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Eat French Bread - September 2006

DEATH

September 29th 2006 04:04
Not quite as colourful and light a topic as yesterday's, but worthy of contemplation none the less.

A child who watches a few hours of cartoons, TV or film a day is said to witness over 10000 deaths before the age of 15. What does that do to our feelings about our own mortality?

Other civilisations have contemplated death in very different ways. The ancient Egyptians are said to have had an obsession with death and their rituals of mummification, elaborate ceremony and opulent tombs for the elite show an unparalleled reverence for the dead and a strong belief that there is an afterlife to be prepared for.

Even contemporary cultures such as that of Mexico show a very different relationship with death. The ancient Aztec celebration, Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) is a massive national holiday of joyous celebration. The dead are remembered and so is the mortality of the living.

But our society, though saturated with images of death, seems to have a general shyness talking about death on a personal level. Woody Allen said it well with his words, “it's not that I'm afraid to die, I just don't want to be there when it happens.” Just as our cultural taboos about sex create pornography, the taboos about death in out society create the cartoonish and gruesome representations of death in our popular culture, making it a shocking spectacle rather than an inevitable part of life’s cycle.

Death is, after all, the one certainty (because even taxes are avoided by some) - so perhaps we need to be more open about it. Words like ‘descesed,’ ‘late,’ ‘departed’ and ‘passed away’ all detour the heavy connotations of ‘dead.’ But wouldn’t being more in touch with our mortality make us live better? Perhaps…

On the one hand, if we are given, say, six months to live, would we finally do all the things we procrastinate about? I guess I would hope to eat all the things I like to eat, dance to the music I love, be with the people who inspire me, live more and love more. Maybe I’d try heroin. Maybe I’d type faster. The idea is that I would embrace my living moments in a new way.

On the other hand, maybe those who have no concept of their mortality are the ones who really live more. Jung said that life like an arrow to it’s target: from the moment it begins it is aiming for death, and at midlife it stops it’s ascent and begins it’s decent. It is then that we must realise out mortality and develop a philosophy about it. So in its initial ascent, the arrow has not realised that it is heading straight to death and it soars up and up. Is the youth freer, more reckless and more active precisely because they don’t think about their death?

It would be wrong to suggest that our culture ignores the concept of death completely. We do have varied rituals for funerals, burials and mourning, all designed to make the emotional experience more tangible for those the deceased left behind.

I remember wondering as a kid why they put make-up on the corpse and a satin pillow in the coffin if the person is dead anyway. It was explained to me that it is not for the dead person but for the people still living. It isn’t to help the soul get to the afterlife, as in Tutankhamen’s tomb, it is to make the dead less dead for those still living.

Another tactic for dealing with the intangibility of death in our culture has been to come up with a personification of it. The Grim Reaper with his dark hooded cloak and scythe has regularly appeared in pop culture to make death something palpable and often comical. In The Meaning Of Life, Death shows up at a dinner party and announces “I am Deeeeeath.” In true Monty Python fashion, the guests are somewhat unfazed and try to make Death welcome. When he says “you are all deeeeeeead,” the host remarks “well that’s cast rather a gloom over the evening hasn’t it?”


Rather than give you a picture of death, here’s one I took at the Thames of a piece by Bansky



Quote Of The day:
"For three days after death hair and fingernails
continue to grow but phone calls taper off."
Johnny Carson
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LEGO

September 27th 2006 11:05
I’m not one of those enthusiasts who make unfeasibly complicated massive LEGO sculptures and “brickfilms,” I just think it’s a pretty great. I haven’t even touched a LEGO brick for over a decade probably, so I’ve got nothing on the AFOLs ("Adult Fans of Lego”) who are a valuable demographic for the company. I just remember LEGOing as a kid and it all worked so well and made so much sense. I liked how I was the controlling master of my LEGO world – capable of constructing something from nothing which would stay put until I wanted to destruct it again. That’s probably more telling about my psychological self than the coloured bricks, but LEGO really is an example of brilliant design.

