There are some stellar Easter photos here.
This is kind of fucked up, or, rather, that scene is very fucked up, so I've been kind of laughing and feeling uncomfortable when I watch this. But despite the disturbing subject matter, who doesn't love a little, "Put the fucking lotion in the basket!" riff? Whatever keeps me off the streets. [Via BuzzFeed.]
Happy first day of Spring! Aaaaand it's snowing. Is it just me, or has this been the longest, most irritating winter in recent memory? Winter, you need to call up Tyrone and come get your shit. Move ON. It'll be okay; you'll find another hemisphere out there. But this thing where you leave and come back and leave and come back isn't charming. It's STALKING.
Last week I saw Leave Her to Heaven, a seriously twisted movie from 1945 starring Brooklyn's own Gene Tierney (not pictured) as a well-bred newlywed whose infatuation with her author husband (Cornel Wilde) devolves into obsession and murder. It was one of the first films shot in Technicolor, and it was great to see it on a big(ish) screen at Film Forum. Tierney's lips are so red in this you could see them with your eyes closed. Sometimes lavishly stylized fake-looking movies are more fun than the customary, hyper-naturalistic contemporary aesthetic, I posit. Directed by John Stahl, this won the Oscar for Best Cinematography.
Over the weekend, I saw clowns riding bikes to liberate the city's bike lanes from vehicular oppression.
Tonight, in a spectacular example of poor planning, I'm off to Times Square to see the new revival of West Side Story. As you know, it's St. Paddy's Day. This can not end well.
Was it insensitive of me to take a photo of myself flipping off the cupcakes my coworker brought into the office? As I was taking the photo, he said, "You can't flip off cupcakes that were made for a one-year-old's birthday party!" Really? It don't matter to Jesus. Bring that one-year-old in here and I'll give her the bird right to her face; I've seen what size diapers she wears and she doesn't need to be eating cupcakes either. And you know what? The guy got the message: This morning he said he was considering bringing green bagels, but reconsidered because he's "learned his lesson." That's right. Nobody eats anything until I'm in shape for Speedo season.
One of them brought in these cookies today, which his wife and son made. He said they're not fantastic, but I'm like, "They're still COOKIES." And they're made with M&Ms. FAIL YOU! I held out for about 15 minutes, then ate one. Now that the bag is empty, someone else has helpfully replaced them with a bag of sesame-honey-cashew things. They're harmless, right? And on the heels of that, someone else asked, "Brownies, anyone?"
Now I just caught one of them "surreptitiously" measuring me to see if I can fit into the office microwave.
I think the economy is quite capable of fucking itself, thank you! Related: Viridian going bankrupt before it can even open. Can I get a HA-HA up in this beatch?
Also too, Snuggie pub crawl anyone? Do I even HAVE TO ASK!?
Oh, and everyone's atwitter about tumblr censoring people today. And by everyone, like a dozen nerds. Personally, I've never cottened to any of this tumblr business, because it's like the same five people copying and pasting their oh-so-clever instant message conversations, all up into each other because they're ahead of some irrelevant tech curve. Plus, Typepad lets me mock Julia Allison as often as I want. Sure, it's a privilege I have yet to take advantage of, but isn't it nice to know I could? Like knowing the Metropolitan Museum of Art is there, just a subway ride away.
"Somebody threw us into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean without a life raft and we're trying to determine what's the closest shore and whether there's any chance in the world to swim that far. We. Don't. Know." -- Rep. Paul Kanjorski
Did you know that the entire world economic system almost collapsed completely within a couple of hours last September, which would have resulted in martial law and the end of "our political system as we know it"? Not that anyone in Congress bothered to tell us about it, until now.
Here's Rep. Paul Kanjorski providing a sobering account of what went down that morning when, in a span of 2 hours, $550 billion was drawn out of money market accounts in an electronic run on the banks. The fun starts about 2 minutes in.
And nothing's really changed since, he says, except for increasingly devalued currency being printed and thrown at the problem.
Also too, it is Friday and I STILL HAVE NOT RECEIVED MY MOTHERFUNNING NEW YORKER! And this is the issue with an old-timey portrait of President Obama on the cover. Don't make me sic my girlfriend on you again, New Yorker subscription call center! I've just about had it with you, I swear.
(That ought to do the trick; last time I bitched about this I started getting my New Yorker on TUESDAY, miracle of miracles. Not that I have any time to actually read the thing; I just like the cartoons.)
Reading about PRESIDENT OBAMA'S first day in office, particularly how he stressed that nutjob concept about public service, really hit the spot: "Public service is a privilege. It’s not about advantaging yourself. It’s not about advancing your friends or your corporate clients," Mr. Obama said. "It’s not about advancing an ideological agenda or the special interests of any organization. Public service is simply and absolutely about advancing the interests of Americans." Crazy, right?
But I will miss the Onion's Bush-bashing; those guys really went out on a high note with their weekly series of articles describing Dubya's near-death experiences, in increasingly bizarre and wishful ways. The peak, for me, came a couple weeks ago:
WASHINGTON—President Bush collapsed to the floor of the Oval Office during a meeting with advisers when spiderlings hatched from thousands of egg sacs affixed between the hemispheres of his brain, according to a White House memo released Monday. The spiders severed the president's corpus callosum and ate through the motor-control center of the brain, doctors said, causing Bush's body to jerk involuntarily as a scurrying mass of crab spiders emerged from his mouth and crawled down his face. Witnesses confirmed that a number of spiders also discharged from the president's tear ducts. Secret Service agents restrained the president and carried him to the White House medical facility, but doctors said that by the time Bush arrived, the arachnids had already consumed his corneas, pupils, and vitreous humor. Bush is resting comfortably at Bethesda Naval Hospital.
Also too, a big FUCK YOU to Chief Justice Roberts for messing up that oath of office, turning what was supposed to be a euphorically transcendent moment into an awkward one. You know he did that on purpose, just to be a dick.
This writer's studio ain't too shabby, huh?
Private Library from A Space In Time on Vimeo.
INTERVIEWER
What are some of your writing habits? Do you use a desk? Do you write on a machine?
CAPOTE
I am a completely horizontal author. I can't think unless I'm lying down, either in bed or stretched on a couch and with a cigarette and coffee handy. I've got to be puffing and sipping. As the afternoon wears on, I shift from coffee to mint tea to sherry to martinis...
ME
I think I'll work from home tomorrow.
[Hat Tip Daily Dish]
I nominate the picture with the big pile of money going up in flames and the villain who can't be bought, the terrorist who just wants to watch it all burn.
On my way into work after last night's victory. I resisted the urge to go in for a fist bump.
The other week I went down to North Philadelphia and went door to door registering voters and verifying voter rolls for the big GOTV next week. Not that I'm some kind of hero or anything; I just wanted to be able to earn my ranting a tiny bit. It was a helluva an inspiring day. The urban blight was unlike anything I'd experienced first hand (on foot) but the people were extremely receptive, welcoming and motivated. A very surreal scene, with old abandoned mansions boarded up and left to rot. More photos.
One of our tasks was to ask residents if they'd decided whom they would vote for. This was usually greeted with laughter, but one elderly man with whiskey on his breath told us he was pretty sure he was going to vote for McCain and didn't trust Obama. At first we thought he was joking, but then he said he was in the Army and liked McCain's military background. Fair enough Then he admitted he hadn't decided and might end up voting for Hillary after all. Later, he told us he was a paranoid schizophrenic, which made sense.
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