That movie was a joke - set in New York state and filmed in North Carolina. Even a casual observer would recognize that every tree in every scene was wrong. Well, that is, any casual observer who had visited forests in New York and North Carolina and paid attention.
"I will find you!" Oh bullshit, you are looking 500 miles too far south.
LOL - you throw up six shit posts every time I post anything and then you complain. Delicate little thing, aren't you. Who else do you want to alienate from this site, eh?
That movie and the book it was based on are both bullshit. If you like them, well, that indicates you have done very little reading in your life. So it goes. And the fact that you can't tell one tree from another is interesting, too. You need to get out and hike in the woods more. Breathe the air. Take a tree identification book with you. Read it as you hike. It will do wonders for your attitude.
And, yes, Sixty, Cooper was a sentimentalist and a Romantic. He gave his audience what they wanted, right down to the noble savage (well, a couple, anyway).
Some times you have to screw the details and just go with it. Ask Troop about the disagreement we have over The Searchers.
If some nitpicking incel sees a Swiss Army Knife on the belt of one of Indiana Jones' Nazis, I really don't care.
There's more virgin forest, or voigin forest if you prefer, in upstate New York and most of New England than there was a hundred years ago. Well, technically not virgin but the farms have retreated and the clearings closed up for so long that it might as well be voigin.
That movie was filmed in North Carolina--while there are no large swatches of "virgin" forests left on the east coast (hardly any on the left too)--that is probably the best place to look.
Sixty is right--no Rhodies growing in upstate New York (too cold) but the primary forest trees were not so different. Only problem is the dominant species back then was Chestnuts (which are now mostly gone from the entire east coast). Replaced mostly by oaks and maples. There used to be monster hemlocks in New York--but the leather trade cut most of them down in the 1800s (their bark was used for tanning).
I thought the movie was great. Way better than the book.
Hey Evi - how you doin'? I watched "The Aeronauts" after reading a review over at your place. I was thinkin' it should have been titled "How to Join the Mile High Club in 1862", but that was just me.
It's just words typed on a computer and sent over the intertubes. How can something so insignificant piss you off enough to change your behavior. It's not like he sold you a bowl with a knot in it.
Sixty's a good, talented guy who occasionally gets a little cranky, like most people with artistic aptitude. Like you, for example.
Not me, though. Cause I gots no talent except for my lovemaking skills.
There you have it, the most flouncy of flounces. But you did use bad words, or as you put it, swears. I hope you were wearing your expensive Titus-esque shirt when you wrote that - it suits you perfectly.
By the way - only you have the power to piss you off, just so you know.
I see Wes was in Dances With Wolves, and I have to tell you, if I were to appear in a Costner movie I would much prefer Bull Durham, although there were no parts for Indians in that one. Cleveland had nothing to do with that particular minor league.
I've said that about lots of sites. Sometimes it's because the site doesn't say anything new that you don't read on the other sites you regularly visit. Sometimes it's because you realize the content just isn't appealing, trustworthy, reputable,...whatever. And sometimes it's because you feel you don't fit in.
I've deleted the link to this site a couple of times because I don't feel like I fit in. My posts tend to be graffiti hastily scratched on the wall rather than deep tomes. And my humor is too often obscure to get a reaction. Hey, it is what it is. I am what I am. So, nobody listens...or seems to...being ignored is often worse than being attacked. I drift back.
I'm just a sold whose intentions are good. Oh, Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood.
This blog is what it is. I'm not sure what that is exactly. I suppose different things to different people. Each author and each commenter is unique. Some add, others detract. Hey, it's sort of like finishing sheet rock. You apply the mud, scrape some off, then sand more off later. The end result required all those steps.
I'm not one to talk somebody off the ledge. But, then again, I'm not one to listen to others when I'm on the edge.
A cousin wrote a book that I thought was so good that I bought several copies and passed them around. Two of the female recipients, who were in a mood to be honest, trashed it. I thought they were being way too critical and, anyhow, why couldn't they just enjoy the fucking book without being literary critics? In retrospect it's all pretty funny and doesn't mean a thing.
I agree - it really doesn't mean a thing. I like what Twain wrote about Cooper, and even though I liked Cooperstown, I thought Coopers books were hokey. I say that as a guy who occasionally steps on a dry twig when the rest of the area is dead quiet.
As others have noted, I am a stickler when it comes to trees - I pay attention to them and seeing the wrong ones, like pepper trees in "Kentucky" in the series Justified just ruins my ability to suspend disbelief. Arborealism is the term that has been used in that regard. That's my story and I am sticking to it.
