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La Vie en Rose

I saw the Edith Piaf movie, La vie en Rose. (Yes, another French movie. It’s not like we will only see French movies. It just so happens that whenever we scan the listings, the most interesting movie happens to be the French one. I mean, look at what is out now: The Waitress. Ocean’s 13. Once. Who wouldn’t choose the critically-acclaimed Edith Piaf bio over a date movie about a waitress who channels her emotions into pie-making?)

I liked La vie en Rose. I don’t feel like writing a formal review of it, but if I did, I’d give it two Green Thumbs (out of a possible three) and call it mind-blowingly entertaining, funny, sad, emotional, and dramatic. Too dramatic, in fact. I can’t count how many times Edith collapsed into sobbing hysteria, crying someone’s name: Titine! Momone! Papa Leplee! Marcel! Marcel!

Anyway, today I spent some time watching YouTube videos of Edith Piaf herself performing. Most of the videos are from her later years, in the late 1950s, when her myriad health problems and chemical dependencies had taken a toll, but the videos are haunting all the same. I like her performance of “Milord” on the Ed Sullivan show in particular. Some would call her one of France’s greatest singers. I would call her France’s only great singer.

Posted in Review.

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Herbonics

Today the Supreme Court decided 5-to-4 that schools can prohibit student speech that advocates illegal drug use, and that the phrase “Bong Hits 4 Jesus” does advocate drug use, hence ruling against the former high school senior in Alaska who infamously unfurled a 14-foot banner saying as much at a school-sanctioned event. The decision not only deals a blow to the First Amendment, it also will make teenaged stoners think twice before wearing their “Highway 420” t-shirts and green “Live Stoned” bracelets to school.

In the majority opinion, Chief Justice John Roberts painstakingly analyzed the banner’s “cryptic” message “Bong Hits 4 Jesus” in order to justify calling it pro-drug: “the phrase could be interpreted as an imperative: ‘[Take] bong hits…’ alternatively, the phrase could be viewed as celebrating drug use – ‘bong hits [are a good thing],’ or ‘[we take] bong hits'” (here for text of court opinion). In the dissenting opinion, Justice Stevens said “What is Chief Justice Roberts smoking?”

Personally, I support the Court’s decision, but only because of the message’s religious overtones. Hello? Seperation of church and state? I mean, “4 Jesus” is unabashed advocacy of the glorification and celebration of a religious figure. Our students have the right to go to school and not be blasted by pro-Christian messages about loving and supporting Jesus through bong hits. Students have the right to take bong hits for Allah, for Buddha, for Zeus, for Satan, for Shiva, or for their own spiritual edification. But public school is hardly the proper place to be influenced about for which faith they will take bong hits.

Posted in In the News.

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Monadnock

When we heard that 3,165 foot Mt. Monadnock in southern NH called itself the second-most climbed mountain in the world after Mt. Fuji, we scoffed. What an absurd claim. Monadnock is an isolated mountain peak in a rural New Hampshire location. How many people actually drive to Jaffrey, NH for the express purpose of climbing over slabs of granite for 3-4 hours?

But after hiking Mt. Monadnock among literally hundreds of people this afternoon, I’ll believe the hype. Monadnock’s expansive views and central location draws altitude-seeking hikers from all over New England. It’s a challenging hike, but most physically active adults would have no problem, and kids love climbing over the trail’s rock slabs (low center of gravity sure helps). The longest stretch of solitude during the hike was for about 2 minutes. The rest of the 3 1/2 hour hike, we were passing families with young children, or being passed by groups of pre-teens and teenagers, or vying with comparably paced adults for breathing room.

