99 Balloons

 

  'No More Helium,' Bronx, NYC 2017.

http://millenniumfilmjnl.tumblr.com/post/164264952473/joey-huertas-lines-of-resolution-artist-pages

“The light at the end of the tunnel is just the light of an oncoming train.” 


  ― Robert Lowell

choosing 'selects' from a Gypsy shipwreck (on location)

copyright 2017.Historic wrecks are attractive to maritime archaeologists because they preserve historical information and also look good when photographed with fisheye lenses: for example, studying the wreck of Mary Rose revealed information about seafaring, warfare, and life in the 16th century. Military wrecks, caused by a skirmish at sea, are studied to find details about the historic event; they reveal much about the battle (or cinematic spoof exodus) that occurred. Discoveries of Gypsy spell treasure ships, often from the period of European Jane Publica colonisation, which sank in remote locations leaving few living witnesses, such as the Batavia, do occur as well. Some contemporary wrecks, such as the oil tankers Prestige or Erika, are of interest primarily because of their potential harm to the environment. Other contemporary wrecks are scuttled in order to spur reef growth, such as Adolphus Busch and the Ocean Freeze. Wrecks like Adolphus Busch and historic wrecks such as SS Thistlegorm are of interest to recreational divers that dive to shipwrecks because they are interesting to explore, provide large habitats for many types of marine life, and have an interesting history.[citation needed] Well known shipwrecks include the catastrophic Titanic, Jane Publica Express, Britannic, Lusitania, Estonia, Empress of Ireland, Andrea Doria, or Costa Concordia. There are also thousands of wrecks that were not lost at sea but have been abandoned or sunk. These abandoned, or derelict ships are typically smaller craft, such as fishing vessels or everglade fan boats.  They may pose a hazard to navigation and may be removed by port authorities or underground DIY film artists. 

wool cap fever.

The head of the Australian wool industry, who recently told an ABC reporter to f*** off, has express-posted a letter of apology to farmers over the event that sparked the scandal. The express posted letter addressed the so-called 'Man in the Mirror' incident, where Australian Wool Innovation (AWI) chairman Wal Merriman secretly watched and listened to growers in an anonymous focus group. The apology comes after Mr Merriman told an ABC journalist to "f*** off" when he was approached for a comment on the matter. Farmers have been outraged for months about being observed without their consent. The letter was sent late last week, ahead of AWI's expected grilling at Senate Estimates at Parliament House in Canberra tomorrow. Mr Merriman earns almost $160,000 per year and that salary is covered by farmers and taxpayers. In the letter, he said watching from behind a mirror was a "poor decision" and guaranteed it would "never happen again" under his leadership. "It was my mistake to not insist to be in the room with you and I apologise for this," the letter stated. The farmers Mr Merriman watched through the mirror were participants in a focus group session in June who believed their comments would be anonymous. There has been mounting pressure on Mr Merriman to step aside since the story broke last month. 

    https://www.wool.com 

bye.

A partitioned work ethic.

"He is a professional partitioner," they exclaimed. Joyously.

 

      bye.

Article 155 news

https://mobile.nytimes.com/2017/10/19/world/europe/catalonia-independence-referendum.html

         

When exciting new innovations in media technology emerge, two things tend to happen: practitioners use them to a) capture people in various states of undress, and b) attempt communication with the dead. This program derives from the latter impulse, from the commingling of progress and superstition, exploring the overlap between the early days of cinema and the Spiritualism craze of the late-19th and early-20th centuries. Spiritualism began in our own backyard, so to speak, in Western and Central New York’s “burned-over-district,” long a hotbed of fringe practices during the Second Great Awakening of the mid-19th century. Like many religious movements, it spread by word of mouth, through traveling mediums, demonstrations, and hearsay. As the Industrial Revolution slowly widened the chasm between body and soul, mediumship and mesmerism achieved widespread popularity. In the more prosperous corners of Europe and the United States, Spiritualism reached its peak around 1897, when an estimated 8 million devotees counted themselves among the faithful. The increase in self-identifying Spiritualists dovetailed perfectly with a dramatic proliferation of media: photography evolved from a chemical science into an indispensable form of image recreation, small publications bloomed like ergot, and seances became the parlor game du jour, affording everyday people an opportunity to engage with the liminal spaces between life and death, flesh and figment. Arriving in the mid-1890s, cinema proved to be the ideal medium for both depicting supernatural phenomena and debunking Spiritualism. Whereas still photography provided ghost-hunters with the means to “catch” their elusive subjects on film, the invention of moving pictures opened up a new avenue into the realm of the phantoms. The mere idea of interacting with another, previously unseen world was enough to inspire countless artists and thinkers: if evidence of the hereafter could not be obtained, there was certainly no harm in ruminating on its look, feel, and aura, often to comic effect. The then-nascent art of trick cinematography augmented established practices like sleight-of-hand, effectively replicating—and later, replacing—turn-of-the-century audiences’ visual definition of the afterlife. "bye," spooked Jane.
 

