Asymptosy

Asymptotic Hiatus

2008-08-15T12:46:00.002-05:00

Hey all of my loyal readers! (All 5 of you...) So as to ease your burden of checking for updates on my slowly dying blog, I have decided to declare an official hiatus on posting on Asymptosy. So, no need to check back for new posts, unless I specifically contact you and tell you I'm up and running again. (Don't worry about missing out on notification, thanks to the stalker-like technology that we have been graced with in modern society, I pretty much know who my regulars are.)

I'd like to say this wasn't an easy decision, but it actually was. I no longer have a computer (or even a desire to own one), and have too many other activities in my life that I enjoy more than blogging. It was fun the first couple of years, but then became more of a chore. In the meantime, thanks for caring enough to read this, and maybe in lieu of checking my blog you can call me and we can engage in some real communication! Yay!

Blogworthy

2008-06-28T12:36:00.002-05:00

My fantastic friend Leah has opened her very own high-end kitchen store in the Eastern Market neighborhood of D.C. I don't know anyone better equipped to start a small business, particularly in that 'hood. With her enthusiasm and desire to know everything about quality kitchen gadgets, Hill's Kitchen is sure to succeed. Read this blurb about the store in the Washington Post. Go Leah!
While it wasn't quite the same as seeing Throwing Muses in concert, watching The Breeders on stage at First Ave. May 30 was an amazing experience. Kim and Kelley seem to have gotten over any "issues" between them (most likely because they were brought on by alcohol- and drug-related behavior, and that, thankfully, seems to be over) and had a great on-stage rapport. The band sounded amazing -- crystal clear vocals and guitars. I couldn't have asked for a better show. (And to that dude who said it was the most boring concert he's seen in a long time -- get over yourself. You just don't get it.)
Martha Wainwright's new album is a blistering disappointment for me. Can someone help me understand it? I like a few songs, but overall it's way too commercial and lacks her usual intensity and unique voice. What happened?
The Zombies are coming! The Zombies are coming!

Misogyny I Won't Miss

2008-05-17T11:38:00.002-05:00

Read this simple -- but great -- article by Marie Cocco about the sexist attacks toward Clinton during the primaries and the utter lack of public outrage about this sexism.

How many times can I say I love this woman?

2008-04-25T16:11:00.001-05:00

"Rich people shouldn't write songs for real people." -- Kristin Hersh

Basia! (No, not the opera singer...)

2008-04-25T15:48:00.002-05:00

Best new album of the year (so far): Basia Bulat's Oh, My Darling. Gorgeous voice, fantastic songwriting, dynamic percussion (thanks to her bro), and the unique sound of her autoharp. I can't stop listening to it, especially "In the Night," "I Was a Daughter," and "Pilgriming Vine." Wow.

She'll be opening for DeVotchKa at First Ave. on May 7th and I'm going to do my darnedest to be there.

Katha Pollitt gets it right (again)

2008-04-24T14:39:00.003-05:00

Read Katha here.

My Fantasy Baseball Team

2008-03-27T18:19:00.003-05:00

Here's my roster. I honestly didn't mean to have a full 4/5 of my team be Red Sox players. It just happened. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

C - Jason Varitek (Bos)
1B - David Ortiz (Bos)
2B - Dustin Pedroia (Bos)
3B - Mike Lowell (Bos)
SS - Orlando Cabrera (CWS)
OF - Manny Ramirez (Bos)
OF - Jacoby Ellsbury (Bos)
OF - Michael Cuddyer (Min)
Util - JD Drew (Bos)
BN - Kazuo Matsui (Hou)
BN - Coco Crisp (Bos)

SP - Josh Beckett (Bos)
SP - Daisuke Matsuzaka (Bos)
RP - Jonathan Papelbon (Bos)
RP - Hideki Okajima (Bos)
P - Clay Buchholz (Bos)
P - Jon Lester (Bos)
P - Pat Neshek (Min)
BN - Tim Wakefield (Bos)
BN - Mike Timlin (Bos)
BN - Greg Maddux (SD)

Top 12 Albums of the Year That Ended 2 Months Ago

2008-02-28T19:33:00.005-05:00

It's taken me so long to post my Top 12 Albums of 2007 because I was looking at it as a mountainous chore; something I had to do well and in detail. Well, I've decided that's bull and that I just want my list out there. So, here are the albums. No frills, no fuss. (Also no links and no pictures. Suck it up.)

1. Arcade Fire - Neon Bible
2. Emma Pollock - Watch the Fireworks
3. Eric Clapton - Complete Clapton
4. Amy Winehouse - Back to Black
5. The Guess Who - Let's Go
6. Kristin Hersh - Learn to Sing Like a Star
7. Herbie Hancock - River: the joni letters
8. Rufus Wainwright - Release the Stars
9. Detroit Cobras - Tied & True
10. Macy Gray - Big
11. Jon Rauhouse - Steel Guitar Heart Attack
12. Imperial Teen - the hair the tv the baby & the band

Honorable Mentions: Rufus Wainwright - Rufus Does Judy at Carnegie Hall; Laura Veirs - Saltbreakers

Albums that May Have Made the List Had I Heard Them: Radiohead - In Rainbows; Kamikaze Hearts - Oneida Road; The National - Boxer

Most Disappointing: The Go! Team - Proof of Youth

Most Overrated: The Hold Steady - Boys and Girls in America (except for the song w/ Elizabeth Elmore)

Rant from the Stone Age

2008-02-02T16:33:00.000-05:00

Due to recent changes in living arrangements, I am currently without a computer and TV and have been so for a couple months. When I tell some people this fact, they seem utterly amazed. "Do you have electricity?" Yes, and running water, thank you very much.

I've also returned to my childhood habit of starting off every day reading the newspaper cover-to-cover while eating cereal. (Inevitably, the cereal runs out before the newspaper.) It's absolutely blissful. "But, how can you trust the information in the newspaper? It's so slanted!" Uh, I actually don't think it's all that bad, and it's certainly not as slanted as the liberal conspiracy theory blogs you read, thank you very much.

Actually, my home life right now is damn near perfect. After Tuesday, I will have my very own cat whose name will either be Victor or Hugo -- the verdict is still out. All I need now is a record player and I will be perfectly satisfied with the state of my apartment. Technology-less and all.

First Rufus and Judy, Now Martha and Edith

2007-12-08T13:59:00.000-05:00

So, I love Minneapolis and all, but I can't help noticing that we never get really awesome shows like Rufus doing Judy and now Martha doing Edith. At least the Rufus/Judy CD is OUT NOW! And maybe if my brother's lucky enough to get tickets, I can hear about the Martha show secondhand. Still, utterly unfair.

In other news, the Breeders have a new CD coming out on April 7, 2008! I can't imagine a better birthday present. Minneapolis just may redeem itself if the Breeders perform here as part of their album tour.

Slippershell

2007-12-07T13:33:00.000-05:00

Kristin Hersh has a new single, "Slippershell," available for download as part of the Coalition of Artists & Stake Holders (CASH) Music Project. The single is great, as is the idea for the project, at least for those folks who have a reliably speedy internet connection.

I was amused that there's a fabulous quote from none other than Orrin Hatch on CASH's homepage:

If we can find some way to [stop filesharing] without destroying their machines, we'd be interested in hearing about that. If that's the only way, then I'm all for destroying their machines.

Man, Hatch is lookin' old!

Update

2007-11-06T13:31:00.000-05:00

Red Sox won. Varitek treated. I moved. Kristin still rocks.

A Dam Fine Mess

2007-09-13T12:00:00.000-05:00

After reading Jacques Leslie's fascinating account of three individuals who have dedicated their lives to either preventing dams from being built or ensuring that only the best ones are constructed, this article in the Christian Science Monitor caught my eye.

It points out that while all eyes are on the state of the country's bridges (and rightfully so), the state of dams in the US is even more dire. Collectively, American bridges received a 'C' grade from the American Society of Civil Engineers in a 2005 survey while dams received a 'D' grade. Also:

"Since 1999, the number of 'high-hazard' dams rated 'deficient' has more than doubled, according to data from the Association of State Dam Safety Officials in Lexington, Ky...In 1999, the US had 546 such dams rated deficient. By last year, it had 1,333."

Does this mean we can expect another Johnstown Flood sometime soon? Hopefully not. But leaps forward in improving infrastructure only seem to happen post-disaster, and this time around that disaster was a bridge collapse. All y'all living next to a dam: watch out.

Farewell, Roach

2007-08-16T20:15:00.000-05:00

A fond R.I.P. to my second favorite jazz drummer.

Seattle Thug

2007-08-07T19:19:00.000-05:00

Yesterday the Seattle Mariner Moose clipped Red Sox center fielder Coco Crisp as Crisp was leaving the dugout. Crisp, who wasn't hurt, said "That was the most athletic thing I did all day." The Mariners sent over an apology, which Crisp and the Sox accepted. Apparently the Moose will not face punishment. Maybe TC should give the Moose some driving lessons?

Die Hard Superlatives

2007-07-23T16:08:00.000-05:00

I have just returned from watching the excellent fourth installment in the Die Hard series, Live Free or Die Hard. Who cares if some of the stunts were ridiculously implausible? They always are. But Bruce was his good old snarky self and Timothy Olyphant performed deliciously as the new anti-McClane villain. (Did he lose some weight for the role? He definitely looked skinnier than his Seth Bullock days.)

Anyway, in honor of this glorious movie, and this never-to-be-topped action movie franchise, here are some Die Hard superlatives. Some of these were tough choices. Comments and quibbles welcome.

Best Villain: Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman). This one really could be a three-way tie between Rickman, Jeremy Irons and Olyphant. They all had brilliant on-screen moments. But Rickman's throaty "Ho-Ho-Ho" and "When Alexander..." speech are moments of pure genius. And let's not forget his precious imitation of a sniveling American hostage when he first encounters McClane. Again, genius.

Best Buddy: Zeus Carver (Samuel L. Jackson). Sure, you have to love Al Powell (Reginald VelJohnson), but there was something dynamite about the Willis/Jackson pairing. Zeus ("As in, father of Apollo? Mt. Olympus? Don't fuck with me or I'll shove a lightning bolt up your ass? Zeus!") was by far the most equal and entertaining partner in all of McClane's adventures.

Best Yippee Ki Yay Moment: Live Free or Die Hard. Of course the original is a classic. But the build-up in 4.0 to "the moment" was fantastic. I could have sworn he was going to say it when Mai died, and when he didn't, the anticipation was heightened even further. Sheesh, then the circumstances during which he finally says it are just spectacular. (I won't give it away.)

Best Henchman: Karl (Alexander Godunov). That man just won't die!

Best Use of a Song: "Battle Hymn of the Republic" aka "When Johnny Comes Home," Die Hard With a Vengeance. The extended use of that song in a crucial sequence of events gives me goosebumps every time. Though Run-D.M.C.'s "Christmas in Hollis" is absolutely a close second, with CCR's "Fortunate Son" a somewhat distant third.

Best Agent Johnson: Special Agent Johnson (Robert Davi). Come on, he was in the Goonies!

Best Use of Dennis Franz: Die Hard 2. OK, so I'm throwing Die Hard 2 a bone here. I do really like the sequel, but it doesn't stand out in very many categories. It's the worst of the four movies, and I challenge anyone who thinks otherwise to convince me. But Dennis Franz is always good at portraying the curmudgeonly cop, and does so perfectly here.

Anyone have any others?

Peter Parker Meet Billy Goat Gruff

2007-07-12T21:25:00.000-05:00

At tonight's educational and hilarious Physics of Superheroes lecture by U of M professor James Kakalios, I learned something more shocking than Superman's weight on Krypton (3300 pounds) or why Spiderman accidentally snapped his girlfriend Gwen Stacy's neck while attempting to stop her fall from the George Washington Bridge (he stopped her fall too quickly). I learned that scientists are taking spider genes and putting them into goat eggs to enable them to produce spider silk. A goat given this gene will secrete spider silk into its milk, which then can be isolated and used to make any number of existing products hundreds of times stronger, such as tennis rackets, fishing lines, and even body armor.

So, why don't they just use spider silk instead of producing goats that are 1/70,000th spider? Because spiders are too aggressive to be easily and economically farmed. While "spidergoats" can live cheaply and peacefully amongst each other, each farmed spider would need its own little abode to avoid a lot of intraspecies murders. Basically, a spider would take up more room than a goat. I told you spiders were evil.

Notable Numeric Anniversary

2007-07-07T19:45:00.000-05:00

All the talk on this here 7/7/07 seems to be about Live Earth or the ridiculous couples who think getting married on such a day will increase their chances of staying together (newsflash: it won't). But today's date has a much cooler significance: July 7, 2007 marks the 77th anniversary of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's death (by heart attack) at the age of seventy...one.

"My life is spent in one long effort to escape from the commonplace of existence. These little problems help me to do so." --Sherlock Holmes, The Red-Headed League

Reunion

2007-06-22T22:13:00.001-05:00

(Thanks to Leah for a couple of these photos.)

Qu'est-ce qu'un cercle? Ce n'est point carré.*

2007-06-18T16:14:00.000-05:00

Lately I've been engrossed by Mount Holyoke math professor Donal O'Shea's fascinating mathematical history, The Poincaré Conjecture. While the topological discussions are a little over my head (I never did learn much about topology), the writing is accessible and the story fascinating.

