Another day, another dealership. This one was smaller, less impressive. You get used to these megadealerships, so when you go to a dinky cramped space you think "hey, what’s wrong with this car?" You don’t stop to think “wonder where all that money for the huge new buildings is coming from. The customers? Naaaah.”
The salesman said they were in fact building a bigger one nearby. It’s a popular car, despite having a bad reputation for being stolen by feral miscreants. (This, he assured me, has been dealt with - not by the cops, or judges doling out hard time, or social pressure, or changes in the culture, but by a software update.) My standard was still the pickup of the previous car I test-drove, and also the things about the dashboard interface I did not like. To reiterate: the screen, which of course I should not be looking at, ever, unless I have pulled over and put on my blinkers, even if I am in my own garage, ought not be sitting like an Etch-a-Sketch. It should be integrated into the dashboard. Then there's this.
It was the first thing I noticed when I got in the car, and I suspect it would be the thing I noticed all the time, and had to train myself to ignore.
Car #2 had a better interface all around. Did it have the same get-up-and-go? It did not. But it had more than my car and seemed happy to provide it. There was a little bit of oh you want that much? Okay I got this, which is different from here is the power and speed I assume you want. It's subtle, but you feel it.
Wanting "instant accelleration" is a funny thing in a city with a 20MPH speed limit, I know.
Yes, 20. Except where posted. There are lawn signs in the neighborhood that say "20 Is Plenty." That's five times faster than a walking horse, after all. If you do 25, people are annoyed by sonic booms and the incessant din of collipding cars and finding pounds of shattered plastic on your boulevard. Buut 20 - which of course is observed by all, except the people in black Chargers blowing thorugh red lights - has changed everything.
Car #2 isn't a sci-fi car like the other one, but it has style. I've one more to look at. Car #3 is not as sleek as the others, but there's something about it I like. It reminds me of a MiniCooper, except burlier. I used to like MiniCoopers but everything I see one the driver is an elderly Weeble.
After the test drive I walked Birch, who finds this monochrome world a canvas of infinite variety. His nose takes him up to the water tower, down the block, off to the left, through an alley that once had a scrap of food by a bin four years ago. Once home I cleaned out some stuff in the storage closet. Large old career-oriented things that need not be saved.
I mean, it's bound for the trash at some point.
The sign, not the subject. Although now that I think about it . . .
The winnowing has been therapeutic. On Sunday night I did "Expired dog medicine drawer" in the closet, as well as the drawer of flashlights. The batteries expired in 2019. The light was wan, shall we say. The maglight was completely dead and reverted to its default use as a murder weapon.
The trademarks of a 100 years ago is our theme this year.
Apparently it took a while to approve them, because Mr. Sexton et al had been waiting for two years for this:
This year we'll be looking at very early movies, as provided by your Library of Congress. How did they design the shots? How quickly did the medium advance? Any inadvertant documentary?
We begin with . . .
First we have an interminable scene of the Farmer gathering the grain he will plant. The family looks on, gravely.
Then we go to the office of the Wheat King, where his toadies and underlings await his genius scheme to . . . corner the Wheat Market!
Count the people in the scene. How many do you see?
One by one they leave . . .
In the back by the door. Manservant? Telephone answerer?
A boisterous scene in the trading pit, where we see one man RUINED:
Back at the office, the door-guy hasn’t moved.
Then it’s time for the 1% to have a lavish banquet . .
Cross-cutting with the store, where the Poor cannot afford their bread. A sign announcing the price increase has been helpfully placed off to the side where no one can see it.
Then there’s a bread riot:
Boy, you hate that Wheat King! Now we go to the mill:
The set is painted. The Wheat King gets a telegram:
Dear sir: you control the world's market!
Moment of Triumph! Alas, his happy gyrations cause him to lose his balance . ..
He's dumped down into the grain. O THE IRONY
They get him out, but he’s probably a goner. Look at this Renaissance composition:
The farmer, meanwhile, is planting again. Life goes on.
The Wheat King actor, by the way, was big in early cinema. His wikipedia page notes that he fell off the edge of the world at some point, and no one knows when, or where, he died.
The Director: D. W. Griffith.
That will do. Another week begins here at the Bleat with your usual Matchbook update, and a free column at the Substack. Enjoy your day!
