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May 22, 2013
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 The Egg and IPosted on Nov 18, 2011
By Mr. Fish As a teenager, world-renowned Oscar Wilde/Cindy Brady genius hybrid Truman Capote worked as a copy boy in the art department at The New Yorker. This was in the early 1940s, and one of his responsibilities, in addition to sorting cartoons for Saul Steinberg and William Steig and George Price, was to deliver the famously ill-tempered and blind humorist James Thurber to his mistress’ apartment at the end of the day. Capote would wait in the living room while the couple engaged in the sort of rowdy lovemaking that he later described as the sound of hogs being butchered. He would then dress Thurber and return the satiated lecher home, oftentimes fall-down drunk, to his wife, who would undress him for bed. The helplessness of his ward made Capote feel servile and invisible, like a nanny hired to mollycoddle a spoiled rotten baby with the same exact daily routine, Monday through Friday, that began with a few drinkie-poos, followed by a walkie-poo, then an obstreperous ejaculation into a homely secretary, then a changing, then another walkie-poo and then beddy-bye. Finally bored beyond tolerance by the scut work, Capote decided, while dressing Thurber one afternoon, to put the old man’s socks on inside out. Predictably, Thurber’s wife, who had dressed her husband in the morning, demanded an explanation as to why it had appeared he needed to remove his socks during the day, to which the celebrated wit is rumored to have quipped, “That fucking little queer.” (Pause to allow Eustace Tilley the Walter Mitty-esque daydream of believing that he is not really just Alfred E. Neuman in silk pantaloons and a $300 hat.) Needless to say, as a result of the inverted socks, Capote was immediately relieved of his professional obligation to Thurber’s vas deferens and, 70 years later, the artfulness of his extrication can still be enjoyed as thoroughly as if it were an exquisitely rendered poem designed expertly for repeated recitation. Specifically, not only does the story testify to the power of humor to sustain a real-life parable celebrating the ingenuity of a man hoping to escape the mundane, but it is also proof that the scenic, circuitous route through life may be preferable to the more direct. Had Capote merely decided to end his association with Thurber by complaining privately to Harold Ross, the magazine’s editor at the time, or by quitting, not only would the delectability of the original story have been lost forever, but so too would the example that the human experience could, at times, be lived with grace and artistry. When I was in the eighth grade, I was arrested for throwing eggs at a pedophile’s house. Let’s say that her name was Deloris Keating, not true, and that I was NOT chew-my-own-foot-off jealous that my 14-year-old friend, Richie, was the one having sex with her and not me, also not true, though both details are necessary for the streamlining of the narrative. She was old, real old, maybe 31, and freshly divorced with three young children. Richie was her baby sitter, and every Tuesday and Thursday night he would use a hair pick to inflate his North Jersey wopfro into a Don Henley, comb the porn star prototype mustache resting on his upper lip with a dry toothbrush, slap on enough Brut Cologne to bruise the air and walk to her house around the corner like he was Youngblood Priest in “Super Fly.” He would then watch television and drink chocolate milk with Deloris’ kids, feed them macaroni and cheese on plastic Hanna-Barbera plates, get them into their pajamas and tuck them into their beds. Then, sometime around 11 o’clock, his employer would come home and take off her pants, open her blouse, turn on a porno film and rub up against her hire, stinking of Long Island Iced Teas and cigarette smoke. Minus the diseased and psychotic manipulation of a minor, plus the inexplicable preference for Betamax over VHS, it was a real Romeo and Juliet romance. That is, until Richie thought that it would be a laugh-riot to take the 17-inch zucchini she had in her bedside table, bake it at 350 degrees for an hour and return it back to its drawer as soft as a gargantuan green alien stool sample. “What do you mean, what did she say?!” he barked back at me with watery eyes, momentarily forgetting that anybody with whom an adolescent boy is having sex is not so much a sex partner as an interloper encroaching on the magnificent love affair he is already having with his own genitalia. “She was pissed off—said that I was too fucking immature for her! Can you believe that shit?” he said, trying to keep the contents of his “Spider-Man” Trapper Keeper from spilling out all over the bus stop.
