Winter (Be)Wilderland

 

Yes, it’s Winter here in the northeast United States, and although the season has been notably kind to us until now, she has finally gone into Full Queen Bitch mode. Although some people persist in characterizing Winter as an Old White Man, those of us who have lived through a few bad ones know better. Winter is Female. And She is Not To Be Trifled With.

The cold spell that was her first gambit wasn’t nearly as bad as some that I wish I hadn’t experienced. Once, in a December still within human memory, the temperatures never rose above fifteen below zero during the day, for an entire month, and at night regularly dipped down to thirty below. Cold like that kills: Misty the horse went out of our barn one morning dragging a foot as she walked; by night she was dead, and we could not even bury her because the ground was frozen too hard.

But this winter we’ve yet to reach temperatures significantly below zero, and have hardly seen single digits. The snow held off almost entirely until last week. The fifteen inches we got at that time was bothersome but not an extreme hardship, as it was feather-light, halfway between powder and fluff.

But the two inches that we got overnight Wednesday? That was a different story. Two inches doesn’t look so bad on the ground, compared to fifteen or more, until you try to shovel it and discover that it’s saturated with two more inches (at least) of Freezing Rain. This is the kind of snow that makes you feel your age, no matter what your age is; and quite suddenly you begin to understand that you are not as young as you used to be. That’s the message that Lady Winter delivered to me yesterday: “I’m coming for you, and you can’t escape me forever.” Death comes not with a scythe, but with a freezing thick coating of white.

If you’re casting around for something to read this winter, I would heartily recommend Robertson Davies’ “Deptford Trilogy,” comprised of FIFTH BUSINESS, THE MANTICORE, and WORLD OF WONDERS — in which the lives of at least four people are forever changed by One Single Snowball. Actions Have Consequence, after all: this is a lesson that the human race never seems to learn. The second book is the real climax of the series, with WORLD OF WONDERS acting as a pleasing, prolonged epilogue. If you enjoy it, Davies was a prolific writer who found real magic in life and left many volumes of it behind for us when he left. 

Stay warm.

—Thorn.

I've (Finally) Got a Little List

 

Folks often talk about their "Top Ten" or "Top Fifty" favorite films -- I never made a formal list until the other day. 

It was hard! At the start I had a list of 130 movies all wanting to be in my Top Fifty! As I whittled titles away, the choice of what to keep and what to cut was often pretty arbitrary, and often turned on whether the director or stars already had one or more pictures on the list. On any given day, most of the titles that got cut might outrank some of the titles that stayed. At least a couple of titles only made the final cut because better movies were culled for the above reasons, and others. Ask me tomorrow, and the list might be different.

Also, this is a list of FAVORITES, not a BEST list. A "Best" list would look very different indeed. It also wouldn't tell you as much about me as this list does.

The films are listed are in no particular order, not ranked in any way -- other than that the first ten or fifteen titles probably do rank higher the ones that follow. 

I've already written about some of these pictures here on the blog: a quick search should take you right to those posts. I'll be writing about some of the other titles here in the coming days.

Why did I do this? "Just Because." I'm twelve years older than I was wren I started this blog. As you start getting on in years, you start wanting to codify things, if only to bolster your sense of perspective.

Here we go: "Doug's Favorite Fifty, Sort Of"

Sherlock, Jr. - 1924

Oliver! - 1968

King Kong -1933

Metropolis - 1927

M. Hulot’s Holiday - 1953

The Fabulous Destiny of Amelie Poulain - 2001

Modern Times - 1936

My Little Chickadee - 1940

Yellow Submarine - 1968

Kid Millions - 1934

Lawrence of Arabia - 1962

They Might Be Giants - 1971

The Maltese Falcon - 1941

Lili - 1953

The Wizard of Oz - 1939

Godspell - 1973

Adventures of Baron Munchausen - 1988

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir - 1947

The Horse Without a Head - 1963

The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean - 1972

Rose Marie - 1936

The Late Show - 1976

The Magician - 1958

The Bride of Frankenstein - 1935

Dumbo - 1941

They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? - 1969

The Fearless Vampire Killers - 1966

The Crimson Pig / Porco Rosso - 1992

Annie Hall - 1977

Babes In Toyland  - 1934

Duck Soup - 1933

Way Out West - 1937

Ninotchka - 1939

Sweet November - 1968

Paper Moon - 1973

The Commitments - 1991

7 Faces of Dr. Lao - 1963

Return to Oz - 1985

Peter Pan - 2003

The Mummy - 1932

The Abominable Dr. Phibes - 1971

Black Narcissus - 1947

The Night Stalker - 1972

Carousel - 1956

Flash Gordon (serial) - 1936

Duel In the Sun - 1948

The Ladykillers - 1955

Pay It Again, Sam - 1972

Willard - 1971

The Mark of Zorro - 1940

**************************

More later! I really am going to make an effort to post here more often. Thanks for stopping by,

--Thorn.

