The many shades of hell, and the bright-line color of pure evil.

Free markets v. Road to hell

Hell comes in many shades of a similarly themed hue but demonic evil on earth is one bright-line distinction color of woe and is recognizable usually when it's too late, viz., when society is no longer free, when free speech is no longer acceptable and part of any sort of protected Bill of Rights, or when the public square is not about difference of opinion but a forced march of tyrannical compliance wearing similar uniforms, same hairstyles usually purple, speaking an affected patois of nattering neologisms, saluting the same flag, newly minted to project or virtue signal in bright happy colors that belie their nascent dark destruction of 400 years of culture.

That sort of evil wears down families; divides weary parents; and attempts to separate their children from the protection of the herd on the receiving end of 50 years of subversion, a benighted constancy of malignant, malevolent language and a purposeful syllabus of agenda-based worldview that seeks to scold merit, retard erudition, and hobble robust western ideals.

Someone once said the road to hell is filled with good intentions.  The Left wants you to believe they've always had good intentions, but theirs is the road to the purest form of evil, i.e., tyranny ... and they brought hell with them.

Share |

How do I say this without sounding corny ...

Kat Daddy's in Lower Alabama ... a different LA

I love Los Angeles. All of it. But, here in this very expensive city, the rush-rush-rush all day long-long-long really does make one feel as if they are, well, draggin' arse.  About ten years back, I gave up, sort of, and so am about to make a decision to "keep up" once again, as it were regarding a new career choice.  LA offers lots of professional choices. To be continued.  But, I'm thankful to a friend (two actually) and a cousin who is a brother from my mother's sister, for their kicking me (politely) in the arse because I was draggin' a-double-ass.

Amongst cities in California, I've lived in LA neighborhoods in South Central and Inglewood, Korea Town and Malibu Canyon (tucked into the Santa Monica Mountains where mountain lions and bobcats and coyotes and roadrunners and deer and raccoon and cranes and red-tailed hawks and peregrine falcons and wild parakeet and great-horned owls and well, all such animals live -- in fact, just down the road apiece from where I live, the ubiquitous they -- truly mad people -- are about to build an "animal bridge" so that these aforementioned animals can transverse Hwy 101 safely ... a $50million double ugh).  I've lived behind the "Orange curtain" (Orange County) in Newport Beach and in Irvine (both of which many people still consider and call "LA"), and I've lived in the Valley (San Fernando to be precise -- which many Westsiders would like NOT to consider part of LA). Los Angeles has many (read, hundreds) of neighborhoods, each unique and ugly and beautiful in their own way.   I mean, c'mon, there are 11 million of us living here, so it figures, am I right? You could literally make a movie about all of them. In the last few decades Echo Park or Los Feliz or Hollywood or Silver Lake are the only cities that seem to make a dent on the writers' imaginations of these geo-prejudiced films -- I myself plead guilty of a yarn set in K-Town.

Food covers a host of (lack of) cultural sins for many of these more challenging neighborhoods which are dirty and dangerous and oft-dull.  But, good food overcomes, brotha. Good food overcomes all manner of bad neighborhoods, bad neighbors, suspect food trucks, restaurants with "C" health ratings, and even ugly architecture.  Bland design, the horror! but the unfortunate ho-hum ubiquity of many parts of SoCal. But that good food, gawd dang, it's good when it's good. When great? Holy cow it's sooo good.  Like Jonathan Gold good. Jonathan Gold, legendary food critic, within weeks of discovering he had pancreatic cancer, passed away -- he the casually nonplussed cool writer with the platinum palate.  He was a foodie god around these parts. He knew LA / SoCal neighborhoods like no one. His reviews, insights, encouragements, and taste will hereafter be missed. I've gotten to know many LA writers (of magazines and newspapers and online zines of all sizes and import) over the years. He's one I'd have wandered endlessly strange LA lands to meet and treat to a luncheon meeting. RIP JG the other.  Here's what Nancy Silverton (Mozza) had to say in the LATimes.

“He, more than any chef, changed the dining scene in Los Angeles,” said longtime friend, chef and Mozza co-owner Nancy Silverton. “He really was the ambassador for our city.”

So, if, no, when you come to LA, just know that when I say hundreds of neighborhoods, I mean it. You can enjoy or get offended by each and every one of them. But, if you come to LA, come also looking for good food, you'll appreciate the journey regardless of the architecture that may be lacking.

See you when you get here, Dear Reader.  If you know your dates of arrival I'll pick you up at LAX!

