The Guy Quote – Ambrose Bierce

Famously cynical, withering in his criticism, survivor – and hero – of more than one deadly battle, Ambrose Bierce was an American journalist, short story writer and satirist. In 1913, by then an elderly man, he also famously, mysteriously, disappeared.

He’s perhaps most famous for his short story An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge and for his satirical lexicon The Devil’s Dictionary, while his motto “nothing matters” earned him the nickname “Bitter Bierce”.

Born in 1842 to parents who, though poor, instilled in him a love for books and for writing, he was the tenth of thirteen children (each of whose name began with ‘A’- in order of birth they were Abigail, Amelia, Ann, Addison, Aurelius, Augustus, Almeda, Andrew, Albert, Ambrose, Arthur, Adelia, and Aurelia. He left home at 15 to work on an Ohio newspaper.

He fought for the Union from the outset of the American Civil War. As well as fighting in “the first battle” at Philippi and rescuing, under fire, a wounded comrade at Rich Mountain, he fought at the Battle of Shiloh in 1862 – a terrifying experience he later drew on for short stories and his memoir. In 1864, he sustained a bad head wound. He was, in short, no wallflower.

Even if you put his war experience – and the trouble his wounds caused him later in life – to one side, he had reason enough to be cantankerous and sardonic. Married in 1871, he separated from his wife in 1888 when he found letters to her from an admirer. The following year, his son Day was shot dead in a brawl over a woman. Two years after that, his remaining son Leigh died from pneumonia brought about by alcoholism.

By the time he was married, however, he was already a prolific and successful writer. As well as writing for newspapers and periodicals both in the US and in England, he wrote ghost stories, short stories, war stories, poems…you name it. All with a very pure, economical style. The Devil’s Dictionary is still quoted a lot today (and probably will be below, too).

In 1913, at the age of 71, he set off for Mexico to see the Pancho Villa revolution for himself. He wrote the following letters to his niece before he left, and was never heard from again.

Dear Lora,

I go away tomorrow for a long time, so this is only to say good-bye. I think there is nothing else worth saying; therefore you will naturally expect a long letter. What an intolerable world this would be if we said nothing but what is worth saying! And did nothing foolish — like going into Mexico and South America.

I’m hoping that you will go to the mine soon. You must hunger and thirst for the mountains — Carlt [her husband, Carlton] likewise. So do I. Civilization be dinged! — It is the mountains and the desert for me.

Good-by — if you hear of my being stood up against a Mexican stone wall and shot to rags please know that I think that a pretty good way to depart his life. It beats old age, disease, or falling down the cellar stairs. To be a Gringo in Mexico — ah, that is euthanasia!

With love to Carlt, affectionately yours,

Ambrose

Lora received another short letter from Bierce on November 6 of that same year, reporting that he was in Laredo, Texas. The letter concluded: “I shall not be here long enough to hear from you, and don’t know where I shall be next. Guess it doesn’t matter much. Adios, Ambrose.”

Doubt, indulged and cherished, is in danger of becoming denial; but if honest, and bent on thorough investigation, it may soon lead to full establishment of the truth.

Immortality: A toy which people cry for, And on their knees apply for, Dispute, contend and lie for, And if allowed Would be right proud Eternally to die for.

I believe we shall come to care about people less and less. The more people one knows the easier it becomes to replace them. It’s one of the curses of London.

“Peyton Fahrquhar was dead; his body, with a broken neck, swung gently from side to side beneath the timbers of the Owl Creek bridge.”
From An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge

A person who doubts himself is like a man who would enlist in the ranks of his enemies and bear arms agains himself. He makes his failure certain by himself being the first person to be convinced of it.

War is God’s way of teaching Americans geography.

Heathen, n. A benighted creature who has the folly to worship something that he can see and feel.

Bore, n.: A person who talks when you wish him to listen.

Dawn: When men of reason go to bed.

Philosophy: A route of many roads leading from nowhere to nothing.

Twice: Once too often.

Christian, n.: one who believes that the New Testament is a divinely inspired book admirably suited to the spiritual needs of his neighbor.

All are lunatics, but he who can analyse his delusion is called a philosopher.

Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.

There is nothing new under the sun but there are lots of old things we don’t know.

We know what happens to people who stay in the middle of the road. They get run over.

Marriage, n: the state or condition of a community consisting of a master, a mistress, and two slaves, making in all, two.

Impiety. Your irreverence toward my deity.

The small part of ignorance that we arrange and classify we give the name of knowledge.

What this country needs what every country needs occasionally is a good hard bloody war to revive the vice of patriotism on which its existence as a nation depends.

There are four kinds of Homicide: felonious, excusable, justifiable, and praiseworthy.

To apologize is to lay the foundation for a future offense.

When you doubt, abstain.

Who never doubted, never half believed. Where doubt is, there truth is – it is her shadow.

To be positive is to be mistaken at the top of one’s voice.

Sweater, n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly.

Mad, adj. Affected with a high degree of intellectual independence.

Death is not the end. There remains the litigation over the estate.

Success is the one unpardonable sin against our fellows.