I can’t say I enjoyed such a bustling trail. On most hikes, we run into maybe five or six groups of hikers. On a busy day, like at Mt. Lafayette last Memorial Day, we’ll see about 50 people and be bowled over by the popularity of our chosen hike. Hiking is about getting away from other people and their chatter, their whining, their self-congrulatory bragging about past hiking feats. When I reach the summit, I like to pretend that I have discovered something unique and powerful. I like to listen to the howling wind and contemplate the peace of a mountain summit. I don’t like finding an entire YMCA youth camp sitting around, eating sandwiches and hurling M&Ms at each other and just screaming. Mt. Monadnock made me feel like a sheep in a herd of humanity, looking to be entertained, enlightened, and fulfilled by the pursuit of a great panorama.

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Why I Turn My Nose Up At Your Lemonade Stand

I have nothing against entrepreneurship. In fact, it gladdens my heart to see such young children bilking consumers via a quaint business venture like a lemonade stand. In the age of Red Bull and smoothies, by purveying lemonade, you are tapping into nostalgic, romantic notions about summertime. I think that’s great, and I hope that you will grow up to be wildly successful capitalist pigs.

But for this lemonade stand to be a life lesson and not just a way to earn a few extra dollars, then I feel compelled to offer my feedback. Because you can give people fish… or teach fishing. And the latter saves a lot of money on a lot of crap like curbside lemonade. (There’s more than one definition for the word “patronize.”)

First, you need to work on your marketing. There’s thousands of advertisers out there, clamoring to whet my thirst with an exciting array of professional, polished beverages. The looseleaf paper sign with jagged pencil markings that say “Lemonade stand $1” may appeal to my sentimental whimsy, but it also makes me wonder if you stirred the lemonade with your snot-covered hands.

Which brings me to your overall corporate image. I mean, your lemonade “stand” is missing a stand. It’s a folding chair on the grass. Placed on the chair is a large plastic pitcher, a stack of clear plastic cups, and a can of lemonade mix. Mix! Oh, great, I love lemonade from a mix. So bland and sugary, without the sour zing of lemonade made from real lemons.

Manning the “stand” are three children, two of whom are rolling around on the grass with little regard to hygiene, none of whom is particularly cute. And when I walk by, the three children simultaneously train their gazes on me and chirp “Would you like to buy a lemonade?” Immediately I am alienated by the haughty expectant tone of voice, devoid of pitiful pleading. What, you expect me to just give you a dollar for a cup of water with lemonade mix stirred into it when it’s obvious zero effort and thought was put into this venture?

Do I even need to mention that it’s 75 degrees out and cloudy?

Posted in Americana.

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Puzzling

One of the more intellectually taxing activities of last week’s Cape Cod vacation (aside from trying to remember which day of the week it was, a glorious disassociation) was the assemblage of a 550-piece puzzle of Andy Warhol’s Marilyn Monroe.

An unconventional yet effective way to commune with a piece of art: Do a jigsaw puzzle of it. You’ll become painfully attuned to the colors, the depth, the contours. For instance, in the Marilyn puzzle, there is a maddening amount of red, white, and yellow, all of the same shade, with little differentiating features. I loved finding the twinkles in her eyes.

Our Marilyn puzzle is more pleasingly colored than the yellow-lipped, blue-faced, pink-haired, or decaying black-and-white Marilyns that comprised the original set of 13 Marilyns released in 1962. This web site lets you play with the color scheme of Warhol’s Marilyn print, and provides some history about Warhol’s silkscreening phase: “In August 62 I started doing silkscreens… you get the same image, slightly different each time. It was all so simple quick and chancy. I was thrilled with it. When Marilyn Monroe happened to die that month, I got the idea to make screens of her beautiful face the first Marilyns.”

The fact that Warhol also created silkscreens of objects of mass production (soup cans, Brillo pads) implies that this was no simple homage to Marilyn’s timeless beauty and mass appeal. Celebrities are manufactured, commodified, and accessible to us all. Everyone can get a bottle of Coke, a can of Campbell’s soup, or a Marilyn Monroe. (Incidentally, last month, “Lemon Marilyn” sold for $28 million dollars at a Christie’s auction).

