
“’No More Undiscovered Countries’: The Early Promise and Disappointing Career of Time-Lapse Photography” (essay from Film Studies)
Devoted to media matters, politics, poetry, creativity, the evolution of consciousness, and autobiographical reflections, "The Laverytory" is the blog of David Lavery, literature, film, and television scholar/critic, now teaching at Middle Tennessee State University.
The act of turning to imagination is not an act of introspection: it is a negative capability, a willful suspension of disbelief in the [daimones] and of belief in oneself as their author. The relativization of the author—who is making up whom, who is writing whom—goes along with the fictional mode; in the course of active imagination one waivers between losing control and putting words in their mouths. But introspection will not solve even this problem, only the act of fictioning further. Introspection simply returns one to the literalism of subjectivity. We have taken the notion of subjectivity so literally that we now believe in an imaginary subject at the beginning of each sentence who does the work, a subject pre-fixing each verb. But the work is done by the verbs themselves; they are fictioning, actively imagining, not I. The action is in the plot, inaccessible to introspection, and only the characters know what's going on. As Philemon taught Jung: you are not the author of the play of the psyche.
--James Hillman, Healing Fiction
I have been writing recently about "animal faith" an idea taken from George Santayana which is that faith in the world, that it is there, that it won't give way underfoot when you take the next step that you just know which way to turn and how to proceed. It's the faith that your hands have and your feet have. . . . the cat jumps on the tree and starts climbing. The tree is not an object of faith to which the cat gives assent. It is a tree in an ecological field belonging to the cat's climbing. The cat has an animal faith in the tree and it loves the tree, loves itself, loves jumping and climbing no self examination there, no introspecting about belief. Or it would stay home, or see a priest. . . .
--James Hillman, Inter Views
The Greeks didn't have to believe in their Gods. They didn't say, "I believe in. . . ." That came in with Christianity. They didn't have a theology they had myths. And we need to read our psychic life not theologically but mythically. They didn't even have a word for religion. When something appears a voice, an image, a dream you respond to it. . . . A Christian has to ask, Is this from God or the Devil? Is it real or did I make it up? . . . This disturbs the natural relationship with phenomena. The very act of believing, the declaration of "I believe," is a subjectivism. It cuts one off from what's there. It cuts one off from imagination, from one's animal faith.
--James Hillman, Inter Views


What we have come to call "Western" consciousness is in truth northern consciousness. And we falsify the psychological situation by imagining the basic opposition to be between East and West. Because this pairing is horizontal it tends to project its oppositions outward into the literal geography of external space, catching us in fantasies of uniting our souls by a meeting of East and West. The other pairing in our souls is that of North and South, light and shadow, conscious and unconscious, a vertical dimension between what is above and what is below, a reflection in imaginal geography of our cultural history.
--James Hillman, Re-Visioning Psychology
Rush Limbaugh thinks Sonia Sotomayor is a “hack” and worse, “Here you have a racist — you might want to soften that, and you might want to say a reverse racist.”
This seems very confused. Being a “reverse racist” can’t be similar to being a “racist,” it needs to be the reverse of being a racist. Limbaugh clearly just thinks Sotomayor is a racist. She hates white people. For a Latina to hate white people isn’t “reverse” racism, it’s racism. Reverse racism would be if you had a white person who hates white people. It would be like racism, where you hate people of other races, but in reverse.

As the dream is guardian of sleep, so our dream-work, yours and mine, is protective of those depths from which dreams rise, the ancestral, the mythical, the imaginal, and all the hiding invisibilities that govern our lives. Dreams are sleep's watchful brother, of death's fraternity, heralds, watchmen of that coming night, and our attitude toward them may be modeled upon Hades, receiving, hospitable, yet relentlessly deepening, attuned to the nocturne, dusky, and with a fearful cold intelligence that gives permanent shelter in his house to the incurable conditions of human being.
--James Hillman, The Dream and the Underworld
It's a fitfully amusing show with likeable [sic] characters and one killer bit of casting, and that's about it. Sometimes it threatens greatness, but mostly, it's just content to hang-out, maybe drink the last beer in the fridge, and kill time until something better comes along.
Yes, the rumor of the CW affiliates picking up the show to help fill their now-vacant Sunday lineup is still out there, but A) I know nothing about it that you don't, and B) It seems like such a Hail Mary, between the logistics of ordering it and the departures of Tyler Labine and "Reaper" creators Fazekas and Butters, that I'm going to assume, until there are confirmed reports of production beginning on new episodes, that it'll turn out like "Arrested Development" on Showtime or the "Deadwood" TV-movies.

