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July 31, 2006
YOU CAN DANCE IF YOU WANNA
Sunday afternoon I met my sister and newphew for a performance of A Mini-Tempest, a Shakespeare production for kids at The West Side Community Garden. I mentioned it last week [see SHAKESPEARE REDUCTO, 7/24/06]. The West Side Community Garden is a great venue for such a performance. The garden is set up as a circular amphiteather with a grass lawn at center, surrounded by a terrace of flowers, and then ringed with benches for an audience.
The best part of the show is that attending kids are invited to take part in some of the scenes themselves. The picture above shows the kids donning masks and dancing around as sprites to help the wood nymph Ariel (Miriam Lipner) cast a spell . There's a little drunkeness and swordplay in the plot with intimations of violence, but everything is played for comedic effect and I wouldn't hesitate taking any kid under the age of 10.
The show is free, although donations are greatly appreciated. Performances continue every Saturday and Sunday through August 20th and begin a little after 5 p.m. A larger version of the picture above can be viewed here.
Oh yeah, my friend Belle who played the sorcer Prospero's daughter Miranda was superb. Good job Belle!
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 4:05 PM | Culture & | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 30, 2006
PANIC ATTACKS
Unfortunately, I spent Friday evening in Bellevue Hospital's ER with a friend who was experiencing what turned out to be what doctors diagnosed as a panic attack.
It can happen anytime, anywhere — when you're alone, with others, at home, in public, even awakening you from a sound sleep. Suddenly, your heart begins to race, your face flushes and you experience shortness of breath. You feel dizzy, nauseated and out of control. Some people even feel like they're dying.
While panic disorders, or recurring incidents of panic attacks, can be caused by underlying physiological problems, isolated incidents can occur in almost any healthy person. I know many people who've suffered panic attacks over the past decade that can be incredibly terrifying. From my anecdotal observation, they tend to be induced by extended periods of anxiousness about one's job and or lifestyle and then triggered by shorter periods of physical exhaustion and stress. In these one-time incidents, they seem to me like the body and mind cooperating like a circuit breaker, strongly advising a sufferer to slow down, speed up, or simply make some adjustments in how they live.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 6:15 AM | Current Events | Comments (0) | TrackBack
SUBWAY PODCASTS
Given the amount of media coverage given to an apparent rise in iPod thefts on NYC subways, this may seem counterintuitive, but the MTA is now offering subscriptions to TransitTrax podcasts. The initiative offers users the ability to subscribe to a number of different program giving information on weekend service interruptions, construction news, safety information, and promotional offers. Conspicuously absent is a podcast about subway etiquette and behavior, e.g. don't stand the top of stairways when deciding which direction one wants to proceed in.
One has already been able to receive email updates on service advisories through the MTA's site for the last few months, and they're helpful to scroll through Friday afternoon so one isn't surprised later in the weekend when your train is rerouted three conections out of your way and you're trying to meet someone on a timely basis.
I'm a huge fan of the Trips123.com site, that allows one to time trips almost exactly, with connection information that is generally pretty reliable when taking weekend service disruptions into account.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 5:46 AM | NYC | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 28, 2006
YEAH, LIKE YOU'RE SO BUSY TONIGHT
Here's your big chance to be a patron of the arts on the cheap! An adorably cute and charming woman, Mollie, has a theater group called "The Mud Children Machine" and they're performing a play called "Remember Me" [I think] at the Black Box Theater space this evening. According to the very helpful young woman, Morgan, at the office of the Black Box, they have the space from 7pm-9pm, so show up before then. One of the cast members is Mariyah, a woman I know who is so delightful, she defies description. She's like a Bettie Page pinup crossed with the sweetest girl you ever met in high school. It's kind of nauseaous actually. I prefer to imagine such perfect women don't exist. Tickets to the show are only $5. Mariyah prefers lillies if you're going to start throwing flowers. The Black Box is at 440 Lafayette St., just south of St. Mark's Place and north of Cooper Square.
Last night, I plunged into midtown and the far West Side to watch my friend Belle do a reading of a farcical play. The downside was that she only had about two lines in an hour-and-a-half of play. The other downside was that I was the youngest person there by approximately 30 years. At one point, I thought an audience member in the front row was just overly agreeable with the dialogue. Then I realized she had a palsy. Aw, what are you gonna do?
Tomorrow, Belle takes on the much more meaty role of Miranda in a production of Shakespeare. It's the Mini-Tempest--adapted for kids! I love my friends. What a cool bunch of hot babes! I'm the luckiest idiot in NYC.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 9:38 AM | Culture & | Comments (0) | TrackBack
LIFE SHRINKS--AND THEN SOMETIMES, IT DOESN'T
Rupert Pole was erotic memoirist and novelist Anais Nin's second husband. She just forgot to get rid of her first husband first. Pole passed away this week in Silver Lake, CA at the age of 87. After first marrying a NYC banker, Hugh Guiler, Nin decided to go in the polar opposite direction with Pole, who was an actor and then a forest ranger. From Pole's obit in yesterday's New York Sun:
Nin conversed all evening with the stunningly handsome [sic, text breaks off here with no explanation] Not only did she find him physically irresistible, she was impressed by his emotional sensitivity and knowledge of Eastern philosphies. The night she met him, Nin, who was 44 to his 28, wrote in her diary: "Danger! He is probably homosexual!"To her vast relief, she soon discovered that Pole was not only thoroughly heterosexual but far more adept in bed than Hugh "Hugo" Guiler, the New York banker whom she had married in 1923. Pole thought Nin was divorced, and asked her to go west with him.
This is where it gets priceless. Anais Nin decided to keep both husbands and their respective marriages secret from each other. More from Pole's obit:
Both men apparently chose to believe her lies, which became so voluminous that she wrote them down on index cards and locked them in a box so that she could keep her stories straight. She referred to the web of lies as her "trapeze."
I know some whacked-out chicks, but that is just awesome!
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 7:48 AM | Books | Comments (0) | TrackBack
DEADWOOD MIGHT NOT BE FOR EVERYONE
The HBO series "Deadwood" is superlative tv in my mind. It has ruffled some feathers because of the excessively profane nature of its dialogue. The script is not blunt, however, rather featuring characters that speak in a ridiculously baroque and overmannered style, interspersed with aforementioned profanity.
Someone--Justin Schleigel--made a short film called "Deadwood Pancakes", parodying the show's dialogue. Here's a link to the film. Here's a transcription.
"Deadwood" Pancakes
Pancakes . . . BEFORE watching HBO's "Deadwood"[roommate stands in front of kitchen range with frying pan]
"Hey Schleigel! You want some pancakes?"
