The Wilhelm Scream

Jealous of Creators

2011-05-28T13:37:00.000-07:00

Hello,

It's been a while since my last post. In fact, this blog wouldn't even exist had a kindly professor from Susquehanna University not insisted that I create a blog for a certain class.

So I was thinking about possible topics of conversation and I thought about a personal essay I wrote recently about backpacking. I feel often like I have no business in the wilderness, between towering trees or among the clouds. I had no hand in creating it; who am I to trespass there?

It's going to sound stupid, but I have the same feelings of shame and jealousy any time a piece of music moves me, whether it's a classical symphony or the latest progressive rock opus from a Dream Theater or a Porcupine Tree. Like standing atop a mountain and looking out on indescribable majesty, these notes, too, are something I've had no hand in arranging. It is not, and could never be, mine.

Some of us cleave to our music with something like rabid attachment, allowing ourselves feelings of pride for having discovered, second-hand, a thing created by another. We think that our taste is preternatural, more finely tuned than our peers' . That pride is unearned. The only sort of pride worth possessing in the world of the arts is that earned by a creator.

"Tweet" #41-51: Moby Dick Chapters 41-51

2009-10-28T16:44:00.000-07:00

Chapter 41:

Humorous: Moby-Dick never forgives, never forgets.

Serious: Captain Ahab is mad. He seems to have a sort of supernatural hold over his crew; his vengeful rage is completely theirs.

Chapter 42:

Humorous: Many things are white.

Serious: Many things are white.

Chapter 44:

Humorous: Patrick Stewart is losing his mind!

Serious: He who fights monsters should see to it that he does not become a monster himself.

Chapter 46:

Humorous: Whale: the other white meat.

Serious: Ahab's obsession will be the cause of a mutiny before long.

Chapter 48:

Humorous: Whoops!

Serious: The first landing was a fruitless, and worse, nearly fatal venture.

Chapter 49:

Humorous: What the fuck am I doing here?!

Serious: These recent events have thrown my decision to choose this way of life into doubt.

Chapter 50:

Humorous: I'll feel a good deal safer if Ahab's recklessness gets him killed.

Serious: Ahab is evidently fearless, impassioned and galvanized by his obsession to lead the chase in person.

Chapter 51:

Humorous: Moby's not the only Dick that likes to spout at midnight.

Serious: Even in sleep does Ahab keep himself fixed resolutely on his goals.

"Tweet" #37-40: Moby Dick Chapters 37-40

2009-10-26T17:06:00.001-07:00

Chapter 37:

Humorous: I'm CRAZY!

Serious: Don't call me crazy!

Chapter 38:

Humorous: Hmm. That's weird. I don't remember ever being able to read minds before now.

Serious: I fear my life has been commandeered by the ineffable missions of a madman.

Chapter 39:

Humorous: ...but why is the rum gone?!

Serious: We all of us have our superiors.

Chapter 40:

Humorous: Where's my tambourine?!

Serious: We've too much time on our hands.

"Tweet" 33-36: Moby Dick Chapters 33-36

2009-10-26T12:16:00.000-07:00

Chapter 33:

Humorous: What do you mean, 'story?' We'll get to that later. Maybe.

Serious: Time's passing has subtly altered the names and natures of the title on board whaling ships.

Chapter 34:

Humorous: Foodstuffs.

Serious: I recount the hierarchy onboard as it exists in the order in which the inhabitants of the Pequod sit down to eat dinner.

Chapter 35:

Humorous: Climb the Mast to find the Sperm.

Serious: One loses oneself on the mast-head, alone, apparently, with the ocean's infinity.

Chapter 36:

Humorous: Death to the huge, white Dick!

Serious: The engine of our journey is vengeance.

"Tweet" #31-32: Moby Dick Chapters 31-32

2009-10-25T13:37:00.001-07:00

Chapter 31:

Humorous: I dream of mermaids.

Serious: There truly is something amiss or otherwise curious about this old Captain Ahab.

Chapter 32:

Humorous: Whales are awesome.

Serious: Whales are fish.

