Monday, August 30, 2004
Monday, August 23, 2004
on sotto voce grand mal
How do you thank the person who saves your life? How do you tell them, and what words do we have that truly express such a debt of gratitude...more>> http://grandmal.blogspot.com/2004/08/strange-love-journeys-as-cancer.html
also on blogcritics at http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/08/23/132232.php
Sunday, August 22, 2004
If you weren’t paying attention, you could easily have seen The Mothman Prophecies, and thought “interesting” and never thought about it again because you were expecting a more traditional “horror movie” or some such nonsense where a winged guy comes out of the woods all deranged and starts hacking up the locals. But that is not, anyway, what “Mothman” is about. It’s a film that on the surface anyway, doesn’t entirely bend to genre. Or you could have missed it entirely because a film about a moth, you thought, sounded really dull and boring. But it wasn’t about a moth per se either. So what is Mothman about? Ahhh, that’s where it gets interesting…more>>>http://grandmal.blogspot.com/2004/08/mothman-prophesize-this.html or >>>>>>http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/08/22/145141.php
This week, i've made the Leaderboard at our famous Cleveland Blogcritics, ran by our good and very dear Eric Olsen. Check out our latest news at http://blogcritics.org/leaderboard.php and be sure to check out Blogcritics over the next two days when yours truly is Blogcritic of the Day and on the Leaderboard. Check out Blogcritics every day, comment, join in. Go to http://blogcritics.org/ and join our sinister cabal of bloggers.
Saturday, August 21, 2004
Friday, August 20, 2004
i've also been watching one French film a night - so last night was The Lover, tonight Betty Blue, tomorrow Jules et Jim, and all of course, will be reviewed on www.blogcritics.org for anyone who is interested and cross-referenced here.
have to go now. must practice putting my lips in kissing position to get that fabulous "ewww" sound that sounds so very good when someone else does it. am determined. bonne nuit!
Yes, you got it. Tonight it is 37.2 le matin, or Betty Blue, among the best French films and certainly with the most realistic sex scenes and a highly compelling story of a woman's descent into madness that is realistic, involving, and incredibly sad. One of the great love stories of all time if you ask me... review to follow soon.
When I first saw Betty Blue, or as it was originally known, 37.2 le matin in French, I was so moved by Beatrice Dalle’s performance. It seemed to me that either she was one incredibly good actress to pull of such an incredibly diverse and complicated role, or that perhaps a part of her went into the performance. Whatever the case, I spent many months afterward thinking about the film and having to endure friends in college tell me how much I reminded them of Betty, which wasn’t an entirely good thing, but then, wasn’t an entirely bad thing.
I mean, let’s face it, she was incredibly beautiful, I reasoned, incredibly sexy and here’s my boyfriend saying I remind him of her, but at the same time, I knew that she was incredibly nuts. Maybe nuts isn’t a fair word, though throughout the film she is told “vous etes fou”. How else would one respond, after all, to the many things that Betty does that are just not done.more>>>> http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/08/21/122901.php
here is the link to my newest poems. i'm hard at work on my second collection and hope to find a publisher soon. meanwhile, the poems are upated very regulary, so you always have something new to read. also, i'm taking input on the name of the collection; i'm thinking either The Cabinetist or Grand Mal. If you have a preference, please mark it in the comments section. It would be great to get your input. Follow this link for the full book. more>>>>http://cabinetist.blogspot.com/
Thursday, August 19, 2004
check out our dinner party poems. take six random words, have everybody write a poem that uses every word. You can use the word as often as you like, but at least once - the poem can be about anything. check out our latest at http://dinnerpartypoems.blogspot.com/ Write, contribute, contact email@example.com.
The real John Nash, from the Nobel Museum Web site.
I keep watching the film A Beautiful Mind because I have this idea that to see it only once is to miss a great deal and would prevent any real understanding of The Great John Nash! It’s a phrase that is repeated often in the film – a film adapted from Nasar’s unauthorized biography, and it’s a phrase used by persons real and unreal and always mockingly.
The truth, the truth that would finally be acknowledged a great many years later in 1994, was that, in fact, John Nash is indeed great and a true genius. Winning the Noble Prize was simply the public acknowledgement of this and by then, no one was mocking John Nash anymore. It's hard to imagine though that anyone who took the time to know John Nash, could not see his brilliance, the beauty in the very way in which he thought. The film does convey this - that much one can say, but still, there is that underlying mockery and although this supposed to be, one gather's a "sympathetic" portrait, that's just it; it seems to look down on Nash, as though he were a child, incapable of taking care of himself and oh, gosh, thank god for Alicia, were it not for her, he'd never have achieved greatness. There's a real martyr thing going on here and at a price to John Nash.
I have to confess too, that part of my atttraction to the film is that all too often i've felt as i imagine Nash must have felt at times, because although the origin and cause are different, temporal lobe epilepsy can often make you "different" in ways that others cannot quite pinpoint. And although epilepsy is a neurological illness often caused by mesial lesions in the brain (such as I have), the effects are similar. More - when researching Nash for another article, I found a relation between Nash and my friend Ian, also a mathematician and also with roots in the South (suffice to say he not only resembles Nash, particularly in the ears, which i happen to like, but also in the way he thinks,) and so here I am, drawn in. More - click link http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/08/19/165922.php
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Sadi's article about surviving several bouts of malignant melanoma and the impact that the thinning of the ozone layer has on the skyrocketing increase in deaths from melanoma - one of the deadliest cancers there is. Check it out at the link below where you can purchase the magazine... If you are a melanoma survivor and would like a copy, please email me directly.