Something's Coming

 

For reasons that I vaguely remember writing about here, some time in the distant past, This Ol' Website has lain Mostly Fallow for some time now. 

That's about to change, because for the first time in ages, I actually have Things to Post and possibly even some Things to Say. 

I can't promise you that it'll be The Greatest Thing since the invention of toenail clippers, especially in a world that's resoundingly flooded by content and drowning in voices. Everyone's talking at once, fewer people than ever are actually listening, but Because Reasons I've got the clutch down to the floorboards and am toying with the notion of actually throwing the vehicle into gear. 

We'll see what comes of it, okay?

-- Thorn.

www.tarotbyducksoup.com

www.ducksoup.me

End of Days

 The winter solstice of 2020 is unique in history in that the world just keeps getting darker and darker when it should be getting lighter.

Some Random Observations. People keep blathering at me about the supposedly Multicultural world they claim is on the horizon. I'm going to say this once: WE DO NOT LIVE IN A MULTICULTURAL WORLD. We live in an Omnicultural, MICRO-cultural World in which, by definition, everyone can create their own facts, live in their own bubble, believe what they want to believe, and find others who will support and agree with them. The Internet has done this to us. First it killed Pop Culture and then it killed anything and everything that Unified us as a people.

Tolerance and respect is a thing of the past. The New Liberals are as much of a danger to the culture as the Old Conservatives were. They are not even True Liberals, because they do not believe in freedom of speech: they believe that any idea, theology, concept or opinion that differs from theirs must be stamped out, silenced, and banished to what Harry Nilsson once called The Pointless Forest (track down a copy of the short animated film THE POINT for reference. It'll do you good).

In 2020, it is impossible for any two people to be "on the same page" of ANY-damn-thing, because the structure that supported a stable body of reliable news sources has been utterly destroyed. People get their news now from whatever source supports and encourages their particular beliefs, and they can find professionally-produced sources to support ANY beliefs they might have, no matter how crackpot.

In 2020, everyone is their own Programming Director. Everyone with a keypad is a damn critic. Everyone believes they are an authority on any and every subject, no matter their level of education or where their information comes from.

We've been living in dangerous times for a long while now. The pandemic is merely a headstone marking the grave of a culture that has been decaying since the advent of the internet and the election of Ronald Reagan. Ask not for whom the bell tolls.

-- Thorn.

Tribute to Hunny

Hunny

On Sunday, May 3, 2020, I was forced to make the decision to end the life of my little Hunny. You may know her from the SUN card from my TINKER'S DAMN TAROT revised second edition. There was a reason she graced that card with her presence. For fifteen years she was the light of my life, the best part of my life, the best thing that ever happened to me. And now she's gone.

She died from a combination of heart disease AND kidney disease, both of which were farther along than I think the vet ever admitted to me. In late March, I noticed that she was breathing awfully hard. By the last week of April, I knew that the end was near. There were no good days -- just every day worse than the one before it.

My heart is broken. Even now, I can hardly bear to type these words. I miss her so  much.

I'll try to write her whole story out here on the blog; I think I have to. But it will have to wait until I think I can get through the task with a minimum of waterworks. For now, this is all I can bear to do,

Hunny, my little sweetie, my angel, my baby -- I miss you so much. I loved you so much. Please forgive me. 

--Thorn.

www.tarotbyducksoup.com

www.ducksoup.me

In the Midst of Pandemic....

image from LES TAROTS DES ANIMALERIES, coming soon from Duck Soup Productions © 2020

What a night and morning it's been. On Wednesday it was sunny and in the 50s, then last night a ginormous storm blew in and blasted the whole state with heavy wet snow. In the early stages (NOT making this up!!) the snowflakes were the size of vintage half-dollar coins.

It came down and it came down. My only worry was just that I had an 8:30 AM vet appointment for Hunny, and I well know the length of my driveway and the limits of my car in getting through heavy wet snow.

Just after midnight, the power went out. From years of living in the country (and from recent New Agey Interests) I have plenty of candles in the house, so that was not a problem I was concerned about, either. Except that my phone and internet both go out when the power does. And as the night rolled on and on, I began to imagine not being able to get out of my house to make the appointment, and not even being able to call to cancel it!

But by 7:00 AM the power was back, and my plow guy had been here, too. It was still a bit of a struggle to get out at 8:15, because there was a solid ten inches of heavy wet snow all over everywhere, and the damn stuff was still coming down.