"Tweet" #28-30: Moby Dick Chapters 28-30

2009-10-25T13:13:00.000-07:00

Chapter 28:

Humorous: Enter Patrick Stewart.

Serious: Captain Ahab has at last made himself known, bearing unmistakable authority even if it is not strictly, at present, necessary.

Chapter 29:

Humorous: Ahab is a badass after all.

Serious: Stubb has come afoul of the captain already, inciting a fury in Ahab.

Chapter 30:

Humorous: I don't love pipe.

Serious: Ahab's pipe, where once it gave him pleasure, now seems as like a fetter. He casts it into the waves, remarking at how his temperament must have changed to betray so fond a past-time.

"Tweet" #25-27: Moby Dick Chapters 25-27

2009-10-25T12:42:00.000-07:00

Chapter 25:

Humorous: I'm trying far too hard to impress you.

Serious: We whalers are the stewards of the royal fish - that majestic creature that supplies the royalty of the world with their coronation oil.

Chapter 26:

Humorous: I'm trying so hard not to imagine Katee Sackhoff.

Serious: We belong to a noble profession. Starbuck is proof of this - reverent even under the weight of terrors.

Chapter 27:

Humorous: So many majestic, burly men!

Serious: I have introduced the Pequod's three mates, as different in appearance as in disposition.

"Tweet" #22-24: Moby Dick Chapters 22-24

2009-10-25T11:59:00.000-07:00

Chapter 22:

Humorous: Pitching a tent on-deck.

Serious: And so the great journey began, with Captain Ahab yet unseen below in his quarters.

Chapter 23:

Humorous: You gonna die!

Serious: Bulkington's fate is sealed.

Chapter 24:

Humorous: I love whaling.

Serious: I love whaling.

"Tweet" #17-21: Moby Dick Chapters 17-21

2009-10-21T17:24:00.000-07:00

Chapter 17:

Humorous: I don’t remember paying a security deposit, so why not? Fetch me an axe!

Serious: Observing his “Ramadan,” Queequeg makes us all worry by locking himself in our room all day and all night. Despite my openness to religion, I urged him not to observe any harmful rites.

Chapter 18:

Humorous: Boy sure do have a pretty harpoon.

Serious: Queequeg has made quite an impression on Captain Peleg, and has been given the ninetieth lay on the Pequod.

Chapter 19:

Humorous: Bah, humbug!

Serious: A strange and prophetic man accosted Queequeg and I and warned us about our Captain Ahab. I bid him be gone – he surely was mad.

Chapter 20:

Humorous: Don’t forget to pack a change of under-britches.

Serious: There were many preparations to be made aboard the Pequod before it could sail. Still I saw no sign of Captain Ahab.

Chapter 21:

Humorous: My, but the rigger has a firm buttocks.

Serious: Elijah has once more warned us mysteriously about our impending journey. I will take no heed of him and board the Pequod straight away.

"Tweet" #14-16: Moby Dick Chapters 14-16

2009-10-21T13:25:00.001-07:00

Chapter 14:

Humorous: There once was a man from Nantucket…

Serious: From such inauspicious beginnings have the Nantucketers come, to create such a reputation and a name for themselves.

Chapter 15:

Humorous: I love chowder.

Serious: I love chowder.

Chapter 16:

Humorous: Gonna get “layed!”

Serious: I found a boat, the Pequod, that I think will please Yojo. By all accounts, the captain of the ship, a Captain Ahab, is a strange and wonderful man. I look forward to meeting him.

"Tweet" #11-13: Moby Dick Chapters 11-13

2009-10-20T14:48:00.000-07:00

Chapter 11:

Humorous: Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’

Serious: I have found in Queequeg a steadfast and loyal friend. We enjoyed each others’ presence so entirely that we neglected sleep and stayed up instead the better to converse.

Chapter 12:

Humorous: Carry On My Wayward Son

Serious: Queequeg tells me his life’s story, and about how he came to be a harpooneer. I will match the loyalty he shows me as he tries to exist in both worlds.

Chapter 13:

Humorous: We tossed around our carpet-bags in the wheelbarrow for a bit.