The Danish company started creating wooden toys in 1932 and came up with blocks that could lock together. They coined the name LEGO from the Danish phrase “leg godt,” which means "play well." With the invention of plastic the little bricks became what we now know them as. It was in the mid 1950’s, an era of wonderful innovation in design. I bet you didn’t know that the Lego group is currently the largest tire manufacturer in the world, producing over 300 million miniature tires each year.


See the video for The White Stripes’ Fell in Love with a Girl by Michel Gondry - digitised live footage recreated with LEGO.

Ego vero me minus diu senem esse mallem, quam esse senem, antequam essem
(“For my part, in truth, I would rather be old less long than be old before I am old”)
Michel de Montaigne, 1533-1592




Images: Wikipedia

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anzac bridge snapshots

September 22nd 2006 05:22




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After yesterday’s tedious examination of commodity fetishism and ‘bling’ consumerist culture, I find myself writing about one of my favourite fetishised commodities: the red shoe. What a joy it is to give a flick of flame to any outfit. I don’t even know how many pairs I have. Here’s one of my favourites - not quite the sparkling Ferragamo stilettos but definitely red. I also love at the moment red shoes paired with red socks or stockings.

I think I was 8-years-old when I first chose a pair of shoes. They were bright red and plastic and I was ecstatic. I show and telled them at school and was the envy of all my friends. I immediately regretted it when I agreed to lend them to a girl named Simone who begged me and said she would return them the next day. I didn’t want to part with them but had already said yes so I handed them over. And never saw them again.
Simone told me her dog ate them, which was the only time I have ever actually heard that excuse used for real. I guess a dog is more likely to eat shoes than homework, so maybe she was telling the truth. But I never recovered.

Years later, when I was in highschool, the teacher introduced a new student to the class named Simone, who looked oddly familiar. When I figured out that it was the same girl I confronted her in the middle of class. She denied ever having seen any red shoes of mine but I wouldn't let it go. It became a bit of an in-joke in that class, the teacher would always say that the worst thing anyone could do to anyone would be to take their red shoes.

Because red leather was initially very expensive to buy, red shoes were a symbol of status for both men and women. But red has long been associated in many cultures with passion, power and sex, and the red shoe has appeared recurrently in the imagination in relation to freneticism. In the Brothers Grimm version of the Snow White story, the wicked stepmother is
forced to wear ret-hot iron shoes and dance in them until she falls down dead. It is her punishment for being too heated herself with envy over Snow White, and for letting that passion get out of control.

Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale, The Red Shoes, also warns about the dangers of vanity. A child named Karen is unable to remove her red shoes and unable to stop dancing in them. The shoes dance her feet across meadows and forests for months. Wretched and exhausted, she finally begs an executioner to chop off her feet: "Don't chop my head off," she says, "for then I can never repent of my sins. But pray, pray chop off my feet with the red shoes!" He does, and the chopped off red shoes dance away with her feet still in them.

“Put on your red shoes and dance the blues” sings David Bowie in that fantastic track Let’s Dance. The video, shot in Australia, shows some young Aboriginals who find a pair of red shoes in the desert. Like in so many narratives, they make their wearer dance. The shoes bring the young
couple a new cosmopolitan lifestyle which they love, but the pleasure to be had in material indulgence is transient. After they get rid of the shoes by stamping them into the dirt, they dance freely on a head land. Here, red shoes are a temptation to be resisted.

But for Marilyn Monroe, they were to be embraced. The iconic diamante stilettos in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (right) were made for her by Salvatore Ferragamo and reportedly sold for over US$50 000 in the most recent auction of Monroe’s pieces.

A few decades earlier Ferragamo had also made perhaps to most famous red shoes ever – the magic ruby slippers that take Dorothy Gale back home in the 1939 film
version of The Wizard of Oz. In the novel the shoes had been silver but they were made ruby red for the film to take advantage of it being in colour, and perhaps to suggest the empowerment that red shoes connote.

And what an iconic image those shoes became.