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By heterochromatic, November 21, 2011 at 10:49 pm Link to this comment
Watching Jeff casually round the corner with his hands in his pockets, not a care in
the world, we all learned, perhaps too late, how the truth is sometimes way too
important to be limited by the facts.—
but maybe they ought to get included a little more in your work, now that you’re
all grown up and everything.
Report thisgood story, though.
By mrfreeze, November 21, 2011 at 2:38 pm Link to this comment
oddsox - I get it! Thanks…
Report thisBy oddsox, November 21, 2011 at 11:36 am Link to this comment
mrfreeze:
*sigh* yeah, sure.. more public art, some of it is really good. But a few bridges and dams would be good as well with the 1/4 trillion of the stimulus devoted to infrastructure… (sorry, I’m drifting again…)
I’m no Eminem fan (as per my 1st post this thread), but your “white-boy, Eminem conducts his “black gospel chorus,”” comment is off the mark.
He isn’t directing them.
He’s either interrupting their rehearsal (empty theater), or perhaps arriving late to a private performance for an audience of one?
What are you imagining here???
Anyway, I didn’t care for the Chrysler ad for my own reasons, and commented as such when it was first reported on here at TruthDig. I see you commented, too.
http://www.truthdig.com/report/item/this_is_what_we_do_why_i_hated_chryslers_20110209/
By the way, IMHO, Fish can write but he’s no superstar at it.
Report thisHe should focus on the cartooning, the craft at which he has world-class potential.
By blogdog, November 20, 2011 at 8:24 pm Link to this comment
RE: “There’s no poetry in the retelling or re-examination of what we’ve been through over the last
decade because there is no artistry in the way the memory has been rendered…What source material will
our children have access to when it comes to making sense of 9/11, for example?
_______________
agreed, material very few artists engage; nevertheless, there are a few; e.g.
THE FALL ‘01 - http://vimeo.com/21358374 - 45 min.
and, as for the wholesale suffering and suicidal insanity surrounding
THE GLOBAL WAR OF TERROR
LAMENTATIO - http://vimeo.com/22317904 - 85 min.
though not necessarily for ‘our’ children - with most Americans today these works will not resonate -
the works are not rendered in contemporary pop-culture-language or aesthetic, virtually the only
language most Americans know, which is OK - these works are not really for our time - they’re for those
who’ll look back, decades, centuries, millennia from now - looking for artistic insight into our epoch,
much as we look to Homer for insight into the Trojan Wars - mainly why Homer is set for the solo
vocalist in the finale to LAMENTATIO…
THE EIGHTH BOOK OF HOMER’S ODYSSEYS
The Odysseys of Homer, vol. 1. 1857
Chapman, George, trans. (1559?–1634)
Of human frailty, that to see a man
Could so revive from death, yet no way can
Defend from death, his own quick powers it made
Feel there death’s horrors, and he felt life fade
In tears his feeling brain swet; for, in things
That move past utterance, tears ope all their springs.
Nor are there in the powers that all life bears
More true interpreters of all than tears.
the essential couplet:
Defend from death, his own quick powers it made
Feel there death’s horrors, and he felt life fade
... delivered in an aria prepared and follow by a choir singing the alpha-numeric assignations to the
isotopes in depleted uranium - accompanied by a corporeal and visual montage of horrorific war
detritus - LAMENTATIO (finale) - http://vimeo.com/24344858 - 12 min.
DU poisoning is now recognized as the essential cause of Gulf War Syndrome, and general genetic
Report thisdamage in populations across all modern theaters of war, joining a panoply of toxic aftermath ...
e.g. http://www.salem-news.com/articles/october042011/war-tourism-tk.php
By mrfreeze, November 20, 2011 at 6:26 pm Link to this comment
oddsox - No, you don’t get my meaning at all. I love public art. I’m merely pointing out that Fish’s criticism of our lack of relevant public art is personified in the Chrysler ad. Really, the anti-union fuckers who run the auto-giants throw public art into their propaganda????? Can’t you see that for what it is?
