Category Archives: Great Books

Great Books, Observed

Our Arc

Boomers came of age and enjoyed the hell out of the American Century. We thrived during its apex. No apologies!
We hoped to pass this plateau along to subsequent generations of Americans then watch them continue what had been “American Exceptionalism.” Why, maybe they could launch a Second American Century. Instead, Boomers get to witness the abrupt end of the nation’s once undisputed prominence.

Yes, there was once such a phenomenon as the American Century. Some might consider that view self-grandiosity. Certainly, the envious, jealous populaces who crowd the planet beyond our shores would plainly complain of our at times of light hogging grandeur upon the stage. Grandeur, yes. Thankfully, our still young Republic has yet to mature into hauteur.

We’re not France. Continue reading Our Arc →

Baboon America, Great Books, Lost Wages, Observed, Struwwelpeter for Adults

Random December

This last post of 2024 could be an homage to John Dos Passos. The early Dos Passos. Before life soured him rightward into becoming a reactionary. Until then, let’s consider him a “lost generation” writer alongside Ernest Hemingway. As did Hemingway, Dos Passos also reported from Spain during its 1936-39 Civil War. There’s where the pair diverged. Before the war, Dos Passos had established solid progressive cred with his 1925 novel Manhattan Transfer. He followed that with his USA trilogy (titles published in 1930, 1932, 1936, respectively) comprised of The 42nd Parallel, 1919, and The Big Money. Throughout his USA fiction, he dropped in biographical elements and reportage. No need for fiction in 2024. Just real life that should sicken conscientious Americans. What follows has been plucked from a month of Slow Boat Media social media observations and commentary. It is who we’ve allowed ourselves to become. Continue reading Random December →

Baboon America, Great Books

We Have Plenty Yet We Are Poorer

As has been written elsewhere, Thanksgiving is the best of all American holidays. It commemorates nothing. Especially now that the indigenous North American people are letting the rest of us know they regard the arrival of Europeans on these shores as a parasitic invasion.

Columbus Day, anybody? Continue reading We Have Plenty Yet We Are Poorer →

Great Books, Lost Wages, Observed

Useless Clouds

August is the Mojave Desert’s most challenging month.

While unavoidably sweltering, it’s generally less torrid than July. August actually starts letting residents kind of imagine autumnal respite in ways July absolutely forbids.

Until the last several summers, July counted as the “monsoon month.” Indeed, rain in quantifiable measures wetted if not outright soaked this region. Away from Las Vegas in the desert proper one might’ve believed he or she heard the parched dirt greedily gulp whatever rain had fallen. Continue reading Useless Clouds →

Agitprop/Propaganda, Baboon America, Great Books

Precipitating Violence

Why, Americans randomly shooting ourselves has become so common the sting that once pierced us, the outrage which once consumed us upon hearing the news, has dulled. That news has gotten short-lived, too.

Quickly now, name the last wanton outbreak of death delivered by an asocial man who’s shattered a peaceful day with his assault rifle. One we’ve foolishly permitted him to possess. Perhaps killings are occurring or will occur while you read this. Doubtlessly shortly thereafter then. Continue reading Precipitating Violence →

Great Books, Observed, Quarropas

New Start at New Address

Those Metropolitan Museum of Art bulletins are having an insidious effect. They remind of what’s been left behind. That’s why I’m already looking ahead to August 2015 for a return to New York.

Of course one upside regarding this move to Nevada is finally being able to enter contests whose grand prizes are all-expense paid trips to New York City. Before, sponsors never failed stuffing my inbox or mailbox with entries. For trips to New York City. Maybe if I lived in Buffalo or Plattsburgh the excursion offered might’ve been worthwhile.

Instead, had I entered and somehow won, travel would’ve consisted of catching a commuter train to Grand Central Terminal, then, depending on the hotel, taking a subway or cab there.

That sojourn wouldn’t have provoked any bug-eyed, screaming gratitude. That just would’ve been another weekend downtown.

Strangely enough now that I live in Las Vegas, I’m receiving pitches whose big prizes are Vegas vacations. Like I said, strange. Continue reading New Start at New Address →

Great Books, Pop Culture

Unwritten

    After rather involved February and March posts, the intent was to have been concise through April. Content will still be shorter but the subjects have changed.

    April 2014 is the centenary of French author Marguerite Duras’ birth. Best known here for her book The Lover (most guys watched the movie version to ogle a gloriously naked Jane March), Duras also collaborated on the Hiroshima, Mon Amour script, a cinematic feat that set intellectuals, and those who adore their brilliance, swooning. Continue reading Unwritten →

Great Books

Not Your Father’s Blue Carbuncle


    We’re dumbing down Sherlock Holmes. If the recent Robert Downey, Jr., efforts making “Sherlocking” more accessible for the earbud/self-absorbed set weren’t puerile enough, BBC TV has gone whole-hog to render Arthur Conan Doyle’s detective and his associate Dr. John Watson relevant for 21st century viewers.

    No need to wonder what Conan Doyle might’ve made of those revisions. He would’ve looked at them as if H.G. Wells had monkeyed with his template. On absinthe.

    The Downey reboots were jarring. Are jarring. Will be jarring. Holmes as imagined by Sax Rohmer. Or H. Rider Haggard. Ripping yarns instead of Victorian Age mysteries. Holmes mirrored his time. Downey’s Holmes distorts it. Continue reading Not Your Father’s Blue Carbuncle →