Serious: Queequeg discourages a youngster from mocking him. When the same young man is thrown overboard, Queequeg dives in after him, and is thanked by all onboard.

"Tweet" #5-10: Moby Dick Chapters 5-10

2009-10-20T14:35:00.000-07:00

Chapter 5:

Humorous: By the Gods, how I do love to watch Queequeg eat. Boy sure does have a pretty mouth.

Serious: It was remarkable how these seasoned veterans took on a kind of look of shame as they sat down to eat at the communal table.

Chapter 6:

Humorous: Hmmm. Nice town. Now where did my carpet-bag get to?

Serious: It was foolish to think Queequeg out-of-place in such a town as this. There are colorful folk everywhere. The women too are a sight to see.

Chapter 7:

Humorous: Queequeg is always sneaking up behind me. And in a church this time, too!

Serious: We humans do not see clearly these things we call life and death. We are too lowly to behold the truth of such matters.

Chapter 8:

Humorous: I love pulpit.

Serious: The pulpit is the foremost part of the world, as though it was a prow on our vast earthly vessel.

Chapter 9:

Humorous: Dammit. Every Sunday with the Jonah story! Doesn’t he know any other sermons?

Serious: The preacher spoke of the plight of Jonah. We cannot run from God any more than we can deny our natures as sinners.

Chapter 10:

Humorous: Queequeg = George Washington. Can’t wait to check out his wooden teeth.

Serious: I have found Christian friendship to be empty and boring. Despite my misgivings, I will try to befriend this savage, although we have so little in common.

"Tweet" #4: Moby Dick Chapter 4

2009-10-20T13:53:00.000-07:00

Chapter 4:

Humorous: I awoke with his arm wrapped tenderly around my carpet-bag. Ever so slowly, the details from last night came creeping back into my mind.

Serious: Queequeg and I woke from a good night's sleep and set to getting dressed.

"Tweet" #1-3: Moby Dick Chapters 1-3

2009-10-20T13:32:00.000-07:00

Chapter 1:

Humorous: Boats and hoes!

Serious: My name is Ishmael, and I am a sailor by trade. I grow restless on land from time to time, and decide to take to the sea, where I feel more at home.

Chapter 2:

Humorous: I have a bitchin' carpet-bag. I put shirts in it so I don't have to walk around naked in the cold. Also, I'm too Goddamned cheap to spring for a decent hotel.

Serious: I packed my things in my carpet-bag and set out into the town in search of lodging. I wanted a place of comfort that would not cost too much.

Chapter 3:

Humorous: I'm far too insecure in my sexuality. Do you think the harpooneer will like my carpet-bag?

Serious: I found a place of lodging that was to my liking, but the only bunk available was with a strange man named Queequeg. After I got to know him, he was an agreeable sort.

Forms of Writing: Footnotes

2009-09-19T12:22:00.000-07:00

(*#) denotes a footnote, since I have no idea how to do superscripts in Blogger. The following is an excerpt from my screenplay, entitled Artist Unknown. The screenplay formatting was lost somewhat in translation.

INT. JACOB’S PUB (*1) - DUSK

It is dark inside, lit only by suspended lights that hang above each table. The walls, like those in the apartment building, are devoid of decoration. The paint is peeling and water stains are scattered about on the ceiling.

Harvey walks through clouds of cigarette (*2) smoke and chooses a stool at the bar. JACOB FREEMAN, the bartender, approaches him. He is a few years younger than Harvey, but is thicker about the neck and the middle. He is balding but not bald.

JACOB

Have you come to feed the monkey (*3)?

Harvey glances around the bar as he reaches inside his jacket for a cigarette and lights it. Jacob slides a beer towards him. By now, he doesn’t even need to ask what kind.

HARVEY

Just for tonight, you know? Gotta cut back, right? Shit’s no good for you. (under his breath) Dime bag (*4), like I asked?

Jacob nods as he lifts a bowl of peanuts from behind the bar, shoving it towards Harvey. Harvey digs in the peanuts, pulls out a small plastic bag and places it carefully in an interior pocket of his coat.