[man at table, cheerful]
"Oh yeah that'd be great! Can I get some butter and syrup?
[roommate, agreeably]
"You GOT it!"
Pancakes . . . AFTER HBO Series "Deadwood"
[roommate stands in front of kitchen range with frying pan]"Hey Schleigel! You want some pancakes?"
[man chewing furiously on toothpick at table]
"Well I hope within the confines of that most charitable fucking offer, you decide to provide me with the necessary peripherals and accompaniements that I might properly enjoy such a morning time fucking culinary work of fucking art, you stupid son of a bitch! Because if I am not provided with adequate peripherals to that morning time delight for both soul, body, and tatebuds, I shall smack you so fucking hard upside that stupid fucking gimp head of yours, as to knock your contact lens up in the front of your brain, providing you with the moment of fucking clarity in which you willl say out loud to yourself 'Why did I not provide this cocksucker with the syrup and or butter that he requested at the outset of this fucking breakfast endeavor?' You dumb son of a bitch!"
[roommate cheerfully]
"You GOT it! Cocksucker"
While this is a parody, it literally could have been lifted verbatim from one of "Deadwood"'s scripts.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 7:17 AM | Television | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 27, 2006
FORTUNATELY, A RARE OCCURENCE
NYC is a relatively safe place. Crime is down over the last decade. On a per capita basis, one could definitely do worse. Nonetheless, it's not Disney World. On a regular basis, I see inebriated women putting themselves at inordinate risk--not just by wandering off onto the street, but just by remaining by themselves alone and without anyone to look out for them. Last night, a stupid stupid mistake cost a girl her life:
Hugh and Candida Moore last saw their daughter on Monday night. Jennifer Moore had told her parents that she was seeing a movie with a friend, but police said she was actually clubbing at the Guest House, a popular Chelsea nightclub. Police said she left the bar at 2:30 a.m.
Moore and her friend went to the Pier 72 impound yard after Moore's car was towed. EMS was called to the tow yard for Moore's friend, who authorities said was intoxicated. Moore's friend apparently got sick and had to be taken by ambulance to St. Vincent's Hospital.
Detectives said Moore slipped away and ended up alone on the West Side Highway at about 5 a.m. According to witnesses, she was seen walking along the highway wearing a white miniskirt and black halter top. Police said she was intoxicated.
The New York Post reported Thursday that Moore called her boyfriend at about 5 a.m. to say she was lost. He told her to call a taxi. But when the boyfriend tried to call her back a short time later, there was no answer, the newspaper said.
They found her body in a dumpster today in New Jersey. If any kids read this site, let me give you a tip: definitely getting in trouble with the cops is much better than maybe being murdered and dropped in a dumpster.
I make it a practice to always walk female friends back to their front doors, even if it's only 4 blocks. That's not just good manners; it's good sense.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 1:04 PM | NYC | Comments (0) | TrackBack
TARNISHED VICTORY
Last week, I wrote about American pro cyclist Floyd Landis, his disastrous collapse in the mountains of the Tour de France, and then a comeback that should rank in the greatest moments in sports history ever and a performance that defies belief. Two days later, Landis went on to win the Yellow Jersey of the Tour in a time trial and then the Tour itself a day later. Landis's win was perhaps the most incredible ever in the near-100-year history of the race and the American solidified himself as a legend with this one single month's performance.
In a sport plagued with doping scandals, however, Landis may be stripped of his Tour championship after testing positive for steroids.
Tour de France champion Floyd Landis tested positive for high levels of testosterone during the race, his Phonak team said Thursday on its Web site.Phonak said Landis would ask for an analysis of his backup "B" sample "to prove either that this result is coming from a natural process or that this is resulting from a mistake."
The statement came a day after the UCI, cycling's world governing body, said an unidentified rider had failed a drug test during the Tour.
And the statement came just four days after Landis stood on the victory podium on the Champs-Elysees, succeeding seven-time winner Lance Armstrong as an American winner in Paris.
The Swiss-based Phonak team said it was notified by the UCI on Wednesday that Landis' sample showed "an unusual level of testosterone/epitestosterone" when he was tested after stage 17 of the race last Thursday.
Landis has been suspended by his team pending the results. If the second sample confirms the initial finding, he will be fired from the team, Phonak said.
Thanks to my friend Sean for sending along this news item. I'll repeat what I told him:
The only reason I'm going to give Landis the benefit of the doubt in this case is that cyclists don't regularly dope with testosterone. That's a long-term muscle builder that would be useful in training, but doesn't really make sense to use as a performance enhancer during a race. Cyclists generally use Epoetin, a blood thickener created for cancer patients that increases the number of red blood cells, allowing more oxygen to be carried by hemoglobin and immediately increasing endurance and physical ability. With a degenerative hip condition, I can see why Landis might be taking something testosterone-based for medical reasons; it just seems incredibly stupid and unhelpful. If his hip was inflamed, I can see him getting a shot of cortisone or something, which is a steroid. That strikes me less as cheating than palliative medical care.
Landis's own mother is less equivocal:
Arlene Landis, his mother, said Thursday that she wouldn't blame her son if he was taking medication to treat the pain in his injured hip, but "if it's something worse than that, then he doesn't deserve to win.""I didn't talk to him since that hit the fan, but I'm keeping things even keel until I know what the facts are," she said in a phone interview from her home in Farmersville, Pa. "I know that this is a temptation to every rider but I'm not going to jump to conclusions ... It disappoints me."
I watched Eight Men Out this morning. The harsh penalties for cheating dished out by baseball commissioner Judge Kenesaw "Mountain" Landis to Chicago's "Black Sox" seem more appropriate every year. Is that ironic that the cyclist and the commissioner have the same surname, 90 years distant?
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 12:03 PM | Sports | Comments (0) | TrackBack
"THAT'S YOU ALL OVER TOM; A LIE AND NO HEART"
(Greatest Movie Ever)
While we're reminiscing, let's discuss Miller's Crossing. I've met a lot of people over the past five years who read this site, yet who I've failed to sing the praises of this movie to. And it must be praised regularly; it is my FAVORITE movie.
Not many people have seen Miller's Crossing. That is astounding, as it features an Oscar-winning cast, was written, directed, and produced by Oscar winners, and is possibly the greatest-written movie ever.
Miller's Crossing is a mob movie starring Gabriel Byrne. His co-stars are Marcia Gay Harden, Steve Buscemi, John Turturro, Albert Finney, Jon Polito and Frances McDormand (with a small uncredited role). Set in the 1920s, Miller's Crossing is one of those definitive movies that intertwine friendship, loyalty, betrayal, romance, treachery, violence, virtue, and personal weakness into a perfect storm of conflict and dispute.
