Posts tagged ‘movies’
WALT TRIZNA: THE NEWARK DRIVE IN
THE NEWARK DRIVE IN
On the far eastern edge of Newark, tucked between the Jersey City and New York City bound bridges, stood the Newark Drive In. The drive in was directly under the flight path of nearby Newark Airport, which tended to make listening to the movie something of a challenge. When approaching the drive in, you were greeted by the swampy, musty smell of Newark Bay. A resident of ‘The Dumps’ (what the locals called the area surrounding the theater) added to the odors of its refineries and sewage treatment plants to the ambiance of the area.
The drive in was surrounded by a tall wooden fence marking its boundaries with a total lack of landscaping of any kind, being true to the Newark life style – bare essentials is all that you get.
On warm summer nights my family would pack into the old Chevy with food and pillows and head to the drive in. The smaller kids would already be in their pajamas in anticipation of not making it to the second movie of the double feature. Being the oldest, I was given the opportunity to sit up front and in those days of front seats being bench seats, providing plenty of room.
Arriving at the drive in just before dusk, my dad paid and was given the PIC and off we would go. PIC was an insect repellent product. It was a flat spiral affair. You lit the end and it would give off a pungent aroma daring mosquitoes to venture near. I really don’t know if it worked because we would also douse ourselves with insect repellent to ward off the visitors from the nearby swamps.
During this period, mosquito-borne encephalitis (sleeping sickness) was a constant threat. On summer nights in Newark, trucks would go through the city streets emitting clouds of insect repellent.
On these same summer nights in our flat, ineffective screens would keep all but the largest and dumbest insects out of our house. When all were in bed, my mother would walk the length of our flat spraying insect repellent while telling all of us to close our eyes. As we lay in bed, you could feel the particles of spray falling on your body.
Once in the theater, we’d find our spot and park the car at just the right angle on the mound that ran the length of the theater to get a perfect view of the screen for everyone. The smaller kids, in their pajamas, would head for the playground and run around till they couldn’t see what they were doing which also indicated that it was time for the movie to begin.
One movie I recall seeing was entitled Macabre. The movie was supposed to be so scary that you were issued a life insurance policy when you entered the drive in. It was good for the length of the movie and if you should be unlucky enough to die of a fright-induced heart attack during the movie you collected, or you next of kin anyway. The movie was a real bomb; the cartoon was scarier. I wondered though what would have happened if someone would have dropped dead of your usual run-of-the-mill heart attacks.
There was always an intermission between movies, time to advertise the goodies available at the snack bar. The screen would be full of dancing hot dogs and talking cups of soda all counting down the fifteen minutes till the next show. The audience was your typical Newark crowd, the women in their smocks and the dads in their handlebar tee shirts. They thrived on meat and potatoes, with hot dogs and sodas would be your typical snack. But one snack that was advertised every time I went to the drive in was Flavo Shrimp Rolls. The only place you could buy a Flavo Shrimp Roll was at the drive in, they did not exist outside their gates. I’m sure you could get other shrimp rolls someplace else in Newark, maybe in the small China Town on Mulberry Street, but I don’t think your typical Newark crowd ate many shrimp rolls. But up there on the screen, after the hot dogs had danced off you could see the cartoon characters lining up for their Flavo Shrimp Rolls. I think we actually bought one once, only once. It was a deep-fried affair running in grease. I would wonder who looked at the crowd coming into the drive in and said to himself, “These people will buy up Flavo Shrimp Rolls like there’s no tomorrow.”
The Newark Drive In is gone now, long gone. Last I heard, a movie theater stands where the drive in once existed. And I’m sure with the demise of the drive in went the opportunity for anyone to buy a Flavo Shrimp Roll.
