14.11.2012 Views

Les Lettres Tristes - Foxy Production

Les Lettres Tristes - Foxy Production

Les Lettres Tristes - Foxy Production

SHOW MORE
SHOW LESS

Create successful ePaper yourself

Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.

By Tan Lin<br />

B 1 2007<br />

I read a story about people who, because they<br />

died of wounds inflicted any number of years<br />

earlier, are known as reclassified homicides.<br />

There were thirty-five such homicides in New<br />

York in the past year and they are a matter of<br />

public interest. Often they lead to upgraded<br />

criminal charges and new trials. The NYPD<br />

releases the information throughout the year,<br />

based on rulings made by New York City’s<br />

medical examiner and information that passes<br />

through New York City’s Office of Public<br />

Records, which is the conduit for all deaths that<br />

occur after 1949. The number of reclassified<br />

homicides was unusually high for 2006 and<br />

it lead to an uptick in the number of total<br />

homicides for the year, which was also greater<br />

than in 2005. No explanation for either of<br />

December, Twelve, Two Thousand and Eight<br />

these increases has been found. During 2006,<br />

neither forensic methods nor the manner of<br />

reporting deaths changed within the office<br />

of the medical examiner, and Raymond<br />

Kelly, New York’s Police Commissioner, said,<br />

“They’re what we have to live with. It is a bit<br />

of a fluke.” Sirkime Stevenson died today<br />

(January 2006) though he was killed in 1991<br />

when bullets fired by a stranger in a passing<br />

car shattered his spine, eventually causing<br />

infections that resulted in the amputation of a<br />

leg (1997). Until that point, he had dreamed of<br />

walking again. The killer was never identified.<br />

B 4 1997<br />

I read a story of an older woman on the<br />

subway who offers her seat to a woman with<br />

a young child, both of whom get off the IRT<br />

No. 2 train at 72nd Street. A reporter in the car<br />

inquires after the older woman, learns that her<br />

name is Drane Shyti, an Albanian, fifty-seven<br />

years old, that she has been in America for two<br />

years and misses her own children, a son in<br />

England and a daughter in Greece. Ms. Shyti<br />

“works in a hotel laundry.” “Her husband is<br />

a porter.” Before coming to America, he had<br />

been a math teacher and she an elementary<br />

school teacher. On the same page, beneath<br />

the fold, an article documents a website that<br />

allows users to compare aerial shots of the<br />

same areas of New York taken at two points in<br />

time. The years, like most items in such public<br />

inventories, is arbitrary: 1996 and 2004. The<br />

site, oasisnyc.com is funded by government<br />

and private agencies and provides information<br />

on property ownership and land use. An aerial<br />

photo, one of three that are reprinted, shows<br />

a section of Coney Island with shadows cast<br />

OX to A to Z Journal, Like a Nocturne By Dave Miko<br />

by the Parachute Jump ride in 1996; in 2004,<br />

the shot of the same ground reveals different<br />

or conflicting information produced by the<br />

passage of time, which appears to be manually<br />

rendered: a green ball field that is used by the<br />

Brooklyn Cyclones.<br />

A 1 2005<br />

My head is bent over the obit of Frank Stanton,<br />

the understated, reserved CBS executive who<br />

was William S. Paley’s right hand man but never<br />

socialized with his boss, and who helped shape<br />

television as a medium “for the majority of<br />

Americans.” Stanton was so sure Paley would<br />

offer him the chairmanship of CBS that he<br />

refused President Johnson’s offer to become<br />

the next Secretary of Health, Education and<br />

Welfare. But in the end, Paley held onto his<br />

job, and Stanton was forced to retire without<br />

becoming chairman. He left CBS disillusioned,<br />

referring to the institution as “just another<br />

company with dirty carpets.” On his last day,<br />

he declined to attend a party that Paley had<br />

thrown for him and simply left the office as if<br />

it were another work day. He told Lillian Ross<br />

of the New Yorker: “I think I’ll make it home<br />

in time for the 7 o’clock news.” He left no<br />

survivors and asked that there be no memorial<br />

service and that no donations be made in his<br />

honor.<br />

A3 2008<br />

And then, as I read his obit, I think of a<br />

room that is ambient and incapable of being<br />

distressed by objects. Such a room of the most<br />

minor of anxieties (such as yours or mine)<br />

might be assembled by a computer in the same<br />

way that an airport might “use computers to<br />

schedule flights.” 1<br />

D2 1987<br />

Such a room might include a refrigerator<br />

produced in Korea by one company and<br />

marketed in China under a different brand to<br />

less or more stringent energy configurations<br />

that are consistent with terms set forth by the<br />

Kyoto Protocol.<br />

D12<br />

Such protocols, like the room, might include<br />

the sound of the rain, with which has picked<br />

up sulfur dioxides in the form of stack gasses,<br />

turning the leaves of a fern in southeastern<br />

Ohio yellow. And then, the rain will be heavy<br />

at times and will cause local flooding in low<br />

lying areas.<br />

C 3 1975<br />

As a rule of description, it may be necessary to<br />

“cause the parable to rain” or the crust of the<br />

earth to become a cigarette.<br />

C5<br />

And because it is early, such a room might<br />

also include the sound of the rain turning<br />

into something that looks like snow or a<br />

bottle of Bordeaux. Bordeaux is a novel or a<br />

newspaper.<br />

What is the minor anxiety of a novel? I believe<br />

it was something you were reading yesterday<br />

or the day before because the novel is a brand<br />

that is no longer made by hand.<br />

C9<br />

The newspaper is so plainly like all our other<br />

feelings. I remember plainly a lesson from<br />

1 Mark Wigley, “Network Fever” Grey<br />

Room 4, p 12-61

Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!