33 And As Yet No Third

If there were a stick to poke me with …it would probably hurt, actually… Well, anyhows, here it is: a new post.

Truth be told, I have been quite busy this past week’n’more. Naw, really, it’s true. At some point last week there were birthday celebrations to be had for I turned 33. (Is that what you call ‘busy’, S. Gregory? How about gettin’ a job? No, not in Arts, ya poofter! A REAL job! Like truck-drivin’ or housepaintin’ or any other such job what let’s ya get the ‘blow’ type off another tradesMAN in the front seat of your transport but ya conveniently rationalise to the Kinsey-like reporters that that doesn’t count as a homosexual experience because you ain’t no bloody poofter, ya just like havin’ ya prick sucked and if ya close your eyes it feels just the same as a woman’s mouth.) It was a disgustingly hot and humid day so I didn’t do much, except for a tasty pizzeria dinner with a few friends. Got some funky pressies (never a bad thing!), including a lot of printed Chaplin material (items like songs, programmes, books) from money Mum gave me, ‘Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls’ soundtrack c.d. with liner notes by the film’s co-author, Roger Ebert (from Rupert), ‘The Tragedy Of Hamlet, Prince Of Denmark’ (as embarrassing as it sounds, I’ve ne’er yet read it) (from Michael), a six d.v.d. set of Groucho Marx’s ‘You Bet Your Life’ (from the Bru’), ‘The Poems Of Samuel Taylor Coleridge’ (a lovely gesture by the lovely Darkneuro) and, most impressive of all (I must declare), a first edition copy of ‘My Autobiography’ AUTOGRAPHED BY CHARLIE CHAPLIN!!!!!!!! (This was from the most beautiful, wonderful Shantoozy.) So, thank you one and all!

(Only thing is, regarding the Chaplin book: It came with a Certificate of Authenticity but we have so far been unable to locate the ‘Saville’s of London’ who authorised it. Shantoozy contacted the seller, who claimed they bought it in London but that the shop may no longer be there for such is the way, claimed they, of Charing Cross Road. Hmmm. On the other hand, the book is inscribed to Arnold Haskell (famous for liberating the ballet from aristocratic snobbery, rightly promoting it as anyone’s domain, not just that of the so-called ‘upper-class’) and has (what seems to be) his bookplate laid in. Shantoozy was willing to take a risk on the purchase as she was getting the book at a much lower price than such an item usually demands. So, I feel that I must, to an extent, reserve my enthusiasm about it until we can procure more definite indication of its genuineness, which hopefully we shall; yet, at the same time, I lean pleasantly towards the belief that it is genuine until reasonably doubtless otherwise.)

Right now, I can hear Iggy Pop coming in live through my open front door. The weather is hot. Pop is in town performing just over the way. Henry Rollins was performing, too, earlier, spoken-word. (There’s a delightful tidbit for you, Darkneuro; or a bit to delight your tids, hee-hee.)

I went to see the Stanley Kubrick exhibition at The Australian Centre For The Moving Image this afternoon, with Shantoozy. Props and scripts and sketches and motion picture equipment and film snippets, etc. from the great filmmaker and his films. The costume Lord Olivier wore in ‘Spartacus’. The helmet from ‘Full Metal Jacket’ saying, ‘Born To Kill’, while sporting, also, a peace medallion. That crazy lens used to film the entirety of ‘Barry Lyndon’ in only natural light and candlelight. Moonwatching apemen costumes, an H.A.L. computer eye, the starchild figure and the model of that really, really long ‘Jupiter mission’ ship from ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’. Masks from ‘Eyes Wide Shut’. A typewriter that Jack Nicholson used in ‘The Shining’. Selections from the world’s largest book collection on Napoleon, which was owned by Stanley. (Will I someday hold a similarly mad record for my Chaplin book collection?) And much, much else. The event had been previously presented in Berlin and Frankfurt and today was its final day here in Melbourne in what is actually the largest Screen Gallery in the world, and possibly the messiest for someone had scrawled ‘REDRUM’ on the walls in a couple of places, wouldn’t you know? …Huh? Shouldn't I know...? Ohhhh, yeah, right…

Well, this is Arnold signing off for now and wishing you all a wonderful acceptance of the fact that obviously my name must now be changed to that for my copy of Chaplin’s ‘My Autobiography’ says that’s who I am ’cause I own it and it says ‘Dear Arnold’ and so, yeah, okay, I’ll shut up now and let you all get on with it or get it on which is actually more fun if you know the ‘wrong’ positions, you dirty scamperers.

My ga-ga continues soon…