You've been acting awful tough lately
Smoking a lot of cigarettes lately
But inside, you're just a little baby
It's okay to say you've got a weak spot
You don't always have to be on top
Better to be hated than love, love, loved for what you're not

You're vulnerable, you're vulnerable
You are not a robot
You're lovable, so lovable
But you're just troubled

Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot

You've been hanging with the unloved kids
Who you never really liked and you never trusted
But you are so magnetic, you pick up all the pins
Never committing to anything
You don't pick up the phone when it ring, ring, rings
Don't be so pathetic, just open up and sing

I'm vulnerable, I'm vulnerable
I am not a robot
You're lovable, so lovable
But you're just troubled

Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot

Can you teach me how to feel real?
Can you turn my power on?
Well, let the drum beat drop

Guess what? I'm not a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot


Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot

Coming Soon to a Cave of Montesinos Blog Near You!

A post about Herbert von Karajan, his membership in the Nazi party, my love affair with his recordings and my dreams of being a conductor.

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince Website

So when I was younger I never fully knew/understood what my Dad did for work. Later I was able to do an internship at his office and I learned about his work and the company he worked for. It was a good experience and I enjoyed going to work with my Dad every day for the summer.

When my brother started working with computers I was also in the dark about what it was, exactly, that he did. Though he would explain it to me, I still never got it (I'm the least intelligent of the two brothers in the family). Now I get it, he does this.

My big brother Dan designs websites for movies and he puts together all the components that make it work and allow you to navigate the page, working with Flash. He designed the website for Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. If your a Harry Potter fan and you dig the website, you can say, "I know a guy who's brother designed the latest Harry Potter movie site". And that is a cool thing.

Side note: I just saw The Life Aquatic last night. For some reason I really like Bill Murray in Wes Anderson movies. I'm drawn to his melancholic roles (which he's done more of lately) in the same way that Orson Welles's films appeal to me, especially The Chimes at Midnight.

The aftereffects of a conversation with Alex Shafer, or, The Ghost in Me

In junior high I had an English teacher who's name I can't remember. I can still see her strange smile in my memories and I'll forever associate her with Ray Bradbury's short story collection I sing the body electric. If I remember right we read a story called "The electric grandmother" in her class. I was tickled by the novelty of a grandma who could fill up my glass of O.J. with a spout form her finger and I don't think I realized how creepy or uncanny that would be. Sometimes though, I wondered if our teacher wasn't trying to tell is indirectly that she was an electric grandmother. There was something a bit weird about here that I could never pinpoint, know I realize that she could have been a cyborg.

The Borg from S.T.N.G. were always the scariest bad guys Jeann-Luc Picard as a Borg scared me to death when I was a teenager. At the same time Locutus was "Rad!" and "Kick butt!".

"[M]odern developments in technology and telecommunication, instead of diminishing the realm of ghosts [...] enhance the power of ghosts and their ability to haunt us". That is a quote from Derrida playing a pretty good Derrida in the not so pretty good 1984 film Ghost Dance by Ken McMullen. Despite the bad acting, Derrida does say some interesting things. What's interesting are not so much his ideas, (he says nothing new), rather, the intrigue comes from the fact that it is Derrida addressing the subject of ghosts and technology, something that sci-fi had been aware of for years.
(If you want to see the guy that plays Hagrid in the Harry Potter movies play the drums and drop the f'bomb a lot, rent it. But good luck, there's a reason it's not an easy to find film)
Listen to this song by Electric President and check out the lyrics here. The lyrics are clever and there is a healthy dose of irony in the title as well as the lyrics.



I still can't believe I was never able to take DP's class on science and literature. I had a chance to redeem myself by going to Wash. U. to study with AB, but for reasons I still can't quite fathom I'm going to UCI.