ELMO’S SOJOURN, CHAPTER 7
ELMO’S SOJOURN
CHAPTER 7
ATTACK FROM GYLEX
The scene outside the house was peaceful and remained peaceful until the dingo plants began their shrill alarm, joined moments later by the sound of flapping wings. The camera recorded a sight, illuminated by the outside lights that sent a chill through Elmo; it was a vision from hell. What it showed was a creature at least eight feet tall with arms and legs like that of a human. But there the resemblance ceased. It flew. Its wings appeared like that of a bat, leathery and veined, colored blood red, like the rest of its body. The torso was covered with thickly matted black hair, but the head was its most frightening aspect. It resembled the head of a wolf, with an elongated snout exposing a vicious set of teeth. The ears were long and pointed, also like a bat’s. The creature hovered before the camera, snarled at the dingo’s alarm, then flew off.
Valmid paused a few moments for Elmo’s nerves to settle down then said, “These creatures are a menace to the planet Roth, and someday soon they will again menace Earth. We know a great deal about these creatures, although no Rothian has ever set foot on their planet. These creatures do not know of our ability to read their thoughts. Because of their actions, we never attempted to communicate with them. Elmo, when you arrived, you stood in wonderment and amazement at all you witnessed. But when these creatures from Gylex first arrived, they had one thing in mind: to do us harm. The first attack occurred one night many years ago at a remote location and was not discovered for days. A worker making a delivery discovered a man and his son, dead and partially devoured. The wife and the daughter were missing. Later, other attacks were made in more populated areas, and the reality of these monsters became known.
“We learned that the invasion was from the planet Gylex, which had been wracked by a strange illness, a virus that destroyed most of the female population. It was finally controlled, but not until ninety percent of the females were dead. You now know Elmo, that our biochemistry is very similar – almost identical. The Gylexans share this similarity. The sexual chemistry of us all is also similar. The hormones and mating rituals are almost identical. Only the gestation periods vary slightly. The primary purpose of the invasion of Roth was to abduct females to sustain their population. Once captured, the females were implanted with embryos created with eggs harvested from Gylexian females before the females died.”
Elmo shivered at the thought of being touched by one of these monsters, let alone carried to their planet.
“We are a peaceful civilization, unable to defend ourselves from these monsters. We found that the dingo plants, with their extended nocturnal strands, would warn of an invasion. The Gylexans came only at night, for their planet had an odious and polluted atmosphere allowing very little light to penetrate. They cannot bear the life-giving light of our days.”
Valmid paused for a moment and his eyes filled with tears. “One day,” he said, “our daughter was visiting friends. The dingo plants of the house had not yet surrounded the dwelling with their strands, allowing the fiends to strike and abduct our girl. Those are her clothes you are wearing now.”
Elmo’s heart sank at this knowledge. “But Valmid, you said Earth was also in danger and had been invaded in the past. We have had no invasions by these beasts.”
“Ah Elmo,” Valmid replied, “but you have. From the Gylexian thoughts we found that Earth had been invaded, your females captured and returned to Gylex. These monsters kept a low profile on Earth because of your weapons, and the ease with which your society uses them without hesitation. Earth abductions continued for some time, until an invasion team became deathly ill. One day, a group of them died; dropped to the ground and instantly decayed. A lone survivor, near death, returned to Gylex and reported this development. Gylex then ceased its Earth invasions. They had not consumed anything on your planet, so they assumed something in your atmosphere was killing them. But these monsters are persistent. They continued to send parties for short periods of time – always returning to Gylex close to death. That is until recently. They still cannot remain on your planet for long, but the time they can tolerate visits is lengthening. I fear soon the invasion of Earth will begin again.”
Elmo thought for a moment. He did recall remembering a series of unexplained disappearances of women early in the twentieth century.
“I’ve been to your planet Elmo, so have others from Roth. But because of the strict rules of our people, we are not allowed to interfere with your civilization. Imagine the hysteria that would ensue if I were to appear. Knowing your love for weaponry, I doubt if I would have existed long enough to tell my story. You cannot imagine the joy, the relief all my brothers and I felt when you came to us. We hope to learn of this component contained in your atmosphere and banish this plague from our planet.”
