I was getting ready to post on Heracles stealing some cattle and how this relates to the mysterious milk cans running along the milky way in Erin Sullivan’s Springfield Creamery Mural, when I found this article in the New York Times about a book Pynchon did not author. This article mentions a cameo appearance by Pynchon on ‘The Simpsons’. Matt Groening said HIS Springfield is in Oregon, where I dwell.
The folks who painted the Kesey mural also did the Simpson mural on the side of the Emerald Arts building. On the opposite wall there is a large mural of the Oregon Trail that my kindred, John Fremont, explored.
Last night I went to the Second Friday Art Walk and got pushed around by The Paparazzi. Like Michael Powell said;
“I can’t get any respect!”
Let’s get some facts straight. Thomas Pynchon and John Freemont, are in my family tree, and thus Thomas is kin to the famous Benton muralists – and Mel Lyman! Tom is kin to my late sister, the world famous artist, Christine Rosamond Benton, and Elizabeth Rosemond Taylor, whose son married a Getty. Pynchon descends from William Pynchon, who founded Springfield Massachusetts. Now, one would think I could get some respect in this town, but……..NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Erin treats me like I am CUCKOO-COO! This morning I removed my post on her censorship, then I saw the Times article. Note the rainbow in the bag image. My ex-wife, Mary Ann Tharaldsen, got Thomas Pynchon a job at Boeing, and thus the source of Gravities Rainbow. My only real claim to fame, after, sucking up to Erin Sullivan’s mural like a parasite, is, Tom and I made love to the same beautiful woman we were married to. Tom also screwed Jules Siegel’s wife and thus the Playboy article ‘“Who is Thomas Pynchon… And Why Did He Take Off With My Wife?
So, there I am on Main Street, taking pics like other folks, and, here he come. I wish I would have told him to “Get away from me!”. This guy ruined my evening. I hate thee way he looks. I asked him if he was the official Art Walk photographer, and he said he was. I told him his camera is not a badge that gives him the right to shove people around. Why discourage a walker on a art walk? You can see he already snapped off a few shots from that angle. He could have come next to me in order to get me out of the picture. But instead, he lifted his leg on me, and marked his territory. I can’t get any respect!
“Excuse me Sir! You are totally in the way of the picture!”
Was this guy referring to my size? I have already agreed to get out of his shot, so, why is his hairy arm violating my space and gesturing to me? The girls know this would be trouble in their neck of the woods, and looked alarmed! The old walrus has been following them, and shooting them, for almost an hour. They are his – cows! You can just make out the glint of a white tusk.
This is an Art Attack, a part of the Rainbow Wars that are going on in the Emerald Valley. The Walrus is bringing culture to Springfield. I stood in his way. Here is the shot he got, but missed the dude who made beautiful love to Thomas Pynchon’s ex-wife, who did a life-size portrait of her good friend, Mimi Farina, the sister of Joan Baez. Mimi tried to get Pynchon into the mainstream of Hippie life, relax, and enjoy himself. Her husband Richard, was Thomas’s best friend. I made Tom’s ex cry-out with pleasure! It was music to my ears! We made love, not war!
Here is our late friend, Denny Dent. Nancy Hamren, of yogurt fame, and I, knew Denny since the ninth grade.
Note the tree on the hill in Erin’s mural and the Simpson mural. Then, look at the mural that was rendered on the Creamery wall in place of Sullivan’s work. Note the door and window on the right. This a Portal to another dimension. This photo was taken by a man who made love to Thomas Pynchon’s ex-wife. Beware of ‘The Backdoor Man”.
“Excuse me Sir! You are totally in the way of the picture!”
Mr. Powell got it right. There are wanna-bes on the prowl with a Shrink-O-Matic camera that makes real Oregon History – all but disappear! That photographer should carry around a paper bag just in case he has another photogenic emergency.
If I hadn’t gone to visit my mother in 1994, and insisted she call the executor of the Rosamond legacy, he would have thrown a big box of our family photos away. In 1971, my surviving sister and her hippie husband built a dome on the property of the man who owned the Log Cabin Inn up the McKenzie.
“Do you want them?” Sydney Morris asked.
“Of course I want them.” Rosemary said, in shock!
The Rosamond Gallery in Carmel. I like to take photos of store windows to see what is reflected in them.
Did you notice he was wearing a BLUE shirt? Did you notice my image did not appear in the glass? Am I a real Ghost Writer? I believe this cameraman served in Vietnam, and has seen real dead people. For those who have been following the BLUE clues, here is the next DOOR.
Who is the STAR of the DOORS? Who comes to your door?
