Blinky Blinky

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A Whole New Level of Communication Between Motorists

In the State of California, there are three reasons for using the hazrd lights on your automobile. The following is from the California Vehicle Code § 25251 (2025):

(2) When disabled or parked off the roadway but within 10 feet of the roadway, or when approaching, stopped at, or departing from, a railroad grade crossing, turn signal lamps may be flashed as warning lights if the front turn signal lamps at each side are being flashed simultaneously and the rear turn signal lamps at each side are being flashed simultaneously.

(3) To warn other motorists of accidents or hazards on a roadway, turn signal lamps may be flashed as warning lights while the vehicle is approaching, overtaking, or passing the accident or hazard on the roadway if the front turn signal lamps at each side are being flashed simultaneously and the rear turn signal lamps at each side are being flashed simultaneously.

(5) To warn other motorists of a funeral procession, turn signal lamps may be flashed as warning lights on all vehicles actually engaged in a funeral procession, if the front turn signal lamps at each side are being flashed simultaneously and the rear turn signal lamps at each side are being flashed simultaneously.

Drivers in the state have, however, adopted other reasons for using the emergency flashers. They can be interpreted as follows:

  • “I am a timid soul and not at all a sophisticated driver. Please do not kill me.”
  • “I am not at all sure what I am doing, so please cut me some slack until such time as I make up my mind.”
  • “The rain or snow or fog is cutting down on my visibility, so I’m just going to be super conservative until we’re out of the soup.”

There are others, but these are the most common interpretations that I’ve been able to divine.

The Film Screening Cooperative

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UCLA’s Melnitz Hall

When I was in the graduate film program at UCLA around 1970, I served as the second chairman of the Film Screening Cooperative (FSC). I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was actually a seminal film society. We invited director Budd Boetticher to screen and talk on the subject of his film Arruza about Mexican bullfighter Carlos Arruza. We also had some wild programs, most notably a quintuple feature of Edgar G. Ulmer films.

Among the voting members of the Film Screening Cooperative were:

  • Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz, the husband-wife team who wrote American Graffiti
  • Thom Andersen, a filmmaker, critic, and film teacher who served as the first chairman of the FSC
  • Steve Manes from USC, a screenwriter (Mother, Jugs & Speed), author, and magazine columnist
  • Alain Silver and James Ursini, who collaborated on numerous books on film, particularly Film Noir
  • Charley Lippincott of USC, who was closely associated with George Lucas

The films were screened at the luxurious theater connected to UCLA’s Melnitz Hall.

It was at Melnitz that I was badly spooked on February 9, 1971, the day of the Sylmar earthquake that was ranked at 6.5 on the Richter scale and cause extensive damage and fatalities across Southern California. That evening, I attended a screening of Alfred Hitchcock’s Sabotage (1936) at Melnitz. Just when Hitch showed an anarchist sabotaging the electrical system of London, we all felt an aftershock; and all the lights went out.

Internet Friendships

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The Reality of Internet Friendships Depends on How Old You Are

I have posted thousands of blogs on the Internet over the last eighteen years, yet I have no close Internet friendships. Is this a problem? For me it is not, as I take friendship very seriously. At my advanced age, I do not believe that someone who has never met me reads what I write and sees in me a real friend.

Every once in a while, I get a message from a stranger, usually a female, asking to chat with me. “About what?” I think. My posted blogs are as far as I will commit myself in print. I have no wish to start a clandestine relationship with someone who is possibly trying to mess with me. The relationships that are important to me are those with Martine, my brother, and my in-person friends, usually people I have known for a long time.

Younger people tend to be more active in seeking out Internet friends. I can understand that: They are more likely to measure their happiness by the number of mutually gratifying contacts they have made. I, on the other hand, am not interested in answering questions about how I feel. In my blogs, I make no secret of how I feel. Why would I need to carry on conversations on the side, so to speak?

If you read my blogs regularly, you know that I have been affected by the summer heat wave that seems only now to be releasing its grip. When Martine and I have gone through rough patches in our relationship, I have written about them and how terrible they made me feel. For instance, Martine left me for several days in 2017. Here is what I wrote when she returned. How would that go over in an e-mail format?

On several occasions, women have messaged me to converse with them. Don’t they realize that I am most frank in my blog posts? I don’t really want to meet up with them. They don’t really have any idea who I am, and they very likely have not read many my my blogs. They could go all the way back to 2012 on WordPress and see how I have felt on an almost daily basis over the last fourteen years.