Wherin "The Man" (or Interlibrary Loan) is trying to keep me down...and how I subsequently stick it to "The Man"

I recently requested a book from ILL titled Buenos Aires, Buenos Aires. My friend Mac told me about it and it seemed like it could be a useful source for my thesis. It's a neat book containing several photos of Buenos Aires, taken by Argentine photographer Alicia D'Amico. She sent them to Julio Cortázar in Paris and he wrote a companion text to the photos. It's not an earth shattering book but it's fun to see the circa 1968 photos of Buenos Aires and to read Cortázar's reflections. He can't avoid the overwhelming feeling of nostalgia while looking at the photos and he also muses a bit on the nature of the photograph. At one point Cortázar refers to the photos as ghosts, coming back to haunt him. He also writes about the french word for ghost, revenant, which is an archaic loan word in English. This is the part that I need. And I should have scanned that section of the book when I requested it the first time, but I'm retarded.

So I decided to request the book again from ILL but my request was canceled, here is their explanation as to why it was canceled:

Dear Benjamin Cluff:

A request you have placed:
Buenos Aires. Buenos Aires. has been canceled

Reason for cancellation:
This is a duplicate request.
We have another request from you for the same piece. We just returned this exact same item for you. Unfortunately because of the cost of ILL ($35 per item) we do not reorder the same item for the same patron. It is cheaper for the patron to buy the book than it is for us to reorder the same item over and over for the patron.

Sorry,
Ti'Ata Sorensen
Borrowing Supervisor


I'm fine with what they are doing, trying to save cash, but I was a bit put off by the fact that she told me I could buy this book for less than $35 or $70. So, being the mature individual that I am, I responded in this way:

Dear "The Man",

In regards to your reason for not requesting the book. I thought you might like to know that it was printed in Buenos Aires in 1968 and has been out of print for years. It is not available for purchase anywhere and a friend of mine once saw a used copy of the book for sale, it was $2000. So, no, it is NOT cheaper for me to buy it than it is for you to request it. However I understand that my request is simply another victim of the economic downturn and not a reflection of the quality of service I receive from the ILL staff.

Best,

Ben Cluff


I'm not mad at ILL, they are doing their job. But I still need the book. So what shall I do? Friends don't let friends suffer without the books they need. My good friend, who will remain unnamed (in case "The Man" is reading this) is going to request the book for my use. I'm not usually one to stick it to the man, but in the writing of an M.A. thesis, sometimes one has to.

A lone man...

"Se pondrá contento der ver a alguien después de tantos años que nadie viene por aquí" (66)

Shaunie and the kids went to Washington to spend some time with her parents, also so I could (in theory) spend more time writing. Yesterday my thesis chair, GS, told me that if he sees me with another book in my hands he'll "tear it out of [my] hands and throw it like Lady Macbeth did with the babies". I needed that. Coming from anyone those are strong words, but form GS they carry even more weight. Of course he wasn't mad, but it was his way of letting me know that I'm slacking.

I've been reading too many secondary sources and I've sort of lost my ideas in the cacophonous murmullos of the critics. But no more! ¡Sí se puede escribir la tesis Ben! In the mean time, being at home without hearing the laughter of my girls and seeing the smiles of Gordon and Shaunie is weird. It's lonesome but it's good for writing.

In other news, I've had an odd diet since Shuanie left; it could probably be described as quick and dirty, but some days the food is decidedly un-dirty. Here is a sampling of some things I've eaten, not necessarily all together:

Breakfast:

Orange Juice, Apple or Banana, water, Carnation Instant Breakfast, Mate (Usually I'll have one or two of these). If It's not a workday I'll have a bowl of cereal. One night I stayed at Matt Hill's house and he cooked (a whole package of) bacon, toast and eggs for breakfast.

Lunch: Nong Shim Kim chi flavored Instant Noodle Bowl (I got a really good deal on three cases...from Amazon of all places), Taco Riendo, water, black beans, root beer, microwave popcorn, bread, mate.

Dinner: A head of romaine lettuce, Nong Shim Kim chi flavored Instant Noodle Bowl, water, tuna sandwich, mate, flan (I made one last night and it's already gone), cereal, sauteed zucchini and mushrooms.

I need to head to the grocery store and get some more fruit and veggies.

Lloyd Green: In Memoriam

Grandpa and Grandma Green with my sister Michelle in August 2006. He loved Michelle and would always ask how she was doing when we would visit.

