Geriatrica

The Ingress and Egress of It All

William TimbermanLeave a comment

I’m watching NASA’s preparations for the April Fool’s Day launch of Artemis II, their first crewed circumlunar mission since Apollo 8 in 1968. My twenty-five year-old self watches with me, that long-haired, incurably hopeful New Leftist I used to be jammed into a neighbor’s living room with my then girlfriend and most of the rest of our ambivalent crew, waiting for Walter Cronkite to light up my neighbor’s 13 inch Sony TV with the confirmation that Neil Armstrong had become the first human being in history to set foot on another celestial body.

NASA representatives still talk like automatons, still use unnecessarily cryptic words/phrases like ingress and egress, capcom (capsule communicator), extravehicular activity, translunar injection. It’s all so cult-like, so pious, so oblivious to the atrocities being commited in our name elsewhere on our own celestial body, that blue marble of aspiration, the one we keep betraying. The word then was Vietnam, the word today is Iran. But never mind. For now we are watching a special civilian operation. The special military operation will have to wait until tomorrow.

Film Criticism (Of a Sort)

William Timberman

So I find myself netflicking again the other night, looking for something to rest my weary eyes on after another long day spent reading and writing on that radiant little iPad of mine. Ah, here we go then, a new one of those geriatric menaces with Liam Neeson in it. This time he’s to be a hit man (what else) retired in a village full of innocents the producer seems to have borrowed from the Banshees of Inisherin. It does also have Ciarán Hinds and Colm Meaney in it, though, so maybe….

Turns out it’s quite satisfying—serious enough to portray a character who has as hard a time as any of us figuring out if it’s his death or his life catching up with him, and wise enough to cast a superb Kerry Condon as the young harridan with a revolver who helps him with the final bit of calculation. It’s not quite Inisherin, but it doesn’t embarrass itself.

It’s called In the Land of Saints and Sinners, and it’s on Prime. It wouldn‘t kill you to have a look at it.

Angels in America

William Timberman

Once upon a time in California, I was late getting getting home from work on election day, and had just enough time to grab my sample ballot and leg it to my local polling place two blocks away before it closed. As I hustled past a lifted Ram pickup with a chrome bull bar idling menacingly in the mouth of my local gas station driveway, the driver, a young man in a ten gallon Stetson and sunglasses, flashed the lights at me, stuck his arm out of the driver’s side window and slapped the outside of the door.

“¡Andale Viejo!” he belted out. “¡Que te vaya bien!“ I gave him a perfunctory thumbs up and kept on trucking.

¿Viejo? I grumbled to myself. I’m forty-one, for fuck’s sake!

He was right, though. I’ve been old since I was ten, but now I’m eighty, and still hobbling along just fine. Go figure. Maybe that cowboy benediction had something to do with it. I’d certainly like to think so….

Spectator Sport

William Timberman

Watching President Trump try to beat the Congress into submission has been a uniquely gruesome experience, but also an edifying one. For decades now, the dysfunction of the federal government has been something sensed rather than seen, partly because it was in the interest of the political class to keep it hidden, and partly because the media, ever conscious of which side their bread was buttered on, shared that interest.

Today we’re told by Marc Short, the President’s director of legislative affairs, that the White House is simply “asking that the Congress do its job.” I wonder if he, or his boss, for that matter, has any idea just how big an ask that is. If the experience of the past 40 years or so is anything to go by, the problem isn’t that the Congress won’t do its job, it’s that it can’t. Our tolerance for venality, it seems, has drawn the veil over an alarmingly complete incompetence as well. What happens when you bully a moron? Nothing good, I’m thinking, but with the two-minute warning already being signaled, it looks as though we’re about to find out.