The movies I have enjoyed the most, which are of this type, could never stand up to such scrutiny, and if they had to, would not have been made, so I would prefer they be made, as I would prefer to enjoy Chip's posts.
I want to imagine the romanticism real, and is it possible that it may in fact be valid as often as romanticism is valid in real life. The early American majesty of upstate NY must have been very similar to what is shown, even if the details are inaccurate. In the same way that a southern straight actor can play a northern gay character. A southern tree can play a northern species... assuming adequate training, dedication, and talent. Not all trees can do this, but the ones in this movie sold it for me.
If only the trees had had more time to work with Daniel Day Lewis - then I too would have believed. He has mad acting skills and the trees should have been more attentive to his method and motivation. Sadly, they were all too wooden in that movie.
Although I'll never get to level Sixty, I'm thinking of taking up turning wood as a hobby. I have metal machinery of all kinds, but I haven't played with wood much since high school. Lately I've been watching videos of guys doing it, and I'm sure I can impress my friends with a little practice. Then again, it's a lot less messy to just watch the videos.
When I wanted to learn bowl turning I took a class with a nearby wood turner and the first thing I learned was how to sharpen your tools - in my case, primarily a bowl gouge. Sharp tools make turning less of a physical beatdown. I recommend that path for those who are interested - no investment and you can get an idea pretty fast about whether or not turning is for you.
One of my current tasks is to make a honing stand for my skew chisel - and if you do take up turning save the dreaded skew chisel for later. It is obstinate enough to make you swear and swear off turning forever.
Christmas can be joyous, stressful, melancholy, depressing. I hope everyone just considers this thread a mulligan and we all enjoy the rest of Christmas and New Year. I think both Chip and Sixty have much to offer.
We made Tartufo A'la Trooper York as dessert for tonight's Christmas Eve supper and it was wonderful.
Something from Levity present at our feast table, thanks to a brief mention and picture posted here.
SixtyG knows his trees, and Trooper knows how to focus on and find meatballs, veal, great desserts and old photos of well-endowed women. Others here like to impart their knowledge and hold forth on things that catch their attention and interest, often with negativity, strong opinion, and judgment included as part of their posts, along with details and minutia others might not see or particularly care about. It's all part of the finished sheet rock Windbag mentions that gives definition to a room where one can rest, connect, share, relate, be real, notice, regard, weigh, consider, disagree, reflect, listen to music, read poetry, or see something not seen before.
It took me a minute to locate the song quoted and read the words. Yes, it all comes back to motive--the intention of the heart.
Instead of fucking right along, I'm wondering what would happen if the anger that naturally arises when survival is threatened and loss is experienced, could be owned and recognized instead of being passed on to others. Living and dealing with an illness/disease/incapacitation that includes biopsies, hospital visits and lifestyle changes is close to the top of the list of Hard Things to Do That Are No Walk in the Park. In a world where humor, reason, meaningful relationship, and the freedom to express oneself is in short supply, it's good to have people with good hearts to count on and places to go where those things can be experienced.
"So, nobody listens...or seems to...being ignored is often worse than being attacked."
Sometimes the reader or listener doesn't know what to do or say.
This I do know, as well as Sixty knows trees, TY knows veal, and ChipAhoy knows ASL:
Regardless of how many times it is shared, or how lightly, dismissively, humorously or matter of factly the story is presented, the public recounting to another of a lived experience of sexual molestation and abuse that involved genital to genital, genital to anus or mouth to genital contact under coercion will invariably result in feelings of vulnerability after the telling.
I know this from my own experience of forced intimacy when I was eleven and from listening to numerous others recount their experiences molestation that took place without their consent or the ability to physically resist or say no and remain safe.
While the first encounter usually comes as a total surprise, repeated experiences will often include the heinous twist of some form of reward along with the abuse and misuse, such as special attention, protection for another family member, financial provision or social reward, or the body's betrayal of an orgasm response. Regardless of which form the forced intimacy takes or what ends up being offered or traded away once the boundary has been crossed, the rage and shame that results from being preyed upon, misused, subjected to fear, coerced, betrayed (or involved in some form of self betrayal) and exposed as vulnerable is very great, affecting body, mind and spirit/soul long after the initial act is over and time has moved on.
Processing this type of trauma requires the presence of a compassionate other who can hear the story, listen for truth, respond in grace, and encourage the coming together/integration of the thoughts and feelings that accompanied the initial invasion/boundary crossing and the neuropathways that formed as a result.
Although I read and received the story presented here on Dec 22 of a young man's experience of sexual molestation when he was 19, and the Fevered Dreams that have come up in recent days, I did not acknowledge the abuse described or respond to the vulnerability presented out of my own fear of saying something that would be rebuffed or perceived as intrusive or offensive.