Day, n. A period of twenty-four hours, mostly misspent.

Edible, adj.: Good to eat, and wholesome to digest, as a worm to a toad, a toad to a snake, a snake to a pig, a pig to a man, and a man to a worm.

The best thing to do with the best things in life is to give them up.

Cogito cogito ergo cogito sum (I think that I think, therefore I think that I am.)

Love: A temporary insanity curable by marriage.

Corporation: An ingenious device for obtaining profit without individual responsibility.

The covers of this book are too far apart.

You are not permitted to kill a woman who has wronged you, but nothing forbids you to reflect that she is growing older every minute. You are avenged 1440 times a day.

The gambling known as business looks with austere disfavor upon the business known as gambling.

An egotist is a person of low taste – more interested in himself than in me.

Miss, n. A title with which we brand unmarried women to indicate they are in the market. Miss, Misses (Mrs.) and Mister (Mr.) are the three most distinctly disagreeable words in the language, in sound and sense. Two are corruptions of Mistress, the other of Master. In the general abolition of social titles in this our country they miraculously escaped to plague us. If we must have them let us be consistent and give one to the unmarried man. I venture to suggest Mush, abbreviated to Mh.

Infidel, n. In New York, one who does not believe in the Christian religion; in Constantinople, one who does.

In our civilization, and under our republican form of government, intelligence is so highly honored that it is rewarded by exemption from the cares of office.

Peace in international affairs: a period of cheating between periods of fighting.

It is evident that skepticism, while it makes no actual change in man, always makes him feel better.

To men a man is but a mind. Who cares
What face he carries or what form he wears?
But woman’s body is the woman. O,
Stay thou, my sweetheart, and do never go,
But heed the warning words the sage hath said:
A woman absent is a woman dead.

Lawsuit: A machine which you go into as a pig and come out of as a sausage.

Sabbath – a weekly festival having its origin in the fact that God made the world in six days and was arrested on the seventh.

Hippogriff, n. An animal (now extinct) which was half horse and half griffin. The griffin was itself a compound creature, half lion and half eagle. The hippogriff was actually, therefore, only one-quarter eagle, which is two dollars and fifty cents in gold. The study of zoology is full of surprises.

Plagiarism, n. A literary coincidence compounded of a discreditable priority and an honorable subsequence.

Marriage, n: the state or condition of a community consisting of a master, a mistress, and two slaves, making in all, two.

Mark how my fame rings out from zone to zone:
A thousand critics shouting: “He’s unknown!”

Be as decent as you can. Don’t believe without evidence. Treat things divine with marked respect — don’t have anything to do with them. Do not trust humanity without collateral security; it will play you some scurvy trick. Remember that it hurts no one to be treated as an enemy entitled to respect until he shall prove himself a friend worthy of affection. Cultivate a taste for distasteful truths. And, finally, most important of all, endeavor to see things as they are, not as they ought to be.

Woman would be more charming if one could fall into her arms without falling into her hands.


Find out lots more about Bierce by following the links at the bottom of this page.

If you liked this piece, there’s a load more of The Guy Quote articles here.

Tip of the hat and a thankyewverymuch to Olly Figg, who suggested Bierce in the first place.

So do I win a prize or what?

…and this despite the fact I spend my life deleting and unsubscribing.

Current theme tune

…the vocals aren’t that far off either.

Jimmy Smith (December 8, 1928 February 8, 2005) was a jazz musician whose performances on the Hammond B-3 electric organ helped to popularize this instrument. In 2005, Smith was awarded the NEA Jazz Masters Award from the National Endowment for the Arts, the highest honors that the United States bestows upon jazz musicians.

While the electric organ was used in jazz by Fats Waller and Count Basie, Smith’s virtuoso improvisation technique on the Hammond helped to popularize the electric organ as a jazz and blues instrument. For ballads, he played walking bass lines on the bass pedals. For uptempo tunes, he would play the bass line on the lower manual and use the pedals for emphasis on the attack of certain notes, which helped to emulate the attack and sound of a string bass.

Okay, one more because he’s just TOO good:

Ultimate Social Media Cheat Sheet

Click to enlarge. Tip of the hat to Slevin at Superexcited.

Terms of endearment (professional wrestling)

[this picture] is of a Promotion of mine at Feltham Assembly Rooms, Felthem, Middlesex. There you can see a Tag match with Dino Scarlo and his Dad against Bob Taylor and Paul Knight and it bought the house down. They were really good and got some terrific heat going there the audience loved it. One problem was that it was a charity do and the Mayor and his Lady were there and I was on with Jim Martell from Engelfield Green and during the bout he aimed me through the ropes and I ended up going over and getting ny neck caught between the middle and top rope. As I am hanging there and they are trying to get me out the Mayoress fainted and luckily had a St Johns Ambulance chap there on duty who managed to bring her round and sort it out, and the show went on after they left. The one good thing there was that my pal a Publican got the license to run the bar there and we made a nice few bob that way, including everyone getting paid. We raised a fair sum and it was later presented to the Mayor but I have lost the newspaper cutting of it.

