#michael mark

[gatutor]

Michael Mark-Susan Cabot "La mujer avispa" (The wasp woman) 1959, de Roger Corman.

[letterboxd-loggd]

Crime and Punishment (1935) Josef von Sternberg

October 7th 2022

[screamscenepodcast]

Buzz buzz, here comes THE WASP WOMAN (1959) from Roger Corman himself! The film stars Susan Cabot, Michael Mark, Fred Eisley, Barboura Morris and William Roerick.

We discuss wasp facts, the history of cosmetics, and Susan Cabot's sad biography in this episode, so there's plenty to chew on.

Thanks for your patience in our delays getting this episode ready, I think it was worth the wait!

Context setting 00:00; Synopsis 26:32; Discussion 43:57; Ranking 1:04:30

[doraemonmon]

The Black Cat - Karloff with Jacqueline Wells, Paul Panzer and Michael Mark.

[pigeons-sitting-on-branches]

The Wasp Woman (1959) Roger Corman

08-11-2019

A very fun b-movie with silly practical effects that wouldn't pass in the lowest budget movies today, but still enjoyable and a little terrifying in the right places

[newspdm]

The Wasp Woman, 1959

The Wasp Woman (also known as The Bee Girl and Insect Woman) is a 1959 American independent science-fiction horror film produced and directed by Roger Corman. Filmed in black-and-white, it stars Susan Cabot, Anthony Eisley, Michael Mark, and Barboura Morris. The film was originally released by Filmgroup as a double feature with Beast from Haunted Cave. To pad out the film’s running time when it…

The Wasp Woman, 1959

[ce-archerhelke]

(via The Sealey Challenge: Visiting Her in Queens is More Enlightening than a Month in a Monastery in Tibet)

[imaginationstimulation]

Unfavorable Odds | by Michael Mark

A leaky pot cannot hold the Dharma’s jewels,

my guru scolds. Almost all he has poured 

into me finds the floor, spots the carpet. 

I can’t remember the sacred sutras 

or absorb their meanings, I blank 

on the chants. Even the Diamond Sutra, 

an instant after our lesson, dims. 

Patch the pot! Guru stamps his doll-sized feet. 

Concentration! he growls in my ear 

so close it’s a kiss, and forces cup after cup 

of tea into me so I may continue. 

The chances of a blind tortoise 

swimming the vast oceans, he says, 

and surfacing its head—

my head, he means 

—through a life preserver are more 

favorable than the odds of finding 

enlightenment. And that’s a good pot!

Gurus get angry. It’s called wrath. 

Purposeful rage. Patience in disguise. 

I get it. My progress is his 

after all. His illumination 

hinges on mine. So I meditate 

on the pot, as he instructs, 

visualizing the leaks stopped. Tell me what

you see. The pot, I say, dented, scoured 

past its shine. Good! Worn from use. 

Shiny is lazy. Where is the pot? 

On a windowsill. Her hands bring it to 

the sink’s spout. She has arrived! Auspicious! 

But the pot is leaking. No-no! The pot 

is solid. The pot is complete, whole. 

Water is running out. How can 

she boil tea, meat? She wants to feed 

the plants. Generous heart. But when she gets 

to her garden, the pot is near dry. 

Garden? She has a nice place! There are 

puddles around her feet. She dances 

in the puddles! No, she apologizes to 

the shrubs, trees, flowers. Ah, 

compassion. Bodhicitta. Drop by 

drop, back and forth, 

she tends to each. Joyful effort! 

I open my eyes. 

My guru is drenched. 

We are getting there, he says.

via Rattle.

Michael Mark: “I have so many voices blathering inside me and then there’s the swarm outside, so I write to see what to believe. I’m not saying what I write is the truth; I’ve learned that’s a fool’s errand. It’s merely my attempt at cracking whatever’s in front of me, putting the flashlight between my teeth and looking around. This poem is about compassion. I’m trying to figure out the Buddhist tradition of Tonglen, in which practitioners dedicate themselves to others’ happiness, even trying to absorb their suffering—pretty challenging for humans.” (web)