August 27, 2008 Leave a comment
Dear great fox in the cornfield,
I appreciate the new meaning attributed to my name. Before “compare” or “contrast,” Carla Fran has usually only meant “to mix wine with butter” or “to quit smoking, again.” As you can see in the title of this post, I am playing with what Millicent means to me.
Also, I was dazzled by your last letter. I still would like to defend Angie as Hera, only because I have always pictured Hera (probably due to an educational filmstrip, long ago) as a giant woman in the sky, with great eyebrows. Also, even though often pissed at Zeus, she seems to usually know what’s what, and be the brains behind the endeavor of their little mountain. I can see Angie planning Hera’s strange revenges. That is, if the whole saving the world thing grows old, the UN stops returning her calls (or vice versa) and she tries out a Norma Desmond-ish stage. However, your comparison to Leda is stunning, as is the mention of her attempts at Demeterishness and Athenaaity. I think you are correct on both accounts.
I also want to defend Anniston as our Penelope. While she is not literally weaving tapestries or placemats every night, I feel that her constant almost-marriages and walking around in front of the paprazzi in jeans, and her ” joyous but going through some shit and dealing just fine” glare/walk are her tapestries. US Weekly is her trusty servant in this endeavor. But the Hera thing works, too, perhaps citing Brad’s initial attraction to both women?
In other parts of my brain, I was thinking about the democratic convention. Driving home today, I heard the vote on the radio, and have deduced that our nation’s democrats might be drunk all day at this convention, and not on glee or hope for the future. They also kept announcing each “great state of _____” as the birthplace of so and so, and in my opinion none of the so and so’s were important enough to have their birthplace honored. Maybe they were playing a drinking game that I didn’t know the rules to, and which public radio couldn’t quite capture by sound alone.
My neighbor is laughing loudly at her television this evening–great hulks of laughter that shock me, then delight me, and then shock me again as they come through my window.
How are you?