i just wanted to point out that the nation's paper of record has a blog dedicated to exposing their own grammatical insurrections. as a linguaphile of sorts, i find this a neverending meta-amusement. i often tend to think back over my own words --spoken, written, or typed-- musing over the alternate meanings that could be deduced or which word trends are getting stale. voila! in this week's nyt-grammar-blog post, the "cliché watch", phillip corbett draws attention to phrases that have been recently overused in the times.
what shakes out? most notably are clichés that seek out a friendlier face to our current financial predicament. seeking to communicate the economy as a game-- fishing, gambling:
-the colloquial expression “on the hook,” comparing sordid economic futures to being as stuck as a worm used for fishing
-blackjack terminology. in one stretch of business coverage last month, the phrase “double down” was used three times in four days
i think this is a little bit frightening. why are is this huge crisis being façaded as a light-hearted game? and whose game is it? i don't think we readers are being taken in, necessarily; i'm not insinuating that the media is PULLING THE WOOL OVER THE IDEAS OF JOE AMERICAN. but it does seem vexing that the metaphors are all so casual, that the only way to handle a crisis of this magnitude is with non-ironic entertainment comparisons.
10.21.2008
10.03.2008
durham, partyham
attractive local designers flywheel are throwing the cutest party with free pbrs on thursday night!
truly demonstrable of their goodheartedness is that they've posted their gorgeously created wallpaper so you don't have to pull posters off streetlights in order to snag one.
10.01.2008
never-ending financial story NEFS
kiplinger (finally! someone!) has decent advice to normal people about what they can do in the current meltdown. i'm not a big stock-owner myself... my 401k is unfortunately invested in far muckier mire. however, i do think this is the first evidence i've seen of someone trying to appeal to common sense and rationality in financial matters-- something that has been sore lacking of late.
9.26.2008
8.29.2008
how i spent my summer vacation
researching my city:
boarding the water taxi
skimming the waves of new york harbor
hanging around p.s. 1
site: pedestrian pier at 70th+hudson river
lonely gantry
study model
final model
8.06.2008
death // life
a common approach to sociological history is to presuppose that one is a future archaeologist, discovering remnants of one's own civilization. what will they make of our laptop computers? what will they make of our plastic? how will we communicate with this future version of us?
i have always thought that this "thought technique" is helpful only in a very schematic sense; sort of the same way i regard adam smith's "the rational actor". i think a healthy dose of skepticism is required to separate the important layers where the presupposition is applicable from the rest of the situation, where it is not. it is important to analyze the breakdown of the schematic-- why it works schematically but not in real life.
for example, i think it is useful to consider "future archaeologists" when thinking about sustainable living habits and planetary stewardship: large picture, long range, effects within a small range of variability. i do not support this standpoint when it backs theories of human cultural events or sociological change. this is unacceptable precisely because the historical organization of humanity has been a consistently tangentially changing treatment of itself. change is the very basis for our culture and the change can not be predicted in terms of past trends. and this analogy is particularly vexing because our civilization is unlikely to be so completely eradicated as to produce future archaeologists that fail to recognize a single shard of today's humanity.
so, all that aside for a moment. what if humans found a way to dependably capture immortality? i'm mostly interested in our treatment of the past and how we've projected it onto the future... namely, we respect our ancestry and predecessors because they are dead and we will also soon be dead. it is that cyclic aspect of death and life that keeps humanity invested in the past. speaking about death as an essential element of humanity, helene cixous says the hopelessness of grief and the destitution of death are the most urgent reason for not renouncing our human heritage. "our lost pains are our ultimate goods, our silence renders a sound beyond the ear."
if humans were immortal would we forget our connection to humanity's past? and if that were the case, a "future archaeologist" could very well come across the remnants of our civilization with consternation. it is more likely that our civilization will re-transform itself so completely as to fail to recognize our own motherland. that's the scary part about the impending post-modern global apocalypse that we're so obsessed with talking about lately... not that we'll be wiped out completely so much as that we will change so cataclysmically that our own past will be incomprehensible.