Today, on Monday, May 25, 2015 – Memorial Day – I discovered an article that suggests Attorney Sydney Morris mismanaged the creative family estate of the world famous Carmel photographers, Edward Weston, and his son, Brett Weston. Cole Weston was also a photographer. All three of these famous men captured the Lone Cypress of Pebble Beach with their cameras. Kim Weston is the grandson of photographer Edward Weston, son of photographer Cole Weston and nephew of photographer Brett Weston.
Sydney Morris is suing Carol Williams who tried to stop the sale of this Creative Family Legacy to a banker.
Frémont’s successful first expedition led quickly to a second, begun in the summer of 1843. The more ambitious goal this time was to map and describe the second half of the Oregon Trail, from South Pass to the Oregon Country. Due to Carson’s proven skills as a guide, Fremont invited him to join the second expedition. They followed a route north of the Great Salt Lake, down the Snake River to the Columbia River and into Oregon.
It was a compelling theory, one that seemed in keeping with an author known for his playful high jinks. (Mr. Pynchon has made a cameo appearance on “The Simpsons,” in which he voiced a disguised cartoon version of himself, and narrated a book trailer for his novel “Inherent Vice.”) And thanks to the air of mystery that has long surrounded Mr. Pynchon’s persona, it was given credence by some online.
Unfortunately for lovers of conspiracy theories, and for readers who might leap at a new Pynchon novel, Mr. Winslow’s bombshell may not be much of a revelation.
Mr. Pynchon’s publisher, Penguin Press, and his literary agent, Melanie Jackson, who is also his wife, swiftly shot down the suggestion that he was behind the book.
“He did not write ‘Cow Country,’ ” Ms. Jackson wrote in an email message.
It isn’t the first time I have used this image of Pynchon guesting on The Simpsons, which appeals rather to my sense of irreverance, but last time I included it as a curiousity of limited relevance. Thanks to A Gravity’s Rainbow Companion I have been made aware that it is always a mistake to assume irrelevance in anything concerning Pynchon.
‘Tyrone Slothrop may have a “bland ignorance” of the topic but Thomas Pynchon does not, for his ancestor William Pynchon founded Springfield in the seventeenth century […]’
That would be Springfield, Massachusetts, but hey.
I am suspecting that Pynchon’s appearance on The Simpsons pleased him immensely. It does me.
What finally smoked him out was Richard Fariña’s wedding to Mimi Baez, sister of the famous folk singer. In August, Pynchon took a bus up the California coast to serve as his friend’s best man. Remembering the visit soon after, Fariña portrayed Pynchon with his head buried in Scientific American before eventually “coming to life with the tacos.” Pynchon later wrote to Mimi that Fariña teased him about his “anti-photograph Thing … what’s the matter, you afraid people are going to stick pins; pour aqua regia? So how could I tell him yeah, yeah right, you got it.”
After Fariña’s wedding, Pynchon went up to Berkeley, where he met up with Tharaldsen and Seidler. For years, Pynchon trackers have wondered about Tharaldsen, listed as married to Pynchon in a 1966–67 alumni directory. The real story is not of a secret marriage but a distressing divorce—hers from Seidler. Pynchon and Tharaldsen quickly fell in love, and when Pynchon went back to Mexico City shortly after John F. Kennedy was assassinated, Tharaldsen soon followed.
American writers like Jorge Luis Borges, a big influence on his second novel, The Crying of Lot 49. (He also translated Julio Cortázar’s short story “Axolotl.”) His odd writing habits persisted throughout his life; later, when he was in the throes of a chapter, he’d live off junk food (and sometimes pot). He’d cover the windows with black sheets, never answer the door, and avoid anything that smelled of obligation. He often worked on multiple books at once—three or four in the mid-sixties—and a friend remembers him bringing up the subject of 1997’s Mason & Dixon in 1970.
Tharaldsen grew bored of the routine. Soon they moved to Houston, then to Manhattan Beach. Tharaldsen, a painter, did a portrait of Pynchon with a pig on his shoulder, referencing a pig figurine he’d always carry in his pocket, talking to it on the street or at the movies. (He still identified closely with the animals, collecting swine paraphernalia and even signing a note to friends with a drawing of a pig.) Once Tharaldsen painted a man with massive teeth devouring a burger, which she titled Bottomless, Unfillable Nothingness. Pynchon thought it was him, and hated it. Tharaldsen insists it wasn’t, but their friend Mary Beal isn’t so sure. “I know she regarded him as devouring people. I think in the sense that he—well, I shouldn’t say this, because all writers do it. Writers use people.”
Tharaldsen hated L.A., and decided to go back to school in Berkeley. “I thought they were unserious sort of beach people—lazy bums! But Tom didn’t care because he was inside all day and writing all night.”