Above image and copy is from Rik Sands, on the British Wrestlers’ Reunion page – well worth going there, it has some great old photos and stories.

And then below, the following is extracted from the Wikipedia glossary of common wrestling terms:

Alignment – the personality type used by wrestlers. For example, if they are a babyface, they are said to be “face-aligned”. See also heel and tweener.

Angle – a fictional storyline. An angle usually begins when one wrestler attacks another (physically or verbally), which results in revenge.[2] An angle may be as small as a single match or a vendetta that lasts for years. It is not uncommon to see an angle become retconned due to it not getting “over” with the fans, or if one of the wrestlers currently involved in the angle is released from his contract.

Babyface – a good guy. (Referred to as a Blue-Eye in British Wrestling.) See also heel and tweener

Bump – when a wrestler hits the mat or ground. A flat back bump is a bump in which a wrestler lands solidly on his back with high impact, spread over as much surface as possible. A phantom bump occurs when a wrestler or referee takes a bump even though the move they are selling was visibly botched or otherwise not present.[1] Phantom bumps are most commonly performed when the offensive wrestler is new.

Burial (or Bury) – refers to the worked lowering (relegation) of a popular wrestler’s status in the eyes of the fans. It is the act of a promoter or booker causing a wrestler to lose popularity by forcing him to lose in squash matches, continuously, and/or participate in unentertaining or degrading storylines. It can be a form of punishment for real-life backstage disagreements or feuds between the wrestler and the booker, the wrestler falling out of favor with the company, or the wrestler receiving an unpopular gimmick that causes him to lose credibility regardless of win-loss record. It is also a result of a company seeing a wrestler as having no potential or charisma. The term can also be applied to a wrestling company that jumps the shark, rapidly loses ratings, fans, and finally becomes bankrupt. Some notable pro wrestling personnel that are notoriously synonymous with burying include Triple H, Kevin Nash and Hulk Hogan.

Carny – a language used by wrestlers to talk to each other around people not associated with the business so they would not understand what they were saying, often used to keep the secrets of the business (see kayfabe).

Claret – to draw blood. Especially in UK Professional Wrestling. A promoter might say “I want some claret in this match”.

Finisher – a wrestler’s signature move that leads to a finish. Some Finishers Include Randy Orton‘s RKO, Eddie Guerrero‘s Frog Splash, John Cena‘s Attitude Adjustment, or Diamond Dallas Page’s “Diamond Cutter” This can be a unique move entirely (like Razor Ramone’s Inverted Crucifix) or a known standard move with a new name. A “Finisher” can also be a submission like the Sharpshooter or a flying maneuver like the Frog Splash or the West Coast Pop.

Flair flip - a move, popularized by Ric Flair, where a wrestler is flipped upside down upon hitting the corner turnbuckle and often ends up on the other side of the ropes on his feet on the ring apron.

Flair flop – also a Ric Flair specialty, it involves falling flat on one’s face as a delayed sell of an opponent’s offense.

Kayfabe – term used to describe the illusion (and up-keep of the illusion) that professional wrestling is not staged (i.e. that the on-screen situations between wrestlers represent reality). Also used by wrestlers as a signal to close ranks and stop discussing business due to an uninformed person arriving in earshot. The term is said to have been loosely derived from the Pig Latin pronunciation of the word “fake” (“akefay”).

Luchas de Apuestas – with the importance placed on masks in lucha libre, losing the mask to an opponent is seen as the ultimate insult, and can at times seriously hurt the career of the unmasking wrestler. Putting one’s mask on the line against a hated opponent is a tradition in lucha libre as a means to settle a heated feud between two or more wrestlers. In these battles, called luchas de apuestas (“matches with wagers”), the wrestlers usually “wager” either their mask or their hair, though there are wagers involving other items as well. While the culture of Luchas de Apuestas is unique to Mexico, matches of this sort do occur elsewhere. A famous example in the United States took place during the 1977 promotional war in Memphis. Bill Dundee and Jerry Lawler engaged in a feud which lasted for several months. The blow off match, a hair versus hair match in which Dundee lost his hair, did not end the feud. The following week, Lawler put up his hair against the hair of Dundee’s wife Beverly and was once again victorious.

Parts Unknown
– billing a wrestler as being from “Parts Unknown” (rather than from his real hometown or another actual place) is intended to add to a wrestler’s mystique. In some territories, the phrase commonly was applied to masked wrestlers. In the post-kayfabe era, it is used less and less, and usually with a certain air of levity. Sometimes, wrestlers can hail from other, abstract places; for example, the tag team of Deuce ‘n Domino hailed from “the other side of the tracks”, the Dudley family who came from “Dudleyville,” The Boogeyman who came from “the bottomless pit,” Shark Boy is billed from “the deep blue sea,” Eric Young who, for a time, came from “Freedomville, USA,” and “Now residing in an undisclosed location,” and Judas Mesias, who came from “The Depths of Hell.” In an interview, Chris Jericho described it as a city in central Wisconsin.

Potato – striking or hurting another wrestler more than necessary. A wrestler who endures one or more potatoes is likely to potato the perpetrator back, which is known as a ‘receipt’.

