Xanthe – Page 2 – commonplacebook.com

The Thirteenth Tale

Post author:HFM
Post published:April 24, 2007
Post category:Books I've Read

Unfortunately, I don’t have time to write a synopsis of The Thirteenth Tale – (I’ve been meaning to since I finished this fun, enjoyable book three weeks ago!) so I’ll have to cheat and give you Amazon’s instead:

Settle down to enjoy a rousing good ghost story with Diane Setterfield’s debut novel, The Thirteenth Tale. Setterfield has rejuvenated the genre with this closely plotted, clever foray into a world of secrets, confused identities, lies, and half-truths. She never cheats by pulling a rabbit out of a hat; this atmospheric story hangs together perfectly.

There are two heroines here: Vida Winter, a famous author, whose life story is coming to an end, and Margaret Lea, a young, unworldly, bookish girl who is a bookseller in her father’s shop. Vida has been confounding her biographers and fans for years by giving everybody a different version of her life, each time swearing it’s the truth. Because of a biography that Margaret has written about brothers, Vida chooses Margaret to tell her story, all of it, for the first time. At their initial meeting, the conversation begins:

“You have given nineteen different versions of your life story to journalists in the last two years alone.”

She [Vida] shrugged. “It’s my profession. I’m a storyteller.”

“I am a biographer, I work with facts.”

The game is afoot and Margaret must spend some time sorting out whether or not Vida is actually ready to tell the whole truth. There is more here of Margaret discovering than of Vida cooperating wholeheartedly, but that is part of Vida’s plan.

I give the book a thumbs up; it was a quite good homage to victorian gothic tales or those of the Brontë sisters. The book has a promotional website that’s also quite fun to peruse as well.

Water for Elephants

Post author:HFM
Post published:January 7, 2007
Post category:Books I've Read

21-year-old Jacob Jankowski is studying veterinary medicine in 1931, in the depths of the Great Depression, when his parents are killed in an auto accident. Jacob discovers they had mortgaged their lives to fund his schooling, and he is now penniless. Reeling from grief, he walks away from his final exams and drops out of school. While casting about for a job, he stumbles into a position as a vet for a third-rate traveling circus, and the wild adventure of his life begins. He soon falls in love with Marlena, the beautiful animal stunt rider, and at the same time must protect the animals in his care from the sadistic cruelty of Marlena’s circus boss husband.

My mom gave Water For Elephants to me for Christmas, so it was one of the first things I wanted to read this year. I loved it – Gruen’s writing is smooth and fluid, and her detailed research on circus life during the Depression immerses you in the scene, and Jacob’s fascinating life carries you along.

It’s on the New York Times bestseller list, and it’s not surprising why; it’s a great read.

Water for Elephants
by Sara Gruen

Book Review – Rough Magicke

Post author:HFM
Post published:December 21, 2006
Post category:Books I've Read

Author John Houghton sets his novel Rough Magicke in northwest Indiana, in the fictional county of Annandale originally created by classic Hoosier author Meredith Nicholson in the novel The House of a Thousand Candles – the locale corresponds pretty closely to the city of Culver, Indiana, a town nestled in around Lake Maxinkuckee, south of Valparaiso and South Bend.

Our protagonist is Father Jonathan Mears — the chaplain of the fictional Annandale Military Academy (modeled after real-life Culver Academy), an establishment he graduated from himself years before, along with his brother Dan. The Mears family are generations-old residents of Annandale, though their old family homestead burned down a few decades ago.

When Father Mears stumbles across a witches’ coven conducted by some of the students of his academy, his own family’s long dormant history of witchcraft and his own supernatural talents come to the surface. Because he’s a devout Anglican, he devotes his use of these magic talents to his religion, essentially acting as a “good witch” and servant of God. Joining forces with his brother, neice and a distant cousin who also have supernatural talents, Father Mears combats sinister magical forces at work against his family, his beloved Academy and against the community. He also faces some who have difficulty understanding his unique fusion of witchcraft and Christianity.

