Monday, September 30, 2013
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Reunion
John Cheever
The last time I saw my father was in Grand Central Station. I was going from my grandmother’s in the Adirondacks to a cottage on the Cape that my mother had rented, and I wrote my father that I would be in New York between trains for an hour and a half, and asked if we could have lunch together. His secretary wrote to say that he would meet me at the information booth at noon, and at twelve o’ clock sharp I saw
him coming through the crowd.
He was a stranger to me -- my mother divorced him three years ago and I hadn’t been with him since -- but as soon as I saw him I felt that he was my father, my flesh and blood,
my future and my doom. I knew that when I was grown I would be something like him; I would have to plan my campaigns within his limitations. He was a big, good-looking man, and I was terribly happy to see him again. He struck me on the back and shook my hand. "Hi, Charlie," he said, "Hi, boy. I’d like to
take you up to my club, but it’s in the Sixties, and if you have to catch an early train I guess we’d better get something to eat around here." He put his arm around me, and I smelled my father the way my mother sniffs a rose. It was a rich compound of whiskey and after shave lotion, shoe polish, woolens, and the rankness of a mature male. I hoped that someone would see us together. I wished that we could be photographed. I wanted some record of our having been together.
We went out of the station and up a side street to a restaurant. It was still early, and the place
was empty. The bartender was quarreling with a delivery boy, and there was one very old waiter in a red
coat down by the kitchen floor. We sat down and my father hailed the waiter in a loud voice.
"Kellner!" he shouted. "Garcon! Cameriere! You!"
His boisterousness in the empty restaurant seemed out of place.
"Could we have a little service here?" he shouted. “Chop-chop.” Then he clapped his hands. This
caught the waiter’s attention, and he shuffled over to our table.
"Were you clapping your hands at me?" he asked.
"Calm down, calm down, Sommelier," my father said. "If it isn’t too much to ask of you, if it
wouldn’t be too much above and beyond the call of duty, we would like a couple of Beefeater Gibsons."
"I don’t like to be clapped at," the waiter said.
"I should have brought my whistle," my father said. "I have a whistle that is audible only to the
ears of old waiters. Now, take out your little pad and your little pencil and see if you can get this straight:
two Beefeater Gibsons. Repeat after me: two Beefeater Gibsons."
"I think you’d better go somewhere else," the waiter said quietly.
"That," said my father, "is one of the most brilliant suggestions I have ever heard. C’mon, Charlie,
let’s get the hell out of here."
I followed my father out of that restaurant and into another. He was not so boisterous this time.
Our drinks came, and he cross questioned me about the baseball season. He then struck the edge of his
empty glass with his knife and began shouting again.
"Garcon! Kellner! Cameriere! You! Could we trouble you to bring us two more of the same?"
"How old is the boy?""That is none of your God damned business."
"I’m sorry, sir," the waiter said, "but I won’t serve the boy another drink."
"Well, I have some news for you," my father said. "I have some very interesting news for you.
This doesn’t happen to be the only restaurant in New York. They’ve opened another on the corner.
C’mon, Charlie."
He paid the bill, and I followed him out of that restaurant into another. Here the waiters wore
pink jackets like hunting coats, and there was a lot of horse tack on the walls. We sat down, and my
father began to shout again.
"Master of the hounds! Tallyhoo and all that sort of thing. We’d like a little something in the way
of a stirrup cup. Namely, two Bibson Geefeaters."
"Two Bibson Geefeaters?" the waiter asked, smiling.
"You know damned well what I want," my father said angrily. "I want two Beefeater Gibsons, and
make it snappy. Things have changed in jolly old England. So my friend the duke tells me. Let’s see what
England can produce in the way of a cocktail."
"This isn’t England," the waiter said.
"Don’t argue with me," my father said. "Just do as you’re told."
"I just thought you might like to know where you are," the waiter said.
"If there is one thing I cannot tolerate," my father said, "it is an impudent domestic. C’mon,
Charlie."
The fourth place we went to was Italian.
"Per favore, possiamo avere due cocktail americani. Subito."