Suplex – the move consists of one wrestler picking up his or her opponent off the ground (or mat) and then using a large portion of his or her own body weight to drive the opponent down on the mat.

“Get mad, you sons of bitches! Get mad!”

One of my favourite monologues ever, this. Alec Baldwin in Glengarry Glen Ross lights a fire up the arse of Jack Lemon, Ed Harris et al, watched by a snarky Kevin Spacey. Ed Harris barely says a word, but his reaction is pitch perfect. Awkward and uncomfortable.

It might be slightly cynical, but in many ways it’s scarily real. Then of course there’s Ricky Roma (Al Pacino), but I’ll leave you to discover him. Best to just watch the movie.

Halo live x2

Today my lovely sister is 40…

That’s her, second from the left. Happy birthday Jen. Love you.

x

Grimes and Little Dragon

“The hype surrounding [Grimes,] the Montreal indie-electronic artist is well deserved. Taking cues from everything from Korean pop music, Russian ballet and heavy synth- she’s managed to defy genre. With her recent signing to 4AD, Grimes has been catapulted to a new dimension of hip, and rightfully so – her latest track, “Genesis” off her upcoming “Visions” is a synthy gem.” Via BOOOOOOOOM.

Little Dragon are a Swedish electronic band, formed in Gothenburg in 1996.[2] It consists of Swedish-Japanese singer Yukimi Nagano (vocals, percussion) and her close high school friends Erik Bodin (drums), Fredrik Källgren Wallin (bass) and Håkan Wirenstrand (keyboards). The band’s name was inspired by the “Little Dragon” nickname Nagano earned due to the “fuming tantrums” she used to throw while recording in the studio. “It’s a little exaggerated but there is some truth in it”, Nagano said. “But we’ve grown up a bit and I realised you can’t have a fit every day because otherwise you won’t be able to stand each other.” Via Tru.ly

Fumblerules of grammar

I’ve actually blogged about this list before, but didn’t know its provenance (or have the full quota) until I came across an entry on it via the excellent LISTS OF NOTE:

Late-1979, New York Times columnist William Safire compiled a list of “Fumblerules of Grammar” — rules of writing, all of which are humorously self-contradictory — and published them in his popular column, “On Language.” Those 36 fumblerules can be seen below, along with another 18 that later featured in Safire’s book, Fumblerules: A Lighthearted Guide to Grammar and Good Usage.

Trivia: Safire previously worked as a speechwriter and was, in 1969, responsible for penning Nixon’s thankfully unused and incredibly chilling, “IN EVENT OF MOON DISASTER” speech.

(Source: Maximum Awesome; Image: William Safire in 1968, courtesy ofNYTimes.)

  1. Remember to never split an infinitive.
  2. A preposition is something never to end a sentence with.
  3. The passive voice should never be used.
  4. Avoid run-on sentences they are hard to read.
  5. Don’t use no double negatives.
  6. Use the semicolon properly, always use it where it is appropriate; and never where it isn’t.
  7. Reserve the apostrophe for it’s proper use and omit it when its not needed.
  8. Do not put statements in the negative form.
  9. Verbs has to agree with their subjects.
  10. No sentence fragments.
  11. Proofread carefully to see if you words out.
  12. Avoid commas, that are not necessary.
  13. If you reread your work, you can find on rereading a great deal of repetition can be avoided by rereading and editing.
  14. A writer must not shift your point of view.
  15. Eschew dialect, irregardless.
  16. And don’t start a sentence with a conjunction.
  17. Don’t overuse exclamation marks!!!
  18. Place pronouns as close as possible, especially in long sentences, as of 10 or more words, to their antecedents.
  19. Hyphenate between sy-llables and avoid un-necessary hyphens.
  20. Write all adverbial forms correct.
  21. Don’t use contractions in formal writing.
  22. Writing carefully, dangling participles must be avoided.
  23. It is incumbent on us to avoid archaisms.
  24. If any word is improper at the end of a sentence, a linking verb is.
  25. Steer clear of incorrect forms of verbs that have snuck in the language.
  26. Take the bull by the hand and avoid mixing metaphors.
  27. Avoid trendy locutions that sound flaky.
  28. Never, ever use repetitive redundancies.
  29. Everyone should be careful to use a singular pronoun with singular nouns in their writing.
  30. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, resist hyperbole.
  31. Also, avoid awkward or affected alliteration.
  32. Don’t string too many prepositional phrases together unless you are walking through the valley of the shadow of death.
  33. Always pick on the correct idiom.
  34. “Avoid overuse of ‘quotation “marks.”‘”
  35. The adverb always follows the verb.
  36. Last but not least, avoid cliches like the plague; They’re old hat; seek viable alternatives.
  37. Never use a long word when a diminutive one will do.
  38. Employ the vernacular.
  39. Eschew ampersands & abbreviations, etc.
  40. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are unnecessary.
  41. Contractions aren’t necessary.
  42. Foreign words and phrases are not apropos.
  43. One should never generalize.
  44. Eliminate quotations. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “I hate quotations. Tell me what you know.”
  45. Comparisons are as bad as cliches.
  46. Don’t be redundant; don’t use more words than necessary; it’s highly superfluous.
  47. Be more or less specific.
  48. Understatement is always best.
  49. One-word sentences? Eliminate.
  50. Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.
  51. Go around the barn at high noon to avoid colloquialisms.
  52. Who needs rhetorical questions?
  53. Exaggeration is a billion times worse than understatement.
  54. capitalize every sentence and remember always end it with a point

“Robert The Cardboard Box Man”

Really beautiful short about Cardboard Box Man.