I'm sorry that experience happened to you Chip Ahoy. I wish I'd been able to respond to it with compassion when I first read it. I hope you'll decide to continue to post on what interests you, and allow your readers the opportunity to respond as they see fit to content they might not otherwise have seen or had opportunity to regard or consider.
You know he promised to never read any comment made by you, right MamaM?
I know.
I appreciate your good words along with your willingness to note and suggest what's been going on for several weeks if not months, might be a state of mind issue. When negativity and judgment is repeatedly presented and passed off in post after post as levity, and focused attention on details that personally matter is considered good for me but not for thee, something is seriously off.
On another note, it takes me several hours to write, format and edit a blog post. I gave up putting effort into doing that after my request for more page breaks and less posts immediately following an active thread was acknowledged and briefly followed for a week or so and then seemingly ignored. Which again makes me think something is off or happening without conscious awareness
However, I blithely posted my most recent one ahead of your usual Sunday evening post without intending to do so or being aware of that myself until after the fact.
I don't worry about such things. Stepping on posts and having posts stepped on is the sign of a lively blog. Intentionally posting copy-and-paste links to strange irrelevant things, one after the other, in order to ensure that posts scroll off the page within minutes is something altogether different.
Anyway, MamaM, I hope you keep on posting - I learn from what you write and try to take to heart the things you bring to this site.
39 comments:
That movie was a joke - set in New York state and filmed in North Carolina. Even a casual observer would recognize that every tree in every scene was wrong. Well, that is, any casual observer who had visited forests in New York and North Carolina and paid attention.
"I will find you!" Oh bullshit, you are looking 500 miles too far south.
LOL - you throw up six shit posts every time I post anything and then you complain. Delicate little thing, aren't you. Who else do you want to alienate from this site, eh?
That movie and the book it was based on are both bullshit. If you like them, well, that indicates you have done very little reading in your life. So it goes. And the fact that you can't tell one tree from another is interesting, too. You need to get out and hike in the woods more. Breathe the air. Take a tree identification book with you. Read it as you hike. It will do wonders for your attitude.
Inspired by the massacre of Fort William Henry.
And, yes, Sixty, Cooper was a sentimentalist and a Romantic. He gave his audience what they wanted, right down to the noble savage (well, a couple, anyway).
Some times you have to screw the details and just go with it. Ask Troop about the disagreement we have over The Searchers.
If some nitpicking incel sees a Swiss Army Knife on the belt of one of Indiana Jones' Nazis, I really don't care.
Mark Twain knew about such things and wrote his criticism much better than I ever could. I trust his judgment, Cooper, not so much.
There's more virgin forest, or voigin forest if you prefer, in upstate New York and most of New England than there was a hundred years ago. Well, technically not virgin but the farms have retreated and the clearings closed up for so long that it might as well be voigin.
That movie was filmed in North Carolina--while there are no large swatches of "virgin" forests left on the east coast (hardly any on the left too)--that is probably the best place to look.
Sixty is right--no Rhodies growing in upstate New York (too cold) but the primary forest trees were not so different. Only problem is the dominant species back then was Chestnuts (which are now mostly gone from the entire east coast). Replaced mostly by oaks and maples. There used to be monster hemlocks in New York--but the leather trade cut most of them down in the 1800s (their bark was used for tanning).
I thought the movie was great. Way better than the book.
Hey Evi - how you doin'? I watched "The Aeronauts" after reading a review over at your place. I was thinkin' it should have been titled "How to Join the Mile High Club in 1862", but that was just me.
It's Christmas Eve. Y'all lighten up.
It was a good movie because it featured Madeline Stowe in her prime.
Just remember to say Happy Birthday tomorrow to Jesus.
The Fat Man is watching.
He's keeping a list.
He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake.
He's an NSA contractor in Arlington, so be good for goodness fucking sake.
I'll consider this my last day of posting.
I'm tired of this site and I'm tired of you.
Sixty, you've pissed me off the last time.
Goodbye. I'll just fuck right along.
Dude.
It's just words typed on a computer and sent over the intertubes. How can something so insignificant piss you off enough to change your behavior. It's not like he sold you a bowl with a knot in it.
Sixty's a good, talented guy who occasionally gets a little cranky, like most people with artistic aptitude. Like you, for example.
Not me, though. Cause I gots no talent except for my lovemaking skills.
There you have it, the most flouncy of flounces. But you did use bad words, or as you put it, swears. I hope you were wearing your expensive Titus-esque shirt when you wrote that - it suits you perfectly.