It is when I am in the middle of writing my thesis about ghosts and haunting as a form of ethical memory that I receive word, just this morning, that my Grandfather passed away. It will be hard to write anything today. I started reading Jacques Derrida's book The Work of Mourning yesterday. I was hesitant about whether or not I should something here about Grandpa Green. After reading what Derrida wrote with regards to such situations, I decided that it would be okay. Here are some of my memories.

My Grandma got divorced, I think, before I was born, or maybe just after. When we lived in California she started dating and she would sometimes visit with her current "friend". There was one guy I despised because he put ketchup on his rice. Grandpa Green was wonderful from the start. Grandma's words echo in my memory, "This is Lloyd, Lloyd Green". The name seemed strange to me at the time, was I seven or eight years old? I remember being impressed with his smile, his sense of humor, and his courteous manner.

The beginning is fuzzy, by now it seems as if he was always there. It's hard to recall any memories of Grandma in which she isn't already Grandma Green. I know that Grandma was much happier when they were together. They took an extended trip in the R.V. to Nova Scotia and at some point came down to see us in California. Grandpa didn't like the traffic and after a few visits he decided he wouldn't come back to California, I can't blame him.

Grandma and Grandpa took my brother and I to the Golden Corral Buffet for lunch once. I started my meal by eating an entire plate of whipped cream and followed it up with a plate of chocolate mousse. Though I had a hollow leg at the time, it must have gotten clogged, cause I threw up my whole lunch in the bathroom when I was done eating. I think Dan did too, I can't remember. Grandpa wasn't pleased though.

I caught my first fish, a tiny little trout, at Farmington Pond, just up the road from Grandma's house. I didn't know how to get the hook out so I started toward home proud as puppy. I must have been gone a long time because I met grandpa coming up the road on his four-wheeler. He helped me wash and gut my fish. I think on that same trip we drove down to Bryce Canyon to meet my parents for a camping trip, we cooked and ate my fish at the campground.

At a family gathering he made a huge batch of root beer. I vaguely remember using his truck to make several trips to the Ogden dump along with my cousin Brad. Grandpa had a favorite hat that he would wear when he mowed the lawn or cleaned snow from the the drive. He used to plow the neighbor's drive too. When I left for Mexico, I took a picture with his hat on.

More than once I showed up at their house with friends and less than an hours notice. They generously let us stay the night and were always worried that we hadn't eaten enough. Once my friend Kevin came back to Grandma and Grandpa's house two hours later than he said he would. Grandpa was worried about him the whole time, I told Kevin he was a dufus for coming back late.

Shaunie and I stopped in to say hello on the return trip from Rexburg and ended up helping take Grandpa to the E.R. I don't remember what happened, just that it was difficult for everyone. But still, after he was hooked up to all the monitors and tubes in the hospital, Grandma managed to squeeze my hand and tell me "Thank you", with a bit of a smile. He recovered slowly form that surgery, and I think he was back to his old self for a while, but it seems like that trip to the hospital was when his body started the slow process of dying.

Grandpa always enjoyed the brief visits we made after I was married. He made Shaunie feel very welcome in the family (as did Grandma) and his face would always light up when he saw her. "She's a pretty girl Ben", he would say to me. When the kids were born he enjoyed holding them and eventually, watching them crawl and play. He never got to see Gordon. The girls would play shy at first and then when it was time to go they would give him hugs and kisses. Jillian could never get over the oxygen tubes and it took some doing to get her to hug him, but there was always a kiss.

The last time I saw him was in the rest home. It was sometime in March I think. I was lucky to go on a good day, Grandpa recognized me, though he couldn't remember my name. Still, when Grandma and I walked in he looked at me and his face lit up with his familiar smile. He even managed a chuckle or two while I was visiting with him. His laugh echoed in my memory as I recalled the many times I'd heard it. I can't remember any of the jokes but I can remember his laugh, it's a great laugh, a mischievous trickster laugh. Grandpa and Grandma held hands as they talked. I know it hurt Grandma a great deal when Grandpa had to go to the rest home. She couldn't take care of him anymore and she was getting worn down real fast. They loved each other and they were happy. He was always a gentleman. Grandpa took care of Grandma until he couldn't any more. Then she took care of him. He was Grandma second husband but I never felt any different about him than I did about a blood relative. He was there for me. He was my Grandpa and he loved me...and I love him still.