Thursday, January 31, 2008
(Side note: The fact that "Belize" sounds like "believe" is furnishing us with tons of puns and you should expect to hear them through at least April.)
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
In a tribute to her in the New York Times, Erica Jong wrote, “Anne Sexton killed herself because it is too painful to live in this world without numbness, and she had no numbness at all.”
I just really thought it was a sad, perfect way of saying that. Then I went and read some Sexton. (I hadn't read any except for basic stuff in poetry classes.) I hardly even noticed the rhyme in this one until I copied it over.
The Truth the Dead Know
Gone, I say and walk from church,
refusing the stiff procession to the grave,
letting the dead ride alone in the hearse.
It is June. I am tired of being brave.
We drive to the Cape. I cultivate
myself where the sun gutters from the sky,
where the sea swings in like an iron gate
and we touch. In another country people die.
My darling, the wind falls in like stones
from the whitehearted water and when we touch
we enter touch entirely. No one's alone.
Men kill for this, or for as much.
And what of the dead? They lie without shoes
in the stone boats. They are more like stone
than the sea would be if it stopped. They refuse
to be blessed, throat, eye and knucklebone.
In thinking carefully about the strengths of the candidates, I stunned myself when I came to the following conclusion: that in addition to keen intelligence, integrity and a rare authenticity, you exhibit something that has nothing to do with age, experience, race or gender and something I don't see in other candidates. That something is a creative imagination which coupled with brilliance equals wisdom. It is too bad if we associate it only with gray hair and old age. Or if we call searing vision naivete. Or if we believe cunning is insight. Or if we settle for finessing cures tailored for each ravaged tree in the forest while ignoring the poisonous landscape that feeds and surrounds it. Wisdom is a gift; you can't train for it, inherit it, learn it in a class, or earn it in the workplace--that access can foster the acquisition of knowledge, but not wisdom.
You can read all of it here.
Other suggestions: Hangover Leave, Catching Up On The Wire Leave, I Need A Sandwich Leave.
Amen. I need catching up on all TV shows leave, and eliminating unread posts from my Google Reader leave. Hell, why can't I just take "having a life" leave.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Why, as a New York-based paper, are we not backing Rudolph Giuliani? Why not choose the man we endorsed for re-election in 1997 after a first term in which he showed that a dirty, dangerous, supposedly ungovernable city could become clean, safe and orderly? What about the man who stood fast on Sept. 11, when others, including President Bush, went AWOL?
That man is not running for president.
The real Mr. Giuliani, whom many New Yorkers came to know and mistrust, is a narrow, obsessively secretive, vindictive man who saw no need to limit police power. Racial polarization was as much a legacy of his tenure as the rebirth of Times Square.
Mr. Giuliani’s arrogance and bad judgment are breathtaking. When he claims fiscal prudence, we remember how he ran through surpluses without a thought to the inevitable downturn and bequeathed huge deficits to his successor. He fired Police Commissioner William Bratton, the architect of the drop in crime, because he couldn’t share the limelight. He later gave the job to Bernard Kerik, who has now been indicted on fraud and corruption charges.
The Rudolph Giuliani of 2008 first shamelessly turned the horror of 9/11 into a lucrative business, with a secret client list, then exploited his city’s and the country’s nightmare to promote his presidential campaign.Oh, SNAP, New York Times. Seriously. What a fantastic, sharp takedown.
P.S. Did you know this existed?? I did not but I am so tivoing it.