Elmo’s mind was overwhelmed by this awesome assignment. “I am a physicist, not a chemist,” he protested. But his mind began to consider the evidence. Something in the Earth’s atmosphere sickened these beasts. The concentration of whatever it was continued to climb until it began killing them. Now, it is decreasing, yet this mysterious component of Earth’s atmosphere remains unknown. Elmo considered, “The only component of the atmosphere that is changing is carbon dioxide – producing the supposed greenhouse effect. But that gas continues to increase as the population and industry of our planet grows.”
Valmid stood and said, “It is nearly dawn, we should all get some rest.” He extended his hand to Cal and, as Elmo bounced along behind, they went upstairs.
Elmo went to bed but not to sleep. He pondered what he had just been told. Finally, he fell asleep with his mind still in torment. Blinding light entered through the unshielded window, awakening Elmo as his mind once again filled with the mystery he was asked to solve. He lay there thinking and testing theory after theory. There was nothing he could think of that had increased in the Earth’s atmosphere, then decreased without being detected. Elmo decided he must rest more. He cleared his mind and suddenly it came to him – crystal clear. He sat upright in bed and struck his forehead with his hand. “Of course, that has to be it!”
Valmid was aware of Elmo’s thoughts all morning. He now entered Elmo’s bedroom with a smile on his face “Come my friend,” he said, “we have much to plan and work to do.”
ELMO’S INVENTION, CHAPTER 7
ELMO’S INVENTION
CHAPTER 7
THE TIME MACHINE REVEALED
Mildred watched as the members of the Tinkerer’s Club ascended the stairs from the cellar and prepared to depart. Harold Kinter, William Dupree and James Forsyth bid her goodbye. Much to her surprise, Kingsley Dasher took her hand and said, “Elmo has a marvelous intellect, and his invention could someday garner you a great deal of money. Only time will tell.” With that he walked out the door and was gone.
Elmo was the last to depart the cellar and Mildred could immediately tell that things had not gone as well as he had anticipated. She was puzzled by Elmo’s downtrodden appearance and Kingsley’s departing comment. Wanting to question her husband, she asked, “Elmo, why don’t I pour us some coffee and we have some dessert?”
Elmo, distracted by his thoughts, after a moment, replied, “That’s fine with me, my dear. I have a great deal on my mind, and perhaps talking would help. Things did not go as I had hoped during the meeting, and I need to gather my thoughts. I am confused about the future of my invention. Nothing is going as I had planned.”
Mildred set the kitchen table with two steaming mugs and plates of Elmo’s favorite dessert, spice cake. She watched Elmo sip his coffee and then push the dessert away. Now she knew something was definitely wrong. Elmo never refused spice cake. “What happened in the cellar?” Mildred asked.
Elmo hesitated, and then began, “I demonstrated my time machine using the kitten and the results were as I expected. To everyone’s surprise, Kingsley made a comment after the experiment. As he began to speak, I expected him to give insight into why the machine was not working, but to my surprise he said that it was working. Only it was working in a manner not that I appreciated. He said that I had invented the perfect prison and that my machine had the potential to change society.”
Mildred sat deep in thought remembering what Kingsley had said before departing. Suddenly her face lit up, “He’s right. I never would have made the connection. The man’s a genius. I’m so proud of you, Elmo. Your invention will change our society.”
This did not serve to heal Elmo’s fragile ego, instead, Mildred’s comment only served to increase its fragility.
Elmo had invested a great deal of effort in planning and then building his machine. Now, not only did it not work, but someone else had discovered its use.
Mildred could see that her husband was deeply upset. She extended her hand across the table and said, “Come to bed, my dear. Perhaps there is something I can do to improve your mood.” Mildred was successful, but it wasn’t long before matters took a drastic turn. Once again it was something that Kingsley had hinted might happen, but even he could not predict the extent of the turmoil Elmo’s machine would cause.