By the way - only you have the power to piss you off, just so you know.
It's like a sweet potato pie with raisins in it. You just eat around 'em or spit 'em out.
"Last of the Chipper Posts"
Starring:
Chip Ahoy as Daniel Day Lewis
Sixty Grit as Wes Studi
And Special Guest Star:
Trooper York as Madeline Stowe
I see Wes was in Dances With Wolves, and I have to tell you, if I were to appear in a Costner movie I would much prefer Bull Durham, although there were no parts for Indians in that one. Cleveland had nothing to do with that particular minor league.
Aw, c'mon. He gets testy if he can't turn the background scenery into a bowl. Everyone knows this. No big deal.
Aw, c'mon. He gets testy if he can't turn the background scenery into a bowl. Everyone knows this.
I'm tired of this site...
I've said that about lots of sites. Sometimes it's because the site doesn't say anything new that you don't read on the other sites you regularly visit. Sometimes it's because you realize the content just isn't appealing, trustworthy, reputable,...whatever. And sometimes it's because you feel you don't fit in.
I've deleted the link to this site a couple of times because I don't feel like I fit in. My posts tend to be graffiti hastily scratched on the wall rather than deep tomes. And my humor is too often obscure to get a reaction. Hey, it is what it is. I am what I am. So, nobody listens...or seems to...being ignored is often worse than being attacked. I drift back.
I'm just a sold whose intentions are good. Oh, Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood.
This blog is what it is. I'm not sure what that is exactly. I suppose different things to different people. Each author and each commenter is unique. Some add, others detract. Hey, it's sort of like finishing sheet rock. You apply the mud, scrape some off, then sand more off later. The end result required all those steps.
I'm not one to talk somebody off the ledge. But, then again, I'm not one to listen to others when I'm on the edge.
A cousin wrote a book that I thought was so good that I bought several copies and passed them around. Two of the female recipients, who were in a mood to be honest, trashed it. I thought they were being way too critical and, anyhow, why couldn't they just enjoy the fucking book without being literary critics? In retrospect it's all pretty funny and doesn't mean a thing.
I agree - it really doesn't mean a thing. I like what Twain wrote about Cooper, and even though I liked Cooperstown, I thought Coopers books were hokey. I say that as a guy who occasionally steps on a dry twig when the rest of the area is dead quiet.
As others have noted, I am a stickler when it comes to trees - I pay attention to them and seeing the wrong ones, like pepper trees in "Kentucky" in the series Justified just ruins my ability to suspend disbelief. Arborealism is the term that has been used in that regard. That's my story and I am sticking to it.
The movies I have enjoyed the most, which are of this type, could never stand up to such scrutiny, and if they had to, would not have been made, so I would prefer they be made, as I would prefer to enjoy Chip's posts.
I want to imagine the romanticism real, and is it possible that it may in fact be valid as often as romanticism is valid in real life. The early American majesty of upstate NY must have been very similar to what is shown, even if the details are inaccurate. In the same way that a southern straight actor can play a northern gay character. A southern tree can play a northern species... assuming adequate training, dedication, and talent. Not all trees can do this, but the ones in this movie sold it for me.
If only the trees had had more time to work with Daniel Day Lewis - then I too would have believed. He has mad acting skills and the trees should have been more attentive to his method and motivation. Sadly, they were all too wooden in that movie.
Although I'll never get to level Sixty, I'm thinking of taking up turning wood as a hobby. I have metal machinery of all kinds, but I haven't played with wood much since high school. Lately I've been watching videos of guys doing it, and I'm sure I can impress my friends with a little practice. Then again, it's a lot less messy to just watch the videos.
When I wanted to learn bowl turning I took a class with a nearby wood turner and the first thing I learned was how to sharpen your tools - in my case, primarily a bowl gouge. Sharp tools make turning less of a physical beatdown. I recommend that path for those who are interested - no investment and you can get an idea pretty fast about whether or not turning is for you.
One of my current tasks is to make a honing stand for my skew chisel - and if you do take up turning save the dreaded skew chisel for later. It is obstinate enough to make you swear and swear off turning forever.
Christmas can be joyous, stressful, melancholy, depressing. I hope everyone just considers this thread a mulligan and we all enjoy the rest of Christmas and New Year. I think both Chip and Sixty have much to offer.
Trooper and myself had much more vicious exchanges and we're still good.
We made Tartufo A'la Trooper York as dessert for tonight's Christmas Eve supper and it was wonderful.
Something from Levity present at our feast table, thanks to a brief mention and picture posted here.
