Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Gabrielle Giffords: a bizarre miracle



Last night I watched the much-anticipated Diane Sawyer interview with Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, the woman gunned down ten months ago by a maniac outside a grocery store where she was chatting with her constituents. Her head was literally blown apart, the top of her skull shattered in an injury so catastrophic that the press initially announced she was dead.

The culture loves success stories, and comeback stories are even more remarkable. I watched the interview in fascination, wondering if the radiantly-smiling, vibrant and confident Gifford we saw before the shooting had retrieved enough of herself that she could be considered completely recovered.



Much was made of her charismatic, determined personality as a public figure, and indeed she did seem appealing, a go-getting kind of woman who appeared to disregard every personal obstacle. Her astronaut husband spent much of his time away on missions, truly living the American dream.

All that was blown apart in an instant. There was an explosion: a bullet; a ruptured skull. Life itself was shattered and remained attached only by the thinnest of threads.










The scenes of her early recovery are gruesome: her eyes are open and glassily staring while she listlessly raises a hand or a finger in response to commands. Then comes the long and impossibly gruelling daily therapy to try to drag her back to her former self, or at least some semblance of it.

Watching this, I was reminded of Christopher Reeve, a man stricken down in his body more than his brain. He was the person whom I first heard say, "Anything can happen to anyone at any time."

He should know.



I had a strange, even uncomfortable feeling watching this program. Though Giffords smiles radiantly through most of it, and intelligence still flashes in her eyes, she can barely put a sentence together and gropes for words. Her husband, who comes across as a sort of emotionless personal trainer, prompts her and even finishes her thoughts.  In that stalwart, never-say-die American way, the way that brooks no obstacles nor even recognizes them, we hear him insist that she will attain nothing short of "100% recovery".

It's the astronaut's way, isn't it? Figures; percentages. There is no doubt this man cares about his wife, but I never once saw a hint of tears, vulnerability, or the kind of  traumatized shock that would be natural even in the most emotionally-reserved of spouses.




The thing that astonished me the most about this fascinating but deeply unsettling interview was the fact that Diane Sawyer wanted to know if she would go back to Congress next May. The spectre of a woman struggling with massive aphasia while trying to keep up a stressful political career was almost macabre. But it's the hallmark of that "100%" myth: we can't just recover part of the way. It must be total. We must go back to being the person we were, our "old self" again.

There is no "old self".


There is the self of today, which is fluid and which changes and fluctuates moment-by-moment and can be interrupted or even destroyed in a nanosecond. If we were fully aware of this, we probably wouldn't be able to go out the door. So we wrap invincibility around ourselves, a sense of special protection by supernatural forces (that is, if we believe in "God"). We see tangible outcomes and cling to them, throw them up like grappling hooks in hopes of being able to gain purchase and pull ourselves up.



I find it interesting, in cases of extreme brain damage, what it is that remains: in the program, Sawyer states that science has no idea which part of the brain is responsible for "personality" (whatever that is). In the case of Giffords, the smile remains - in fact, its dazzlement is a little eerie - along with a coached-looking gesture of a determined, waved fist. This is "the old Gabby" shining through. One wonders how much is locked up inside a badly-damaged structure, like a liver or pancreas severely compromised and barely able to perform its usual function.






And yet, wrapped inside what seems like a desolate truth, that flexibility of personal identity, that fluidity, offers the key to a different kind of recovery: a self not "whole" in a conventional sense - certainly not the "old self" - but someone radically new. What is retained is a kind of bare essence (and where in the brain does that reside? How much do we know about the mysterious structure that supposedly calls all the shots in human existence?). Gabrielle Giffords has become not so much a shadow-self as a sister-self, a kind of spiritual twin, someone who looks like her, gestures like her, but is (in the words of the great poet Yeats) "changed, changed utterly."

"A terrible beauty is born," the poet says. And because of this bizarre miracle, beauty has somehow emerged from the very worst kind of terror.



