Thursday, May 1, 2008

on beauty and being just

Today, it is the very existence of beauty as an intrinsic property of art that is in doubt. Beauty, Marx-inspired social constructionists tell us, is but a figment of class interest or social indoctrination, and anyway it only came into existence at the same time as the fine arts in the eighteenth-century. Today, loving beauty, like enjoying cigars or thick steaks, or having a Mexican maid, is something we are supposed to regard as politically awkward.

- Denis Dutton, reviewing OBABJ

Frank O'Hara writes:

That's for the writing poems part. As for their reception, suppose you're in love and someone's mistreating you, you don't say, "Hey, you can't hurt me this way, I care!" you just let all the different bodies fall where they may, and they always do may after a few months.

- Personism

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

5 Great Things I Learned from the New Yorker Today

From a fantastic article by David Owen titled "Penny Dreadful." Somewhere, I'm sure, there's a comprehensive list of penny factoids, but I just culled the best ones out of his article.

1. Pennies manufactured before 1982, which are ninety-five percent copper, are valued for metal content at two-and-a-half cents apiece.

2. It costs 1.7 cents to produce a penny - meaning that every year, the U.S. mint loses fifty million dollars on penny acquisition.

3. It costs 10 cents to produce a nickel.

4. Breaking stride to pick up a penny, if it takes more than 6.15 seconds, pays less than the federal minimum wage.

5. The U.S. government used to manufacture half-pennies but stopped making them in 1857 due to their limited purchasing value. In 1857, the half-cent purchased far more than a dime does today.

See? Isn't learning fun?

On my ipod: still the mountain goats...
In my fridge: tomato and red pepper soup
On my mind: sex, love, emasculation, war bonds...and furniture

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

sublime

A working definition of romanticism: A valorization of nature over social text, as over the machine; a preference for the experience of the individual over the group; a tone of high seriousness - melancholy being the "sublimest" tone - instead of wit, satire, learnedness; a faith in inspiration and spiritedness instead of reason's logic. (Baker 171)

A procedural example of melodrama: On the day that Dennis Brown's lung collapsed, spring rain was misting down on Kingston. Down at the harbor local cops were intercepting an inbound shipment. For awhile there it was chaos as they handcuffed and then roughed up some sailors. On the day my lung collapses it's not gonna be much different. (Darnielle 381)


On my ipod: something new
On my mind: same old, same old.
On my desk: a paper that's actually going somewhere...

Sunday, March 9, 2008

food politics is BACK

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/09/business/worldbusiness/09crop.html?hp

saw this great story in the NYT this morning. All caveats aside - and there are MANY, - I think this is great news. Having food priced based on actual market value is far preferable to the current mess of subsidies.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

So long, analog!

If you're anything like me, analog television is tucked away with Oregon Trail, SimAnt, the original Apple IIE and the blinking DOS prompt - fleeting, nostalgic, and almost entirely forgotten. Rabbit ears? Snow? Sounds lovely, but I still wouldn't trade it for a PC in every house. Apparently Congress agrees - as of February 2009, analog in New York will be no more:

Gotham Gazette: Though many New Yorkers don't yet know it, the clock is ticking on their television reception. The federal government has set Feb. 17, 2009, as the date on which television broadcasters must switch from an analog signal to a digital one. This change means anyone with a television set more than a couple of years old who wants to keep getting free broadcasts over the air needs to take action....A Consumers Union survey found that nearly a quarter of consumers who are aware of the transition believe they will need to throw out their analog televisions after 2009. "This would mean thousands of perfectly good televisions getting kicked to the curb," Kelsey worries, "resulting in an immense amount of dangerous electronic waste" -- something New York City already has enough of.

Half of the consumers whom this will affect don't know it's coming - that same survey reports that fewer than 50% of American viewers are unaware of the digital transition. Given that 80 percent of those who watch analog television still get it for free (mostly older and lower income viewers), the prospect of shelling out $50 for a converter - or worse, getting cable - will undoubtedly come as a bit of a shock.

So there it is: a moment of silence for the analog signal I never had and didn't know I wanted until it was too late. Farewell and adieu - you will certainly be missed.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Sunday bloody sunday

Three hours of Dubliners, followed by Elvis Presley and hard drink - Joyce is fucking HARD to read! The early stuff is deceptive, too - so quickly, we're out of realism and into something totally weird...

I've been trying to listen to more music lately, as befits my drugged up and melancholic state. Kimya Dawson is amazing - been listening to the Juno soundtrack to cheer me up, with the Frames thrown in for when I need to feel sad again. On the plus side, P&F also introduced me to the Eels, which I've only heard a bit of but really like. It's amazing - the world of indie rock is finally taking over my life.

On my ipod: Elvis!
On my bookshelf: Gin and tonic
On my mind: School and finances - ugh...

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Pretty Boys in Flannel

So, after my phenomenally bad date at Fat Cat (which remains my favorite bar, in spite of the poor love vibes), I found myself back in Sheridan Square with my friend Jess to see a band called kneebody at Bar 55. I'm not a huge fan of alternative rock or freeform jazz, but I was totally won over by this band - a surprise, given that 1) they were sort of loud, and 2) they had no lyrics or melody to speak of. To say that they were in sync doesn't really capture it - it was more like moments of perfect synchrony, where the trumpet and saxophonist would align and improvise in tandem, and then slowly trade off until the difference was almost imperceptible. Anyone can do frenetic jazz. This was fucking amazing.

Jess, who knows more about these things than I do, said they sounded like a bunch of geeky jazz guys who had listened to too much Radiohead in music school. I don't care what it is - I think I'm in love.


In my fridge: Tea and artichokes
On my lap: Cat
On my stereo: Jerome Miniere