Victorian Superstar

I started thinking of Elizabeth Barrett-Browning as I reflected on the past year of my life this morning - not to be so vain as to think I have even a tenth of her talent, but because she became most famous after spending five years bed writing and fell in love.

Wouldn't it be wonderful to be able to rest when we are ill and just do what it is we are actually able to do?

Elizabeth's writing made her famous and inspired Robert Browning to write to her:

January 10th, 1845
New Cross, Hatcham, Surrey

I love your verses with all my heart, dear Miss Barrett, -- and this is no off-hand complimentary letter that I shall write, --whatever else, no prompt matter-of-course recognition of your genius and there a graceful and natural end of the thing: since the day last week when I first read your poems, I quite laugh to remember how I have been turning again in my mind what I should be able to tell you of their effect upon me -- for in the first flush of delight I though I would this once get out of my habit of purely passive enjoyment, when I do really enjoy, and thoroughly justify my admiration -- perhaps even, as a loyal fellow-craftsman should, try and find fault and do you some little good to be proud of herafter! -- but nothing comes of it

all -- so into me has it gone, and part of me has it become, this great living poetry of yours, not a flower of which but took root and grew ... oh, how different that is from lying to be dried and pressed flat and prized highly and put in a book with a proper account at bottom, and shut up and put away ... and the book called a 'Flora', besides! After all, I need not give up the thought of doing that, too, in time; because even now, talking with whoever is worthy, I can give reason for my faith in one and another excellence, the fresh strange music, the affluent language, the exquisite pathos and true new brave thought -- but in this addressing myself to you, your

own self, and for the first time, my feeling rises altogher. I do, as I say, love these Books with all my heart -- and I love you too: do you know I was once seeing you? Mr. Kenyon said to me one morning "would you like to see Miss Barrett?" -- then he went to announce me, -- then he returned ... you were too unwell -- and now it is years ago -- and I feel as at some untorward passage in my travels -- as if I had been close, so close, to some world's-wonder in chapel

on crypt, ... only a screen to push and I might have entered -- but there was some slight ... so it now seems ... slight and just-sufficient bar to admission, and the half-opened door shut, and I went home my thousands of miles, and the sight was never to be!

Well, these Poems were to be -- and this true thankful joy and pride with which I feel myself.

Yours ever faithfully
Robert Browning

And they were to be. Robert became the Browning in her name - her husband. Elizabeth grew stronger through the course of her marriage to Robert and their love is one of the most famous love stories in the history of English writing.

The two became like pop stars and even went on tour through the United States. Their fans were cult like and would dress in brown for the Brownings. Their writings continued to influence popular culture write up through the twentieth century - even inspiring one of John Lennon's last songs: "Grow Old With Me."


Lennon wrote this song basing it on two sources: Yoko Ono's poem called "Let Me Count The Ways, which she used Elizabeth's poetry to help her write; and Robert Browning's "Rabbi Ben Ezra," which begins:

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be...

Even if hard things happen in our lives, good people come to us when we need them most.

Zappa da Moon

I went to one of those web sites where you can find people who have the same birthday as you and this is one of the most interesting people I found: Moon Unit Zappa. Click that link because she has a beautiful (if out-of-date) website.

Moon got famous for being Frank Zappa's daughter, which also (according to her website) seems like it was a tough thing to live down.

If it weren't hard enough having such an outrageously famous dad as Frank Zappa, he recorded her on one of his albums in 1982 - the song "Valley Girl." So, her first name is Moon. Her middle name is Unit. Her siblings names are Dweezil, Ahmet, and Diva. And then she gets famous for like popularizing like val-speak - for sure!

What's cool about her is that she has to have a sense of humour and has had a career in stand-up comedy, acting, and the arts.

In honour of her birthday tomorrow:

Ten Years is Long Enough to Wait for Any Man

Roabelle, Rosabelle,
I love thee more than I can tell...

In 1894 (or thereabouts), Bess Rahner was performing Rosabelle Believe at Coney Island with her sisters, when a magician spilled acid on her new dress. The young magician promised to replace it. She liked him. He got his mother to make her a new dress and brought her back to Coney Island. On their way, they were married and Bess became Mrs. Harry Houdini.