Monday, November 14, 2011

Suddenly, when you least expect it


Suddenly
when you least expect it:












the sky balloons in a fever of fire

all is changed, disarranged        and

retrieve though you try

there is no rely       or re-try




suddenly
when you
least
expect
it:

all
falls
away
in
an instant
then

life
meets
leap



and the eye
of i-dea
the chime
of mine
or thine:






Suddenly, when you least expect it
comes the sweetest taste you will never-ly know
on the lips like God's very kiss
but oh can you know it
oh can you know?



and when's-it your turn?
do you think you know when?
Don't say that you know
it comes when
it comes when?


if your tears were the ever-last thing that I saw -


if your sweet fruits of mirth were my last burst of song




                                                                   if
all pink things
were
                 sweet-ripped, yes

today: then

today,         then -

                                                    today

Sunday, November 13, 2011

There's that bird again!




OK then. . .one more Oz video, and I promise to shut up. Though we haven't quite resolved the controversy over the Suicidal Munchkin in  The Wizard of Oz, we're closing in on a solution. Conspiracy theorists swear they see a munchkin swinging from a noose in the background of the sprightly "We're Off to See the Wizard" quickstep number. And I've seen it, believe me I've seen it. It was way weird and it really did look like something swinging, even if it was only a sandbag.

Then these other clips of the same scene started showing up that had something else in place of the so-called dead munchkin.  If you really looked at it, it was obviously a giant bird of some kind stretching its wings out. Bizarre, but that's what it looked like.

So now Oz afficionados are combing every frame of the movie to find evidence of That Bird. And here it is! Right at the beginning of the Tin Man's song, one of my personal faves because I loved how he had to be oiled, you see a giant bird madly flapping its wings between Dorothy and the Tin Man. It's only on for a second, but if you watch for it it's totally obvious.

So which came first. . . dead midget or flapping crane?
Which one is real, and which one is photoshopped? Wouldn't it be a whole lot easier to photoshop a swinging dead body than a bird?

But that just raises another issue: what the hell is a tin man? I mean. . . a scarecrow. A lion, yes. Maybe even a munchkin, coz there are lots-a short people around. But who'd make a guy outta tin, I ask you. In the original book he was the Tin Woodman, but that doesn't make me feel too much better.

As for that bird, who knew? I don't remember no dern-toon-derrin' birds in Wizard of Oz. I need to watch the whole thing again and do a bird count.

http://members.shaw.ca/margaret_gunning/betterthanlife.htm

Outward Bound





Outward bound upon a ship that sails no ocean
Outward bound, it has no crew but me and you
All alone when just a minute ago the shore was filled with people
With people that we knew






Outward bound upon a journey without ending
Outward bound, uncharted waters beneath our bow
Far behind, the green familiar shore is fading into time
And time has left us now







So farewell, adieu, so long, vaya con Dios
May they find whatever they are looking for
Remember when the wine was better than ever again
We could not ask, we could not ask for more












Outward bound upon a ship with tattered sail
Outward bound upon a crooked lonesome trail
Things we learn, we'll just be satisfied in knowing
And we'll tell it to our kids as a fairy tale











So farewell, adieu, so long, vaya con Dios
May they find whatever they are looking for
Remember when the wine was better than ever again
We could not ask, we could not ask for more



http://members.shaw.ca/margaret_gunning/betterthanlife.htm

Saturday, November 12, 2011

The Ultimate Wizard of Oz GIF!




As Michael Jackson used to say: THIS IS IT!



Munchkin Suicide Debunked: IT'S A BIRD!




Good morning, people. I've found the answer to the munchkin suicide riddle in The Wizard of Oz. Someone actually found a scene where a very large bird is wandering around loose on the set. It looks gigantic, like some sort of dinosaur, which I guess is creepy enough. The woman on the video calls it a "peacock", but it's much too tall for that (peacocks go sideways rather than up), like a crane of some sort. It has a long neck and a very wide wingspan which you can clearly see in the background scene. Its head dips up and down and it partially turns. Now, I have no idea why they let birds wander around loose like this, probably leaving gigantic birdie-poops all over the set, or whether there were any other critters around that we just haven't ever focused on. I'd have to watch it again and be on "critter alert". It'd be interesting! Maybe there's a bandicoot having sex in the background or something.