In spite of (or because of?) all of the cultural cliches, it felt a lot more appropriate to do a Marilyn Monroe jigsaw puzzle rather than, say, a Mona Lisa jigsaw puzzle.

Posted in Culture.

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The Civically Insane

An article in the New York Times discusses how a growing number of states are seeking to either expand or restrict voting rights based on a person’s mental competence. Currently, the states’ restrictions vary in scope and enforcement, and officials are grappling to clarify laws as America grows increasingly unglued and demented by the day.

Key to the issue are the voting rights of the non compos mentis (not master of one’s own mind), who are typically Republican, except for the paranoid schizophrenics (Libertarian) and the pyromaniacs (Democrat). In Missouri, advocates for the mentally ill have sued the state to secure voting rights for these non compos mentis citizens who understand the nature and effect of voting, which civil rights experts feel should be the national standard for the issue.

Then there’s states like Rhode Island, where convicted felons lose their right to vote, but those who are found “not guilty by reason of insanity” do not. One man is crusading to remove two such criminally insane murderers from the voting rolls on the grounds that they are “nuts” even though both men have the mental capacity to vote.

Other states are simply modernizing their laws. In New Jersey, the state constitution may be amended to replace language forbidding an “idiot or insane” person to vote, under the grounds that 90% of the population was effectively disenfranchised.

(Oh, I know… it’s way too easier to pick on poor, deranged New Jersey, and it’s unfair. Evidence of our national mental decay is all over the newspaper every day. We are waging an insane war at a great cost to ourselves. We are destroying our world’s environment without little regard to the future. We care more about our politicians’ religions than their commitment to education and health care. We suffer from collective anxiety, paranoia, exhibitionism, amnesia, body dysmorphic disorder, delirium, and addiction. And yet we are concerned that elderly citizens with Alzheimer’s disease are going to try to vote. What are we afraid of? That we might re-elect Eisenhower?)

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Strong Opinions about Salad

The days grow sultrier, clothing turns lightweight and revealing, and the lunchtime salad line at Cosi approaches absurd lengths. Even brute males are joining the female leafy green stalwarts in a bid to cool their core temperatures and slacken their caloric intake. The allure of a customized Cosi salad is such that many wait upwards of 20 minutes without being tempted to grab one of the pre-made grape and gorgonzola monstrosities or to duck into the sandwich line.

The two young women in front of me hold strong opinions about salad. I mean, they’ve obviously done research. “The Bombay Chicken salad is good, but I sub the red onions with beans,” says the blond.

“They let you do that? Do they charge extra?” asks the brunette. “I mean, are beans considered a ‘protein’?”

“No, only meat is a protein. I mean, beans are more a carb, anyway. I gotta have beans, or I get hungry an hour later and start looking for candy.”

“I know what you mean. Like, I never get a fat-free dressing, ” says the brunette.”You gotta have fat in the dressing. But it has to be fat from an oil-based vinaigrette, not fat from a creamy dressing, like a Caesar salad.”

“I hate the Caesar salad,” declared the blond. “It’s like eating a stick of butter. Yeech.”

“I never get it,” says the brunette primly.

“Sharon gets it all the time. Did you ever notice how, when fat people order a salad, it’s always a Caesar? And they wonder why they’re still fat?” They giggle. They are both sticks. They are both bags of bones and proud of it.

“Do you get the baby spinach or the mesclun?” asks the brunette.

“Spinach,” says the blond without hesitation.

“Me too!” They both order Bombay chicken salads, with baby spinach, no red onions, add cannellini beans, with shallot sherry vinaigrette.

“Oh, add pears on mine, please,” calls the brunette at the last minute. “I have a craving for fruit!” The blond bristles at the sudden relative lack of her salad’s healthfulness. Such is summertime in the Cosi salad line.

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Mount Washington Alpine Garden June 2007

Posted in 4000 Footers.