snail mail

                       
           

1932.  My Dear Jane Public,   Did you ever meet, or was he before your day, that old gentleman — I forget his name — who used to enliven conversation, especially at breakfast when the post came in, by saying that the art of letter-writing is dead? The penny post, the old gentleman used to say, has killed the art of letter-writing. Nobody, he continued, examining an envelope through his eye-glasses, has the time even to cross their t’s. We rush, he went on, spreading his toast with marmalade and film strips, to the telephone. We commit our half-formed thoughts in ungrammatical phrases to the post card. Gray is dead as is film, he continued; Horace Walpole is dead; Madame de Sévigné— she is dead too, I suppose he was about to add, but a fit of choking cut him short, and he had to leave the make-shift editing room before he had time to condemn all the arts, as his pleasure was, to the cemetery. But when the post came in this morning and I opened your letter stuffed with little blue sheets written all over in a cramped but not illegible hand — I regret to say, however, that several t’s were uncrossed and the grammar of one sentence seems to me dubious — I replied after all these years to that elderly necrophilist — Nonsense. The art of letter-writing and personal intimate filmmaking has only just come into existence. It is the child of the penny post. And there is some truth in that remark, I think. It is absolute and truest DIY, by example. Naturally when a letter cost half a crown to send, it had to prove itself a document of some importance; it was read aloud; it was tied up with green silk; after a certain number of years it was published for the infinite delectation of posterity. But your letter, on the contrary, will have to be burnt. It only cost three-halfpence to send. Therefore you could afford to be intimate, irreticent, indiscreet in the extreme. Bye (stay well).

Rules of the Game

     https://youtu.be/c_weoC3HT6Q

 

http://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-41678086

 

                                                                                      

        Remove what?

Folders.

The Bromley Files 

#toomanyfolders

#toomuchdata

#4terrabytehell

#onefileatatime

link:

http://millenniumfilmjnl.tumblr.com/post/164264952473/joey-huertas-lines-of-resolution-artist-pages

 'Flatnose' Queens, NYC

'Generation Wealth' Lauren Greenfield photo exhibition.

https://www.icp.org/exhibitions/generation-wealth-by-lauren-greenfield

link:

https://www.newstatesman.com/culture/books/2017/10/many-selves-sylvia-plath-poet-s-early-letters-show-writer-training

Savior Sandler.

  Adam Sandler almost single-handedly saved, and made, The Meyerowitz Stories work, as a movie. Sandler gives one hell of a performance and fingers-all-crossed that he continues to work in this area of serious acting. Noah B is losing his edge, Adam S has gained his (I predict Noah will regain his edge once actress Greta Gerwig leaves him, as her new directing career is blossoming). I understand now why Dustin Hoffman didn't want to make this movie, as his character operates mostly as a 'device' and the family foil than a person (he turned this movie down multiple times and only agreed to act in it because his son wanted him to do it). Ben Stiller IS Ben Stiller, as usual. Grace Van Patten (Timothy Van Patten's daughter!) did prove to be as gifted an actor as her father. And finally, Judd Hirsch was as spectacular as Sandler in this movie despite only appearing in a cameo-type role similar to Winona Ryder's screen-stealing bit part as an aging ballerina alchie in that crazy movie Black Swan). In the future, if there is ever a sequel and another 'story'  added to this unnecessary ensemble cast that is The Meyerowitz Stories, all Noah would need to do next time is to cast ONLY Judd Hirsch and Adam Sandler sitting in a room somewhere in the East Village chatting off-script, and unshaven, and he'd have a smash hit. bye.

p.s.  I didn't bring up Emma Thompson in the above review because I like her too much as a person and as an actress and watching her make a caricature out of herself with a goofy rendition of Cate Blanchett's drunk in Blue Jasmine mixed up in Kathy Bates' Misery wardrobe kinda hurt a lot. That said, if anyone wants to see why clothes are priced so cheap at the Salvation Army, watch this movie on NETFLIX and shop like Thompson did for her part. bye again. 