She joined his act and became his biggest supporting player. She believed in magic, witchcraft, all things spiritual - Houdini scared the hell out of her on a regular basis and once made the name of her dead father appear on his arm.

She had a nasty temper too. If the Houdinis fought, Harry would go for a walk, come back quietly into the house and throw his hat into the room where Bess was. If it stayed in the room, he came back. If she threw the hat back out of the room, he went for another walk.

Bess is best remembered for wanting her husband to come back. Harry promised that if there were a way to communicate from beyond the grave that he would do it. Every Halloween for ten years after his death, Bess held a séance. At the tenth séance, when her husband failed to return, she put out the candle and declared that "Ten years is long enough to wait for any man."

So goes the Ballad of Bess Houdini.

How to Sleep

Last night I had a dream. It wasn't a nightmare, but it was very startling and realistic. I woke up all surprised and had to focus to get back to sleep and return to the same dream. I do that often. Sometimes it results in my not sleeping as well as I should, but I get to have the most exciting dreams and I know they are dreams while I am in them. This, apparently, is called lucid dreaming.

A philosopher named Celia Green wrote the book on lucid dreaming. Green is really interested in the mind and body connection. The same year she wrote her book about lucid dreaming, she also wrote about out-of-body experiences.

While I obviously believe in lucid dreaming, I have never been totally convinced about out-of-body experiences. There just seems to be too much hocus pocus around that sort of thing, which is good for stories and all, but really?

What I find interesting about lucid dreaming is the ability to control your dreams. My twin-cousin and I learned to control our dreams as children because she was rather tormented by nightmares. My aunt showed us how to acknowledge we were dreaming when the dreams got to scary or started moving in a direction we didn't like.

In her dreams, my cousin invented a place called the Bureau of Dreams and Wishful Thinking, where she could go and file a complaint any time her dreams got out of control. I am really surprised my cousin grew up to be an artist and not a bureaucrat, but I guess that thinking up something like that has to be creative.

In my dreams, I just had a cloaked shaman, who looked like the mystical personification of death. He telepathically knew how I wanted my dreams to go and would point me in the right direction when my dreams got out of control.

A Melancholy Fool

I love the word melancholy. "I am feeling melancholic." Melon-colic sounds like a fussy baby who wants fruit. Sometimes that's me, but the guy on the left is Robert Burton.

Robby was a gay boy about thirteen years younger than Will Shakespeare. He might have dated Shakespeare's little sister, but he was gay and he wrote a lot about being sad - most famously The Anatomy of Melancholy.

He studied math, which is probably a good enough reason for anyone to be depressed. He liked looking at the stars and laughing at angry barge-men.

Ironically, he wrote The Anatomy of Melancholy for the same reason that I'm writing about him right now - to stop being sad.

"I write of melancholy, by being busy to avoid melancholy. There is no greater cause of melancholy than idleness, no better cure than business."

Writing and being creative are the best things to do when you're sad because you can come up with such great things.




The only thing better, perhaps, is laughter.

The Rock Iguana

I find it a little funny to think that the guy sitting on the far right in the above picture thought of Jim Morrison as an inspiration for his stage performances. But that's just based on one picture. The guy sitting there is actually known as the "Rock Iguana," Iggy Pop. I think everyone knows that Iggy's career went a long way after The Iguanas.

I realized recently that I don't know anywhere near as much about the old Iguana star as I ought to. I knew more songs that were influenced by Iggy Pop than I did songs that were created by Iggy Pop. He influenced R.E.M., the Pixies, Henry Rollins, Sid Vicious, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Peaches, and many others. I know those bands and being someone who loves doing internet research, I decided to find out more about Iggy.

But the internet is such a funny funny place. One minute I find out that the footage of Iggy's historic appearance on an Australian television show was possibly lost forever. The next minute I am watching that footage on Youtube.



But since the above song explains the kind of mood that I'm in. I am going to list the top ten weirdest things that I just found out about the Rock Iguana.

10. He's done voices on the cartoon
American Dad.
9. He was in The Rugrats Movie.
8. He's been interviewed by the fictional
character Emily Strange.
7. He mixes it up with German when he tries
to speak French (I do this too, look!).
6. He had a stalker for 12 years who liked to
go to his concerts and chant: "Iggy.
Lobotomy. Iggy. Lobotomy. Iggy."
5. He supports internet piracy and wants you
to steal his music in MP3 format for free.
4. He thinks Marilyn Manson is strange!!!!!!!
3. People who have never met him constantly
tell other people that Iggy Pop is only 5'1",
which is a lie - he's 5'8" or sumthin'.
2. There's no evidence that he ever had sex with
David Bowie.
1. He hated the punk scene.

