wonder how many millions of Americans go on supporting the bill simply because “We’ve got to DO SOMETHING about Wall Street!”
- If you’ve never heard of Robert Hicks maybe you should have. He was a good, bold man.
- This is the best explanation I’ve seen of “Why They’re Still Government Motors.” GM’s untruth in advertising is just stunning. Talk about a Big Lie! They could give Goebbels lessons.
Back to more personal stuff … I watched The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus on DVD tonight. Gorgeously weird. Typical Terry Gilliam visual head trip. The acting is mostly very good. Christopher Plummer is super as the wearily immortal Dr. P and so is Tom Waits as his devilish adversary, Mr. Nick. My heartthrob Johnny Depp probably gives the weakest performance in the film — although he, Jude Law, and Colin Ferrel stand in cleverly to fill fragments of the role Heath Ledger left undone.
Unfortunately, the plot’s a mess and there are a few places where you’d really be better off not asking yourself if what just happened is exactly logical (even within the strange logic of the the doctor’s behind-the-mirror world).
But about 3/4 of the way through, there’s an absolutely hysterical bit in which a troop of dancing cops tries to recruit four Russian gangsters, singing about how thuggery is so much more enjoyable when it’s legal.
I swear, the routine could have been written my one of my friends. I looked briefly for a clip of it on You Tube. Didn’t find one. If anybody out there has a link, would you post it in the comments section?
Now, with apologies for any possible misspellings, illogics, or other artifacts of a storm-tossed night, I’m going to attempt to go back to sleep.