The next day was profoundly unproductive. After a Boogaloo's brunch and a long wait at Walgreen's for prescriptions that weren't even filled, and then a long break for showers and whatnot, Justin and Ace and I went to get pedicures in the Lower Haight. It was fantastic -- cheaper than the place I'd been before, plus they have massage chairs. I think I fell in love a little, and feel more inclined to indulge more often, even though I always thought of the regular mani-pedi as an unbearably snobby New York thing. (No offense.) I rushed back to meet Becca for a dinner at the Front Porch, in outer Mission/Bernal (where does my neighborhood end? I have no idea). We had really tasty fried chicken and a beet salad. I am pro-beets. After that it was another rush back home and then to the Connecticut Yankee to rendezvous for "The Party Bus." Peattie's birthday plan was basically to get a bunch of people at this bar and then get them all on the same 22-line bus up to his house. It was actually impressive. Dan and I were the last to arrive at the bar, and there were a ton of people there. (I'm not positive, but I thought I counted 22 people total.) We had a beer and then with the help of multiple smart phones and NextMuni, we hopped on an absolutely empty bus with a totally indifferent bus driver. It was quite the ride, I am really glad I was there for it. The highlight was probably when this teenage kid with majorly sagging pants got on the bus and in his rush completely dropped his pants. We all burst out laughing because haven't you always wondered how those kids keep their pants up? I mean the waist is essentially at their knees to begin with. Anyway, it turns out they don't always keep them up. It was a pretty classic moment. The party was fun and involved a lot of Daft Punk and the Peattie family Lynchburg Lemonade, and it was very late before me, Dan and Justin made it home and crashed.
Yesterday was a total veg day. The first part of the day was spent half-helping Justin move, which didn't take that long but did require me walking up a flight and a half of steep stairs enough to make me sweat despite carrying approximately five pounds' worth of his belongings while four guys carried all the big stuff. We hit up Tartine for some late buttery breakfast and actually sat there to eat it, which was a new experience for me because my primary exposure to Tartine is Dan bringing it home for me when he is on his productive weekend kicks. I had a croissant (special treat, I usually avoid pastries) and a hot chocolate, continuing my ban on coffee. It seems stupid because coffee has no calories and hot chocolate has a lot, but I'm sticking with it. This hot chocolate was especially good, too, very actually chocolatey instead of just sweet. Then I settled in for the remainder of my day. I watched four movies yesterday, in a true moment of sloth and self-medication. The films of choice were Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which is so perfect, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, When Harry Met Sally (a rewatching necessitated by a conversation I had Saturday night), and You've Got Mail. Because by that point I had no shame, even though both Ace and Justin were around for that moment of girliness. I was pleased to discover that Ace has the movie memorized even better than I do, and I was also pretty excited to discover that a week from tomorrow is the release date of the 10-year anniversary edition of You've Got Mail. We are so timely.
So it sounds like I didn't manage to get anything done this weekend, but I actually did. I finally embarked on my long-term planned project to throw out my stacks and stacks of magazines. I have been saving them for a reason, which is that I want to cut out the parts I want and recycle the rest and rid my life of clutter. I tossed at least forty magazines yesterday, and in the process discovered that I have even more magazines than I thought. It's a surprisingly hard process to make myself do... I love the glossiness of magazines, and sometimes things are so much better in the context of the mag than they are separated out. I have mini-crises of conscience and purpose when I don't cut out the picture of the recipe to go with the recipe, since I think the picture is what will inspire me to make it, and if I'm not going to be inspired to make it I shouldn't cut it out, and... yeah. Suffice it to say that I am weird.
Also, I think my camera got rained on Friday night while I was tramping around near Civic Center in the downpour, and I think it's broken. We'll have to see.
Americans are downing close to 200 pounds of meat, poultry and fish per capita per year (dairy and eggs are separate, and hardly insignificant), an increase of 50 pounds per person from 50 years ago. We each consume something like 110 grams of protein a day, about twice the federal government’s recommended allowance; of that, about 75 grams come from animal protein. (The recommended level is itself considered by many dietary experts to be higher than it needs to be.) It’s likely that most of us would do just fine on around 30 grams of protein a day, virtually all of it from plant sources.