For those who aren't familiar with Henri Poincaré and his famous conjecture, here is one way to state it: That every simply connected, compact three-dimensional manifold without boundary is homeomorphic to the three-dimensional sphere. The proof of this conjecture would have a lot to say about the shape of the universe, thus it has fascinated mathematicians and physicists for a century. The Clay Institute even declared it to be one of their seven Millennium Prize Problems, meaning one million dollars is on the line for whoever could offer a proof.

Though many tried and failed, it seems fairly certain that a relatively unknown Russian mathematician, Grigori Perelman, has finally proved the conjecture. Shy and reclusive, Perelman is the perfect hero for this 100-year story of alternately smugly or endearingly obsessed mathematicians. There is a two year period of review before the Clay Institute makes its prize offering official, but those in the know seem confident in Perelman's work. It's a shame Perelman seems to have quit math due to concerns about mathematical ethics and the high level of unwanted publicity he and his discovery received. Still, one Millennium Problem down, six to go.

*A play on words oft-repeated by adolescent French math nerds: What is a circle? It's not a square.

My Absolute Nightmare

2007-05-07T19:35:00.000-05:00

Doctor finds spiders in ear of boy.

Ring Them Bells

2007-04-10T21:28:00.000-05:00

OK, so Mark has set me up to deliver a vicious retort to his snarling anti-Neko post, and I can sorta oblige. But first, I must make clear that I would never classify myself as a huge Neko Case fan. Yes, I own a few of her albums. Yes, I think she has an amazingly alarming voice and can write some decent songs and even fewer amazing songs (see "I Wish I Was the Moon" or "Deep Red Bells"). But see, I'm a huge fan of people like Kristin Hersh and Martha Wainwright and have proof of my ambivalence to Neko live. In fact, my initial review of Neko live still stands, so here it is again, to serve as my review of her April 7th show:

And then Neko played. She was good. Her cover of "Buckets of Rain" was fantastic. Hearing "I Wish I Was the Moon" and "Deep Red Bells" live was worth a good portion of the ticket price. The rest of the set I could have enjoyed as happily simply hearing the notes come out of my stereo speakers. Martha Wainwright she ain't.

So, while I think Mark's critique is a little harsh, and not quite spot-on, there's a glimmer of truth hidden in his words. Still, it was a great way to spend my birthday and hearing that "inimitable" Neko voice live is always a treat.

On a different note, we had my birthday dinner at Cafe Brenda, a food destination I've been meaning to hit since I've lived in Minneapolis. Believe the hype. The atmosphere was fancier than I'm used to without being snobby, and the food was 1000x better than a pear-flavored Jelly Belly, and you know those green speckled orbs are delicious. I had the ginger glazed mock duck salad and everything about it was perfect -- from the tender, tasty mock duck to the slightly chilled capellini noodles to the uber-flavorful cherry tomatoes. After the salty edamame appetizer, the bread basket, and my entree, there was no room for dessert, but I'm sure it would have been equally delicious. Now I just have to find an excuse to go back.

Genuis? Composer? Shame...

2007-04-05T22:02:00.000-05:00

Joe Strummer... you've been through the cleansing fire of punk, only to pick up a few venerial diseases along the way. You're more of an optimist when it comes to fucked-up genius. But you can write wicked-deadly riffs and lyrics.
Take this quiz!

Post Postema

2007-03-28T22:55:00.000-05:00

While Major League Baseball has never witnessed a woman umpiring an official regular season game, it is crawling towards that historic moment courtesy of Ria Cortesio, currently a AA league umpire in the Southern League. However, the majors are paying attention, giving Cortesio the nod for the All-Star Futures Game at PNC Park on Sunday. Cortesio was excited, but stated rather humbly:

Until I work a regular-season Major League baseball game, I haven't done anything. I don't want to be a pioneer. I just want to do my job.

Of course, Cortesio isn't the first woman to ump in professional baseball. The best prospect for MLB success was Pam Postema in the 1980s, who was royally screwed out of a well deserved post in the majors. Having been denied the privilege of watching Postema call balls and strikes, we can at least read her witty, revealing memoir You've Got to Have Balls to Make It in This League.

Some day it'll happen for real. And, Jesus Christ, why not? As Cubs star Derrek Lee says:

It's awesome. I think it's about time. Female eyes are as good as male eyes. Why can't they be umpires?

The Stuff That Dreams Are (Still) Made Of

2007-02-20T16:28:00.000-05:00

In a not-so-surprising imitation of Dashiell Hammett's novel and the classic Bogart flick, someone has stolen a replica of the Maltese Falcon statue from a restaurant that Hammett used to frequent during his writing days. The restaurant's owner is offering a $25,000 reward for its safe return. If I owned something with Elisha Cook Jr.'s autograph on it and it were stolen, I'd be pretty peeved too.

Top 14 Albums of 2006

2007-01-23T22:42:00.000-05:00

I'm probably breaking a few rules of end-of-the-year listmaking: I'm a little late for the end of the year; I'm including a movie soundtrack, an EP, a Christmas album, and a posthumously released album of outtakes and alternate versions; and my list contains the very round number of 14 albums. I guess it's true that we asymptotes just barely toe the line. Or are just slightly behind the curve. Or *insert dorky math joke here*.

1. The Gossip – Standing in the Way of Control. The title track blows my mind every freakin' time I hear it. "Yr Mangled Heart," "Keeping You Alive" and "Listen Up!" -- I need to dance...I need to dance...I need to dance. Wait, I thought I hated disco? Heck, if I were alive and living in Chicago, I would have participated in Disco Demolition Night. Only Beth and Hannah could get me to convert. P.S. To whom it concerns, I want "Coal to Diamonds" played at my memorial service. Oh, and I want to be cremated.

2. Tom Waits – Orphans. This thing's a beast (three monstrous discs!), and I haven't quite digested it all yet. But here's what I know: Waits makes a better Elvis than Elvis ("Lie to Me"); is a serviceable Shane MacGowan ("Bottom of the World"); cooks up highly effective anti-depressants ("Sea of Love" and the Ramones cover "The Return of Jackie and Judy") and depressants ("Rains on Me"); and far surpasses Bush in his politics ("Road to Peace" – one of the collection's very best). And all that just from the first disc. I need a nap.

3. Erase Errata – Nightlife. This album has steadily grown on me since I saw them live. "Aim the satellite down from a penthouse bubble / Cause we're afraid of being robbed / Or catching something / While you're too broke to not commit a crime / Your federal government knows that this is true." Maybe they don't need Sara after all.

4. Camera Obscura – Let's Get Out of This Country. This Scottish outfit has quietly crept onto my short list of favorite bands. With stunningly beautiful vocals and alternately heartbreaking and uplifting lyrics, LGOOTC continues their stream of classic albums. From "Dory Previn": "Fed up with girls in pretty dresses / And boys who want to teach them a lesson." From "The False Contender": "I once had a love / That soon had enough / Cause he was a false contender." From "Country Mile:" "The singer in the band made me want to cry." Yup.

5. Morrissey – Ringleader of the Tormentors. The popular tagline on this one seemed to be Morrissey + Sex = Tasty Music. Is the equation really that simple? I doubt it, seeing as how he's created more than a few excellent tunes while celibate and melancholy. His new happiness may be responsible for this record's certain glow, if you will, but let's not give too much credit to the power of love (or of the "explosive kegs" between his legs). Morrissey can approach mediocrity and excellence at any given time – luckily for us, with Ringleader he's definitely aiming for the latter.

6. Leonard Cohen I'm Your Man Motion Picture Soundtrack. Let me tell you, Bono should be banned from music. If he did not appear on this album, it would have shot up my list to, like, number five. But his 40-second "performance" on the very last track is the definition of the word "travesty." So, stop the CD before you hit track 16 and you'll be okay. Especially note Martha Wainwright's contributions: "Tower of Song" and "The Traitor." And Perla Batalla's "Bird on a Wire." Goddamn. Teddy Thompson also puts in an unexpectedly nice turn on "Tonight Will Be Fine." Mark just loves Nick Cave's "I'm Your Man." (That's a big fat lie.) Antony brings down the house on "If It Be Your Will." And who doesn't want to hear Rufus do a calypso "Everybody Knows" or sing about receiving head on an unmade bed?

7. Tanya Donelly – This Hungry Life. I kinda felt bad when I didn't like Donelly's Whiskey Tango Ghosts. I mean, I despised it. Which, given how much I love everything else Donelly has ever touched, seemed almost impossible. Or definitive evidence of my evil nature. So I was really, really ecstatic when I heard the opening chords of the first track (an utterly perfect song called "New England") and then the rest of This Hungry Life's brilliance (including a surprising cover of George Harrison's "Long Long Long"). The Earth returned to spinning on its axis, I was no longer an evil person, and I could excuse Whiskey as a bizarre anomaly in Donelly's otherwise spotless track record.

8. The Exploding Hearts – Shattered. The liner notes for this album are a heartfelt tribute to a band that's one of the saddest rock n roll stories from the past few years. Obviously, I didn't know any of the three band members who died in that July 2003 car crash, so I can't really join in the mourning of them personally. But I can mourn the lost music that these boys (yes, they were just boys) would have provided for decades to come. They were master power pop songwriters and energetic and skilled performers. This collection of previously unreleased songs, early singles, and alternate takes is a sparkling glimpse into their genius.

9. The Coup – Pick a Bigger Weapon. It must be hard to write and perform as many politically-inspired songs as The Coup without it becoming stale. Their secret must be that while they care about serious things, they also have a lot of fun. As Mark noted, "Laugh/Love/Fuck" is a standout track. It's also a brilliant prescription for anyone saddened by the state of the country.

10. Bob Dylan – Modern Times. This is far from Dylan's best album, but even his lesser material is better than most of what's produced these days. "Rollin' and Tumblin'" is a body-shaker, "Beyond the Horizon" and "Nettie Moore" are pretty sweet, and "Spirit on the Water" is another good memorial service candidate. So the man makes my Top 14 of 2006 and every album he ever makes will continue to make this list until someone can prove to me that he doesn't deserve to be here. Good luck.

11. 50 Foot Wave – Free Music. What would a Top 14 Albums list be without a Kristin Hersh appearance? Sure, it's only five songs long. Sure, I couldn't actually get it for free because I don't have the computer technology. But it's still Kristin Hersh and still 50 Foot Wave, and this EP delivers. 'Specially on "Pretty Ugly" and "The Fuchsia Wall."

12. Aimee Mann – One More Drifter in the Snow. Though I love Christmas music, I really can't listen to it year-round, and that's the only reason this album was relegated to the bottom three. "You're a Mean One Mr. Grinch" (featuring Grant Lee Phillips) is dead on and her spare "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" is one of the best versions I've heard. Plus, Mark predicts that "Whatever Happened to Christmas" will join the ranks of Christmas standards – and he's never wrong about Christmas music.

13. Justin Timberlake – Futuresex/Lovesounds. I get enough crap from my co-workers for having a past that includes loving NKOTB, so I couldn't put JT any higher on this list. But he deserves to be on it. "My Love" makes me want to sing. "Sexyback" makes me want to dance. And "Futuresex/Lovesound" makes me want to fu-, um, dance. Yeah, dance. I'm psyched to be seeing him live this Saturday.

14. Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Show Your Bones. A slight disappointment, this record just barely scraped it's way into the Top 14. Only after repeated listens did certain songs grow on me, including "Gold Lion," "Phenomena," and "Honeybear." And "Dudley" is one of their best songs ever. Still, better luck next time.

So, it was a decent year. By the way, I'm not planning on dying any time soon, but watching Six Feet Under makes me want to have my post-death wishes known. So, here they are: cremation, ashes scattered off the coast of Rockport, MA (not ME), and good music played at my memorial service. Simple enough, don't you think?

Wilbury Twist

2006-12-23T22:10:00.000-05:00

To bide some time until I can post my Top Albums of 2006, I've added Wilbury Twist to my blogroll. Yes, it is a site dedicated to the Traveling Wilburys! Apparently, there's going to be some re-mastering of the albums as well as the release of some never-before-heard tracks. Nothing will ever touch "Tweeter and the Monkeyman," but it's still exciting. (Via an email from Mark.)

All That Philip Pullman Allows

2006-12-08T23:56:00.000-05:00

I've never been one to shy away from melodrama -- on screen, that is; I'd hate to live within one myself. So I've kept a little space in my brain for the name "Douglas Sirk" ever since a college media studies professor (shout out to Carol!) hailed him as the King of the genre. Color saturation, upper middle class romance, high society, the whole shebang. Not until tonight's screening of All That Heaven Allows, however, had I actually witnessed the beauty of a Sirk movie.

Jane Wyman and Rock Hudson are a dynamite couple on screen, sure. And the gist of the story is one I can personally relate to -- the abandonment of a socially sanctioned path for one less sophisticated but more personally fulfilling. But the cinematography is the true star of the film. The colors are absolutely stunning, the subtle tricks of the camera cry out for film students everywhere to take note, and the settings spark an envy to live in a wintry old mill that you never knew you had (at least that's how it worked for me). Never has pheasant hunting in the snow looked more inviting. Definitely a must see.

P.S. Everyone should go out and read Philip Pullman's "His Dark Materials" trilogy. The man is a genius.

Ain't Misbehavin'

2006-11-14T14:00:00.000-05:00

Make me laugh.

Why Not Slide?