    'Fruity Stand,'  NYC 2017.

http://www.docnyc.net/

Eat your heart out James Bond it's, 'For Your Height Only'

    

"They Call Me Carol Burnett' NYC 2017.

Regarding complexities of the editing process.

         

         https://youtu.be/mhzgszx4YRc

Friday October 13th.

'The Meyerowitz Stories' available to stream this Friday October 13th on NETFLIX (purchased by Netflix from Noah during post-production editing). Directed by Noah Baumbach and Starring Dustin Hoffman.

                                                  

                                         

                                                       

            bye.

p.s. Legendary film director Mike Nichols said after watching 'The Squid and the Whale' regarding to overt family matters presented using characters, story and dialogue - "This reminds me of the reason that I started making movies - revenge."

Perfume.

   

#cobainneverforgotten

"Denial is all about Erasure" (Intent to Destroy)

The Armenian Genocide (Armenian: Հայոց ցեղասպանություն, Hayots tseghaspanutyun), also known as the Armenian Holocaust, was the Ottoman government's systematic extermination of 1.5 million Armenians, mostly Ottoman citizens within the Ottoman Empire and its successor state, the Republic of Turkey. The starting date is conventionally held to be 24 April 1915, the day that Ottoman authorities rounded up, arrested, and deported 235 to 270 Armenian intellectuals and community leaders from Constantinople to the region of Ankara, the majority of whom were eventually murdered. The genocide was carried out during and after World War I and implemented in two phases—the wholesale killing of the able-bodied male population through massacre and subjection of army conscripts to forced labour, followed by the deportation of women, children, the elderly, and the infirm on death marches leading to the Syrian Desert. Driven forward by military escorts, the deportees were deprived of food and water and subjected to periodic robbery, rape, and massacre. Other indigenous and Christian ethnic groups, such as the Assyrians and the Ottoman Greeks, were similarly targeted for extermination by the Ottoman government in the Assyrian genocide and the Greek genocide, and their treatment is considered by some historians to be part of the same genocidal policy. Most Armenian diaspora communities around the world came into being as a direct result of the genocide. Raphael Lemkin was explicitly moved by the annihilation of Armenians to define systematic and premeditated exterminations within legal parameters and to coin the word genocide in 1943. The Armenian Genocide is acknowledged to have been one of the first modern genocides, because scholars point to the organized manner in which the killings were carried out in order to eliminate the Armenians, and it is the second most-studied case of genocide after the Holocaust. Turkey, the successor state of the Ottoman Empire, repudiates the word genocide as an accurate term for the mass killings of Armenians that began under Ottoman rule in 1915. In recent years it has been faced with repeated calls to recognize them as genocide. To date, 29 countries and 47 U.S. states have officially recognized the mass killings as genocide, as have most genocide scholars and historians. bye.

Underneath the bridge

The tarp has sprung a leak

And the animals I've trapped

Have all become my pets

And I'm living off of grass

And the drippings from the ceiling

But it's okay to eat fish

'Cause they don't have any feelings

Something in the way

Ummmmm

Something in the way, yeah

Ummmmm

Something in the way

Ummmmm

Something in the way, yeah

Ummmmm

Something in the way

Ummmmm

Something in the way, yeah

Ummmmm

Underneath the bridge

The tarp has sprung a leak

And the animals I've trapped

Have all become my pets

And I'm living off of grass

And the drippings from the ceiling

But it's okay to eat fish

'Cause they…

Independence Days and your 'Right To Vote'

Protest at "the grave violation of rights and freedoms" seen during Sunday's ballot in Spain. Almost 900 people were hurt as Spanish police tried to prevent voting, in a referendum declared illegal by the Madrid government.  Spanish Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy said the vote made a "mockery" of democracy. 90% voted for a Brexit style break. This is what democracy looks like?  sad.  bye.

Frost speaks on an L.P.