Due to the Covid-19 protections that my vet has in place, the New England Animal Hospital offices in Waterville are now virtually a Drive-In service. They don't you in the building, and I don't blame them! They picked up my little Hunny at the car and took her in, and I waited. I knew this was going to happen, so I'd written all the information I had down on a piece of paper that went in with the cat.

Then you wait in the car. Ten minutes seems like a long time under the circumstances.

If you have a cellphone, they call you with the exam results. I don't, so the vet -- trusted, caring and lovely Dr. O'Brien -- came out to fill me in personally. She thinks Hunny may be having a flare-up of feline herpes; but she also said that in all other respects (heart, lungs, and other vitals) Hunny is doing fine. That news alone was worth the $80. In addition to the Clavemox I'm already giving her, they gave her (I think) an antibiotic. I'd have to look at the receipt to be sure. 

Hunny is now sleeping comfortably by the fireplace, after she almost threw up her morning does of Clavemox.

After all that, I ordered a face-mask on Etsy. I've been getting by with a couple of bandannas, doubled-up, tied at the ears and stuffed with three coffee filters.

And I haven't even checked my email yet.

This afternoon I'm going out to the post-office to mail out the few little orders that I have, and then make a stop at the supermarket. I hope they have something left to buy..... Mainly, I need two particular flavors of Fancy Feast Quat Fud, and whatever garbage is on the shelves at eye level for me to eat on...

Have a Good Day, and pray that the peak is really here....

-Thorn.
www.tarotbyducksoup.com
www.ducksoup.me

x

April Fool's Day

"The Hanged Man" from TAROT DADA, ™ and © Duck Soup Productions, 2020.

As today is the last day that Mainers can legally leave the house for "less than essential" reasons, I feared that there would be another run on the stores.... waking at 5:55, I threw on some clothes and went out to catch "senior hour" at the supermarket. 

Aside from the personal disgust at the fact of being old enough to partake of such a thing, I actually felt less safe shopping with the geriatric crowd than I did last week during normal hours. But under the circumstances, I was afraid they would run out of eggs -- if they even had any. And I need eggs to make Whitey's Magic Tummy Mixture.

I needn't have worried, the supermarket had tons of eggs, and really, they have done a smashing job re-stocking everything: which reinforces the fact that THERE ARE NO SHORTAGES. THERE IS PLENTY TO GO AROUND, if you just don't panic and buy up a shit-ton more than you really need.

But they were out of hand-sanitizing wipes for the carts and I was glad I was wearing gloves. Even then, I panicked when I absent-mindedly touched my cheek because it was itching. I thought, "It's all over. I touched the side of my nose. Contagion will surely follow."

Returning home was not the happy experience it usually is, because I knew that I needed to go back out again in a few hours. Not enough time to do anything productive, too much time to have on your hands. And I did worry about what I had brought back on my hands. I washed my hands and face intensely, killing my iPhone (which I'd absent-mindedly left in my shirt pocket) as a result.  Pussyquats being the perceptive creatures they are, both Whitey and Hunny picked up on my distress. 

I did venture back out into the war zone after about 2 PM. The mailman did deliver my last paycheck for my freelance job, bless him -- and really, bless and keep the U.S. and Worldwide Postal Services for keeping the world up and running. Imagine how bad this would be without a basic service like the mail. I have heard rumblings that the USPS will be forced to shut down within three months. Folks, if that happens, especially without a viable replacement service, it's literally the end of Civilization as we know it. Burn the set: it will all be over. 

Part of the reason for my going out this afternoon was to ship out the tiny handful of Tarot orders that have trickled in. The Post Office was open, and the folks there were safe and friendly behind new plexiglass panels. Clearly marked intervals on the floor showed the safe distance to stand in all areas, and with mechanical door openers in place, I didn't have to touch any surface at all while I was there. Honestly, it felt like the safest place in town.

So, once again, raise a cheer for the mail system: keeping the whole world going in a time of genuine crisis.

In other areas of the town, traffic was about close to normal as the people of Maine took advantage of their last day as Free Range Cattle. The local bank has wisely closed its lobby. All business now being transacted at the drive-through. This made me feel good about the safety of the people inside. And if they're safe, I am too. 

The vet was shuttered. Not a big, deal, I have enough meds to last Whitey a few days, and because I have a good relationship with them, I know I can drop them an email and pop down to pick up the pills Whitey needs sometime in the next few days.

If the first part of my day had been as angst-free as the second part, I'd be feeling pretty complacent by now. Unfortunately, ANY trip out these days means that the infection clock re-sets. Covid-19 has a 2-14 day incubation period, with 5 days the average. No matter what, I'll be a little bit on tinter-hooks until next Monday rolls along. By then, the numbers should be getting genuinely alarming. Stay at home, folks, and stay safe.

--Thorn.
www.tarotbyducksoup.
www.ducksoup.me