If you don't get everything the first time you watch it, go ahead and watch it again. I've seen the movie about a hundred times, have the script committed to memory, and still pick up small plot items now and again. The story is labrynthine, but the depths are worth it. The movie's rich like chocolate cake.
If you want me to keep my mouth shut, it's gonna cost you some dough. I figure a thousand bucks is reasonable, so I want two.
The shit is hardboiled and possibly the most undervalued piece of film ever. The best present I ever received was a membership to the Lincoln Center Film Society, that was featuring a large screening of Miller's Crossing, with a reception afterwards where Gabriel Byrne ate appetizers and sipped wine. I don't think I've ever been happier.
After slapping his girlfriend when she taunts him "You think you've raised hell, haven't you?":
"Sister, when I've raised hell, you'll know it!"
She strolls out of the ladies room, trailing her stoll.
God, I could watch that movie a million times.
Posted by Lexiphane at 3:36 AM | Film | Comments (0) | TrackBack
NOT SO LONG AGO . . .
Back in 1985, Don Johnson and Phillip Michael Thomas made a followup to the movie-length premiere of "Miami Vice", the tv show, in which they travelled to NYC to avenge the near-fatal shooting of their fellow cop Gina and capture some Colombian coke dealers.
The film ends with a shootout in the plaza of the WTC, with Crockett running over landfill that would eventually become the World Financial Center before he imporobably shoots a helicopter out of the sky with a 10mm caliber pistol.
"Miami Vice II: The Prodigal Son" stands out for a few reasons. Magician Penn Jillette is a cast member and gets murdered. NYC and lots of it. The Twin Towers are part of the climax. And some of the most ridiculous dialogue one has ever uttered onscreen.
In the penultimate scene, Crockett and Tubbs go to confront a cadaverous-looking financier, who is a ridiculous parody/stereotype of a nefarious Jewish Banker. While threatening the cops, he lays out his sinister plans. In honor of the release of the new Miami Vice movie, I will share that scene today, as I committed it to memory:
NB (nefarious banker): Money is a commodity, like oil or water. Those of us who have it, can make more of it, by loaning it to those who don't. And that American dollar is the best brand there is in the world.Not so long ago, we loaned A LOT of money to our friends in Latin America. We are talking about HUNDREDS of MILLIONS of dollars. Now, they AREN't going to repay that selling straw bags and clay pots.
If our Latin American friends default, we would be decimated. And we ARE America. We ARE the entire free world. When we sneeze [snap] the WHOLE WORLD catches cold.
That's why, it's VERY VERY important that we nurture and protect our Latin brother's MAJOR cash crops.
Tubbs [drumming his fingers]: Yeah, especially the ones he measures in kilos, right?
NB: Are you sure you wouldn't like a drink?
Crockett: What I want to know is when murder and mayhem became footnotes on a balance sheet? When did a Wall St. address start running interference for a pair of bloodthirsty Indians?! You're going down pal!
[Crockett either is demonstrating his stone deafness or his complete lack of intelligence. He just told you everything moron! Also, you just walked into the Chrysler Building; that's not a Wall St. address.]NB: I don't think that's going to happen.
Tubbs: Is that how it goes now? A few Ivy League buddies get to talking with a little buttoned-down conversation and before you know it, a pair of South Dade cops find themselves on the bad side of a bust with no backup?
NB: Look! All you need to know is that we're on a very big boat. Why rock it?
Crockett: "Look Pal! I don't give a damn if it's the USS Enterprise. It's our job to rock it! And if it sinks, so what!?
NB: The door's over there. You can show yourselves out.
Crockett: I know I can't touch you. Too many friends; too many politics. The one thing I do know pal, is you're dirty ace! And some day, I'll nail you.
That is so sad that I remember that. Please don't ask me to recite the script from Miller's Crossing. 'Cause I'll do it.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 2:41 AM | Television | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 26, 2006
IN A WORLD WHERE DOMINION IS KING, AT A TIME OF UPHEAVAL AND CHANGE
Yesterday marked the release of the concert film Awesome; I Fuckin' Shot That on DVD. If you're a Beastie Boys fan, run--don't walk--to your nearest video store. "Awesome . . ." was shot in October '04 at the Beastie Boys' final show at Madison Square Garden, in NYC. I'll go ahead and understate the situation: IT. WAS. FUCKING. AWESOME!. The ultimate NYC boys wrapped up their NYC-tribute tour in the heart of the city, and they freaking KILLED! When they busted out "An Open Letter to NYC", I don't think I've ever seen a crowd go so absolutely insane.
I saw the concert movie in a theater and the reaction was barely less restrained. Goddamn, my heart was thrumming for about 2 days after the actual concert. I think my friend John is still feeling thready, two years later.
Here's a link to the trailer, which includes the most ironically overwrought voiceover ever. It is hilarious.
Voiceover:
In a WORLD where DOMINION is king
At a TIME of upheaval and change
And truth and justice are JUST A DREAM
Only the STRONGEST rise to the challenge
Only the pure-of-heart- can SIEZE THE MOMENT
And FORGE DREAMS into reality
It really is one of the funniest trailers ever.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 12:38 PM | Film | Comments (0) | TrackBack
UNINTENTIONALLY OBVIOUS HEADLINES FROM THE TIMES
Sometimes the obvious is hilarious. Last night I just think the overnight Times editor was jerking us around:
Hussein Says He Prefers Firing Squad
Yeah, probably.
Senate Removes Abortion Option for Young Girls
Are they sure?.
Diplomats Back Troops, but Not Cease-fire, for Mideast
"How do I say this diplomatically? I hope our guys completely slaughter your guys."
Reading the paper shouldn't be this unintentionally amusing.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 11:17 AM | Current Events | Comments (0) | TrackBack
RIDE ON WITHOUT SELLING YOUR CRAZY DIAMONDS
The MTA is considering cutting NYers a break and not raising fares, again.
Good news for straphangers trying to hold on to their hard-won cash: The fare hike the MTA was planning next year could be put on the back-burner thanks to an unforeseen budget surplus.
Unforseen? This is the agency that recently found a few hundred million dollars on its books like something it accidentally dropped out of its pants pocket, while crying poverty to the public it was screwing by forcing a strike by the TWU five days before Christmas. At this point, MTA execs should be picking up NYers in front of their homes and ferrying them to Atlantic City, where they will gamble city dollars to their own entertainment and benefit--and get paid for it!
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 11:03 AM | NYC | Comments (0) | TrackBack
"SORRY, I'VE GOT A DATE WITH A HOT PIECE OF GLASS"
That was my response to a woman who offered me a second drink the other night. What does it mean? It means that I've got a friend that moved into an apartment whose owner temporarily left his five-foot plasma screen tv with Bose sound system behind.