There is a Bible in every wanderer's bedroom, where there might better be the Odyssey.
--James Hillman, Re-Visioning Psychology
By believing passionately in something that still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired.
--Franz Kafka
I think I understand the fall of man better than anyone else.
--Franz Kafka

I just took my time. A second is a long time for me. For others, it is very short.
He is a free and secure citizen of this earth, for he is attached to a chain that is long enough to make all areas of the earth accessible to him, and yet only so long that nothing can pull him over the edges of the earth. At the same time, however, he is also a free and secure citizen of heaven, for he is also attached to a similarly calculated heavenly chain. Thus, if he wants to get down to earth, he is choked by the heavenly collar and chain; if he wants to get into heaven, he is choked by the earthly one. And in spite of this he has all the possibilities, and feels that it is so; indeed, he even refuses to attribute the whole thing to a mistake in the original chaining.
--Franz Kafka
As everybody knows, or is supposed to say in public company: Television is stupid.
Upon My Offering Her an Easter Chocolate, My Wife Screams that She Won't Let Me Make Her Fat

Of course [the cinema is] a marvelous toy. But I cannot bear it, because perhaps I am too "optical" by nature. I am an Eye-man. But the cinema disturbs one's vision. The speed of the movements and the rapid change of images forces men to look continually from one to another. Sight does not flood one's consciousness. The cinema involves putting the eye into uniform, where before it was naked. . . . Real life is only a reflection of the dreams of poets. The strings of the lines of modern poets are endless strips of celluloid.
--Franz Kafka, Conversations with Kafka
AUSIELLO: Will Sarah be working at a Subway next season?
SCHWARTZ: [Laughs] You know, I don't know the full details of the Subway integration yet. I know it will be significant. Chuck is a show that happens to be well positioned for effortless product integration, especially because Chuck works at an electronics shop in a strip mall. If Sarah or someone worked at a Subway it would hopefully be no more intrusive or unrealistic than Liz Lemon [Tina Fey's character on 30 Rockworking at NBC.
The books we need are of the kind that act upon us like a misfortune, that make us suffer like the death of someone we love more than ourselves, that make us feel as though we were on the verge of suicide, or lost in a forest remote from all human habitation; a book should serve as the ax for the frozen sea within us.
--Franz Kafka



You know the story of the crazy man who was fishing in a bathtub. A doctor with ideas as to psychiatric treatment asked him "if they were biting," to which he received the harsh reply: "Of course not, you fool, since this is a bathtub." That story belongs to the baroque type. But in it can be grasped quite clearly to what a degree the absurd effect is linked to an excess of logic. Kafka’s world is in truth an indescribable universe in which man allows himself the tormenting luxury of fishing in a bathtub, knowing that nothing will come of it.
--Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus
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C'mon Japan. We all know that classrooms are not run by mindless automatons. They are supposed to produce them.
Why is it that we rejoice at a birth and grieve at a funeral? It is because we are not the person involved.
--Mark Twain
OCTOBER 12, THE DISCOVERY. It was wonderful to find America, but it would have been more wonderful to miss it.
--Mark Twain
It could probably be shown by facts and figures that there is no distinctly native American criminal class except Congress.
Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself.
--Mark Twain
The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.
--Mark Twain
Clark wants no part of this crazy human race. He tells Chloe that "Clark Kent" is dead. Couldn't he have died about three seasons ago and saved us a lot of pain?