(but I found this also, just now: Wiki sez there might be something going on:)

Hanging Munchkin Suicide Rumor
An urban legend claims that, in the 1939 film, a Munchkin can be seen committing suicide (hanging by the neck from a prop tree and swinging back and forth) far away (left) in the background, while the Tin Man, Dorothy, and the Scarecrow are singing "We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz!" and skipping down the Yellow brick road into the distance. However, what is mistaken for a Munchkin can be seen to be a large bird (possibly an emu or a crane) spreading its wings; there is a black tip on the wings. However there are many thoughts thats the bird was editted into the videos and DVDs upon realisation at the view. There are known to be two clips of the scene, one with a shadow that looks like the bird and another that looks like the hanging munchkin [42]

We'll try to avoid analyzing all the spelling and grammar imistakes in this article - it's likely one of those entries of questionable validity. But the truth is, I DID see two clips that were very different from each other. The video where the speed slows down to a near-crawl shows what looks eerily like a small maybe-human figure, or else a sack of cement, hanging and swaying back and forth. Now the hanging camp is saying the bird was photoshopped in later to cover the macabre view (and to avoid dragging everyone back into the studio for a retake). But that leaves the mystery of the large emu or crane or whatever, bumbling around on the set in earlier scenes. My bet is still with the bird.


The Wizard of Oz: Little People, Big Suicide





Alrighty then! Having scouted around amongst the hundreds of Wizard of Oz clips with dangling little people, I've found some pretty convincing truth that what we see in the background is a giant bird wandering around loose on the set, dipping its head to eat something and then stretching its wings out. The more you look at it, the more you see it.

The one I posted yesterday was just weird, as if they had somehow altered the image to look like something swinging back and forth. I think it had been doctored to match the urban/Hollywood myth about the suicidal munchkin.

I found another video that I will also post, in which we actually see the bird in another scene! I want to watch the whole movie again: probably there are lots of weird creatures wandering around to add atmosphere.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Wizard of Oz GIFs: And your little dog, too!







 

The Wicked Witch: Isn't She Lovely





While we're on the subject of Oz, let's get away from dead munchkins hanging from trees for a while and look at a little snippet of Margaret Hamilton's screen test for The Wizard of Oz. This wasn't an audition, as she was an obvious shoo-in with her ascetic face and gorgeously witch-y voice. I think this was a test of makeup and costume: the producers didn't want another Buddy Ebsen on their hands (he nearly expired from the lead-based makeup for the Tin Man and had to wait thirty more years to attain legendary status as Jed Clampett on The Beverley Hillbillies).

She does a little good-natured witching, showing her hands to the camera,  etc., but from .16 to .20 she suddenly smiles so radiantly that you wonder how she ever could've played such a . . . witch. She actually looks lovely, sunny, and full of good humour.

Who'd a thunkit, eh?


Munchkin Suicide: Caught on Tape!





Do you sincerely wish to be creeped out? Then watch this. There's been an internet rumour around for years about The Wizard of Oz: supposedly you can see a munchkin hanging himself in the background while Dorothy, the Tin Man and the Scarecrow do their sprightly little "Off to See the Wizard" quickstep.

I have no idea if the tape has been doctored, or if it's just something else in the background (though it does appear to swing oddly). In other versions, definitely doctored, you see legs kicking out. In still others, the munchkin is hanging upside-down. Not the best way to kill yourself.

The reason given is that he was up for the part of the third flying monkey from the left, and didn't get it due to his Armenian accent.

How many times have I seen this movie? I still watch it once in a while, and it's crackin' good. It holds up well and is beautifully performed all the way through by actors who seem to relish their parts. (Next time you watch it, pay close attention to Ray Bolger when Dorothy is saying goodbye at the end: those are real tears in his eyes. Something about Judy Garland grabbed the heart of even this seasoned old pro.) It even has a timeless message: you gotta find everything out for yourself, kid - no matter how obvious the lesson is in retrospect.

When I was a kid, it would come on once a year like Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol (the one with the "razzleberry dressing"), and nobody had a colour TV. But everybody got excited about it and talked about it in school. It didn't bother us that Dorothy stepped from the black-and-white world of the barnyard to the magical, astonishing black-and-white world of Oz because we thought it was spozed-ta be that way.

When I first saw it in colour, and God knows when that was, maybe on TV much later, I was blinded by all the sequins. Everything seems to glitter in this, but then again, Oz is a supernatural sort of place, isn't it? And I'll bet all those sequins were sewn on by hand.

And it took me forever to figure out that it was the same guys at the beginning, you know, that guy that falls into the piggy poo and stuff. And why'd they have such a runty little dog on a farm? I guess the border collie didn't get the part.

