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The Abortion: A Historical Romance 1966 - Richard Brautigan
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Books
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I needed this, lyric, light, poetic, humorous, romantic. A break from William S. Burroughs, who's brilliance is undiminished but whose taste in romance is very much at odds with my own.
The cover, orange, with a black and white photo of the author (droopy handlebar moustache, long greasy blonde hair) beside a beautiful woman in a trench coat, both leaning up against a stone pillar in front of what could be the library described in his book. And the woman, in her trench coat, buttons placed so as to represent the nipples of her breasts if it were removed, perfectly slouched. I'm intrigued enough to suspect that it's some juvenilia doodled by a previous owner, but attempting to erase it does nothing. Merely a good photo that gives some indication of both the era (1966), the author, and the love interest Vida.
The library, staffed by the narrator, is a repository for first editions, unpublished manuscripts dropped off by unpublished authors, at all hours. All manner of authors bring their cherished manuscripts there to place them upon the shelf, including Richard Brautigan himself (a clever trick, also done frequently by Cendrars, to introduce himself in the third person into the novel...).
And the book meanders from there.
Read more on Brautigan here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Brautigan
And read about the library it inspired here: https://cchmuseum.org/brautigan-library/
The Oscars
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 253
Called in to work, we've a big booking, the Civic is doing a Oscars Screening, we have the large screen TV they require...
Complete and utter bollocks, but I knew that. No surprises there, and a day off thwarted to work this, well...
Playing to an audience almost exclusively of women within my age range, who for reasons of taste will be completely, entirely off limits, just their presence at this event is a red flag, hell, it's a full-on stars-and-stripes, and the vacuity of the ceremonies can't distract me from the very real fact that the rest of the world is gone to shit, and maybe that's why they're all here, in need of some diversion from the real world at the moment, but somehow it all just seems a little extra trite...
Magic and Mystery - Houdini/Dunninger
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Books
- Hits: 372
Written by Houdini & Dunninger as a rebuttal to late Victorian/Early 20th Century Spiritualism & Seances, it outlines the tricks used by Mediums & Spiritualists and explains (for the most part) how their "communications" were effected.
Houdini, of course, the world famous magician and escape artist, and Dunninger - at the time as well a famous stage magician.
Now, describing all the various effects they accomplished - glowing instruments hanging in the air and being played by invisible spirits, the casts of limbs in paraffin, the writing on slates, levitating tables, glowing ectoplasm & cheesecloths coughed up by mediums, spirit photographs, the bar back in the day was a heck of a lot higher. I say this because once I was invited to a "similar" event hosted by a popular radio psychic in Airdrie, and not a single one of these tricks were employed, nothing, in fact, that would convince the even the most gullible of idiots there was "another side" that was being drawn upon. But, oddly enough, she was pretty popular in Alberta. Look at the politics and go figure.
Now, in the explanations (and the descriptions of the seances, which Houdini and Dunninger frequently attended with no other intent than to debunk) they frequently call upon a confederate (or 2, or 3), as well as the occasional dwarf (to fit inside hidden compartments in the Spirit Cabinet, or under the floorboards or wherever they might be needed. Discount dwarves are no longer a dime a dozen, which might somewhat explain how the standards have slipped...
Humorous, albeit not terribly enlightening, although it amused me to think of how they spent their spare time, tracking down and enjoying other "Magicians" who frequently were making even greater sums than they were for performing (poorly) but a small repertoire of tricks. Their exposing of them fits in with a long line of Magicians exposing frauds, including Johnny Carson (vs Uri Geller), The Amazing Randi and Derren Brown. Yet for all the exposes and abundance of evidence to counter these miracles people still choose to believe...
I'm in the wrong business...
Balfour 2025
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 264
Monday, head out of town. The weather's fine, as good as it'll get, there's been a lot of snow, a lot of rain, it's warming up, out to Balfour to look for artifacts.
It's been a few months since I made the trip, the trees, stripped of leaves, show how much the lakefront is filling in, 2nd, 3rd properties on lots that once held a single lakefront property.
The character of the lake, the town, it's changing, has been for a while. Not for the better.
Arriving at Balfour, first thing I notice - the property 2 lots down from the restaurant has been sold. Maybe 150 meters of lakefront, now cleared of trees and being built up by excavators. Asking around, apparently it'll be a trailer court for 55+ retirees.
It's ugly. Ugly as fuck and the lack of trees mean that it's a least 20, probably 30 years from being presentable.
Then there's the restaurant and it's neighbour. The neighbour, I've mentioned him before, a local "Character", by which I mean hostile abusive drunk. He's been banned from contacting any number of people on Facebook, he's the kind of ass that thinks threats of violence and Nazi salutes are funny. His property, it's been improved after his own mind and model of self improvement, more grey modular homes, garages, the property is now filled with them, side by side, garages filled with vehicles - how many does anyone need? More and then some it would appear. And other buildings, rentals perhaps, or guest accommodations, all so closely packed you'd wonder how they get in. It's a dump, formalized with a lot of crummy and probably unauthorized buildings.
***
Then there's the restaurant. Smoke coming from the chimney, somebody's home, garbage piled high outside the staff accommodations. That probably can be attributed to SR's absence this summer, he was responsible for the management of the property, without him it's gone to shit. JR will have done nothing.
Apparently the restaurant has sold. Or is about to sell. Soon. There's a bidding war. I see posts on Facebook by the customers it never had looking forward to the new, better owners that will win back their business. And I've heard from acquaintances that it's sold, or is selling,...
All this talk of it's selling, it selling, it's proof it hasn't sold. That it didn't sell, that it'll be that liability on their hands again this summer and thank god I'll have other plans and won't have to go back there and work.
***
The Ferry landing, the strike tent in the middle of the traffic lanes. The washrooms, at the top of the landing, they've finally gotten fucking smart, gendered the bathrooms. A men's and a women's. And where the mens (ungendered) used to have a single stall they now have 2 stalls and a urinal. 3 times the capacity. I can't speak for the women's but safe to presume it's doubled. This, 2 years after the improvements, could have been done at a fraction of the cost and double the quality when they were building it, but they were too much the fuckwits.
That said, the strike, ongoing, US/Canada relations, well, ....all these improvements to infrastructure, the uglification of Balfour, to what avail? The people are disappearing, the world is changing, and no ferry means we need no improvements to the landing, why would we, things are not what they once were...
***
Change, that spotted over the past 4 months, since last I was out here, it's startling. Things have been going on. Not good things, but things nonetheless.
I head down to look for arrowheads. 3 1/2 hours spent stooped, bent double, crouched, looking at rocks on the foreshore. The lake is low, there's lots new exposed. That said, no great treasures. A couple of worked pieces of flint, an old scraper, nothing to photograph or write home about. When the bus comes to take me back to Nelson I'm pretty grateful. When I get to Nelson I stop at the candy store, treat myself to $10 worth of school chalk (Licorice), the last they have. And then at the Kootenay Bakery for a half dozen salted chocolate cookies. I have no idea where this sweet tooth has come from but I'm doing my best to accommodate it. And damn if it isn't all just tasting mighty fine...
***
And in the days following I'm realizing I need exercise, yoga, this bending double for a few hours has seriously wounded me, my every muscle, and summer's coming, summer's soon, and I can't be this out of shape...
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