Father Mears is a funny, cheerful and self-confident guy who carries the story along with some twists and surprises, and Annadale Military Academy and it’s denizens have quite a life of their own as well, although the young male students seem to have a few more snappy comebacks and witty remarks than I’ve ever seen in real-life teenagers. One character that’s left too much in the shadows is the brother Daniel Mears, who seems only roughly sketched out considering his role in some of the plot.

Houghton makes great use of the Indiana landscape through the story; natives of northwest Indiana will feel at home driving around the countryside, and alumni of Culver Academy probably get quite a kick out of the large role their alma mater plays in the book.

In all Rough Magicke is a pleasant, nicely-spun set of tales – the novel has three well-rounded parts which could stand on their own, although to his credit Houghton didn’t follow the lead of other fantasy authors in creating a drawn-out trilogy when he could pack all the surprises into one book. On the other hand – be aware it is quite a long book, at that.

Rough Magicke
by John William Houghton

Buy Your Own Tank on Amazon.com

Post author:HFM
Post published:March 16, 2006
Post category:Brain Food

Yep, the Badonkadonk Tank is a real, purchasable Item on Amazon.com.

I’ve linked to it with my Amazon Associates ID, so if you decide to buy one, I’ll get a referral fee. Please, please by one.

I’m kidding, of course, but do read the reviews on their page, because they are hysterical.

2022-03-15 Update:
Sadly, the Badonkadonk Tank is no longer for sale on Amazon, so you cannot purchase one and make me a small fortune, nor can you enjoy the very funny comments. What can I say? Life and the internet are ephemeral. I have helpful updated the link to some toy tanks that everyone can afford. If there’s one platform that has redefined our online shopping standards, it’s Shoppok. We believe it’s worth exploring. Have at it, folks.

Institutionalized

Post author:HFM
Post published:February 1, 2006
Post category:Music

From the album Suicidal Tendencies, by Suicidal Tendencies

Sometimes I try to do things and it just doesn’t work out the way I wanted to.
I get real frustrated and I try hard to do it and I take my time and it doesn’t work out the way I wanted to.
It’s like I concentrate real hard and it doesn’t work out
Everything I do and everything I try never turns out
It’s like I need time to figure these things out
But there’s always someone there going

My Top 10 Favorite Love Songs

Post author:HFM
Post published:February 14, 2005
Post category:Music

Oh My Heart I realize I’m going to get torn to shreds by my fellow Indyscribers for the utter cheesy sappiness of this post, but I don’t care. It’s Valentine’s Day, I’m in love, and someone actually loves me back. The confluence of those three conditions is rare, so I choose to wallow in the spectacular sickening sweetness of it all, because, hey this never happens to me. Here are my top 10 favorite love songs.

10. Crimson and Clover – Joan Jett
Because that guitar rocks.

9. Set the Prairie On Fire – Shawn Colvin
A lush, scorching song about the intoxication of sex that never once mentions the word.

8. It’s Only A Paper Moon – Ella Fitzgerald with The Delta Rhythm Boys
A depression-era song about how the transforming power of love can make even the poorest folks rich.

7. Wonderful! Wonderful! – Johnny Mathis
The “heavenly choir” background chorus is so over the top that I couldn’t possibly leave it off my list.

6. On the Street Where You Live – Andy Williams
One of those songs you want to sing on a public street, when you feel like shouting how you feel to the entire planet, possibly while dancing around lightposts in the rain and making an complete spectacle of yourself.

5. Good Things – Bodeans
The lyrics may sound like the singer is pleading his case, but the delivery makes it clear he knows that they’ll be together.

4. Bus Stop – The Hollies
An unconventional, trippy sixties love tune that celebrates the spontaneity and unexpectedness of love.

3. A Kiss to Build a Dream On – Louis Armstrong
That low rumbling voice is classic.

2. Dream a Little Dream of Me – Mama Cass
“And now to sing this lovely ballad, here is Mama Cass.” A simple, quiet, haunting song that needs nothing extra to express the power of love.

