All posts by Eric Robert Nolan

Eric Robert Nolan graduated from Mary Washington College in 1994 with a Bachelor of Science in Psychology. He spent several years a news reporter and editorial writer for the Culpeper Star Exponent in Culpeper, Virginia. His work has also appeared on the front pages of numerous newspapers in Virginia, including The Free Lance – Star and The Daily Progress. Eric entered the field of philanthropy in 1996, as a grant writer for nonprofit healthcare organizations. Eric’s poetry has been featured by Dead Beats Literary Blog, Dagda Publishing, The International War Veterans’ Poetry Archive, and elsewhere. His poetry will also be published by Illumen Magazine in its Spring 2014 issue.

It’s Nolan’s ROCKIN’ New Year’s Eve!!

Starring ME!  MYSELF!  AND I!  The spirits of my deceased ancestors!  The painting behind me!  Which I myself would not have selected!! (Sorry, Mom.)  Ben!  And Jerry!!  Or, rather, their eponymous product!!  Nirvana, via my playlist!!  Whatever godforsaken animal that is at the house across the street that is howling so grotesquely!!  (It’s either one of those new “coywolves,” or a depressed Lycan, or a wounded goddam Hound of the Baskervilles; I’m not sure.  You kinda don’t expect that in New York.)

My trip home was arranged on the fly; I didn’t contact a single high school friend.  This is the fruit of my lack of foresight.

I might just resurrect my childhood imaginary friend Kachoual.  He was a Bengal tiger, and goddam huge.  I’d be less wigged out about the geographically incongruous hellhound I’m hearing.

Oh, well — four minutes!  Happy New Year!!!

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Wishing you the best of things to come.

Friends near and far, I wish you a Happy New Year!  I hope that 2016 brings you peace, safety, love and wonder.

The picture below is “New Year’s Eve Foxfires at the Changing Tree, Oji,” by Utagawa Hiroshige.  It’s part of his “One Hundred Famous Views of Edo,” a series of prints completed between 1856 and 1859.  I’m unfamiliar with the mythology connected with it, but it depicts foxes breathing fire at Shōzoku Inari Shrine (site of the Changing Tree) in Ōji, Tokyo.

It’s quite beautiful, and tonight it just felt right.  This is a contemplative New Year’s Eve for me, as I’ve been haunting my childhood neighborhood after visiting family in New York.  And I described for my mother at length how beautiful was the fox I found playing along the stream I so often pass down in Virginia.

 

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The James Zadroga Act has been renewed by Congress!

This is just a quick word to congratulate 9/11 First Responders on the renewal of the James Zadroga Act, which will now continue affording them access to healthcare for illnesses resulting from their heroic service.  The police, firefighters and other emergency personnel lobbied hard for years to have the act extended, so that they could get the lifesaving medical care that they deserved after their incredible commitment to saving and protecting their fellow citizens.

The law was renewed on December 18th, permanently extending healthcare benefits via the World Trade Center Health Program, while extending the September 11th Victims Compensation Fund for another five years.

If you know somebody who is a First Responder, please send along the good news, and thank them again for their bravery on behalf of their family, friends and neighbors.

For more information, please see Citizens for the Extension of the James Zadroga Act here:

Citizens for the Extension of the James Zadroga Act

For some background about 9/11 First Responders’ need to lobby for this critically needed law, and Jon Stewart’s advocacy on their behalf, there’s an excellent December 23rd article in the Huffington Post here:

“Why Jon Stewart Fought So Hard for 9/11 Responders,” by Michael McAuliff

 

It’s why they call him “The Governor” and not “The General.”

AMC’s “The Walking Dead” marathon helpfully reminds us tonight that people will be really stupid in a zombie apocalypse.

I have no military experience whatsoever, but I know that an invading force should disperse, seek cover and to try to present an opposing force with moving targets instead of stationary targets.

I also have a pretty good idea that I would not send the entirety of my forces through a single entrance and down a single corridor, and then congregate them in what looks like one enclosed space.

However, I could never make an eye-patch (or batshit crazy, for that matter) look as good as he does.

 

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A quick review of “Containment” (2015)

“Containment” (2015) is the film that sounds cliche but isn’t.  It’s a surprisingly fresh take on an old standby — diverse people isolated by an outside threat are forced to cope and survive with each other, along with the threat.  In this case, an entire apartment block in Britain is forcibly and mysteriously quarantined overnight; residents awaken to sealed doors and hazardous materials units being deployed along the grounds.

But this is a smartly written independent sci-fi thriller that avoids a lot of common tropes.  Then it introduces plot developments that are unexpected, yet make perfect sense.  It’s more original than you’d guess at first.

There’s a lot of nice acting, including work by Lee Ross, and by Louise Brealey of “Sherlock” (2010) fame.  And all those moody establishing shots of the tomb-quiet building were creepily effective.

My only complaint was a thematically ambiguous ending that seemed lost on me.  But I’d still give this an 8 out of 10.

 

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Check out these poems by Scott Thomas Outlar.

My new friend Scott Thomas Outlar has published three new pieces over at Winamop, and they’re damned good.

I especially like “Mixology.”

Read them here:  http://winamop.com/sto1500.htm

Today’s thoughts:

Rainy days make New York an occasionally rude London.

