Dumb witness

I may have mentioned that this year, I’ve been finishing the dozen Agatha Christie novels I hadn’t previously read from beginning to end.

My current read is Dumb Witness (1937), a.k.a. Poirot Loses a Client. The hero – apart from Poirot – is a little Scottish terrier named Bob. (Hastings narrates.)

“I don’t know why dogs always go for postmen, I’m sure,” continued our guide [Hastings and Poirot are touring a house].

“It’s a matter of reasoning,” said Poirot. “The dog, he argues from reason. He is intelligent; he makes his deductions according to his point of view. There are people who may enter a house and there are people who may not – that a dog soon learns. Eh bien, who is the person who most persistently tries to gain admission, rattling on the door twice or three times a day – and who is never by any chance admitted? The postman. Clearly, then, an undesirable guest from the point of view of the master of the house. He is always sent about his business, but he persistently returns and tries again. Then a dog’s duty is clear, to aid in driving this undesirable man away, and to bite him if possible. A most reasonable proceeding.”

He beamed on Bob.

“A most intelligent person, I fancy.”

Sometimes, I want to hug Poirot.

Movies for Halloween

Catching up on unseen horror movies.

(1) Karin has a friend who arranges “watch parties.” Everyone stays at home, watches simultaneously, and exchanges text messages.

Are they good movies? They are not.

How can a person love camp to the exclusion of all else? How does she persuade family and friends to watch with her, month after month, year after year? It boggles the mind.

Two sub-genres of camp are represented at these parties: Hallmark and horror. ’Tis the season for horror. (Hallmark is for Christmastime.)

I relate this, not to complain, but to admit that last week’s selection was much better than usual. I’m referring to Dario Argento’s Phenomena (1985). (Philomena, I kept wanting to call it.) It’s set in a girls’ boarding school in the Swiss Alps. Jennifer Connolly and other girls climb out of dormitory windows and wander through forests, at night. Some girls are murdered.

Then there’s the little matter of Connolly’s ability to communicate with insects.

Baddie going to slice you open? Just summon a swarm of flies to protect you.

And there’s a hyper-intelligent monkey. And there are turns by Patrick Bauchau and Donald Pleasance.

This is the second of Argento’s movies I’ve seen. Suspiria (1977), an earlier “watch party” selection, was much worse. Karin’s friend loved Phenomena so much, she was ready to watch it again the next day. I might choose to watch it again on an airplane, or in prison.

(2) Midsommar (2019) is a tedious Wicker Man rehash with an awesome performance by Florence Pugh.

It’s sometimes remarked that the character of Hamlet is much too splendid for the rest of the play. Something like this can be said of Midsommar. What if Ophelia (not Hamlet), inarticulate but facially and gesturally exquisite, were to visit a savage (Swedish!) tribe? What if her companions – one of them, her loutish boyfriend – were a bunch of Rozencrantzes and Guildensterns?

That’s what Midsommar is.

It also must be said that the opening scenes, which involve a murder-suicide, are genuinely wrenching. Everything turns silly after that.

We feed our children

Another “dine-in” attempt – this time with Daniel and Samuel, at a Chinese buffet. It was a success. Buttery cabbage on buttery whitefish on buttery, spicy, sugary chicken, on buttery noodles, with dumplings. Daniel ate for free; Samuel’s rate was reduced; the boys mostly stayed in their chairs. You could see the calories rushing through their arteries and veins, draining away their consciousness.

Not the fetus’s, though. “ ‘Pip’ loves this food,” Karin said. “He’s dancing around.”

Daniel heard a very tiny baby crying in the restaurant. He smiled. “Meow, meow,” he said.

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I’m sorry to admit, our sons have terrible eating habits. Daniel wakes up at 6:30 or 7:00 and begs for candy. (No, I don’t give him any.)

He may have finally turned a corner. He’s been asking for meals with more balance: today, peanut-buttered toast, strawberries, and Spanish rice.

Now that Karin is “in pig” (Nancy Mitford’s phrase), our WIC allowance has been raised: At the end of each month, we realize we haven’t claimed anything like our full share of vegetables. So, half-panicked, we go to the store and pick out avocados and other “costly” free items. This month it was dragon fruit, from Ecuador. I wondered if any of the fruit we looked at was descended, nearly or distantly, from Hoku’s parents’ farm.

Stir-crazy

We had our first visitors in a while: Edoarda & Stephen, who brought furniture for our basement. Of course, they didn’t stay long.

We had a brief visit, last week, from my Aunt Sally & Uncle Tim, who brought diapers and towelettes. Also, a church friend brought groceries, but he quietly set them on our porch and went away.

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Karin goes to her office but rarely sees clients. She staffs the drive-thru and answers phone calls.

Excepting my brief hospitalization, it’s been longer than two weeks since I last went out beyond our driveway. I haven’t done so at all in the daytime.

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Now is the time to turn one’s thoughts inward, to reflect that all the furniture of the universe is contained in the basement of the mind.

For Spotify subscribers who listen to the Orb:

Previously inaccessible tracks of The Orb’s Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld –

• “Little Fluffy Clouds”;
• “Outlands”;
• “Star 6 & 7 8 9”;

and

• “A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain that Rules from the Centre of the Ultraworld”

– are now accesible.

Samuel’s favorite songs

Just a few:

Acker Bilk, “Stranger on the Shore”:

Percy Faith, “Ebb Tide”:

Also, this version by the New Hawaiian Band, with ukulele by Ohta San:

Ralph Vaughan Williams, “March Past of the Kitchen Utensils,” from The Wasps:

And of course Vaughan Williams’s “Lark Ascending”:

The Bee Gees, “Stayin’ Alive”:

And “Jive Talkin’”:

Röyksopp’s remix of “I Don’t Know What I Can Save You From” by Kings of Convenience:

“Glen Coe” by the Orb:

The theme of the Australian crime show, Murder Call:

And for nap-time, pretty much any of Brian Eno’s Ambient 1: Music for Airports:

The British situation

Is the UK doing away with council housing?

Farewell, then, to the Britain of my imagination. The UK’d might as well get rid of its fish-and-chips shops and its London fog.

Not all Britons are very keen on council housing. I even happen to agree with those who, in 2008, opposed the inclusion of council flats in luxurious buildings.

Council flats shouldn’t have a hint of luxury about them. They ought to be squarely on the dingy side.

If council flats weren’t dingy, we wouldn’t have such brilliant movies as the Mike Leigh-directed All or Nothing or Andrea Arnold’s Fish Tank and Red Road …

or such brilliant songs as the Orb’s “Little Fluffy Clouds” …

(see these reminiscences of the Orb’s two members, Youth and Dr. Alex Paterson, about composing music, together with the KLF, inside a council flat).

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As I type this, Ireland Rep. are outplaying and defeating Sweden in the Euros. Yesterday, Ulster lost narrowly to Poland, and the day before that, Wales beat Slovakia. On the whole it’s been a good showing by the British Isles.

On the whole.

The English continue to disappoint their backers. During their game against the Russians, they were lions in possession but mouses in front of their opponents’ net. They squeaked in just one goal, a free kick, only for the Russians to equalize at the death. Then the Russian supporters chased the English supporters up and down the stadium and beat them up.

The Swedes have just equalized against the Irish.

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“I’m looking forward to Belgium’s game against the Italians,” I tell Karin. “The Belgians have been playing wonderfully these last few years.”

“Yes,” says Karin. “It must be because of Poirot.”