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The Public Blogging of Pomosexuality, Homotextuality, Homophobiaphilia, and Drear Theory (aka Career Theory) [aka Gay4Pay]. We also read the Corner and OpJournal so the right buttock will be punished as well.
All comments subject to publication. Or dismissal. Or Both.
I rescued a pile of art and photo books from a trash heap this week. Most were suffering from water and mildew damage ranging from mild to severe. Some were beyond saving, a beautiful, tri-lingual Miro retrospective chief (chef and jefe) among them. Though it was intact enough for me to see that there was a disastrous decline in the great man's work in later years. His ceramics especially were all ghastly, and not in an interesting way.
The book of Bill Burke photos included an essay postscript by Raymond Carver that made no mention of Burke or his photos (hard-scrabble, slice-of-life stuff from Kentucky, West Virginia and Brazil). But Carver's memoir of his sinking-class dad made me curious for the first time about the rest of Carver's work. I'd always given Caver a pass based on my instinctive 95% discount of contemporary critical reputations. My markdown method is unfair I know, but I am always ready to restore the full sale price given the slightest pretext. I have now done so with Carver. And by restore the full sale price I mean I am now willing to retrieve and read a sodden Carver omnibus from some future, bookish trash heap. Something I wouldn't have done a week ago.
I will review further of my newly acquired volumes as they dry out.
This page was two years old earlier this week. Like last year, I remembered it was coming up, but then I forget about it till after it happened. A tradition is born.
To celebrate this year, I coin Netivity Day. Google says no one else has used this. My dream is I check back next year and there is exactly one hit. And year after year after year, this never ever changes.
They make me look at the TV screen. For different reasons. I go to Bridges for naturalism and Bendix for not. Though Bendix acts more like people I actually know. Bridges acts like people would act if life were more realistic.
To see Bridges in action, start with Jagged Edge. And maybe just stay there. He always gets my attention, but the movies usually don't.
For Bendix, keep switching over to Turner Classic Movies during the course of any day. You'll catch him chewing up some set, with barely suppressed glee, sooner or later.
When will America acknowledge its debt in laughs and smiles to Mr. David Gergen? Me, I'm not going to wait for the rest of you ingrates to cough up a "Thank you, Funnyman". David, I love everything about you. Your Cartoon Network voice, your Shopping Network soul, your Discovery Channel head.
The way your name looks, sounds and feels just like you.
I wish I could fit you in my pants, so I could take you home just for myself. Inadvertently.
Oh, Gergantua, but that head would never co-operate, as inadvertently as I tried, I could never stuff all of you down my second-hand Structure baggies.
And I don't want some reduced-scale copy of you either. I'm Looking For Real. For Now. Ask anyone.
Not that a copy is even possible. You can't photograph Count Dracula and you can't xerox Backscratchula:
David Gergen, who was an adviser to Clinton and worked with Berger for a time in the White House, said Tuesday, "I think it's more innocent than it looks."
Appearing on NBC's "Today" show, Gergen said, "I have known Sandy Berger for a long time. He would never do anything to compromise the security of the United States." Gergen said he thought that "it is suspicious" that word of the investigation of Berger would emerge just as the Sept. 11 commission is about to release its report, since "this investigation started months ago."
Raging Fire Displaces Thousands in Northern Los Angeles ....firefighters battled a 5,710-acre wildfire that fire officials say was ignited Saturday when a hawk burst into flames...
I shouldn't have clicked. The rest of the sentence is a buzz killer, it pretty much bursts into flames itself, but I'm still somewhat impressed.