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Back from Vacationland

I return from Cape Cod with hundreds of photos documenting the minutiae of the past week. I could publish a pictorial chronicle of my vacation, and it could be a bestseller if the pictures were narrated by some esoteric Beatnik prose poet who describes banal vacation activities as an elucidation of the futile condition of the middle class. I’ll try to find a totally batshit publishing house and see what I can do to get the wheels moving on that project.

In the meantime, here are the prize landscape photographs of the week, both taken by Mr. Pinault during our Nantucket island excursion. The first one is the archetypal Cape Cod lighthouse. The second is a field of daisies that we happened upon while bicycling. A winsome summation of a soothing, idyllic week.

Posted in Massachusetts, Trips.

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Googles: Reality is Scratching Bug Bites

I was on vacation for too long. This morning, packing my tote bag for the office, I stopped myself from bringing my camera. Nope, I will not serendipitously find a billowing field of daisies or grass-covered sand dunes in the office.

I caught my usual express train to Boston. The seat configuration of the last train car was different. I’m gone for one week, and everything changes! Instead of matching rows of two-seaters separated by an aisle, there was a row of two-seaters and a row of three-seaters separated by an aisle. It was a little surreal

I diligently set upon the New York Times, to repent for a week of media indifference. But by the time the train pulls into South Station, I’m daydreaming about Nutella and banana sandwiches and scratching a particularly noisome bug bite on my left calf.

At the office, I try to capitalize on a post-vacation burst of energy, but I spend a lot of time remembering what I was doing before I left. Did I incorporate the latest changes? Revise this document? Check in those updates? Entire projects had slipped from my mind. Hmmm… I think I’ll scratch that bug bite on my calf for a few minutes. It makes my entire body feel good.

So, I digress. Despite the vacation refreshment, it was a ‘cut and paste’ kind of day. Here are my favorite search engines queries from my web site statistics.

INTERROGATIVE

can an improper managed nuclear plant explode like a nuclear device

how to convince elderly man to wear diapers

what can i expect as an adult with spina bifada

how long do collard green live

what store uses the slogan “don’t you just love a bargain”

is phoenixville really on the rise

how many languages does ivanka trump speak

how come everlast colognes aren’t in stores

where’s my dinner bitch tom green

where to buy sweet valley high series in malaysia

why does my urine smell funny after i consume fresh asparagus

what is in asparagus that gives urine a special odor

what dress shirts does george stephanopoulos wear

how do you become a jagerette

what is between love

www.sugar busters.com,what shacks can you eat

did meredith hunter fired the gun at mick jagger

i cant buy nanny mania can i play it for free without having to download

what song says give me the beat boy that fills my sole i wana get lost in your rock and roll and drift away

SMUT

very red and sore after a spanking

walmart sex

sex and violins vivid

sex for cocaine

pimps who supply pre teen grils

my breasts meredith baxter actress

playboys girls of dunkin donuts

marylou’s coffee sluts

segolene royal nude

funny penis

40 year old malaysian sexy women seeking a man for free sex

masterbation marathon

QUOTATION

“tripoli road” camping cops

“hell of a day” idiom

“proprietary rights to words”

“eff you diego”

“unhappiest students”

“bag refund” self checkout

“mechanical bull” galleries 2007

“shooting ducks in a barrel” etymology

“just try to stop us we’re going to love”

“who is maggie” bob dylan

“i’m a fainter”

PERQUISITE

david letterman shitless pics

natalie portman lack of estrogen

mel gibson’s clippity

brits flocking to las vegas

kenneth cole mick jogger

dirtiest restaurants in natick

sighs rodent infestation in the home

vitamins keeps the trees green

women in heels crushing rabbits

meredith green tarot cards

mr. clean brand personality

lung implode causing death

lime green prada american cup

ergonomic of beverage cans

disenfranchisement of mentally sick

paranoia, signs and symptoms

photos of the five people who died in the boston massacre

Posted in Existence.

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