Frozen Fiefdom - Who Is, What Is?A The names and places of those appearing in this story are real; except for the few which will be noted in parenthesis or quotation marks. In Wilful Peggy (1910), Pickford is all high spirits and mischief and prankish fun, throwing her body around the space, but when Griffith moved in closer to her in The Mender of Nets (1912), Pickford understood right away that the camera can see right into a person.
Pickford was still playing a range of parts at this point, like Cho-Cho San in Madame Butterfly (1915), but in 1917 a vice was snapped around her on-screen character when she had enormous success with three films, The Poor Little Rich Girl, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm and The Little Princess, in all of which the twenty-five-year-old Pickford pretended to be a girl of ten. There was an artist underneath the businesswoman, and this came to the fore in perhaps her best film, Stella Maris (1918), written by her long-time collaborator and friend Frances Marion. At the age of 79, looking back at his distinguished acting career, Clarence Muse wrote a letter to fellow board member of the Actor’s Guild Eugene Francis. Seems either no one is talking about louis daguerre at this moment on GOOGLE-PLUS or the GOOGLE-PLUS service is congested.
As the first real movie star, and a hardheaded business pro of formidable acumen, Mary Pickford managed her own career for close to twenty years, distributing her own films and raking in the considerable profits.
In the first shot of that movie, she looks up and then down, and you can see thoughts passing across her face. Carefully photographed and designed by Maurice Tourneur, The Poor Little Rich Girl established Pickford as a cut-up and a prankster who wants to play in the dirt and play rough with boys. Pickford plays a duel role in that movie, the title character of Stella, a beautiful girl who is paralyzed and lives in a sheltered dream world, and the ugly and unloved Cockney orphan Unity Blake, a hard-luck case if ever there was one. Pickford admitted in her 1955 autobiography that she was sickened by Pollyanna’s demented optimism, but it did sell lots of tickets for her.
A shoe shine boy who has made use of his talent in his spare time to create a great patent, paint a magnificent portrait, or has risen to great national and international heights should not be called a stereotype.
Her second marriage to Douglas Fairbanks was a publicity coup, and there is a case for her as the most beloved woman on earth in the teens and early 1920s, her every glowing close-up adding luster to her image. Born in Canada, she supported her family on the stage from the time she was a little girl, working under primitive conditions until getting a job with David Belasco in New York.
She trusts that her thoughts can be seen without pushing them out to us or indicating them. Her face has the roundness of childhood about it, so that she might seem like a living doll even without her famous doll-like curls.
Porter, Pickford is a feisty hoyden, a kind of star of her hardscrabble community of squatters fighting for their rights, furiously active, a righter of wrongs and a doer of good. As Unity, Pickford wore no make-up, and she twisted her face until it looked crooked and pitiful. He is only a stereotype if he remains forever a shoe shine boy and is portrayed only shining shoes with no other contribution to humanity.
What kind of dreams has he?… What has he done to make this a better world in which to live? It will be an excellent text book to convince the young black actor that the art has had a magnificent development. I feel if a white artist can give a creditable portrayal of a Negro, he must be criticized only if his portrayal is not truthful in depth, sincerity, or understanding.
But when black and white cease to exist as the yardstick, the controversy will be over, and economic progress will be enhanced. Hyde for many years at the Lafayette Players in Harlem, and was accepted with glowing reviews by both black and white press.
A  Why fictionalize the life and times of someone who appears to be so incredibly fascinating to so many?
But in focusing on the business side of giving the public what it wanted, Pickford increasingly became trapped by her image.
She fought against Griffith and his limited conception of womanhood, refusing to flutter and jump around for him as Gish would do so uncomplainingly.
It might be said, with some justice, that Pickford invented screen acting, all by instinct, slightly in advance of Gish.
She acts with her whole body, so that this is pantomime rather than acting as we have come to know it, full-blooded and explanatory, more like charades than anything you might see in life.
Pickford is playing an idea of a little girl, a fantasy figure in squiggly quotation marks. Unity’s face is always grimacing, and Pickford uses her own self-consciousness as a performer to animate the agony of self-consciousness that Unity lives in from moment to awful moment in her awful and unrelieved life. In the 1920s she made only eleven silent features for her own production company, eventually rationing them to one a year, and they got increasingly slow and stately.
If you guessed Obomber, have yourself an Oreo and wash it down with a nice warm glass of cognac. Seriously; when was the last time you boarded a commercial carrier flight and the counter attendant staff (with their name badge either removed, or turned to hide their name) said as you offered to show ID, because they had not asked to see it (sniff sniff, wouldn't that be considered a slip in following TSA or FAA regs?): "Oh, We know who you are!