2006-10-10T14:20:00.000-05:00

Thanks to my bro for pointing me to this Guardian article about Carsten Höller's slides that are currently being enjoyed by folks of all ages in Tate Modern's Turbine Hall. While museum visitors may view these slides as a novelty, Höller sees them as a "serious architectural proposition." And why not? Slides would make office jobs more exciting and fun-filled; who doesn't want to see the boss in a 3-piece suit sliding on his ass to meet the Board? And what mall wouldn't benefit from the installation of slides? They'd be more efficient than escalators or elevators, that's for sure. And quite attractive, as Höller's Tate Modern example shows. So, how about it? Who wants to join the newly established Minnesotans for a Swifter Society?

Have You Pooped Yet?

2006-10-02T18:02:00.000-05:00

That was one of the more interesting signs I encountered on my 26.2 mile journey through Minneapolis and St. Paul during yesterday's Twin Cities Marathon. Thankfully, I hadn't yet pooped, nor did I have to throughout my entire 5 hour, 23 minute, 29 second run. (Thank you, bowels.) The whole experience was simultaneously wonderful and hellish and I couldn't write a coherent or complete post about it if I tried. But, here are the most important anecdotes and observations from my first (and perhaps last) marathon:

Waiting for the bus at 6:40 a.m. with my white marathon sweats bag, I was confronted by an eager beaver of a young lad who asked if the 4 bus was due soon. I saw his identifying sweats bag and responded that it should be arriving in a few minutes. We then bonded over being first timers and not getting much sleep the night before. While he's regaling me with tales of a silly dream he had (something about a friend damaging his parents' car, which is an Acura in the dream, but they have a mini-van in real life, so it was like, so ridiculous), a nice couple pulled up to the curb and offered us a ride to the Metrodome. We accepted. Shout out to the nice couple.
The view of downtown Minneapolis from the starting gate in the early morning hour was quite astounding.
There were so many spectators and volunteers along the way to help the runners along. From cheering to handing out water and lube (now what was that for?) to awarding medals and finisher shirts to blasting music on their front lawns, they all rocked. Truly awesome.
I missed seeing Mark (and he missed seeing me) all three times that it was possible: at Lake of the Isles, Minnehaha Falls, and when I crossed the finish line. Them's the breaks. But I'll have you know he was a great post-marathon help once we did meet up at the State Capitol, supplying tissues, water, energy bars, bus fare, and a much needed hug. And what a sport to traipse all around the city on public transportation for a 5 second glimpse of little old me gasping for breath.
While some runners write their names on their shirts so spectators can yell out, "Go Stan!," my identifying characteristic turned out to be my trusty Red Sox hat. Especially during Twins playoff fever it was a risky fashion decision, but I appreciated all the personalized cheers -- even the nasty ones: Go Boston! Yay Red Sox! Yankees Rule! Wait Till Next Year! Red Sox Suck! The "Wait Till Next Year" guy will forever be in my debt for making me laugh when I felt like crying.
I heard that this course was supposed to be flat, but no one tells you that the last 5.5 miles are graded inclines! Seriously, most of the course in St. Paul was like one long hill. All along Summit Ave. spectators would yell, "Just wait till you get to the top of the hill," but not one of them informed me that the top of the hill was the 26th mile.
By the 16th mile, I was getting doubtful of my ability to finish. This was also about the time that I decided it would be my last marathon. Finally, though, I reached the 21st mile and realized I could walk the rest of the race and still finish within the 6 hour time limit. I felt much better after that realization and did walk quite a bit of the last 5 miles. And reconsidered my anti-marathon stance.
And then I reached the top of the hill! The view was spectacular and I could see the finish line and was inspired by my accomplishment to start running again so I could cross it on a strong note. (OK, like many of the runners out there, I didn't want any of the spectators at the finish line to know that I had been walking the last 5 miles. That's really why I ran to the finish.)
Like the dork that I am, I made an ass of myself when I saw Sven Sundgaard (of KARE 11 Weather fame) in the finish area. I was so giddy about having made it the whole way that I sauntered up to him with a goofy grin and said, "Thanks for the great weather!" Hyuck, hyuck. He gracefully chuckled and said, "You're welcome." Then I made my exit. Let me tell you, that little Sven is built. You would never guess he had all those muscles under those drab suits. Or that he was only 25! Check out Mr. Sundgaard's results here.
And then it was over. I gathered up my medal, finisher shirt, and sweats bag and met Mark under the 'D' sign in the family waiting area. We boarded the bus home and I hobbled around the rest of the day like an old woman. Actually, I'm still hobbling around. But it was worth it. And maybe I'll do it again -- once I forget how much Mile 17 sucked.

1971 World Series, Game 3

2006-09-12T15:03:00.000-05:00

Pirates vs. Orioles, bottom of the seventh, the Orioles' Mike Cuellar blushing on the mound after Roberto Clemente forced an errant throw to first with his high comebacker and trademark sprint down to first:

Cuellar, flustered, now walked Willie Stargell on four pitches, bringing up first baseman Bob Robertson with runners on first and second. Robertson to that point was hitless in the series and had lined out and struck out twice in three previous at-bats against Cuellar. He took the first pitch for a ball, then fouled off the next. From the Pirates dugout, Danny Murtaugh noticed that Brooks Robinson was cheating by two or three steps, as he had said he would against the big right-handed pull hitter, playing deep and close to the line. Murtaugh gestured to third-base coach Frank Oceak, who flashed a sign down to the plate. Robertson gave no recognition that he received the sign, so Oceak went through the motions again. From second base, Clemente sensed the confusion and raised his hands over his head, attempting to call time. But it was too late; Cuellar was in his windup. In came a screwball, a few inches outside, and out it went, soaring into the seats in right center. Only as Robertson touched home plate and Stargell congratulated him with the words "That's the way to bunt the ball!" did he realize what he had done. "Guess I missed a sign," he said sheepishly when he reached the dugout. "Possibly," responded Murtaugh, smiling.

Excerpt from David Maraniss' excellent biography of Clemente, Clemente, which is really more a book of baseball and social history than a strict bio. After reading this book, I now understand why my R.I. born and bred uncle is such a huge Pirates fan.

Mama Bird

2006-09-10T19:08:00.000-05:00

I hate Danceteria. Due to First Ave.'s unfortunate 'rhea curfew, Thursday night's Erase Errata / The Gossip show felt hurried and unnecessarily abbreviated. While openers Mika Miko would have benefited from a shorter set, Erase Errata and The Gossip were forced off the stage to please the nicely dressed Danceteria masses after all-too-brief sets.

I've definitely heard Erase Errata sound better – on their first two studio albums. Their performance certainly exhibited what happens when a pivotal band member (whose guitar pretty much defined their sound for me) leaves to pursue other opportunities. Still, I enjoyed the original band's remnants and the resulting sound enough to want to seek out their new album. Plus, I dug their style – were they going for '80s trailer park?

Now, on to Beth Ditto. Having eaten only a half hour before strutting her stuff for the eager crowd, Ditto suffered from recurring regurgitation throughout the set ("I've vomited three times already") – but dutifully re-swallowed so she could keep on singing for us. The other two band members (Brace Paine and Hannah Blilie) were also energetic and entertaining. And, Mark's right, Hannah's probably the hottest drummer around.

Dicks for Dames

2006-08-21T19:53:00.000-05:00

A recent Christian Science Monitor article picks up on a trend that has me excited, but also a little worried. It notes the remarkable increase in the number of women mystery writers (good thing), but especially focuses on those whose detectives are "not-so-hardboiled" (bad thing). The article's overall message is that women don't want to read that nasty, crude hardboiled stuff (the genius of Hammett, Chandler, and Cain be damned). Instead, most new mystery series written for women are known, for real, as "cozies" or "Malice Domestic" and feature accidental sleuths: hotel owners, cooks, carpenters, knitters, etc., who repeatedly find themselves in situations just begging for their amateur detective skills.

I agree with a former mystery store owner who "criticizes some female authors for their 'trivialization' of women. This includes talking down to them and having them deal with less-serious problems." Sure, some women will enjoy the Jessica Fletcher style mystery, but many more will appreciate a complex, serious mystery -- though perhaps with a little less misogyny than is found in your classic hardboiled detective story.

According to the article, women crime writers are better at developing characters, featuring relationships, and capturing "real life problems" than men writers. Says author Elaine Viets,

The hard-boiled male is often the critical darling. But I believe that the hard-boiled thriller is old-fashioned now. The really difficult books are the books about everyday relationships, about maintaining a job, maintaining a family. It's easy to make a thriller interesting. It's much harder to keep people interested in ordinary life, yet women have that skill to keep people reading for 300 pages. Women don't always write grand books, big thrillers. But they do the Jane Austen kind of book - the book about society.

I'm all for character development, but if that entails touchy-feely details about why a character must visit her great-aunt every Sunday, I'd rather it be left out. And relationships? Please. Just set up the mystery and solve it -- no need for extended forays into the character's lovelife (though an occasional mention is acceptable: Cara Black, Dana Stabenow, and Sara Paretsky, for example, all do it well). Plus, is there really anything worse than comparing contemporary women mystery writers to Jane Austen?

Still, I guess I'm happy that so many women crime writers are doing well. I just wish more of them featured strong, serious women who solve real mysteries on purpose, not because a dead body happens to fall into their cozy domestic laps. I also wish their ranks didn't include those who write "chick-lit mysteries," in which "Prada-type girls who happen to solve mysteries when they're not working in their wonderful Manhattan jobs." Ugh.

[For local T.C. folks, an added bonus: the article includes a few quotes from a co-owner of my favorite mystery shop, Once Upon a Crime.]

Five Weird Opinions

2006-07-25T17:21:00.000-05:00

Inspired by Mark's Five Weird Opinions, which were inspired by Nate's Five Weird Opinions, here are my very own:

The Beatles < Herman's Hermits. Yeah, I went there. If we're using Nate's gut feeling of "whose records would you rather listen to," there's no contest for me. Of course I understand the Beatles' "importance" to rock history, but their albums just don't appeal to me. Their early pop records rate higher than the Beach Boys, sure, but it's still pop. Maybe I've heard the songs too many times to enjoy them, I don't know. Regardless, the humor ("Mrs. Brown, You've Got a Lovely Daughter," "I'm Henry the VIII, I Am,") and potential creepiness ("Leaning on a Lamp Post") of Peter Noone and his pals gets me every time and has sealed their number 1 slot in my list of favorite British Invasion groups.

The Spaghetti Incident? is my favorite Guns N' Roses album. Maybe that's not saying much about the band, seeing as how it's an album of covers and all, but I find myself holding up this album as a highlight of their career more than any other when I find myself embroiled in Def Leppard vs. GN'R debates. (I mean, really, is there any contest?) There's no doubt in my mind that their only non-punk cover on the album -- the Skyliners' "Since I Don't Have You" -- is one of the top three cover songs ever. Other highlights are The Damned's "New Rose," the UK Subs' "Down on the Farm," and their ever-so-sad version of Johnny Thunders' "You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory." I'm not so obsessive a GN'R fan that I believe every one of their songs is brilliant -- every one of their original albums has its own flaws. Which is perhaps why The Spaghetti Incident? is so incredible - each song is worth multiple listens.

Lush were perfectly average. I stumbled across Lush in the mid-90s, thanks to WBRU over-playing their single "Ladykillers" and then sponsoring a free concert at Waterplace Park in Providence. I own all of their studio albums (plus a single or two), but I'll be damned if I can tell one from the other (with the notable exception of Lovelife, which I played until it shattered during my sophomore and junior years of high school). It's straight-up shoegazer music that makes for more than adequate mellow background noise, but rarely does a single track grab you and force you to listen. Miki Berenyi and Emma Anderson prove that beautiful, harmonizing vocals can be too much of a good thing.

Empire Burlesque is one of Bob Dylan's three best albums (and album covers). After a number of recording sessions that saw musicians entering and exiting multiple studios, Dylan ended up with a classic album, critics and Billboard charts be damned. "Tight Connection to My Heart" (featuring Sly & Robbie) is as sing-able as any song from Blood on the Tracks. "Seeing the Real You At Last" and "I'll Remember You" are two more classics and the closing track "Dark Eyes" is pure Dylan genius. Most of you probably have never heard this album - I encourage you to do so right now. The '80s cover art is sooo hot.

Radiohead's OK Computer is brilliant. No, you haven't taken a time machine back to 1997, a year when this wasn't so weird an opinion. But lately it seems like no one's a fan of Radiohead anymore and people are repulsed by the very idea of listening to OK Computer. When did this about-face happen? I'll leave that question to the pop culture professionals. All I know is that OK Computer is one of the most brilliant albums I own. (It also spawned at least one of the best music videos ever created, Paranoid Android.) Honestly, it's easier for me to pick out tracks that are low-lights rather than highlights (I'm talking to you, "Fitter Happier"). I don't expect people with anti-Radiohead biases to shift their opinions anytime soon. I'm perfectly content with the knowledge that I'm right on this one.

Three Places My Wandering Spirit Will Be In Attendance This Summer (Be Sure to Say Hello)

2006-06-29T11:00:00.000-05:00

Sure, it's the NOW Conference and all, but I'm in full support of honoring Ani DiFranco with a "Woman of Courage" award. Along with my Mom, Ani's probably responsible for my earliest feminist tingles.
Either of the two Throwing Muses shows in August -- in Boston on the 11th and New York on the 12th. 50 Foot Wave is opening, so you know what that means: a double dose of Kristin Hersh. My wandering spirit's especially excited about that prospect.
The Bastille Day Celebration in Paris. I've always wanted to attend, and what better occasion than the 217th anniversary.

Out of the Woods

2006-06-28T22:02:00.000-05:00

I hate computers.

