The Art of Poverty

     One of the amusing paradoxes of our times is the fact that when you are making money often you don’t have time to spend it. And when you have time, you don’t have money to spend... I guess that’s why “normal” people take little vacations and drop obscene amounts of money in that short window of time they have to do it. I’ve found from experience that there is something just a little mystical about being a bit impoverished. Not saying it’s an experience to strive for, if you strive for it – it’s easy enough to get, or want as it is hard, but...  Lots of great writers went through it: Jack Kerouac, George Orwell, and my personal hero: Henry Miller. They used the experience to drive their prose. What is it about getting to the end of one’s tether with money that so often is the impedes of art?

    Poverty and the serene aren’t mutually exclusive. Now I should establish that I can speak on this issue having been near rock bottom before during my travels a couple of times in the UK, Australia, and the Netherlands. Each of these times I found that life became so much more serene. Bear with me, you must be wondering what the fuck is this guy going on about...?  I’ll explain. When beyond a lark, ones means of securing food and shelter come into question those two issues eventually become the only issues. There’s a comfort in that. The secondary concerns, the concerns I would say often feel like the daily strangle hold, those such as: relationship issues, questions of self, that nagging question: what to do with my life..., all fade away. That is where the serenity comes into play – pure focus on meeting these goals is a focus unlike any other. There is no time to contemplate the deeper concerns; poverty is a reprieve from the questions of self.

Movie Review: "Conan the Barbarian"

“Conan the Barbarian” (1 out of 6 Stars)

   After only thirty years Robert E Howard’s “Conan the Barbarian” comes to us again. The original “Conan the Barbarian” starring a young Arnold Schwarzenegger was a far superior film that had an epic quality. This version is just a tedious revenge film minimal on story, character, and intrigue.

   In Cimmeria the Northern Lands of the mythical world of Hibernia Conan is born “literally” right on a battle field.  By ten years old Conan, already a junior killing machine, has his world turned upside down when war lord Khalar Zim comes to his village in search of a mysterious mask. This mask, for reasons left a little vague, will give Zim the ultimate power to rule Hibernia. Escaping, but seeing his father and his tribe slaughtered before him Conan swears vengeance. The rest of the film an older Conan, played by hulking Hawaiian Jason Momoa : chases Zim, fights Zim, chases Zim, fights in quick succession Zim’s chief lieutenants, chases Zim, then fights Zim again. Mix in Tamara (Rachel Nichols) - Conan’s love interest - a beautiful girl, whose blood is needed to complete Zim’s ritual with the mask, and you have the essential cliché components for a run of the mill, boorish summer release.

    My verdict is that you should skip this one. If you are interested in Sword and Sorcery check out Momoa’s other project HBO’s “Game of Thrones” instead. “Game of Thrones” has the epic feel that Conan wishes it could emulate combined with a more interesting, realistic fantasy world. If you still choose to see Conan despite my misgivings the only saving graces are “decent”, but over wrought action sequences and a nice aesthetic look for Hibernia.

    In earnest, I found myself wanting the last fight, which went on and on..., to just end so I could leave the theatre. Not a good sign for any film. Only check this out if mindless action is your thing. I can’t recommend this to fans of the Conan franchise either as this felt more like Hollywood’s Hibernia then anything Robert E Howard would have envisioned.

Maybe a Red Corvette

    Yesterday I achieved one of my life goals by seeing Prince perform live outdoors in Copenhagen. He was everything I knew he would be – a little singing, dancing purple dynamo... one part entertainer, another part little perfectionist general. Mid song, he would bark out orders to the sound engineer: “guitar down... more, please. “ Then pause... “I said guitar down – it isn’t happening yet. Guitar down, and raise the microphone.” A moment later he would be handing his guitar away and going to the drums to play for a bit, then the keyboard... The purple one was everywhere, a whirling dervish of mascara, high notes, and dry one liners. The majority of the show was an elaborate jam with his trademark funky grooves pouring over the crowd of flailing bodies. A Danish friend described the crowd right then as “hyggeligt” the unique Danish word for comfortable or cozy. It was...



“Nothing I love more than a warm summer night” says Prince as a real sexy mellow grove begins.”Uwwwwww... (in his trade mark high pitched voice) better not sing that. Someone’s going to end up pregnant.” The entire crowd burst out laughing. Another memorable one liner: “You’ve got to stand for something, or else you'll fall for everything.” All night he was playing to the crowd - in one moment hilarious and the next cool. He looked young too; if this guy is 50 either he has found the fountain of youth or got a little touch up surgery.  



Two hours plus of music hit its Crescendo with a rousing rendition of Purple Rain. With arms around my friends we sang every word. It seemed the show was over; an appropriate, if not a little cliché..., end had been reached. The stage went dark the curtain had fallen... but, NO it wasn’t done. The silence broke and that cheeky little voice was back on the microphone. “You didn't think we I leaving yet. Did ya? What y’all want to hear...? You can tell me. Uh, uh, uh... not all at once, I can’t make out 20,000 suggestions. I know it’s tough... we got so many hits!” People laugh but the funniest thing was that he wasn’t lying - he has to many hits to pick from. I was a little sad "Raspberry Beret" didn't have its time in the sun. Alas...



The last song of the night ended up being an extended version of “Kiss.” He let people from in front of the stage come up and dance. People came close to his backup singers. One girl even shared the microphone with one of them but no one had the nerve to try that with Prince. How could they...?, he still has undeniable star power, it seeps off him, and coming close enough to touch is just something that isn't done - it defies any international conception of good manners. The show tailed off with crackling fireworks as the band played on. I heard later Prince had arranged an after party so he could play even more. This man loves music, he lives and personifies it. His voice still hits the high notes with his trademark uhhhhhs and uwwwwws... He was, and still is, a true legend. This morning the sweet residue of a good night remained. “Maybe a Red Corvette, uwww, uwwww... this love is happening to fast....