I didn’t even get to the end of where white-boy, Eminem conducts his “black gospel chorus,” just more propaganda…
My problem is that there isn’t ENOUGH public art.
Report thisBy tony_opmoc, November 20, 2011 at 5:32 pm Link to this comment
(Unregistered commenter)
I know Mr.Fish.
When you posted the thing about Mrs. Fish.
I and half the world just wanted to know She was O.K.
I didn’t have a clue who you were, but you had got to
my soul and I just wanted to know you were both O.K.
Thank You Sir.
Tony
Report thisBy tony_opmoc, November 20, 2011 at 2:27 pm Link to this comment
(Unregistered commenter)
WhilstI Really Love some of you Americans, I am not
an American and neither is my wife.
Sure I recognise that us English people HAVE BEEN
REALLY HORRIBLE IN OUR HISTORY LIKE RUNNING AN EMPIRE
AND STUFF…
aND MAYBE tHE qUEEN IS sTILL tRYING tO dO iT
But My Wife and I are just like You
We Come From Lancashire in England
We don’t want to take anything from anyone in any
Country
We just want you to come down our local pub, so we
can dance with you on a Sunday Aftermoon
We couldn’t give a fuck about the colour of your
skin, nor whatever you believe in
We even allow black and white People from the USA and
The Rest of The World in
To Dance With Us
Now Get Off Your Arse - Even and Especially If You
are in a Wheel Chair
And Feel it and Dance
Even If It is Just Within Your Soul
It Doesn’t Matter if You Are Blind or Deaf
Providing You Can See and Ask People To Get Up And
Dance With You.
No Excuses Allowed
You Just Have To Feel
We are hosting The Olympics In about 7 Months…
And so I tell Everyone
We Have Simply Got To Show The Truth That London IS
The Friendliest Most Welcoming City in The World.
You Going To Argue With Me?
Tony
Report thisBy oddsox, November 20, 2011 at 1:42 pm Link to this comment
mrfreeze: Ok, I get your meaning. You don’t like public art like the Spirit of Detroit or Walter Speck’s UAW mural being co-opted for commercial use.
I’d guess you don’t like Bud ads showing the St. Louis Gateway Arch either.
But you also wrote: “American industry (and Americans themselves) hate unions..”
I have a close friend who works HR for a small company and he DOES hate unions.
Calls ‘em leeches & we could go on and on, but let’s not.
In the American auto industry, labor and management have always had a stormy marriage, but they’ve got by pretty well until the gas prices started spiking in the early ‘70s.
I’m a former Teamster myself—in my view, all workers should have the right to bargain, but public sector unions are a different animal from private sector unions & there should be distinctions made.
As the recent Ohio election shows, “Americans themselves” don’t hate unions.
Report thisBy mrfreeze, November 20, 2011 at 12:37 pm Link to this comment
oddsox - My point had more to do with Mr. Fish’s comment about the “purpose” of art. Today it’s all about the sales, about the marketing, about crafting a “vision/narrative” that taps into some sort of nostalgia (in this case all the hard working “”“”“"union”“”“"members) that has no meaning any longer.
Selling cars using an image of union workers at at time when American industry (and Americans themselves) hate unions….....shame, shame, shame, shame…....even if they made great cars today, the “art-become-propaganda” is still disgusting.
Report thisBy oddsox, November 20, 2011 at 12:03 pm Link to this comment
Mr. Freeze:
“Chrysler uses the image (Spirit of Detroit sculpture) in the most profoundly disgusting way to sell their crappy cars.”
To me, it’s the crappy car that’s disgusting.
Completely ordinary and a great example of why Detroit wheels have lost their shine.
There’s nothing new, exciting or quality about a Chrysler 200.
Even the “Imported from Detroit” slogan isn’t original (was considered for the Mustang’s unveiling in ‘64) and every time I see or hear Eminem I get the mental image of his close encounter with Bruno at the MTV awards show a few years back.
If you’re old enough to remember when Detroit made the best cars in the world, check out the billboards from Detroit featuring cars made in the 50s and 60s.