From atop her loft, Kendra said "Hey! I could watch TV from up here!" I answered "You could watch this bitch from across the street!" I currently watch a 20-year-old 15" piece of crap in my apartment. I don't know if I'm happy or tragically wounded to have been exposed to the state of the art.
James: you have a wonderfully delightful girlfriend, three well-behaved and awesome dogs, and a big house upstate. Leave the TV; take the cannoli. It would make one--this--man incredibly happy.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 9:38 AM | Television | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 25, 2006
"I SORT OF HEARD A BOOM"
Sometimes I wish wish I was a teenager when 9/11 occurred. By all accounts it should be more life-altering, but there really isn't anything you can't shake off when you're a kid.
"I'm like, 'I want my mommy.' And you see people covered in the dust and it's like this tsunami of smoke coming towards you, which is the most surreal thing I have ever experienced in my life," says Simmons.
Teenagers are invulnerable; only they know that.
"Surreal" is also one of those words that college freshmen love to use. There was nothing surreal that day. That was reality smacking us in the face; hard. The better term would be "visceral" and I imagine one could throw a "horrifying" or "inhunan" into the mix. Existentialism took a break that day.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 7:16 AM | NYC | Comments (0) | TrackBack
IN THE HOUSE
To get a good sense of how bad NYC was hurting at the beginning of the 1980s, consider the Alexander Hamilton U.S. Customs House. Built on the exact site of the original fort that the Dutch constructed when colonizing Manhattan, the Customs House was erected on the designs of Cass Gilbert at the start of the 20th Century. It's at the foot of Broadway, which was actually a Native American trail before it became a thoroughfare. Before there was a federal income tax, tariffs or "customs", were the primary source of revenue for the United States. With NYC as its most productive port, the Customs House was the change purse of the nation.
Nonetheless, and despite its architectural significance, the Customs House stood vacant--VACANT!!--for nearly a decade after Customs moved to the WTC. Developers wanted to tear the building down and build some perhaps godawful generic bank skyscraper right next to the Bowling Green.
As much as I hate market interference, thank God the Feds stepped in and prevented the Custom House's destruction. The Smithsonian installed a Native American Museum in the space and the majority of it is occupied by a bankruptcy court.
The main attraction is the rotunda of the building, located on the second floor. Wide open and apexed with a dome skylight, the conical ceiling features a series of eight polychromatic paintings by Reginald Marsh (1898-1954). This means he was only in his teens or 20s when he executed these works! They are portrayals of contemporary shipping, interspersed with portraits of famous explorers.
The Native American Museum? Eh, it's okay. There's a display of artisanal pottery and then a gallery of modern clothing and art by a Native American, but that's really not my thing. The real attraction is the building itself. Eyes oriented towards detail will be well distracted for a good while. Multiple pictures available here.
NB: One of the highlights of my visit was while staring at some of the pottery. A youngster next to me liked one of the pieces and asked her dad "Is this for sale?" He told her to save it for the gift shop.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 5:49 AM | NYC | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 24, 2006
GOVERNORS ISLAND
A few weeks ago, I took a trip to Governors Island. From the few people I've mentioned it to, a surprising number of NYers don't even know the island exists, which is amazing, since the island sits only a few hundred yards south of the southern tip of Manhattan.
Before NYC was even New Amsterdam, Governors Island was settled by the Dutch in 1637. They later moved to the larger island to the north, now Manhattan. The small island became a military installation in 1800 to protect NY's harbor from military incursions by the British. It nearly doubled in size during the 20th Century as it was augmented with landfill from the excavation of of the East Side subway. There was even once an airfield on the southern side the island.
After being decommissioned as a military base, Governors Island served as a Coast Guard post before being sold to NY State for $1 in 1997. It is now landmarked as a National Monument.
Governors Island is a metropolitan gem--an oasis of history, tranquility, and stunning harbor views that is ridiculously undervisited. One can take a ferry trip out there on the weekends for free and, I have to say, it is one of the best daytrips available in the city. A large number of photos are available at my flckr site here.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 6:45 PM | NYC | Comments (0) | TrackBack
SHAKESPEARE REDUCTO
While it may seem like my friend Belle occupies a good amount of time in an ongoing bitch-fest at this site [see DOUBLE-TAKE ADVERTISING AND THE BEAUTY OF SUBTLE GRAF], telling me I'm an idiot jackass is just her hobby. In her real time, she's an actress. Currently she's in a production of The Tempest--for kids!
The show is presented by DramaTune in association with The West Side Community Garden and written by William Shakespeare. The hour-long production was adapted and directed by Morna Murphy Martell. Unsurprisingly, Belle plays the character of Miranda (she's basically the star), the daughter of magician Prospero, who shipwrecks a bunch of unlucky bastards on a deserted island. "A Mini-Tempest" is a kid-friendly production that is performed every Saturday and Sunday at 5pm through August 20th at the West Side Community Garden on West 89th St. between Columbus and Amsterdam Aves. It only lasts an hour and is free, if you have kids that get antsy.
For more information, call 212-245-7498 or 212-316-5490.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 6:49 AM | Culture & | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 23, 2006
THE IRISH ARE PSYCHOS
Whatever the fate of its team, Notre Dame University does not want all comers to their football games. In perhaps one of the strangest marketing situations in sports marketing ever, the university actually polices second- and third-person sites to prevent resale of their tickets.
To get a ticket to a home game--which I now feel incredibly priveleged to have attended--one must pay a large bounty just to be entered into a lottery. If one is selected, one may purchase, for a relatively nominal fee, a seat. Here's the catch: if you try to re-sell your hard-to-find-ticket, you will be caught and banned for life from ever attending an ND game again.
The Notre Dame ticket office actively monitors and enforces the ticket resale policy (link: http://und.cstv.com/tickets/tickets-resale.html) in an effort to curb resale for profit and ticket fraud. More than 1,700 tickets have been suspended or revoked in the past three years. Enforcement methods include active monitoring of more than 20 Internet ticket resale Web sites, periodic purchasing of tickets from these entities, undercover game day operations, as well as follow-up on all leads provided to the ticket office. Suspected resale violation information can be sent to: seller1@nd.edu.
This type of command-and-control economics rubs me the wrong way. Ticket scalping is market economics at its best. Still, I have to admire ND for undertaking such a psychotically paranoid labor-intensive ticket monitoring enterprise. With guaranteed sellout crowds in perpetuity, the school is trying to guarantee the demographic diversity of its home crowds, rather than having them overcrowded with fat rich alumni exclusively. Perhaps that's why ND has such a resilient and loyal fan base, even when they suck for a decade and running [whoops! sorry guys.]
