Very funny. Not only is the subtext of the speech keenly apposite, but so is the crasser physical comparison between McCain and The Penguin.
One thing. I was floored there by a mild Alzheimeresque episode, when I realised I can no longer remember the name of the actor. I do remember he was excellent in an a very early version of Rod Serling's "Twilight Zone" - the one where he sits down myopically on the library steps to get a handle on all those classics he's missed out on reading, and inadvertently sends his spectacles crashing onto the sidewalk.
Ib, what a guy you are! God only knows what kind of short circuiting damaged synapses connected to summon up this memory, but I believe that was Burgess Meredith. Pause. Damn, a visit to Wikipedia confirms it. Yes, as a nerdy child whose greatest joys were huddling under the covers, listening to the WMCA good guys on my transistor radio and reading with a flash light, I loved that episode of the Twilight Zone. If only all of those mean grownups would just go away, I could finally settle down and do some real reading.
Jesus! Thanks, Jon. It WAS Burgess Meredith. That episode was brilliant; the writing, the acting - everything. They don't make tv shows like that anymore, more's the pity.
I used to bunk off school when there was nobody else home and spend all day in bed reading. Then get dressed and come back in as though from a hard day's classwork. This was before I discovered booze, of course.
Yes, booze gave my young life meaning and purpose, for a while. I still have, somewhere in a box, one of my last attempts to keep a teenage journal. Those old journals aren't that interesting. I had already figured out that life is like prison and you shouldn't give up anything about yourself, especially not to yourself. It gets worse as my writing turns to a scrawl and ends with "too drunk to do this."
That certainly reverberates. I don't remember now if the full realisation that life is a damn prison sank in before or after my first encounter with the DTs. It knocked me for six, certainly, but I still had clarity; even if the projected movie seemed to be shot in soft focus a lot of the time, with little depth of field.
Very funny. Not only is the subtext of the speech keenly apposite, but so is the crasser physical comparison between McCain and The Penguin.
ReplyDeleteOne thing. I was floored there by a mild Alzheimeresque episode, when I realised I can no longer remember the name of the actor. I do remember he was excellent in an a very early version of Rod Serling's "Twilight Zone" - the one where he sits down myopically on the library steps to get a handle on all those classics he's missed out on reading, and inadvertently sends his spectacles crashing onto the sidewalk.
Damn. I hate it when my memory fails me.
Ib, what a guy you are! God only knows what kind of short circuiting damaged synapses connected to summon up this memory, but I believe that was Burgess Meredith. Pause. Damn, a visit to Wikipedia confirms it. Yes, as a nerdy child whose greatest joys were huddling under the covers, listening to the WMCA good guys on my transistor radio and reading with a flash light, I loved that episode of the Twilight Zone. If only all of those mean grownups would just go away, I could finally settle down and do some real reading.
ReplyDeleteJesus! Thanks, Jon. It WAS Burgess Meredith. That episode was brilliant; the writing, the acting - everything. They don't make tv shows like that anymore, more's the pity.
ReplyDeleteI used to bunk off school when there was nobody else home and spend all day in bed reading. Then get dressed and come back in as though from a hard day's classwork. This was before I discovered booze, of course.
Yes, booze gave my young life meaning and purpose, for a while. I still have, somewhere in a box, one of my last attempts to keep a teenage journal. Those old journals aren't that interesting. I had already figured out that life is like prison and you shouldn't give up anything about yourself, especially not to yourself. It gets worse as my writing turns to a scrawl and ends with "too drunk to do this."
ReplyDeleteThat certainly reverberates. I don't remember now if the full realisation that life is a damn prison sank in before or after my first encounter with the DTs. It knocked me for six, certainly, but I still had clarity; even if the projected movie seemed to be shot in soft focus a lot of the time, with little depth of field.
ReplyDelete