And I hate that Sleater-Kinney has posted this message on their website.
But at least the web is home to this list of problems solved by MacGyver and this article by Barbara Ehrenreich.
And Herman's Hermits are coming to A Taste of Minnesota and Peter Noone has the bluest eyes.
And the Red Sox have won 11 in a row and are 3.5 games ahead of the Yankees.
But then again I was just asked for $4 by two women from Dallas trying to get to St. Paul and I didn't give it to them because they seemed drunk and the bus fare is only $3 and why didn't they know that and plus they took a really long time getting around to asking for the $4. All I could muster was a smile and a "Have a nice night."

I hate computers. (This had another ending.)

I Can Hear the Bones Creak

2006-05-31T21:56:00.000-05:00

Honestly, I wasn't sure what to expect going into The Fall's show at the Varsity Theater Monday night. Having only started listening to them a couple years ago, and having been alternately regaled and warned about their live shows, I was prepared to be any of the following: underwhelmed, turned off, smitten by Mark E. Smith's seemingly irresistable sex appeal, or smushed by overly aggressive dancers. As it turned out, none of those four possibilities unfolded -- instead, I was amused, entertained, energized, and more than a little dance-happy, as my Fall-lovin' roommate Mark points out in his review.

Backed by his wife and three adorable young'uns, Smith ambled out on stage for the first song looking like a cross between a mini-Lurch and an 80-year-old man attending his wife's funeral. But let me tell you, he designed a perfect set list for a new (albeit well-informed) listener. The trio of "Theme from Sparta FC," "Mountain Energei," and "Wrong Place, Right Time" had me exercising my vocal chords and Achilles tendons. When the official set ended with "I Can Hear the Grass Grow," it felt like the certain high point of the night -- until the band launched into "Mr. Pharmacist" during the first encore. Yipes. The red shiver of excitement that coursed through the crowd was nearly visible. Sure, I didn't know either of the two songs in the second encore, but by that point it didn't matter since I was, well, not smitten, but certainly charmed by Mr. Smith. He and the kids managed to pull off a damn fine performance with no discernible arse-like behavior. One of my all-time favorite gigs. (And not just cause it was so fun watching Mark's excitement grow as the concert approached...though that was pretty happy-making too.)

P.S. Despite Mark's assertion, M.E.S. most definitely was not sporting a soul patch.

Return of Arkanoid

2006-05-22T21:10:00.000-05:00

Let's play catch-up:

While the recent Drive-By Truckers show was pretty entertaining (particularly that humble lyrical genius Mike Cooley), the most exciting thing that happened all night was discovering that First Ave has Arkanoid! I played two disappointing games before walking off wistfully, remembering my brick-conquering days of yore.

As Mark reported earlier, I am extremely pleased that the interior of the new Central Libe does not take after the rather underwhelming exterior of the building. The pseudo-industrial look manages to be both utilitarian and homey, what with the cool niches and all: a fireplace, Teen Central, piano rooms and a kids section that welcomes you with mechanical fireflies (or were they dragonflies?). Not to mention the overwhelmingly magnificent mystery section, situated conveniently next to the DVDs -- where I spotted The Umbrellas of Cherbourg only to have it snatched from under my nose (sort of). Anyway, big thumbs up for the opening event and the building itself.

Thanks to the above library trip, I've been scarfing down books like they were chocolate covered pretzels. Especially graphic novels: Persepolis and Persepolis 2 were eloquent, touching memoirs of Marjane Satrapi's youth and adolescence in Iran and as an Iranian in Austria; Box Office Poison is pure addictive soap operatic trash, but I love it. Next on my list: Cara Black's second Aimée Leduc mystery, Murder in Belleville.

My Mom has a blog! She's so cool.

She Is Still Woman

2006-05-04T10:09:00.000-05:00

Helen Reddy was giving an interview this morning as part of publicity for her new autobiography. Asked during the interview about the current state of feminism in America, Reddy stated she was a little concerned with how "everything" was going right now. Code for: Bush and his cronies suck.

Demain, dès l'aube

2006-04-30T23:35:00.000-05:00

Demain, dès l'aube, à l'heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m'attends.
J'irai par la forêt, j'irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.

Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.

Je ne regarderai ni l'or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur,
Et, quand j'arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur.

--Victor Hugo

Go with the Flow

2006-04-23T21:32:00.000-05:00

Notoriously eco-friendly company Seventh Generation will send a pack of their tampons or pads to a women's shelter in your state for every virtual donation made at their website, TamPontification. Since menstrual products can cost women an estimated $40-$70 annually (by my rough calculations), this campaign could help out a lot of poor women who don't have that kind of cash to spare each month. [Thanks to the Women's Press for publicizing it.]

[Cross-posted at New Patriot.]

Vena Cava

2006-04-18T17:47:00.000-05:00

I finally can listen to 50 Foot Wave's "Free Music" EP -- though I paid $5 to do it. (Very worthwhile, mind you.) If you have the computer means, you too can have the pleasure of listening to it here -- for free, as intended.

A fellow Carl is having a fundraiser through which you can decide his next hairstyle. Krusty the Clown? Gallagher? Bald? You decide. Believe me, this guy can pull any of 'em off. He's already raised over $3000 for various charities. You have about an hour left to cast your vote at the Hair Project.

4-1:1-4; ?:Damon

2006-04-09T16:38:00.000-05:00

Yes, the correct answer is Crisp. May 1st here we come.

For a more entertaining recap of the Sox's first few games, check out Soxaholix.

P.S. I recently had a birthday, along with all these fine folks. Manuel!

"She kinda reminds me of Kristin Hersh..."

2006-03-30T11:21:00.000-05:00

"...You know...from Throwing Muses?"

So declared the 20-something music nerd standing next to me at the Martha Wainwright / Neko Case show at First Ave. last night to his musically ignorant friends. His comparison piqued my interest -- mainly because I've never made the connection myself and they're two of my favorite artists. Sure, they both know their way around the ol' guitar strings, have simultaneously sultry and snarling voices, and are, well, goddam hot women. But to me the comparison ends there. Their songwriting styles are pretty dissimilar, as are their vibes on stage. Oh well, it was an interesting comment to kick off a semi-interesting musical night.

Poor Martha. Starting off her career playing second fiddle to her family, and now playing second fiddle to Neko Case. Martha even admitted as much: "These are not my fans; these are Neko's fans. These are who I want my fans to be." While I can confirm that the audience last night was mostly comprised of Nekophiles, I did notice a few other Martha diehards (and many instant converts). Of course, opening with "Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole" is an easy way to win over a crowd, but they did stick with her through the entire set of searing vocals, stridant dance moves, and witty asides. (Apparently she pulled her cousin Sylvain out of college to pawn her merch. Her aunt is not happy.)

Yes, I'm a fan. But seeing her for the second time in a larger venue further convinced me of her brilliance. I had to bite my bottom lip repeatedly to keep my smile from leaping off my face. She has talent and charisma and thank god I could expend my post-set energy buying a t-shirt and EP and talking to her cousin.

Oh yeah. And then Neko played. She was good. Her cover of "Buckets of Rain" was fantastic. Hearing "I Wish I Was the Moon" and "Deep Red Bells" live was worth a good portion of the ticket price. The rest of the set I could have enjoyed as happily simply hearing the notes come out of my stereo speakers. Martha Wainwright she ain't.

Splish Splash, I Was Designing A Structure

2006-03-27T22:01:00.000-05:00

Thanks to Ivars Peterson's The Mathematical Tourist, I have another mad scientist to lift up to one of my architectural pedestals: Frei Otto. The man uses the properties of soap bubbles to help him design mathematically beautiful structures, including the roofs of several Olympic buildings in Munich and the new train station in Stuttgart (soap model above). Almost as cool is soap film's simple solution to Steiner's four-cities problem.

No Whammy, No Whammy

2006-03-14T22:22:00.000-05:00

Just last night I was remembering my childhood obsession with cheesey game shows and their hosts: Chuck Woolery on Scrabble and Love Connection, Wink Martindale on Bumper Stumpers and Tic Tac Dough, and the recently departed Peter Tomarken on Press Your Luck. Tomarken was never my favorite host -- I think Woolery's smarmy good looks and fashionable dress won me over at an impressionable age -- but he was certainly adequate and definitely better than that sad-sack Ray Combs. Plus, Tomarken and his wife died doing charitable work for Angel Flight, a non-profit that provides air transportation to needy medical patients. Not quite on par with Roberto Clemente, but Tomarken'll be remembered fondly.

As my exploration of the game show tragedy chain continued, I also ran across Michael Larson, the most successful Press Your Luck contestant of all time. Larson studied the patterns of lights on the PYL board and ended up winning over $100,000. While Larson managed to stay Whammy-free for an incredibly long time, his luck ended on that soundstage. In the years following his appearance, he lost $50,000 to an unknown thief, got a divorce, and died of throat cancer while running from the S.E.C.

Now I'm just biding my time until Ken Jennings gets busted for soliciting a prostitute and then dies in jail from dehydration.

Ordered

2006-03-07T12:02:00.000-05:00

I was born too late in the game to have seen this show at Club Babyhead in Providence in 1992. Babyhead closed in 1997, and to this day it remains a mystical venue that was always just out of my reach. Now pretty girls and boys grind on each other in the same space -- aptly called Club Hell -- where the likes of Throwing Muses, Husker Du, Lush, and The Breeders once graced the stage. What hath Cianci wrought?

Me and Kurt

2006-03-06T00:06:00.000-05:00

Sarah Doire --

[adjective]:

Smells like teen spirit

'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

My New Home

2006-03-02T12:18:00.000-05:00

Hey! Check me out at New Patriot, where I've finally joined the ranks of Minnesotans who worship black and white pictures of women from the 19th century. I even consummated the relationship by submitting my first post.

Great Books?

2006-02-21T11:22:00.000-05:00

Minnesota Women's Press has released its "2005 Great Books" list -- voted upon by women readers who participate in various MWP reading groups. Despite my recent increase in pleasure reading, I have to report that I've read not a one of these books. And given the descriptions (many of which give off the woman-on-a-search-for-self-journey vibe), I'm not sure I want to. There are a few that I may give a shot: Haweswater by Sarah Hall and Ursula K. Le Guin's The Telling, and...oh wait, that's it.

I know women are writing books that interest me: Nevada Barr, Sara Paretsky, Dana Stabenow, Dorothy Hughes, Ann Bannon, Ariel Schrag (!)...where are they on the list? Do mysteries and graphic novels not count as books?

Watson & Crick on Radical Feminism

2006-02-19T19:29:00.000-05:00

In the latest Bitch issue, there's a fascinating interview with history-minded feminist Vivian Gornick, who offers this excellent answer to a rather broad and ridiculous question:

Q: In the 1990 New York Times Magazine article I mentioned earlier, you wrote, "Radical feminism is not wanted this year, perhaps not this decade." What do you think a contemporary radical feminism would look like, and how might it be galvanized?

A: The thing is, what radical feminism did in our time was put the terms in place. A good analogy would be when DNA was discovered by Crick and Watson. In the 1980s, I did a book on women and science, and I met many biologists, women and men alike, who all said that DNA was the great, astonishing, explosive discovery. They said, after that, it was all just putting the markers in place - the map was there, all they were doing was filling in the map. For some people, that was a way of explaining that they felt cheated at not being able to have won the Nobel Prize for themselves for this; some people felt demoralized; some people felt that now the drones would take over. And other people understood that if you kept on working hard, without the glamour of knowing you could win a Nobel Prize for figuring out DNA, you would make significant discoveries. And that, of course, is exactly what has happened in the past 25 years: All kinds of things have been [done] in science that they never dreamed of doing when they said, "Oh, it's all been discovered already."

That's the only thing I can offer you [laughs], that analogy. What I really mean is, keep on pressing thought to its deepest conclusion. Whatever insight anybody has into how women's rights somehow exemplify the human condition, existentially and politically and culturally, to that extent you do good work and you live a good life. Who knows what will be the next contribution that opens up another few hundered people to deeper thought about all this? That's my idea of radical feminism: Just think as deeply as you can about the usage that inequality for women has been put to. There are reasons for all the anxiety [about feminsim], and there are interesting questions to ask: Why is there such resistance? Why is it so unwanted by so many, men and women alike? Why is it so feared? What's really behind it?

Those are the things that Stanton turned to toward the end of her life when she got bored with suffrage [laughs], like we get bored with abortion.

Dying of Thirst

2006-02-07T19:14:00.000-05:00

This is some pretty shitty stuff.

Last week, Col. Janis Karpinski told a panel of judges at the Commission of Inquiry for Crimes against Humanity Committed by the Bush Administration in New York that several women had died of dehydration because they refused to drink liquids late in the day. They were afraid of being assaulted or even raped by male soldiers if they had to use the women's latrine after dark.

The latrine for female soldiers at Camp Victory wasn't located near their barracks, so they had to go outside if they needed to use the bathroom. "There were no lights near any of their facilities, so women were doubly easy targets in the dark of the night," Karpinski told retired US Army Col. David Hackworth in a September 2004 interview. It was there that male soldiers assaulted and raped women soldiers. So the women took matters into their own hands. They didn't drink in the late afternoon so they wouldn't have to urinate at night. They didn't get raped. But some died of dehydration in the desert heat, Karpinski said.

Yeah, Karpinski is the former commander of Abu Ghraib, but why would she lie about this? Or about the lack of support for women soldiers reporting sexual assaults?