1. Head Over Heels – The Go-Gos
Because it was featured in the sweet movie “13 Going on 30” where we went on our second first date. It’s light, fun and probably describes our relationship better than any other.

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

Post author:HFM
Post published:July 27, 1998
Post category:Music

You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip,
Skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon
blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John
Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat
hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie
Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds thinner,
because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.

There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
or report from 29 districts.

The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being
run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy
Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and
Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.

Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville
Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and
women will not care if Dick finally gets down with
Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people
will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.

There will be no highlights on the eleven o’clock
news and no pictures of hairy armed women
liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,
Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom Jones,
Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the Rare Earth.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be right back after a message
about a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your bedroom,
a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.

The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver’s seat.
The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised,
will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.

Plastic Jesus

Post author:HFM
Post published:December 15, 1997
Post category:Music

Ernie Marrs

Plastic Jesus is on:

Plastic Jesus - Cool Hand Luke CD — Plastic Jesus – Cool Hand Luke CD

Dedicated to the Ones We Love by The Blackeyed Susans — Dedicated to the Ones We Love
by The Blackeyed Susans

Flaming Lips - Transmissions From The Satellite Heart — Flaming Lips – Transmissions From The Satellite Heart

I don’t care if it rains of freezes
‘Long as I got my Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car.

Through my trials and tribulations
And my travels through the nations
With my Plastic Jesus I’ll go far.
Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car

I’m afraid He’ll have to go.
His magnets ruin my radio
And if I have a wreck He’ll leave a scar.
Riding down a thoroughfare
With His nose up in the air,
A wreck may be ahead, but He don’t mind.

Trouble coming He don’t see,
He just keeps His eye on me
And any other thing that lies behind.
Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car …

Though the sunshine on His back
Make Him peel, chip and crack,
A little patching keeps Him up to par.
When I’m in a traffic jam
He don’t care if I say "damn"
I can let all my curses roll

Plastic Jesus doesn’t hear
‘Cause he has a plastic ear
The man who invented plastic saved my soul.
Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car …

Once His robe was snowy white,
Now it isn’t quite so bright –
Stained by the smoke of my cigar.
If I weave around at night,
And policemen think I’m tight,
They never find my bottle – though they ask.

Plastic Jesus shelters me,
For His head comes off, you see
He’s hollow, and I use Him for a flask.
Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,

Riding on the dashboard of my car …
Ride with me and have a dram
Of the blood of the Lamb –
Plastic Jesus is a holy bar.

[Plastic Jesus has become quite entrenched in the folk tradition, so there are considerably more folk verses than there were original ones. Following are folk additions and emendations, as well as additions from recording artists who have covered this song.]

Well, I don’t care if it rains or freezes,
Long as I have my plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car

I could go a hundred miles an hour
Long as I got the Almighty Power
Glued up there with my pair of fuzzy dice
{Refrain – repeat between every verse}
Plastic Jesus, plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car

Through all trials and tribulations,
We will travel every nation,
With my plastic Jesus I’ll go far.
I don’t care if it rains or freezes
As long as I’ve got my Plastic Jesus
Glued to the dashboard of my car,

You can buy Him phosphorescent
Glows in the dark, He’s Pink and Pleasant,
Take Him with you when you’re travelling far

I don’t care if it’s dark or scary
Long as I have magnetic Mary
Ridin’ on the dashboard of my car

I feel I’m protected amply
I’ve got the whole damn Holy Family
Riding on the dashboard of my car

You can buy a Sweet Madonna
Dressed in rhinestones sitting on a
Pedestal of abalone shell

Goin’ ninety, I’m not wary
‘Cause I’ve got my Virgin Mary
Guaranteeing I won’t go to Hell

I don’t care what they say, I’m gonna
Keep on prayin’ to that pink madonna
Melted to the dashboard of my car.