The End of a Heat Wave

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Today, for the first time in more than two months, the temperature in Southern California is close to normal, with cooler days to come. Of course, it will still be humid; but that is because the Pacific Ocean between Mexico and Hawaii is churning out typhoons and cyclones as if they were sausages. Even though these are a thousand miles (1,609 kilometers) southwest of us, the winds carry much of the moisture our way.

What this means is I will be able to go places without sweating and stinking excessively. Combined with my broken collarbone at the beginning of June, the hot weather has kept me close to the ocean most of the time. In three months, I have been able to go to the central library downtown only three times—and it took a lot out of me to do so.

Martine and I will celebrate by attending the Long Beach Greek Festival this coming weekend.

“The Mystery of All Mysteries”

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Isaac Bashevis Singer (1902-1991)

He wrote in Yiddish, yet he was one of the greatest storytellers who have ever lived. I have just finished reading his collection Gimpel the Fool and Other Stories and, for the first time in my life, I found all of the stories within to be great, with no falling off in quality from beginning to end as is usual. The following excerpt is from his story “The Unseen”:

On his last night, Nathan dreamed that Roise Temerl [his beloved first wife] and Shifra Zirel [his abusive second wife] were one woman with two faces. He was overjoyed at her appearance. “Why have I not noticed this before?” he wondered. “Why did I have to go through this trouble and anxiety?” He kissed the two-faced female, and she returned his kisses with her doubled lips, pressing against him her two pairs of breasts. He spoke words of love to her, and she responded in two voices. In her four arms and two bosoms, all his questions were answered. There was no longer life and death, here nor there, beginning nor end. “The truth is two-fold,” Nathan exclaimed, “This is the mystery of all mysteries.”

Ruling by Ukase

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More Executive Orders on the Way

It is the perfect Trumpian moment. Surrounded by the usual wooden MAGA manikins, the Imperial President holds up for view his latest executive order. There is a grumpy look on his face, because he suspects that, somewhere, a sword of Damocles hangs over his head. But who is holding it? Not the Democrats. And certainly not the Republicans, who exist only to worship his very excrement. Why, oh why isn’t he happy?

Perhaps what we need are more executive orders, and as I write these words, even now they are coming into being:

Wind. We all know the Trumpster doesn’t like wind power. Now he tells us his is banning wind altogether. I hope you like your recent weather, because without wind to move those high and low pressure areas around, that’s what you’re going to be stuck with.

Floundering Father. Did you know that the Donald signed the Declaration of Independence in 1776 and the Constitution in … whenever it was? He was truly one of our Floundering Fathers.

Third Party. The Democrats do not appreciate him; and even the Republicans are becoming restive. Trumpian logic requires a new political party—the Trumpian party. Oh, and the two existing parties are being outlawed. Even now, ICE is rounding up the Communists and Traitors.

Trump House. Since he saw fit to add a perfect ballroom to the president’s mansion, it should be called the Trump House. White no more, the Trump House is now coated with a thin layer of 24 karat gold to match with the plumbing fixtures. Besides, who else will ever be in residence?

Deity. Henceforth, the Supreme Being will be referred to as Trump rather than God.

Trumpida. To honor his palatial Mar-a-Lardo residence, Trump is changing the name of the State of Florida to the State of Trumpida.

An Evening Prayer

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Sir Thomas Browne (1605-1682)

He was one of the greatest writers of prose in the English language. Religio Medici and essay “Hydriotaphia, or Urn Buriall” are my favorites among his works. The following comes from Religio Medici:”:

We term sleep a death; and yet it is waking that kills us, and destroys those spirits that are the house of life. ’Tis indeed a part of life that best expresseth death; for every man truely lives, so long as he acts his nature, or some way makes good the faculties of himself. Themistocles, therefore, that slew his Soldier in his sleep, was a merciful Executioner: ’tis a kind of punishment the mildness of no laws hath invented: I wonder the fancy of Lucan and Seneca did not discover it. It is that death by which we may be literally said to dye daily; a death which Adam dyed before his mortality; a death whereby we live a middle and moderating point between life and death: in fine, so like death, I dare not trust it without my prayers, and an half adieu unto the World, and take my farewell in a Colloquy with GOD.

