A living wage is a wage which is based upon the cost of living in an area, rather than an arbitrary minimum. Under an ideal living wage, someone who works an ordinary 40 hour per week job would be able to afford shelter, food, health care, and other basic necessities of life. Existing legislation defines a living wage in New York City as a minimum of $10 per hour with benefits, or $11.50 per hour without benefits.
“This approach is not without risk and has never been attempted before at this depth,” Mr. Obama said (about Plan C now that the top kill method has failed). “That is why it was not activated until other methods had been exhausted.”
What risks? It could trigger a double secret leak?
“It would have been more merciful for writer-director Michael Patrick King to have rented Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda out to the Saw franchise, or to Rob Zombie, so we could watch them get shot in the head or skinned alive by Arkansas rednecks. Instead of that, we get something that’s truly sadistic: the SATC girls as haggard specters, haunted by their freewheeling ’90s past and stupefied by the demands of work, marriage and/or motherhood.” — Andrew O’Hehir, Salon
“SATC2 takes everything that I hold dear as a woman and as a human — working hard, contributing to society, not being an entitled cunt like it’s my job — and rapes it to death with a stiletto that costs more than my car. It is 146 minutes long, which means that I entered the theater in the bloom of youth and emerged with a family of field mice living in my long, white mustache. This is an entirely inappropriate length for what is essentially a home video of gay men playing with giant Barbie dolls.” — Lindy West, The Stranger
There’s a part of me that wants to get as drunk as humanely possible and filmed while watching this in the theater.
[Full disclosure: I am a member of the blog collective known as Young Manhattanite, the photos of which are linked above, and have been since 2008. It’s a non-profit blog, mostly written by hirsute Jewish bloggers at least ten years older than me, who mostly write about Israel, punk rock, and other bloggers. In other words, the kind of guys who would absolutely go to a protest on a Friday night dressed up as a sea turtle to “get some strange.”]