All those girls
Who wore the red shoes
Each boarded a train that would not stop
Stations flew by like suitors and would not stop

From Anne Sexton’s poem The Red Shoes








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Missy and Marx

September 18th 2006 07:44
How is the bling-culture of today to be read in the light of general Marxist theory? Marxism says that in capitalism, a perceived personal freedom exists for the individuals who excel within the relationships of the ruling class, but in communism that freedom would belong to all. In Missy Eliot’s song, Click Clack the self-assertion of status and identity is based solely on personal appearance (“hotter than a summer day”); personal wealth as displayed by fetishised commodities (“semi-automatic track, drink a lot of similac”); and personal career achievements (“my record deal, my movie deal, I’m super sick-sick”). This goes against the Marxist idea that “only in the community with others has each individual the means of cultivating his gifts in all directions; only in the community … is personal freedom possible” [German Ideology]. How close to personal freedom is someone who defines themselves solely on being individually better (tougher, richer, hotter, more successful)? Marx and Engles say that in order to really assert themselves as individuals, the people “must overthrow the State” [ibid.] and exist collectively.

The fetishised commodities that are valued in songs such as Click Clack – fast cars, bling, fashion accessories - all require labour and means of production but are disconnected from that at their reception. They are valued in terms of how they connote a level of status and confirm a position of power. In our capitalist system identities and social relationships are defined by the acquisition of private property. According to Marxism, this system denies individuals awareness of their social relations and creates a continuing status anxiety where everyone within the capitalist mode of production has an insatiable desire to consume: “I make cash, pay them bills, I pay them bills that buy them wheels.”

Marxism also foresaw that within a capitalist mode of production the individual would be commodified to gain social desirability through the valuation of their identity. Missy Elliott is a fictional character who was invented by Melissa Elliott and a team of stylists, press agents, dance choreographers, make-up artists and managers, to be marketed and sold. Because she is such a strong brand, she is a valuable endorser of other commodities. She recently appeared in print and television commercials for the conservative clothing label Gap, and her association with it was designed to give it more street cred.

The division of labour talked about by the early Marxists has since changed rapidly with things such as the emergence of the middle class, but the
exploitation of workers still exists. In our increasingly globalised world, the West turns to developing countries to use the labour of their cheaper workers, bringing the products back home to market them as expensive and desirable commodities. This is the case with designer brands like Adidas, popularized by the early hip-hop movement and now in partnership with Missy Elliott who recently launched her Adidas line of clothing, Respect M.E.

Marx said that the world is not made of disconnected and isolated ideas, but is an integrated whole in a state of ceaseless flux. The rise of hip-hop has been arguably the most influential pop music form of the last generation and is the result of the ongoing class conflict has been going on in various forms since for as long as civilization. It allowed the underprivileged black youth of urban slums in America not only a voice, but a means to economic advantage.

The beginnings of hip-hop are traced to the block parties of the Bronx in the early 1970s. The lack of wealth made for a creative and playful mode of production using existing products to create a style that offered free escape from the poverty of urban ghettos and the social alienation of black youth in a racist society. The music would cost nothing to make: amateur performers improvised lyrics, beat boxers provided beats with nothing but their voices, and DJs would sample sounds from existing records. Artistic styles like graffiti murals and break dancing also required no money to produce – the streets provided canvases and dance floors.

Inevitably major record companies latched on to the commercial possibilities of the new aesthetic and the dress, language, music and attitudes were quickly commodified. Innovative and experimental as it once was, the genre now floats right in the middle of the main stream and accounts for over 25% of all new record sales. Though born out of the desire to reject the White middle-class aesthetic, the uniform of low-slung jeans, Timberland boots, expensive trainers, big chains and designer tracksuits has become de rigueur among many youth cultures world wide.