"It was out of control," Karpinski told a group of students at Thomas Jefferson School of Law last October. There was an 800 number women could use to report sexual assaults. But no one had a phone, she added. And no one answered that number, which was based in the United States. Any woman who successfully connected to it would get a recording. Even after more than 83 incidents were reported during a six-month period in Iraq and Kuwait, the 24-hour rape hot line was still answered by a machine that told callers to leave a message.

Murder by dehydration, maybe that's their game, hmm?* Seriously, this is messed up. Women afraid to drink water in the desert so they don't have to pee in the middle of the night and face rape from their peers? Ain't the military wonderful?

[*Frivolous M.B.D. reference.]

Top 10 Reasons Why George W. Bush is Responsible for My Drunken State

2006-01-31T22:26:00.000-05:00

10. He immediately invoked a true American hero, Coretta Scott King.

9. He severely altered my understanding of world geography -- is the world really only composed of the United States and the Middle East?

8. I'm extremely nervous now that terrorists like bin Laden may "seize power in Iraq and use it as a safe haven to launch attacks against America and the world" or "murder children in Beslan." Boy, that bin Laden sure gets around!

7. I have to re-think my whole life philosophy, as I always thought there was peace and honor in retreat.

6. I am wracking my brain trying to identify the "appropriate members of Congress."

5. He made me fucking scared about U.S. dependency on natural resources from other countries, especially from the Middle East. But, see, I thought in 2003 our fair nation was responsible for 20 percent of the world's production of natural gas. I'd tell you the most current figures for crude oil too, but that page seems to be conveniently absent from the online PDF version of the Statistical Abstract. You'll have to be satisfied with the 2000 figure, when the U.S. was third in the world in crude oil production.

4. I hadn't realized we were only allowing immigrants into the U.S. to take shitty jobs that "real" American's didn't want. Now I have to shift my support away from immigrants' rights to drivers licenses, public education, and welfare benefits.

3. He appears to consider the existence of 45.8 million uninsured Americans to be an adequate "meeting the responsibility" of providing health care for the poor and the elderly. Especially when 24.3 percent of people with incomes below $25,000 were uninsured, I fail to see how Americans are meeting said responsibility. Get me a drink.

2. He credits the reduction in abortions in this country to "support for abstinence and adoption," when every sensible person knows that abstinence-only education is a farce that is harmful to teens' sexuality. The Guttmacher Institute (and Henry Waxman) have demonstrated the falsity of information that is meted out by the nation's most popular abstinence programs. Uh, maybe the decline in abortions is due to more responsible use of birth control, or perhaps to the horrendous lack of abortion providers in certain parts of the country? (Yeah, only 13 percent of counties in the United States are home to doctors who provide abortion services.)

1. My ears will never recover from hearing Bush utter the word "rostrum." Vaguely sexual, vaguely school-marmish, it disturbed me to no end.

Ring Around the Collar

2006-01-25T01:20:00.000-05:00

I usually find Jacob Reitan's "Faith in Action" columns in Lavender hokey and boring. But his recent interview with Father Bob Pierson -- the priest who resigned his position as Campus Minister at St. John's University following the Vatican's pronouncement on gay priests -- was actually quite interesting, though mostly due to Pierson's logical responses.

I don’t think that it is healthy for young men, or young women for that matter, to run away from their sexuality. My concern would be that if people start doing that to embrace their sense of religious vocation, we are going to end up with lots of unhealthy celibates, because they are not dealing with their sexuality properly.

Nice that Pierson's finally becoming disillusioned with the Church's approach to sexuality. Wonder why the Church's approach to women didn't get to him first.

Tempting and Blacklisted

2006-01-21T00:21:00.000-05:00

I love new music.

Bigger than Roe

2006-01-12T11:46:00.000-05:00

As if Alito's potential (and likely) threat to Roe v Wade weren't enough to make any feminist squirm, his other prior decisions demonstrate that he is a threat to much more than women's right to bear -- or not to bear -- tykes. He has proven to be less than supportive of race and sex discrimination claims on the job (Sheridan v E.I. Dupont De Nemours and Company; Bray v. Marriott Hotels); and apparently isn't so fond of the FMLA (Chittister v Department of Community and Economic Development). See the National Women's Law Center Alito Report for the full sordid details.

Sufjan and M.I.A. Be Damned

2006-01-03T16:00:00.000-05:00

In writing last year’s Top 10 Albums, I claimed, “I don’t have it in my blood to put anybody above Kristin Hersh.” Well, this year’s list proves that my blood has been slightly tainted over the past year: two albums actually out-ranked 50 Foot Wave’s 2005 release Golden Ocean. And they weren't Sufjan Stevens and M.I.A.

1. Martha Wainwright – S/T
Martha’s long been lost in the crowd that is her talented family. Singing back-up for Rufus and the McGarrigles aren’t bad gigs, sure, but her B.M.F.A. EP and sporadic one-woman performances at Rufus shows indicated that she was after something more. With this debut full-length, she went out and snatched the spotlight by the ovaries. It’s been pointed out that some of her lyrics need work. I agree. But even with some lackluster wordsmithing, this is still the best album released in 2005. From the beautiful songwriting of “Far Away” and “Who Was I Kidding?” to the searing bite of “Factory” and “Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole,” this album fucking rules. Little bro’s gonna have to pull a big one out of his hat to top his sis next go 'round.

2. Sleater-Kinney – The Woods
Am I biased towards The Woods because this is the first S-K album that I’ve purchased within even a year of its release date? Am I biased towards it because I finally saw them live this year and nearly exploded with excitement and love afterwards? Is that why I rank it so high despite bizarrely widespread distaste for the “direction the band has taken”? Hell no, I ain’t biased towards anything. The Woods is rocking - coming through stereo speakers or live in concert - and that shouldn’t scare anyone off. Blast the album, sing along with Carrie to “Modern Girl,” and be happy. I know I am.

3. 50 Foot Wave – Golden Ocean
Ah, the inevitable Kristin Hersh appearance. Infinitely re-playable for sure, but Golden Ocean’s basically a simmering expansion of last year’s six-song EP, which is why I couldn’t rank it higher. Still, “Long Painting” is one of the best songs I’ve ever heard and the rest of the album is blisteringly punky with Kristin’s unmistakable voice topping everything off.

4. The Go! Team – Thunder, Lightning, Strike
Technically a 2004 release, but an expanded version was released in the U.S. in 2005, so I’m keeping it in. Pure, unadulterated dance-joy. For more, check out my earlier review.

5. Antony and the Johnsons – I Am a Bird Now
Like Macy Gray’s voice, Antony’s is one that either grates on your nerves or makes you praise whichever sperm and egg came together to help mold those vocal chords. Obviously, I belong to the sperm-and-egg-praising group. Filled with stellar guest appearances (including Lou Reed and Mr. Wainwright, yet again), Antony leaves no doubt as to whose album it really is. Special thanks to Hot Doorknobs for letting me borrow it initially. Thankfully, I now have my own copy, so I don’t have to travel to Brooklyn to listen to it.

6. Detroit Cobras – Baby
One of the most fun live bands around (see #7 for another one), this album is great at communicating their live energy and sass. “I Wanna Holler,” “It’s Raining,” and “The Real Thing” are particularly fantastic. And stick around for the attached Seven Easy Pieces EP featuring the rambunctious “99 and a Half Just Won’t Do.”

7. Old Time Relijun – 2012
This album kicks off with two heart-stopping tracks -- "Chemical Factory" and "Los Angeles" -- and only gives you a couple songs thereafter that are tame (or ridiculous) enough to get it started again. Those there being filled with saxophonic squawks and mouth organ dilly-dallying. Skip those, love the rest.

8. Kate and Anna McGarrigle – The McGarrigle Christmas Hour
What, a Christmas album? Damn straight. Now that the presents have been opened, I’ve tucked this one back on the shelf. But guaranteed in mid-January I’ll be pulling it out again so I can hear the beautiful opening track, “Seven Joys of Mary,” or Martha’s fantastically bitter “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.” Extra cheers for the traditional French carol medley, “Il est né/ça bergers,” which brought back some bizarre pew-seated memories. And never have I enjoyed “Blue Christmas” more than Chaim Tannenbaum’s (??) version.

9. Juliana Hatfield – Made in China
Boy, does the title of this album's opening track aptly describe Juliana -- "New Waif." She is certainly scarily tiny now. But she still knows how to elicit some big sound out of that guitar of hers. Not my favorite album of the year (right, it's #9, see), but I definitely dig it. Especially "What Do I Care": "What the fuck?/It's a miracle I'm even here" and "My Pet Lion": "I got tricks to keep me in line...Like sitting on my hands." Is there something you're trying to tell us, Juliana?

10. The Fall – Fall Heads Roll
No, this isn’t just a dutiful nod to Mark’s favorite band. This album truly is great. Well, at least it definitely has some great tunes ("Pacifying Joint" and "I Can Hear the Grass Grow" for sure), with a minimum amount of Mark E Smith squealing, and a maximum amount of his rad lyrics and sneers. I mean, who wouldn't enjoy his swaggering nonchalance throughout "Ride Away"? "Uh hey hey!"

Honorable mentions: The Soviettes – LP III; The Hold Steady – Separation Sunday; The Positions – Bliss. And a special congrats to Rufus Wainwright who appears on three of these albums, none of which are his. That’s gotta be worth something.

Happy New Year's, y'all.

Time to Bury the Donut Guy

2005-12-30T23:32:00.000-05:00

Everyone's favorite donut maker, Michael Vale (aka "Fred the Baker"), passed away this week. While Vale was a former acting classmate of stars Tony Curtis, Ben Gazzara and Rod Steiger, the Dunkin' Donuts pink and orange never looked better on another. (Though fellow "sleepy-eyed" actor Vincent Schiavelli may be equally missed.)

Miss Seventeen Shocker

2005-12-20T17:58:00.000-05:00

News Alert! News Alert! Seventeen Magazine has selected this year's teenage role model, "MTV's Miss Seventeen," and she is... a Skinny, Blonde, White Woman! YAY!

Now, I have nothing personal against "Jen" -- she sounds like an okay person who has been through a lot, what with both of her parents incarcerated and having to work three jobs and all. And yet she remains "perky and happy." Good for her. Oh, and "Jen" was mostly raised by her grandparents -- such a shockingly "different" story for a pretty white girl.

I find it remarkable that competitions which apparently factor in more than beauty still result in conventionally beautiful people making it to the finals. And a pretty, skinny, blonde, white woman winning. What, am I supposed to feel better cause she has braces? If the winner didn't receive a photo on the magazine's cover, would an unconventionally attractive woman have had better odds? Would a woman of color with a similar backstory won? Would a disabled dyke have had a shot?

Sheesh, I don't know why I'm kvetching. I really shoudn't have expected more from a magazine that features a Body Mass Index on its website's homepage -- all in the name of "health," of course. Of course.

Resources for Gremlins

2005-12-16T22:28:00.000-05:00

Even though the mythical stork will never deliver a bundle of "joy" on my doorstep (and if he tries, I'll tell him just where he can go), I can appreciate good books for kids and abnormal -- but extraordinary -- approaches to dealing with them. Two such resources caught my attention recently, the first being (Queer Eye) Carson Kressley's new book for kids, You're Different and That's Super! It's for tots who feel different in all sorts of ways -- race, gender, style, class, hobbies, etc. Carson seems sincere in his motivation for entering the crowded celebrity children's book market; let's hope the contents of the book live up to its potential.

Also exciting is GenderPAC's emerging "Children as They Are" campaign, which entails treating kids, er, as they are and not according to any rigid gender stereotypes. It means not telling boys they shouldn't cry or play the flute and not prohibiting girls from joining a game of tackle football or chasing frogs in sewers. The little gender-confident gremlins will thank you for it later.

Corky Jones D. (1991?-2005)

2005-12-12T22:09:00.000-05:00

Corkster, you had the personality of a Hollywood maven – you knew what you wanted and when and didn’t take bullshit from anybody. You were selective in your chosen companions, and faithful to the chosen until the end. You were an athlete, a musician, an adventurer, an enemy, an acrobat, a glutton, an imp, an alarm clock, a distraction, a seat warmer, a flirt, a co-conspirator, a nag, a de-upholsterer, a comfort, and a friend. You were my first true love and you will be missed.

#5: Frondeuse Duchesse de Montpensier

2005-12-09T21:25:00.000-05:00

The marital history of Anne, Duchesse de Montpensier (and daughter of the duc d'Orléans) appears to be a point of dispute. In his history of Paris, Jones claims she never married. But Wikipedia claims she was secretly married to the duc de Lauzun, "a little man whose ugliness seems to have exercised a certain fascination over many women." This little, ugly man later treated her (and, presumably, the many other women) like shit. Perhaps the answer to the question of her marriage can be found in her memoirs?

Regardless, there is no disputing Anne's diehard support of the Fronde, during which she personally commanded anti-royalist Frondeur cannonfire from the Bastille.

#4: La Pucelle

2005-12-03T14:38:00.000-05:00

Jeanne d'Arc -- the coolest woman in French history. Enough said.

#3: Queen Regent Blanche of Castille

2005-12-01T22:54:00.000-05:00

Jones writes:

In 1250, while Saint Louis [Louis IX] was away on crusade, the king’s mother Queen Regent Blanche of Castille donated to Sorbon ‘a house which had belonged to Jean of Orléans and the adjacent stables situated on the Rue Coupe-Gueule, in front of the Palais des Thermes’. On this material basis was founded the college of the Sorbonne, for sixteen poor scholars, in 1253.