We should be careful to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is in it - and stop there; lest we be like the cat that sits down on a hot stove-lid. She will never sit down on a hot stove-lid again - and that is well; but also she will never sit down on a cold one anymore.
--Mark Twain

The ribs were hung with trophies; the vertebrae were carved with Arsacidean annals, in strange hieroglyphics; in the skull, the priests kept up an unextinguished aromatic flame, so that the mystic head again sent forth its vapory spout; while, suspended from a bough, the terrific lower jaw vibrated over all the devotees, like the hair-hung sword that so affrighted Damocles.
It was a wondrous sight. the wood was green as mosses of the icy Glen; the trees stood high and haughty, feeling their living sap; the industrious earth beneath was as a weaver's loom, with a gorgeous carpet on it, whereof the ground-vine tendrils formed the warp and woof, and the living flowers the figures. All the trees, with all their laden branches; all the shrubs, and ferns, and grasses; the message-carrying air; all these unceasingly were active. Through the lacings of the leaves, the great sun seemed a flying shuttle weaving the unwearied verdure. Oh, busy weaver! unseen weaver! - pause! - one word! - whither flows the fabric? what palace may it deck? wherefore all these ceaseless toilings? Speak, weaver! - stay thy hand! - but one single word with thee! Nay - the shuttle flies - the figures float from forth the loom; the freshet- rushing carpet for ever slides away. The weaver-god, he weaves; and by that weaving is he deafened, that he hears no mortal voice; and by that humming, we, too, who look on the loom are deafened; and only when we escape it shall we hear the thousand voices that speak through it. For even so it is in all material factories. The spoken words that are inaudible among the flying spindles; those same words are plainly heard without the walls, bursting from the opened casements. Thereby have villanies been detected. Ah, mortal! then, be heedful; for so, in all this din of the great world's loom, thy subtlest thinkings may be overheard afar.
Now, amid the green, life-restless loom of that Arsacidean wood, the great, white, worshipped skeleton lay lounging - a gigantic idler! Yet, as the ever-woven verdant warp and woof intermixed and hummed around him, the mighty idler seemed the cunning weaver; himself all woven over with the vines; every month assuming greener, fresher verdure; but himself a skeleton. Life folded Death; Death trellised Life; the grim god wived with youthful Life, and begat him curly-headed glories.


As it happens, Flannery O’Connor’s aforementioned book takes its title — Everything That Rises Must Converge — from a phrase coined by an egghead and fellow Catholic provocateur named Pierre Teilhard de Chardin [pictured], who concocted a theory of evolution called [the] “Omega Point.” Basically, it’s the idea that there is some kind of transcendent entity or consciousness that is guiding everyone and everything toward greater complexity and enlightenment, until everyone and everything becomes transcendent, too. I think. More simply, it’s Jacob’s view: There is a single end; everything before then is progress. Chardin believed his Omega entity was basically Jesus Christ himself. His phrase, “everything that rises must converge,” is a poetical expression of a key Christian idea known in the Greek apokatastasis. It’s like the opposite of apocalypse, or rather, what comes after apocalypse. I’m not trying to get all religious on you, but it is what it is: apokatastasis is the idea that in the end, Satan will be defeated and that all of creation will be redeemed and unified under Christ. “Now is the judgment of the world: now shall the prince of this world be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to myself.” (John 12:31-32) Or, again, to use a line from the show: “He who will save us all.” That, my friends, is the answer, translated from Richard Alpert’s Latin, to Ilana’s riddle: “What lies in the shadow of the statue?"
I cannot see how a man of any large degree of humorous perception can ever be religious--except he purposely shut the eyes of his mind & keep them shut by force.
--Mark Twain
Adam was but human—this explains it all. He did not want the apple for the apple's sake; he wanted it only because it was forbidden. The mistake was in not forbidding the serpent; then he would have eaten the serpent.
--Mark Twain

In your nature observation
One and all want equal station.
Nothing's inside, nothing's outside.
For the inside is the outside.
Grasp without procrastination
Patent-occult revelation.
--Goethe