I've been thinking recently about what I can do to be healthier and to be gentler on our environment. I of course knew that meat consumption was especially bad, in a variety of ways, but this was another reminder. It's not like I need to add another item to my list of New Year's resolutions, but as part of my "greener" and healthier 2008, I've thought that perhaps I should adapt more natural food habits. Meaning something akin to Michael Pollan's 12 Commandments for Serious Eaters. There are definitely some arguments to be made about the wording or general-ness of some of his commandments, but I'm thinking especially hard about the ones in bold, below:
1. "Don't eat anything your grandmother wouldn't recognize as food."
2. "Avoid foods containing ingredients you can't pronounce."
3. "Don't eat anything that won't eventually rot."
4. "Avoid food products that carry health claims."
5. "Shop the peripheries of the supermarket; stay out of the middle."
6. "Better yet, buy food somewhere else: the farmers' market or CSA."
7. "Pay more, eat less."
8. "Eat a wide variety of species."
9. "Eat food from animals that eat grass."
10. "Cook, and if you can, grow some of your own food."
11. "Eat meals and eat them only at tables."
12. "Eat deliberately, with other people whenever possible, and always with pleasure."
Clearly I'm a fan.
I really recommend you check it out, here.
eros the bittersweet, midnight's children, still life with woodpecker, vonnegut, the unbearable lightness of being, lolita, anne of green gables, the betsy-tacy books, calvin and hobbes, the big sleep, little women, ring of endless light, his dark materials, farewell to arms, the beauty of the husband, exodus, harry potter, house of mirth, madame bovary, prep, joan didion, alice munro, george saunders, the accidental, lonesome dove, the dwindling party, 3 days on a river in a red canoe, jude the obscure, eat pray love, the singing boones, then we came to the end, the road
Only four of those are on the chart.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
The bedding is West Elm. (So is the hedgehog pillow. The pillow with the perfectly-matching tree on it is Ikea though.)
So you can (vaguely) see the new Anthropologie rug (thanks Mom & Dad!). This photo is kind of blurry. Sorry.
My tray table that Dad made me for Christmas!!
In unrelated news, however, I must present you these:
Yeah, ok, our mirror is cracked and the tile in that closet is ugly as hell and I don't want to be one of those people who takes pictures of their own body parts or clothes to show off how cool they are on their blog, but THEY FINALLY CAME! Never has a pair of shoes so made me want to put on a pair of shorts with tights and parade around town. I am such a tool. It's awesome.
First there was Dawkins’ calling an education in religious faith — even moderate faith — “child abuse.” Sam Harris chided religious moderates for being “in large part, responsible for the religious conflict in our world.” They didn’t simply want an end to fundamentalism or the use of religious doctrine in governmental policy. They treated Christians as if they all believed the Earth was only 6,000 years old, and Muslims as if they were all strapped with explosives. If you pray to Jesus when your world is falling apart, or blame Mercury being in retrograde when your car won’t start, you are part of the problem.
I haven't read any of the books in question except for "The End of Faith," so I don't have a super super strong opinion on Jessa's review. And to be honest, it focuses more on the "new atheist" books than on the book that she purports to review (see what I mean about her pet issues?). Anyone else have any insight?
(It was only just this morning I looked into my bookcase and thought to myself, huh, I should read that Hitchens book. Must be some kind of sign.)
(via, what else, Bookslut)
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tonight I watched an ep of Friday Night Lights (only 2 episodes behind now), ate ramen, and then cleaned my room. It was so in need of it -- Sara knows because she was just here and having to share the space with me. It was literally like an explosion. So now I've cleaned up most of it and feel a bit better. I still can't wait for Sunday, when I can take the time to really start digging into my organizing and such. Dad, your comment about living simply and collecting stuff was sort of true -- I think it's just a matter of picking and choosing which stuff you have or keep. I really need to get rid of clothes, since right now I don't have enough space in my closet or drawers for what I own. I just keep telling myself, one step at a time. So right now it's only 9:30 and I am about to settle in for either an episode of Buffy or one of the Office, which I think I need to revisit. Man. I'm wiped out.