i have always thought that this "thought technique" is helpful only in a very schematic sense; sort of the same way i regard adam smith's "the rational actor". i think a healthy dose of skepticism is required to separate the important layers where the presupposition is applicable from the rest of the situation, where it is not. it is important to analyze the breakdown of the schematic-- why it works schematically but not in real life.
for example, i think it is useful to consider "future archaeologists" when thinking about sustainable living habits and planetary stewardship: large picture, long range, effects within a small range of variability. i do not support this standpoint when it backs theories of human cultural events or sociological change. this is unacceptable precisely because the historical organization of humanity has been a consistently tangentially changing treatment of itself. change is the very basis for our culture and the change can not be predicted in terms of past trends. and this analogy is particularly vexing because our civilization is unlikely to be so completely eradicated as to produce future archaeologists that fail to recognize a single shard of today's humanity.
so, all that aside for a moment. what if humans found a way to dependably capture immortality? i'm mostly interested in our treatment of the past and how we've projected it onto the future... namely, we respect our ancestry and predecessors because they are dead and we will also soon be dead. it is that cyclic aspect of death and life that keeps humanity invested in the past. speaking about death as an essential element of humanity, helene cixous says the hopelessness of grief and the destitution of death are the most urgent reason for not renouncing our human heritage. "our lost pains are our ultimate goods, our silence renders a sound beyond the ear."
if humans were immortal would we forget our connection to humanity's past? and if that were the case, a "future archaeologist" could very well come across the remnants of our civilization with consternation. it is more likely that our civilization will re-transform itself so completely as to fail to recognize our own motherland. that's the scary part about the impending post-modern global apocalypse that we're so obsessed with talking about lately... not that we'll be wiped out completely so much as that we will change so cataclysmically that our own past will be incomprehensible.
5.24.2008
visiting the pacific northwest
and despite expected weather blahs, it's quite nice. heading out to the SIFF tomorrow which looks sort of promising.
BUT! this is the thing of note... SPANK ROCK IS FEATURED IN A SALAD DRESSING COMMERCIAL!!!! FOR WISHBONE BRAND SALAD DRESSING'S NEW HEALTHY LINE THAT IS "PACKED WITH DELICIOUS CHUNKS OF VEGETABLES..."
i'll dispense with the caps. you can check it here! i almost never watch tv and i choked on my beverage when this commercial came on. after all, spank rock is so DELICIOUSLY filthy-mouthed. i like them because they have a song-- /coke & wet bitch guns nigga holla/ <-- and that line is pretty much the extent of the lyrics. it's pretty genius with some kickin beats and not at all mentally coordinated with salad-dressing-buying-habits.
BUT! this is the thing of note... SPANK ROCK IS FEATURED IN A SALAD DRESSING COMMERCIAL!!!! FOR WISHBONE BRAND SALAD DRESSING'S NEW HEALTHY LINE THAT IS "PACKED WITH DELICIOUS CHUNKS OF VEGETABLES..."
i'll dispense with the caps. you can check it here! i almost never watch tv and i choked on my beverage when this commercial came on. after all, spank rock is so DELICIOUSLY filthy-mouthed. i like them because they have a song-- /coke & wet bitch guns nigga holla/ <-- and that line is pretty much the extent of the lyrics. it's pretty genius with some kickin beats and not at all mentally coordinated with salad-dressing-buying-habits.
5.13.2008
new product
finally, the contact solution you've been waiting for! cleans, sterilizes and rinses your contact lenses with the added bonus of beta carotene!
for too long, the only natural way to improve your eyesight was to "eat more carrots"... tired of carrot crunching? want better eyesight? try our new contact solution plus beta carotene! cleanses as well as the expensive brands, but adds a little bonus: better vision!
in a new non-staining formula!
for too long, the only natural way to improve your eyesight was to "eat more carrots"... tired of carrot crunching? want better eyesight? try our new contact solution plus beta carotene! cleanses as well as the expensive brands, but adds a little bonus: better vision!
in a new non-staining formula!