The waiter left us and spoke with the captain, who came over to our table and said, "I’m sorry,
sir, but this table is reserved."
"All right," my father said. "Get us another table."
"All the tables are reserved," the captain said.
"I get it," my father said. "You don’t desire our patronage. Is that it? Well, the hell with you. Vada
all’ inferno. Let’s go, Charlie."
"I have to get my train," I said.
"I’m sorry, sonny," my father said. "I’m terribly sorry." He put his arm around me and pressed me
against him. "I’ll walk you back to the station. If there had only been time to go up to my club."
"That’s all right, Daddy," I said.
"I’ll get you a paper," he said. "I’ll get you a paper to read on the train."
Then he went up to a newsstand and said, "Kind sir, will you be good enough to favor me with
one of your God damned, no good, ten cent afternoon papers?" The clerk turned away from him and
stared at a magazine cover. "Is it asking too much, kind sir," my father said, "is it asking too much for you
to sell me one of your disgusting specimens of yellow journalism?"
"I have to go, Daddy," I said. "It’s late."
"Now, just wait a second, sonny," he said. "Just wait a second. I want to get a rise out of this
chap."
"Goodbye, Daddy," I said, and I went down the stairs and got my train, and that was the last time
I saw my father.
The last time I saw my father was in Grand Central Station. I was going from my grandmother’s in the Adirondacks to a cottage on the Cape that my mother had rented, and I wrote my father that I would be in New York between trains for an hour and a half, and asked if we could have lunch together. His secretary wrote to say that he would meet me at the information booth at noon, and at twelve o’ clock sharp I saw
him coming through the crowd.
He was a stranger to me -- my mother divorced him three years ago and I hadn’t been with him since -- but as soon as I saw him I felt that he was my father, my flesh and blood,
my future and my doom. I knew that when I was grown I would be something like him; I would have to plan my campaigns within his limitations. He was a big, good-looking man, and I was terribly happy to see him again. He struck me on the back and shook my hand. "Hi, Charlie," he said, "Hi, boy. I’d like to
take you up to my club, but it’s in the Sixties, and if you have to catch an early train I guess we’d better get something to eat around here." He put his arm around me, and I smelled my father the way my mother sniffs a rose. It was a rich compound of whiskey and after shave lotion, shoe polish, woolens, and the rankness of a mature male. I hoped that someone would see us together. I wished that we could be photographed. I wanted some record of our having been together.
We went out of the station and up a side street to a restaurant. It was still early, and the place
was empty. The bartender was quarreling with a delivery boy, and there was one very old waiter in a red
coat down by the kitchen floor. We sat down and my father hailed the waiter in a loud voice.
"Kellner!" he shouted. "Garcon! Cameriere! You!"
His boisterousness in the empty restaurant seemed out of place.
"Could we have a little service here?" he shouted. “Chop-chop.” Then he clapped his hands. This
caught the waiter’s attention, and he shuffled over to our table.
"Were you clapping your hands at me?" he asked.
"Calm down, calm down, Sommelier," my father said. "If it isn’t too much to ask of you, if it
wouldn’t be too much above and beyond the call of duty, we would like a couple of Beefeater Gibsons."
"I don’t like to be clapped at," the waiter said.
"I should have brought my whistle," my father said. "I have a whistle that is audible only to the
ears of old waiters. Now, take out your little pad and your little pencil and see if you can get this straight:
two Beefeater Gibsons. Repeat after me: two Beefeater Gibsons."
"I think you’d better go somewhere else," the waiter said quietly.
"That," said my father, "is one of the most brilliant suggestions I have ever heard. C’mon, Charlie,
let’s get the hell out of here."
I followed my father out of that restaurant and into another. He was not so boisterous this time.
Our drinks came, and he cross questioned me about the baseball season. He then struck the edge of his
empty glass with his knife and began shouting again.
"Garcon! Kellner! Cameriere! You! Could we trouble you to bring us two more of the same?"
"How old is the boy?""That is none of your God damned business."
