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Dot Dot Dot

. . . is Morse code for the letter S, the content of the transatlantic transmission received at Signal Hill in 1901.

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Dot Dot Dot · Page 13

A thought on not overdoing it with the adjectives

“Adjective salad is delicious, with each element contributing its individual and unique flavor; but a puree of adjective soup tastes yecchy.”
— William Safire


The American pundit William Safire was born in the same year as my dad (that would be 1929), so I naturally associate him with Dad’s generation. He was a political pundit writing from the right, or at least was a conservative in the 20th century sense of the word. He died in 2009, and I would be so curious to read what he had to say about politics in his country in the last decade or so.

Safire was widely respected beyond political circles for his frequent articles and books about language, writing and usage. His 1980 book On Language paved the way for what became, in effect, his main career; he wrote a column in the New York Times Magazine on the subject that ran for three decades straight. His arguments against jargon and in favour of clear and plain language are still potent.


Shovelcrusted, twisting, psychohail and 47 other words for snow (via Kate Bush and Stephen Fry)

Late in 2011, Kate Bush released her 10th album, 50 Words for Snow. The whole project is wintry, with all of the songs connected and fitting a seasonal theme.

For the title song, Bush recruited Stephen Fry, who brings his legend of a speaking voice to the recitation of, yep, 50 different words or phrases that describe snow. Some of them are right out of fantasy, while others — especially on a day like today in St. John’s, where we are surrounded by a heavy, wet, crusty kind of snow — are all too real.

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Traitors, but they’re fictional, and it’s Joffrey, Patsy and Sister Michael (and other things to see)

I got a good chuckle from a post on Facebook this morning. It imagined what the popular TV series Traitors might look like if everyone in the castle was a fictional character.

Some months ago we got a bit hooked on Traitors — the British version, that is. The American one has largely been filled with reality TV “stars” and while host Alan Cumming is hilarious, the American show can sometimes grate. The U.K. show is fun if not fascinating to watch, and I would put last fall’s celebrity version (featuring Stephen Fry, Celia Imrie, Alan Carr, Nick Mohammed and many others) down as one of the most entertaining things I’ve seen in a while.

As for this fictional pitch: Can’t you just imagine Patsy from Absolutely Fabulous in the castle’s bar? Joffrey from Game of Thrones would actually murder other guests — and would 100 per cent be voted out at an early roundtable. And then there’s Sister Michael from Derry Girls, who would already know all the gossip, just from staring at other contestants.

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A thought on what goes clear to the bone

“Beauty may be skin deep, but ugly goes clear to the bone.”
— Redd Foxx


Redd Foxx is best-known for playing Fred Sanford in the show Sanford and Son, although many people didn’t know that Sanford was his real surname. Fred Sanford, in fact, was the name of Foxx’s father (and his brother, too, for that matter). The show was based on the British series Steptoe and Son, and transferred the setting from London to the Watts area of L.A. It made Foxx — whose take-no-prisoners style of standup comedy had made him a profane nightclub legend — a household name around the world.

It was also his career peak. He left the show prematurely, and never quite got the combination right to keep a career. Eddie Murphy cast him in 1989’s Harlem Nights, and when Foxx — once a rich man whose wealth slipped away — died two years later, Murphy stepped in to pay for his funeral and burial. “For some strange reason,” Murphy told Vanity Fair, “a lot of people in show business, when they die, they don’t have their stuff in order.”

An underrated part of Sanford and Son was Desmond Wilson, whose Lamont was often the mature one in his many scenes with Foxx’s Fred. Wilson died just last week, at 79.

If you’re of a certain age, you might still be able to hum to the theme for Sanford and Son, or at least nod vigorously. It’s a Quincy Jones song called The Streetbeater, and here it is in full:


The AI slop that friends share on Facebook is annoying. The problem is going to get so much worse

No, Alan Alda did not get picked up by MASH co-star Mike Farrell for a warm-hearted reunion ride on a motorcycle for his 90th birthday. Nor did Alda have a warm-hearted reunion on a beach with fellow MASH alumni.

In reality, Alan Alda had an evidently pleasant dinner with family on Jan. 28, enjoying a dinner out with family and blowing out a candle.

I can’t share a news story about this birthday party on Facebook, because I live in Canada and Meta — the owner of Facebook, Instagram, Threads and more — does not permit the sharing of news stories inside the country. (Meta refuses to comply with Bill C-18, the Online News Act, which aims to divert revenues from tech giants that aggregate news toward local journalism.)

Facebook though has no problem at all with fake stories about Alan Alda being shared, and widely. I’ve seen versions in the last week that just make me groan.

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A thought on AIDS, the Eighties and what was lost

“In the ’80s, there was a certain freedom, and a sense of immortality, that ended with that decade. AIDS cracked the earth. With everyone dying, everything shifted. Our history got cut off. We lost a whole generation. We lost a culture. We didn’t just lose the actors, we lost the audience.”
— Nan Goldin, photographer, from a piece on her work in the Guardian


Move On Up, served 3 ways

Curtis Mayfield’s Move On Up is a firecracker in every iteration, but you need to hear the album version — volume up, please — to get the full effect.

Decades on, it still gets me. It’s almost nine minutes, and worth every moment.