4.24.2008
4.19.2008
notes to self
reverend billy looks totally awesome. the church of stop shopping is going on my list of ecclesiastical-yet-secular sunday morning entertainments. right after the church of craft.
4.15.2008
happy birthday, mr jefferson!
sounds like an onion headline, but it's not!
woman arrested for dancing at the jefferson memorial
woman arrested for dancing at the jefferson memorial
3.22.2008
passport breaches
it shouldn't be news to you anymore that the three candidates in the '08 presidential election have had their passport files illegally accessed. however, i think that it is worth discussing the media-ted response to the event itself. this msnbc article, like so many other poorly-orchestrated communications, works so hard for little return. the actual information is that the files of all three candidates were looked at by state department employees. this is illegal, as anyone's private information belongs only to its individual owner. the information that is communicated in this article is 7% the aforementioned fact. the other, oh 90% or so, is attempting to get your hackles up-- your favorite candidate was violated! s/he could be compromised by this setback! or, what if those state department buffoons are illegally accessing my information RIGHT NOW?
relax, jimbo. this is an absurdity. the files were breached, it happened. there should be no "fallout", no emotional media response other than to note that this is illegal, and we shouldn't stand for illegal actions within the administrations of our federal government. that's it-- that's all there is to say. the candidates themselves seemed appropriately offended that perhaps their personal data had been compromised (that is to say, viewed by someone else.) i might be upset if someone pulled my records unnecessarily to examine them for (personal?) gain.
it just seems silly to promulgate conspiracy theories based on this. obama visited a muslim country? ok, good! he should go see how the rest of the world operates before he endeavors to become our leader to parlay with that world. mccain went overseas? okay, wasn't he in a war? it's also plain to me (especially in light of the recent spitzer catastrophe), that public figures are PUBLIC FIGURES. yes, they should expect a decent amount of privacy, the same guaranteed to any other american. however, it doesn't seem unreasonable that the voting public, the selfsame public they endeavor to represent, should have the access to knowledge about the candidates. i don't need to know the minutia of my candidate's life choices, but i do think that as a public figure, one would expect to reveal more details of one's life for public scrutiny. it's part of the gauntlet of representation that accompanies public office.
the spitzer ordeal was especially painful to me because it seems that we live in an increasingly transparent world, where hiding information requires a considerable amount of skill and discipline. i would hope that my elected representatives would spend their time engaging in activities promote the public good, and not re-structuring their finances to hide illegal activities. obviously, spitzer is an extreme case. but i feel like it defines something more concrete that we should insist on in our elected officials. glastnost! perestroika! yes yes, we neeeeeeeeeeeeeed to know what they're doing! yes, i'm not trying to fool anyone: i'm going to judge them, and their ability to fulfill their duty. it is that level of responsibility that we should demand from our public servants, and we should be holding them to that level of intense scrutiny. i believe that is something that comes with public office, and if you shy away from the critical public eye (assuming there is one...) well, perhaps you don't deserve the position.
3.14.2008
"Maybe," thought Francie, "she doesn't love me as much as she loves Neeley. But she needs me more than she needs him and I guess being needed is almost as good as being loved. Maybe better."
-betty smith's fabulous a tree grows in brooklyn
lots of posts to come about thermodynamics, nola, jose gonzalez live, some stuff on other music.... and pi day! just no time for typing, sadly.
-betty smith's fabulous a tree grows in brooklyn
lots of posts to come about thermodynamics, nola, jose gonzalez live, some stuff on other music.... and pi day! just no time for typing, sadly.