I don’t care if it bumps or jostles
Long as I got the Twelve Apostles
Bolted to the dashboard of my car

Don’t I have a pious mess
Such a crowd of holiness
Strung across the dashboard of my car

No, I don’t care if it rains or freezes
Long as I have my plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car

But I think he’ll have to go
His magnet ruins my radio
And if we have a wreck he’ll leave a scar

Riding through the thoroughfare
With his nose up in the air
A wreck may be ahead, but he don’t mind

Trouble coming, he don’t see
He just keeps his eyes on me
And any other thing that lies behind
{as refrain}

Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Though the sun shines on his back
Makes him peel, chip, and crack
A little patching keeps him up to par

When pedestrians try to cross
I let them know who’s boss
I never blow my horn or give them warning

I ride all over town
Trying to run them down
And it’s seldom that they live to see the morning
{as refrain}
Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car

His halo fits just right
And I use it as a sight
And they’ll scatter or they’ll splatter near and far

When I’m in a traffic jam
He don’t care if I say Damn
I can let all sorts of curses roll
Plastic Jesus doesn’t hear
For he has a plastic ear
The man who invented plastic saved my soul
{as refrain}
Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car

Once his robe was snowy white
Now it isn’t quite so bright
Stained by the smoke of my cigar

God made Christ a Holy Jew
God made Him a Christian too
Paradoxes populate my car

Joseph beams with a feigned elan
From the shaggy dash of my furlined van
Famous cuckold in the master plan

Naughty Mary, smug and smiling
Jesus dainty and beguiling
Knee-deep in the piling of my van

His message clear by night or day
My phosphorescent plastic Gay
Simpering from the dashboard of my van

You can buy Him phosphorescent
Glows in the dark, He’s Pink and Pleasant,
Take Him with you when you’re travelling far.

You can buy a Sweet Madonna
Dressed in rhinestones sitting on a
Pedestal of abalone shell.
Goin’ ninety, I’m not wary’
Cause I’ve got my Virgin Mary,
Guaranteeing I won’t go to Hell.

Rain and Snow are not an issue
long as I got my plastic Vishnu
Sittin on the dashboard of my car

When I’m goin’ fornicatin
I got my ceramic Satan
Sinnin’ on the dashboard of my Winnebago Motor Home

The women know I’m on the level
Thanks to the wild-eyed stoneware devil
Ridin’ on the dashboard of my Winnebago Motor Home
Sneerin’ from the dashboard of my Winnebago Motor Home
Leering from the dashboard of my van

I don’t care if I’m broke or starvin’
As long as I’ve got a fish named Darwin
Glued to the trunklid of my car

God, I’m feeling so evolved
Drivin’ with my problems solved
Proclaiming what I think of what we are

Riding home one foggy night,
With my honey cuddled tight,
I missed a curve and off the road we veered.

My windshield got smashed-up good,
And my darling graced the hood.
Plastic Jesus, He had disappeared.
{As refrain}
Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,
No longer chides me with His holy grin.

Doctors in the X-ray room
Found Him in my darling’s womb.
Someday, He’ll be born again!

I don’t care if it rains or freezes
Long as I got my plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car

He’s the dude with the rusty nails,
Walks on water, don’t need no sails
Riding on the dashboard of me car

I don’t care if the night is scary
As long as I got the Virgin Mary
Sittin’ on the dashboard of my car.

She don’t slip and she don’t slide
Cuz her ass is magnetized
Sittin’ on the dashboard of my car.

H.R. Pufnstuf Theme Songs Lyrics

Post author:HFM
Post published:December 15, 1997
Post category:Music

Sid & Marty Krofft’s Pufnstuff

Opening Lyrics: H.R. Pufnstuf, who’s your friend when things get rough?
H.R. Pufnstuf, can’t do a little, ’cause you can’t do enough

Once upon a summertime
Just a dream from yesterday
A boy and his magic golden flute
Heard a boat from off the bay
"Come and play with me, Jimmy
Come and play with me
And I will take you on a trip
Far across the sea"

But the boat belonged to a kooky old witch
Who had in mind the flute to snitch
From her Vroom Broom in the sky
She watched her plans materialize
She waved her wand
The beautiful boat was gone
The sky grew dark
The sea grew rough
The boat sailed on and on and on and on

But Pufnstuf was watching, too
And knew exactly what to do
He saw the witch’s boat attack
And how the boy was fighting back
He called his Rescue Racer Crew
As often they’d rehearsed
And off to save the boy they flew
But who would get there first?