And here is a devout prayer he wrote:

An Evening Prayer

THOU whose nature cannot sleep,
On my temples sentry keep;
Guard me ’gainst those watchful foes,
Whose eyes are open whilst mine close;
Let no dreams my head infest,
But such as Jacob’s temples blest.
While I do rest, my soul advance;
Make me to sleep a holy trance,
That I may, my rest being wrought,
Awake into some holy thought;
And with as active vigour run
My course, as doth the nimble sun.
Sleep is a death. Oh, make me try
By sleeping, what is it to die!
And as gently lay my head
On my grave, as now my bed.
Howe’er I rest, great God, let me
Awake again at last with Thee!
And thus assured, behold I lie
Securely, or to wake or die.

Sonchai Jitpleecheep

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Bangkok at Night

During this hottest summer of my life, I have entertained myself by reading all the Sonchai Jitpleecheep novels by John Burdett. Sonchai is a member of the Royal Thai Police, while at the same time serving as a pimp in the Soi Cowboy brothel run by his mother and his boss, Colonel Vikorn. In all, there are six novels in the series:

  • Bangkok 8 (2003), named for the Bangkok police district controlled by Colonel Vikorn
  • Bangkok Tattoo (2005)
  • Bangkok Haunts (2007), with the word “haunts” to be taken literally
  • The Godfather of Kathmandu (2009)
  • Vulture Peak (2011)
  • Bangkok Asset (2015)

I assume that, since no new titles have appeared in the last eleven years, that the series is complete.

Reading the novels, you get a great picture, not only of Bangkok, but of several other Asian countries as well, including Laos, Cambodia, Kathmandu, and Dubai. The picture that emerges of Bangkok is a crowded one, like the above photo, but one tempered by the Buddhism of Jitpleecheep in an atmosphere of outrageous criminality.

Burdett has also written several other books, which I will eventually evaluate—though I feel that the Bangkok novels are going to be tough to beat.

I have always loved reading mystery fiction set in other countries, such as the Inspector Ghote novels set in India by H.R.F. Keating; the Napoleon Bonaparte novels set in Australia by Arthur Upfield; the Mario Conde novels set in Castro’s Cuba by Leonardo Padura; the Inspector Espinosa novels set in Brazil by Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Rosa; and the Judge Dee novels set in Tang Dynasty China by Robert van Gulik. And that’s just to name a few.

When Will We Invade Canada?

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Maybe it’s the heat; maybe it’s the constant nibbling away by this administration at anything that makes sense. I just have this feeling that our Presidente, Donald Trump, is planning to invade Canada. He didn’t get his way by bullyragging Denmark to get Greenland. Maybe he figures that Canada, being right next to Greenland, would be even better bets to insure America’s “security.”

As the second term revenge tour continues apace, Trump is getting as nutty as Caligula and Heliogabalus combined. Is ICE his new Praetorian Guard? Will we have a new Presidential Election, or will the Donald generously insist on continuing on as Dictator for Life?

It surprises me to see the United States coming apart like a cheap suit. I guess that 250 years were all we were entitled to enjoy as a nation before becoming a shithole country.

The Supremes

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The Supreme Court Justices in 2022

I feel sorry for the three liberal members of the Supreme Court. They are trying their best to see that justice is done; the conservative members, on the other hand, are trying their best to see that the whims of Donald Trump are rigidly enacted into law.

This is nothing short of infamous. I keep thinking of the court of the damned in Stephen Vincent Benét’s story “The Devil and Daniel Webster.” They may have been convoked by the devil, but they actually produce a just verdict and free the New Hampshire farmer, Jabez Stone. The real-life Roberts court, on the other hand, will go down in history as having gamed the system to please the most unworthy president this country has ever had.

The fact that the judicial system of the United States can be gamed so readily indicates to me that the Constitution is badly in need of revision. Part of the gaming, however, is that three-fourths of the states—which are required for any amendments—will never accede to going against a totally corrupt president’s wishes. The thirteen states which could kill the amendment would be rural Southern and Midwestern states which, together, would constitute a small minority of the population of this country.

Unfortunately, the Founding Fathers of this country chose to mistrust the voters rather than the politicos.

What to do?

After the Trump madness is over with, the following justices should be pressured to resign: Clarence Thomas, John Roberts, Samuel Alito, Neil Gorsuch, Amy Coney Barrett, and Brett Kavanaugh. They are nothing less than traitors.