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The Typewriter Inheritance

Happy New Year!

The Pandemic

David Michael Newstead | The Philosophy of Shaving

Living through the pandemic was a little like The Chronicles of Narnia. A lifetime seemed to be jammed into a relatively short duration. There were a lot of memories too numerous to mention here: good moments, unique things, difficult stretches as we all navigated one stage after another in a global crisis. Two or three years went by. Then, things relented, not overnight, but at some vague point, we left the pandemic behind. Mentally, I mean. Everyone was over it, even if Covid-19 remained. The memories faded. And that warped timeline exerted less and less influence over our daily lives. The world steadily moved on to brand new disasters. Today, years later, it’s something I alternatively reflect on in-depth or forget took place at all. Was it just a bizarre dream?

Most big historical events have only been things I’ve read about decades or centuries after the fact. But to actually experience that transition from one distinct, seismic chapter to another is educational, if not disturbing. There was a gradual turning of the page, then it was over. Now it’s just another event floating in the imperfect waters of the past. Do people remember it at all or do they choose not to? Maybe everything is a blur after a while.

All year, I’ve struggled to write this post for no one in particular. I’m just trying to process what we went through and put it into words. Now and then, I’m reminded of the pandemic in small ways, many of which are disappearing from view or have already gone away.

Old signs in hallways and entrancesComedy videos without audiences or laughter Direction stickers plastered to a grocery store floorQR code menusStreateries Extra face masks I don’t use anymore, but now I’m a little afraid to get rid ofRandom hobbies I acquired for six months and then shoved into a cabinetMy tattered vaccination cardStockpiles of toilet paper A long list of projects and to-do list items that kept me occupied

At some point, I made a YouTube playlist to recreate going to the movie theater back when that was impossible. The playlist had ambient noise of audience members finding their seats and chatting, commercials and those dumb trivia clips, then upcoming trailers, and, of course, the feature presentation sequence before the movie starts. The pandemic was all about finding creative ways to pass the time, but one day the time passed. The real impacts often feel too big to contemplate: socially, politically, or medically. And like the rest of it, people forgot all about them anyway and moved on.

The Typewriter Inheritance

End of the Year

Christmas 1951

David Michael Newstead | The Philosophy of Shaving

On Christmas Eve, I was meandering around town. What was even still open, I wondered. Eventually, I ended up looking at used books, my frequent default activity. There, I found something like a yearbook from the early 1950s for the U.S. Army’s 47th “Viking” Infantry Division based out of Alabama. As I flipped through it, there were no notes, inscriptions, or any indication of who might have owned this specific yearbook, but inserted between its pages was a menu. I took it out to examine it more closely. This was the 1951 Christmas Dinner Menu for D Company, 1st Battalion, 164th Infantry Regiment, 47th Infantry Division under the command of Captain Ralph L. Gauler. The menu was on high quality paper, thick, and well preserved considering that 73 years have gone by. For dinner that evening, D Company enjoyed a meal of:

Spiced Tomato Juice CocktailRoast Turkey with Celery DressingGiblet GravyCranberry SauceWhipped PotatoesGlazed Sweet PotatoesButtered Green BeansStuffed Olives, Celery Sticks, Sweet PicklesLettuce Wedges with Thousand Island DressingIce CreamHot Mincemeat Pie or Fruit CakeParkerhouse Rolls with ButterCoffeeTangerines, Grapes, Salted NutsAssorted Candy

A list of those in attendance that Christmas was also included on the back of the menu, outlining officers of various ranks along with privates. Next to some of their names are markings, but what do these markings mean? Initially, I thought perhaps it was soldiers who died in the Korean War. However, I spot-checked several of the marked names and that wasn’t the case. They had passed away by now, just not in the war and sometimes decades apart from each other. Maybe the owner of this yearbook was using the roster on the old menu to keep track of his Army buddies? In the coming weeks, I’ll investigate more thoroughly, but my working theory is that the mysterious owner was among the privates since presumably he had to be young enough for this book and menu to still be in circulation in 2024.

Until then, this artifact stands out as a piece of Christmas cheer from long, long ago. Once upon a time, 75 soldiers from across the country celebrated and sat down for a meal. It was Christmas 1951 in Alabama.