The Roots, Mos Def and Talib Kweli are among some of the more recent successful artists who carry socially progressive messages, but voices like theirs are usually drowned out by the big stars who vocalise commodity fetishism such as 50 Cent, Jay Z, Puff Daddy, N.E.R.D and Missy Elliott. Public Enemy were one of the strongest voices of dissent to come out of early commercial hip-hop. Songs like Fight The Power carried a message that could be aligned with post-Marxist thinking: “to revolutionize make a change nothing’s strange … people, people we are the same … power to the people no delay … in order to fight the powers that be.” But today the message is different: bling-music says you can join those powers that be and acquire wealth for yourself, showing the rich and comfortable that they no longer have the same power over you.

So how should a song like Click Clack should be valued in terms of artistic merit, if at all? If we use Lukac’s model of true art being something that “combats the alienation and fragmentation of capitalist society, projecting a rich, many-sided image of human wholeness” [The Meaning of Contemporary Criticism] ,it falls hopelessly short. Missy’s sophisticated rhythms and arrangements pastiche various musical styles to create chaotic layers of sounds that reflect the feelings of frantic urban life in capitalist society, but I would say it offers no answers or insight. I would also say that it isn’t expected to and doesn’t pretend to.

Art has the power to change the course of history by influencing how things are thought about, but that potential is largely absent from the generic pop song. Pop music is an entirely Western form and many critics have observed that today it is increasingly manufactured with commercial gain in mind. Since Marx’s time, we have watched commerce get more and more comfortable in bed with 'art', and it’s not looking like it is going to leave any time soon. Perhaps even if the performer intends to communicate ideas that are in some way revolutionary, the form of the pop song will inhibit the message because it is so deeply ingrained in Western consumerism. Missy Elliott is an executive with a record label, a clothing line, a reality TV series, Hollywood blockbuster soundtrack collaborations and various associated merchandise. Click Clack is from her sixth solo album, The Cookbook, which has currently sold over 1.2 million copies globally.

Perhaps the music is to be listened to as tongue-in-cheek commentary on the emptiness of materialism: a reflection of an aggressive culture obsessed with excess rather than an endorsement of it. But even if the excess and hedonism is to be received with irony, it must come from somewhere. So whether the materialism is being subscribed to or merely reflected on, bling culture communicates something that is unique to modern capitalist society.





Images: Wikipedia (1, 2)
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Female Flashers

September 14th 2006 15:08
There’s not enough of them! ‘Flasher’ is rightly defined in the dictionary as “informal: a person, esp. a man, who exposes his genitals in public.” But why is a flasher especially a man? I recently found myself wondering why every girl I know has a story about strange men getting their bits out in front of them in public, but we never hear of women doing the same.

Does a higher testosterone level make men more compelled to exhibit themselves to passive strangers? Is it because of the way they are built? It’s certainly not as physically easy for a woman to get her genitalia out there... Is it because men are more arrogant and get off on the feeling of imposing themselves on victimised onlookers? Is it because men are more insecure about their genitals and getting a shocked reaction gives them some sort of reassurance? Or is it that women refrain from it because a
Cicciolina On Show
chick with her vagina open to the elements in a public place is more vulnerable to rape? Maybe women are already so conscious of being always seen that there is no pleasure in apodysophilia? As John Berger told us "Men look at women. Women watch them selves being looked at."

Certainly the women who do flash in public fall under the fetishised male gaze and evoke a far more sexualised reaction than male flashers do. Perhaps the most famous female exhibitionist is the Italian-Hungarian porn star turned politician Cicciolina who is known for, among other things, exposing her huge breasts at at any opportunity, earning her welcome publicity. The American Girls Gold Wild videos show endless shots of young women flashing their tits and ass for the camera in exchange for a GGW hat or t-shirt, but they do it for the male gaze and the 15 seconds of fame it might bring them. Similarly the girls on the Jerry Springer Show, who are rewarded a string of beads for flashing their breasts, are not doing it because of a personal psychological desire.