And on a petty house-decorating note, I really really want to have some kind of whimsies tray like this one. (Minus the Q-tips I guess.) I actually found and saved a few little whimsies when I went through all my old stuff in the garage at my parents' house. I would like to do something with this. The problem is, with everything, that I don't have enough space, at least not enough surface space. Sometime I gotta get myself my own apartment and fill it up with all of my random little things I love instead of squirreling them away. Bah.
I will post a roundup from Snow Trip whenever I get more pictures. I totally did not take any. Besides, all the pictures we have so far include about 584930 cans of beer in them. What's that about living simply and intentionally...?
This was the first "Ones We Love" series I clicked on and I think I like it just because I want to look like this girl. I love the fourth one from the left. Kind of looks like a modern hipster fairytale or something.
I also like Ada Augustyniak and Peter Baker. And Andreea Bora, who is only 18! And the middle photo of Ali Bosworth's, which makes me think of Anne of Green Gables. (I have red hair envy.)
I haven't gone through all of them. I'm not that free or lazy at work.
All I have to say is, at one point this video features my building's receptionist. Plus the dinosaur.
Sigh. I'm having one of those days, so it's hard to really feel jazzed.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Alright, so the Brad Renfro death last week was sad but not wholly shocking to me, but now Heath Ledger died too! Rachel pointed out that he is just a person and people die all the time but a) young people don't die all the time and b) celebrities don't die all the time, at least not young ones. I mean, I know everyone is kind of crossing their fingers whenever there is a new Britney headline but I did not expect this one. It makes me oddly sad, in that perverse way that deaths of people you don't know sometimes do, and in that way where I feel like a total tool because it is just another person and I shouldn't really care. (I also feel bad because my first response to this news when Rachel told me was "This is so the kind of thing that would happen to Jen Lindley!" Because it so is.) Plus, he's really young, only 28. Then it also makes me sad because I liked Heath & Michelle and was sad when they broke up, and also because I love that their daughter is named Matilda Rose and it makes me sad that she won't have her dad around. And then finally it makes me want to go home and watch 10 Things I Hate About You, because that was my introduction to Heath Ledger and I feel the need to pay some kind of obscure strange respect, which probably he would hate because I'm pretty sure he always regretted doing a teen flick. I should probably pay more proper homage and watch Brokeback Mountain. But that would just be sadder. Gah. I feel like a total idiot. Also, blogging sucks when you really are trying to say something.
Best Picture -- this one is hard. I loved all of the movies I saw in this category. I think that "No Country" was probably the actual best one. But I loved Juno to pieces, and it's grown on me even more since I saw it the second time (waiting for it to come out at the Parkway now). I don't think it will win. Damn, ok, this is a hard category.
Best Actor -- I've only seen two of these and I gotta throw my vote behind Daniel Day-Lewis.
Best Actress -- Again, only seen two of them. Laura Linney was great in "The Savages," Ellen Page was great in "Juno." I think my vote is for Ellen Page, as sad as that makes me feel for Laura Linney, who I love.
Supporting categories I have only seen two of each -- Javier Bardem is my pick of those for actor, and Cate Blanchett for actress (though the little girl in Atonement was good).
Director, I'm torn between Reitman and the Coen brothers. Adapted screenplay, between Atonement and No Country. Original screenplay I'm going with Juno, but I totally loved Ratatouille (sure it will win for animated feature), and Lars & the Real Girl was good as well. Art direction (I can't believe I have an opinion on this!) I think I'm going with Sweeney Todd, and cinematography I'm for There Will Be Blood or No Country... they had a lot of similarities so it's so hard. I can't believe that Jonny Greenwood didn't get a nomination for the "There Will Be Blood" score. It really made the movie.
So there are my probably ill-informed summaries. I'm actually shocked, looking at this list, by how FEW of the nominees I've actually seen! I missed "American Gangster" and "Gone Baby Gone" and "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford," all of which I wanted to see, and I also missed "Easter Promises," which I guess I can get on DVD now. I totally missed that "Elizabeth: The Golden Age" even came out in the theater! Anyway, I guess I need to either download some things illegally, or just feel like an ignoramus come Oscar night... which... I don't know... how is that even going to happen with no writers? This is a bummer.