2.14.2008
i'm thinking of a dream i had
last night, it went like this:
i was home at my parents place for awhile during what felt like winter break, but there was no discernible christmas goings-on. i decided that the downtime was good for getting in some physical fitness, so i went to the track at my high school to run a little. in my dream, the track was different than it normally is; it was inside and worked its way around the gym. there was a concert going on in the gym during my jog, amy winehouse was singing her heart out. as i was on the outside, i could hear it and hear the commentary, which was less like sports-commentary and more like talking-heads-narrating-a-parade.
after my jog, i went home. i told my mom about amy winehouse's concert which i saw for FREE. since my mom's out of the loop on pop culture sometimes, i filled her in on amy winehouse's "soul chantuese of the century" status. my mom didn't bat an eye, and said, "that's nice, honey... you know amy's staying with us, right?" i'd been getting something out of the fridge while talking to my mom, and there sitting at the dining room table was a mute amy winehouse. she had really red pouty lips. i'm a little flabbergasted, and my mom explains that she really loves amy's music, and amy needed a place to stay during her 7-night tour of the high school gym. so she's staying with us. and it's a little upsetting because everyone in the family has a cold right now, so they can't properly enjoy the time with amy.
my mom reached into the fridge for what first appeared as cold medecine she was going to dole out to my illin' family members. but then i saw it was coke! she was fixin' to freebase a little coke to make ease the flu! i protested, again flabbergasted, and she countered with, "oh honey, it's just fine for colds. everyone will feel better in a jif!" and then she served coke to amy winehouse.
the end!
i was home at my parents place for awhile during what felt like winter break, but there was no discernible christmas goings-on. i decided that the downtime was good for getting in some physical fitness, so i went to the track at my high school to run a little. in my dream, the track was different than it normally is; it was inside and worked its way around the gym. there was a concert going on in the gym during my jog, amy winehouse was singing her heart out. as i was on the outside, i could hear it and hear the commentary, which was less like sports-commentary and more like talking-heads-narrating-a-parade.
after my jog, i went home. i told my mom about amy winehouse's concert which i saw for FREE. since my mom's out of the loop on pop culture sometimes, i filled her in on amy winehouse's "soul chantuese of the century" status. my mom didn't bat an eye, and said, "that's nice, honey... you know amy's staying with us, right?" i'd been getting something out of the fridge while talking to my mom, and there sitting at the dining room table was a mute amy winehouse. she had really red pouty lips. i'm a little flabbergasted, and my mom explains that she really loves amy's music, and amy needed a place to stay during her 7-night tour of the high school gym. so she's staying with us. and it's a little upsetting because everyone in the family has a cold right now, so they can't properly enjoy the time with amy.
my mom reached into the fridge for what first appeared as cold medecine she was going to dole out to my illin' family members. but then i saw it was coke! she was fixin' to freebase a little coke to make ease the flu! i protested, again flabbergasted, and she countered with, "oh honey, it's just fine for colds. everyone will feel better in a jif!" and then she served coke to amy winehouse.
the end!
2.02.2008
conjur woman @ la mama etc
CONJUR WOMAN: folk opera.
when i first heard the title, i wondered how "folk" and "opera" could cooperate. i'll spare you webster's thoughts on those words, but it to me, folkish elements are earthy, emotional, rootsy, commutual, raw. and the operatic is educated, particular, effortful, high-minded, pretentious. do not be confused as to the auspices of conjur woman; it only uses "opera" as a formal structure, a thematic medley of songs. conjur woman is all folk.
it's also a one-woman show that runs about fifty minutes. and it's constant singing, which is a testament to the amazing power of the voice of the conjur woman, obie-winner sheila dabney. one woman, three musicians, and a bare stage composed entirely of wooden planks. these planks served a dual purpose. on one hand, they illustrate the folk show's bare bones, populace-of-scarcity style; and on the other, they underscore one of the play's major thematic elements: the verticality, the axiality, and the naturality of trees.
in the songs of the conjur woman, trees illustrate love and escape, the comforts of passion and the anxiety-stricken way out. in an especially evocative set of cadences, she uses her magic rituals to transform her lover into a tree so he'll be safe from the villanous grasp of white slave-traders. yes. this emotional event, its rising action and aftermath, are conveyed in a 50-minute set of songs. and the communication isn't easily done, the entire production seemed challenged to maintain the ritualistic emotions over the time period.
i think the opening scene was the strongest, the most arresting. the conjur woman limps on the stage with the aid of bluesy guitar chords. her body pains her and her memories pain her, and when she opens her mouth to sing, you feel her pain. her opening lament is a thing of great beauty. i could feel my heart in my throat as she sang about what she had lost. this begs the question (that we should all consider during the month of february,) what color could tears be other than black?
