Tag Archives: Eric Robert Nolan

Throwback Thursday: 80’s-era Scouting handbooks.

If you were a Scout in the 1980’s, then I’m sure you remember these.  Yes, I was a Scout for a while too, and I fully realize that will amuse a lot of people who know me.

I’m pretty sure I aced that whole Cub Scout gig, as its only real requirement was being polite to adults, along with maybe doing good deeds every now and then.  I did just fine at the “Webelos” stage too.  Being a Boy Scout, however, had many more requirements — they included, among other things, not dying of exposure.  And here was where the expectations of scouting at last exceeded my natural aptitudes.

So I wasn’t exactly John Rambo out there.  If the Boy Scouts had voted on superlative awards, then I’m pretty sure I would have won “Most Likely to Die in the Wilderness,” or maybe “Most Likely to Perish in a Fire He Inadvertently Started,” or maybe even “Most Likely to Arrive at a Girl Scout Meeting by Mistake.”

Oh, well. I had fun with it.

The painting on the Bot Scout Handbook below, by the way, is “Come and Get It” by Norman Rockwell.  Here’s some trivia for you — if you’re ever surprised by the sheer volume of the man’s paintings, that’s because he completed more than 4,000 in his lifetime.

[Update: I see that I misspelled “Boy Scout” as “Bot Scout” above, but I’m leaving it there because it’s funny.]

 

 

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“Hot Cop,” by Eric Robert Nolan

Hot Cop
protects the Pentagon.
She’s the Lovely Blue Line, people.
You sure can’t call it
“Homely Security.”
If glances were misdemeanors
I’d be a suspect.

(c) Eric Robert Nolan 2016

 

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“Blue Wolves Move in an Indigo Wood,” by Eric Robert Nolan

“Blue Wolves Move In An Indigo Wood”

               “Show me a sane man and I will cure him for you.”
— Carl Gustav Jung

All the colors are off —
Blue wolves move in an indigo wood
Their cobalt backs arrive, arising
Like coarse dorsal fins over
low-lying orange flora,
their beryl heads hung low — every
aquiline cerulean nose is angled down —
tracing the escape of a flaming hare —
their racing red rabbit has evaded them again.

Dreams leave all our long nights’ inner canvases
in singular tints and incongruous
strange iridescence.
Reason, here, is pariah.
Senses are its surrogates.
Vision its impostor
in the illogic’s ether:

Slow stars arc in scarlet.
Racing sable comets
make black wakes against
blinding white night.
A full moon rises in violet —
the fat and full and low-lying fruit of a
dark and overripe plum.

Yellow bucks bounce
high and away in the wolves’ wake —
sun-colored stags beat bright retreat
a running herd of burning gold —
all sunlit sinewed limbs and flashing hooves.

Flurries of green quail flutter,
flushed from fushia grasses —
alate bladed emeralds, blazing away.
The verdant birds burnish silhouettes —
angles on lunar lavender.

But ever all the blue wolves ignore the moon.
Each arrows forth in formation
ardently advancing —
oblivious to bucks and disregarding birds.
It’s the hare that they’re after —
its crimson prints
lure azure noses
and bait the ordered forward pace
of the great broad and blue padded paws.

In a surprising eloquence,
one predator’s head
rises and sonorously
sounds its disinterest.

“See, then, dreamer, see,
“what evades the lucid wit at dawn.
“The obvious moon is the obvious girl;
“your love is a glaring suggestion —
“as bare-faced and as common
“as a hundred thousand loves that came before — her face
“turning and facing away is as plain
“as a routine moonrise, but we,
“we are the Jungian Shadow.
“And our red hare is your red hare
“And hare for one and all.”

The predator’s head is an arrow —
its broad blue ears angle back
as its blue nose rises and scents.
And its voice is song.

“See then, dreamer, see
“what confounds the heart at noon.
“The stags to which we’re indifferent
“Are the heroes of your childhood.
“The flight of every bird is your every
“moment of loss, but we,
“we are the Jungian Shadow.
“And our red hare is your red hare
“and hare for one and all.”

Then the blue nose dips
to sniff the ground again
in the predator’s diligence. If
this wolf’s tones were physical,
they would be blue tears.

“See then, dreamer, see
“what escapes the brain at day, see,
“Arriving at your reservoir,
“that its pedestrian waters
“though shallow, still may drown
“in existential death, so rather
“hunt at its circumference
“the red of a Collective hope.
“We are the Jungian Shadow.
“And our red hare is your red hare
“and hare for one and all.”

Finally its eyes soften,
running from burning blue cobalt
to the warm sky-blue of hopeful new boyhood summers, and yet,
its sad irises reflect
a distant dancing red:
a spinning flame –a prancing hare.