"I’m sorry, sir," the waiter said, "but I won’t serve the boy another drink."
"Well, I have some news for you," my father said. "I have some very interesting news for you.
This doesn’t happen to be the only restaurant in New York. They’ve opened another on the corner.
C’mon, Charlie."
He paid the bill, and I followed him out of that restaurant into another. Here the waiters wore
pink jackets like hunting coats, and there was a lot of horse tack on the walls. We sat down, and my
father began to shout again.
"Master of the hounds! Tallyhoo and all that sort of thing. We’d like a little something in the way
of a stirrup cup. Namely, two Bibson Geefeaters."
"Two Bibson Geefeaters?" the waiter asked, smiling.
"You know damned well what I want," my father said angrily. "I want two Beefeater Gibsons, and
make it snappy. Things have changed in jolly old England. So my friend the duke tells me. Let’s see what
England can produce in the way of a cocktail."
"This isn’t England," the waiter said.
"Don’t argue with me," my father said. "Just do as you’re told."
"I just thought you might like to know where you are," the waiter said.
"If there is one thing I cannot tolerate," my father said, "it is an impudent domestic. C’mon,
Charlie."
The fourth place we went to was Italian.
"Per favore, possiamo avere due cocktail americani. Subito."
The waiter left us and spoke with the captain, who came over to our table and said, "I’m sorry,
sir, but this table is reserved."
"All right," my father said. "Get us another table."
"All the tables are reserved," the captain said.
"I get it," my father said. "You don’t desire our patronage. Is that it? Well, the hell with you. Vada
all’ inferno. Let’s go, Charlie."
"I have to get my train," I said.
"I’m sorry, sonny," my father said. "I’m terribly sorry." He put his arm around me and pressed me
against him. "I’ll walk you back to the station. If there had only been time to go up to my club."
"That’s all right, Daddy," I said.
"I’ll get you a paper," he said. "I’ll get you a paper to read on the train."
Then he went up to a newsstand and said, "Kind sir, will you be good enough to favor me with
one of your God damned, no good, ten cent afternoon papers?" The clerk turned away from him and
stared at a magazine cover. "Is it asking too much, kind sir," my father said, "is it asking too much for you
to sell me one of your disgusting specimens of yellow journalism?"
"I have to go, Daddy," I said. "It’s late."
"Now, just wait a second, sonny," he said. "Just wait a second. I want to get a rise out of this
chap."
"Goodbye, Daddy," I said, and I went down the stairs and got my train, and that was the last time
I saw my father.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Command: Modern Air Naval Operations
Included Scenarios
- Advanced ASW Exercise, 1979 - FOST units vs. Redfor off UK
- Battle of Chumonchin Chan, 1950 - North Korea vs. United Nations
- Battle of Latakia, 1973 - Israel vs. Syria in Mediterranean Sea
- Down Town, 1967 - United States vs. North Vietnam over North Vietnam
- Duelists, 1989 - UK vs. USSR in Norwegian Sea
- First Contact, 1957 - Norway vs. USSR in Norwegian Sea
- First Contact ,1973 - Norway vs. USSR in Norwegian Sea
- First Contact, 1986 - Norway vs. USSR in Norwegian Sea
- First Contact, 2016 - Norway vs. Russia in Norwegian Sea
- Green Tide 2016 - Spain vs. Morocco in the Canary Islands
- Iron Hand, 2014 - Russian vs. Azerbaijan
- Khark Island Raid 1985 - Iraq vs. Iran in the Persian Gulf
- Maria and Victoria, 1982- Argentina vs. UK in the Falklands
- North Pacific Shootout 1989- US Navy vs. USSR
- Operation Brass Drum 2017- US vs. Iran in Arabian Gulf
- Operation Lightning Strike 2014- US vs. Pakistani Belligerents and maybe Pakistan
- Operation Lion’s Den 1972- US vs. North Vietnam
- Operation Market Time, 1968- US/South Vietnam vs. North Vietnam
- Operation Trident 1971 - India vs. Pakistan on Indian West Coast.
