a history of dueling

http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/books/2007/03/12/070312crbo_books_krystal?printable=true

Duelling is an anachronism, of course. This is true because it may still crop up. In 1954, Ernest Hemingway was challenged to a duel in Cuba, but declined. In 1967, two French politicians literally crossed swords in Neuilly. And four years ago a Peruvian legislator challenged his nation’s Vice-President to meet him on a beach near Lima. No one anticipates such shenanigans at Buckingham Palace, but the Queen, as it happens, still retains an official champion who stands ready to challenge anyone who disputes her sovereignty.

(no subject)

I am home form set. Obviously, if I am posting articles about dueling. It was a lucrative day and about as pleasant as these sorts of things can be. I am blindingly tired however -- I find even having that much mechanical focus on me exhausting. But now I will make dinner, do work, take a shower and get some rest.

Tomorrow's fencing post should be interesting, as ideas are already percolating, about the lack of diffuseness in the attention involved (as opposed to film, which is so ADD) and also about synesthesia and how it relates to the experience of this. Also, why you can fight an honorable opponent blind: because you can't see shit anyway.

Anyway, back to set -- I have about five pounds of makeup on. I forget I'm like a statue of a cat for all this -- the makeup and hair people, folks with light meters etc. They always comment that I am like a painting, but I never know if they mean how I look or my demeanor. A lot of people told me I had a great face today, and with my hair tied back so tightly (and with a side part!) and all that makeup, I looked in the mirror and wondered who on earth is this girl staring back at me.

Now, to scrape it all off.