Liberia in World Politics

Found in a reading room on the 6th Floor of Butler Library:

Respectfully Dedicated to His Excellency Presdent Edwin Barclay and the Brave Men and Women who are Building a New Republic of Liberia without Doubting the Capacity of any Branch of the Human Family to Guide and Control its Destiny.

In 1934 Liberia was in the midst of what the author calls "The Period of International Mediation." 1934. My intrepid roommate just sent me a dispatch from an Ethiopian UNMIL camp. Glad to see the Liberians are so consistent.

Here there be Dragons...

An amateur photographer took some pictures while flying over Lhasa, and the pictures showed some strange shapes that suggest dragons! This is just like in one of my favorite children's books, Everyone Knows What a Dragon Looks Like, except instead of a little boy saving the Chinese from invading Mongol hordes because of his faith in dragons, now the Chinese are the invaders and the poor Tibetans need the protection of these majestic magical creatures. It'd be great if there was a dragon kingdom high in the sky above the Himalayas. Do you think the Chinese will try to harness the power of the dragons to use as an alternative transportation methond? Then they wouldn't be dependent on foreign oil and they would crush us all!

A Confession of Love

A major problem with this whole freelancing thing is that I don't get up early enough to catch the good articles before Gawker gets to them. In this case I can't help but be repetetive; my feelings are too strong. Girl Crush? Liliana, it's more than that-it's girl love, and I can only hope that your shiny metal heart will accept my affections. You're so stylish! You have such great hair! Such a pretty smile! You're so funny! And you love Faerie Tale Theatre! Also, your great forebearance during my "smart one, pretty one" phase was truly beautiful. I'd ask you to run away with me, but I know we face some serious obstacles. Europe and the Dark Continent is out-too close to your intrepid flame. We'll never make it West either-jealous yet well formed prose would catch us as soon as we crossed the Mississipi. Our only choice is South-will your native land provide a home and accept us? It'd only be transgressive if you insisted on bringing my sister along...

Great Moments in DVD Commentary

Little Sis' comment on the "Best Line Ever" was so good I'm not adding anything.

Oliver Stone gets it for his commentary on the director's cut
of "Alexander"

"Maybe in another time and place we'll have a fair treatment of
eunuchs."

Its brilliance is too great to be put into words. Once you record how brilliant it is, those words written down would
outshine the sun, and our galaxy would be in trouble.

Pacman evolves

It's damn near impossible to get work done at the Tea Lounge. Normally when cafes are distracting it's because of cute boys, but not here. Here I find myself overwhelmed by the babies. They're everywhere. And toddlers. And small children. There are probably as many adorable, womb-enticing moppetts as there are adults.

There are two little girls, both about 4, engaged in heated competition right now. Caroline, the one in pink shorts who vaguely resembles a preschool Louise Brooks, is showing a mean competetive streak. She alternates between shouts of "I'm winning I'm winning! I'm gonna beat you!" and "Damn! Shoot Shoot Shoot!" I'm a little concerned for her future well-being, although her mother was appropriately mortified, but I don't know if "Hooray" will cover the range of things Caroline seems to want to express.

I hope I never have a child who's that obsessed with triumph, although I have a hunch that might not be in the cards. Anyone who ever had to listen to me bitch about how unjust my high school teachers were for leaving the "+" off of my A's would agree, I think.

Speaking of competition, this line from an article in the Times reminds me why it's important to win at all costs:

In 1999 the Kansas board drew international attention when it deleted most references to evolution from its science standards. Elections the next year resulted in a less conservative board, which led to the current, evolution-friendly standards. Conservatives recaptured the board's majority in the 2004 elections.

Now the winners get to write more than just history. I'd like to see Pacman eat Kansas-it's so flat and square he could use the highways just like the mazes in the game. The tractors could be the ghosts. Churches are extra points. It'd be easy! A live action version of the game already exists-it'd be a snap to adapt. Next time these guys have a game, I'm going, and I'm taking little Caroline with me.

