Melissa Dunphy

Immediately after the Gibson lecture, Matt and I made a split-second decision to visit the Tutankhamen exhibition at the Franklin Institute Science Museum in Philadelphia. It was something of an indulgence - the tickets are $30 each - but we're both nursing childhood Egyptophilia hangovers.

My admiration and fascination for the exhibition was, however, tempered by an incredible omission. Firstly, let me explain that the famous gold-and-lapis face mask of Tutankhamen is used on every - and I mean EVERY - promotional image for this exhibition. Brochures, banners, posters, billboards, official websites: they all feature the face mask front and center. The front steps of the goddamn Franklin Institute even depicted it. The entire exhibition was designed to mimic the experience of entering a tomb, with the main burial chamber as its highlight. And yet, upon entering the "burial chamber," as you have no doubt guessed, the archetypal Tutankhamen artifact was nowhere to be seen.

No, wait, it was worse that that, because you could see it -- there was a stone platform in the middle of the room where the sarcophagus should have been, and on the face of the platform, an image of the sarcophagus and face mask were projected. Using a projector. Insult to injury.

I asked a security guard if she was aware that the sarcophagus appeared to have been replaced with a freaking light display, and she wearily directed me to some museum staff (the poor guards must get a lot of complaints in that room), who informed me that the mask never travels and is safe in Cairo.

And I'm totally fine with that -- except, GEE, MAYBE THE EXHIBITION SHOULDN'T HAVE USE THAT IMAGE ON ALL THE ADVERTISING, THEN. I mean, at the very least, they should put a sign at the entrance informing people that the mask doesn't travel so that you don't spend your time at the exhibition rampantly anticipating what turns out to be a slideshow.

• Mystery of medicine and music: Accidental death of a genius. Beethoven killed by a doctor! This could have been a metaphor for my life. Except, you know, obviously I'm not Beethoven.


• The Chaser's War on Everything security breach at APEC. If you haven't heard about this yet (it's been sitting in my "to blog" pile for ages; sorry that it's old news), you should hear about it. Especially since one of the guys who got arrested is a friend of mine from college, which automatically makes me cooler.


• WhizBiz Pty Ltd - Letting women pee standing up. I always said that, if there's any truth at all to penis envy, it lies with the whole peeing-standing-up thing. My mate John sent me this link. I know transsexuals have been using these things for years.

Labels: summer

Most awesome thing I did over the summer: attend a free lecture given by William Gibson concerning his new novel, Spook Country (awesome; buy it).

Gibson is taller and lankier and more bent than I imagined him to be. He reads his own work well, unlike many authors, and seems to find glee in swearing in front of his audience; I wonder if this is because he's in the USA.

At the end of his lecture, he took some questions. I learned that he didn't realize that he had given the main character in Pattern Recognition (my favorite book; buy it) the same name, phonetically, as the main character in Neuromancer (introduced the term 'cyberspace' to the world; buy it) until he was most of the way through writing the former. It doesn't make any difference to me; if I ever feel and subsequently succumb to the urge to procreate, all my children will be burdened with the name Case or Cayce. I'm a bastard like that. Then again, I was named after a character on Days of our Lives, so I suppose being named after a character in a novel is a step up.

Gibson bemoans readers who find his work deeper and more knowledgeable than he believes it to be. He has a modest belief that he is a "master of bullshit," and that those who read deeper meanings into his work are "seeing faces in clouds."

I counter that some people subliminally create deeper meaning and interesting connections. Without comparing Gibson directly to Shakespeare, which would of course be a terrible sin, I doubt the bard consciously intended even a tenth of the subtext and symbolism attributed to his work by modern interpreters. I don't think Jackson Pollock had any clue he was painting fractals which years later could be analyzed to establish authenticity. I don't think Stravinsky sat down and drew up an octatonic tonal plan for the "Rite of Spring" before putting pen to manuscript. Sometimes, talented minds can make these kinds of leaps and design these structures without conscious effort.