Caught up in this earth, man yet feels himself deeply and clearly a denizen of that spiritual realm in which we can neither refuse nor cease to believe. This affinity holds the secret of our everlasting aspiration toward an unknown goal.
--Goethe
That's treason. That's not saying anything different from what Osama bin Laden is saying... .I think maybe Rush Limbaugh was the 20th hijacker but he was so strung out on Oxycontin he missed his flight. Hope Obama fails. I hope his kidneys fail.
He lives vicariously--through himself.
The world advances only because of those who oppose it.
--Goethe
One of my personalities happens to be a multiple personality.--Alpha
I don’t know why Alpha would imprint her as a background singer unless he was starting an evil band.--Topher
You’re in a lair! An evil lair!--New Caroline
Was I not my best? I was making art.--Alpha after his slasharama
The highest that man can attain in these matters . . . is wonder; if the primary phenomenon causes this, let him be satisfied; more it cannot bring; and he should forbear to seek for anything further behind it; here is the limit. But the sight of a prime phenomenon is generally not enough for people. They think they must go still further, and are thus like children, who, after peeping into a mirror, turn round directly to see what is on the other side.
--Goethe
Long before Lostpedia and in-character Mad Men tweets; long before Kirk made out with Spock in a turbolift, courtesy of some devotee's overheated imagination; long before the words slash and drabble came to signify genres of, ahem, literature, there was Sherlock Holmes. Scarcely had Arthur Conan Doyle begun publishing his tales of the deductive detective when an avid fan base sprang up, the first of a new breed of followers. These early Sherlockians weren't content simply to read the books. They wanted to enter the world Conan Doyle had created, puppeteer his characters, and design their own mysteries for Holmes to solve. In short, they wanted to play, and, with Xbox still a few years off, they ended up doing the next best thing: They wrote stories. Lots of them.
For Sir Arthur, God bless him, didn't write with an eye to what today's nerd would call "continuity." Crafting Holmes stories bored him, and he frequently lost track of details like the exact location of Watson's Afghan war wound (was it the shoulder or the leg?) and the precise status of Mrs. Watson. But Sir Arthur's table scraps, his inconsistencies and random allusions, made for a fan feast. From a throwaway line—a hilariously oblique reference such as "the giant rat of Sumatra, a story for which the world is not yet prepared"—scores of amateur yarns have been spun.
He has religion
Who has art and science;
Who has not art nor science,
Needs have religion.
--Goethe
If the eyes are the windows of the soul, why does it hurt to spray them with Windex?
I’ve been thinking a lot about Daniel’s big “The variable is made out of people!” speech from last week, and I even wrote a little something extra about it in the comment section last weekend. My understanding of his new theory isn’t that it’s some lovey-dovey “people can do anything” hoo-hah, so much as a growing awareness that since the time-travelers are experiencing the past as the present, and since they’re human beings with free will, they are under no obligation to try to avoid changing the past. They should just do what they do and let the chips fall. I’ll add that in the most recent podcast, Darlton said that the original script contained a longer explanation from Daniel about how much they can alther the past. To wit: If they do little things, they’ll change nothing, much like a tiny stone makes a little ripple but has no lasting effect on the stream it’s tossed into; but if they do something huge, they can make a big enough splash to redirect the flow.
-On that same subject, Eloise’s “course-correction” theory and all the chatter about how “the island’s not done with you yet” makes a lot more sense if you take time-travel into account. “The island’s not done with you” could just mean that Eloise (and others) have first-hand experience of those people appearing on the island again. And “course-correction” may not be some cosmic effect so much as Eloise and her band of “whatever happened, happened” zealots hustling their buns off to make sure that the course remains fundamentally the same. If I’m right about this, her “Eh, close enough” Ajira 316 plan doesn’t seem quite so slipshod after all. For years, she’s been putting the pieces in place the best she can, and improvising where necessary. It's like synchronized swimming. Above the water, it looks pretty graceful, but under the water, they’re paddling as fast as they can.
If it's the greatest, the highest you seek, the plant can direct you.
Strive to become through your will what, without will, it is.
--Goethe

Yes, you're both one-dimensional fictional characters.