And not just in the parts she played, which grew repetitive and circumscribed, but in the way she played them, with both of her eyes on audience reaction. Her eyes photographed as dark, so Griffith often cast her as Native Americans and Mexicans and as various wives, daughters, girlfriends and mothers; in his company, you ran the gamut and did what was needed from day to day. As a young girl of twenty at Biograph, she refused to overplay because she thought overplaying was an insult to the audience. No player has ever been loved more by the camera than Pickford, and this is fairly unexplainable. Unity is klutzy and cursed, hopeful for any tiny bit of affection she might receive but also resigned to not ever getting any. Pollyanna flies by in an hour, but Little Lord Fauntleroy (1921) plods along for almost two full hours, as does her remake of Tess of the Storm Country (1922).
While you’re at it, ask John Kerry to read the Wall St Journal out loud to you while you take dictation from Larry Summers. The camera is in awe of Gish, but the camera seems to dote on everything Pickford does for it.
I've made light of such an invasion, and asked my "contacts" to send the Royalty Checks to the P.O. So YOU don’t have to do anything but preen and prevaricate anytime a red camera light appears.
It leaves you plenty of time to ride a golf cart with Bono, wag your finger at poor, black folks and re-write MLK’s speeches to make our case for endless war.
Maybe that "Landscaping" scene in the shower might do something for you; it was just ordinary grooming for me. You get to be a total bad-ass like Dick Cheney but without the baggage, the bum ticker, and the old carpet-munching ball and chain. People will compare you to Ghandi, if Ghandi was a lean, mean fighting machine instead of a diaper-wearing old Bolshie. Former State of Alaska employee, former salesperson of retail tourist items and fine collectibles, currently unemployed but extremely busy uncovering the "stiffs and stashes" and countless other dirty lowdowns which were rumored to only be dusty old stories from the early days in the Mini Fiefdom and the Big Berg. That’s being a president - acting out a fantasy role play game with your own fleet of predator drones and Beyonce on speed dial. Judging by the amount of "unusual activities" and oddities surrounding my life; there just might be more than one ugly little something being hidden, or covered up. And those who would know the full story and detailed truths are either dead, or have snapped their lips shut tighter than a clam in a low tide. A Currently and temporarily ensconced in the warmth of sunny Los Angeles, until the job offers roll in. Finds inner peace by practicing Reiki, meditating, humming, gong banging, and any other "Higher Self" reaches; whatever the name of the day is.
Those methods of achieving relaxation, spiritual enlightenment, or whatever one needs to feel well and in tune with themselves, are referred to as "Wand Waving" in our historical family vernacular.
1 and 2 of a touching note she mailed to me on August 6, 2007, here for page 3, which was handed to me by one of the other women who also rented from Jewel, a few days later as it arrived in the mailbox, via the USPS. One of many 3 lettered agencies which forms a staggeringly huge, yet relatively unsophisticated, branch of the United States government.
Should be right next to my photo that I submitted later; attached to one of "those other emails" that I sent to you. Box is still my current permanent address, in case something has opened up; or how many Royalty Checks shall I be expecting to receive? A I'm guessing that employment prospects for me there are looking less than likely; perhaps a short term contract for Fund Raising might be offered? I have not mentioned this book or odd events to her, other than a few questions about Eric's behavior when she and I spoke briefly in a bedroom at Christmas in Anna's home, and were repeatedly interrupted by Anna.
An outstanding resource for drumming up dates, finding living quarters, meeting other artists, selling a futon; I've used many of their sections with fantastic results. I appreciate your service to our country.) married our Mother, and produced 4 offspring, like good Catholics did. How about those telling tunes, dead air moments, and skips which fired frequently over the airways of the Juneau radio stations during the 1960's and 1970's? Once a conversation with him is fully underway; it's amazing how much knowledge he has, on many subjects. He's doesn't fit the profile of a neighborhood BusyBody, but he has the knowledge base of one. I thought now was perfect opportunity to ask him a few questions regarding some words my Gramma shared with me over the years; particularly about the perhaps not so good old days in the Mini Fiefdom, and the Big Berg. Formerly a self contained and fully operational Production Unit featuring its own school, Mt.