“See, then, dreamer, see
“what renders your pain as prosaic —
“the racing red flame of the hare.
“It might have tempted Ovid once
“or pained the painters of caves,
“baiting them as their discovered fire
“first turned stone to a nocturnal
“canvas — the clay
“reddened their hands but they
“could only glimpse an inner quarry,
“as you glimpse it, now,
“turning away
“from your minutiae.”

“See, then, dreamer, see.
“See a universal grief
“and a shared catharsis
“rendered in red in your sleep:
“blood red, the color of prey,
“sunset red at end of day,
“flame, the color of pain
“and, yet, created light.

“See, then, dreamer, see.
“Hunt with us and hear our call.
“Our red hare is your red hare
“and hare for one and all.”

— (c) Eric Robert Nolan 2016

 

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Photo credit: Mathieu.S.Addison [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)%5D, with changes (colorization) by Eric Robert Nolan

My poem for a late March night.

I wrote this four years ago, during another insomniac March.

“March Midnight Window,” by Eric Robert Nolan

Cold glass.
One white palm against
A March midnight window.
The hour is struck.
In blackness an indistinct
Day is made another.

Clouds seclude the moon.
To those outside,
The lithe, pale “L” of my hand may be
An alabaster letter,
A sign to other sleepless.
Each, in eisegesis,
Divines its meaning in
Their own midnight hearts —
Whether love or loss I do not know.

(c) 2015 Eric Robert Nolan

 

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Photo credit: Nyttend [Public domain]

Throwback Thursday: “The Velveteen Rabbit,” by Margery Williams, 1922

Margery Williams’ “The Velveteen Rabbit” was another book that made a big impression on me when I was a young kid; I think I was given this when I was in kindergarten or the first grade.  It’s funny how memories can be bizarrely specific about some things, but silent about others — I know this was a birthday present, but I cannot remember from whom.

You can find the whole book online, complete with the original illustrations right here at the University of Pennsylvania Digital Library.

 

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A review of “Solo: A Star Wars Story” (2018)

Was “Solo: A Star Wars Story” (2018) really quite as bad as everyone said it was?

Yes, I do understand why it’s so maligned by “Star Wars” purists.  Han Solo has arguably been the entire franchise’s most memorable protagonist since his debut in its very first film in 1977.  (When we were kids and playing “Star Wars” in the street, how many of us wanted to be Luke Skywalker and how many of us wanted to be Han?)

Disney missed an opportunity to serve up what fans undoubtedly wanted — an edgy origin story that took risks to portray this famously wily criminal anti-hero.  What the studio gave us instead is a generally toothless, safe-for-primetime fable that even managed to become saccharine at times.  (You could argue that Luke’s origin story was far darker — he discovered the burned bodies of murdered aunt and uncle.  Then he studied magical martial arts with the mysterious mystic samurai-hermit who once fought wars with his absent father.)  “Solo” feels too much … like a Disney movie.

There are other problems too … its narrative is unfocused, it’s cluttered with too many characters, and, yes, it slavish attention to origin-story details is annoying.  (The how-Han-Solo-got-his-surname bit, for example, is indeed a big misfire.)

But “Solo” felt far more like an average film to me, instead of one that was truly terrible. I’d rate it a 6 out of 10 for being an acceptable, passably entertaining “Star Wars” entry.  It’s got a few things going for it.

It’s well cast, for one.  I was actually very surprised at how well actor Alden Ehrenreich captures the character of a young Han Solo.  They guy has natural charisma, and he seems to absolutely channel the character without once mimicking Harrison Ford.  You could do a lot worse.  Ehrenreich also has great chemistry with Chewbacca (Joonas Duotamo), and with Donald Glover, who equally shines in the role of a young Lando Clarissian.  If you put the three of them in a sequel with a leaner, darker screenplay aimed firmly at adults, it could be a truly great movie.  (Consider how lame the first “Captain America” movie was in 2011, and how its far darker 2014 sequel was so unexpectedly great.)

“Solo” also has great visual effects.  (All the newer “Star Wars” movies have come a long way from the clumsy, heavy handed CGI of the prequels.)  The Kessel Run sequences were especially good, and I’m still enough of a kid at heart to love those kind of dazzling set-pieces, even when they punctuate a lackluster script.

“Solo” was the sixth most expensive film ever made, at $392 million, and it was a complete commercial failure.  So I doubt we’ll ever see these versions of the characters again in theaters.  But what about television?  What about streaming services?  I, for one, would keep an open mind about whether Disney could do better with this film’s ingredients.