Kick 'em while they're down

In addition to seeing her late husband's status as the world's most-admired quadraplegic challenged by the cast of what will inevitably be one strange Mountain Dew commercial(their Wheaties box is coming-it's only a matter of time), Christopher Reeves' widow Dana has lung cancer. And she's not a smoker. I guess things can always get worse.

Melting Clocks and such

The internet has special powers. All kinds of information floating around. It's enough to make you paranoid, like a constant buzz in your ears that always "meant" someone was talking about you. Nobody knows you're a dog in cyberspace, or so they say, so it's just a big mystery.

Back to more normal things, sort of. England has a serious problem with axe murders. The latest is much more disturbing than the first from several months ago. Apparently this one was a hate crime. Incredibly sad, really. Almost makes me lose my taste for random axe murders. Almost.

A BUST-y evening

Thanks to my very well rounded friend's blog stalking of the Village Voice's sex columnist, my favorite protocol droid and I got into BUST Magazine's "Men We Love" issue release party. Not surprisingly, there were a lot more overheard "when I was in Yugoslavia" stories than there were "Nina Hartley and I were talking about the best threesome dynamics" stories, and not nearly enough free drinks. We also didn't get gift bags. We did, however, manage to get onto the roof and mingle with all the green-tagged VIPs. Lousy schmoozers that we are, we spent the whole time in our own corner talking about our favorite, decidedly un-BUSTY topic, boys that give us fits of the Brontes. Not a single work connection was made, not one hapless hipster left flustered by our awesomeness. Missed opportunity? Or the only way to spend a Thursday night when you're unemployed-I mean freelancing?

The Gospel according to Little Sis

Once again, my sister, the prodigal cheesehead and defender of infanticide in the service of Classical art, has proven just how superior she is to mere mortals. No references to 90210 this time, although I'd like to take a moment to reflect on the philosophical battle that was clearly going on when both 90210 and Saved by the Bell had their special summer seasons. Clearly drama is a more effective mode-Kelly Kapowski became Valerie Malone and the victory was complete!

That was not the point. The point is this:
Sister on her Strindberg-like depression-

I wish i had my little floating Helium now. those cute floating elements are never around when you need them. except Beryllium.....he never leaves.

Sister on her newly purchased material goods-

If my iPod were to cheat on my iBook with anything, it'd be these shoes. That's how cute they are.

Sister on some recent saccharine behavior-

You're going to play Scrabble? I have a good word for you from my Scrabble calendar. What is it? Tell me so I can use it! P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C.

It's hard to live with the knowledge that someone you love so dearly is so much cleverer than you.

What can the undead teach us of tolerance?

I learned something the other day. Something important. Something that changed me. Some zombies are not. all. evil. Yes, this is a big step for me. Luckily there are some plucky walking corpses north of the border who have taken as their mission the torment and defeat of history geeks. My new favorite person, Liz documented in beatiful detail all the beauty havoc zombies can create. There are even some pictures upon pictures of this beautiful day. I can't believe I've wasted so much time hating zombies-clearly I hate Ren Fair attendees more. It's a good thing there aren't any movies about them. That'd really scare me.

Pataki is going to veto a potential godsend of a bill because he thinks it'll get him elected President, but those Republicans aren't going to vote for you anyway, George! You're a Godless New Yorker, remember? Of course, only in New York would the Republican State Senate Majority Leader criticize him for all the right reasons:

"The bill would have given women more options to prevent pregnancies and, as a result, would have prevented abortions," Mr. Bruno said. "I was surprised by the governor's reason for a veto, given that under existing law, minors already have access to a far worse alternative than taking a pill to prevent an unwanted pregnancy."

That sound you just heard was my entire world turning upside down. Republicans being reasonable? Next think you know, someone's going to tell me not all zombies are bad!

Fuck and Run? I only wish...