The Typewriter Inheritance

Christmas Eve

Robocop on Christmas

David Michael Newstead | The Philosophy of Shaving

At some point in college, I got in the habit of watching the same two movies every Christmas. Of course, I’ll still sometimes watch classics like It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) or Mickey’s Christmas Carol (1983), but my regular holiday viewing isn’t as typical. The first movie is The Royal Tenenbaums (2001). And the second is the least Christmasy of all – Robocop (1987). I’d seen Robocop when I was growing up, but back then it sort of blended in with all the other 1980s action movies. Skip ahead a few years though and when I rewatched it as an adult in college, I realized there were a lot of layers to the story: social criticisms, satire, a pained expression of individualism. However, this year I learned even more. In some interview or panel somewhere that I watched, the director, Paul Verhoeven, explained that part of his understanding and the foundation for Robocop was him trying to tell the story of American Jesus. That means that despite anything cheesy, ridiculous, or violent in it, Robocop is, in fact, a Christmas movie! At least a little bit.

My Favorite Movies of 2024

David Michael Newstead | The Philosophy of Shaving

The Fall – This movie actually came out in 2006, but had been almost impossible to watch since then. That is until it was re-released in theaters this year. The Fall stars Lee Pace and was directed by Tarsem. It’s an epic masterpiece. Streaming on MUBI.

Caddo Lake – This was a subtle time travel movie on streaming that flew under everyone’s radar. It was slow to start, but ultimately I loved it. Humanistic and highly recommended. Streaming on Max.

One Day – Technically, One Day is a miniseries, but it’s so good that it made my movie list. Based on a novel, it’s a great, complicated, and realistic story. 5-stars. Streaming on Netflix.

Dune: Part Two – Maybe this is an obvious selection. Dune: Part Two was the incredible movie that started 2024 and another example of why Denis Villeneuve is an amazing director. Streaming on Max.

The Brutalist – I don’t think I’ll even be able to watch this before the end of the year, so The Brutalist is included on the list more as an aspiration for cinematic greatness. Judging by the trailer, my hopes are well-founded.

My Favorite Article of the Year

David Michael Newstead | The Philosophy of Shaving

By far, my favorite article of 2024 was a BBC profile from August about a British man named Rob Johnson who saves great songs from oblivion. Apparently, only about “20% of all recorded music” is available on the internet, which means whole albums, artists, and hits are nowhere to be found. Worse than that, many of these have been forgotten by the companies that actually own them. Or to be more accurate, sometimes it’s the company that bought a company that bought a company and it’s not clear who owns what. Other circumstances vary widely, but Johnson navigates these complexities to unearth and liberate music so it can be listened to at last.

BBC: Record labels forgot these songs existed. One man rescued them

Zardoz: Insanity on Screen

David Michael Newstead | The Philosophy of Shaving

Fifty years ago, one of the most bizarre and original films ever was made. For a long time, I only knew about it because of sporadic photos floating around the internet, but these only sparked more questions. Clearly, this was Sean Connery, but was this movie real? Was it released? What could the story possibly be?! As it turned out, Zardoz is even stranger than I imagined. It’s something out of a 1970s science fiction fever dream that even generative A.I. would struggle to conjure up. Decades later, director John Boorman quipped “You know, it’s one of those films that went from being a failure to a classic without ever passing through success.” Rising to the status of a cult favorite isn’t easy to achieve. It’s typically a disheartening, circuitous route years in the making. Yet, Zardoz has reached this pinnacle! I first watched it during the pandemic when you really needed creative ways to pass the time. Even it’s most committed fans talk about it in an unusual way though. “What’s Zardoz about?” asked writer and Zardoz fan Gary Shteyngart on NPR, “I have no idea. By any measure of logic, it makes absolutely no sense.” The poster is beautiful. The novelization is… interesting. In all, Zardoz has a hazy, dream-like quality. The story is a strange mixture of calm and intense violence. Thematically, it’s comparable to Logan’s Run (1976) or The Fountain (2006), except that doesn’t quite do it justice. Maybe nothing ever will. It just has to be experienced, never copied or repeated. The ending, in particular, sits with me even when I haven’t watched it in a while.

IndieWire: Strangest Sean Connery Blockbuster Ever Filmed in Ireland