I can just see Queen Blanche scheming right now: “Hmmm...while the cat’s away, the mice will start a world renowned university. Yes, yes...”

#2: Les femmes de la Rue Pute-y-Muse

2005-11-30T21:42:00.000-05:00

Today I salute the women who walked the streets named "Whore-Hides-Here" and "Scabby Whore" (Rue Pute-y-Muse and Impasse Putigneaux, respectively) in 13th and 14th century Paris. These philanthropic women requested to finance a stained glass window in Notre Dame (as had other tradesmen and tradeswomen), but the bishop refused their money. Perhaps he couldn't bear the thought of Church money being laundered through prostitutes only to return once more to Church coffers?

#1: St. Geneviève

2005-11-29T17:40:00.000-05:00

Thirty pages into Colin Jones's intriguing book Paris: The Biography of a City, I am inspired to initiate a daily series honoring interesting women from French history. For each day it takes me to read the near-500 pages of tiny print, I'll profile a woman mentioned in my previous day's reading.

Today: Saint Geneviève, patron saint of Paris, police officers, and air stewards. A strict vegetarian, Geneviève was charged by a bishop with protecting the "sanctity" of Parisian virgins. While interesting, that's hardly the most important credit to her name. She also saved the city from Attila's ravages and ended at least one famine single-handedly. Geneviève also lived to be almost 100 (419-512!), which is surely a noteworthy accomplishment for 5th century France. Vegetarian, virginal, and vitalizing. Not quite Jeanne d'Arc, but she'll do.

I Wanna Holler

2005-11-22T11:26:00.000-05:00

In French, a “détroit” is what we Anglo-parlant folks call a “strait" -- a narrow channel of water that connects two larger bodies of water. At the risk of being make-ya-wanna-vomit symbolic, I like to think that the Detroit Cobras are a channel for connecting two different eras of sound -- older R&B/soul and newer pop/rock. Their albums are endlessly enjoyable (including their new release Baby) and have introduced a number of people to a lot of songs they probably never would have heard (and all that other sappy stuff). But, for me, one lingering question remained -- which Nagy is more talented in the spotlight: Rachel or Charles?

After Friday night's show at the Triple Rock, I can definitely say that the winner is Rachel. Sure, Charles was a 3-time all star, but did he ever have an audience at his fingertips, ready to obey all commands? If he had told the Indians' fans to stop their offensive tomahawk chop, would they have listened? Probably not.

But Friday night, Rachel was in charge. If the audience started to act up, slamming each other a little too hard for her tastes, she'd quiet us down. If the white male half of a multi-racial couple refused to dance with his "hot latte mama" of a girlfriend, Rachel would have given him hell. And when a tall man in the back of the crowd refused to move a muscle or smile, she called him out on it.

Oh yeah, but the music. Well, Rachel dominated that too. Sure, the rest of the band is pretty rocking, but there's really nothing that took my attention away from Rachel and her voice. (And that décolletage-showing button-down. Ahem.) Much like at the Sleater-Kinney show, there were points where I totally forgot myself and couldn't stop jumping around, especially on "Hey Sailor" and "99 and a Half Just Won't Do."

Plus, it’s rare to find a three-band bill that thrice delivers, but this one sure enough did. Chooglin’ performed their first ever show like the seasoned stage vets they are – apparently most of the band is former Midnight Evils. And Reigning Sound followed with a captivating performance, led by Greg Cartwright, who also co-produced the Cobras' new album and appeared on stage as a full-on band member. Their name is also pretty accurate, as the sound emanating from that stage seemed bigger than what three people could produce. Though perhaps a more apt band name woulda been "Hyper-Vibrato Frontman," as Cartwright's entire body shook while he sang, reminiscent of a clarinet or sax reed being attacked by a stream of hot air.

Yeeha, I had a good time.

From Hell to Z

2005-11-17T22:49:00.000-05:00

Since my new employers are forcing me to learn more about comics and graphic novels as part of my job -- I know, they're so mean -- I was excited to see and explore IGN's Ultimate Bookshelf of graphic novels, found via CJ. I haven't read many (probably just one, I'm ashamed to confess), but I hope to improve my batting average soon.

Unsolicited Advice

2005-11-15T11:45:00.000-05:00

Visit my former housemate Sam's new blog -- Unsolicited Advice. Her choice of url (deardepartedannlanders.blogspot.com) hints at the humor that is to be found there.
Believe Mark's review of last Saturday's show at the Entry. I mostly agree with it, though I may have enjoyed Spider Fighter more than he did -- I thought their departure from the stage was too abrupt, and I didn't necessarily miss Arzu's vocal hysterics.
Experiment with Linda McCartney's vegetarian shepherd's pie recipe, found below. She's dead, ya know, so making this dish is like paying her homage. Do it. But add a middle layer of canned peas or corn for full tastebud acrobatics.

Ingredients
1.5 lbs. potatoes
6 Tbsp. butter or margarine
1-2 Tbsp. milk
1 large onion, chopped
1 4.5 oz. packet TVP mince or 6 veggie burgers, crumbled
2 Tbsp. soy sauce
1.5 cups vegetable stock or water (3/4 cup if using veggie burgers)
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Directions
Pre-heat the oven to 400F. (Or not -- why do recipes always ask you to pre-heat before 'tis absolutely necessary?) Boil the potatoes and mash them in a bowl with 4 tablespoons of the butter and enough milk to give a good sticky consistency. Put them to one side.
Melt the remaining butter in a frying pan and sauté the onion. Add the TVP mince, soy sauce and vegetable stock. Simmer for 5-10 minutes. Season to taste.
If you want a thicker mixture, blend a little flour or vegetable gravy mix with some vegetable stock and add to the sauté. Cook until thickened, stirring constantly. Pour the mixture into a baking dish and cover with the mashed potatoes.
Bake for 30 minutes, until the potatoes are nice and brown.

Rolling in Harper Lee's Grave

2005-11-08T16:15:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I overheard a pubescent boy squeak out the question, "I'm supposed to have a book on hold -- uh, I think it's called How to Kill a Mockingbird?"

Well, I don't think this is exactly the required reading he was looking for, but here's a Flash interpretation of "how to kill a mockingbird."

[NOTE: Due to technical difficulties, I myself haven't viewed said killing, but all internet reviews proclaim that it's hysterical.]

Aural Double Dutch

2005-10-27T10:17:00.000-05:00

In Thunder, Lightning, Strike, their 2004 UK release, The Go! Team created the perfect soundtrack to go alongside memories of schoolyard days filled with sidewalk chalk and kickball. Luckily for those of us in the U.S. who balk at import prices, Columbia released the album in the states in early October -- with two bonus tracks! [Also, check out their U.S. website, which is less annoyingly Flash-based and allows you to download the neat icon to your upper left.]

Though less politically motivated than either Northern State or Le Tigre, The Go! Team inspire the same goofy grin and unconscious head-bobbing. Plus, they're more talented samplers and know how to use vocals sparingly and effectively.

"Get It Together" has lazy sunny day anthem written all over it -- until the last 30 seconds kick in and you're forced to your feet, jumping and chanting along. "Junior Kickstart" is what every '70s cop show theme song tried to be. "Friendship Update" is what every '80s cop show theme song tried to be. And "Huddle Formation" is just damn near the best new song I've heard in years.

I'd definitely be going to see them at First Ave. tomorrow night if I wasn't getting out of work three hours after the show starts. I'm crushed; still, I hope my Minneapolis compatriots will go shake their respective booties at the show for me.

NOTE: Today, I've found that in addition to a perfect schoolyard soundtrack, the album nicely accompanies celebratory dances in honor of Harriet Miers’ Supreme Court nomination withdrawal and/or Cheryl Swoopes’ coming out.]

The Final "Final Solution"

2005-10-24T10:30:00.000-05:00

Well, I finally got around to reading Michael Chabon's Sherlock Holmes as old man in the countryside pastiche -- The Final Solution: A Story of Detection. My grade: B+.

The mere facts that Chabon used an actual Doyle story title (The Final Solution) for the title of his own novella, and that he is a Pulitzer-Prize winning, mega-popular writer put me ill at ease. I was prepared to wretch and convulse throughout the mere 131 pages at the slightest hint of snobbery or misunderstanding of Holmes's character. Luckily for me (and the pristine pages of the library book), I found no serious cause to hurl.

This was my first Chabon adventure and I discovered what many already know -- this man can write. Anyone who can use the words "echolalia" and "susurrus" without making you flinch or lose your rhythm doth know how to wield a pen. The tale he crafted was sweet, though the mystery itself was tame and somewhat boring. However, unlike Doyle, Chabon consciously pursued character studies rather than intrigue, so perhaps this lack was on purpose.

Now to the big question: was his characterization of an 89-year-old Holmes pure? I'd say relatively so. While I prefer my Holmes strong and spry, any near-nonagenarian has gotta have his creaky bones and slow habits. Chabon gives his "old man" these qualities with a quiet dignity. The role of solitary beekeeper who doesn't actually like honey nicely bridges Doyle's solitary and ironic Holmes into the land of the elderly. I didn't quite appreciate or believe that Holmes would have abandoned all of his vices though. Not that I expected him to still be shooting up coke, but I doubted his antipathy towards any kind of alcohol. The major qualm I had was his overly emotional response to people and situations, particularly his quick and easy attachment to the German boy at the heart of the story and his near breakdown at the sight of post-war London. Oh well.

Just a couple more notes:
1) I hated those goddamn illustrations. They added nothing to the story, and actually detracted from it. Jay Ryan, you ain't no Sidney Paget, and I'm not reading a children's book.
2) Chabon's attempt to slip in references to real Holmes stories bordered on overkill. You actually read all the stories, we get it and believe you.
3) I am still uncertain about the perspective of Chapter 10, but I'm beginning to think I like it. (You'll have to read it for yourself; I hate people who ruin surprise twists.)

So, anyway, I guess I actually recommend this one. Plus, unlike Kavalier and Clay, it's super short and will only suck a few hours from your life.

Fit for the Godfather

2005-10-14T20:51:00.000-05:00

Like Richard Nixon said, "I am not a cook." I love baking, but anything requiring olive oil rather than vegetable oil is usually out of my domain. However, I was inspired to put away my bundt pans (temporarily) by a recipe for baked ziti with seitan from a Vegetarian Times cookbook. I made it last night and it was tasty. Leftovers tonight were equally pleasing. Here's the recipe in case you want to try for yourself.

Ingredients
12 oz. dried ziti
8 oz. seitan
2 cups button or cremini mushrooms (I used cremini)
1 25-oz. jar tomato sauce
1 lb. extra-firm tofu, drained, or low-fat ricotta (I used high-fat ricotta)
1/3 cup chopped fresh basil or 5.5 tsp. dried basil
2 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice
2 tsp. olive oil
salt to taste
1/2 tsp. ground black pepper
1/2 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley

Directions
1. Preheat the oven to 400F. (That's a lie. Preparation takes a while; no need to preheat yet.)
2. Heat pot of lightly salted H2O over medium heat and cook pasta. Drain & set aside.
3. Chop the seitan and mushrooms until coarse and crumbly. (That's the seitan that should be crumbly, not the mushrooms.) Put the mixture in a large saucepan, stir in the tomato sauce and cook over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes. Remove from the heat and cover to keep warm.
4. Put the tofu, basil, lemon juice, 2 tsp. of oil, pepper and salt into a food processor or blender, and process until the consistency resembles ricotta. If using ricotta, mix by hand.
5. Spread several Tbsp. of the tomato-seitan mixture in a 13x9 inch baking dish, making sure to evenly coat the bottom and sides to prevent sticking. Combine the pasta, tofu mixture, the remaining tomato-seitan mixture and parsley. Fold gently to combine all the ingredients. Spread evenly into the baking dish.
6. Bake for 15 minutes, or until heated through. (Or until you've dealt with the blaring smoke alarm and turned the oven back on.) Remove from the oven, and serve hot to Don Corleone.

Lost Twin Cities

2005-10-07T12:05:00.000-05:00

I recently watched the second installment of TPT's "Lost Twin Cities" series from the mid-'90s, based on Larry Millett's book by the same name. (Yes, the same Larry Millett who gets my hackles up whenever I think about his Sherlock Holmes stories.) While the segments about Northwest's Stratocruiser and the downfall of Porky's Drive-Ins were boringly quaint, the series really delivered when it described the tragedy of lost architecture in St. Paul and the racial unity (however brief it was) around jazz at the Treasure Inn.

Treasure Inn sax player Percy Hughes wistfully described the turning point in the Inn's life:

There was an argument. And all of a sudden there were gunshots. And I remember kneeling behind, of all things, my music stand, which wouldn't stop a bullet. No way! And a dear friend of mine was killed. He was shot. And my heart just went out to Dick and Claude and Howard [the club's owners]. But to see a club, black and white and everyone just enjoying, there's a beautiful message there. We need more messages like that right now.

The most heartbreaking segment was about the callous destruction by St. Paul officials of the culture and homes at Swede Hollow on the east side of the city. Tucked away in a ravine that you can only access through an old railroad tunnel -- and towered over by brewer magnate Theodore Hamm's mansion -- Swede Hollow was the home of numerous waves of immigrants who couldn't afford to live anywhere else. Sure, the Hollow probably wasn't the safest or healthiest place to live, but why slash and burn (quite literally, by the way) when you could help the residents build safe homes up to public health standards instead of shipping them all off to apartments?