(Update: Check out Jessica from Feministing's list of why she votes pro-choice -- and read the comments.)
Friday, January 18, 2008
(Pictures of us with sporks forthcoming when I get them from Sara.)
The trials and tribulations of the text-messaging bourgeoisie.
I just need to do my organizational thang and clear out all the crap filling up my house and put my little guys on display. I have at least 15, all different and from different people and places. I love owls everywhere, but I especially love them in figurine form. They are best that way.
It's a felt "manila envelope" for the MacBook Air. Lined with fleece. How cute is that!
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
I was up later than I planned Friday, so Saturday I woke up late and James was on our couch still (he'd crashed there the night before) and so he and Dan and I went to the Irving Street Cafe in the inner Sunset, which is basically a diner. I got two pancakes, two pieces of bacon and a scrambled eggs for $5.50!! Where can you get that anymore anywhere?! Dan was reminiscing about Illinois the whole time. The food was good, too. Pretty sweet greasy spoon stuff. The rest of the afternoon Dan and I watched Planet Earth, until I left for Berkeley. Peattie's brother in law was doing a reading of some short stories, and so Peattie, his roommate Greg, and I went to Triple Rock for beer and pastrami before the reading at Pegasus. Ammon (the brother-in-law) was the best writer of the bunch and I picked up his little self-published book for $5. Peattie's other roommate was there too with his girlfriend, so all of us San Franciscans, and Peattie's family (parents & sister) ended up at the Albatross, which as I understand it is pretty much THE grad student bar in Berkeley. They have board games that you can rent from the bar, and so we played a pretty good round of Scrabble. Peattie & I were on a team, and we ended up with two Ys, the Q, the Z, and the X during the course of the game and we won. I think Scrabble is way more fun in person than on Facebook, but you have to get it going so I'll continue with Facebook. We rode home in a VW bug which smelled like crayons (true story) and listened to Bohemian Rhapsody. It was pretty sweet, and I thought my night was over, but instead when I got home Ace was there with her visiting friend Charlotte and two guys I didn't recognize, drinking sake. I was up until almost 4am just hanging out.
Brunch at Boogaloo's the next day, where we were joined by the guys from the day before, Braden & Pat, and then afterwards Ace and Charlotte were headed to Sausalito and the rest of us decided, why not? Justin almost joined but didn't make the ferry, although he made a valiant attempt. Sausalito is pretty dull, but it's pretty and beach towny and we went to a game store that sold a bunch of children's books I hadn't seen in years, as well as "Hungry Caterpillar" stickers and mood rings, which I totally bought. (Right now, I am "romantic.") We had bloody marys on a patio bar, and then caught the ferry back, where the girls and I had dinner at Ti Couz (buckwheat crepes, I had one with ratatouille in it, YUM). The night ended with the first episode of "The Wire," which I watched with Justin because we are trying to be cultural now and well-informed about quality media. The first ep was really good, and I am already pretty hooked. Like I need more tv in my life.
Still, the weekend was great overall. I felt really good about stepping out of my comfort zone a bit. Things like hopping on a ferry on a whim are the kinds of things I want to do more in the city... that's part of what makes it fun to live there. Proximity to everything.
Some pics from the Saus:
The crew on the ferry (sadly Charlotte's eyes are closed).
On our way back to the city, the skyline.
Boat! I like getting boats in pictures because I'm a nerd and sailboats make me think of what it would be like to summer in the cape.
I got the bird on accident, but I like getting birds in pictures too. It's like I totally planned the asymmetry. There aren't any pictures of people because I felt weird documenting a hang with total strangers.
I was talking to my friend Peattie today and he mentioned the idea of collecting quotes as contenders for the best quote of 2008. We already have two, so I figure, I might as well blog them.
