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I don't know that I completely buy this premise, but the concept that the earth and humanity create a complex interaction feels right. I think that more examples will be necessary to completely convince me (and others). Now that the idea has been broached, I'm sure scientists will be looking for that data.
Need I say more? I think not.
This one's for you, Wonko.
German scholars think they have deciphered the 3600 year-old sky disc of Nebra. I'll believe almost anything, so long as James Spader doesn't smack himself in the forehead and say, "I just remembered—I do speak ancient Egyptian!"
Happy Friday, lovely. I'm sorry for missing you yesterday. I started on several different entries, actually, but none went where I wanted. Which isn't necessarily bad — entries often take unexpected turns — but these entries, in particular, simply seemed not right enough for this space.
And, you ask: This entry does seem right enough?
Yes, I answer, it does. Obviously. It's here — isn't it? — and, so, it must be right enough. And of the others, yesterday's un-entries? Of the others:
One entry had to do with a performance of many golden voices in one golden…
Lovely essay on Greene's friendship with a genuine Foreign Office undercover agent. Peter Edmund James Leslie was an ex-Anglican priest who converted to Catholicism, owned shares in a diamond mine, worked as an arms salesman, and served as a Vice-Consul—in others words, he was the very template of a Graham Greene protagonist.
This almost 10-year-old Billboard article is still timely. The next time a record label whinges about how the major labels are important cultural institutions preserving our musical patrimony, I'm going to email him this. Grrrr.
On the eve of the release of a new DVD edition of Empire of the Sun, J.G. Ballard muses on how strange it can be when Hollywood options your life—or something like it.