Notes for November 8, 2024.

November 8, 2024. Day .

If you ever hear me grumbling about not being able to find my reading glasses, remind me I found three pairs under the head of my bed this morning.

Greetings from Asbury Park N.J. is a top-notch Bruce Springsteen album, especially if you consider how new his sound was when the album came out. Nothing like it. It's great top to bottom.

Except for "Mary, Queen of Arkansas". Bruce, what were you thinking? Surely you had something else on tape. Did you need the art-cred that bad?

Still soft-boycotting NPR and boycotting The New York Times altogether. As soon as they day after the election, they started giving us their expert opinions on why the Harris campaign failed. But, why is that news now, and not before the election? If you knew so much about the American people, why not write it before the election, and save us all the trouble of voting. I just can't stand to listen to the news or read it right now.

I'll listen to the top-of-the-hour news on NPR if it happens to coincide with me going to the bathroom, just to make sure no Presidents-Elect have died of a heart attack overnight, or no Putins have unleashed tactical nukes on Ukraine, but that's it. I don't even want to hear the local news because it's so depressing. In Louisiana, we're governed by the stupidest, most ass-kissing fifth-grader you can remember.

Speaking of tactical nukes (as I have not been doing for the past, oh, four years), I saw a terrifying movie called The War Game last night. Just 46 minutes long, which was long enough. It was produced and directed by Peter Watkins for the BBC in 1966, but it was not released for broadcast, because it was too terrifying. It's a matter-of-fact documentary about what might happen if a tactical nuclear weapon (you know, just a little-bitty one) struck near a sparsely populated part of England.

You won't like the answer. It is makeup, of course, but the wounded people and the bodies are so realistic and believable. I fear some of the actors (mainly Dover townspeople, not professionals) had nightmares or PTSD from being in it.

Trey asked me how it compared to The Day After. The Day After left a permanent mark on me; I think everyone my age has some background fear of nuclear conflict. But it had a hopeful ending, and just the way it was made, it was easy to back up and say "hey, this is just a movie". There's really no political propagandizing I can see in The War Game. There's no "If we stick together we can get through this", instead there are firing squads of cops to deal with "looters" (survivors). It's awful long after the bombs stop falling.

You can watch The War Game for free on the Internet Archive.

I deactivated my Twitter, but I'm thinking about reactivating it. My twitter account is my name (davidrhoden), and I understand deactivated names can be given out again, almost certainly to bots. I'd like to avoid that as long as I'm alive.

Did I dream that I mansplained Alvin Kamara's salary structure to someone, or did I really do that? I'm going to go with "I dreamed it", because I don't know anything about Alvin Kamara's salary, really.

(But in general, running backs get paid less than other stars because they are more replaceable.)

And here's last night's very November sunset, seen from the levee.

New York Times NPR Bruce Springsteen _Greetings from Asbury Park N.J._ Mary, Queen of Arkansas reading glasses Twitter The War Game Peter Watkins The Day After sunsets