Then only are we really thinking when the subject on which we are thinking cannot be thought out.
--Goethe
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I don't trust the movies. Why are they trying to lure me into a dark room full of strangers?
Storytelling reveals meaning without committing the error of defining it. . . . it brings about consent and reconciliation with things as they are, and . . . we may even trust it to contain eventually by implication that last word which we expect from the day of judgment.
--Hannah Arendt
[Modern science] has indeed forced the ground of appearances into the open so that man, a creature fitted for and dependent on appearances, can catch hold of it. But the results have been rather perplexing. No man, it has turned out, can live among "causes" or give full account in normal language of a Being whose truth can be scientifically demonstrated in the laboratory and tested practically in the real world through technology. It does look as though Being, once made manifest, overruled appearances except that nobody so far has succeeded in living in a world that does not manifest itself of its own accord.
--Hannah Arendt, Thinking
Such feelings have been commonplace for some time now. They show that men everywhere are by no means slow to catch up and adjust to scientific discoveries and technical development, but that, on the contrary, they have outsped them by decades. Here, as in other respects, science has realized and affirmed what men anticipated in dreams that were neither wild nor idle. What is new is only that one of this country's most respectable newspapers finally brought to its front page what up to then had been buried in the highly nonrespectable literature of science-fiction. . . . The banality of the statement should not make us overlook how extraordinary in fact it was; for although Christians have spoken of the earth as a prison of mind or soul, nobody in the history of mankind has ever conceived of the earth as a prison of men's bodies or shown such eagerness to go literally from here to the moon. Should the emancipation and secularization of the modern age, which began with a turning-away, not necessarily from God, but from a god who was the father of men in heaven, end with an even more fateful repudiation of an earth who was the mother of all living creatures under the sky?
The earth is the very quintessence of the human condition, and earthly nature, for all we know, may be unique in the universe in providing human beings with a habitat in which they move and breathe without effort and without artifice. The human artifice of the world separates human existence from all mere animal environment, but life itself is outside this artificial world, and through life remains related to all other living organisms. For some time now, a great many scientific endeavors have been directed toward making life also "artificial," toward cutting the last tie through which man belongs among the children of nature. . . . There is no reason to doubt our abilities to accomplish such an exchange, just as there is no reason to doubt our present ability to destroy all organic life on earth. . . .
--Hannah Arendt, The Human Condition
The overwhelming reality of space is that it is, for us, for the foreseeable future and perhaps forever, utterly lifeless, bleak, and empty. Nor do we have the ability to make it otherwise, except on paper or on the television screen. We live in the world where we arose, completely suited by God, evolution, or both, to its conditions. Unless we abuse it terribly, it keeps us alive even if we forget about it or ignore it. When our created systems malfunction, as they always do sooner or later, the earth is still there to hold us and keep us while we tinker with our broken creations. In space, when the rockets misfire, when the O rings and backup O rings fail, when the captain loses his mind, or when the waste-purifying algae develop a disease, as they all must sooner or later, then the story is over. If we could create a truly complete life support system to sustain us in space, then we would have created the earth.
--David Ehrenfeld, "The Lesson of the Tower"

By now, however, anyone coming to Bones (new viewer or old faithful) might be struck by how little the cases, the plots, actually matter. Half the time the episode's murder seems to be an excuse to make light jokes, banter, and maneuver Bones and Booth ever closer to more-than-smoochy intimacy. I mean this as a compliment: A thousand other shows are all about the crime solving—Bones stands out as TV's most dependable romantic screwball comedy.
8. Damages' Ellen Parsons
We gave her the benefit of the doubt the first season, but Season 2 made it pretty clear that Rose Byrne is out of her acting league on this show. And even if she weren't, we're sick of the character. The Frobisher case is beyond over, Patty's admitted she tried to have her killed -- every compelling loose end in Ellen's storyline has been tied up. We'd love to see a third season centered solely around Patty and Tom Shayes paying off judges and blackmailing hookers for testimony instead of Ellen's David hallucinations and Patty hatred. But that's just us.
The common and the ordinary must remain our primary concern, the daily food of our thought if only because it is from them that the uncommon and the extraordinary emerge, and not from matters that are difficult and sophisticated.
--Hannah Arendt

