Heart-rending story in the New York Times, The Life and Death of Therapist Bob Bergeron. … but perhaps rending not the way you think. Depending on whether, of course, you are a gay man. I’m not, but the beauty-fade? The loss of looks, beyond one’s control? Like, life? Getting sick? Old? The Creeping Decrepits, my son calls them. He, however, is only eighteen years younger than I, so he’ll get his. (He’s a Good Boy.) (Also a senior geo-tech engineer, so I probably won’t be sending him this post.) Read the rest of this entry »

I never watch the news, but you know what I learned on the news? The fucking humanitarian aid, food and supplies, North Korea receives?  The North Korean people are told that these are tributes. To their Leader. Then, if they’re lucky, I guess they get to eat. Read the rest of this entry »

Verrry interesting. The slow tap tap of her heels … in all that silence. Just devastating.
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Should Google Tweak the News? asks the New York Times.

Count me Horrified. Can the Times retract, even, the question?

     ”Should Google play an editorial role in presenting readers with news?” Read the rest of this entry »

On Richard Brody’s New Yorker Blog, the DVD of the Week is that fave, that treasure, Terrence Malick’s Badlands.  Read the rest of this entry »

What is important to understand is that these same messages about how awful the latest version of Mac OS X is appear each and every time there’s a new upgrade. Thomas Reed, Apple Discussions

An Apple user since 1992, and OS X since Jaguar—I strongly disagree. Read the rest of this entry »

Burning down the cloth house. Have you a shred of a chance of realizing all that you know in your heart are your dreams withheld, stifled, lost? And does this loss, what you have already lost and what will come, does it resonate anywhere? Or do your struggles as women rise and disappear like waves in the ocean, what does one woman matter, in a world you know is Wrong. Misguided, stupid to the core. Could you do better with one little finger than the men you refuse to call, anymore, leaders. And don’t you have to live with the terrible obviousness. Your perfect skill to find the moral balance midst conflict. Isn’t it all a big pissing contest, no more than gang behavior … and aren’t you, as a woman, with your maternal, familial skills, aren’t you the hope of the world?

{ fin }

Oh go ahead. Hit full screen. They don’t come much more beautiful than this. And with that iconic sound. Think of it—two notes that not only speak the Sixties—and honey, if you don’t know the level of social unrest of the Sixties, the assassinations, the deaths, you don’t really know America, nor what lazy, lulled shits we have, as a country, become—but here they go all over again, those notes, these lyrics, Chuck D, and, in such a beauty move, Steven Stills … Read the rest of this entry »