“Two of Pynchon’s Cornell friends, his future girlfriend Tharaldsen and her then-husband, David Seidler, had moved to Seattle and encouraged Pynchon to join them. Tharaldsen says Pynchon arrived “depressed—very down.” She worked for Boeing, and hooked him up with a job writing technical copy for their in-house guide, Bomarc Service News. The aerospace giant was just then developing the Minuteman, a nuclear-capable missile that likely inspired Pynchon, years later, to cast Germany’s World War II–era V-2 rocket as the screaming menace of Gravity’s Rainbow. (One of the joys of tracking Pynchon is tracing the far-flung interconnections in his work to unlikely real-world experiences—dating an NSA worker; seeing Charles de Gaulle in Mexico; fooling around on a primitive music synthesizer in 1972.)
“Who is Thomas Pynchon… And Why Did He Take Off With My Wife?: Shedding a little light on the most famous author-recluse since J. D. Salinger.” (Be sure to read the second page, too.)
Among other things, Siegel claims that Pynchon had a penchant for pot and hash and that he said while rewriting Gravity’s Rainbow, “‘I was so fucked up while I was writing it …. that now I go back over some of those sequences and I can’t figure out what I could have meant.’” He also reports that his wife said, after her affair with Pynchon, that he “was a wonderful lover, sensitive and quick,” but “somewhat unworldly and bookish, easily astonished by her boldness.”
Eurystheus, for his tenth labor, gave Heracles the task of bringing back the cattle, which belonged to the monster Geryon. This involved killing the sentinels who watched over the cattle and their master, then, driving the herd over land and sea back to Greece single handed, which made this a very precarious adventure. This monstrous beast was the son of Chrysaor, which makes him nephew of the Gorgon, Medusa. Geryon had three bodies, six arms, six legs and three heads and his appearance was that of a warrior. He lived on Erytheia, a mythical island far to the west, Geryon was the owner of huge herds of cattle, and they were protected by the herdsman Eurythion and the two-headed watch-dog Orthrus.
Heracles set out on his expedition, and while crossing the Libyan desert, found the heat unbearable, so much so that in his anger he shot an arrow toward the sun. Helios the sun god (in some versions it was Apollo) pleaded with Heracles to shoot no more. With this request the hero promised he would stop, if he could lend the golden goblet which Helios used to sail across the ocean every evening on his journey home to the east. Heracles was granted his request. The hero sailed across the ocean in the golden goblet to the island of Erytheia. On his journey to Erytheia (in some versions) Heracles set up two landmarks when he reached the straits of Gades, which became known as the “Pillars of Heracles”, (but in other versions) he built the pillars to celebrate his journey home.
When Heracles reached Erytheia, no sooner had he landed he was confronted by the two-headed dog Orthrus, with one huge blow from his olive-wood club Heracles killed the watch-dog. Eurythion the herdsman came to assist Orthrus, but Heracles overcame the attack in the same manner. On hearing the commotion Geryon sprang into action, carrying three shields, three spears and wearing three helmets and three sets of greaves. Heracles strung his bow, killing the monster with his deadly arrows. (in other versions Heracles tore Geryon into three separate pieces).
The hero’s return journey was not without incident. Herding the cattle on to the golden goblet he sailed back to Greece. However, the hero landed in Italy, and it was here that Cacus, the fire-breathing giant, took a portion of the herd while the hero slept. Cacus dragged the animals backwards into his cave, as to leave no trail for Heracles to follow. On waking and finding part of the herd missing, Heracles searched for them, but was deceived by the trick. Giving them up for lost Heracles drove the rest of the herd past the cave. The cattle inside the cave could hear the herd pass by, and they called back to each other. When Heracles looked inside he saw the cattle, and then came face to face with Cacus. Angered by the giant’s trick and the theft of his cattle, Heracles killed him.
Heracles found it hard to keep the herd together, and to make matters worse Hera sent a gadfly (a type of biting horsefly) which scattered the herd with its irritating bite. After regaining control of the cattle, Hera sent a flood, which made crossing a river impossible. Heracles filled the channel with stones which made the water shallow enough to cross. The hero dealt with another monster, which was half-woman and half-serpent as he drove the cattle through Scythia, on his journey home to Greece.
After many hardships Heracles finally reached the court of Eurystheus. The ungrateful king sacrificed the cattle to Hera. It was a rich sacrifice to give to a thankless goddess, as Hera always tried to make the tasks harder for Heracles. Some legends state that this should have been the last labor for the hero but Eurystheus refused to accept two of them, as the Hydra was killed with the help of Iolaus, and for the cleaning of the Augean stables, he used the force of two rivers to accomplish the task. Instead of being thankful for the heroic deeds, the weak and narrow-minded king forced Heracles to undergo two more labors.
