Dramatic Chipmunk is my new totem

Usually I am dead against the embedding of u-tube into blogs, it’s spelled to doom of many-a blog and as a medium, is rendering the web into passive-mode. I’m sure Mr.McLuhan would have scathing things to say about it all.

However I will make an exception in this instance. Dramatic chipmunk speaks to me on many, many levels. First, I like that fact that it’s not actually a chipmunk but is in fact a “prairie dog”; so many things are not what the claim to be. Further, what ever tard decided to call these things dogs should be shot, or dug up and then shot; so many things are not what they really are, on level.

Plus, also he looks like Gregory Peck in Moby Dick.
I wish there were a way I could carry it around. Maybe I can put it on my phone. It would be my response to most things. Person A. says, “hey yak we’re going to Itaewon for indian food, you wanna come with?” and I respond by displaying five seconds of Dramatic Chipmunk. End of story.

And so, from now on, for however long it lasts, when I am bereft of direction when it comes to the more profound questions that life throws at me, I will look to the countenance of Dramatic Chipmunk for inspiration in answer.
Might get it put on a teeshirt too.

dramatis chipmunkis

This week I’m only watching films that have submarines in.

Submarines. Amazing things aren’t they? They’re out there right now, floating around under the water. People are living and working on them, sleeping, eating, singing, playing guitars, playing ping-pong… well maybe not ping pong — maybe pong. The paddles in Pong are a lot like submarines, the way they silently hover up and down the blackness of the screen.

The wikipedia has a whole specific page on submarine movies, which is convenient.
I d/loaded and tried watching Das Boot, it means ‘the boat’ in German. I thought it’d be interesting to get the german perspective on the whole u-boats in ww2 thing. Incidentally, u-boat is short for “unterseeboot” in german, which is fair enough, and while we nongerman types make the distinction between submarines and uboats, the germans call all submarines uboats, which I’m sure has resulted in more than a few altercations.

Unfortunately the subtitles in Das Boot were out of sinc with the speaking, so when the captain and cohort were over at the bar saying how it was good for the men to take a rest and whatnot, it showed them passing the odd word to the barmaid. That’s fine, but then they turn around and lean against the bar and some other dude all in uniform comes over and fixes them with dead-steely german gaze and the subtitles say he’s saying, “two beers”. It’s just not right.
I had to abandon das boot and will give d/ling it another try this arvo.

Luckily I had a backup submarine movie ready to go, U-571, a recently-made piece of hollyweird dreck that had (briefly) Kurt Russell in it. Kurt Russell’s acting range spans from playing Kurt Russell, to playing Kurt Russell with a deeper voice. In this one it was the latter. Thankfully his character burnt to death.

It was all about stealing a typewriter, which in fact is something that the British did, not USA, but I guess these things don’t have to tell the truth. That part of the film was over pretty quickly. There was some sub on sub action, which sound pretty homo-erotic, and I guess it is, then the rest was sub vs ship… the sub lurking around, biding it time, waiting for an opportunity to use torpedoes to penetrate the ship’s hull. I wonder what Freud would say about it. I wonder what Jung would say about it.

I have recently been trying to read some Jung. He briefly mentions the point of when he and Freud parted ways — why hasn’t anybody dramatised that?

thinking about bears

That’s right, it’s the first look back into the Breaks archives. From early June, 05 and a little bit dedicated to bear-spirit, PK, whose birthday it was on wednesday.

* * *

I was hiking up over the local hill the other afternoon and I came across this bear. Or at least I thought he was a bear. He was sitting on a rock wrestling with his foot. He noticed me standing there watching him.
“Grrr”, he said.

I was about to pull the camera out of my backpack.
“If you’re not going to run away then could you help me?”, he says.
“What’s wrong?”
“Damn zipper’s stuck”.
“You’re not really a bear are you?”
“Did you run away from a circus?”
“Do you work for a promotions company?”
“I give up then.”

“I’m from the next world.”
“Wow…. y’know I’m no way near as curious as some people. I guess I’ll just find out when I get there, or so I’ve always thought. But since you’re here, and since I’ve thought of it right now instead of next week or something … what’s it like? The afterlife I mean.”

He stood up slowly and had a bit of a scratch of the back of his fake-fur covered neck with his fake-fur covered paw/hand. There was little black fuzzy-felt triangles at the end that must’ve been claws. He stretched, slightly bending this way, that way, and I could tell he was kind of chuffed about playing the expert.

“It’s a lot like here really.”
“Yep. Well actually it’s not as good as here.”
“Oh pffft, get outta here!”
Yeah. Sure it’s cleaner but you walk around the streets and think ‘Where’s all the people?’ It’s cold most of the time and the lunch and dinner menus are limited, and by limited I mean limited. Mostly it’s pulse based, and that grain, what’s that grain … ?“
”I’m sure I don’t know.“
”No one gets much of a say in anything.“

I was looking into the small square of meshed netting below the protruding, patent leather bear nose. I was 8/10ths sure it was a normal human face in there, but then a couple of times I saw some pin-points of odd, gold glow.

”Listen can you take a look at this zip. I think something’s caught in it.“

The zip attaching the headpiece of the bear suit was well and truly stuffed and I said as much.

”Why are you wearing this now anyway?“
”We’re not supposed to leave. It’s against the rules. But man, now and then, I get this thing for raw fish and there’s this joint in the Downtown that does it just right. The only way to get out is to get disguised as an animal.“

Sometimes when I’m tasked with something I get carried away at wanting to succeed. I yanked at the zipper a few more times and muttered under my breath about how they should’ve used Velcro fasteners.

”I reckon I can get it off but the method might be a bit unconventional okay?“
”Please. I’m boiling in here.“

I grabbed ahold of his fake fur bear ears and yanked but the guy or whatever was almost as tall as me so I couldn’t get enough leverage. I got him to bow forward and I put a foot on his shoulder for purchase. For the sake of warning as to what was coming I called out, ”1, 2, 3, Heave!”

The stitching on the ears was not great by any means and it came clean away. The rest of the bear costume, and what was in it, went barrelling backward over the edge of an unfortunately close ledge. I scrabbled carefully to the edge, bear ears still clamped in my hands, and had a look over. It wasn’t that far down — 10 or 15 metres maybe but he landed on a pointy rock that’d snapped his spine backwards quite nastily.

So I guess he ended up going back to where he came from.
It wasn’t my fault, I swear.

some witty title that references an elongated absence

I don’t really know why. Six or eight weeks can just slip by like the clicking of fingers.
The dyno-linko has still been rolling, have you been watching that?!

While standing still in this place now, in order to go forward, perhaps it is worthwhile having a look back, this way and that.

Since getting back from China roughly two months ago, I did work as per normal, had the 33rd birthday, and my girlfriend, Mdashdash, came to visit for a week on the way back to america. That’s pretty much it. I’m still here in soh-ool and it’s a raining dark summer.

These gears wheels n cogs will grind back to speed but stand by for a week of Sunny Breaks past hi-lites.