What drives this song? Maybe it’s simply the pitch of Mayfield’s voice, or the rousingly optimistic lyrics. Maybe it’s the seven-piece horn section, which is relentless. Then there’s the rhythm, powered by guitars played by Mayfield and two others.

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A thought on what makes failure actually succeed

“This thing that we call ‘failure’ is not the falling down, but the staying down.”
— Mary Pickford


Today’s quote o’ the day is from the Toronto-born actor and producer who became one of America’s biggest stars. It originates from this synidcated essay Pickford wrote in 1936, extolling religious belief. (It must have a year of searching for Pickford, a massive star in the silent movie era; her divorce from Douglas Fairbanks went through earlier that year.)

Let’s look at the quote in a fuller context. Here’s the start of the paragraph it comes from:

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Some books that impressed (or at least really entertained) me over the last year

It’s been a month since New Year’s Day, and while it’s a bit late to add a chip to the pile of year-end retrospectives, I’ve been looking back at books I’ve read over the last year.

In this case, I wanted to look at books that made an impression on me. I hesitate to describe them all as great books; rather, they’re books that I enjoyed, or appreciated deeply.

Looking back over my Goodreads list for the year, I see a few books with details I scarcely remember.

The ones below, though, are generally at the other end of the spectrum: I not only recall them, but remember that satisfaction that comes when you read something hearty. I’m also tossing in some books that were just plain fun.

Here are some recommendations, in no particular order:

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Catherine O’Hara helped get me through high school

I reacted with disbelief yesterday afternoon when I saw the first push notification that Catherine O’Hara had died, at only 71. “No, no, no, no, no, no,” I uttered as I opened the story.

It says something that international media (the BBC, the New York Times, CNN) all saw fit to send push notifications about O’Hara’s death. She had been a Canadian star for almost five decades, but she made an impression — time and again, through a long and wonderful career — everywhere.

SCTV was a fixture for me when I was an adolescent. Produced first on a shoestring in Toronto, the show was kept alive by ITV in Edmonton, where the cast and crew remained to shoot the show through a rocky financing history, even when NBC bailed out and upgraded the show as a complement to the much-better-known Saturday Night Live.

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A thought on making your own luck

“I’ve always been in the right place and time. Of course, I steered myself there.”
— Bob Hope


This quote, taken from comedian Bob Hope’s memoir Don’t Shoot, It’s Always Me, speaks to working hard and keeping your eyes out for a good opportunity. Making your own luck, as it were.

I took this photo — of a bronze sculpture of Hope performing in front of an old-timey microphone — in San Diego during a visit there in 2011. It’s a city filled with public art, and there is also a huge navy presence, so it was not surprising to see both combine in a war memorial. You can find it near the USS Midway Museum.

A National Salute to Bob Hope and the Military
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You started this fire down in my soul

Last week, the Newfoundland Symphony Orchestra achieved a key performing goal — putting bums in seats — with three consecutive Winter Pops concerts at the Arts & Culture Centre in St. John’s.

It was 70s night. Cynically, I’m tempted to say it described the audience … but I’m going to park the cynicism, even though, well, I’m not wrong. (I felt like I was in the younger part of the demographic, honest.)

Powerhouse singer Dana Parsons was at the mic for many of these tunes, including the Thelma Houston barnburner that opened the show.

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Crossed out: About the cancelled hospital at Kenmount Crossing 

Taking all the politics and curious real estate backstory out of it, the proposed site for a new hospital in the St. John’s area made sense. 

Kenmount Crossing, as it’s called, nears the end of Kenmount Road in St. John’s — or it could be at the beginning, if you’re driving into the city. Three decades or so ago, when I lived in Paradise, all of that land was the woods, the trees you drove past as you went to work or the movies. 

It’s all getting filled in now, and the land is between rapidly growing subdivisions from each direction, with industrial and commercial development thrown in there too. The proposed hospital site would have linked to the Trans-Canada Highway through the Outer Ring Road, and would put acute health care much closer to a bigger and growing population. 

The new Progressive Conservative government has put the kibosh on the hospital plan. Health Minister Barry Petten on Wednesday said the government simply cannot afford the pricey $10-bilion bill of developing a new hospital from scratch, and will instead renovate St. Clare’s Hospital near downtown St. John’s.

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A thought about magazines, the gateway to something heavier

“Magazines all too frequently lead to books and should be regarded as the heavy petting of literature.”
— Fran Lebowitz


The quote of today comes from Fran Lebowitz’s debut book Metropolitan Life, which established her in 1978 as a great wit and a barbed observer of how people live their lives. I read it a few years later in university, as well as her followup, Social Studies, and then I waited and waited (and waited some more) for the next collection of essays. Apart from an anthology that combined the two, she has not yet written it.

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Tune | A rapid response to Minneapolis, from Bruce Springsteen

In June 1970, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young released a searing single called Ohio, just a few weeks after the shootings in Kent State, when the National Guard opened fire and killed students. “Four dead in Ohio,” as Neil Young’s lyrics put it.

It was a fast response to a horrifying news event.

On Wednesday, Bruce Springsteen released Streets of Minneapolis, just four days after Border Patrol offices shot and killed Alex Pretti, who was using a phone to record ICE activity in the city.

Springsteen won an Oscar for the similarly named Streets of Philadelphia, which helped force reluctant fans to confront the reality and ravages of the AIDS epidemic.

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