I’ve noticed an uptick over the past couple weeks/months of parrying all criticism with the riposte “Troll.” It’s apparently pretty effective because no one wants to have to defend their case. All dissent is not equivalent to race mongering on Twitter because a hockey player has the temerity to be black. Think white exceptionalism degrades the quality of journalism everywhere? Troll. Complain about it? Troll. Point out that a link in someone’s global nav is broke? Troll.
It works surprisingly well because the internet is a giant Montessori class where everyone is patted on the head for showing up and doing it wrong. I’m actually excited about the day, which has got to be real soon, when someone acknowledges that a thoughtful, well composed argument is dismissed as trolling simply because the gesture of willing to think in opposition squashes someone’s Gallitin flower of specialness, and everyone nods sagely in agreement: how dare they be right?
With its white wainscoting and nautical paraphernalia, the room affects the look of some old dockside haunt. The menu follows suit, and is comprised mostly of no-fuss classics like fried oysters, skate wing, and steamers. The lobster rolls and clam rolls, made with nostalgia-tinged Sunbeam bread, are piled high with fish. There’s an unpretentious raw bar, craft beers, a small but well-chosen wine list. The predictable is leavened with notes of idiosyncrasy: a pea-shoot-and-watermelon-radish salad provides just the right edge of tartness to the greasier offerings, as does a beautifully balanced pickle garnish—sweet with a little chile—that accompanies several dishes.
Littleneck, our favorite restaurant, reviewed in The New Yorker.
Lilith Fund is only a few days away from ending their bowl-a-thon fundraising campaign. And they are a couple thousand dollars short of reaching their goal of $25,000. Please donate if you can!
The local abortion fund here in Austin is called the Lilith Fund. They help fund abortions for low-income people who cannot afford the entire cost of an abortion (which normally runs from $430 and up).
Last year, they gave out the most money ever: $78,000. And yet they were only able to help 25% of the people who called. They had to tell 75% of the people who called in crisis, looking for help, that they couldn’t help them because there simply wasn’t enough money.
And this all comes on the heels of MAJOR funding cuts by the state of Texas to reproductive health care.
Lilith Fund is going to see and feel the implications of this. The people who search out Lilith Fund for help funding the abortions they need will increase.
While $5 may not seem like a lot to you, to a person in crisis trying desperately to get the abortion they need, it can be everything.
There are a number of absolutely excellent, important reasons why you should donate to the Lilith Fund Abortion Access Bowl-A-Thon Team, one of which is their team name’s reference to the Big Lebowski.
My guess is that conversations here will work much like those in real life. Say someone at a public event asks a difficult but intelligent question. You can refuse to answer. But everybody will see that you've refused. And you'll look like a dick.
Let’s start off with saying that nothing that Joe Muto has done in his quest to be the “Fox Mole” is even remotely justifiable on ethical or civil grounds. We can safely be dismissive of any argument on his behalf that he had a “reason” to do any of this. So, that’s out of the way.
Are none of you even slightly sketched out that a private organization was able to command a search warrant for reasons relating only to the breach of a contract? Every high school civics class (the ones that are paying attention, anyway) should be discussing this week why the warrant should have never happened, clearly. CLEARLY. THERE’S NO DEBATE! IT SHOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN ISSUED. Joe now has his $5,000 plus eleventy billion that the city is going to have to pay out to him in the fish-in-a-barrel lawsuit that he gets to fire back. Government thuggery precipitated by a corporate complaint! I’m in absolute fucking shock over here.
It’s not a surprise to me that News Corp. wanted this, or that a judge might have had any reason to be corrupt or stupid enough to sign off on it, or that the police felt empowered to carry it out. All of that makes sense to me. The thing is, each of those parties had more than sufficient knowledge and motivation to restrain themselves. If they actually nail Joe for something? Pyrrhic victory! And if they don’t? Worst bonehead civil action ever! Why would you blatantly and publicly piss on the Constitution and risk the whole kit and caboodle? Their public broadcasting licenses are at risk already! They’re:
In violation of license terms by having over 25% foreign ownership, news that came out in the past week
In the middle of a MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAJOR criminal investigation for hacking voicemails as an organization-wide practice
One of their commentators just intentionally misquoted the President a couple of days ago
Are they insane? You’re going to push yourself closer to oblivion because you want to search the apartment of a fucking video producer who worked on nothing but topical fluff commentator bullshit? REAAAAAAAAAAAALLLYY?
SHUT IT ALL DOWN
(And by the way, if you think this is “no big deal”, you should seriously consider moving the fuck out of the United States of America to somewhere where you have the privilege of having your decisions made for you in exchange for your no-fucking-responsibility approach. YOU ARE NOT PULLING YOUR WEIGHT. GTFO.)
So I FB-posted an article about "Girls" that I thought was great, because it was like: "Hey, this is a TV show, let's settle down about its significance and its implications," and it immediately triggered a vicious, personal comments war between two people I do not know and who I don't think know each other, and the experience led me to an important revelation which I would like to share with you:
We should all turn off our televisions and close our laptops and go outside and move our limbs and play with each other and laugh and smooch and wrestle, because we are all going to be dead in what will seem like 45 minutes and we are going to stay that way until the end of an infinite number of forevers.
