Another bottle of The Balvenie

The last of another bottle of The Balvenie 10 year old scotch just got poured into my glass. I'm not sure when I bought the bottle. Am guessing this scotch is 12 years old by now. I bought a new bottle Saturday, knowing that I was getting down to my last quarter inches. I can actually remember buying this stuff 6, 7?, years ago for just under $30 a bottle. Saturday, it was $46. Obviously, I've put my money in the wrong stock... I'm doubting,... the price of whiskey, probably didn't shudder a drop over 9/11. Just like the price of oil...

Now, with the price of oil hitting $77, the powers that be are deciding that shale and sand oil are going to be profitable ventures. But the cost of these energies, is energies. The first law of thermodynamics is the conservation of energy. The age of life on earth is approximately 2 billion years. Life conserves energy in carbon matter, and so when you're talking about geological carbon energy you're really talking about 2 billion years of solar power... When I watch the news, I can't help but thinking, we as human beings have become capable of burning all that energy up in, what?, a couple of centuries... The question really becomes, how is the earth going to be capable of withstanding the conservation of 2 billion years of solar energy within the 3 hundred years, in which we're re-innervating it...

The Best Movie In Many A Moons...

I just finished watching The Matador with Pierce Brosnan and Greg Kinear. A few months ago I enjoyed watching 16 Blocks because I thought Bruce Willis gave a tremendous performance. Well, PB out does him in The Matador. But not only that, ... this is a far better movie. Great story, great dialogue, great pictures, great color. Won't say more, but when you're in the video store, is worth checking out.

Gothic At Last

In the past six months I read two novels about artists destroying their art. Both were actually very good. The first was the The Book of Illusions, by Paul Auster; l'autre: The Shadow of the Wind by Zafon. When I finished the latter a week ago, I kissed the cover. I loved that book. Basically for 3 weeks I lived in Barcelona circa 1945-1955. And every page was a gem. The characters were like brothers, amongst themselves, but also, because so, somehow including you, (or me), the reader in their family.

It is interesting, the idea of destroying their art. In essense, erasing their existence... They were 2 different takes on it though; Paul Auster had the artist basically in control of his own fate by a good half way through the book; it was mistaking human phlegm on the sidewalk for some pearly gem that was the problem. Zafon's artist is never really in control of his fate at all, at least not until he got a little help. But it was Fascist Spain, and history was dancing like unto the siren's song... oh, and, uh, it was gothic...