* * *
To this day Elmo doesn’t know how it happened or who was the one to break the secrecy surrounding the meeting of the Tinkerer’s Club. For a moment he thought maybe Mildred, but no, she would never break his confidence. He was sure it wasn’t Kingsley. Kingsley had trouble communicating with the members of the club. Elmo could not picture him going to the press or even breaking the club’s confidence with a friend. Elmo doubted he had few friends outside the club. That left James Forsyth, William Dupree and Harold Kinter as the culprit. He questioned them all and everyone denied that they talked about the machine. Elmo knew one of them was lying. His money was on either James Forsyth or William Dupree.
James was a people person and loved being the center of attention. He also enjoyed talking about his work and Elmo could just picture him letting slip the nature of the Tinkerer’s meeting. James’ tongue was often ahead of his brain when he really got going in a conversation.
William was also a suspect. Being short, and as most short people, he feared being ignored, feared being lost in a crowd – literally. So how better to avoid being lost than becoming its center. Elmo could picture him trying to impress people. Telling them of a great new device that would do away with prisons and save society billions of dollars. And after explaining all this, whispering, “Now promise that you won’t tell a soul.”
The more he thought about who the culprit might be, the more Elmo became sure that William was the guilty party, but William, as well as the rest of the members present that night, emphatically denied speaking about the machine to anyone.
The manner in which Elmo discovered that the secrecy of the Tinkerer’s Club meeting had been broken was a phone call he received from a local newspaper. Published only once a week, The Los Alamos Herald was primarily concerned with community events, births, weddings and funerals. Most of what was news in the town of Los Alamos was Top Secret so there really wasn’t much to report. When word of Elmo’s invention began to spread through the tight-knit community, the paper was all over it.
One evening, while Elmo and Mildred were enjoying their supper, the phone rang. “I’ll get it,” said Elmo as he rose to answer. This was long before the age of telemarketers, and for that matter, answering machines. When the phone rang you knew it was something important. Elmo answered, “Hello.”
A voice on the other end said, “Hello, this is Nate Bush calling from The Los Alamos Herald. I’d like to speak to Dr. Elmo Baker.”
Mildred watched Elmo and saw his expression range between puzzlement and fear.
Elmo said, “Elmo here. What can I do for you?”
“I’ve been told you’ve invented a rather unique machine, a machine that may do away with prisons. Could you comment on this device?”
Elmo did not know how he should answer. He thought the events of the meeting would remain confidential. He now felt anger and frustration and did not know where to direct it. He had to respond. He couldn’t lie for he would soon be filing a patent for his machine. “I have built a device that can age the occupant to a predetermined age.”
“How long does this process take?”
Elmo responded, “Oh, just a matter of minutes.”
“How exactly does it work?”
Elmo was not about to admit that he really didn’t know that it was intended to be a time machine and that something went wrong, so he answered, “I’d rather wait until I patent the device before I divulge its workings. Also, I’d appreciate it if you would postpone writing any article until I receive the patent.”
Nate was disappointed at this request but felt he had to respect Elmo’s wishes. He responded, “I’ll write-up the article and wait until I hear that your patent has been granted.”
Elmo, somewhat relieved, said, “I would appreciate that a great deal. I’ll give you a call when the patent is approved.”
After hanging up the phone, Elmo said to Mildred, “Someone broke their word. That was The Los Alamos Herald, and they want to know about my invention. I can’t believe all this is happening about something I truly do not understand.”
* * *
Later that day George Holkum walked over to Nate’s desk. The paper was losing money and George, the managing editor, needed to turn that around.
He asked Nate, “How did that prison thing interview go? Are we dealing with a nutcase or what?”
Nate began to perspire. He knew that the paper was in trouble and needed sales. He also knew he had a fantastic story, but he had given his word. Nate said, “I think it’s the real thing. The man is a scientist, and he wants to keep things quiet until he gets a patent.”
George said, “Publish the story. Maybe it will increase our circulation. We’re not in a position to not publish something important. We have a responsibility to the stockholders.”