Our culture is saturated with greased-up babes putting it on show and pouting for the camera, but where are the genuine female flashers who do it for themselves? Not the ones in it for glory or to please or to get a free t-shirt or string of beads, but the ones who flash just because they want to…

Lady Godiva by John Collier, ca 1898
Flashing is also referred to as the Lady Godiva symptom, a term that arose from a legend involving public nudity in Coventry, England – by a woman. She is said to have rode naked through the streets to gain a remission of the oppressive toll imposed by her husband on his tenants. But this wasn’t what I was looking for either, as her action was out of a sense of duty to the people. I wanted to find a woman who did it simply to arouse herself. That’s why all those men do it, right?

And then, bingo, look what I came across in the fashion/art magazine Bon International (#8) from feminist artist Joanna Rytel:

“I want to expose myself to guys … I don’t want to do it to take revenge on the patriarchy, even if my cunt is a weapon now. I just want to do it. I want to give you the gift of pussy. That turns me on. I am a female exhibitionist.”

So, is she the only one or are there more female exhibitionists out there who “just want to”?




Images: Wikipedia (1, 2)
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Ah, but we die to each other daily
What we know of other people
Is only our memory of the moments
During which we knew them. And they have changed
since then.

To pretend that they and we are the same
Is a useful and convenient social convention
Which must sometimes broken. We must also remember
That at every meeting we are meeting a stranger.

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Goldfish Memory

September 12th 2006 08:47
“It’s okay to eat fish ‘cause they don’t have any feelings," sang Kurt Cobain in the song Something In The Way - but where does this idea come from?

With doctors and dieticians constantly advising us to eat more seafood, it is an inconvenient truth that eating fish is in fact no more ethically sound than eating any other animal - but that is what recent research is saying.

PETA’s Fish Empathy Project is a campaign to increase awareness of the intelligence and sentience of fish. On their website they cite Dr. Donald Broom saying, “the scientific literature is quite clear. Anatomically, physiologically and biologically, the pain system in fish is virtually the same as in birds and animals.” (Note that their mascot is a cute cartoonish fish who’s eyes have been given eyelids and placed in front, since an animal with ever-open gaping eyes on the side of it’s head, is perceivably less trust worthy or harder to relate to...)

Animal rights campaigning rarely extends to fish and it is curious that while there is popular support for sparing marine animals like whales and dolphins, there is minimal concern for the treatment of species like tuna. Do we misunderstand living fish because they are so far removed from our daily lives? Do we think that because they don’t express pain in a way we recognise, such as making noise audible to us, they don’t experience it? Is it because we don’t see them as affectionate in any way? Is it simply a tactic to clear our conscience so we can eat our salmon sashimi guilt-free?

Also untrue is the widespread idea that fish have a memory span of three seconds. Again, I would suggest the myth
exists because it’s comforting to believe that the goldfish swimming around the same little bowl of water for its entire life, never boars from it since after every three seconds it’s all completely new.

As Friedrich Nietzsche told us, “the advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time.”

I always thought that the fish’s three-second memory sounded like a pretty enviable existence, not to mention the incapacity to feel pain – but now both ideas are being thrown out the window.

Ten years of research by renowned fish expert and lecturer in Biology at Macquarie University, Dr Culum Brown, is showing that fish are as socially adept as monkeys and elephants. He says the three second memory gibe is nothing more than a fishy fallacy and “it's completely ridiculous that an animal could survive without a memory."

As a nine-year-old I remember wondering how my beloved goldfish (named, incidentally, Kurt Cobain) could have no memory of anything more than a few seconds old, yet know how to eat, and seemingly associate my fingers wiggling on the water surface, with food. But such was the potency of the goldfish memory myth; I assumed whatever she seemed to recognise must be intuitive, since she couldn’t remember anything. Poor Kurt died getting stuck behind the tank filter and now I have to live with the knowledge that she probably did experience pain, too. RiP Kurt Cobain.



Quote For The Day:

"Creditors have better
memories than debtors."

Benjamin Franklin (1706 - 1790)






Images: Wikipedia (1,2,3)

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Black Is The New Black

September 10th 2006 09:00
The consumer commentator Bernard Salt says black will be in fashion for as long as the baby boomers are fat. Dressing in black came into vogue in the early 1990’s, just as the baby boomers hit middle age and wanted to conceal their newfound bellies and bottoms. An interesting take.