On the upside, at least Minneapolis' Urban Adventurers, the Action Squad, have found pleasure in exploring the abandoned ruins of Hamm's Brewery. Until the brewery gets razed by the city, that is.

Frankly, Big Papi, I Don't Give a Damn

2005-10-04T12:24:00.000-05:00

It’s Oscar time for baseball. Soon, overly muscular men will strut their stuff on the red carpet of the media (or at least sports journalists and the players’ PR reps will) to prove why each one is or is not deserving of the Cy Young, MVP, Rookie of the Year, and Manager of the Year awards. These awards seem as meaningful to me as a juicy filet mignon sitting on my plate -- not very. I can never remember who won the previous year’s awards, nor do I care to.

But I am intrigued by the debate stirred up this year (and in past years too, I’m sure) about the relative merit of giving the MVP award to a DH rather than to a player who participates on both offense and defense. Fans and journalists are pledging their allegiance either to Alex Rodriguez or David Ortiz for the AL MVP; most for Rodriguez are citing Big Papi's less than frequent stints on defense. Despite my Red Sox love, I don't really care who wins. But if pinned down to choose, of course I'd say Ortiz. The argument (thank you Scott Miller) kinda goes like this:

Normally, I subtract points for a designated hitter. I know the argument -- hey, it's in the rules that a guy can use the stick but not his glove -- but a DH still is not a complete player. However, Ortiz has been so money for the Red Sox over the past two seasons -- and particularly this year -- that I believe his summer has been special enough to warrant the award. Of his 47 home runs, 20 have either tied the game or put the Red Sox ahead. As Ortiz himself might say, that's a lot of clutch homers, bro.

Beyond what this discussion means for the MVP debate (cause I don't care, remember?), I'm more interested in the potential implications for Hall of Fame inductions, which I do care about. In 2003, when the debate was raging about Edgar Martinez, I remember staunchly refusing him a ticket to Cooperstown by arguing that as a DH he didn't belong. Now I realize that what I meant to argue was that EdMar shouldn't be in the Hall because of his lack of stellar accomplishments, not because of his position.

If Ted Williams had been a DH and hit in the same way, I would have wanted him to be inducted. Same with Pete Rose. (Oh, right.) Just cause you're a DH doesn't mean you can't be the most valuable player or Hall of Fame caliber. It just means you have to be pretty damn awesome to overcome the fact that you're sitting on the bench for more than half the game. I think Ortiz has it in him to do just that.

[Oh, and since I mentioned it, I may as well officially say on record that Pete Rose has my backing to be in the Hall of Fame. Anything he did while a manager isn't any more greedy or harmful to baseball than any number of moves made by players, coaches, and managers nearly every day. He just got caught. It shouldn't affect his status as one of the greatest players of all time. (In 1999 Sporting News selected him as the 25th Greatest Baseball Player, ahead of Sandy Koufax, Tris Speaker, Rod Carew, Mel Ott, and Yogi Berra, among others.) Hell, they let violent assholes into the Hall, so why not a gambler?]

You Mean I Can't Buy Condoms with That?

2005-09-28T11:22:00.000-05:00

Congratulations to Dr. Dora Mills, Director of Maine's Bureau of Health, and Governor John Baldacci for continuing to refuse federal abstinence-only "sex education" money. Their decision has brought the grand total of states that refuse to take such funds to a whopping three; Pennsylvania and California complete the trio.

Unfortunately, Dr. Mills (and future state funding for the Bureau of Health) are now under attack by conservative members of the state legislature:

"First of all, the bureau's director, Dr. Dora Mills, is not a policymaker or elected, like legislators, so I continue to object to policy being made by bureaucrats," [State Sen. Debra D.] Plowman said. "Second, I hope that she's going to find that $161,000 somewhere in her budget to continue the program she has been involved in, because we're not making it up. So she best not be asking for any increases in her budget next year, or the two years after that for that matter. If she can unilaterally turn away money, then she can't be in too difficult circumstances. She, and the governor, should have run that one by the Legislature."

Aside from the petty linguistic criticism of Plowman's contention that one can make a unilateral bureaucratic decision in conjunction with a state elected official (the Guv at that!), this quote is pure schoolyard battle drivel. "She best not be asking me for an Oreo after thumbing her nose at Mrs. Smith's Soft Batch chocolate chip cookie yesterday." What, is Debra Plowman 9 years old?

Of course, I'm anti-abstinence-only funding, so I'd agree with Mills's and Baldacci's decision regardless of the conservative response. But if I were a Maine resident and read Plowman's asinine threats, I'd be incensed that this woman was ever elected to the legislature. Mills wasn't overstepping her bounds as a bureau director by acting in conjunction with the Administration to refuse that funding. She was being smart and principled and demonstrating that not all state officials are out for more federal money to stuff their own coffers.

La Haîne

2005-09-26T14:08:00.001-05:00

Here are some folks who recently have received spit-laced invectives for committing various "crimes," some great, some small, and some imaginary. You decide which is which.

God-and-country-lovin' John Denver fans turn violent when Mark writes a review exposing the irrelevance of their beloved'’s music.
After implicating teammate Miguel Tejada in his own embarrassing steroid controversy, Raffy Palmeiro is asked to leave the Orioles' locker room and to not return for the rest of the season. Oddsmakers put it that no other team will ask him to ride their bench next season either.
Police in Ciudad Juarez receive fiery criticism for their gross incompetence in investigating the murder of 350+ women in the city and surrounding area.
New York Yankee Derek "I-I-I-I-I-get-around" Jeter receives more hate mail for dating white women.

Walk, Don't Run to the Playoffs

2005-09-23T14:55:00.000-05:00

For other ailing Red Sox fans out there, I have a temporary cure for your playoff worries: the toe-tap inducing guitar-and-drum goodness of The Challengers. It's hard to find an objective history of the band, but check out bassist Randy Nauert's nifty summary and Challengers Cartoon Book.

Though not the most famous of the surf rock bands of the '60s, these guys knew how to play the genre well and outplayed some of the original bands on the very tunes that made them so famous (The Ventures and The Surfaris, to name just two). Seriously, check out The Challengers' version of "Wipeout." It may stave off fears about the Red Sox, who are in danger of doing just that.

You gotta have balls to call 'em

2005-09-20T22:30:00.000-05:00

Do you go to a French restaurant expecting the head chef to have been born and raised in Provence? Or are you more concerned that the chef cooks your “moules avec frites” to perfection? According to “Breaking into Baseball: Women and the National Pastime” by Jean Hastings Ardell, the National Association of Professional Baseball Leagues (NAPBL) demonstrated its allegiance to pure French ethnicity in a 1968 lawsuit concerning the contract of Bernice “Bernie” Gera, one of the few female umpires to break even the single A ranks of professional baseball:

Leisure [the NAPBL Wall Street-trained lawyer] likened the NABL’s need for male umpires to that of a French restaurant’s need for a French chef or a religious organization’s preference for a salesman of its own creed.

Hmm...isn't an employer hiring based on preferences for her/his own group characteristics illegal (in theory, anyway)? The New York State Human Rights Commission agreed that it was, and Gera eventually did win the battle -- after 5 years of stress and attorney fees. So, how come the situation of female umpires in professional baseball has not improved since Gera’s case almost 40 years ago?

For example, Pam Postema – who had accumulated 12 years of professional umpiring experience, including 6 in triple A – was set for a historical promotion to the majors in 1988. However, after a controversial media attack against her led by born-again Christian/ Houston Astros pitcher Bob Knepper, Postema was “released” from her duties for ejecting too many people and a “worsening” attitude. [Insiders knowingly blamed these foibles on a bad case of PMS, I'm sure.] Postema's fate was sealed by a tell-all expose of major league baseball (which I've gotta read) and questions surrounding her sexuality. She would never call a game in the majors -- and neither would any other woman.

It is true that Postema's goal eluded her and that few women followed in her path. Melvin Driskoll, of Jim Evans's Academy of Professional Umpiring, said they have a hard time attracting women. [Do they even try?] Between 1977 and 2002, thirteen women attended Harry Wendelstedt's school, with only Postema and Theresa Cox making it into the minor leagues.

If professional experts are supposed to reflect their charges or clientele, can someone explain why so many women’s basketball/ hockey/ volleyball/ curling coaches are men? Or why so many gynecologists and obstetricians are men? Cause last time I checked, men don’t have vaginas.

But It's Only 10 Miles from I-80

2005-09-13T21:02:00.000-05:00

Since Mark has already brilliantly documented the highlights of our semi-cross country trek, here are the coulda-been highlights -- if we had had two more weeks to make the journey and a shitload of money:

Our first tangential stop was to Wheatland -- "Where Presidential History Comes to Life." Oh boy, and did it ever. I will never forget traipsing through the rooms that once housed James Buchanan.

We then headed west to Altoona, PA to visit the famous horseshoe curve. I had been there before, but wanted to ride that crazy "Funicular" again.

A couple hours into our trip, we stopped at Frank Lloyd Wright's classic woodsy architectural haven, Fallingwater. I bought this T-shirt.

Next, Mark wanted to stop at the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh. We spent a couple hours gazing at Marilyn and a bunch of soup cans and then combed through the archives.

In our continuing search for presidential paraphernelia, we had barely crossed the border into Ohio before hitting the McKinley Memorial Library and Museum. We even got to sit next to McKinley, who was daintily perched on a red velvet couch.

After leaving McKinley behind, we hightailed it to Cedar Point Park, where two full days were spent riding roller coasters. We probably felt a combined 500 G's pushing and lifting and generally propelling our bodies in all directions. I left a happy woman.

At this point, we decided to make a beeline for Minneapolis, and only allowed ourselves one more (ridiculously expensive) stop -- at Taliesin, the Wright house and compound located in Spring Green, WI. Super pretty and worth the money if you happen to have it bulging out of your wallet.

Aaahhh...then home once again.

Tennis Rocket Battles

2005-09-08T06:58:00.000-05:00

Dear Lord. And to think Andre Agassi used to be at the top of my "I hate you" list.

Agassi over Blake 3-6, 3-6, 6-3, 6-3, 7-6 (8-6).

I sure wish Pete were still playing, so we could compare their mid-30s tennis capabilities. And their adorable schlockiness:

At 1:15 in the morning for 20,000 people to still be here, I wasn't the winner, tennis was.

Stalled at the Start

2005-09-03T12:50:00.000-05:00

How is a person supposed to start boxing up books and clothes when the fascinating U.S. Open match between Rafael "I-can't-decide-if-I-prefer-black-or-white-capris" Nadal and James "Thank-God-my-face-is-no-longer-paralyzed" Blake is taking place?

Blake's currently serving at 5-4 for the first set after having just broken Nadal. Oh, what I wouldn't do for Blake's inside-out forehand.

Blake just won the first set. Please let him knock that pretty Spaniard out.

Hometown Pride

2005-09-01T16:45:00.000-05:00

In honor of the anniversary of the first day of the Great Textile Strike in Woonsocket (Sept. 1, 1934), take a look at this Illustrated Timeline of Woonsocket Labor History. Those fiesty Canucks!

I am also proud to report that the University of Minnesota library has the book published by the Industrial Trades Union of America that is pictured at left.

Snoozin' Song Tag

2005-08-27T10:58:00.000-05:00

Okay, so Bob Mould didn't exactly tag me personally, but I've visited his Whole Foods a couple times in the past week and maybe I touched a nectarine that he gently nudged with his knuckle while reaching for the grapes...

Here's the deal: List ten songs you currently are obsessing over -- any genre, any format, etc. If you have a blog, do it there; if you don't, do it here. Then tag five people or so. Here are my songs, in no particular order:

Arcade Fire: Wake Up
Kleenex/Liliput: You
Rufus Wainwright: One Man Guy
Bikini Kill: Feels Blind
Will Smith: Switch
Imperial Teen: Teacher's Pet
The Go-Betweens: Heart and Home
Missy Elliott: Lose Control
Guns N' Roses: Mr. Brownstone
The Positions: Back to Me

Okay: Mark, Eli, Jon, Ezra & Alex, Kate & Eden, Emily, CJ, Ross, and Liz -- consider your nectarines gently nudged by my knuckles.

Ride Again, $4 & Stall Humor

2005-08-23T18:00:00.000-05:00

While I didn't exactly approach Michael Boodley's Bastille Day, 1975 record-setting performance of 1,000 consecutive rides on the Coney Island Cyclone [pictured left], I did experience the historic wooden coaster's brilliance twice in a row this past weekend. Who knew that a coaster that began operating in 1927 could be so damn exciting! I guess I would expect nothing less from "perhaps the most famous roller coaster of all time."

The Cyclone's notorious first drop (of 85 feet at a ridiculously steep 60 degree angle) was phenomenal. Then, for a blessed one minute and 50 seconds (covering 2,650 feet along the way), you're whipped around six 180 degree turns, 18 track crossovers, and a whopping 27 changes of direction. I left with bruises and the next day woke up with sore muscles. Of course, I wouldn't have my wooden roller coasters any other way. I feel perfectly content with skipping Cedar Point now.

Also while in NY, I ran across the funniest bathroom stall graffiti conversation I've seen in quite a while:

Drunk woman #1: I hate those damn Red Sox, except for that Mike Timlin, who is H-O-T.
Drunk woman #2: I'm with you, except mine is Brian Daubach. Woo hoo!
Drunk woman #3: The Red Sox rule! MLB Champs 2005!
Drunk woman #4: The Red Sox can go fuck themselves! Yankees rule! They were just throwing the Red Sox a bone!