Nate responded, “But boss, I gave my word.”
“Your word won’t sell papers. Publish your story!”
THE RELUCTANT ZOMBIE: A SHORT STORY
The Reluctant Zombie is a humorous short story involving a college professor visiting Haiti where he succeeds in getting himself turned into a zombie.
It has been previously published by Blood, Blade & Thruster in their Winter 2006/2007 issue.
THE RELUCTANT ZOMBIE
As Norman stumbled through the dank Haitian swamp, he groaned, “Willard, it seems so unnatural walking around with my arms outstretched, but I can’t put them down. I have an image to uphold.”
Willard, who was also stumbling along shook his head and sighed, “Of course its unnatural, you’re a zombie, damn it – your image is history.”
Norman complained, “I didn’t ask to be a zombie.” With some difficulty he swiveled his neck and surveyed the Haitian countryside.
Norman took in the landscape surrounding him. He walked through a village. It was nothing more than a few huts of mud and straw along a dusty road. Chickens pecked in the brush along the roadside. Chickens! For some reason their presence made him uncomfortable. “I really don’t want to be a zombie,” Norman muttered. He was a forty-year-old college professor, a dark-haired trim man always dressed well. Now he was walking around covered in grim and dressed in rags.
Willard said, “If you didn’t want to be a zombie, you shouldn’t have runover the old voodoo woman’s chickens with your jeep. Was she pissed… She’s also the one that converted me into a zombie, but that’s another story.”
Norman looked at Willard and could not guess what he once looked like. Willard was pale, gaunt and also dressed in rags. His age was made undeterminable by his zombie state.
“As soon as you angered her she began making one of her little dolls. She cackled while she worked. That’s never a good sign. That doll is now where your soul now resides.”
“I can’t believe this is happening to me, Willard. I came to Haiti to do research on Haitian religions. I am, or was, respected and well-publicized anthropologist. Now look at me. I’m wearing rags and walking around like a … like a …”
“Zombie?” asked Willard.
“Just because I ran over a few chickens?”
“Um, Norman, they looked like chickens, but they weren’t. Nothing around the voodoo woman’s house is what it appears to be. They were once her enemies. She changed them into chickens, and you freed them from pecking for insects along the road for the rest of their lives. You ended their suffering. So naturally, in her anger, she turned you into a zombie. I’m here to instruct zombies how to attack people and teach them what are the best parts to eat.”
Norman made a face at this remark.
“Now what’s the matter?” asked Willard.
Norman sighed, “I’m a vegetarian, but I do eat dairy.”
Willard said with discuss, “There are no vegetarian zombies. And attacking the dairy section of a store is not going to do much for the zombie image.”
Norman grumbled, “Oh, I wouldn’t want to do anything to detract from the zombie image. Give be a break.”
As the two zombies were arguing, Willard happened to glance over at the woman’s house. There she stood in the doorway. Willard could tell she was not happy.
She hobbled toward Willard and Norman, a waddling mass adorned with bones and beads. Her crown of thick dreadlocks made her appear as if some multi-legged beast was sitting on her head.
The old voodoo woman shouted at Norman, “I know you be a troublemaker, with your fancy jeep, running over people’s property.”
Norman mumbled, “Sorry about the chickens.”
“You sorry alright. You be good and sorry real soon.”
The old woman produced her Norman doll, lifted the doll skyward, and began chanting in a low rumbling voice.
Norman’s soul returned to his body. He felt like his old self. He laughed with relief, then glanced up. Willard stumbled toward him; arms raised.
Willard, old buddy, we’re friends – right?”
Willard only groaned and roared.
Norman looked desperately for an escape. On either side of him zombies with ash-grey complexions staggered in his direction. He was surrounded.
The old voodoo woman said, “Here be my children, and they be hungry.” She cackled as the circle of zombies grew smaller and smaller around Norman.
From beyond the wall of the living dead, Norman pleaded, “Please, make me a chicken!”