From the Poetry Center Archive: Remembering Dave Nolan and Allen Ginsberg
This National Poetry Month, 92Y is proud to announce the founding of the Dave Nolan Poetry Series, in honor of our beloved audio archivist who passed away in 2010. 92Y’s vast archive of recordings dates back to the 1940s, and this month we’ll be celebrating Dave’s contribution to its preservation with new uploads to our Virtual Poetry Center, an on-going project which is in large part the product of Dave’s belief that the merit of an archive is measured by the extent to which it is shared.
To kick-off the series, we’ve chosen an excerpt from one of Dave’s favorite recordings—Allen Ginsberg in 1973. Ginsberg read with his father Louis that night, but what sets this recording apart—and what Dave loved about it—is how Ginsberg is heckled throughout by fellow Beat poet Gregory Corso, who keeps interrupting the show from his seat in the audience. “Dave and I both appreciated the anarchic spirit of that reading, rare among recordings at the Unterberg Poetry Center for its breaking down of the fourth wall,” remembers Thom Donovan, who himself contributed greatly to the utility of 92Y’s archive by creating meta-data for many hundreds of hours of programming.
The recording starts with Ginsberg reading “What would you do if you lost it?” and ends with some songs and a chant. Corso comes in around the 5:30 mark—and sticks around a while. “I’m the igniter for the dynamite,” he shouts at Ginsberg. “I’ll blow ‘em up!”
Like an offish breed of show dog, celebrities’ bloodlines intersect at a thousand points.
Nepotism, not talent or charm, appears to have raised them to their respective junctures of notoriety and wealth. As their family trees criss-cross more and more, the telltale totems of incest appear: idiocy, hemophilia, even madness.
The wagons have been circled for too long. The exclusivity of the gene pool has spelled the ruin of Tinsel Town’s artfulness. All the dream factory can produce anymore are sad remakes of TV serials and dumb comic strips: Spider Man, Charlie’s Angels, and The Brady Bunch.
The nation’s highest office is similarly tainted by heredity: two more George Bushes wait in the wings for their turn as president, drooling like bikers at a gangbang. The newest Kennedy is a cavefish who plays the banjo. Meanwhile, rock ‘n’ roll is lousy with Zack Bonhams, Sean Lennons, and Hank the Thirds.
…From every placard on every boulevard, the progeny of the famous beam down at us, announcing their latest celluloid escapade. The names of the stars are all tied to Byzantine dynasties: Sheen, Cage, Barrymore, Paltrow, Douglas, Baldwin, et al., and Hollywood’s new “who’s who” are their charmless nurslings. Gone are the days when tousle-haired moppets like Lana Turner could be scouted at the soda fountain. Now, the casting director is a Nazi-doctor, schooled in the pseudoscience of eugenics. What predicated this change from wild and woolly to wannabe? Is the heart of this Euro-idolatry white supremacy? Or is the answer more complex?
…The lineages of movie stars would be used as a totem to infer genealogical birthright and eugenic race theory. The “stars” were bred as a pagan constellation designed to imbue the population with a consciousness of their un-worth. The seeming normalcy and even mediocrity of this caste, who are rewarded with unimaginable fame and wealth, is meant to instill this inferiority complex in their spectators: obviously there must be something at work which the viewer can’t perceive, something mystical or perhaps even magical.
The paradigm of average ordination is Charlie Sheen, son of Martin Sheen.
A revered actor, Martin enjoyed the affection of critical elites and the so-called public. Charlie, then, merely by genealogical serendipity, enjoyed the film career of the accomplished thespian. He was anointed by his father’s mantle and now enjoys a life of wealth and carnality, never nuisanced by intellect or artfulness. His remarkable ordinariness was held up to the public as an alchemical expo: even this contemptible everyman is transmuted by blood into an entitled dauphin flower.
In Charlie Sheen’s flaccid hammery, the rest of humanity breathes in its insignificant, serf status. And yet, he - in his film roles, which are kitsch representations of “normal people,” and in actual life as the vessel of mediocrity - is lower than us, bringing him full circle as our equal.
…The bloodlines must be broken and their families forcibly relocated, kept ignorant of the whereabouts of their brethren. The children of the Hollywood and entertainment elite must be kidnapped, raised communally, re-named and re-educated, instead of being allowed to indoctrinate the next generation as to their destined roles due to divine right.
This year, I appointed 82 energetic, diverse and passionate New Yorkers to community boards—and half of them are under 40. Young people throughout Manhattan are reaching out to our office to say they want to take an active role in working on behalf of their neighborhoods. I support this wholeheartedly, and I love the energy and knowledge that these new board members will bring to the borough’s Community Boards.
There are nearly 3,000 community board members in Manhattan, and they work on serious issues from land use to liquor licenses to zoning regulations—they help shape the neighborhoods they live in. This year’s appointees will bring zeal and hard work to their communities, and they are eager to get started.
These new appointees will be a breath of fresh air for Manhattan’s community boards—and I look forward to the working with them to affect positive change in their neighborhoods.
"Alendi Vidal of Community Board 11 is 23 years old. In her spare time she tutors young people in the community, mentors students, and works to increase youth access to educational opportunities in the East Harlem community. She’s currently an intern at the Young Women’s Leadership School."
You can debate/analyze HBO’s “Girls” all you want, you can yell FUCK! I’m In My Twenties all you want, or you can be like Alendi and get involved in your community.