The Dactyls of mount Ida in Phrygia, fabulous beings to whom the discovery of iron and the art of working it by means of fire was ascribed. Their name Dactyls, that is, Fingers, is accounted for in various ways; by their number being five or ten, or by the fact of their serving Rhea just as the fingers serve the hand, or by the story of their having lived at the foot (en daktulois) of mount Ida. (Pollux, ii. 4; Strab. x. p. 473; Diod. v. 64.) Most of our authorities describe Phrygia as the original seat of the Dactyls. (Diod. xvii. 7; Schol. ad Apollon. Rhod. i. 1126; Strab. l. c.) There they were connected with the worship of Rhea. They are sometimes confounded or identified with the Curetes, Corybantes, Cabeiri, and Telchines; or they are described as the fathers of the Cabeiri and Corybantes. (Strab. x. p. 466; Schol. ad Arat. 33; Serv. ad Virg. Georg. iv. 153.) This confusion with the Cabeiri also accounts for Samothrace being in some accounts described as their residence (Diod. v. 64; comp. Arnob. adv. Gent. iii. 41); and Diodorus states, on the authority of Cretan historians, that the Dactyls had been occupied in incantations and other magic pursuits; that thereby they excited great wonder in Samothrace, and that Orpheus was their disciple in these things. Their connexion or identification with the Curetes even led to their being regarded as the same as the Roman Penates. (Arnob. iii. 40.) According to a tradition in Clemens Alexandrinus (Strom. i. p. 362) the Dactyls did not discover the iron in the Phrygian Ida, but in the island of Cyprus; and others again transfer them to mount Ida in Crete, although the ancient traditions of the latter island scarcely contain any traces of early working in metal there. (Apollon. Rhod. i. 1129; Plin. H. N. vii. 57.) Their number appears to have originally been three: Celmis (the smelter), Damnameneus (the hammer), and Acmon (the anvil). (Schol. ad Apollon. l. c.). To these others were subsequently added, such as Scythes, the Phrygian, who invented the smelting of iron (Clem. Alex. Strom. i. p. 362), Heracles (Strab. l. c.), and Delas. (Euseb. Praep. Evang. x. p. 475.) Apollonius Rhodius mentions the hero Titias and Cyllenus as the principal Dactyls, and a local tradition of Elis mentioned, besides Heracles, Paeonius, Epimedes, Jasius, and Idas or Acesidas as Dactyls; but these seem to have been beings altogether different from the Idaean Dactyls, for to judge from their names, they must have been healing divinities. (Paus. v. 7. § 4, 14. § 5, 8. § 1, vi. 21. § 5; Strab. viii. p. 355.) Their number is also stated to have been five, ten (five male and five female ones), fifty-two, or even one hundred. The tradition which assigns to them the Cretan Ida as their habitation, describes them as the earliest inhabitants of Crete, and as having gone thither with Mygdon (or Minos) from Phrygia, and as having discovered the iron in mount Berecynthus. (Diod. v. 64; Cic. de Nat. Deor. iii. 16.) With regard to the real nature of the Dactyls, they seem to be no more than the mythical representatives of the discoverers of iron and of the art of smelting metals with the aid of fire, for the importance of this art is sufficiently great for the ancients to ascribe its invention to supernatural beings. The original notion of the Dactyls was afterwards extended, and they are said to have discovered various other things which are useful or pleasing to man ; thus they are reported to have introduced music from Phrygia into Greece, to have invented rhythm, especially the dactylic rhythm. (Plut. de Mus. 5 ; Diomedes, p. 474, ed. Putsch; Clem. Alex. Strom. i. p. 360.) They were in general looked upon as mysterious sorcerers, and are therefore also described as the inventors of the Ephesian incantation formulae; and persons when suddenly frightened used to pronounce the names of the Dactyls as words of magic power. (Plut. de Fac. in Orb. Lun. 30.)
Reblogged this on rosamondpress and commented:
With the discovery of of the newspaper article about the two postal workers who were waiting to recieve a reward for the capture of William Peddicord, I have been inducted into the Beat Writer Hall of Fame. My ex was married to Thomas Pynchon who wrote ‘The Crying of Lot 49’ that is about a secret postal service. Thanks Evonne for delivering my jazz noteof authenticity. Plagaerism is the highest form of compliment. bow15 bow18
You will never grasp this…..’Incident In Memoirs #10478′ unless I preface it.
This is a story about a witchy and covert transference of my good writing skills over to Frail Evonne by female members of this group I joined at Willamalane Adult Activity Center in Springfield Oregon. The witch who conducted this transference of talent and skills, over to her fellow ungifted species, is Laurel Laver – Hospice Worker! You can’t make this shit up. Laurel has watched a lot of men die! She knows all about legacies. She will orchestrate my literary death and transference over to a woman of her choosing. This is the sequel to ‘Witches of Eastwick’.