If I develop dyslexia at 43, that makes me 34 years old.

Reading glasses make me look responsible.  That makes them an effective disguise.  So Clark Kent had it right all along.

Chicken pot pies are damned good.  Is it weird if I am vocal about that?

I really ought to finish my Christmas shopping.  Tonight, definitely.

That one dude in “Star Wars” looks like Oscar Wilde.  Seriously.

 

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My spoiler-free review of “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” (2015)

This review of “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” will be necessarily brief, for fear of spoilers.  And when I say “fear of spoilers,” I really do mean FEAR of spoilers.  There are people out there who will burn your house down if you ruin this long-awaited film’s surprises.

I really liked it.  I would somewhat grudgingly give it a 9 out of 10, as I can’t match the sheer ardor of its global legions of fans.  (Yes, “Star Wars” was a big part of my childhood, but I have more or less gotten over it.  I read last night, for example, that filmmaker Kevin Smith actually cried upon stepping aboard the Millennium Falcon when he visited the set; I am not quite as nostalgic as that.)

In short, it absolutely succeeds as a fun space fantasy, and recaptures the spirit of the original “Holy Trilogy.”  It easily surpasses the much-maligned prequels on nearly every level, including screenwriting, acting and special effects.  The predominance of practical effects over those that are exclusively digital make this movie’s universe feel “real” and “lived in.”

We finally have relatable characters again who sound real, and who can invite viewer sympathy.  The dramatic interaction among our newer heroes and returning icons is both logical and emotionally involving.  I was surprised at how well this movie handled the passing of the torch.  It was a kind of skilled storytelling that was almost entirely absent from the last three films.  And the special effects were top notch.

My only mild quibbles might reflect a greater degree of objectivity that you might hear from someone who is not a raging fan of the series.  This film so closely parallels the original “Star Wars” (1977) that at times it started to feel like a remake.  Were the similarities in structure, characters, plot points, planets and villains all an intentional homage?  I suggest that our bad guys here, for example, sometimes feel interchangeable with those of past “Star Wars” films.  I want to say more, but can’t, because of spoilers.  Am I the only person who noticed these things?

I also submit that, like a few other “Star Wars” movies, our characters are rendered with little depth, with sparse information about their skills, motivations, backgrounds or ideosyncrasies.  The dialogue is thin.  Consider lines like “He’s my friend!” and “Because it’s the right thing to do.”   And we are presented with no information about why the speaker here is so noble, when others are not.  Even if the screenwriting here is better than the prequels, it’s still not Tennessee Williams.

It’s all very forgivable, I guess, just so long as the viewer remembers that they’re sitting down to an installment in a film franchise originally intended for young people.  It’s kid stuff.  It’s really, really good kid stuff, but it’s kid stuff.  (Don’t burn my house down!)

And the reason I chose a 9 rating instead of an 8 was primarily the enjoyment I got from seeing familiar faces.  The return of our icons was surprisingly well depicted and, if you loved “Star Wars” as a kid, then that should be enough to make this a “must-see” movie.

 

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Publication Notice: Dead Snakes features “On Donald Trump”

I’m pleased to say that Dead Snakes has featured my short poem, “On Donald Trump.”

You can find it right here: “On Donald Trump,” by Eric Robert Nolan

As always, a big thanks to Editor Stephen Jarrell Williams!

This poem has been rattling around in my brain …

… since maybe two weeks preceding Christmas, like a frequent, intermittent ghost.  I have no idea why.

Now it’s yours.

“Gonzalo”

—  from W. H. Auden’s “The Sea and the Mirror”

Evening, grave, immense, and clear,
Overlooks our ship whose wake
Lingers undistorted on
Sea and silence; I look back
For the last time as the sun
Sets behind that island where
All our loves were altered: yes,
My prediction came to pass,
Yet I am not justified,
And I weep but not with pride.
Not in me the credit for
Words I uttered long ago
Whose glad meaning I betrayed;
Truths to-day admitted, owe
Nothing to the councilor
In whose booming eloquence
Honesty became untrue.
Am I not Gonzalo who
By his self-reflection made
Consolation an offence?

There was nothing to explain:
Had I trusted the Absurd
And straightforward note by note
Sung exactly what I heard,
Such immediate delight
Would have taken there and then
Our common welkin by surprise,
All would have begun to dance
Jigs of self-deliverance.
It was I prevented this,
Jealous of my native ear,
Mine the art which made the song
Sound ridiculous and wrong,
I whose interference broke
The gallop into jog-trot prose
And by speculation froze
Vision into an idea,
Irony into a joke,
Till I stood convicted of
Doubt and insufficient love.

Farewell, dear island of our wreck:
All have been restored to health,
All have seen the Commonwealth,
There is nothing to forgive.
Since a storm’s decision gave
His subjective passion back
To a meditative man,
Even reminiscence can
Comfort ambient troubles like
Some ruined tower by the sea
Whence boyhoods growing and afraid
Learn a formula they need
In solving their mortality,
Even rusting flesh can be
A simple locus now, a bell
The Already There can lay
Hands on if at any time
It should feel inclined to say
To the lonely – “Here I am,”
To the anxious – “All is well.”

 

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