For reasons as yet unknown to medical science, although I am doing my best to get medical science to find them out, I am in the acutely worst shape I have been in since the summer of 2023 and it is devouring all of my time. Have some links.
1. In music still in situ on my computer, I have had the Punters' "
Jim Harris" (1997) since 2005 when I believe it to have been one of the fruits of a now-deceased music community on LJ. It is not a variant on Child 243; it was contemporarily written by
Peter Leonard of Isle Valen about a local schooner fender-bender in 1934. I discovered last year that it's got a
Roud number and I have never gotten over the way its last verse turns from traditionally recounted maritime mini-disaster to
Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi:
It's all right when the wheel is going up, but when she turns for to go down
You all might meet with the same sad fate as Jim Harris in Paradise SoundThe folk tradition being what it is, this song is naturally the only thing I know abour its eponymous captain, which is rough.
2. I should not have read
this article about the Instagram filter valley of the current rejuvenative craze for deep-plane face-lifts no matter what because one of the reasons I have trouble being read as younger than my age is that I have worked very hard to reach this one, but toward the end of the piece I hit an anonymously quoted surgeon, "When you look at someone else with an elite face-lift . . . all you should be thinking is,
How did you age better than me? The goal is you want to look genetically dominant to other people," and at the notion that eugenics should be aspirationally mixed with ageism, I just wanted that surgeon to be operated upon by Dr. Einstein after an all-night open-bar horror marathon. I felt better after dialing up the grainily inimitable footage of Pamela Blair's "
Dance: Ten; Looks: Three" (1975).
3. Thanks to listening to
Arthur Askey, I became curious about the origins of the musical have-a-banana phrase which diffused decades ago from
music hall into general pop culture and apparently the best
guess is a
Rocky Horror-style audience improvisation that has now endured as a meme for more than a century. Good for it.
I just want to sleep and read books and write about movies. Who's even asking for a small fortune?