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 9:57 AM | Sports | Comments (0) | TrackBack
LE MAILLOT ROUGE, BLANC, ET BLEU
The maillot jaune (Yellow Jersey) remains in the hands of an American at the end of this year's Tour de France. Floyd Landis did the impossible yet expected during yesterday's time trial, on the heels of the greatest comeback in Tour history. Landis finished yesterday's 35 mile time trial 1:29 ahead of Spaniard Oscar Pereiro, giving him a :59 second overall lead. The final stage is largely ceremonial and as I write this, most riders seem relaxed and happy to be finishing the race. Only sprinters are anxious about winning the sprint down the Champs d'Elysee in front of a crowd of thousands.
Congratulations to Floyd Landis. You are now entrenched as one of the greatest performers in Tour history. Rightfully so.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 9:18 AM | Sports | Comments (0) | TrackBack
DOUBLE-TAKE ADVERTISING AND THE BEAUTY OF SUBTLE GRAF
Side-of-the-bus ads have been the norm in NYC for the last decade or so. It's a good source of revenue for the city and while some bitch that it over-commercializes urban life, well, those people need a hobby. I was walking down 2nd Ave. two weeks ago and saw this on the side of a bus:
Here's a larger version. What was it about this ubiquitous bus-side adver that made me stop dead in my tracks? Yeah yeah, hot chick, scantily clad, blah blah blah. I can see that without turning my head in NYC. But is that a nipple in a bus-side ad? WTF?! Let's look closer:
We've come a long way since Giuliani-Time! OK, perhaps I'm overinterested in boobs, but I was gonna get to the bottom of this, aside from just taking pictures. I examined the side of the bus, not believing that the MTA would authorize this type of advertising on a city vehicle. Upon examination, I found that this was very subtle grafitti.
I hate grafitti. I think its practitioners are insecure adolescents with ego problems--whatever their ages--who should be pilloried publicly. This, however, is freaking ART! There's no ego whatsoever. It's simply the beauty of the public doing a double-take. In my case, documenting it beyond reasonable expectation. Whoever the artist was in this case: Well done my friend; well done.
UPDATE: My comments are currently disabled, but certain VIPs (i.e. hot, smart women) get theirs posted:
Graf artists are real artists. Don't be so naive to
[some spellchecks made in the original to account for the late hour of posting; any solecisms are mine -Lexiphane]
say they aren't. Spray is a valid medium and the
canvas and more importantly its audience are NOT to be
underestimated. it just so happens that the public
nature of graf or tag art allows you visual to a lot
of the untalent taggers as well. if every artist got
to hang his work in the Met, the NEA would not exist.
bitch. -Belle
RESPONSE: The reason I hate graf is that the MAJORITY of its practitioners are untalented hacks, who offer little artistic merit. The medium also involves defacing private property and I've stopped and talked with supers and building owners early in the morning as they scrubbed away at their shops and buildings trying to get rid of some idiot's "art"; they were not pleased patrons. Here's a pic I took this spring down in DC at a show documenting the art and practice of graf. Here's more useful graf being employeed as a neighborhood PSA. I'm a big fan of artist James De La Vega, whose primary medium is storefronts and buildings in NYC.
UPDATE II: Reader Belle responds in kind:
okay see... that first link was excellent. badass. the
second was not funny david. im being serious, bitch.
(but if you like your own link) you need to see the
book about Katrina New Orleans Refridgerators. Its
great!
back to the point... I am very serious about graf
artists. I think you should post an apology. because,
and I RE_ITERATE, most artists who try to paint SUCK
and dont make it in the Met. and most singers and
guitarist are fucking terrible and don't make it
anywhere except the local coffee shop and dive bars,
where I sometimes have to listen to their miserable
dribblle in my head!! something I definately consider
a violation of my private property, but I dont say
anything. I do try to scrub it out, but I can't
usually.
I'm not talking to you till you make me feel like you
love Graf.
RESPONSE II: I agree completely that most graf artists suck; they are very bad untalented hacks who will never come close to having their pieces shown in a museum. I'm glad we've found some common ground. Does their mediocrity or complete lack of talent give them the right to shove their crappy art in my face by defacing private property? One is often forced to listen to bad musicians warble or strum away--don't even get me started on poets--at open mic nights, but that's different from them inviting themselves into your living room at 3am and forcing you to listen to shitty ballads about ex-girlfriends. I think you'd be able to ask them to leave in that case; in fact, I think you'd probably be able to shoot them and face few legal repercussions.
So, are you getting an apology Belle? Hells No! I am a HUGE fan of public art, and if someone wants to commission an artist to decorate the side of his or her building in spray paint, marker, or Play-Doh, I say power to them. If one is an untalented fool, however, who couldn't get their work exhibited in a mental ward on his best day, that's no excuse to use private property as your own personal canvas without the owner's permission.
Still feel like not talking to me? Bring that shit babe. Or . . . don't bring it. Whatever! You know I'm right.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 12:05 AM | Culture & | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 22, 2006
NOT MANUFACTURER RECOMMENDED
Above is a picture taken Thursday afternoon on 35th St. and between 2nd and 3rd Aves. While it looks like these two child seats are mounted on the bed-cover of this pickup truck, the owners were actually just placing them there while they changed a tire and got ready to get back on the road. I asked them if I could take a picture because I knew that it looked ridiculous, but seemed really funny and, because they were southern and gracious, they said "go ahead."
The crazy thing is, I think the kid sitting in the cab of the pickup seemed pretty psyched that he might actually get to ride in the back of the truck. Who wouldn't?!
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 11:42 AM | Lexiphotos | Comments (0) | TrackBack
FINDERS LOSERS
Gothamist pointed out one of the more dubious law enforcement forays currently in operation in NYC. Operation "Lucky Bag" involves cops placing shopping carts and bags or purses on subway platforms unattended. If someone comes upon the items and picks them up, the cops swoop in and arrest them for petit larceny.
This raises two salient questions. The first is, how can one steal something left in a public place with no apparent owner nearby? Isn't that more like petit finding. The second question is what about good samaritans?
A few years ago, I was on my way to a b-day party with a friend. My hands were full with about three different bags and I was totally occupied in conversation with my friend. Stupidly, I left my briefcase on the platform as we stepped onto the train. I didn't realize what I'd done until a stop later and I quickly hopped on a train going in the opposite direction, back to the site of my idiocy. Thank goodness, some nice person had picked up my briefcase and brought it upstairs to the token clerk, who had it propped in her booth's window. Nowadays, that good samaritan that saved my bacon might be arrested for touching my unattended bag.
