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The upside to the economic meltdown is that as stores go out of business we'll be able to get our crap on the cheap. Mom and I picked up some useful kitchen implements on final clearance at Linens 'N Things today. Not that "final clearance" was that great a deal, but oh well. The other upside is that it's making people finally see the light--at least most people. I will never understand how a few so-called "social issues" can be more important to some people than their financial livelihood. Whatever.
Spike on cranberry bush cultivation: "They sink them. With land mines."
As I mentioned, I'm working (part-time, sadly) at a doctor's office this month and one thing that's been driven home to me again is how appallingly Americans take care of themselves--or rather don't. Blech. No wonder we spend so much money on health care and get so little bang for our buck. I refuse to be part of that particular problem again any more. I'm opting out.
Marissa and I saw "The Duchess" in Edina last week and I'm finally getting around to writing about it. I read the book (by Amanda Foreman) when it came out 11 years ago, so I remembered a great deal of what to expect (enough so that I think M was a bit surprised), but I think the book, in a weird way, sort of held the sheer depressing reality of Georgiana's life at arm's length. The movie, by contrast, brought it--and many period details--vividly to life. It was an excellent movie, to be sure, but terribly depressing. M & I went back to her apartment and drank our bottle of three-buck Chuck to women's rights.
I also went to the Walker while I was in MN, and wandered around (that place is rather labyrinthine and dispiritingly monolithically white). I saw the Walker's half of the Eero Saarinen exhibit (architect of the arch in St. Louis, among other things), and I found myself rather piqued at how the exhibit absolutely refused to consider the legacy of Saarinen's innovations such as the corporate park, which I would argue is overwhelmingly negative. It was quite different from, say, the Whitney's Buckminster Fuller exhibition, and not in the Walker's favor. All in all I wound up ruminating overwhelmingly on the possibility of art as a repressive force, simply because the interior of the building is so white and the placards are so smugly explanatory. I asked the interactive virtual dolphin sculpture about this and it told me, "It's not profitable to speak in hypothetical terms." Smart-ass. There was one thing I particularly liked, though, an art movie that juxtaposed footage of the artist and his crew's journey to the Antarctic in search of an albino penguin, "a world already lost," with the express intention "not to bring anything back", with the recreation of this journey for an audience over three separate nights in the ice rink in Central Park. The soundtrack was the topography of the Antarctic island converted to music and played by an orchestra. It was sad, but it was beautiful and stirring, far more so than anything else I saw.
Spike on cranberry bush cultivation: "They sink them. With land mines."
As I mentioned, I'm working (part-time, sadly) at a doctor's office this month and one thing that's been driven home to me again is how appallingly Americans take care of themselves--or rather don't. Blech. No wonder we spend so much money on health care and get so little bang for our buck. I refuse to be part of that particular problem again any more. I'm opting out.
Marissa and I saw "The Duchess" in Edina last week and I'm finally getting around to writing about it. I read the book (by Amanda Foreman) when it came out 11 years ago, so I remembered a great deal of what to expect (enough so that I think M was a bit surprised), but I think the book, in a weird way, sort of held the sheer depressing reality of Georgiana's life at arm's length. The movie, by contrast, brought it--and many period details--vividly to life. It was an excellent movie, to be sure, but terribly depressing. M & I went back to her apartment and drank our bottle of three-buck Chuck to women's rights.
I also went to the Walker while I was in MN, and wandered around (that place is rather labyrinthine and dispiritingly monolithically white). I saw the Walker's half of the Eero Saarinen exhibit (architect of the arch in St. Louis, among other things), and I found myself rather piqued at how the exhibit absolutely refused to consider the legacy of Saarinen's innovations such as the corporate park, which I would argue is overwhelmingly negative. It was quite different from, say, the Whitney's Buckminster Fuller exhibition, and not in the Walker's favor. All in all I wound up ruminating overwhelmingly on the possibility of art as a repressive force, simply because the interior of the building is so white and the placards are so smugly explanatory. I asked the interactive virtual dolphin sculpture about this and it told me, "It's not profitable to speak in hypothetical terms." Smart-ass. There was one thing I particularly liked, though, an art movie that juxtaposed footage of the artist and his crew's journey to the Antarctic in search of an albino penguin, "a world already lost," with the express intention "not to bring anything back", with the recreation of this journey for an audience over three separate nights in the ice rink in Central Park. The soundtrack was the topography of the Antarctic island converted to music and played by an orchestra. It was sad, but it was beautiful and stirring, far more so than anything else I saw.