- Operation Vantage 1961 - UK/Kuwait vs. USSR and Iraq in Persian Gulf
- Raid on Dwarka, 1965- India and Pakistan on Indian West Coast
- Raid on Kismayo 2013- US vs. Somali in Somalia
- Raven 21 is Down, 1976-US vs. USSR and Somali Forces in the Gulf of Aden
- Sea of Fire 1982 - UK vs. Argentine off the Falklands
- Shamal 1991 - US Navy or USAF/Coalition vs. Iraq
- South China Sea Clash 2013- US/Philippines vs. PRC/Chinese Coast Guard
- Stand Up 2011 - UK vs. Argentine off the Falklands
- Standing Naval Force Atlantic 1979- NATO vs. USSR in the Norwegian Sea
- Tee Up, 1971- US Navy vs. Soviet Navy off Cuba
- The Battle of Dong Hoi, 1972 - US Navy vs. North Vietnam
- The Four Horsemen 1987 - USSR vs. NATO
- The Shark 1971- India vs. Pakistan
- The Tiger And The Dragon 2019 - Indian and Chinese Navy in the South China Sea
- Trapped Under Ice 1999 - US Navy vs. Russian Navy under the Arctic Ice Cap.
- Wooden Leg 1985- IAF vs. PLO in Tunisia
Friday, September 27, 2013
A Colder War
a novelette by Charles Stross
"Stop. So you're saying the Russians have these, uh, Shoggoths, but we don't have any. And even those dumb Arab bastards in Baghdad are working on them. So you're saying we've got a, a Shoggoth gap? A strategic chink in our armour? And now the Iranians say the Russians are using them in Afghanistan?''
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Monday, September 23, 2013
Very useful book for conserving ones health and staying on top form
The 40 virtues of Armagnac
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Friday, September 20, 2013
Murakami Music
Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World
Bach Brandenburg Concertos
Bruckner Symphony (Unspecified)
Kenny Burrell "Stormy Sunday"
Frank Chacksfield Orchestra "Autumn In New York"
Miles Davis "Bags' Groove"
Duke Ellington "Popular Ellington" "Do Nothin' Till You Hear From Me" "Sophisticated Lady"
Woody Herman "Early Autumn"
Johnny Mathis "Teach Me Tonight" "Greatest Hits" (Album)
Roger Williams "Autumn Leaves"
Pat Boone "I'll Be Home"
Ray Charles "Georgia On My Mind"
Cream General Mention
Bob Dylan "Like A Rolling Stone" "Watching The River Flow" "Positively 4th Street" "Blowing In The Wind" "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall"
Marvin Gaye "I Heard It Through The Grapevine"
Bob Marley "Live" (Album)
Peter & Gordon "I Go To Pieces"
The Police General Mention
Otis Redding "Dock of the Bay"
Steppenwolf "Born To Be Wild"
Kafka on the Shore
Franz Schubert "Piano Sonata in D Major"
Giacomo Puccini "Si, Mi Chiamano Mimi" from La Boheme
Mozart "The Posthorn Serenade"
Haydn "First Cello Concerto" performed by Pierre Fournier
Beethoven "The Archduke Trio" performed by Rubinstein, Heifetz, Feuermann trio (The Million Dollar Trio)/Oistrach Trio
Frank Churchill & Larry Moery "Heigh-Ho" From Snow White and the Seven Dwarves
John Coltrane "My Favorite Things"
Duke Ellington General Mention
Stan Getz "Getz/Gilberto"
Herman Hupfeld "As Time Goes By"
Rodgers & Hammerstein "Edelweiss" from "The Sound Of Music"
Cream "Crossroads"
Bob Dylan "Blonde on Blonde"
Led Zeppelin General Mention
Prince "Little Red Corvette"
Radiohead "Kid A" (Album)
Inoue Yosui General Mention
Sputnik Sweetheart
Beethoven "Sonata No. 32"
Wilhelm Backhaus "Sonata for Decca"
Brahms Ballads performed by Julius Katchen
Chopin Scherzos performed by Vladmir Horowitz