I thought the title of this Times piece was interesting for several reasons: The Independence of Liz Phair? Hardly. I'll forgive Liz Phair a lot-I like Whip Smart, for Christ's sake-but let's not pretty up what she's doing right now. Poor David Carr is still so smitten with the possibility that Ms. Phair might actually do some of the things she sings about in "Flower"(I guess I do know a lot of guys looking for blowjob queens though, so I can't blame him too much) that he can't admit that what sucks about Liz Phair isn't that she sold out, but that her music isn't that good anymore. She's hot, I won't fault her for acting it, but I can and will fault whitechocolatespaceegg for having no standout songs and no coherent theme. I will fault her most recent singles for sounding so generic I mistake them for the latest slop by American Idol losers. I'm not the only one to notice this phenomenon by any means, either.

I love my angry girl music, even if I'm not so angry anymore. I know the argument-I grew up, why wouldn't they, blah blah blah. At least PJ Harvey still uses her guitar. That's all I ask.

UN-be-fucking-lievable

John Bolton...Recess Appointment...United Nations...I'm sorry, I'd type more but the steam shooting out of my ears is obscuring my view of the computer screen. Let's review for a moment-George Bush appointed a man revealed to be unstable, unprofessional, and OPPOSED TO THE PRINCIPLES, AND VERY EXISTENCE, OF THE UNITED NATIONS to be our Ambassador to that body despite massive reservations on the part of the Senators whose duty it is to review qualifications. Bush referred to partisan obstructionism when making a statement following his appointment, as well as to "the up-and-down vote" that is code for "approval without a thorough review."

I really love this Rove-ian linguistic bait and switch-these "up-and-down" votes have never been the norm, and Republicans played any number of games with Clinton appointees(it's hardly necessary to bring in the appalling statistics on Judicial appointees in Clinton vs. Bush). The Senators that capitulated to Bush's desires in 2001(I'm thinking specifically of Russ Feingold and his whiny, snivelling, pathetic, completely uncharacteristic excuse, "I may think Ashcroft is awful, but the President has the right to pick his cabinet") opened the door to Bush's behavior now. By letting GW appoint incompetent thugs then, he thinks, nay, he knows, he can get away with it now.

This means we're stuck with Bolton until after the next Congressional election-hardly a nice thought when you consider that means he has approximately 18 months to blow the top ten floors off the UN building, or whatever the hell it was he said that made him sounds like such a jerk.

I've got to admit that there are a couple of images dancing in my head that amuse me-
1. John Bolton chasing President of the UN General Assembly Jan Eliasson as if he were a female underling in a Moscow hotel lobby, and
2. The Ali G interview.

I love my sister

Excerpt from an Instant Message conversation with my sister:

Corngirl521: as someone very wise once said, "i love you, but i'm not in love with you", ya know?
meredithlynnec: you ARE referring to that time Dylan said that to Brenda, right?
Corngirl521: oh yeah

If she would only come around and accept there is no intrinsic connection between the signifier and the signified, she'd be perfect.

Made for Breaking

Some rules should just not be followed. Some examples:
1. No drinking coffee on the subway. Do we need to cover why this is ridiculous? I think not.
2. You can only get Plan B with a prescription or through a doctor type. There are so many reasons this rule should be skirted I barely know where to start. I've seen teenage girls in tears because they have to choose between emergency contraception and their jobs thanks to Planned Parenthood's requirement that you make an appointment. Women get punished harshly in sacrifices of time and money for their lack of sense while their partners get away with being inconsiderate jackasses. Next time you're at the doctor, get a prescription and keep it just in case you or one of your friends need it. Turn your medicine cabinet into your own free clinic. It's the least to be done for the sisterhood(Liliana, are you ready to implement Plan A or do you still need the weapons training?).
3. Park and Cemetery hours. Seriously, what's the fun if you can't go at night? Besides, it's always fun to work on the fence jumping skills.
4. Any and all pictures and lists designed to ensure good behavior. Especially if there are stick figure drawings. Lists just make it easier to break rules systematically.

It's supposed to be nice this weekend. Do something you shouldn't.

Are you bored?

If you have ever felt like you have too much time on your hands, rest easy. This man cleary has more. Hilarious. Thank you Larcat.