Devil's advocates might say that instead of picking up a bag to bring it to a station agent, one should just go tell them there is an unattended bag on the platform and let them handle it. That sounds like a good compromise until you learn that this leads to--and this is required--the shutting down of the station, calling in of the bomb squad, and total clusterfucking of everyone's commute.
Lesson: if you see a lost item on the subway and would like to turn it in with the hopes that it eventually gets back to its rightful owner, don't do it. Leave it for bums and thieves to paw through and curse the owner for being so careless. You might just get arrested otherwise.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 10:04 AM | NYC | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 21, 2006
PHENOMENAL COLLAPSE AND THEN COMEBACK IN THE MOUNTAINS
(photo by Edward Wyatt)
I haven't been following this year's Tour de France as closely this summer as I have in previous years, but here is the headline and lede from an article on the Tour from yesterday's New York Sun:
Landis Helplessly Watches As His Tour Slips Away
Cannes, France -- If Floyd Landis planned to lose the yellow jersey on the second Alpine stage in order to ease his Phonake team's burden, he did that successfully yesterday, and then some. The American totally fell apart on the final climb of Stage 16 of the Tour de France, losing eight minutes to the new leader, Oscar Pereiro of Spain. Barring a blistering attack today, a top finish on Saturday's time trial, and lots of luck, Landis's Tour hopes, which appeared golden just a day ago, are over.
Landis slipped to 11th in the overall standings by the end of the stage and 8:08 behind the yellow jersey leader Pereiro, an almost insurmountable burden to overcome this late in the Tour.
I opened up The New York Times today, however, to read this:
Landis Climbs Back Into Contention
MORZINE, France, July 20 — Lance Armstrong’s seven-year reign as Tour de France champion was replete with so many extraordinary feats that cycling rose to unprecedented levels of popularity, capturing the attention of many people who had never followed the prestigious three-week journey through France and some neighboring countries.
But many longtime devotees of professional cycling said they had never seen a performance — from Armstrong, from the legendary Eddy Merckx or from any other cyclist — like the one produced by Floyd Landis on Thursday in southeastern France.
With a blistering 80-mile attack over three mammoth Alpine passes, Landis won the final mountain stage of this year’s Tour by nearly six minutes, regaining much of the time he lost when he had a near-total loss of energy on a steep, final climb Wednesday.
No less an expert than the longtime Tour director, Jean-Marie Leblanc, called Landis’s performance “the best stage I have ever followed.”
Landis is now in third overall, only 30 seconds behind yellow jersey wearer Pereiro and 18 seconds behind the overall second-place rider. Tomorrow, the three riders--all within 30 seconds of each other--are competing in a 35 mile time trial that could decide the final outcome of the Tour. With the retirement of Lance Armstrong and his string of seven consecutive Tour victories, another American is on the verge of implanting himself in the lore of Tour history as accomplishing one of the greatest comebacks of all time.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 1:12 PM | Sports | Comments (0) | TrackBack
"IT WAS SCARY", HE SAID, "AND I LEFT MY CHEESECAKE"
Oh the horror, the horror. There was a fire at the famed Carnegie Deli in midtown yesterday evening, filling the dining area with smoke and causing customers to flee to the street.
The blaze began at about 5 p.m., when an electrical cable blew up, fire department Acting Battalion Chief Mike Meyer said. It was under control about 30 minutes later.
The Carnegie Delicatessen & Restaurant, a block east of the Ed Sullivan Theater, where "The Late Show with David Letterman" tapes, was to be closed for a few days so it could be recertified by the Board of Health and restocked with fresh food.
I'm suspecting an act of sabotage by the new Junior's, recently opened in Times Square.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 1:01 PM | Food & Drink , NYC | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 19, 2006
FLOWER POWER FOR CABS
(A classic yellow checker cab spotted on 43rd St. earlier this summer)
Yellow Taxis in NYC will take part in a cool-sounding public arts project beginning late next year.
Starting next year, psychedelic flowers will grow on thousands of taxis, adding a new coat to the distinctive yellow.
The privately-funded project called “Garden In Transit” will mark the 100th anniversary of the first metered taxi.
The cabs will display large, colorful flower decals painted by school-age children and volunteers from throughout the city. Many of the kids who will draw the flowers are in the hospital or are disabled, says the founder of the coordinating group.
The author of the NY1 story about the taxis describes cabs as being "bright yellow." Actually, NYC cabs haven't been what you could describe as bright yellow for about a decade. I'm colorblind, but can still tell that recent paint jobs are a more subdued yellow with almost an orange tint to them.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 11:41 AM | NYC | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 17, 2006
HOT TIME, SUMMER IN THE CITY
(Mister Senor Love Daddy)
MISTER SEÑOR LOVE DADDY
Doing da ying and yang da flip and
flop da hippy and hoppy
(he yodels)
Yo da lay he hoo. I have today's
forecast.
(he screams)
HOT!
Sam Jackson wasn't kidding as Mister Senor Love Daddy: "Y'all need to chill the f**k out!" The mercury's supposed to top 100 degrees Fahrenheit today and that means 20 degrees hotter on underground subway platforms.
Heatwaves are no joke. During the summer of 1995, approximately a half thousand deaths were linked to high temperatures in Chicago. The young, elderly, and corpulent are expecially vulnerable. If you feel you are in danger, find a local cooling center here. When cooling centers may not be nearby, subway cars can be surprisingly comfortable when adequately air conditioned. And then there's always movie theaters, which give a few hours of reprieve for $10.75.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 9:53 AM | NYC | Comments (0) | TrackBack
BLUE AND GOLD AND SOUTH BEND
Very early pre-season polls are putting the Irish of Notre Dame at #3 for the '06-'07 football season. Are the Blue & Gold on the verge of a national championship? Eh, they may be only half way there, under the coaching of Charlie Weis. It may take the addition of high school phenom quarterback Jimmy Clausen to seal the deal, although a number of similar stars have melted under the bright lights of South Bend's stadium. Bandwagoners may want to start limbering up, however.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 4:56 AM | Sports | Comments (0) | TrackBack
OH YEAH BABY
Real Estate is the porn of NYC; that's the cliche anyway. People talk about the size of other's apartments the way other other national residents talk about bodily dimensions. "His is humongous! He's got a 1,200 square foot one bedroom!" Tales of over-sized reasonably-priced apartments are exchanged in the same breathless tones of great sex. I wish I was exagerrating.
In a print advertisement for the Link condominiums, also in Midtown, a red-lipped topless woman (only a sliver of one breast was visible) is shown sitting in an apartment while a tattoo is applied to her exposed back.A glossy advertisement for the Altair 20 in Chelsea has lush greenery framing a shower stall and a svelte, wet, naked woman with a strategically positioned banner that reads “To the Altair 20 Rainforest.”