Debussy Preludes performed by Friedrich Gulda
Liszt "Piano Concerto No. 1" performed by Martha Argerich, conducted by Giuseppe Sinopoli
Mozart Sonatas (Unspecified) performed by Wanda Landowska; Lieder performed by Elizabeth Schwarzkopf and Walter Giesking
Mark Bolan General Mention
Bobby Darin "The Greatest Hits" (Album)
Ten Years After General Mention
South of the Border, West of the Sun
Franz Schubert "Winterreise"
Rossini Overtures (unspecified)
Mozart Quartet (unspecified)
Liszt Piano Concertos
Handel Organ Concerto
Edvard Grieg "Peer Gynt Suite"
Beethoven "Symphony #6 (Pastorale)"
Nat King Cole "Pretend" "South Of The Border"
Bing Crosby Christmas Songs
Herman Hupfeld "As Time Goes By"
Duke Ellington "Star-Crossed Lovers" "Embraceable You"
Antonio Carlos Jobim "Corcovado"
Bach Brandenburg Concertos
Bruckner Symphony (Unspecified)
Kenny Burrell "Stormy Sunday"
Frank Chacksfield Orchestra "Autumn In New York"
Miles Davis "Bags' Groove"
Duke Ellington "Popular Ellington" "Do Nothin' Till You Hear From Me" "Sophisticated Lady"
Woody Herman "Early Autumn"
Johnny Mathis "Teach Me Tonight" "Greatest Hits" (Album)
Roger Williams "Autumn Leaves"
Pat Boone "I'll Be Home"
Ray Charles "Georgia On My Mind"
Cream General Mention
Bob Dylan "Like A Rolling Stone" "Watching The River Flow" "Positively 4th Street" "Blowing In The Wind" "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall"
Marvin Gaye "I Heard It Through The Grapevine"
Bob Marley "Live" (Album)
Peter & Gordon "I Go To Pieces"
The Police General Mention
Otis Redding "Dock of the Bay"
Steppenwolf "Born To Be Wild"
Kafka on the Shore
Franz Schubert "Piano Sonata in D Major"
Giacomo Puccini "Si, Mi Chiamano Mimi" from La Boheme
Mozart "The Posthorn Serenade"
Haydn "First Cello Concerto" performed by Pierre Fournier
Beethoven "The Archduke Trio" performed by Rubinstein, Heifetz, Feuermann trio (The Million Dollar Trio)/Oistrach Trio
Frank Churchill & Larry Moery "Heigh-Ho" From Snow White and the Seven Dwarves
John Coltrane "My Favorite Things"
Duke Ellington General Mention
Stan Getz "Getz/Gilberto"
Herman Hupfeld "As Time Goes By"
Rodgers & Hammerstein "Edelweiss" from "The Sound Of Music"
Cream "Crossroads"
Bob Dylan "Blonde on Blonde"
Led Zeppelin General Mention
Prince "Little Red Corvette"
Radiohead "Kid A" (Album)
Inoue Yosui General Mention
Sputnik Sweetheart
Beethoven "Sonata No. 32"
Wilhelm Backhaus "Sonata for Decca"
Brahms Ballads performed by Julius Katchen
Chopin Scherzos performed by Vladmir Horowitz
Debussy Preludes performed by Friedrich Gulda
Liszt "Piano Concerto No. 1" performed by Martha Argerich, conducted by Giuseppe Sinopoli
Mozart Sonatas (Unspecified) performed by Wanda Landowska; Lieder performed by Elizabeth Schwarzkopf and Walter Giesking
Mark Bolan General Mention
Bobby Darin "The Greatest Hits" (Album)
Ten Years After General Mention
South of the Border, West of the Sun
Franz Schubert "Winterreise"
Rossini Overtures (unspecified)
Mozart Quartet (unspecified)
Liszt Piano Concertos
Handel Organ Concerto
Edvard Grieg "Peer Gynt Suite"
Beethoven "Symphony #6 (Pastorale)"
Nat King Cole "Pretend" "South Of The Border"
Bing Crosby Christmas Songs
Herman Hupfeld "As Time Goes By"
Duke Ellington "Star-Crossed Lovers" "Embraceable You"
Antonio Carlos Jobim "Corcovado"
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Friday, August 23, 2013
Woke up at 3am and wrote this down.
