U Got Urself A Gun
Our godfather Jack was rolling on the ground like he was in the wild, wild west. Shooting his .357 at a leftover piling. And, oh, how he was proud of his shots. But we had no idea what we were watching. Meanwhile, Walter the dog was in the Land Cruiser and honking the horn, thoroughly confused by the car’s early 80s beeping horn: Meeep, Meeeep. So what does this have to do with Tuesday’s Literary Briefing? We’re coming at you guns blazing, horns blasting, that’s what. Get out of DSM’s way because we’re smashmouthing you, three yards and a cloud of dust. Did ya catch on yet? Henry Miller is getting us started. And Columbo is right behind, pistols primed. Hell yeah, Sofia Tolstoy was tough. But are you looking to talk, punk? Are you? If so you’ll want to hit up Dialogue: The Relationships of Design. And then visit Woody Allen. Ahh Woody, always a tough character…Hands up! – Andrew Geer
– On Henry Miller’s first evening in Hollywood in the summer of 1941, he arrived at the home of a millionaire in a “handsome black Packard,” having accepted a dinner invitation from a complete stranger. He did not know his host’s name, nor did he ever find it out. He would later write of the soirée, “The first thing which struck me, on being introduced all around, was that I was in the presence of wealthy people, people who were bored to death and who were all, including the octogenarians, already three sheets to the wind.” The dinner party went downhill from there, but Miller was nonetheless initially enthralled by the town in which “everyone thought he was a marvel.” — Henry Miller in The Rumpus
Columbo Seems To Be Getting Laid
– In the mid-sixties I worked as a press rep for CBS-TV in New York. Though low on a steep vertical hierarchy, I felt I had the kind of dream job I’d seen in movies like The Hucksters and Sabrina — an office (windowless) in the CBS building on Sixth Avenue, a good salary at a time when a floor through apartment on a nice street in Greenwich Village cost me $125 a month, and a charge account at Brooks Brothers that I worked like a farmer works good black loam. — Owen Edwards in Observatory
– For Leo Tolstoy and his extended household, diaries were an early version of Facebook. Everyone had his or her own page, and most people were fanatical recorders of their own feelings. The great man himself kept voluminous diaries, making entries almost to the day of his death. His doctor, his secretary, his disciples, his children, and – most of all – his wife also kept journals. Of these, the greatest diarist of them all was Sofia, the Countess Tolstoy. — Sofia Tolstoy in The Guardian
4 Way Dialogue
– Sharing a topic of many of my recent, focused discussions (yes, offline discussions), it was a pleasant surprise to happen upon Dialogue. The premise, as the subtitle reveals, is covering the varying relationships that make up the interactions of contemporary design practice. The back cover teases with a promise of “in-depth analysis of key projects.” — Dialogue in Under Consideration
– In our brave new world of psychopharmacology, it was bound to happen. The familiar film persona of Woody Allen now faces a credibility problem. These days, the “Woody Allen character” — misanthropic, pessimistic, alienated, morose — would likely be diagnosed as clinically depressed and successfully treated with anti-depressants. — Woody Allen in The Washington Times
Video: Woody Allen on Psychoanalysis