JACOB

Enjoy.

Harvey just nods sadly, as though admitting some great, secret weakness to no one but himself.

HARVEY

How’re things?

JACOB

I could ask you the same thing, from the look of it...

Jacob is looking past Harvey at one of the bar’s many televisions, his eyes wide. Harvey turns to look.

T.V. REPORTER (*5)

...Submitted by a viewer earlier this evening. You won’t believe what you’re about to see.

Harvey watches, as the jerky camera footage pans over the Addison statue, crumbled on the sidewalk. The footage jumps forward to Harvey being held back by the police officer, then again to him walking back towards the apartment, the statue’s HEAD in his hands.

JACOB (laughing)

You shoved the lieutenant governor out a window?

HARVEY (smiling as he takes a drink of his beer)

Had it coming. I guess I can kiss my fucking security deposit (*6) goodbye, though, huh?

T.V. REPORTER

...Can imagine, this footage has caused quite a stir. Cohen has faded from public view lately, along with many of his peers in the art community, leading some to believe that he’s simply chosen to focus on his teaching position at New York University. The statue for the new wing of the Addison Library was his first project in quite some time that has caught the public’s attention.

Harvey shakes his head, smiling. A few of the bar’s patrons turn to look at him. Harvey smiles, but ignores them.

T.V. REPORTER (cont’d)

I’m here with Ryan Addison, lieutenant governor of New York, who commissioned the statue for the new library wing that he has generously helped to fund. What do you think of this, Mr. Addison? Is it made particularly personal since it’s your very likeness that he’s destroyed?

RYAN ADDISON (a veritable portrait of smugness)

Yes, of course it is. It’s just absurd. I wanted Mr. Cohen to feel as though the State was embracing him and his trade; he hasn’t gotten a commission in years. He says he wants to keep art alive, you know, and I was happy to back his enthusiasm. But if he wants to prove to the world that he's self-absorbed, then succeeded admirably. The city can get by without his art if he can get by without our money. Simple as that.

T.V. REPORTER

Thank you for your time. Well, there you have it. For Channel 7 News at 8, I’m James Spatola. We’ll see you again next hour.

Harvey turns from the T.V. to face Jacob, whose laughter has become a wheeze.

HARVEY

Didn’t take ’em long. Guess I’m a celebrity again, huh?

After collecting himself, Jacob pours a beer for a man down the bar from them, and faces Harvey once more.

JACOB

What the hell happened?

HARVEY

So the guy wants me to do a sculpture of him, right? He donates a couple of bucks to the library, and insists that they have his statue in there to greet all the young minds. Goddamn thing nearly woulda cost the taxpayers more than what he donated in the first place. Yeah. taxpayers were gonna be the ones to finance this guy’s vanity. But it’s kinda weird, right? Don’t remember the last time anyone wanted a statue done. So anyway, the guy comes to me.

JACOB

And you told him to piss off, then? Just like you, man. That’s Harvey.

HARVEY

I won’t make exceptions just on his say-so. There’s a system, see?

JACOB

There’s hardly any commissions anywhere, man. You couldn’t give him what he wanted? Do you want to keep doing what you’re doing, or do you want to BE somebody?

HARVEY (shaking his head)

Not if it means lying. Lying I won’t do. I’ll make him a sculpture, but I won’t make him something he isn’t. I thought you knew me by now.

JACOB

So what if he wants to be larger than life? Don’t you?

HARVEY

No! Don’t ever compare. Don’t. He wanted us to think he was a god, right? More important. (beat.) I don’t get off to that. Not ever. I just want respect for what I am. (beat.) Don’t need a monument. Don’t need worship. This guy... it’s the worship he’s after.

JACOB

So... what? He didn’t like it?

HARVEY

Liked it just fine. Problem for was he wanted to be taller than really was. Like he hasn’t done enough of that already, right?

A moment of silence passes while Harvey takes another sip of beer.

JACOB

So... what now? Do you even know any artists around these days that’ll give him what he wants?

HARVEY

Not so many, no. All doing other things now. Art is dead, right? That’s what they say.