At house, M missing, cryptic note from H saying you don't want to find him, then message how to. Go to prearranged spot and call number. You will be tested so hold fast. Guide will take you down. Down very deep undergrounds in strange architecture. A room with a dragon's head, look around. Coins, millions of them, and a scrying bowl. Look in the bowl and ask the question. Shown vision of workers digging, new mine breaks open and fire comes out. People at terminal try to get message out but firestorm consumes.
Back at dish see a vision of M approaching the bowl. Know that is what awoke them. Come out of trance, hear footsteps and realize the vision of M approaching and unleashing had not happened. He has come to rescue me and that is the catalyst. There is a third choice.
Back at dish see a vision of M approaching the bowl. Know that is what awoke them. Come out of trance, hear footsteps and realize the vision of M approaching and unleashing had not happened. He has come to rescue me and that is the catalyst. There is a third choice.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Monday, August 19, 2013
Sunday, August 18, 2013
The Lollards
Lollardy has been called 'England's first heresy'. It was never an organized movement in the sense of a modern religious or secular organization. There was no 'Head Lollard' or organizational hierarchy of Lollards. Rather, Lollards were simply people tied together by a set of beliefs. Those beliefs varied in focus and intensity from one person to the next, so it is a mistake to think of Lollards as having unified beliefs or set of principals.
The origins of Lollardy can be traced to the writings of John Wycliffe (alternately spelled Wiclif, Wicliff, or even Wickliff) Wycliffe was a churchman, writer, and theologian who was born sometime in the 1320s and died on the last day of 1384. He can in many respects be considered the father of the English Reformation. Certainly, his ideas provided a platform upon which the later reformers built.
The origins of Lollardy can be traced to the writings of John Wycliffe (alternately spelled Wiclif, Wicliff, or even Wickliff) Wycliffe was a churchman, writer, and theologian who was born sometime in the 1320s and died on the last day of 1384. He can in many respects be considered the father of the English Reformation. Certainly, his ideas provided a platform upon which the later reformers built.
Wycliffe believed that the church had drifted away from its purely spiritual foundations, and further, that it had no part to play in worldly affairs. He was strongly critical of papal influence in secular life, and sought to make religious teachings more accessible to everyone. He thought that the Bible should be available in the vernacular that is, in the language of the common people, so that everyone could read and understand it, not just those elite members of the church who were educated in Latin.
Wycliffe began a translation of the Bible into English. For the time, this was an act of extreme courage, and one which brought him into direct conflict with the church in Rome. It is worth noting that there were already portions of the Bible available in English, but no complete translation. 'Wycliffe's Bible' as it was called, was widely distributed throughout England, and had a huge influence at the time. Predictably, it was denounced by the Church as an unauthorized and inaccurate translation. Later, in 1401 the Constitutions of Oxford made it heresy to translate the Bible into English.
Saturday, August 17, 2013
The Act of Killing
A documentary that challenges former Indonesian death squad leaders to reenact their real-life mass-killings in whichever cinematic genres they wish, including classic Hollywood crime scenarios and lavish musical numbers.
Friday, August 16, 2013
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Red Detachment of Women
The ballet was adapted from the earlier film of the same title under the personal direction of Zhou Enlai, which in turn adapted from the novel by Liang Xin, it depicts the liberation of a peasant girl in Hainan Island and her rise in the Chinese Communist Party. The novel was based on the true stories of the 100+ member strong all-female Special Company of the 2nd Independent Division of Chinese Red Army, first formed in May 1931. As the communist base in Hainan was destroyed by the nationalists, most of the members of the female detachment survived, partially because they were women and easier to hide among the local populace who were sympathetic to their cause. After the communist victory in China, the representatives of the surviving members were taken to Beijing and personally inspected and praised by Mao Zedong.