Song for Monday

And I will stroll the merry way
And jump the hedges first
And I will drink the clear
Clean water for to quench my thirst
And I shall watch the ferry-boats
And they’ll get high
On a bluer ocean
Against tomorrow’s sky
And I will never grow so old again
And I will walk and talk
In gardens all wet with rain

Oh sweet thing, sweet thing
My, my, my, my, my sweet thing
And I shall drive my chariot
Down your streets and cry
‘Hey, it’s me, I’m dynamite
And I don’t know why’
And you shall take me strongly
In your arms again
And I will not remember
That I even felt the pain.
We shall walk and talk
In gardens all misty and wet with rain
And I will never, never, never
Grow so old again.

Oh sweet thing, sweet thing
My, my, my, my, my sweet thing
And I will raise my hand up
Into the night time sky
And count the stars
That’s shining in your eye
Just to dig it all an’ not to wonder
That’s just fine
And I’ll be satisfied
Not to read in between the lines
And I will walk and talk
In gardens all wet with rain
And I will never, ever, ever, ever
Grow so old again.
Oh sweet thing, sweet thing
Sugar-baby with your champagne eyes
And your saint-like smile….

Woke up to this quote, Vikram Seth on how he feels about being 60

“I’m just going to be happy to be buffeted, by whatever comes along, and then seize some things and try to work on them. But, we live for such a ridiculously short time in this life, even those of us who are fortunate to have health and all that sort of stuff…to not add being with people one loves and spending time with them – you know my parents now are eighty – so to spend time with them, and my nieces, and myself and, I hope, with someone who I can make a life with…this is as important to me as literary inspiration or [learning] Welsh or pottery.”

Vikram Seth, author of A Suitable Boy, interviewed on Desert Island Discs

Fear and loathing on the Costa Concordia

The BBC has an extraordinary recording of a conversation between the Italian coast guard and Francesco Schettino, the captain of the Costa Concordia, who has been accused of abandoning ship.

“This is DiFalco,” it begins. “Am I speaking to the captain?”

“Yes, good evening, DiFalco.”

“Tell me your name.”

“This is Captain Schettino.”

“Schettino, listen, there are people trapped on board. You need to go with your lifeboat under the bow of the ship. Go right around. There’s a ladder. Go up the ladder, get on board the ship. You have to get on board, report back how many people there are. Is that clear? Look, I’m recording this conversation.”

Schettino stalls. The conversation escalates, as DiFalco tries to roust him out of complacency.

“Tell me if there are women, children, or anyone that needs assistance. Report back. How many in each of these categories. Look, Schettino, get on board now!*”

“Commander, please!”

“No, not please! You will get on board. Will you assure me that, that you are going on board now?”

Over the course of the three-minute tape, Schettino resorts to all manner of excuses: he’s coördinating with another boat, he’s with the second-in-command, it is getting dark. His fear is as palpable as it is pitiable. He sounds like a teen-ager trying to get out of doing his homework, but what he doesn’t want to do is die.

*UPDATE: Pier Andrea Canei, from Milan, writes that the BBC translation, while accurate enough, misses something in tone: “More like ‘get the f**k back on board.’ It is Italy’s top trending hashtag: #vadaabordocazzo.”

(By Lauren Collins in the New Yorker)

Poema 20: Pablo Neruda on love, with a spot Rudolph Valentino. Perfect.

Loving her was easier (than anything I’ll ever do again)

Wasn’t going to post any more music for a bit, but the inimitable Robert Hicks, all the way in Tennessee, happened to link to this song earlier, and it couldn’t go unrecognised:

Kristofferson wrote and first recorded the track in 1971, but there are other versions by Roger Miller, Tompball and the Glaser Brothers, Mark Chesnutt, Willie Nelson, Billie Jo Spears, Nana Mouskouri (yes, that’s what I said, Nana Mouskouri) and probably plenty of others.

(Dysonology can now be found going somewhat laboriously from G to F and back again on a guitar near you in an effort to nail this little beauty)

Cat Power – King Rides By (featuring Manny Pacquiao)

Emmanuel “Manny” Dapidran Pacquiao, (born December 17, 1978) is a Filipino professional boxer and politician. He is the first eight-division world champion; having won six world titles as well as the first to win the lineal championship in four different weight classes. He was named “Fighter of the Decade” for the 2000s by the Boxing Writers Association of America (BWAA). He is also a three-time The Ring and BWAA “Fighter of the Year”, winning the award in 2006, 2008, and 2009.