The End
THE LEGEND OF FRENCH CREEK, PART VII
The Legend
of
French Creek
The blackness of the forest became full of a milk-white vapor, although above, the sky was full of stars. There was no wind, yet the mist came rapidly from different directions and formed a shell of white around the concrete slab. Soon the vapor took the form of a house, becoming a solid structure. Windows, now present, glowed bright red and I could see figures dancing within. The door of the house opened and there appeared a group of naked men and women horribly burned, their bodies smoking. I wanted to look away but could not. Their obscene presence came toward me. They lunged at me. Their hideous laughter screamed in my ears. Now the horrors surrounded me. My mind could not take any more. I lost consciousness and dreamed of daemons and devils surrounding me in an attempt to capture my soul.
I awoke the next morning with a feeling of dread, not wanting to open my eyes. The ruin was the same as it appeared the night before, although the debris on the forest floor leading to my campsite appeared disturbed. I looked down, and to my horror, my sleeping bag bore handprints burnt into the fabric.
I packed up my gear and headed down the trail to meet my wife and return to the comfort of my home, never wanting to return to French Creek Park again.
* * *
I tried to make the horror of that night clear of my mind, but it wouldn’t happen. I felt I had brought something back from that gruesome night and could not escape its presence. Damned if I could figure out what it was. So, I switched gears and embraced the event. After some research on the Druids, I worked my experience and new-found background into a few stories that I managed to sell.
Nearly a year had passed since that dreadful night, when Joan announced, “I think we need to get away. How about a short four-day vacation?”
“Sounds great, but it better be cheap,” I said. “You know money is tight.”
“Camping is not expensive,” she answered. I’ve reserved a site from June 19 to June 22.” She saw my face grow deathly pale, and then quickly added, “A site at Rickett’s Glen.”
“I thought you were talking about French Creek. I’m never going back there again.”
I tried to make the horror of that night clear of my mind, but it wouldn’t happen. I felt I had brought something back from that gruesome night and could not escape its presence. Damned if I could figure out what it was. So, I switched gears and embraced the event. After some research on the Druids, I worked my experience and new-found background into a few stories that I managed to sell.
Nearly a year had passed since that dreadful night, when Joan announced, “I think we need to get away. How about a short four-day vacation?”
“Sounds great, but it better be cheap,” I said. “You know money is tight.”
“Camping is not expensive,” she answered. I’ve reserved a site from June 19 to June 22.” She saw my face grow deathly pale, and then quickly added, “A site at Ricketts Glen.”
“I thought you were talking about French Creek. I’m never going back there again.”
CAT’S EYES, PART V
CAT’S EYES, PART V
The weeks went by slowly for Joe as his vision continued to deteriorate. He experienced a few side effects from the drug, but nothing serious. Finally, the day for his pre-op and conference with the surgeon arrived. He drove to the hospital to meet Dr. Greg Glassy.
After his pre-op exam, he found Glassy’s office and was soon led in. The man who rose from behind the large, cluttered desk was much younger than Joe expected. Joe doubted he was thirty-five.
Greg Glassy was tall and thin. He looked more like he belonged on a basketball court than in a surgical suite. The two men shook hands and Glassy motioned for Joe to sit down. Glassy said, “Joe, you’re about to make a great contribution to science by taking the first step in helping blind people to regain their vision. I must say that I would feel more comfortable to replace your eyes with those of a primate, but in all honesty, primates carry a host of diseases that are easily transferred to humans.”
“I appreciate your concern and help, Dr. Glassy. You’re well aware of my condition. I chose to have cat’s eyes to help me with my writing. I can’t explain it because I don’t fully understand what I will see, but I feel it will help my work.”