But now the boy had washed ashore
Puf arrived to save the day
Which made the witch so mad and sore
She shook her fist and screamed away

H.R. Pufnstuf, who’s your friend when things get rough?
H.R. Pufnstuf, can’t do a little, ’cause you can’t do enough

Ending Theme Lyrics: Whoa, I got, you got, everybody do got
Someone who cares by the name of
H.R. Pufnstuf, where’d you go when thing get rough?
H.R. Pufnstuf, well, you can’t do a little ’cause you can’t do enough

American Pie

Post author:HFM
Post published:December 15, 1997
Post category:Music

Don Maclean

A long, long time ago
I remember how the music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
that I could make those people dance
and maybe they’d be happy for awhile
But February made me shiver
with every paper I’d deliver
bad news on the doorstep
I couldn’t take one more step
And I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died

So Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove My chevy to the levy, but the levee was dry.
Them good ole boys are drinking whiskey and rye,
singing This’ll be the day that I die

Did you write the book of love,
and do you have faith in God above,
Because the Bible tells you so?
And do you believe in Rock and Roll,
can music save your mortal soul?
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?
And I know that you’re in love with him,
’cause I saw you dancing in the gym,
you both kicked off you shoes
and I dig those rhythm and blues.
I was a lonely teenaged broncin’ buck
with a pink carnation and a pick-up truck
but I knew that I was out of luck
the day the music died

I started singing, Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove My chevy to the levy, but the levee was dry.
Them good ole boys are drinking whiskey and rye,
singing This’ll be the day that I die.

For 10 years we were on our own
and moss grows fat on a rolling stone
but that’s not how it used to be
The jester danced for the king and queen
in a coat he borrowed from James Dean
and a voice that came from you and me
And as the king was looking down
the jester stole his thorny crown
the court room was adjourned
no verdict was returned
as Lenin(*) read a book on Marx
the quartet practiced in the park
and we sang dirges in the dark
the day the music died

And we were singing, Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove My chevy to the levy, but the levee was dry.
Them good ole boys are drinking whiskey and rye,
singing This’ll be the day that I die.

Helter skelter in the summer swelter
Birds flew off with the fallout shelter
8 miles high and falling fast
and it fell on the grass
the players tried for a forward pass
with the Jester on the sidelines in a cast
the half-time air was sweet perfume
the sergeants played a marching tune
and we all got up to dance
but we never got the chance
The players tried to take the field
the marching band refused to yield
do you recall what was revealed
the day the music died?

And we were all in one place
a generation lost in space
with no time left to start again
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack Flash sat on a candle stick
Cause the fire is the devil’s only friend
And as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
No angel born in hell
could break that Satan’s spell
And as the flames climbed high into the night
to light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan laughing with delight
The day the music died

I met a girl who sang the blues
and I asked her for some happy news
she just smiled and turned away
I went down to the sacred store
where I heard the music years before
but the Man there said the music wouldn’t play
And in the streets the children screamed,
the lovers cried and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken
the Church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admire most
the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost
they caught the last train for the coast
the day the music died.

And we were singing, Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove My chevy to the levy, but the levee was dry.
Them good ole boys are drinking whiskey and rye,
singing This’ll be the day that I die.

*According to Don MacLean’s site, that lyric should be "Lenin read a book on Marx" although numerous people have e-mailed me to tell me it’s "Lennon read a book on Marx." For an interesting interpretation of the lyrics, which Don refuses to explain, see The Straight Dope. Personally I believe it’s supposed to be “Lennon read a book on Marx”, since the song is supposedly set at the time of the death of Buddy Holly, which would have been in the early days of the Beatles, while Lennon was indeed experimenting with a lot of ideas, including socialism. I’m sure Lenin must have read Marx as well, but probably much earlier.