May. 22nd, 2014

These Eyes

May. 22nd, 2014 09:18 am
monk111: (Default)
My eyes have slipped another notch. Now I need to zoom the computer screen to 150% in order to make sure I have my HTML right. It is tough to see all those tiny brackets and dashes and dots and such.

Coco

May. 22nd, 2014 10:17 am
monk111: (Cats)
Coco came in the house this morning for a while and played with me. A pleasant surprise. Since the last rain, the cats have not come inside the house at all, and I have indulged them, bringing their plate of food to the patio. I despair a little of getting them indoors again. Though, they spend over 90% of the day dozing on the patio, so that I cannot fault them, especially on these cool springish mornings filled with loving breezes. But hard summer is coming. And I do have to mow.
monk111: (Default)
When it came to modernist discontent with cinema, some critics felt that the line was really crossed when movies became ‘talkies’, as though it vulgarized the legitimate art form of moving pictures.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

“I shall never speak in a film. I hate the talkies and will not produce talking films. The American industry is transformed. So much the better or worse, it leaves me indifferent. I cannot conceive of my films as other than silent. My shadow appears on the screen as in a dream, and dreams do not speak.”

-- Charlie Chaplin

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

[Source: Laura Frost, “The Problem with Pleasure: Modernism and Its Discontents”]
monk111: (Cats)
I was happily surprised when Ash came inside the house this evening followed by Sammy. Maybe the weather spooked them. It has me a little spooked. The winds are kicking up hard. There’s some talk of a chance of thunderstorms overnight, but nobody is giving it big odds, and I wouldn’t bet on it myself. However, I am happy to keep the cats inside, so that I can mow tomorrow morning, provided that we do not get a heavy rain. As for Coco, she came inside readily enough when she made it back to the patio a little later. Maybe the cats would bet on that storm. They seem to sense something wicked coming this way.
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