Share |

John Gautereaux shares some lovely old words ... hoary even

Ex libris FatScribe

Just thought I'd share some of the words I've been collecting over the last few years.  When I have to look up a definition, or if I especially like the sound of a word, I'll jot them down in one of several journals I have desk-side here at FatScribe South (San Diego).  The one thing I absolutely adore and am so thankful to God for, is that both my kids love words (and concepts) and can deconstruct a sentence or a film, a photo or a book and really find the subtext, the sub rosa meanings in chosen words, images, layers, and even the sequence of scenes or placement of objects as shared by a director, author, or photographer with us, their audience. There's nothing like a smart creative paying homage to us, their muse, n'est pas?  Especially when we "get it."  And a double especially when our progeny and brood pick up on these little hidden Easter eggs and meanings and double entendres within a piece, written or otherwise.

Quick note: for my take on books, have a read here: Eleven in '11 ... No. 2 (books)

I stumbled upon a favorite "talky" film from 1987 that I thoroughly enjoyed when it was first released, and that I purchased on YouTube (Google) several years ago to show my sons.  84 Charing Cross Road is a film with lots of books, fountain pens, and great actors, viz., Anne Bancroft, Anthony Hopkins, Judy Dench and Mercedes Ruehl.  The film is based upon Helene Hanff's life and her epistolary relationship with Mr. FPD (see photo, infra) of Marks and Co.  There are no explosions. No CGI. No sexy-sexy time with shades of gray or gory-gory time with pools of red.  Just -- as our 44th president said in an infamous speech -- "words, just words." I love those words.  The Bible says, "In the beginning was the Word ..." and I've always appreciated that construct of channeling revelation to man via those words. I cherish them, and have tried to transfer that love to my Creole/Cajun boys and they do, cherish them that is. Thank you, Lord, for that.

I call the particular journal that I use to track words in "Heuristica," and it's where I work out little problems, ideas, meanings of certain turns of phrase, as well as these words that follow for your enjoyment if you're a fellow wordsmith, sesquipedalian or lover of all things related to the word.

84 Charing Cross Road, an Anglophile's dream

For example, try some of these on for size:

• Fecundity -- An ability to produce large amount of offspring; fertile
• Panglossian -- Overly optimistic 
• Concomitant -- Naturally accompanying 
• Factotum -- A handyman, assistant
• Depredation -- Plunder
• Mendacious -- Lying
• Sidle -- Walk up to in an unobtrusive manner
• Provenance -- Authenticate authorship
• Burnish -- to polish up

If you're like me, Dear Reader, you're constantly placing marginalia throughout your own personal library. My kids know I've read many of my books "ex libris Jg." because when they open them, they notice my chicken scratch is filled throughout these tomes in the form of so many exclamation marks for really good points, or where I offer my own better points or word choices (he said humbly), or simply tangential thoughts with references to other works by other writers to complement and compliment (words ... love 'em).

Then there are these other words to consider that are found within the velvet cover of The Heuristica of FatScribe over the last few years:

• Hoary -- Old, trite or washed-out 
• Patois -- Vernacular of a people (creole)
• Twee -- Overly sentimental; sweet, sappy, saccharine
• Erstwhile -- Former (in the past)
• Enervate -- To cause to lose power; drained
• Sublimate -- Divert or modify to become more acceptable
• Arriviste -- Ruthlessly self-seeking, ambitious person
• Internecine -- Destructive to both sides in a rivalry
• Recondite -- Abstruse, little known
• Preening -- Clean one's feathers; upright; straight
• Wabi-sabi -- Japanese seeing beauty in patina of imperfection 
• Sturm & Drang -- Storm & stress; drama

I won't go into too much more detail here, just wanted to share with you all some of the words found on about 30 or so pages in this 200 page journal. I'm sure we'll fill it up someday, maybe not soon, but soon enough. As always, thanks for the visit.

Share |

I want to look at a clock ...

I want to look at a clock, one with hands— on the wall or on a bookshelf — to tell the time.  I don’t want to look at a phone, unless it’s ringing.

I want to fish into my pocket to find a quarter and slot it into a candy machine, where I have to hand crank it to get some M&Ms or a gumball to tumble out.

I want to drive on a gravelly road, on whitewalls on an old truck with a real carburetor, with a rusty-hinged door that creaks open, with me and the wife and kids going to get a Coke.

I’d like to write a letter to the Editor of the Times and have it published and then receive thoughtful comments back from identified readers with an opposite opinion, instead of today’s trolls.

I’d like to go to a physical bookstore, smell the stacks, buy a book, read it and put it on my bookshelf. I’d like to think that there’s a world where that is still possible.

I’d like to know all in my neighborhood and their kids and barking dogs, even their family history. I’d like that rather than having no clue who my neighbors are two doors down.

Would that we could avoid the tyranny of the urgent, pulling us unproductively.

Would that we could avoid the trappings of “success,” tempting us to riches or fame.

Would that you and I could embrace the here and now, not yesterday’s failures or tomorrow's ersatz victories, framing for us a present life worthy of living.

Share |