These were taken with my favorite 35mm, which sadly broke in Peru.
And other true statements. about me »
Archives for the month of: November, 2009
There is nothing better in life, apart from Jazz music and coffee, than finding something long forgotten. In this case, it would be some film from tree planting and a trip to the bike shop with Sean.
These were taken with my favorite 35mm, which sadly broke in Peru.
These were taken with my favorite 35mm, which sadly broke in Peru.
Here is our new dog Baily. He is a Havanese and we got him from animatch.ca
He’s really excitable, friendly and loyal. He wouldn’t stop moving, hence the reason why most of my pictures are pretty blurry.
He’s really excitable, friendly and loyal. He wouldn’t stop moving, hence the reason why most of my pictures are pretty blurry.
Last night I had one of the worst nights sleep I’ve had in a very long time. I woke up at least 3 times in a cold sweat and had vivid dreams of being on death row, escaping prison or being in an insane asylum. The reason was simple, I had just finished one of the heaviest, most depressing books I have ever read.
The book, Every Man Dies Alone by Hans Fallada tells the true story of a German couple, who after the loss of their son decide to start an extensive campaign dropping hundreds of anonymous postcards throughout Berlin denouncing the Nazi’s. The are eventually caught and executed.
The book, Every Man Dies Alone by Hans Fallada tells the true story of a German couple, who after the loss of their son decide to start an extensive campaign dropping hundreds of anonymous postcards throughout Berlin denouncing the Nazi’s. The are eventually caught and executed.
The following might be considered a spoiler so please don’t continue if you intend to read this book, which you should!
Although the Quangel’s viewed themselves as heroes and imagined that their postcards inspired people to action, the effect was to the exact opposite. Almost all the postcards ended up in the hands of the police and the amount of misery these cards brought was beyond comprehension:
Ulrich Heffkes: Tortured for information and dies alone in an asylum. Enno Kluge: dead of a “suicide”. Hetty Haberle: assumed dead or captured. Anna Schonlein: caught by the Gestapo and probably dead. Persicke: dead in an asylum. Frau Rosenthal: jumps out of a window and dies. Emil Borkhausen: ends up in jail for 2 years. Inspector Escherich: kills himself after catching the Quangel’s. Trudel Baumann: dead of a suicide. Karl Hergesell: dead of a skull fracture.
Of the 22 or so main characters, more than half end up dead and the rest leave you wishing they were aswell.
Almost all these people directly or indirectly died, were tortured or were imprisoned because of the Quangel’s. The ones that didn’t still led miserable lives and died in miserable ways. In the entire books, only two characters end on a positive note and they are one of maybe four characters that do not appear completely dehumanized.
Do nothing. No one will help you. You will die alone and separated from anything and anyone you love. Your efforts are futile.
The heroes in this story died with pride and heads held high and a trail of destruction and death behind them.
Enjoy.
My mom, obviously on edge today and generally on edge these days in the absence of a dog, was at her worst this morning after our plumber called.
“The sink is leaking again and after he fixed it for 30$ the other day!” “Now he needs another 20$ and if it’s anything like our shower head, your father will need to come in no time to do the final repairs. We need to find someone new.”
And in classic Jewish neurosis ended this tirade with a pause and the well thought out statement of:
“I don’t know…you just can’t trust people these days and who knows, if I got someone new we could end up with a murderer!”
As if the only two options are to stay with the bad plumber or die at the hands of a new one.
“The sink is leaking again and after he fixed it for 30$ the other day!” “Now he needs another 20$ and if it’s anything like our shower head, your father will need to come in no time to do the final repairs. We need to find someone new.”
And in classic Jewish neurosis ended this tirade with a pause and the well thought out statement of:
“I don’t know…you just can’t trust people these days and who knows, if I got someone new we could end up with a murderer!”
As if the only two options are to stay with the bad plumber or die at the hands of a new one.
As she grudgingly threw a 20$ bill on the table and left the house I imagined our plumber, aptly named Joe, who I’ve yet to meet as a larger French-Canadian man, balding and unfriendly.
And let me tell you, it’s hard to fault someone for their plumbing skills when a small, tender man in his sixties with silver hair knocks on your door. And it’s much harder to fault him when upon discovering the issue, let’s out an excited yelp of “HOLY Jumping Jupiter!” 3 times in a row.
I for one and keen on keeping him on as our handyman. They just don’t make them like they used to and his inability as a handyman are completely made-up for in his 1960′s charm and complexion.
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Four pieces of good luck out of this week are that Dave and I have safely arrived back home after a 12 hour flight and 8 hour overnight bus to Montreal. My credit card is paid off. I applied for school and will hopefully be starting in January and I finally ended my winter coat dilemma.
I don’t have a picture to show but it’s an authentic 1940′s Navy peacoat. It has 8 buttons and looks to be nice and fitted.
In the past 4 years I have not owned a coat that I’ve worn the following year and am excited to own something so classic, always wearable. I should probably sell my coats on eBay, for I have amassed quite the collection that will never grace my shoulders again.