I’m not a baby boomer but I have been thinking for some time that my wardrobe needs more black: colour is just not cutting it for me at the moment. I haven't, however, felt the need to extend the black trend to my bathroom and update my so-last-season 2-ply white toilet paper. Earlier this year the Portuguese company Revova launched it’s black TP, and according to The New York Times article This Season’s Must Have: The Little Black Roll, it has been snapped up by a number of Manhattan's urgent hot spots like the Double Seven, Frederick's Bar & Lounge, Frederick's Restaurant and the basement bar at La Esquina. It says the wow factor gets people talking, but guests tend to pinch the rolls.

I haven’t decided whether I think it’s fabulous or banal. Can toilet paper be an object of cutting edge design? Should it? I like the confusion it could arouse, since the colour is so counterintuitive to the product. But most anything can be chic for some period of time and when its value is based solely on shock, it’s not going to have a very long shelf life. Ultimately I think it’s momentarily interesting but anything trying so hard to be edgy, and with such heavy brand management and hype, can’t really be cool. Just have a look at the pretension in their press release:

Elegant, sophisticated, rebellious, alternative and eternally fashionable, black has become virtually synonymous with chic and style. But while this colour is often present in avant-garde creative work, no one has ever dared to use it for toilet paper until now. Black in the loo, how chic and sophisticated can you get?

It gets worse. On their website they suggest you “look out for your family with the very best in luxury bath tissue,” “discover today which tissue product is more fashionable & unique, just right for your sensual needs” and “be invaded by these vibrant pulpy and glossy black handkerchiefs.”

In the NY Times article Paulo Miguel Pereira da Silva, the president of the company, is quoted as saying "the question for us was not why, but why not." He had been thinking about the idea of spectacle and how it relates to consumer products, and black was an intuitive choice for toilet paper because it signals "avant-garde creative work." "In a design sense, black means irreverence, maybe touching a bit on the core nature of art, which is to break rules and set new ones. Culturally, deep down, Renova Black invites people to break down whatever might be limiting as common sense ideas,” he says. His new product is “not solely a product, an object or a communication tool," but some heady combination of all three. Such modesty.

So is the idea of black toilet paper so bizarre that it’s brilliant? What do you think?

Now for the (rather twisted) quote of the day (apologies in advance):

"But to conclude, I say and maintain that there is no arse-wiper like a well-downed goose, if you hold her neck between your legs. You must take my word for it, you really must. You get a miraculous sensation in your arse-hole, both from the softness of the down and from the temperate heat of the goose herself; and this is easily communicated to the bum-gut and the rest of the intestines, from which it reaches the heart and the brain."

From chapter 13 of the first book of the 16th century series of novels Gargantua and Pantagruel by François Rabelais: "How Grandgousier realized Gargantua's marvelous intelligence, by his invention of an Arse-wipe."
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What's With The Word 'O.K.'?

September 9th 2006 07:01
Ever wondered where things like the word O.K. came from? Apparently a guy named Rudolph Brasch did, and he wrote about it in a book called How Did It Begin? I just found it on our bookshelf and it’s got that great old paperback smell so I imagine it’s been around for a while. I’d like to ask this Rudolph character how the book itself began, because it’s full of the
British monthly magazine OK! was launched here in 2004 to feed the insatiable hunger for celebrity
strangest trivia. He looks at peculiarities like candles on birthday cakes, the aversion to red hair, X for a kiss, the Adam’s apple, expressions like “raining cats and dogs” or “break a leg.” Some to be saved for a future blog entry perhaps.

I flicked straight to “how did ‘O.K.’ begin?” because I have from time to time wondered exactly that, and have been offered some pretty varied attempted explanations from people, most of which explained nothing, and left the malcontent of my curiosity unaltered.

