A commenter recently raised the topic of the moon, and this is such a juicy topic for a site like ours. I provided my theory then, that our moon was originally one of the moons of Jupiter, placed here with Earth…and I wanted to more formally expand upon that here. Keep in mind, I say “theory” in the strictly scientific sense. This is just an idea, and I welcome feedback (one commenter already very helpful in that regard). Keep reading, and see if you think I might be onto something.
As we settled in here for a long winter, with heavy snow in late October followed by a couple of lesser storms, I realized we had many long nights ahead of us here in the Colorado Rockies. I decided to subscribe to HBO. In so doing, Game of Thrones became available to us. I was one of those who had never watched an episode in all of its eight-year run, but I did recall seeing some naked blond woman (Daenerys Targaryen played by Emelia Clarke) standing in front of a burning building one time. We must have been in a motel.
So, we settled in this winter to watch one episode per night.
Three Days of the Condor is a 1975 movie starring Robert Redford, Faye Dunaway, Cliff Robertson, Max von Sydow, and John Houseman. Those are the only names I recognize. I watched it two nights ago on Prime, falling asleep, and then picking up where I left off yesterday afternoon. This is life as a senior citizen.
I liked the movie. I should stop there.
I am more than a trifle curious about a movie I have heard about but not seen, called Hidden Figures. The plot is easily seen to be contrived by the movie’s closing. There we learn that mathematician Katherine Johnson did some of the calculations that got astronauts Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin to the moon and back. Since neither man left this planet to set foot in that one, no calculating (of the mathematical variety) was needed. Therefore, shall we just set the movie aside?
I would do so but there is another facet to it of interest … a delicate subject which needs cautious introduction, that of the dignity of African-Americans, allowing them to partake in the rich hoaxes visited upon us along with the wealthy landed gentry who own us and our world. Why not deal them into the game too?
This post is accompanied by a delicate fuse and a bomb that can easily go off in your face. Treat it with caution. Comment at your own risk.
This clip is from the 1981 movie My Dinner with Andre. Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory, playing themselves, share their lives over the course of an evening meal at a restaurant. Gregory, on the right, is far more talkative. As I listened to him I was impressed at his ability to memorize a long speech.
A reader suggested that I take a look at Charlie Sheen as being a Matt Damon Batch member, and I didn’t have to look long. There are certain characteristics that immediately jump out at me, among them the part on the left side of the head, the square jaw, and what has to be considered ruggedly handsome features of leading man quality.
Before I return to the earlier Peculiar Plots, I stumbled upon this story, that deserves being part of the series. Again, the plot is so ridiculously contradictory, that it baffles people actually believe these kinds of plots. The plot holes are so deep and pervasive, the story could just be called a talking Swiss cheese.
The Stalag Luft III allegedly was a prisoner-of-war (POW) camp of Nazi Germany in the extreme east of the Altreich (the borders of Germany pre-WWII), in present-day Poland. It is said there were “10,949” prisoners (unknown if this is a cumulative number or the maximum at one moment) consisting of British RAF and US American USAF and other nationality prisoners. The two compounds of the camp are said to have been guarded by 800 Nazi officers.
Needing to get away from the Perón‘s (there is one more segment to follow with another startling discovery from Richard Juckes), I decided to do something quick and dirty. Somewhere I saw a photo of Sylvester Stallone playing polo. That’s not a big deal, as the man is very athletic. But it is incongruent. Stallone is said to be from Hell’s Kitchen and a broken home one who did odd jobs like cleaing animal cages to make his living as a youth. Polo is a difficult sport that takes years of practice to be good. Stallone has described it as like playing golf during an earthquake.
A few years back I was alive with the excitement of a discovery that changed my outlook, that “Paul McCartney” was actually two men, a set of twins. Once I got a thorough immersion in their faces, they became easily to tell apart, so that I can easily see that today’s Paul McCartney is actually “Mike,” though we do not have the luxury of knowing their real names.
That information in tow, I put together a (in retrospect, sloppy) blog post on the matter, and submitted it to Miles Mathis. He rejected it as not up to standards, which I easily accepted, as I was indeed a newbie. At a certain point in the succeeding conversation he suggested one flaw in my writing: “You make too many assumptions.”
I was not prepared to accept this comment from XE on first reading. It sat uncomfortably even as I know I can be fooled, and have been time and again.
I watched the movie Grizzly Man in 2005, and we met Timothy Treadwell at a lecture in either Bozeman or Billings, Montana. That created personal interest. What I wrote before was the result of twelve-year-old memories.
Back then I did not watch movies with a discerning eye. I still thought jets flew through buildings like a knife through butter. I thought that elections were real, that news was essentially a (distorted) reflection of reality, and that a movie labeled “documentary” by its makers would be an honest enterprise.
I had to watch the movie again, and did yesterday afternoon.