A Brief Respite

Newark Demons, Family, Autumnal Horror, and Restoring Artemisia

Autumn at Timber Creek

So the last week has been a lot, a relief in some ways and a return to the background noise of dread that siren-sings in our ears as we try to navigate modern life. I’m glad that the “red wave” didn’t capsize us, but the storm is far from over. I’m sorry that Texas kept their feckless governor. I’m glad that Pennsyltucky rejected the latest TV huckster. It all feels like what it is, a brief respite. So take your rest when you can.

Here’s a reminder that evil can be defeated, even when it is smart and powerful. I’m not sure what made me think of the '80s-era Twilight Zone episode, “I of Newton,” starring Sherman Helmsley as a mathematician who inadvertently summons a demon—played with extra relish by Ron Glass—while trying to solve an equation. I was going to college in Newark when I first saw it, and one of the demon’s t-shirts—which change every time we see him—reads, “Hell is a City Much Like Newark.” It’s under ten minutes and it’s fun, check it out:

The Brick City gets a bad rap; it has problems, but it’s not hell, even outside of the glorious diverse Ironbound, where you can dip into a Portuguese bakery for a roll, then nip over to Krug’s Tavern for the state’s best burger, in a bar first owned by boxer Jake LaMotta and still run by his family, then skip up to the Priory for soul food and jazz in a former church, or to Down Neck for a pizza. The traffic and driving will be hellish, but not the city or the people.

And I think that’s what I love about New Jersey. It’s congested in the cities, but we get a lot of immigrants and passers-through. As someone said on the r/newjersey subreddit, New Jerseyans are not friendly, but they are kind. Meaning we are brash, and you won’t get a smile, but if you need help, we’re there. When that TV show What Would You Do? came and presented bystanders with cruel behavior or thievery, we consistently stood up for bullied kids, victims of pranks, and hapless travelers.¹

It is far from perfect here. We nearly elected a Trump-loving governor last year and also gave the world Chris Christie, but we get a lot for our high taxes. My neighbor hates the current President, but he loves our cat and feeds Louie even though the little ingrate bites the hand that feeds him. I wanted to share this post by Lauren Hough before the election, to talk about not giving up on family with intractable views. It reminds me of Escaping the Rabbit Hole by Mick West, on how to talk to conspiracy theorist friends: with respect. It’s tough to not rage at people. But it’s not helpful.

Family

Lauren also wrote a great article about traveling to Marfa, Texas. I heard about the Marfa Lights ages ago and want to see them, even if they are just reflections on the hills or whatever. I’ve been thinking about a road trip across Texas and the southwest, and this piece make me inch closer to doing it.

I’ve been spending way too much money to stave off my anxiety about the future. But The Lounge Pit needed a Paul Lynde pillow! Who doesn’t? He’s a hero and an inspiration and I love the bastard:

Some other great reading from recently includes “Breaking My Father Out of the Hospice Unit to Go to the Italian Market,” by Janine Certo. It’s a poem for people who don’t think they like poetry.

Starve Acre, by Andrew Michael Hurley is the third novel by folk horror master Hurley, author of The Loney and Devil's Day. This one was commissioned as part of the Eden Book Society project by Dead Ink, meant to be “lost books of folk horror written under pen names.” Anyone who enjoys a doomed family on cursed inherited land suffering the madness of grief (who doesn’t?) will find this the perfect companion for a bleak winter season. A tightly written tale of character driven dread that fans of The Witch will appreciate. And echoing a discussion with Kim Parkhurst, why does folk horror always have to be bleak? If you’ve got recommendations for some that is whimsical, eerie, or strange without all-devouring evil, bring it on.

And I do love a good Muffler Man. Technically this Viking is a rug man, for Viking Carpet, but we call these towering edifices of roadside kitsch Muffler Men because the majority were for muffler shops and once held giant mufflers. I live near “Nitro Gal,” a repurposed Miss Uniroyal Tire statue, and she makes me smile every time I drive by her to go to the car wash to get the Pine Barrens mud off the underbody… and I can still smell the earthy aroma of the pines when my engine gets hot!

Just look at that thane sashay, with his cranberry tunic and pumpkin purse! How could you not smile, passing him on a country road? He’s at Orr’s Flooring Center (why not Orr’s Floors? jeez, it’s right there) in Bridgeton, New Jersey.

With the Dahmer show on TV, serial killers are back on people’s minds. They used to be captivating to me, until I read John Douglas. Now they’re boring. Writers sure love turning them into geniuses, but in general, they are white men who know how to use their privilege and choose victims that don’t have any. But they have a following, and it’s creepy. In France, a “serial killer expert” who claimed he was pushed into becoming an expert after his girlfriend was murdered by one, turned out to be a huge fraud. It’s an infuriating, satisfying read.

So there’s your catharsis read, what else I got? Artimesia Gentileschi, a near-forgotten Italian painter who endured a hell of a lot and painted that famous beheading of a rapist piece, was commissioned by Michelangelo to paint his ceiling. Then one of his prudish ancestors had a blouse painted on the nude. Now, we’re going to see a digital restoration of her original work. She’s known for enduring torture by judges when she put her rapist on trial, and her work is often seen through that lens, which reduces her to victimhood. She’s much more, and check out her work.

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1. And they we called ‘em a frickin’ mook.