Currently, Pacquiao is the WBO Welterweight Champion. He is also rated as the best pound for pound boxer in the world by some sporting news and boxing websites, including The Ring, BoxRec.com and Sporting Life.

Aside from boxing, Pacquiao has participated in acting, music recording, and politics. In May 2010, Pacquiao was elected to the House of Representatives in the 15th Congress of the Philippines, representing the province of Sarangani. Pacquiao is also a military reservist with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel in the Reserve Force of the Philippine Army.

Amateur record: 60 Wins, 4 defeats, 0 Draws
Professional record: 54 Wins (38 Knockouts), 3 Defeats (2 Knockouts), 2 Draws

Charlyn Marie Marshall (born January 21, 1972), also known as Chan Marshall or by her stage name Cat Power, is an American singer/songwriter and occasional actress and model. Cat Power was originally the name of Marshall’s first band, but has come to refer to her musical projects with various backing bands. Over a twenty year career she has produced eight studio albums, one live album and two EPs.

Marshall has been praised for her soulful vocals and raw, minimalist guitar playing. Cat Power’s concert appearances were unconventional and unpredictable for many years, and critics often called her an erratic live act. Marshall faced substance abuse problems which she said affected her performances, and recently her act has been notably more polished, although her musical style has also changed significantly. Marshall has also done modelling work. She has been photographed by notable fashion photographers and in 2006 became a spokesperson for Chanel. She has appeared in three films, including Wong Kar-Wai’s My Blueberry Nights (2007).

She also did this song:

Facts via Wikipedia

Jai Lakshmi Kalyanji – a good luck song for the year ahead

Goddess Lakshmi means Good Luck to Hindus. The word ‘Lakshmi’ is derived from the Sanskrit word “Laksya”, meaning ‘aim’ or ‘goal’, and she is the goddess of wealth and prosperity, both material and spiritual.

Lakshmi is the household goddess of most Hindu families, and a favorite of women. Although she is worshipped daily, the festive month of October is Lakshmi’s special month. Lakshmi Puja is celebrated on the full moon night of Kojagari Purnima.

The Lakshmi Form:
Lakshmi is depicted as a beautiful woman of golden complexion, with four hands, sitting or standing on a full-bloomed lotus and holding a lotus bud, which stands for beauty, purity and fertility. Her four hands represent the four ends of human life: dharma or righteousness, “kama” or desires, “artha” or wealth, and “moksha” or liberation from the cycle of birth and death.

Cascades of gold coins are seen flowing from her hands, suggesting that those who worship her gain wealth. She always wears gold embroidered red clothes. Red symbolizes activity and the golden lining indicates prosperity. Lakshmi is the active energy of Vishnu, and also appears as Lakshmi-Narayan – Lakshmi accompanying Vishnu.

Two elephants are often shown standing next to the goddess and spraying water. This denotes that ceaseless effort, in accordance with one’s dharma and governed by wisdom and purity, leads to both material and spiritual prosperity.

A Mother Goddess:
Worship of a mother goddess has been a part of Indian tradition since its earliest times. Lakshmi is one of the mother goddesses and is addressed as “mata” (mother) instead of just “devi” (goddess).

As a female counterpart of Lord Vishnu, Mata Lakshmi is also called ‘Shri’, the female energy of the Supreme Being. She is the goddess of prosperity, wealth, purity, generosity, and the embodiment of beauty, grace and charm.

A Domestic Deity:
The importance attached to the presence of Lakshmi in every household makes her an essentially domestic deity. Householders worship Lakshmi for the well being and prosperity of the family. Businessmen and women also regard her equally and offer her daily prayers.

On the full moon night following Dusshera or Durga Puja, Hindus worship Lakshmi ceremonially at home, pray for her blessings, and invite neighbors to attend the puja. It is believed that on this full moon night the goddess herself visits the homes and replenishes the inhabitants with wealth. A special worship is also offered to Lakshmi on the auspicious Diwali night.

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The Guy Quote – Michael Herr (a must-read)

Before he co-wrote and contributed to Apocalypse Now and Full Metal Jacket, Michael Herr wrote a book called Dispatches.

Published in 1977, it is a memoir of his days as an Esquire journalist in Vietnam in 1967, where he witnessed some of the fiercest fighting of the war.

He had originally gone with no real brief, no real deadlines, intending to write a series of monthly articles for the magazine, but gave up when he realised the idea was simply “horrible”. It took him ten years to gather his thoughts.

Dispatches pioneered a new form of journalism – the nonfiction novel. Pick it up if you see it, the writing is honest, engrossing, truthful. No wonder Jean Le Carré called it “the best book on war and men in our time”.

The Heath Anthology of American Literature has this to say: ‘As Herr tells it, the Vietnam War was very much a 1960s spectacle: part John Wayne movie, part rock-and-roll concert, part redneck riot, part media event, and part bad drug trip. Herr’s style, so perfectly grounded in the popular culture of the time, pulls at the reader with great power and unmistakable authenticity. After a particularly terrible battle, a young Marine glared at Herr, knowing he was a writer, and snarled: “Okay, man, you go on, you go on out of here, you cocksucker, but I mean it, you tell it! You tell it, man.” And so Herr did.’

