The Blue Raccoon

Friday, November 23, 2007

A Day Late and A Dollar Short
Part I

Spooky Action

Anthropomorphic Chest of Drawers, Salvador DalĂ­

This is "Science Friday" on NPR's Talk of the Nation and Ira Flatow is talking to author Alan Weisman whose "The World Without Us" analyzes the ultimate deterioration of human-made objects, from the Panama Canal to the New York City subway system and the Pyramids, if maintenance stopped. And what is the expected of the continuing existence of such detritus as plastic

The following guest is the cosmologist--what a job title!--Paul Davies, discussing a subject dear to my hear, that is the multiverse theory of physics, or, cosmology/metaphysics. His assessment in his The Cosmic Jackpot is that the Universe has engineered its own self-awareness. Mind an Life are fundamental particles in Creation. Life and and the Universe that brought it into being are part of a explanatory statement. The Universe is a great cosmic computer, and thought its software -- didn't we get this with The Hitch-hiker's Guide To The Galaxy?

He also states with great emphasis that you can't travel back in time or send information through time. Humph. Near as I know, that's all still a theory. See Paul J. Nahin's Time Machines: Time Travel in Physics, Metaphysics, and Science Fiction, Second Edition.

Davies says mind and Universe will at some point in the future merge. What we do today, what human beings choose to measure, what gets measured today effects what happens in the distant past -- sounds weird but weird things happen in quantum physics.

Reality is an amalgam of histories of the past, thus, what we study today, affects the past. Mind/Universe is in a constant process self-revelation--computing itself; refining and polishing. Davies isn't partial to the idea that life was imprinted from outside. The Universe generated Mind. It's always thinking about...itself. What happens when Deep Thought reaches a conclusion?

Spooky Action

All this taken into consideration, I've now experienced Theresa Duncan's History of Glamour, and I'll be writing here about that piece and the current Corocran exhibition of Jeremy Blake's Wild Choir.

Those of the billion-eyed audience who've been following the general train of thought at the Blue Raccoon may have noticed an interest in the suicide deaths of writer/bloggist Theresa Duncan and new media artist Jeremy Blake. Or rather, the reaction to their deaths in the blogosphere.

Now that I've viewed THoG within close proximity to Blake's works, I'm girding to give my views on both. Should anyone care.

There's been a slight uptick on the Duncan-Blake interest meter due to the Corcoran exhibit and one also presented in memoriam at the Kinz, Tillou + Feigen gallery that represented him. The negativity expressed by some trollers also remains: at Gothamist, the Nov. 16 announcement of the Blake show drew two unfeeling remarks, one from Reality Czech: "How to become a famous artist: kill yourself," and ihatellbrokers offered, "not missing you two twits at all! boo hoo hoo!"

But, and here is where the dedicated "Duncanologists" will point and laugh at me; I didn't realize until a few days ago that "The Wit" left a message from the grave. Or did she?

In February 2007, her scan of a New York Times blog by none other than Dick Cavett turned up a story about Basil Rathbone and a communication pertaining to an acquaintance killed in an automobile accident. Verifying this urban myth-esque story would require time, an expense account, and knowledge of how to track down mouldering LAPD files, hospital and morgue records, or hunting through obituaries. Finding the truth would either enhance or diminish Mr. Cavett's good story.

I love me some Dick Cavett, and, well, Theresa Duncan, too--as I Drop Names in the way only the D.C. could (because he met these people--I didn't)--but facts is fact, Basil Rathbone, or not. This accident left a paper trail--if it happened.

So, here we are with a Rigged To Explode On Halloween note from T.D.

Now. One wonders: when and under what circumstances may she have concocted leaving this message -- and the one to come on New Year's Eve?

As our great Mr. Davies might agree: the past changes as we come to greater understanding of the present.

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