Over the past several years, I’ve started to notice this trend in films that features objects that could surely be called art. more>>>>http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/08/29/132721.php
read more of my work regularly at www.blogcritics.org by clicking on this link. write, post, join, but visit blogcritics often.more work by sadi ranson-polizzotti>>>>http://blogcritics.org/author.php?author=Sadi%20Ranson-Polizzotti
click below for poem in buzzwords, poetry, united kingdom.
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
Van Gogh said, “The more ill I become, the sicker I get, the more I wish to take my revenge by painting.”
I had a friend a few years ago who told me to read this "great book." It was called The Path of Least Resistance or something. And because I trusted this friend and knew him to be well-read, well-educated, and generally quite wise, I read the book. Now, years later, I can't comment on the book too much because after a few pages, it struck me as crap. I suppose the path of least resistance is a good idea in theory - the idea that you follow where life leads you and put up little resistance. Instead of fighting with obstacles, you simply ignore them or walk around them, which seems wise on the face of it, but I’m not sure it's the way to be...(more)http://pathofleastresistance.blogspot.com/
The semi-autobiographical work, The Lover, by Marguerite Duras, was almost not published in America. How typical, then, that years later, it remains one of the best selling books and became a widely viewed film all these years later. American publishing has largely overlooked foreign authors until they reach the pinnacle of their fame and are then picked up years later. The Lover and most of Duras’s work falls into this category, as do other books like Betty Blue and authors like Jean Echenoz, and so many others. (more) http://duras.blogspot.com/
Monday, August 16, 2004
her instinct is exacted.
she builds nests, fused
with the refuse of others
she who collects
horsehair, feathers, strands
of weathered tinsel, the silver
glints that catch the eye. Watch
how she leans, her curved
slope of breast against
the rough hewsn mud.
She spins quick circles
smoothing the black rough
to velvet soft, where eggs
blue and fragile will rest
in next bound of bound spit
with curves that match exact.
Sunday, August 15, 2004
Welcome to tant mieux
a cellphone & two laptops one woman on a mission
write watch record move softly write now welcome to tant mieux - sister site of sotto voce world sites
Sadi Ranson-Polizzotti has been published in many publications and books including Adagio Verse Quarterly where she am also an editor at large, Prism International, Ex Libris, Harvard Review, Red Cedar Review, Illuminations, The Boston Globe, Orion, Buzzwords UK, Adagio, Lit.org, and many others. Books include Eels, a novella, Biography & Source Studies, Vo. 5, Editor Fred Karl, First Fiction published by Macmillan and a Book of the Month Club selection and various anthologies.
I am presently working on several new books, some of the material for which appears on these sites. Be sure to see my column at the famous Cleveland Blogcritics and sottovoce and Lit.org
Friday, August 13, 2004
jazz swirling as she wiggles, winding
narrow hipped, bud of breast nipped
a fantastical jive...
We wait. This is what it has come down to. We are at a small baseball stadium somewhere south of Boston (Brockton; Campanelli Stadium). Usually, this is a local baseball field, but last weekend, the B-52s performed here, and tonight, so we hear, Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson will be performing. But that’s hours away, and I’m having trouble believing it’s really true. For now, it is us and a crowd that is growing considerably, winding our way around the stadium. Many people have brought chairs, picnic baskets, blankets etc. They hang out in groups, giving other people the eye-ball from beneath their leather hats. Those of us who came unprepared, sit on the hard dirt or cement, the unforgiving sun searing the skin, getting hotter and hotter and knowing what it must be like to be a hot dog or some kind of grilled food. Come to think of it, there is some weird funk in the air that smells a lot like grilled food, but I have this awful feeling that it is some collective BO from the sun, sweat, and frankly, what is an edgy and somewhat hostile crowd. It’s like an old photograph from the sixties – the women with their sort of blonde hair and leather hats and crochet tops; the men with knitted caps and tie-dyed shirts. Take that photograph and bump the contrast down and the brightness up so high that it is almost a white out: good. Now you begin to see the white heat of the sun. We wait here for hours. (more; click link) http://blogcritics.org/archives/2004/08/13/094138.php
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
And black licorice on her tongue.
A kite and conviction. She was paradise.
The corners of her plush territory cast
attractive shadows on her thigh.
My stamen knifed its cotton cage.
She was persimmon and luminous.
Pragmatic on the porch in Bakersfield.
Her intensities, punishment,
were smooth as sandalwood. (complete poem, click below...)
I came across a review that said, pithily, "The Ring will never be more than a pretty good movie." ...
http://www.buzzwords.ndo.co.uk/ranson/ranson.html buzzwords uk
http://cabinetist.blogspot.com/2004/08/necklace.html the cabinetist, collection of new & selected poems
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
level fields and books
I thought I’d never read.
I am sharing a subway car
with men at least twice
my age but with briefcases
at least twice as small
And me, I feel like the tallest-
short girl in the car who still young
has traveled into orbits I never
when I stared at the Parliament
blue sky from a London
Orbits, whole worlds, where I
can be a waif, or curvaceous in my
black tights, hips switching as
I walk from my sphere into yours.
I am a cat on the prowl, Pissing
and chewing and spitting out
your double-diplomas. Me —
the one you said never Could.
The one you said would be Plain
and the same and the same
as our Yorkshire cousins.
Pouring pints into half-wits
who’d father our children
and with a clip, Keep the Bitch in Line.
Well it’s high time now and my time now
and time and time again and Yet —
One person stops towing the family line
and that’s it: You are free as a sparrow
soaring on the first breath of Spring.