 

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A review of “The Purge” Season 1 (2018)

“The Purge” franchise continues to defy expectations after its move to television.  It still isn’t high art, and it probably can never fully transcend the high-camp trappings of its premise.  (I suppose it’s hard to script a truly grounded horror property about people in Halloween costumes murdering one another with impunity on a designated “holiday.”)  But, like the movies preceding it, the USA Network’s new dystopian horror show is still a bit smarter and more interesting you’d expect from its bizarre central plot conceit.

The 10-episode first season, which aired with seemingly little fanfare last fall, generally succeeds — I’d rate it an 8 out of 10, and I’ve spoken with a couple of other horror fan who were as happy with it as I was.  The people who recommended it to me are also big fans of AMC’s “The Walking Dead” (which has radically improved this season), and that makes sense.  Although “The Purge” has an entirely different feel than “The Walking Dead,” it also has a lot of common elements — both shows are milieu-type horror stories with a large, diverse group of characters negotiating a sprawling setting with innumerable deadly antagonists.

A surprising amount of thought went into this show.  There’s a nice degree of world-building and detail, with various characters embracing, rejecting or remaining ambivalent about the titular “Purge.”  The screenwriter here tries hard to round out the twisted America in which The Purge annually takes place, with a lot of creative and blackly cynical story elements.  (I’m not clear if the writer here is James DeMonaco, who wrote and directed the first three of the four “Purge” movies.)  We see, for example, a cult whose brainwashed members offer themselves up as willing murder victims, as well as anti-Purge revolutionaries who exploit the night to target the fascist oligarchical government which created the brutal holiday.  There are a lot of surprises in terms of plot, character and setting that I will not spoil here.

The gore and violence were surprisingly high for network television.  (Again, this show may be taking its cues from “The Walking Dead,” which always pushes the boundaries.)

Some of the acting is quite good — William Baldwin is absolutely superb, Lee Tergesen is always fun to watch, and the beautiful Hannah Emily Anderson is another talented standout.  I swore I recognized Fiona Dourif’s distinctive looks and mannerisms.  (She portrays the cunning cult leader who entices young people to sacrifice themselves, and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t totally look and sound the part.)  But, upon Googling her, I realized I’d never seen her before — she just reminds me of her father, who also plays a lot of bad guys — the amazing Brad Dourif.

Some of my enthusiasm for “The Purge” waned just a little as the season wound down toward its conclusion.  After Season 1’s unsettling ideas were left fully explored, the show did start to feel more like conventional television — right down to a standard good-guys-vs.-bad-guys shoot-em-up at its climax.  (If the show had fully sustained its tension until the end, I would have rated it a 9 out of 10.)  And the final minutes of Season 1 consist of a coda among three characters that is forced and preposterous … I’m surprised it made it past the editing stage.  But this still wasn’t enough to spoil the fun.

I should also note here that not everyone enjoyed “The Purge” as I and my friends did.  Critical and popular reaction to it is definitely mixed.  (As of this writing, the show has only a 42% rating from critics on Rotten Tomatoes, with just 63% of audiences liking it.)

Postscript — I could almost swear that the auditorium we see towards the end is the very same shooting location used for Thomas Smith’s school in “The Man in the High Castle.”  You can tell by the establishing shots.  It’s even lit the same way.

 

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The good news is — my 23andMe test results came back.

The bad news is — I’m one of those goddam heads from Easter Island.

#@%$.

This would at least explain my math skills.

 

 

4,445 Falsehoods.

That has a nice alliterative ring to it, doesn’t it?  It’s the count at which the Toronto Star has currently arrived  in its tally of Donald Trump’s false claims as president.

Why does it sound poetic?  Does it just remind me somehow of Martin Luther’s 95 Theses?

 

 

Subtracting Google+

Quick site update — if you happen to enjoy this here bloggity-type thing, and you’re following me on Google+, then please be aware that Google is shutting down that platform on April 2.  If you’re not a WordPress subscriber (and therefore can’t follow me in its newsfeed), then you can always just bookmark my site.  Or you can sign up for e-mail notifications with the button bottom left under the menu bar at this site.

Or, if it’s easier to follow me on social media, then you can find me on FacebookTwitter, Pinterest and LinkedIn.

Finally, my author’s page at Amazon.com is right here, and I also participate in the Goodreads Authors Program here.

I’m not really clear about why Google selected April 2 as a termination date for its social media platform.  (The 1st falls on a Monday.)  It occurs to me now that if they’d chosen April 1, then at least some people would think it was an April Fool’s Day joke.  (People see hoaxes and conspiraciese everywhere these days.)  I myself am looking forward to Jordan Peele’s reboot of “The Twilight Zone,” and that’s scheduled to debut on April 1.  But that show sounds too good to be true, and  at least part of me is suspicious that it’s all an elaborate April fool’s joke.

 

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