Jacob turns to point at a framed picture above the bar. It is one of Harvey’s: an early painting of a beautiful, naked woman with chestnut brown hair.

JACOB

No. Not dead just yet. I still keep it around, you know, so maybe it’ll rub off. Get the gears turning again. (speaking slowly and cautiously now) And, you know... because I know you like seeing her. It’s been years...

HARVEY (interrupting)

You know I never liked her hanging up there. (beat.) Besides, people are dead to it now. They’ll look at that picture and just see a naked woman. Just body parts for their pleasure, right?

They won’t see the effort that it took. They won’t see the months of care and love it took to tear a woman from the world and place her warm body, heart still beating, on a canvas.

Harvey takes a long drink before continuing with anger trembling in his voice.

HARVEY

They won’t know how it came to be that a woman dead fourteen years can still live on... on the wall of a fucking dive like this.

Footnotes:

(*1) A "pub" was a communal area found in most towns or small communities designed for the consumption of alcohol (a favored type of narcotic) in often excessive amounts. Public exhibitions of strength were not uncommon among the male members of the population, often in attempts to impress the female patrons.

(*2) Cigarettes were once a common form of diversion or stress relief. Before they were banned by a Democratic regime in the early 2000's, along with firearms and Conservative talk radio, they were widely available in public marketplaces. They now are traded widely in underground black markets.

(*3) A phrase once used to refer to the indulgence in a habit or vice that the individual acknowledged as problematic but cannot resist.

(*4) An amount of marijuana that could be purchased for approximately $10USD in the early 2000's.

(*5) A "TV Reporter" was a person who was responsible for reporting and discussing the news on television, often several hours after the incident had taken place.

(*6) Security deposits were once required by landlords upon the arrival of a new tenant, and were used to repair any damage inflicted upon the rented space. If no damage occurred, the deposit would be returned to the tenant upon their departure.

Tuesday's journal entries

2009-09-10T18:03:00.000-07:00

Entry 1

Is this the one whom the others praise and ask for guidance? How is it that he lived all this time in such close proximity but never made himself known? He kills with a mere thought. He is clearly possessed of the wrath of a god, but has mercifully stayed his hand and spared my life. How is it that he sees fit to end the lives of my captors but spared me mine? How have I come to be in his favor? I will endeavor to prove my usefulness and my loyalty in his good graces.

Entry 2

My saving master has kept me safe in one of his dwellings these several days. He feeds me and waters me and shows me many kindnesses. I believe he is pleased with my and with my helpfulness. I hope I can continue to be of service to him.

Entry 3

I believe that my master is much pleased with what I have helped him accomplish. He takes me at his side when he goes abroad into the island and entrusts me with his weapons. I myself have taken in my turn the lives of many animals as he has directed.

Entry 4

My master is no god, as I until now believed. He is a man, like me, though of a different sort, possessed of much wonderful knowledge and terrible power. No, my master speaks of another, above even he, a one he calls "God" and by no other name. This God, he says, is the savior of mankind entire and sovereign over all the world and not over mere an island nor over a single man solitary. This God, he says, surrendered his very only son into the clutches of the evil ones and by some miracle forgave the world its many countless transgressions. I do not understand such matters and I wonder how this God looks upon those unhappy many that have lived outside his shadow and have known not his name.

Forms of Writing: Emulating Defoe's language

2009-09-08T19:25:00.000-07:00

My bookshelves are lined with the many luminous treasures that serve as mementos from days and perhaps eras long past. There are empty cans, their labels removed to reveal their ribbed steel skins polished clear and bright with silver polish that I wish sometimes was gold. Beside these are a collection of rings from a journey to Mexico I made at the age of five. As tokens of my lust for treasure, joining with these on the shelf are many crude pictures of jewelry which I went to great lengths to draw freehand. I have too one of the good spoons from the sterling silver my grandmother imparted to my mother and father upon their marriage. My mother finds these frightfully unappealing. Completing my modest collection is a set of coins: nickels, dimes and quarters; each of these I also have polished and set to gleaming with silver polish as I watched wistfully from my window the ships as they come and go across that distant horizon.