Or maybe I'm just trying to comfort myself for falling for the bullshit.

In any case (pun unintended ... or was it?), at the end of the Q&A session, Gibson specifically asked for a question from "one of the ladies" (reminded me of this wonderful interview with Bruce Campbell: "We've gotta get more chicks at these conventions... Men are fine, but I get sick of lookin' at 'em after a while"). So I stuck my hand up.

I was speaking to Gibson. Impersonally, on a microphone and across a room full of people, but I was nevertheless speaking to William Fucking Gibson. </creepy fangirl> I asked about the disturbing rumors I keep hearing about the Neuromancer movie, and what he thought of plans to turn his books into movies. I know it's kind of a faux pas to ask about movies when you're talking about books, but what the fuck, I was genuinely curious.

The gist of his answer was:

• He thinks filmmakers shouldn't turn books into movies, but should make up their own stories. Then again, he concedes, he's a writer.
• Pattern Recognition was at one point going to be filmed by Peter Weir (Aha! Hence the Picnic at Hanging Rock reference in Spook Country, possibly!) in a "rock solid" deal, which subsequently fell through.
• Neuromancer is under option until February 2009, so expect a movie before then, or don't expect anything at all (at least until the rights are optioned again).
• "If you're at all concerned about Neuromancer being made into a film -- you probably should be."

I could have had my copy of Spook Country signed, but he mentioned that he had just signed 700 copies for his agent, the line was awfully long, and I thought it a little unfair to ask him to sign one more for me. I already got my fangirl fix.

Incidentally, Gibson fans are really godawful, and I now live in constant fear that I am of their type. Eavesdropping while waiting in the auditorium for the lecture to begin, I was treated to obnoxiously loud conversations, intended less for the other conversationalists than the strangers sitting nearby, about sophomoric philosophies, tragic comparisons of sub-par sci-fi, and (attempted) uber-geek/h4x0r dick-waving. But perhaps my irritation is only a function of having the same impulses. I hope not.

Labels: books, summer

As you can see, Hunter has taken to hanging around outside now that the weather is decent, so I took her to the vet to have her shots. Apparently, she is eight or nine years old! I had no idea. This explains why she seems to prefer climbing to jumping - her hip joints are middle aged. She sure has a lot of pep for an old lady, though, as demonstrated by her willingness to stalk a groundhog about twice her size (she didn't have the nerve to pounce, which is probably one reason she has lived so long).

Summer school ended today, and thank Christ. In the course of six weeks, my public speaking course took me from being quite comfortable giving a speech to being neurotically full of dread and anguish when giving a speech. From now on, whenever I hear someone give a formulaic speech as advocated by the course material, I will immediately discount everything they have to say. Also, PowerPoint is evil and should be obliterated, along with everyone who relies upon it.

Poor Lexx. I took him apart, desoldered the broken power jack and soldered on a new one. The jack itself seems to be working fine now - it is able to recharge a battery. Unfortunately, the system won't boot. In fact, nothing at all appears on the screen when I turn it on. Sigh. I'll troubleshoot some more this weekend. It's become something of a challenge.

• Lucy is blogging!


• Louis Wain was born in London’s Clerkenwell district in 1860 and eventually became an artist. To entertain his wife on her sickbed, Wain started drawing their cat, Peter. Wain continued drawing cats for newspapers and children’s books until he fell victim to schizophrenia in 1917 at the age of 57. Wain allows us a unique insight into the delusions and course of illness in a late onset schizophrenic ...


• Via an old workmate from Sydney, Multimodal Music Stand and instructions for building it.


• Here is satellite imaging of the wee little village from which the Greek side of my family hails. One day, after Matt and I have completed the Great American Roadtrip, we should probably hit Europe. Along with, you know, the rest of the world. God, I miss traveling.


• eBay: Nine Inch Nails NIN Closer to God Centipede corset L (item 320132256596 end time Jul-05-07 08:20:06 PDT)

Labels: cats, college, gadgets, summer