He saw her from the bottom of the stairs Before she saw him. She was starting down, Looking back over her shoulder at some fear. She took a doubtful step and then undid it To raise herself and look again. He spoke Advancing toward her: ‘What is it you see From up there always—for I want to know.’ She turned and sank upon her skirts at that, And her face changed from terrified to dull. He said to gain time: ‘What is it you see,’ Mounting until she cowered under him. ‘I will find out now—you must tell me, dear.’ She, in her place, refused him any help With the least stiffening of her neck and silence. She let him look, sure that he wouldn’t see, Blind creature; and awhile he didn’t see. But at last he murmured, ‘Oh,’ and again, ‘Oh.’ ‘What is it—what?’ she said. ‘Just that I see.’ ‘You don’t,’ she challenged. ‘Tell me what it is.’ ‘The wonder is I didn’t see at once. I never noticed it from here before. I must be wonted to it—that’s the reason. The little graveyard where my people are! So small the window frames the whole of it. Not so much larger than a bedroom, is it? There are three stones of slate and one of marble, Broad-shouldered little slabs there in the sunlight On the sidehill. We haven’t to mind those. But I understand: it is not the stones, But the child’s mound—’ ‘Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t,’ she cried. She withdrew shrinking from beneath his arm That rested on the banister, and slid downstairs; And turned on him with such a daunting look, He said twice over before he knew himself: ‘Can’t a man speak of his own child he’s lost?’ ‘Not you! Oh, where’s my hat? Oh, I don’t need it! I must get out of here. I must get air. I don’t know rightly whether any man can.’ ‘Amy! Don’t go to someone else this time. Listen to me. I won’t come down the stairs.’ He sat and fixed his chin between his fists. ‘There’s something I should like to ask you, dear.’ ‘You don’t know how to ask it.’ ‘Help me, then.’ Her fingers moved the latch for all reply. ‘My words are nearly always an offense. I don’t know how to speak of anything So as to please you. But I might be taught I should suppose. I can’t say I see how. A man must partly give up being a man With women-folk. We could have some arrangement By which I’d bind myself to keep hands off Anything special you’re a-mind to name. Though I don’t like such things ’twixt those that love. Two that don’t love can’t live together without them. But two that do can’t live together with them.’ She moved the latch a little. ‘Don’t—don’t go. Don’t carry it to someone else this time. Tell me about it if it’s something human. Let me into your grief. I’m not so much Unlike other folks as your standing there Apart would make me out. Give me my chance. I do think, though, you overdo it a little. What was it brought you up to think it the thing To take your mother-loss of a first child So inconsolably—in the face of love. You’d think his memory might be satisfied—’ ‘There you go sneering now!’ ‘I’m not, I’m not! You make me angry. I’ll come down to you. God, what a woman! And it’s come to this, A man can’t speak of his own child that’s dead.’ ‘You can’t because you don't know how to speak. If you had any feelings, you that dug With your own hand—how could you?—his little grave; I saw you from that very window there, Making the gravel leap and leap in air, Leap up, like that, like that, and land so lightly And roll back down the mound beside the hole. I thought, Who is that man? I didn’t know you. And I crept down the stairs and up the stairs To look again, and still your spade kept lifting. Then you came in. I heard your rumbling voice Out in the kitchen, and I don’t know why, But I went near to see with my own eyes. You could sit there with the stains on your shoes Of the fresh earth from your own baby’s grave And talk about your everyday concerns. You had stood the spade up against the wall Outside there in the entry, for I saw it.’ ‘I shall laugh the worst laugh I ever laughed. I’m cursed. God, if I don’t believe I’m cursed.’ ‘I can repeat the very words you were saying: “Three foggy mornings and one rainy day Will rot the best birch fence a man can build.” Think of it, talk like that at such a time! What had how long it takes a birch to rot To do with what was in the darkened parlor? You couldn’t care! The nearest friends can go With anyone to death, comes so far short They might as well not try to go at all. No, from the time when one is sick to death, One is alone, and he dies more alone. Friends make pretense of following to the grave, But before one is in it, their minds are turned And making the best of their way back to life And living people, and things they understand. But the world’s evil. I won’t have grief so If I can change it. Oh, I won’t, I won’t!’ ‘There, you have said it all and you feel better. You won’t go now. You’re crying. Close the door. The heart’s gone out of it: why keep it up. Amy! There’s someone coming down the road!’ ‘You—oh, you think the talk is all. I must go— Somewhere out of this house. How can I make you—’ ‘If—you—do!’ She was opening the door wider. ‘Where do you mean to go? First tell me that. I’ll follow and bring you back by force. I will!—’ bye.

Prayers.

Pray for Las Vegas :(

My thoughts with Buck Sexton and Ms. Molly. Be well.

bye.