And oh, I still cry when Dorothy's imprisoned in the witch's tower and the hourglass is running out and Aunty Em appears in the crystal ball and says, Dorothy! Dorothy, where are you? I'm embarrassed, but I always do.

My grandkids watched this on DVD a couple years ago, and while Caitlin squirmed around and stood on her head a lot, she seemed to enjoy at least parts of it. She had fun imitating the actors' nasal New England and Bronxian accents, i. e. "If I only had a haaahhhht," and "Dah-rah-thee!" Surprisingly, Ryan, then four, was playing cars as usual, but dropped what he was doing, sat cross-legged, and watched the whole thing almost without blinking. I asked him what he liked best, and he showed me his dimple and said, "I liked the ending."

Ah, yes - so do we all.

So anyway, what's creepy about this clip isn't so much the shadowy "something" in the background (and God knows what it really is; most movies have multiple flubs in them even now), but the way the sound keeps slowing down and slowing down until it's an inhuman, dragged-out, almost Satanic groan, the music pounding and thudding and the voices bawling like tortured animals.

S'cool! I liked it, too.




I'm in the band







Thursday, November 10, 2011

The First Movie

Favorite rejection letters



Rejections. Oh yes, indeed. You're supposed to paper a wall with them, and no doubt I could have papered a whole house, except that I prefer to use them to roast weenies.

Here's a favorite, scrawled acress my original query letter and sent back to me in my stamped self-addressed envelope: "THANKS, BUT NO THANKS."

 


(I kind of get a kick out of the fact that I have to pay to get these things. They're either too cheap or don't want to bother putting a stamp on something.)


Rubber-stamped in upper right-hand corner of original letter: "LIST IS FULL."


"Dear Ms. Gunning. We read your science fiction story. Frankly, the only idea we've seen more often than this one is the guy going back in time and stepping on a butterfly."






"Hi Margaret, we liked your story, but why does it have to be so depressing? Lighten up!"


"After much consideration, we do not feel that you are ready for the novel form."


"LIST IS FULL."


"Though we are all in agreement that your novel is destined for the best-seller list, we are certain it will not be with us."




"This may be the wrong decision, in fact we may regret it for the rest of our lives, but - no."


"Some fine writing here, and you should definitely keep at it, but this is just not up to our standards."


"Sorry."


"Why does the violin talk?"





By extension, let's take a look at some of those Famous Rejections we're always hearing about. My personal favorites are the ones that are completely fabricated (by me).




"Dear Mr. Clemens. This boy character of yours is completely repugnant. His so-called "adventures" will never draw a readership, particularly since you insist on pairing him with that Negro person."


"Dear Mr. Dickens. To begin with, we don't like your pen-name - no one will take it seriously - and we are unclear about one thing. Which 'two cities' do you mean?"





"Miss Bronte, why must you insist on scribbling away like this when you could be making yourself useful doing needlework instead?"


"Mr Poe, pick yourself up out of the gutter and turn that morbid mind of yours to more wholesome subjects. That black bird of yours is most unattractive."






















"My dear Miss Alcott, to set your story during the Civil War is nothing but a cheap device to gain reader sympathy. And as for those four girls - they are unmemorable and dreadfully dull."


"Mr. Yeats, not to put to fine a point on it, your poems are an undecipherable mess. Study rhyme and meter before approaching us again."













"Dear Mr. King: Please be advised that menstruation is not an acceptable topic, even in a horror novel. We advise that you take up some other field of endeavour."


"Mr. Joyce. Condolences on your illness. We hope you find a suitable sanitorium in the near future."




















(And, here it is - my all-time favorite):



"Whales, Mr. Melville?"



 
(Codicil. Interesting little note, below. I wonder if they rejected him. Bazinga!)


Dear Editor,

     I am 14 years of age, and have been writing as far back as I can remember, and submitting manuscripts for the last couple of years. I subscribe to your magizine (sic), and my favorite feature is the Obituary department, although "O. Henry's Comet", for which this story is intended, runs a close second.
     Thanks very much for reading my story. I hope you see your way clear to put it in "O. Henry's Comet."

                        Sincerely,
                        Stephen King
                        Rt #1, Bownal
                                Maine

                                                                  
          

                                                              http://margaretgunnng.blogspot.com/2012/01/synopsis-glass-character-novel-by.html