Report thishttp://www.gminsidenews.com/forums/f19/woodward-dream-cruise-chevy-billboards-81859
By mrfreeze, November 20, 2011 at 10:45 am Link to this comment
What a great thing Mr. Fish writes:
“I worry because I don’t see any significant artwork being produced nowadays to help deepen our understanding of recent historical events beyond whatever sound bites we’re given by the 24-hour news cycle,”
Well, I’ve thought about this idea for a while now; this idea that “art” in modern-day American is more marketing/advertising and propaganda than anything else. To this day, one of the most heinous and disturbing “art productions” ever foisted on the American public is that fucking disgusting Chrysler commercial broadcast last year during the Super Bowl (another ridiculous American fetish). Here it is:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SKL254Y_jtc
What’s so utterly disturbing is the “art” depicted at around 30 second shows a painting that (apparently) symbolizes “hard work and industry” a concept that has been overwhelming been REJECTED by the elites (and most regular Americans themselves)........AND YET…Chrysler uses the image in the most profoundly disgusting way to sell their crappy cars. Whilst politicians are bemoaning the “socialist takeover” of the auto industry, Chrysler uses labor-“art” to sell it’s cars??????
Yes, indeed, art is telling a story…“buy, buy, buy, buy, buy, buy, buy…..
Report thisBy tony_opmoc, November 20, 2011 at 7:47 am Link to this comment
O.K., I get it now. Sorry for being so slow.
Tony
Report thisBy tony_opmoc, November 20, 2011 at 7:44 am Link to this comment
If you had said courgette instead of zucchini, I
might have had a clue what your cartoon is trying to
say.
Meanwhile can you please not piss off the powers who
think they are in control. I find it rather
embarrassing to for example link your cartoon to
Craig Murray’s website only to find that it has
completely evaporated as if it never existed, and I
can only find it again by accident on places like
Gilad Atzmon’s webshack.
What a waste of an egg.
Tony
Report thisBy kerryrose, November 20, 2011 at 5:53 am Link to this comment
If this story is true… I’m not sure that burning Thurber qualifies as an act of courageous creativity. Taking a courageous, moral and creative stance would be to say F-you to Thurber’s face, or to tell his wife out and out maybe in a huge penis costume.
Turning socks inside out is just passive aggressive (and cowardly)—- not creative.
Report thisBy rumblingspire, November 20, 2011 at 12:11 am Link to this comment
(Unregistered commenter)
the story of today has been told. the authors serene faces stare from Easter Island at you.
Report thisBy Carl Quinlan, November 19, 2011 at 9:20 am Link to this comment
(Unregistered commenter)
That Thurber story was discredited by several sources. It seems Capote (who had a tenuous grip on the truth when telling stories about his youth) had a grudge against Thurber, and so spread this malicious falsehood. Read some recent biographies of Thurber. They don’t sugar coat his final years (he was not a nice man, but a deeply troubled individual, an alcoholic, blind because of the negligence of his family’s doctors, with a growing brain tumor and a stack of rejections from the unfunny late 1950s New Yorker) but he was never dressed by Capote.
Capote was famous for spreading false gossip against those who he felt had failed to appreciate his “genius” (such as inventing the non-fiction novel, another spurious claim) and it is sad his gossip persists to this day.
Report thisBy rumblingspire, November 18, 2011 at 10:08 pm Link to this comment
(Unregistered commenter)
“when everyones a sinner
its fire engine time”
I would fall asleep beside Mrs. Robinson, her two fingers feeling my radial pulse. Once I woke up to her face telling me to go to sleep.
Report thisshe left it on the table one day for me to see; an ancient huge book on mesmerism. i read a section; a tip for the novice to not smoke and thus demonstrate control in himself. there was some instruction in there about the mesmerizer learning to breathe like the subject in order to learn and gain control.
fantastically she demonstrated it once while i was standing exposed, telling her i had grown. i asked her to hypnotize me now. she simply said “when i count to 3 you will fall asleep, 1, 2, 3” and to my utter amazement my head dropped like a rock. I Think i was out for just a split second.