Dressed Like a Superhero

According to Style.com, dressing like a superhero is one of the latest trends. I noticed this the other day when my daughter left for school dressed like Wonder Woman the punk.

At first I thought it was just this big belt trend that was reminiscent of super-style. Superheroes do like to wear a lot of belts, but then again so do champion weight lifters and wrestlers. What is this link between the belt and super human strength? But it's not just the belts. It's also the boots and the tights and the capes and the big jewelry.

I love Wonder Woman as much as the next girl, but I'm not ready to sport a tiara. Wonder Woman Understands.

Random Acts of Kindness

Sometimes when you are feeling down, doing kind things for others gives you just the lift you need. Here are a few things that I recommend you try out at home.

Give a lottery ticket to a stranger.

Send handmade cards or a letter to someone you care for.

When you go somewhere to get or do something, ask someone around you if you can pick up, drop off or do something for them while you do.

Put a comment on someone's webpage that you really like...... let them know you enjoy it.

Put something you no longer need on Craig's list free spot for your area.

Buy a phone card and give to a homeless shelter for them to give to someone or just give it to someone asking for change on the street. Lord knows there are enough people doing that here.

Invite someone who is alone over for dinner.

Put a quarter in a parking meter that has expired.

Write a note to the boss of someone who has helped you, praising the employee.

Make a point of introducing yourself to someone you see all of the time but never say hello to.

Offer to baby sit.

Write anonymous, loving post-its for strangers to find.

Greens Can't Participate in Leaders' Debates

It's possible that the network's decision to not allow the Green Party's Elizabeth May to participate in the Leader's Debates could be the best thing that has happened to the Green Party since... well... the carbon tax.

Seriously, look at the comments that follow the CBC article.

"So the broadcasters were stupid enough to believe that other parties would actually boycott the debates because the Green Party leader was in it? You must be terrible poker players, don't recognise an obvious bluff when you see it!

Guess who I'm voting for now!"

This will be better for the Green Party's popularity than former party leader Adrienne Carr's participation in the leader's debate. If no one had heard Carr speak, no one would have known what a twit she was.

May is effectively becoming a martyr through the decision to leave her out of the debate, in what a lot of people seem to b calling the death of Canadian democracy. I don't know if I would go so far as to call it that. The armchair voters in this country are really just being made a little more aware of the censorship that they face in making intelligent decisions.

It wouldn't be easy for me to sleep at night I worked for one of those networks.

Dances to the Beat of a Different Drum

A new study from Scotland has proved what I am sure most people felt they already knew - that musical tastes are in tune with who you are. According to the CBC, the study's most surprising finding was that heavy metal fans have more in common with classical music fans than anyone else.

Well, that's not all that surprising. Most metal heads have been saying for years that their music is as intricately complex as history's most revered concertos. Anyone who can make that kind of argument successfully has got to have something in common with classical music snobs.

The study's analysis of other types of music fans is more amusing though. And I quote:

"Jazz fans tend to be creative and outgoing, with high self-esteem, in keeping with the innovative and sociable nature of the music.

Country western fans were found to be hard-working, but introverted, fitting with the blue-collar image of country music.

The research concluded soul music lovers are a well-rounded bunch — creative, outgoing, gentle, at ease with themselves and with high self-esteem.

Rap fans are outgoing and far from gentle, while indie music lovers lack both self-esteem and the work ethic."

The problem that I see with all this is that not everyone likes just one type of music best. As Gordon Gano will tell you, some people like American music best. When people ask me what kind of music I like, I always say I like good music and not all the music of one particular genre is good.

But, as Gordon Gano says, "I like American music because it reminds me of me," and I don't always feel like listening to Indie or Rap. The music I put on reflects the mood I'm in and, right now, I feel like listening to the Violent Femmes.

U.S. Politics

Maybe I am just being a patriotic Canadian again, thinking about how much I prefer Canadian politics to U.S. practices, but I do. It just makes me sick to endlessly read about the families and religious views of American political candidates. What the hell does that have to do with how well they can do their job?