“Joe, you must understand that there is a huge risk of total blindness. The only reason I’ve agreed to use feline eyes is because of the article you brought to Howard’s attention. There is a good chance your optic nerves will fuse with the feline nerves.” After more discussion, Dr. Glassy rose, extended his hand, and said, “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”
CAT’S EYES, PART III
CAT’S EYES, PART III
Joe met Howard at their usual spot and shared small talk through the first few rounds. Howard noticed that Joe suddenly became quiet and stared at him. Finally, Howard asked, “What’s on your mind, buddy?”
“Howard, I’ve been thinking about the eye transplant procedure you told me about.”
“Stop thinking about it, Joe. You have to take the person’s eyes out while they’re still alive. Except for some kidney and liver transplants, most transplants are not done until the donor is declared dead. Even for someone brain-dead, they do not begin harvesting until they pull the plug, and by then it’s too late for an eye transplant. I can’t imagine a family consenting to a transplant of a loved one’s eyes while the patient is still alive.”
Joe hesitated, and then said, “I don’t want human eyes.”
Howard cried, “What the hell, are you nuts?”
His raised voice brought stares from the other patrons who then rapidly returned to their drinks.
Joe continued, “Listen, Howard. I’ve been doing some research on my own, along with something I’ve observed in cats.”
Howard laughed, “This has got to be good,” but his body language indicated a total lack of ease.
Joe said, “I was looking up research involving cats and ran across an article published in The Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences concerning the cat’s central nervous system: how it easily repairs itself. Maybe this is true of other nerves, like the optic nerve. Maybe the optic nerve could join with that of another species and restore sight.”
Howard began to feel uncomfortable. “Where the hell are you going with this, Joe?”
“I’m going blind. That’s where I’m going. I know I won’t be totally blind, but in my profession; I might as well be.”
“Now listen, Joe. There are plenty of options you can use to continue writing. Look into them.”
“Howard, I want to continue writing as I do now, just me, a pencil and a piece of paper. I don’t want a life where I can’t sit down anywhere I want and write. I’ve also become acquainted with what is known about how cats see. There’s something else, and you’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“Joe, I’ve passed that milestone some time ago.”
“I think cats can see something I can’t, that humans can’t. I want my eyes replaced with that of a cat.”
“Shit, Joe, you are nuts.”
“No, listen, Howard. A baboon heart was once implanted into a child when there was no hope of the child surviving. Pig valves are routinely used in heart surgery. Why not transplant cat’s eyes?”
They drank another beer in silence. Joe was talked out and Howard was pondering about what Joe had said. Howard broke the silence. “Damn it, Joe. I’ll talk to my friend. I also want to find out more about cat vision. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll see what I can do. And Joe.”
“Yes?”
“I still think you’re nuts.”
Joe’s mood lifted, “Thanks buddy. You’ve given me some hope.”
THE LONGEST MINUTE, A BOOK REVIEW
THE LONGEST MINUTE, A BOOK REVIEW
BY
MATTHEW J. DAVENPORT
The subject of The Longest Minute is the disastrous San Francisco earthquake of 1906. The destruction of property and loss of life due to the quake was huge. But the larger tragedy was caused by the massive fire which resulted from the earthquake.
The fire initially burned unchecked due to the magnitude of the destruction and the lack of adequate firefighting of that era.
One problem was the lack of fire hydrants due to corruption involved in their installation. Another problem was the formation of firebreaks by blowing up structures in the path of the fire. Initially, black powder was used due to the lack of immediate availability of dynamite. The black powder explosions only served to spread the fire with flying embers.
The emergency response was less than organized. A disaster of this extent was unexpected. The infant fire department was overwhelmed. The police were also stretched too thin, so assistance was requested from the military. The army and navy provided officers and men with their only orders were to aid the police with handling the disaster. That was it. There was a total lack of guidance or details on how to accomplish this. There was no plan, just do the job. Luckly, the military personnel assigned were resourceful and capable in making a meaningful contribution and provide immediate aid to population of San Francisco.
The level of destruction was not difficult to determine, but the loss of life was impossible to total. Many of the residents were reduced to ash mingled with the destroyed structures.