Photographer: Brian Hilg courtesy David Gibbs/DARR Publicity.
the rhythmic guitar and her rich, earthy voice illustrated the anguish and the simplicity and the animalistic qualities of the tale before it even began. unfortunately, the opening song was so compelling and so well orchestrated that the rest of the play couldn't quite maintain the same level of emotional communication.
my companion and i discussed afterwards our own guilt at failing to pay attention during the middle of the show. it was obviously intended to be emotional and absorbing, except that it didn't have an overall narrative shape that was designed to hold one's attention for fifty minutes. i realized, though, that this is okay. while not paying exact attention to every utterance from the conjur woman, my thoughts drifted towards magic and sexuality and rhythm and religion. and this is the nature of folk. we love it because it brings out unusual, yet natural things in our own selves.
the tale sung by the conjur woman isn't the six o'clock news: it is a Tale. both and operatic and consummate, this play is about Folk and Telling. it is her journey in emotional communication, and if we are caught up in the eddies of our own emotions, then our journeys have been enriched and counterpointed by hers.
1.22.2008
a word on puberty
when you're really little, your body is your total ally. it enables you to run and jump and climb and talk and taste and see and to enact myriad other great action verbs. you learn how to use your body to get the things that you want- another peanut butter sandwich, a new record in jump rope, a big hug. unfortunately, when you hit puberty, everything changes. your body decides it wants to hate you! hate everything about the you that is you that you've spent years figuring out!
your body mutinies. suddenly you start bleeding. uncontrollably! regularly! you spent thirteen years of your life trying really hard to keep all that blood on the inside, and suddenly your crazy stupid body is tryin a push it all out. you've worked really hard to run faster than all the neighborhood kids. you can beat anybody across the blacktop as a fifth-grader. and then what happens? tumors! they sprout on your chest! slowing you down, ruining your stride and your proud pace. and don't even let me get started on feeeeeelings.
in elementary school, i had it figured out. boys were scum. they smelled funny and didn't know the right way of doing anything. there were two that were tolerable, and they were in my gifted ed class. the others were useless except for chasing at recess or taunting (this included my brothers.) suddenly, as of thirteen, i was supposed to "like" boys?! my friends were developing crushes and i was supposed to like the stinky creatures too! it was too much to take for awhile-- my whole system was shocked... bleeding, mutinous, tumorous!
now that i'm lightyears in the future, i can say that i'm overwhelmed that this happens to everyone. i'm still nostalgic about the good old days before people expectations toed the gender line. and i'm still wigged out that my body turned against me with so much vigor.
1.16.2008
more like benevolenvy
the reason people have blogs is to convey personality maps like that one.
also, this meme is worth its own post, but it's been a long day: i, rearrangement servant. spat out that i could be know as "escarole inner om". yes, thank you internets.
1.15.2008
battleship:subway!
who: you, and your fellow train-rider
what: an epic and impromptu game of battleship staged only inside massimo vignelli's helvetica-plastered conceptual map of the new york city subway. you each have two battleships made of sixpoints and two points, and you choose locations for them-- they must be consecutive but not necessarily linear along the train lines. your opponent calls out stations, (or in the super-challenging version you only exchange line numbers...) so then once you've made a hit, you have to try all the surrounding stations to see if you can sink a ship!
when: times when you only have a map and there's still a long way to travel
where: on the train, silly!
why: well, it beats moody silence
1.08.2008
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