1) Justin, January 6 at 1am, "FUCK THE GRAIN!" in response to me telling him that the best way to solve a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle with about 30% white space was to look at the faint paint grain on each piece
2) Me, January 16 around noon, "I like being nice more than I like being a good employee."
Peattie nominated the second one, but I think it sounds like things I say all the time. I think I like the idea of doing this, kind of a way to document some of the best times of this year.
In other news, the CBS Early Show has the cheesiest titles. Yesterday they had a woman on who was talking about this crappy album she made called "Skinny Songs" which is literally about losing weight and intended to be motivational, and the title of the segment was "Weapons of Mass Reduction." Seriously, it's awful. The things you suffer through when you are at the gym. You know, that and exercise.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
This sounds bad but this reminds me a little bit of my parents. Not because of the divorce part, thankfully. Just because of my dad's attitude about Christmas decorations. Once he just put a pile of lights out on the front step.
Then again, this year he did this:
(via Left Handed Toons, which is really entertaining as well as yet another fun stick-figure cartoon site in addition to, well, all of these)
Home is so Sad
Home is so sad. It stays as it was left,
Shaped to the comfort of the last to go
As if to win them back. Instead, bereft
Of anyone to please, it withers so,
Having no heart to put aside the theft
And turn again to what it started as,
A joyous shot at how things ought to be,
Long fallen wide. You can see how it was:
Look at the pictures and the cutlery.
The music in the piano stool. That vase.
(My roommate sent this to me because he knows I have this guilty love of John Mayer and everything that he does. His blog is really funny, and I really think if I knew him we'd be friends. It's really my only guilty pleasure because most other guilty pleasures I actually am not guilty about because it's like they are made for guilty pleasure -- like the OC or Gossip Girl or something. Whereas John Mayer is a sincere object, at least musically, and while I think he's good he is also roundly mocked by cool people, so I feel guilty anyway. But really, I like John Mayer and I don't care if you think that's lame.)
Friday, January 11, 2008
This one reminds me of "Once," if it took place in Spain. Those beginning scenes where he's playing guitar in the shopping district in the cold really, really are exactly what Dublin is like. Especially if you are in said shopping district once most of the stores have already started to close. (Kind of like how the weird bluish color of everything in London in Love Actually is exactly the right exact color of London in winter.)
This one just looks pretty damn awesome. The things you can do with a good camera. It's like, unreal.
Explanation: We live in filth. We have rarely swept or swiffered or whatever the floors since we moved in in July. Since we have a tiny kitchen it looks like a mess no matter what. We have basically never fully cleaned our house, and finally Dan had a friend who had a cleaning lady come in once a month to clean his house and it was like $60 and totally worth it. So we called her, Sandra is her name, and she came and cleaned our whole house on Tuesday. I came home and almost had a heart attack, it was so clean. She not only cleaned the whole common area, but she cleaned our rooms, which included making the bed and stacking up all my piles of stuff in neat piles instead of in messy piles. It was amazing. My first thought was, I want to come home to this every day. My second thought was, Oh my God, I can't believe I just thought that. I went through a series of other thoughts including: "Wow, it's like, if we are only going to get this done once a month I guess I should do it for myself all the other days of the month," and "Well, at least this way we have a check to prevent us from descending into total disorder the rest of the month and "I need to make this my goal." Then somewhere in there I realized, imagine this woman, who barely speaks English and cleans rooms for a living, coming into my room and cleaned it all up and put my PILES OF EXPENSIVE, USELESS CRAP AWAY. Seriously, I am a fucking yuppie. I have more than I need of everything. The number of my magazine subscriptions alone should condemn me to some kind of yuppie hell. I had this sudden moment of self-loathing combined with a (yuppie) instinct to organize everything so as to make my (comparatively) obscene abundance/wealth/excess/yuppieness less visible to the naked eye. I promptly resolved to go through and donate clothing to charity, recycle stacks of magazines (although I am still reluctant to trash my New Yorkers), box up any items I don't regularly use and put them in the closet, and keep my room as clean as it was when I walked in the door on Tuesday. I then researched file organizers at thecontainerstore.com. Kill me now.