When I was about 13 I bought a copy in a second-hand book shop. I liked it because it had a picture of a helmet on the front and I’d never seen a book cover with white space like that. Platoon was out in the cinema and me and my best friend Nicky Boas were listening to a lot of Deep Purple and The Doors.

I was engrossed from the second I opened it. I read it and re-read it until the spine cracked and it fell apart. Re-reading some of it now, I’m amazed how much of it has stuck with me too. Dispatches introduced me to all sorts of writers – a gateway to Tom Wolfe, Norman Mailer and more. Its words, its ethos – well, all of it really – is just as relevant, just as powerful today as it ever was.

NB – please click here to see more “The Guy Quote” pieces

[apologies in advance if any of these aren't from Dispatches - let me know and I'll correct in a jiffy, but I'm fairly sure they're all good]

“In the months after I got back the hundreds of helicopters I’d flown in begin to draw together until they’d formed a collective meta-chopper, and in my mind it was the sexiest thing going; saver-destroyer, provider-waster, right hand-left hand, nimble, fluent, canny and human; hot steel, grease, jungle-saturated canvas webbing, sweat cooling and warming up again, cassette rock and roll in one ear and door-gun fire in the other, fuel, heat, vitality, and death, death itself, hardly an intruder.”

“I had the I Corps DTs, livers, spleens, brains, a blue-black swollen thumb moved around and flashed to me, they were playing over the walls of the shower where I spent my half-hour, they were on the bedsheets, but I wasn’t afraid of them. I was laughing at them, what could they do to me?
“I filled a water glass with Armagnac and rolled a joint, and then started to read my mail. In one of the letters there was news that a friend of mine had killed himself in New York. When I turned off the lights and got into bed I lay there trying to remember what he had looked like. He had done it with pills, but no matter what I tried to imagine, all I saw was blood and bone fragment, not my dead friend. After a while I broke through for a second and saw him, but by that time all I could do with it was file him in with the rest and go to sleep.”

“Conventional journalism could no more reveal this war than conventional firepower could win it.”

“There’s no way around it, if you photographed a dead marine with a poncho over his face and got something for it, you were some kind of parasite. But what were you if you pulled the poncho back first to make it a better shot, and did that in front of his friends? Some other kind of parasite I suppose.”

“All the wrong people remember Vietnam. I think all the people who remember it should forget it, and all the people who forgot it should remember it.”

“I think Vietnam was what we had instead of happy childhoods.”

“Amazing, unbelievable, guys who’d played a lot of hard sports said they’d never felt anything like it, the sudden adrenaline you could make available to yourself, pumping it up and putting it out until you were lost floating in it, not afraid, almost open to clear orgasmic death-by-drowning in it, actually relaxed.
“Unless of course you’d shit your pants or were screaming or praying or giving anything at all to the hundred-channel panic that blew word salad all around you and sometimes clean through you. Maybe you couldn’t love war and hate it inside the same instant, but sometimes those feelings alternated so rapidly that they spun together in a strobic wheel rolling all the way up until you were literally High On War, like it said on the helmet covers. Coming off a jag like that could really make a mess of you.”

“‘I’ve been having this dream,’ the major said. ‘I’ve had it two times now. I’m in a big examination room back at Quantico. They’re handing out questionnaires for an aptitude test. I take one look at it, and the first question says, How many kinds of animals can you kill with your hands?’
We could see rain falling in a sheet about a kilometre away. Judging by the wind, the major gave it three minutes before it reached us.
‘After the first tour, I’d have the goddamndest nightmares. You know, the works. Bloody stuff, bad fights, guys dying, me dying… I thought they were the worst,’ he said. ‘But I sort of miss them now.’”

“Levels of information were levels of dread, once it’s out it won’t go back in, you can’t just blink it away or run the film backward out of consciousness. How many of those levels did you really want to hump yourself through, which plateau would you reach before you shorted out and started sending back the messages unopened?”

“I keep thinking about all the kids who got wiped out by seventeen years of war movies before coming to Vietnam to get wiped out for good. You don’t know what a media freak is until you’ve seen the way a few of those grunts would run around during a fight when they knew that there was a television crew nearby; they were actually making war movies in their heads, doing little guts-and-glory Leatherneck tap dances under fire, getting their pimples shot off for the networks. They were insane, but the war hadn’t done that to them. Most combat troops stopped thinking of the war as an adventure after their first few firefights, but there were always the ones who couldn’t let that go, these few who were up there doing numbers for the cameras… We’d all seen too many movies, stayed too long in Television City, years of media glut had made certain connections difficult.”

“…if that energy could have been channelled into anything more than noise, waste and pain it would have lighted up Indochina for a thousand years.”

“I met this kid from Miles City, Montana, who read the Stars and Stripes every day, checking the casualty lists to see if by some chance anybody from his home town had been killed. He didn’t even know if there was anyone else from Miles City in Vietnam, but he checked anyway because he knew for sure that if there was someone else and they got killed, he would be all right. “I mean, can you just see *two* guys from a raggedy-ass town like Miles City getting killed in Vietnam?”