SixtyG knows his trees, and Trooper knows how to focus on and find meatballs, veal, great desserts and old photos of well-endowed women. Others here like to impart their knowledge and hold forth on things that catch their attention and interest, often with negativity, strong opinion, and judgment included as part of their posts, along with details and minutia others might not see or particularly care about. It's all part of the finished sheet rock Windbag mentions that gives definition to a room where one can rest, connect, share, relate, be real, notice, regard, weigh, consider, disagree, reflect, listen to music, read poetry, or see something not seen before.
It took me a minute to locate the song quoted and read the words. Yes, it all comes back to motive--the intention of the heart.
Instead of fucking right along, I'm wondering what would happen if the anger that naturally arises when survival is threatened and loss is experienced, could be owned and recognized instead of being passed on to others. Living and dealing with an illness/disease/incapacitation that includes biopsies, hospital visits and lifestyle changes is close to the top of the list of Hard Things to Do That Are No Walk in the Park. In a world where humor, reason, meaningful relationship, and the freedom to express oneself is in short supply, it's good to have people with good hearts to count on and places to go where those things can be experienced.
The movie is very well done. I am a big fan of it too.
The book is tough to read.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_chestnut
It was the dominant tree over this range until the blight took it out.
"So, nobody listens...or seems to...being ignored is often worse than being attacked."
Sometimes the reader or listener doesn't know what to do or say.
This I do know, as well as Sixty knows trees, TY knows veal, and ChipAhoy knows ASL:
Regardless of how many times it is shared, or how lightly, dismissively, humorously or matter of factly the story is presented, the public recounting to another of a lived experience of sexual molestation and abuse that involved genital to genital, genital to anus or mouth to genital contact under coercion will invariably result in feelings of vulnerability after the telling.
I know this from my own experience of forced intimacy when I was eleven and from listening to numerous others recount their experiences molestation that took place without their consent or the ability to physically resist or say no and remain safe.
While the first encounter usually comes as a total surprise, repeated experiences will often include the heinous twist of some form of reward along with the abuse and misuse, such as special attention, protection for another family member, financial provision or social reward, or the body's betrayal of an orgasm response. Regardless of which form the forced intimacy takes or what ends up being offered or traded away once the boundary has been crossed, the rage and shame that results from being preyed upon, misused, subjected to fear, coerced, betrayed (or involved in some form of self betrayal) and exposed as vulnerable is very great, affecting body, mind and spirit/soul long after the initial act is over and time has moved on.
Processing this type of trauma requires the presence of a compassionate other who can hear the story, listen for truth, respond in grace, and encourage the coming together/integration of the thoughts and feelings that accompanied the initial invasion/boundary crossing and the neuropathways that formed as a result.
Although I read and received the story presented here on Dec 22 of a young man's experience of sexual molestation when he was 19, and the Fevered Dreams that have come up in recent days, I did not acknowledge the abuse described or respond to the vulnerability presented out of my own fear of saying something that would be rebuffed or perceived as intrusive or offensive.
I'm sorry that experience happened to you Chip Ahoy. I wish I'd been able to respond to it with compassion when I first read it. I hope you'll decide to continue to post on what interests you, and allow your readers the opportunity to respond as they see fit to content they might not otherwise have seen or had opportunity to regard or consider.
You know he promised to never read any comment made by you, right MamaM? Which is a shame, as that is a great comment right there.
Jumping Jesus!
I go away for a little bit and the shit hits the fan!
In this time of Love that celebrates the birth of our Lord and Savior ....I can only say one thing in the true Spirit of the Season.
Fuck you Spinelli.
Merry Christmas!
One great comment after another! Have another meatball, you fn meatball!
You know he promised to never read any comment made by you, right MamaM?
I know.
I appreciate your good words along with your willingness to note and suggest what's been going on for several weeks if not months, might be a state of mind issue. When negativity and judgment is repeatedly presented and passed off in post after post as levity, and focused attention on details that personally matter is considered good for me but not for thee, something is seriously off.
On another note, it takes me several hours to write, format and edit a blog post. I gave up putting effort into doing that after my request for more page breaks and less posts immediately following an active thread was acknowledged and briefly followed for a week or so and then seemingly ignored. Which again makes me think something is off or happening without conscious awareness
However, I blithely posted my most recent one ahead of your usual Sunday evening post without intending to do so or being aware of that myself until after the fact.
I don't worry about such things. Stepping on posts and having posts stepped on is the sign of a lively blog. Intentionally posting copy-and-paste links to strange irrelevant things, one after the other, in order to ensure that posts scroll off the page within minutes is something altogether different.
Anyway, MamaM, I hope you keep on posting - I learn from what you write and try to take to heart the things you bring to this site.
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