(Side note: Rachel? You have someone do your own laundry?)
So, I may as well say it. I'm conflicted. I'm trying to figure out what my vote for Obama means. I don't want to get caught up in this hype, but I want to question my motives for not voting for Hillary. If that makes any sense.
(Two reactions to the article here and here.)
Christian Bale, who after 3:10 to Yuma and The Dark Knight apparently hasn't had enough of grimacing heroically while his more flamboyant co-star has all the fun, signs on to Michael Mann's period gangster epic Public Enemies as a lawman leading a manhunt for Johnny Depp's John Dillinger.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
In trying to apprehend the appeal of the Huckabee candidacy, New York Times columnist David Brooks noted in a 04 January op-ed that the Arkansas governor was our first “ironic evangelical”: “funny, campy…and not at war with modern culture.” This may be true, but as the primary season wears on, it’s worth remembering that the Late Night With Conan O’Brien sketch that re-canonized Chuck Norris as an ironic god in the pop-culture pantheon consisted of the show mocking a clip of Walker, Texas Ranger in which a small boy casually announces to an elderly couple, “Walker told me I have AIDS.” The scene is both horrifying and hysterical—doubly so when you realize that Chuck Norris is so ridiculous that he makes children with AIDS seem momentarily hilarious.
Given that Huckabee’s own views on AIDS (and women and homosexuality) are so preposterous that he manages somehow to come across as ridiculous rather than horrifying, the governor should hope that our culture’s love affair with Family Guy-esque absurdity continues through the primary season. The rest of us can simply hope that now that the age of irony has been officially embraced by two of the least cool things on Earth—presidential politics and fundamentalist Christianity—its end is finally upon us. If Chuck Norris pulls that off, it’ll be a fact worth remembering.
PopMatters always amazes me, not because I always agree or because it always makes the best case or argument or something, but just by taking things to a new level (Family Guy? Chuck Norris? the death of irony? Huckabee? Whaaat?). (via)
It makes me want to make my own letterpress.
Studies over the past decade have shown that women are likelier to rely on landmarks and visual cues, and men on maps, cardinal directions (such as north and south) and gauges of distance.
All my male friends judge things based on directions really easily -- they can tell which direction they are going in without any apparent landmarks, and tell me things like "head east on that street," which means absolutely nothing to me unless there sun is in the sky or I have some way of knowing that I'm already pointed north, or something, so I can gauge from that. I'm really bad at judging directions once I have to reorient myself: for example, if I get out of a subway station or a bus, I don't know which side of the street I'm on or what direction I'm facing, so I can easily start marching off in the wrong direction. (That's how, in London, Sean and I walked like five blocks away from our hostel out of the Tube station, with about five suitcases, despite the fact that I claimed I knew the city really well.)
My favorite response from any candidate about the evolution/creationism debate was from former Sen. Mike Gravel (Alaska). When LiveScience asked the senator if he thought creationism should be taught in public schools, Gravel replied, ""Oh God, no. Oh, Jesus. We thought we had made a big advance with the Scopes monkey trial....My God, evolution is a fact, and if these people are disturbed by being the descendants of monkeys and fishes, they've got a mental problem. We can't afford the psychiatric bill for them. That ends the story as far as I'm concerned."
Gotta love werewolves...
I think this one is my favorite. It reminds me of the Teddy Bears' Picnic and Where the Wild Things Are. I REALLY want a print of it.
Like the text of his name here.
Orange, and birds. Two of my favorite things.
I just like the sort of retro Victorianness of this one.
Can't figure out what this one reminds me of. Somewhat Goreyesque but it actually reminds me of like a children's book or something.
An unexpected favorite.
More here, here, here, and everywhere.
I think I realize part of the reason I like all of these is that they are sort of children's bookish. Now on to search for them. (I do know of a couple of cool poster stores online for bands like this, and I recognized quite a few of the GigPosters prints from those stores... unfortunately they all sell out pretty easily, it seems.)