“The crew chief was a young Marine who moved around the chopper without a safety line hooked to his flight suit, so comfortable with the rolling and shaking of the ship that you couldn’t even pause to admire his daredevil nerve; you cut straight through to his easy grace and control, marveling as he hunkered down by the open door to rig the broken seat up again with pliers and a length of wire. At 1,500 feet he stood there in the gale-sucking door (Did he ever think about stepping off? How often?), his hands resting naturally on his hips, as though he were just standing around on a street corner somewhere, waiting. He knew he was good, an artist, he knew we were digging it, but it wasn’t for us at all; it was his, private; he was the man who was never going to fall out of any damn helicopter.”

“How many times did someone have to run in front of a machine gun before it became an act of cowardice?”

“Going out at night the medics gave you pills, Dexedrine breath like dead snakes kept too long in a jar. [...] I knew one 4th division Lurp who took his pills by the fistful, downs from the left pocket of his tiger suit and ups from the right, one to cut the trail for him and the other to send him down it. He told me that they cooled things out just right for him, that could see that old jungle at night like he was looking at it through a starlight scope. “They sure give you the range,” he said.”

“Maybe nothing’s so unfunny as an omen read wrong.”

“You know how it is, you want to look and you don’t want to look. I can remember the strange feelings I had when I was a kid looking at war photographs in Life, the ones that showed dead people or a lot of dead people lying close together in a field or street, often touching, seeming to hold each other. Even when the picture was sharp and cleanly defined, something wasn’t clear at all, some repressed that monitored the images and withheld their essential information. It may have legitimized my fascination, letting me look for as long as I wanted; I didn’t have a language for it then, but I remember now the shame I felt, like looking at first porn, all the porn in the world. I could have looked until my lamps went out and I still wouldn’t have accepted the connection between a detached leg and the rest of the body, or the poses and positions that always (one day I’d hear it called “response-to-impact”), bodies wrenched too fast and violently into unbelievable contortion. Or the total impersonality of group death, making them lie anywhere and any way it left them, hanging over barbed wire or thrown promiscuously on top of other dead, or up into the trees like terminal acrobats, Look what I can do.

“Supposedly, you weren’t going to have that kind of obscuration when you finally started seeing them on real ground in front of you, but you tended to manufacture it anyway because of how often and how badly you needed protection from what you were seeing, had actually come 30,000 miles to see. Once I looked at them strung from perimeter to the treeline, most of them clumped together nearest the wire, then in smaller numbers but tighter groups midway, fanning out into lots of scattered points nearer the treeline, with one all by himself half into the bush and half out. “Close but no cigar”, the captain said, and then a few of his men went out there and kicked them all in the head, thirty-seven of them. Then I heard an M-16 on full automatic starting to go through the clips, a second to fire, three to plug in a fresh clip, and I saw a man out there, doing it. Every round was like a tiny concentration of high-velocity wind, making the bodies wince and shiver. When he finished he walked by us on the way back to his hootch and I knew I hadn’t seen anything until I saw his face. It was flushed and mottled and twisted like he had his face skin on inside out, a patch of green that was too dark, a streak of red running in bruise purple, a lot of sick gray white in between, he looked like he’d had a heart attack out there. His eyes were rolled up into his head, his mouth was sprung open and his tongue was out, but he was smiling. Really a dude who’d shot his wad. The captain wasn’t too pleased about my having seen that.”

‘Bob Stokes of Newsweek told me this: In the big Marine Hospital in Danang they have what is called the “White Lie Ward”, where they bring some of the worst cases, the ones who can be saved but who will never be the same again. A young Marine was carried in, still unconscious and full of morphine, and his legs were gone. As he was being carried into the ward, he came out briefly and saw a Catholic chaplain standing over him.

“Father,” he said, “am I all right?”

The chaplain didn’t know what to say. “You’ll have to talk about that with the doctors, son.”

“Father, are my legs okay?”

“Yes,” the chaplain said. “Sure.”

By the next afternoon the shock had worn off and the boy knew all about it. He was lying in his cot when the chaplain came by.

“Father,” the Marine said, “I’d like to ask you for something.”

“What, son?”

“I’d like to have that cross.” And he pointed to the tiny silver insignia on the chaplain’s lapel.

“Of couse,” the shaplain said. “But why?”

“Well, it was the first thing I saw when I came to yesterday, and I’d like to have it.”

The chaplain removed the cross and handed it to him. The Marine held it tightly in his fist and looked at the chaplain.

“You lied to me, Father,” he said. “You cocksucker. You lied to me.”’

Thiago Pethit and friends, singing Não se vá on Sao Paulo’s Minhocao

“We still had in mind the idea of doing a Sao Paulo-style cabaret, with a piano in the middle, and we thought we ought to take it out into the street. But not just any old street – the Minhocao, that famous and much detested motorway that cuts through the heart of the city and is transformed into a huge playground every Sunday when it is closed to traffic.”

A beautiful selection by Thiago Pethit for Blogotheque. See all three pieces they filmed on the day here.