Is it an arbitrary word or an abbreviation or an acronym? Why is it the most globally used expression? Of all the possible explanations of its origin, it seems, we will never know which one is truly O.K. (or is it 'okay'?). According to Bresch: “This shortest and internationally adopted expression supplies one of the longest lists of possible explanations. Illiteracy, political slander, a clever election campaign, bureaucratic efficiency, a Red Indian chief and the French, they all, in turn, have been credited as the originators of O.K.” His accounts of each of these possibilities seem far fetched on their own, but perhaps the O.K. came into usage from a combination of factors.

Either way, it would be pretty hard to go a day without it. Certainly for the large-headed Mr Mackey, who uses the word at the end of everything he
Mr. Mackey on LSD
says. “Drugs are bad, m’kay?” “South Park is the shizzle m’kay?” and “I’m gonna kill myself, m’kay?” - this guy would be nothing without it. Check out his song Don't Say Fuck Anymore Just Use The Word M'Kay.

And if you, dear reader, think you know the story behind this funny little term, I would like to hear it, m'kay?






Images: Wikipedia (1,2)
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the day is done

September 5th 2006 04:11
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1844)


The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an Eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me,
That my soul cannot resist;

A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life's endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.
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there’s something about fruit toast

September 5th 2006 03:39
I don’t take much to plain dried fruit or plain toast but serve them to me together and I am a happy girl. Fruit pudding or Christmas cake can be pretty weird too but dried apricots, dates and raisin with spices in steamy hot bread with lots of melted butter – always hits the spot. Or serve it to me with ricotta if you want to make me an extra happy girl…

And now for some product placement.

Everybody must try: fruit toast from the organic baking company Sonoma – these guys really know their stuff when it comes to rustic woodfire breads.


Quote for the day:

“Never eat more than
you can lift”
(Miss Piggy)
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Thank God I’m An Atheist

September 4th 2006 12:28
Those are the words of one of my favourite atheists, the filmmaker Luis Buñuel. His lifelong rebellion against organized religion was instilled in him from his early education in a Spanish Jesuit school. In many of his films he mocked the pretension and hypocrisy of the Church with images like a bishop being thrown out a window or a bare-breasted little girl signing and showing off her legs to tempt a saint. “God and Country are an unbeatable team,” he said, “they break all records for oppression and bloodshed.”

By thanking God that he’s an atheist he drew attention to the paradox of being comfortably and unabashedly within the structure that he sought to challenge. He was both interior and exterior, but had the ability to stand outside his cultural self and show the suppressions imposed by bourgeois, patriarchal Catholic societies: “in a world as badly made as ours,” he said, “there is only one road – rebellion.”

A founder of surrealist cinema, his first film was the 1928 collaboration with his friend Salvador Dali, Un Chien Andalou. Images such as an eyeball being sliced with a razor blade have made it remembered as a pioneering surrealist work, and it continues to be shown in film societies regularly. Influenced by Freud’s theories of the subconscious, he explored ideas about desire and sexuality that were radical at the time, and succeeded in shocking the bourgeois and criticizing the avant-garde. Insects, farm animals, gore, women growing beards, and fetishistic shots of feet are combined to create chaotic confusion and form an acid view of the powerful and their excesses.

True to the spirit of surrealism, Buñuel avoided explaining or promoting his art. It is rumored that when his son was interviewed about on of Buñuel's later and most successful films, The Exterminating Angel, he was instructed to do the same. When asked about the presence of a bear he said it was because his father liked bears, and when asked about the repeated scenes he said they were there to increase the running time.

In 1936 the Spanish Civil War began and Buñuel set up a life working on films in Hollywood and in New York at the Museum of Modern Art. After being denounced by Dali as a communist and an Atheist, he resigned from the MOMA and moved to Mexico, where many of Spain's intellectuals and artists had emigrated after the Civil War. He made twenty films there, including the masterpiece of urban surrealism, Los Olvidados (1950), making him an instant world celebrity. He died in Mexico City in 1983.


(Another) quote from Buñuel:

“Age is something that doesn't matter, unless you are a cheese.”






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