I don't care if Obama had a falling out with his preacher.

I actually don't care if Palin's teenage daughter is pregnant!

As vice-President will she be the mother of the nation or something and suddenly all of America's teenage daughter's will be just like Jamie Lynn Spears? If that's the case, the same logic would follow that Bristol Palin is pregnant because George W. Bush is a bad president.

If the American political machine could only stop smear campaigning and start making logical decisions, perhaps, they wouldn't have put certain people in office in the first place.

Fear of Commitment

Last night the guy-I-am-seeing called me his girlfriend and said we have a relationship. I asked him if he meant "relationship" in the broader sense of the word. He said, "No." I felt awkward.

This morning I felt good about it. I even changed my Facebook status to "in a relationship."

During lunch at work my roommate IMed me and told me what my Facebook status said and, internally, I freaked. I went straight to Facebook and switched it back.

I am not afraid of commitment. I took the quiz and was reassured that I am fine - not that it's a very extensive quiz, but I get right into personality profiling. I like how we all try to think of each other as "types." Apparently there are at least four types of people with fear of commitment issues.

1. The train wreck: someone who subconsciously always chooses people who will let them down, disappoint them, cheat, eat cookies in bed, and generally break their hearts.
2. The yo-yo: someone with an on and off again relationship, who basically just wants to have their cake and a little bit of everyone else's cake too.
3. Mr. or Miss Right: people who are just so bloody perfect themselves that they don't have time for those who sneeze in the same Kleenex twice.
4. The asshole: someone who finds a perfectly good mate and then crushes their self-esteem by finding fault in them and picking them apart.

Gawd, I am glad my last name is not Right.

Coffee

A good cup of coffee is as important as good sex. Seriously, it makes your day so much happier, you feel more energetic, you carry a sense of decadence and satisfaction around with you for hours afterwards, and the whole world just seems a little bit nicer.

Bad coffee is just crappy. It leaves a bad taste in your mouth and often gives you the runs, but there's more to it than that. As with sex, we all have our little preferences.

For me, the darkly roasted freshly ground beans matter - certainly, they do. BUT you take a perfectly brewed cup of Joe and add milk and I'll be thoroughly disappointed. Call me a coffee snob, but I won't be able to take more than three sips of the stuff. Coffee needs cream. Half & half cream works best and when you add it, it's all about the colour. I know my coffee has the right mixture of coffee and cream by the colour.

Sometimes, poorly brewed coffee needs more or less cream - that's how the colour test works. Sugar doesn't matter so much to me. I wanna see the cream, baby!

Summer is Over

I said it.

There's no denying it.

Summer is over. School starts tomorrow.

If the measure of a good summer is how ready you are to face the new season, my summer sucked. I can't deny it. I didn't get anything done this summer. I spent the whole season learning to walk again, but I think that the ability to walk on ones own two feet again is not something to shrug at.

And, in spite of the bitter pain, I managed to fall in love again. There! I said that too! I am crazy about someone and he's pretty crazy about me too.

I don't think that the two things are coincidental either. I injured myself pretty badly - slipped the 4th and 5th lumbars, broke the joint that connects my tail bone to my spine, and did some nerve damage to my right leg. Broken Cupcake did a lot of lying on the beach. Now, the summer is over and it's time to get down to some serious business - ideas for how to write that essay on what I did last summer (that's right, we're calling it last summer today because it's Labour Day - summer is gone and you're not allowed to wear white pants any more).

So what makes a good summer?

The weather? The weather is a false friend. It makes you believe whatever you want to believe. If you're happy and it's raining, the rain is cleansing. If you're sad, the rain is just fucking depressing.

Love is a good one, but if I go on about that at this point I will just be bragging.

Food and wine? I had some nice wines, but I can't say I ate a lot of good food that I enjoyed. BC wines are ridiculously scrumptious, but after spending a year in Montreal the food on the Left Coast just doesn't taste as sweet (and I don't like fish). However, now that Quebec cheese is poisonous, I shouldn't bitch about being in a place full of Blasted Church and Painted Turtle.

But it wasn't wine, it was love that made my summer good (ya, I snuck the elected in there. They're playing now on my iTunes).