Another ending draws near

Since it's actually not oppressive outside, I decided to put on some pants. Not just any pants, but my favorite pair of jeans. They're a little tight, okay, really tight, so they're not good for hot sticky weather. I realized as I pulled them on that the fabric is even more worn and faded than the other fabric, which means one thing-they'll fall apart soon. Knee holes? Fine. Even a few rips near the seat are okay. It's when you notice that the entire rear side of the pants looks and feels vaguely like a kleenex that you have to come to terms with losing such a close friend. I'll enjoy our remaining times together, Express Low Rise Boot Cut. I've got a lot of memories from the last 5 years. Thank you.

Yee haw

The New York Times Style section managed to display a positively Friedmanesque grasp of the cutting edge today when they deemed one of the next big things to be...Cowboy Boots. I think this quote epitomizes what makes the article so amazing:

Like Uggs, the fuzzy Australian footwear brand adopted as beachwear by California style setters, cowboy boots tend to be viewed as a moderately subversive statement, "a way of saying, 'I don't really care about the rules,' " suggested Sharon Haver, the founder of FocusonStyle, a fashion Web site. "Even your mother might cock an eyebrow."

Speaking of Friedman, I think he might finally have run out of terrible car-based metaphors and similes, because he went enviro-friendly-yesterday's column. Apparently we should all be biking, wait no, be more like China, wait, no, we should be more like Lance Armstrong! Clearly our economy would benefit from a second lease on life after the cancerous plague trade deficits and outsourcing, but why did our economy get testicular cancer, Tom? Could it have something to do with the chemical filled carcinogenic bicycle seat that is the US's love of disastrous trade agreements? There's no place to freeze our economic sperm to ensure future global virility. No, Friedman, what you prescribe will leave us less than half a man. Warren Buffett says we're heading towards a "sharecropper society," enslaved by our needs and by the countries that can meet them. Getting out of the mess we're in is going to be a lot harder than the Tour de France, I think.

Lance Armstrong is an amazing athlete, I can't deny that. Does that mean we have to find instruction in all great athletes? Where's the "make our military policy more like Tiger Woods' tee-off strategy" column? I'm waiting-that would be about as hip and with it as the cowboy boot article. Also, there is already a "Live Wrong" bracelet. It's black. The cynics beat you to it.

The classics

My subway reading of late has been Madame Bovary. Somehow I made it all the way through college without having Gustave over to play, and now our date will be over in about 20 pages. There's nothing like a book about adultery to get one thinking, especially one that reduces its heroine to an interesting act of self-destruction, one that doesn't let her off the hook by shifting to the narrative resolution of a character who learns the virtues that the author wants to point us towards(are you listening Leo? Why didn't you just call it Constantin Levin?). What I wonder is: other than the masterful prose, what is it that makes these completely predictable tales of women incapable of controlling their impulses so readable, so enduring? If we relate to the story, does that mean we in the modern world are nothing but a bunch of debauched gigolos and slatterns? Do all adulterers deserve to eat Arsenic or manually change the train signals? Or does this genre describe a framework that no longer functions, an outdated moralism that does more harm than good? Is it time to start fucking? Or is are we all bound for the confessional?

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

A little dandyish, but still pretty
Lauren beat me to it today, and it seems I can't rest until I keep the Robot's circuits from overloading, so guess there needs to be some more good looking guys. You don't get it that easy though-you never said anything about these guys being dressed like guys.

He hasn't been as hot since, and I honestly think it's the drag. He was the guy who wasn't Russell Crowe in L.A. Confidential, Guy Pearce. The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert features a ton of (now) stars dressing up in amazing drag costumes and dancing to disco. It's the reason I own ABBA Gold, and the reason I first saw Shallow Grave(if you remember the pretty pictures that inspired). I love it, and I love him. Pretty Pretty. And apparently he's going to be Andy Warlhol in the upcoming movie about Edie Sedgwick(the one where KATIE HOLMES was going to play Edie-WTF!?!). And Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale are involved somehow. I'm confused. But not about Guy Pearce's hotness.

Makeup can be a boy's friend too...