Some of the advertisements for new condominiums this year look more like ads for condoms, and that has caused more than a few eyes to linger on traditionally staid real estate listings. These provocative advertisements have also raised eyebrows among real estate and advertising professionals who say sex has never been germane to real estate marketing the way it is, say, to music and underwear.
In my opinion, this is overkill. It takes little more than images of a doorman, elevator, and river views to get NYC residents properly hot and bothered. On a good day, anyone can get laid or fall in love too easily. It takes a miracle of society and nature to fall into a rent-controlled apartment.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 4:26 AM | NYC | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 16, 2006
GREATEST TEAM EVER?
The YES Network is great because it allows one to view baseball games with the benefit of hindsight. Today, Game 4 of the '98 World Series was re-telecast with original commentary. A few things stood out: 1) the '98 Yanks were possibly the greatest team in baseball ever. 2) No one knew that at the time.
I often scoff silently at the Yankees announcers because as I'm scoring games I realzie the info they're supplying is totally wrong. This was confirmed on a long-term standing during today's rebroadcast. Joe Buck, Tim McCarver, and Bob Breneley were announcing the game. One of the things they helpfully noted was
"This could ver well be the last game Bernie Williams plays for the Yankees."
Bernie still plays for the Yanks in 2006.
Another insightful observation was that there were "no true superstars" on the winningest Yankee team ever. Rookie Derek Jeter was starting at shortstop and Mariano Rivera was the Yank's reliever. Both are destined for the Hall of Fame, with a bullet. Announcers are full of shit.
One of the most curious things about Game 4 of the '98 series was that in the 9th inning, rookie relieving pitcher faced his cousin, Ruben Rivera, who was pinch-hitting for Orlando Hernandez, at the bottom of the 9th inning. Mariano allowed one of only two hits out of five batters to his cousin, giving him a single to right field.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 2:14 PM | Sports | Comments (0) | TrackBack
DO YOU RECOGNIZE THIS MAN?
(A tragic man broken by a gambling addiction)
You should. Last night, YES replayed game four of the '96 World Series that took place at Fulton County Stadium in Atlanta, where the Braves met the Yankees. The man pictured above is Cecil Fielder, the Yanks' first baseman, who singled once in game four, but contributed two uncredited RBIs off an E9, walked once, and was put out twice. New York went on to win the game in extra innings after overcoming a six-run deficit. It was part of the team's first World Series victory in, I believe, 18 years.
The Yankees have been so good for so long in modern history, that it is difficult to remember their nearly two-decade-long dry streak, when the team couldn't buy a championship for their lives. Steinbrenner may now be considered an evil genius, on par with Dick Cheney, but there was a long period when he was considered an errant interfering fool, whose death was wished for daily.
1996 was the season that I graduated from college. Derek Jeter was a rookie. Darryl Strawberry was a reprieved right-fielder getting another chance from Steinbrenner. Paul O'Neill was still a player getting put in to pinch run for catcher Joe Girardi. Only Jeter and Bernie Williams remain on the Yankees' roster, which explains why Bernie gets standing ovations everytime he comes to bat and why I'll be scared as hell when Jeter retires.
The Yanks are 2 1/2 games out of first in the AL East, which they'll have to win if they want to see the playoffs. They play Chicago this afternoon at 1:15 pm in the Bronx.
NB: A friend told me yesterday that Notre Dame is approaching a #1 pre-season ranking as their team matures under Charlie Weis and with the addition of some spectacular recruits. Damnit!
NB II: After Boston's diastrous road trip to Oakland and the Yanks' sweep of the White Sox, the Bombers are only a half game out of first place in the AL East and three games behind Chicago for the wild card.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 11:14 AM | Sports | Comments (0) | TrackBack
BLUE & GREY & BLACK
A few blocks from lobbyist's row, K Street, and in a town nicknamed Chocolate City for the predominance of black votes and political power--locally anyway--the neighborhood of Georgetown is seen as a tony haven of white privelege. There's a reason the Metro doesn't make a stop in the most socially active part of DC. For decades, Georgetown's residents have been worried that public transit accessibility would make the area a magnet for "undesirables." And so, the neighborhood became a playground for the politically connected, political office holders (Senator Kennedy lived there before he became president), and thousands of Georgetown University students, who would rather throw themselves down the Exorcist steps than take a bus or cab to anywhere in the SouthEast of the District.
The Washington Post has an interesting article this Sunday, pointing out that Georgetown was historically an African-American neighborhood.
Yet so obscured has this history become that not even most Washingtonians are aware of it. Nor are they aware of the flourishing black community, mostly descended from those slaves, that once occupied a large portion of Georgetown -- until a combination of legislative, social and economic pressures gradually forced nearly all the black people out, turning the neighborhood into the wealthy, effectively all-white enclave it is today.
Jeez, even my few years as an undergrad brought to my attention that Georgetown was historically a black neighborhood. WaPo writers need to get out more. Unironically, it was financial disaster when the Potomac silted up, then federal legislation that drove blacks out of the neighborhood in the 1950s via "historical preservation" and gentrification. A few remnants of Georgetown's African-American roots remain. One is the Duke Ellington School of the Performing Arts on R St. Despite it's somewhat shameful history, Georgetown is the gem of our nation's capital. Tree-lined cobblestone streets make it one of the greatest college towns ever. Walking its streets are magical. I highly recommend visiting.
NB: Georgetown University was formed in 1789 in response to anti-Catholic sentiments by many Ivy League colleges. Despite anti-Semetic acts of jackassery by some students in recent years, the Jesuits and the University remain committed to the mission of religious toleration that the school was founded upon. When most Ivy League universities had anti-Jewish admission codes, Georgeotwn stood as a haven of higher learning for all, regardless of their heritage.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 6:21 AM | Current Events | Comments (0) | TrackBack
RETURN OF THE NYC MATINEE
(A good reason to get up before noon)
I don't know what the rest of the country is charged for movie theater tickets, but some of you may be appalled to know that Gotham residents have to pay $10.75 for a first run theater ticket. In a surprise move, however, the AMC chain is instituting a new pricing policy, in which tickets to movies starting before 12 p.m. are now only $6. With kids on summer vacation, this is the greatest thing a theater corporation has done for famililes in a decade.