Jumbo (teach you a lesson!) and the sounds of children and adults long since passed over, still echo thoughout its hollowed halls today. A Catholic Church (pray to excuse your daily sins), cold storage facility (kill 'em and chill 'em), laundromat (wash and dry those stains bye-bye!), fuel and service station (bring 'em in, take 'em apart), fire department (sound the alarm!) water reservoir (beaver water, anyone? A favored description used by my Gramma of the water coming from the tap) public works equipment (rigs to dig), public library (shhh!!
It's a Secret!) boat harbor (what floats your boat?), beauty shop (as my brother would say "no help for some")full service grocery store (everybody's got to eat), a couple of bars (drink your pour, say no more), at least one restaurant, a building referred to as "The Indian School" which was apparently the school for Natives (non-whites) when my Mother was young. The local Native children attended public school by the time I was enrolled in the late 60's.
A quiet little community, which also featured at least three cemeteries, which are still in existence; if not in current use. Some things have changed in the last 40 years, different businesses closing and opening, new owners, and Douglas being hooked up to the citywide water and sewer system. Shucks, I sorta miss seeing the toilet paper bits, and other assorted chunks of unidentifiable materials floating in Gastineau Channel.
I believe that I would be an outstanding employee for them; although my sense of humor might be a bit over the top for some staff. A A "Feeders:" Those who were on the receiving end of the wire worn by at least one person who interviewed me in June of 2007. It was not specified who they were, or what Branch they represented, but they were informed on my past and present activities with amazingly accurate details. Based on what I've read, the questions and MO used sounds like a branch of the US government; some say the CIA. Could be; I don't know, and they have elected to not communicate via email other than replying to the one back door tactic I used of sending a few questions to their Entertainment Industry Liaison. Younger sister of mine (by 11 months) and is the epitome of "Spy Struck." She can quote you a line from almost any James Bond flick, has "The Avengers" on DVD, and when she made a reference to "Matt Helm" and I asked who he was, she whipped out a videocassette and popped it into the machine! Even I recognized ol' Dino, and someone in movies or TV has to be a very prominent person if I know who they are.
I wasn't CONvinced of that reply, and when I pressed her for details, she claimed to be too busy to "OOOMMMM" over that puzzler in Automotive Physics again; so I emailed the guys at Car Talk for an expert opinion. Litvinenko, the wife of the former KGB Spy who died in London in November 2006, from poisoning with a peppering of polonium-210; before the book was written, or published!!"The wife of Litvenyenko is writing her own book I read sometime ago.
I was just thinking last week I needed to tune in and tap into that again." February 14, 2008 email from Gail.
A According to my sibs, she was the first to raise the alarm that I was "Missing." Given her line of work, I'm not buying that. She'd be keeping the cops away from the barn; although technically speaking, I don't think that providing Fetish Services is illegal.
She has a pleasant voice, was also answering her own Fantasy Fone Line through one of the services available; might still be. Attractive, with a dramatic flair.A She didn't bring work home, and the house was usually tidy.
It's been an amazing cross section who have replied, and I seem to have quite a following of readers; even if I didn't date them.
A Taxpayers, please note: It is worthwhile to state that any "employees" on the public payroll who I chose to meet, had decent writing skills, or exhibited something which compelled me to have a coffee date with them. You might not feel as if you are getting your monies' worth as you fork over that chunk o' cash out of your earnings every year, but it's got to be going somewhere once you've kissed it goodbye. Grant, Attorney at Law, Juneau, AK From Wedding Bells to Tales to Tell: The Affidavit of Eric William Swanson, my former spouse AFFIDAVIT OF SHANNON MARIE MCCORMICK, My Former Best Friend THE AFFIDAVIT OF VALERIE BRITTINA ROSE, My daughter, aged 21 THE BEAGLE BRAYS! HELL'S BELLS: THE TELLS OF THE ELVES RING LOUD AND CLEAR IDENTITY THEFT, MISINFORMATION, AND THE GETTING THE INFAMOUS RUNAROUND Double Entendre and DoubleSpeak, Innuendos and Intimidation, Coercion v Common Sense, Komply (with a K) v Knowledge = DDIICCKK; Who's Gunna Call it a Draw? A I'm guessing that employment prospects for me there are looking less than likely; perhaps a short term contract for Fund Raising might be offered?
I'd appreciate the Press and others exercising some good sense, and to not contact her. How about those telling tunes, dead air moments, and skips which fired frequently over the airways of the Juneau radio stations during the 1960's and 1970's?
The local Native children attended public school by the time I was enrolled in the late 60's. Even I recognized ol' Dino, and someone in movies or TV has to be a very prominent person if I know who they are.

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