To deter looters the mayor issued a ‘shoot to kill’ order and at least one rescue worker was killed.
Once the world was made aware of the calamity, aid poured in without any hesitation. This was much different than the present-day opinion that no matter what happened in the United States the country could handle it on its own.
All in all, this is a thoroughly researched book providing a minute by minute telling of the disaster and the reconstruction of the city and how corruption in that effort reared its ugly head. And the telling heroic acts of individuals called upon to act with no plan, only a mission.
This book is a well-worth read of a major disaster experienced by the country.
THE WAR OF THE WORLDS
COMPARING THE 1953 MOVIE TO THE NOVEL
Of the movies two movies made using
the novel as a guide in 1953 and 2005, my favorite is the movie made in 1953.
Yet that is the movie, of the two, which least resembles the book.
The premise of the movie is an
alien invasion from Mars. This nails down where the invasion originates, of
course, the title serves the same purpose. I say this premise follows the novel
for an alien invasion could come from any planet or any solar system.
One nice touch in the 2005 movie
was to include Gene Barry who plays Dr. Clayton Forrester and Ann Robinson who
plays Sylvia van Buren in the 1953 movie as the grandparents at the end of the
2005 movie.
To begin with, the Martians arrive at
what, at first, appears to be a meteorite. After a short period of time men
guarding the object detect a unscrewing at the top of the object and a device
appearing which destroys the men. What is never explained is how the Martian
machines make their exit with only the small aperture revealed.
In the published description of the
movie, it is said that heat rays are used to cause destruction. But if memory
serves, there were two types of rays. One was a heat ray which caused most of
the destruction and set fires. But initially a ray was used causing men and
vehicles to disappear and is described as a ray which destroys the energy which
joins molecules. Hence, the ray causes whatever it hits to fall apart.
Another difference between the book
to both movies is that the entire planet is under attack. In the novel only
England is involved, the home of H. G. Wells.
In the 1953 movie the machines
arrive already constructed whereas in the novel, upon arrival of the cylinders,
the machines must be firs constructed. Also, the machines in the movie do not
appear as described in the book. The machines in the novel walk on three
extended legs whereas the machines in the movie appear to hover with the theory
that they are manipulating gravity. The machines in the movie are protected by
a force-field. In the novel they can be destroyed.
In both movies and the novel there
is a scene where the characters are hiding in a farmhouse. In the 1953 movie
the characters escape with a rag soaked with Martian blood. In the novel and
the 2005 movie what occurs in the farmhouse is similar with the final result
being the death of a character.
The blood collected and analyzed
reveals that the Martians are anemic and have a poorly developed immune system
which leads to their demise. This failure for the Martians to survive is true
in both movies and the book.
Here is a link to the published version of the 1953 movie.
The War
of the Worlds (1953 film) – Wikipedia
OBSERVATIONS & ONPIONS
POST WAR OF THE WORLDS
The other day I watched the movie War of the Worlds made in 1953 based on the famous novel by H. G. Wells written in 1898. I can’t tell you how many times I have watched this movie and consider it one of my favorite if not my favorite science fiction movie. I also enjoy watching the 2005 version of the movie by the same name.
In the latest version the machines are more in tune with those in the novel, supported by tripods. But I think there is a basic flaw. It is hinted in the movie that the machines were buried on the earth maybe a million years ago. Wouldn’t their technology change over that length of time? Would they know the machines were still functional? Why would they think they would one day invade earth? These are just thoughts on the movies and not the purpose of this piece.
I think it is interesting to speculate what happens after the movie ends. Do the Martians launch another attack on earth, this time wearing spacesuits so they won’t die? And the earth has been decimated. How would the rebuild go?
Think Tokyo after World War II. What about the machines? Would man gain great knowledge from these devices improving life. And then there is the possibility of manufacturing new weapons and means of cloaking making the weapons indestructible. Would man use these new weapons for possibly more threats from space. Or more likely, would they wind up using them on each other.
Walttriznastories's Blog 