(On a related note, why do the Fillmore's posters suck so badly?)
It reminds me of the giant teddy bear in that Park Ji Yoon video that my roommate Silvia was so into our freshman year. (She taught us the dance. I was really bad at it. I'm trying to forget that right now.) If you want to see a weird video for a Korean pop song, watch away:
I enjoy having breakfast in bed. I like waking up to the smell of bacon, sue me. And since, I don’t have a butler, I have to do it myself. So … most nights before I go to bed, I will lay six strips of bacon out on my George Foreman grill. Then I go to sleep. When I wake up, I plug in the grill. I go back to sleep again. Then, I wake up, to the smell of crackling bacon. It is delicious, it’s good for me, it’s the perfect way to start the day. Today, I got up, I stepped onto the grill, and it clamped down on my foot, that’s it. I don’t see what’s so hard to believe about that.
I always walk out of difficult or good or interesting films thinking about how I'd write about them in a paper -- same with books. Sometimes I wonder if that means I should be going back for my English PhD, and sometimes I wonder if I just need to become a critic. In the meantime, I blog.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
"Gender," writes Gloria Steinem on the op-ed page of the Jan. 8 New York Times, "is probably the most restricting force in American life." That is incorrect. Poverty is the most restricting force in American life. It's become somewhat unfashionable to point this out, but I don't see how it could be otherwise. Given the choice between being born poor and being born female, which would you choose?
Point taken (but of course that doesn't mean sexism doesn't exist.)
So there's a lot of stir over this shit. Maureen Dowd's op-ed today in the Times was pretty unbearable, in my opinion. Moe at Jezebel posted a rant about Hillary supporters that made me kind of sad, since Jezebel's one of my favorite sites and I hate to see women hating on other women so much, especially since I don't see supporting Hillary like it's the end of the world. (This post did reinforce my belief that while I love reading Moe's writing on Jezebel, I just don't know if I could actually stomach her in real life. She has a weird set of opinions sometimes.) I am upset about this stuff not because I am a Hillary supporter, but because I am disturbed by the number of people who truly hate her, who disbelieve everything she says, who make everything about her gender. It feels backwards. Now, with Obama, people definitely do talk about his race, but such talk lacks the viciousness of the anti-Clinton rhetoric. And I don't think you can say that this is all residual from the Bill Clinton era. Not at all.
It makes me sad that this is even a subject. It makes me sad that my support of Obama puts me, in some people's opinions, in a group of "young women in denial" about the state of sexism in our nation. It makes me sad for Hillary, and for our country, too.
Sorry, as usual this is rather jumbled and probably misinformed. I'm just venting.
It was a good movie, actually a great movie. The acting, as you'd expect, is excellent. I have a beef with about the last 15 seconds of the movie, plotwise, but that's about it. But this blog post feels very stiff, not my usual style, and I think part of it is just that this is a really difficult subject to talk about, for me and in general. In that light it's amazing what the writer-director has managed to do with this movie... to make it bearable, even almost light-hearted at times, utterly humanized, provocative in its plainness and sadness and realism, and to do so without gloss or polish.
Yep, you can say that Oscar season movies are treating me well right now. (Tonight, I'm seeing "I'm Not There," after which point I think the movie rush will slow down a bit.)
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
So why is the sex barrier not taken as seriously as the racial one? The reasons are as pervasive as the air we breathe: because sexism is still confused with nature as racism once was; because anything that affects males is seen as more serious than anything that affects “only” the female half of the human race; because children are still raised mostly by women (to put it mildly) so men especially tend to feel they are regressing to childhood when dealing with a powerful woman; because racism stereotyped black men as more “masculine” for so long that some white men find their presence to be masculinity-affirming (as long as there aren’t too many of them); and because there is still no “right” way to be a woman in public power without being considered a you-know-what.
(thanks to Justin for pushing me to read it earlier than I otherwise would)