I can't say personally because I haven't seen it yet, but I've talked to a half-dozen people who've seen Pirates of the Caribbean II and their praise has been uniform. Myself, I would go see a three hour badly lit movie of Keira Knightley knitting a brown sweater, so I may have to check Pirates out.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 5:36 AM | Film | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 15, 2006
IT COULD BE WORSE, YOU COULD BE IN BOSTON
(A recent renovation of The Met involved getting rid of the banners that unfortunately ubiquitously malign many museum facades)
With the raising of the suggested admission price to The Metropolitan Museum of Art on 82nd St. and 5th Ave. to $20, The New York Times carried out an experiment in impecunity--offering only $.50 for admission, or 2 1/2% of the suggested donation.
In truth, there was not much noticeable scorn. There was, instead, that brand of aggressive disregard particular to New York that is sometimes much more effective in evoking shame and extracting money. The first clerk who was approached, a large man with a goatee, never even looked up from his screen when asked.“It’s just suggested,” he mumbled.
“What if I only have 50 cents?” he was asked.
“Uh-huh,” he answered, staring momentarily at the two coins plunked into his palm before ringing up $15 on the cash register, punching in a 50-cent subtraction and sliding over a green metal admission button with the detachment of a Vegas dealer parting with a dollar chip. If he had been trained in a psy-ops camp in the most effective ways of wounding a conscience, he could have done no better.
I don't know why a cashier would ring up $15, because the new suggested donation is $20. Those feeling bashful about shorting one of NYC's better museums should feel grateful they're not in Boston.
If, for example, you want to see the “Americans in Paris” show now at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, you will have to buy a $23 adult ticket on top of the museum’s $15 adult admission fee. (The show comes to the Met in October; it will not cost extra there.)
Holy crap! $38 is only $12 less than a full year's membership to The Met, and a visit to the latter includes proximity to Central Park, upon which the Museum resides on the eastern border. One could even walk 2 blocks north and cross the street to see the newly acquired Klimt paintings at the Neue Gallery while one was in the neighborhood.
Tip: The Met is open until 9pm on Fridays. If you're ready to decompress from a week's worth of work, some of the back galleries are a good place to sit and read for a few hours, while shedding one's work-week carapace.
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July 14, 2006
THE ART OF THE EVERYDAY
(By Anonymous, originally appearing in the San Fran Chronicle)
"Photography Is Not An Art!" is a curated show currently displayed at the Alan Klotz Gallery. The title of the exhibit is somewhat ironic, because the curator knows that photography is an art form--as much so as any still life painting of fruit anyway, but often much more dynamic and expressive, for an essentially static medium.
While some photogs aspire to their art form--Adams with large format landscapes and Bresson "capturing the moment"--the majority of photographs are recreational in nature. Is there any artistic value there? That's the question this show poses. Sometimes even the most mundane snapshots capture significant emotional impact, unbeknownst to the picture taker or subject. Even scientific photographs have an immense ability to penetrate--sometimes literally--the inner beings of their subjects to great effect.
I haven't seen the show yet, but plan on doing so. The Alan Klotz Gallery is located at 511 West 25th St. between 10th and 11th Aves, Suite 701. It is available for viewing through August 19th.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 5:02 PM | Current Events | Comments (0) | TrackBack
THE ANNOYANCE OF BEING EARNEST
I just finished reading The Night Thoreau Spent In Jail, by Jerome Lwarence and Robert E. Lee. It's a play written in 1970 featuring the titled protagonist spending a night in the local Concord, MA jail for failing to pay his taxes, in protest of the U.S.' military involvement in Mexico.
The authors were obviously using it as an allegory anti-war protest against U.S. involvement in Vietnam. The play is an interesting examination of Thoreau's anarchist political leanings and transcendentalist philosophical groundings. Overall, however, the play is insufferably earnest and reads like it was written by a pair of teenagers inflamed with "the injustice of it all." Mature readers may come away wanting to slap Thoreau's ghost more than admiring him. Here's how the authors describe their hero:
(This is a young man--with a knife-like humor, fierce convicion and devastating
[emphasis mine] individuality.)
Oh my, I think I may be in love with such a devastatingly intense personality! Bear in mind, that's actually part of the text. If the authors went to the overhanded trouble of actually having the town crucify Thoreau, I'm sure he would have bled integrity from his pierced palms.
One interesting thing I noted while reading the play is how anti-Vietnam sentiments are being recycled literally for the current war:
"This unnecessary war was unconstitutionally commenced by the President, who may be telling us the Truth--but he is not telling the Whole Truth. He has swept the war on and on, in showers of blood. His mind, taxed beyond its powers, is running out like some tortorured creature on a burning surface!"
Wow, 35 years later and they're still wearing out the grooves on that broken record. Blah blah blah.
The Night Thoreau Spent In Jail is 24 hours in the life of Henry David Thoreau that illuminates the arc of his life, from idealistic recluse, to outspoken social critic. It's an interesting historical artificact. Reading it, however, one gets the sense that a reasonable person would be more likely to punch Thoreau in the face after a conversation than agree with him. He comes off as a self-righteous and naive fool than a sage at peace with the world. In fact, there is no peace to Thoreau's character at all. For a man supposedly at peace with the natural world, Thoreau is passionately indisposed to human relationships. In a better play, this would come off as a tragic flaw. In Lawrence and Lee's piece, it is more tragi-comedic.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 4:09 PM | Books | Comments (0) | TrackBack
EVERYONE LOVES A HOT DOG
Back in March, I mentioned that acquaintance Joe Tavano--Joey T--was making good use of his time after leaving his video editor position at NBC's "Today Show" [see ONE FOR THE BOOKS, 3/28/06]. Joey wrote a children's book about a Dachsund that, like Pinocchio, would love to become a real live boy, but realizes that there's nothing better than being yourself. It's illustrated by Ji Yu.
The book was capsule reviewed in Entertainment Weekly last week and earned an A rating. Not bad for the catty forum.
A Dachshund's Wish
By Joe Tavano, illustrated by Ji Yu
What's it like to be a gamboling, adventurous little dachshund puppy, just freed from the pet store and brought into a loving home? Paws adores his new owners, especially young Jimmy, who dotes on the dog, even surreptitiously feeding him breakfast sausage. Paws idolizes Jimmy so much, in fact, that he'd like to turn into a boy himself, and he's surprised when the hedgehog in the backyard informs him his wish can come true. A charming, rollicking tale unfolds in this chapter book as Paws meets the various wild animals who live on the property. In the end he learns, of course, that it's best to be yourself, not someone else. (Author's note: Anyone who knows me knows my weakness for dachshunds: I have two of them. But I swear I didn't let my love for the smart, sassy little breed interfere with my critical ability here!) A —TJ
Recommended ages: 8 and up
Check it out. I plan on reading it this afternoon at B&N.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 8:40 AM | Books | Comments (0) | TrackBack