Wow, where to begin? First, I love that there was a drunken baseball debate happening in a women's bathroom stall. This makes me happy.

Second, I need to point out that Yankees fans have, uh, interesting taste in men. Timlin and Daubach? These certainly can't be the same fans who drool over Jeter.

Third, just throwing the Red Sox a bone? Then what are they doing this year? Setting a big juicy steak in front of us? Cause it sure looks to me like the Sox are going to win the Division, and that the Yankees are in a 3-way tie for first in the Wild Card race. Red Sox rule!

Throwing Asymptosy

2005-08-19T07:06:00.000-05:00

Umm...take a look at the new Throwing Music Blog. Now, I know there are blogger templates and all that, but I distinctly remember screwing around with different color combos before settling on this design.

Also, note the hip new TM home page, as well as the exciting news about more "Free Music" in the works. Plus Kristin's working on a new solo album AND a 2nd edition of "Murder, Misery and then Goodnight". What a way to start my morning. I love this woman.

Hatching and Strippling

2005-08-17T17:36:00.000-05:00

After my weekend trip to the National Building Museum, I am convinced some part of me was an architect in the 18th or 19th century. Their current exhibition, Tools of the Imagination, made my blood pressure rise, my eyeballs explode, and my latent kleptomania emerge. You can see some of the beautiful instruments as part of an exhibition flyer. Here are the tools I especially wanted to swipe:

1) Four-layer magazine case: Who doesn't want to keep all of their architectural implements in a nickel silver bound burr walnut case?

2) Beam compass: Or, in this case, a "microscopic" beam compass.

3) Ellipsograph, or trammel, if you will. If you get really skilled with it, you're even allowed to join the Elliptical Turning Association. No joke.

4) Perspectograph: Which can be used to make fancy perspective drawings of houses, such as this or this.

5) Volutor: That Andrew Kay is a genius.

Buckeye Battle

2005-08-16T07:30:00.000-05:00

Mark nicely summarizes a current debate we are having over Ohio cultural attractions. Though it is kinda lopsided, in that he has choices 'a'-'e' and I'm left with meager old 'f'. My mom has already told me she's with Mark on this one, despite those presidents being "the most boring ever." Which would you pick?

Crisis at 357 Park Place

2005-08-11T19:48:00.000-05:00

I attended Woonsocket Middle School from September 1991 to June 1994 -- and they were the three happiest years I spent in school. One would think middle school would be absolute torture for tomboyish, corpulent, adolescent girls, but I loved my time there.

It's amazing how much things can change in a mere 10 years. The descriptions of the school's current state in 2005 from this Providence Journal 5-part series do not ring true to me at all. I guess I sensed things were changing at the middle school when I was in high school and heard stories from my friends' younger siblings. But this?

Woonsocket Middle School -- New England's largest -- has been called a labyrinth, a jungle, a danger zone, and even a haven.

The complex, which covers a city block larger than a football field, is full of snaking hallways, storage closets turned into classrooms, and shadowy stairways known to disorient even the heartiest visitor.This year alone, faulty intercoms, broken bathrooms, corroding pipes, and cockroaches have disrupted learning and eroded morale.

School days are frequently interrupted with arrests, fights, and violent confrontations. Three months ago, a teacher was arrested for hitting a student. Last year, 13 students were suspended for assaulting teachers and 170 students were suspended for assaulting each other.

In 1998, a student was raped in a stairwell. In 2001, another student was sexually assaulted by a gym teacher.

The school is so volatile, teachers feel it is more important to take 10 to 15 minutes out of academic time twice a day for escorted bathroom breaks rather than risk what might happen if they allowed children to tackle the bathroom trips on their own.

Now, sure, there really is nothing unique about this situation. There are bad schools around the country, many much worse than this. Woonsocket surely isn't the only community where parents are yanking their kids out of public school to go to uptight Catholic ones. And teachers clash with an ever-changing repertoire of administrators everywhere. So what's the big deal?

Well, I guess what really disturbs me is how fast the school became an absolute quagmire. To me, it epitomizes the complete disinvestment in public schools that's happening around the country, particularly in urban settings that have experienced recent waves of immigration and only seem to be getting poorer. (According to this article, 32% of Woonsocket Middle School students live in poverty and 61% come from low income families.)

In a recent conversation with someone familiar with urban New England school settings, it was agreed that investment in schools alone is not enough. The ailing schools are merely a consequence of a community that's suffering in a myriad of other ways. So do you start trying to repair the city's economy before the schools? Do you attempt a simultaneous fix? I guess that's what I went to policy school to try to figure out, but hell if I know.

Perhaps the one concrete recommendation that jumps out to me is to build another school -- this structure is clearly too small and old to hold all these kids. Woonsocket is far from being the largest city in New England, so there's no reason for it to have the largest middle school. Split the school in half, have smaller class sizes, you know the drill.

Fat 6th graders who like to wear plaid blazers should feel comfortable at Woonsocket Middle School, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't in 2005. Kids who hate going home at night should have a reprieve during the day at Woonsocket Middle School, and it sure sounds like the nightmare only continues.

Teachers, administrators: learn to get along and friggin' figure out what the hell to do with the students. Mayor, City Council, community leaders: you're no longer a mill town filled with Canucks, Italians, and Irish folk. The population's changed, so get with the program and serve your constituents -- yeah, even the ones who don't have money.

Andy Roddick's Jaime Yzaga

2005-08-09T20:07:00.000-05:00

I'll never forget the 1994 U.S. Open because of a Peruvian tennis player named Jaime Yzaga. My favorite netsman, Pete Sampras, had had a rough year and ended up losing to Yzaga in the fourth round. I was devastated. How could Pete lose to someone I had never heard of before? My friend (and 6th grade crush) Carlos sensed my distress and taunted me with the name Jaime Yzaga for years. (Little did I know that Yzaga also had dealt Pete his first ever U.S. Open loss -- in 1988!)

This devastating memory was jogged tonight as I watched Andy Roddick lose rather handily to Paul-Henri Mathieu a mere two days after Roddick won the Legg Mason here in D.C. Mathieu's performance was incredible, culminating in a scrambling point on his serve that ended with Mathieu running down a Roddick volley for a desperate forehand winner. It was amazing.

I like Roddick enough, and I loved Pete Sampras. But I imagine it being infinitely more satisfying to walk onto a tennis court and beat someone who everyone is expecting to kill you than to walk onto a tennis court and fulfill everyone's expectation that you're going to win.

Guaranteed Roddick will come out firing in next week's tournament. No one likes to learn the Yzaga lesson.

FunNY

2005-08-07T12:05:00.000-05:00

Eli has already posted about this on Expecting Rain, but I like to ~~brag about~~ highlight the talents of my friends. Check out the last paragraph of this NY Times article by Robert Strauss.

[Update: You now have to purchase the article to read the last paragraph. Basically, the article describes the award for humor fiction writing that Strauss established at Carleton, and that Eli is the only winner of the award he has ever met. And that Eli won two years in a row. And that one of Eli's winning stories pondered whether or not dogs could be Jewish.]

Design Like You Give a Damn

2005-08-06T18:54:00.000-05:00

Thanks to a profile in the Washington Post, I've discovered one of the neatest non-profit organizations ever -- Architecture for Humanity. Co-founded by practical idealists Cameron Sinclair and Kate Stohr, AFH is committed to promoting "architectural and design solutions to global, social and humanitarian crises."

AFH is working on tsunami reconstruction in Asia, improvement of "tent cities" for refugees and internally displaced persons, and construction of soccer pitches in South Africa with a focus on the pitch as a place of community gathering for HIV/AIDS prevention.

These folks ain't after the Gehry or Calatrava glamour -- they're not making much (if any) money. But they understand that not only wealthy people deserve thoughtful, ecologically sound, aesthetically pleasing design. Hats are off, guys and gals.

There Go Those Liberal Colleges Again

2005-08-05T16:47:00.000-05:00

Who knew that since 1986 Hampshire College has been home to such a valuable resource as the Population and Development Program? In a cursory glance at their online materials, I've already explored "10 Reasons Why Militarism is Bad for Queer People" and "Why the Hispanic Challenge Should Be Discredited." Take that Samuel Huntington (whose incendiary article "The Hispanic Challenge" is available online if you register for free at Foreign Policy).

Hampshire is also home to yet another phenomenal center -- the Civil Liberties and Policy Program. CLPP hosts an annual reproductive rights conference and organizes a National Day of Action that sounds pretty damn cool. Those lucky kids...

He'll Flip Ya For Real

2005-08-02T16:33:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, but not often, Hollywood does pick the right movies to sequelize. Several reports indicate that Kevin Spacey has signed on to reprise his Keyser Soze/Verbal Kint stint from The Usual Suspects!

It appears as though an Australian barista started the rumor. I guess Kevin trusts her to make his coffee, so she must be telling the truth, right? Right? Don't burst my bubble. My team of monkeys can beat your team of monkeys.

Spinning Wheel

2005-07-28T16:30:00.000-05:00

In high school, I won a WBRU radio contest and the prize was a poster and soundtrack for the movie "High Art." Since then, the film has always had its own little niche in my heart (right next to "Bound"'s little niche), and I finally actually watched the damn thing on Monday. Ally Sheedy and Radha Mitchell were stunning. But the truly incredible performance was by Patricia Clarkson as the drugged out German actress Greta. This woman's filmography is incredible! Glad she's finally getting her due.

Do I really agree with D.C. Mayor Anthony Williams about something? ESPN's inexcusable snub of D.C. in its "50 States in 50 Days" excursion needs to be challenged! Here's the web form you can use to do so. The Washington Area Frisbee Club also produced their own press release. And I thought WAFC only obtained field permits for us Ultimate players -- who knew they were political activists too?

One of my favorite Minnesota Women's Press columnists, Susan Raffo, wrote a sassy response to the bogus research about male bisexuality that was recently released.

The Made in Hong Kong Film Festival is back on at the Freer! "Love Eterne" is mine on Sunday.

Will someone please explain what our House Democratic Leader is doing podcasting?

Well, I guess deregulation of energy companies works really well, doesn't it Michigan? It led to such low-cost energy, that you ran out of funds to help poor folks not get their electricity cut off. Seems as effective as the deregulation of the airlines!

Since I was earlier chastised for having nothing to say about the John Roberts nomination, I'll direct you to the National Women's Law Center Nomination Watch blog. There, I've said something.

So not only is Wisconsin attacking its gay university system employees, but Hawaii is maintaining gender identity discrimination. Yeeha!

No Bugs Sucka!

2005-07-22T17:19:00.000-05:00

This is one of the best pictures of me ever taken! I wish I could have protective netting surrounding me 24 hours a day, so no evil spiders ever invaded my personal space. Thanks, Ross!

DTWOF: The Blog

2005-07-19T16:50:00.000-05:00

Comic genius Alison Bechdel (whose Carleton book-signing I staffed!) has her own blog! Check out Dykes to Watch Out For: The Blog -- the new hot spot loaded with super-cool dyke talk and previews of new DTWOF strips. [Found via Blogs by Women.]

Egg Cream

2005-07-07T19:19:00.000-05:00

I am at work at 8:19 p.m. and desperately craving an egg cream. Apparently, people spend their time theorizing about the origin of the egg cream or about the origin of its curiously innacurate name. If I only had my hands on the proper ingredients, I would make this recipe, or this recipe, or this recipe, or this recipe...

United Feminists of America

2005-07-03T15:10:00.000-05:00

According to a Washington Post article published in today's edition, feminists long ago formed a union and created a "Code of Conduct for Honorable Feminists." Well, that's not exactly what the article said, but it may as well have.

Surely your average successful lawyer has faced this dilemma: give up a career or take care of the family. But not the Chief Woman Lawyer of America -- she shouldn't quit to take care of her family, should she? What kind of message does that send? "I was on a radio show and someone called in to say, 'Would we ever see a man retire to take care of his spouse?'" says Suzanna Sherry, a law professor at Vanderbilt University who has written about O'Connor. "This is why she's never been considered a feminist's feminist. A feminist would say: 'Well, why would she do that?'"

Rule of the Code #1: Care about no one. Feminists (even 75 year old ones) are not allowed to leave their jobs to take care of any family member. Thou shalt maintain your professional standing until you die.

Corollary to Rule of the Code #1: Men never care about other people, so why should we? Men would never retire from their jobs to take care of an ailing family member. Remember that.

Her public persona in Washington was maternal, nurturing, genteel, soft. She let her granddaughter write a book about her featuring a picture on the cover of the two of them holding a teddy bear. On her clerks' door she left a Xerox of her hand with a note that read "For a pat on the back, lean here."

Rule of the Code #2: Hate stuffed animals.

Corollary to Rule of the Code #2: Be hard; do not support anyone else.

Now, I am certainly not the softest gal on the block, but I would like to think I could keep my feminist union card if ever I chose to leave a job to take care of a lover in ill health. I also would like to maintain that card in the highly unlikely event that I had a grandchild and decided to pose with it and a teddy bear. Insinuating that O'Connor would never be embraced by feminists because of loving her husband or grandchildren is ridiculous.

Not all feminists are harsh, single-minded, and selfish. Sticking with one's job is also not harsh, single-minded, and selfish. Not all men are harsh, single-minded, and selfish. Articles written from such a perspective (even if in the Style section) perpetuate unhelpful stereotypes.

And if you believe that all feminists think alike and would define feminism in the same way, I invite you to my office some time. It's a supremely blissful environment with absolutely no conflict ever.