Untitled or What Do You Know?

Mary DeMuth asks what we know about writing and art, if anything. She says:

I am finally reading My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok. I wish I would’ve read it sooner. I’m halfway through the book where the young Asher Lev, an undiscovered but brilliant artist, meets with his soon-to-be mentor. This is what the mentor says to Asher:

“This is not a toy. This is not a child scrawling on a wall. This is a tradition; it is a religion, Asher Lev. You are entering a religion called painting. It has its fanatics and its rebels. And I will force you to master it. Do you hear me? No one will listen to what you have to say unless they are convinced you have mastered it. Only one who has mastered a tradition has a right to attempt to add to it or to rebel against it. Do you understand me, Asher Lev?”

Then she asks several questions I’m not qualified to answer.

Exhibition of Forgeries

The Brooklyn Museum plans to exhibit art forgeries next year. The curator said, “‘The idea of connoisseurship’ — how scholars examine a work of art in order to determine its authenticity and proper attribution — ‘has a lot of general appeal.'”

Postmortem on a good weekend

Taken all in all, it was a pretty nice weekend.

My major problem was with an earworm. I got intrigued by Coldplay’s song, “Viva La Vida,” as heard on the iPOD commercials. So I checked it out on YouTube, and found the lyrics. Religious references. Interesting.

So I dug deeper, and discovered (as I should have guessed from the beginning) that it’s an anti-Christian song (or at least anti- any form of religion that teaches damnation).

Apparently, in Chris Martin’s world, people who believe there’s a Hell think they rule the world. Believing in final Judgment is arrogant. Believing, on the other hand, that you’re your own supreme authority and will never have to answer to God, testifies to a becoming modesty.

(By the way, the line that says, “Now I sleep alone” is a lie. I know I’m unreasonably criticizing a perfectly good metaphor. I’m sure he doesn’t sweep streets either. But in my opinion any guy who’s married to Gwyneth Paltrow gets diminished tolerance for complaints about his sleeping arrangements.)

So I played the video for Billy Joel’s “The Longest Time” a couple times to wash the earworm out. The apotheosis of Doo-wop, that song.

Robbinsdale held its annual Whiz Bang Days celebration this weekend, and in connection with my usual walk to the Chinese buffet for lunch, I also browsed through the merchant tables. I came away with some cheap DVDs and a touch of dehydration which (I suspect) caused the passing hip pain I endured Saturday night.

Sunday I was all better again, and that was good, because it was another Viking day. Norway Day at Minnehaha Park, Minneapolis. And yes, we did some fighting. I started poorly, but improved as the day wore on. Which goes to show that if I ever get called on to fight with real swords in a post-EMP* world, I’ll do fine as long as I can survive being killed in the first few fights. Continue reading Postmortem on a good weekend

Dirty Harry reviews Klavan’s latest

Dirty Harry reviews Andrew Klavan’s new thriller, Empire of Lies, today.

I tried to order it online myself (not even waiting for the paperback, which is a big decision for me). The problem is, I do my online buying from Barnes & Noble, and they don’t stock the book. Only the audio book.

Hmm, you don’t suppose there’s a political consideration involved, do you?

Taking the Credit

There are disputes over the authorship of two popular Christian poems. “My client wants to preserve for all time the knowledge in the public that his mother wrote this poem,” states one lawyer, and some of us have to ask what the real point of that knowledge would be–credit or money?

The Great Tony Snow

Tony Snow, commentator and former press secretary for the president, died of cancer at 2:00 a.m. this morning at Georgetown University Hospital. He was 53. I think if talk radio commentators were stereotyped as being like Tony Snow, few people would have room to complain about them. He was a great man.

Let me add that I hope to him in heaven. I believe he was Catholic, and I heartily disagree with the doctrine of the Catholic church, but I’ve heard Tony talk about life and dealing with cancer a few times and I believe he understood the gospel.

You know, I never feel much when public figures pass away. I don’t know them, even if I admire them, so I don’t feel more than a bit of disappointment, if that. So why am I crying now?

More on Tony Snow at World

I’m not the man I used to be

I was composing a funny blog entry in my mind today. The premise was that I’d pretend to come clean with you, and admit that I’m not Lars Walker, Norwegian Avoidant has-been author, but Dwight Krupinsky, an insurance adjustor from Spokane with a wife and kids, who’s created this false identity for some reason I never entirely worked out.

It came to nothing, but I had identity on my mind.

Then I stopped for groceries after work, and used my credit card at checkout. I have an old credit card from a certain issuing bank, and it features a picture of me. The bank came up with the picture-on-the card gimmick on the theory that a card with the owner’s picture would be harder to use fraudulently (this was when a lot fewer people had internet access). I don’t think they’ve pushed the program for years, but every time they replace my card, it still has the picture.

It’s actually become counterproductive. Continue reading I’m not the man I used to be

The future is here

Dennis Ingolfsland over at Recliner Commentaries passes on a report from WoodTV 8 in Grand Rapids, MI:

Christian publisher Zondervan is facing a $60 million federal lawsuit filed by a man who claims he and other homosexuals have suffered based on what the suit claims is a misinterpretation of the Bible.

Because the “Gay” movement is all about, you know, live-and-let-live.

Margaret, the Maid of Norway

You run across all sorts of things, surfing the web. Tonight, for no particular reason, I’ll share with you the story of Margaret, the Maid of Norway, a girl who lived only seven years and did nothing at all remarkable, but is nevertheless renowned in the folklore of two countries.

I realize there’s no reason you should be interested in her story, so I’ll attempt to lure you in by notng that Margaret’s story is the backstory to the movie Braveheart.

You’re aware, aren’t you, that, fine as it is as a rousing piece of manly cinema, Braveheart is, from a historical point of view, a load of haggis? The costumes are wrong. The chronology’s mixed up. The battles are inaccurate. And the politics are skewed.

At the beginning of the film, you’ll recall, William Wallace’s father (his brother too? I forget) rides off to a meeting with King Edward I of England, where all the Scots in attendance are treacherously hanged. Such an incident may have happened at an earlier time (it can’t be proven one way or the other), but it didn’t happen to Wallace’s father, and that wasn’t what started the conflict between Edward and the Scots. Continue reading Margaret, the Maid of Norway

Book Reviews, Creative Culture