Thursday, May 24, 2018

the letdown

I'm reminded of this Gunshow cartoon daily. Not least when I listen to NPR news most mornings. I should turn it off as soon as "Bird Note" is over.
The daily betrayals enrage me.
This is journalism? The "both-sides" fallacy, allowing practiced media reps to spout talking points without so much as an interruption, a fact check, a "scuse me?"
I cancelled my NY Times subscription not long ago. It was costing a lot and I wondered at the bend-over-backwards kind of journalism I kept seeing. About how to understand racists.
About the "real America."
This trope reminds me of the "beach body" fallacy. Women's magazines are forever coaching us on how to get that beach body.
Well here's something. I have a body, and I can go to the beach. Et voila.
I'm American and last time I checked I'm real.
Just because I live in the PNW and happen to believe that Nazis are bad and systematic racism is bad and the government should keep the hell away from my body and my rights, doesn't suddenly negate any of the previous sentence.
I'm thinking of getting a New Yorker subscription. Ronan Farrow has been killing it.

Saturday, May 19, 2018


I'm thinking about starting a sometimes blog feature called Style Icon.
Beautiful objects have saved me, so many times.
I exaggerate not.
Now, the city in which I live is not known for style, as such. But some of us do have steez, style, lewks, whatever you want to call it. Oftentimes it's an unpredictable mix of thrift store finds. Or a particular genre, strictly adhered to. Or a passion for color.  Or maybe just an irrepressible sense of fun.
I know folkx who rock the oddest ensembles and the best part is, especially in my neighborhood, no one blinks an eye, unless it's an admiring one.
So, I'm thinking about ?'s to ask--influences, likes and dislikes, most and least spent, etc--and how to make it visual and I'm excited already.
As the ever-irrepressible Santino Rice sang, "Lighten up, it's just fashion."

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

this is we are

It's at 123, 000, 000 views and counting. I've seen it at least a half dozen times, once with the sound off. I've read opinion pieces and analysis, raves and rips. Childish Gambino's "This is America" is art, political commentary, opinion, a provocation, a brave, belligerent, intelligent poke at all of us smug assholes patting ourselves on the back for electing a black president and then acting like the sins of the past are over and forgiven.

Saturday, May 12, 2018

vogue was my escape hatch

Check out this interview in the Guardian with the great Andre Leon Talley.
I've enjoyed his editorial missives in the pages of American Vogue and astute, loving, judging-slash-mentoring on ANTM ("it's gauche, darling").
Read about him finding his place in the fashion world:
"It didn’t occur to him to question whether he would belong in this crowd. 'I felt like I was included, because there were people I wanted to be like – eccentric, original, people who were artists, writers: Truman Capote, I so identified with him.'"
Growing up homeschooled, religious and poor in the PNW, growing up before internet and cell phones and almost never allowed to watch TV, I relied on the public library as my peephole to the secular world. I wasn't allowed to bring home fashion magazines, so I'd plant myself in Periodicals with a stack. Vogue was my favorite; I loved the fantasy and aspirational nature of the ads and the fashion spreads. The beautiful ridiculous breath-taking clothes and shoes and jewels. Of course I couldn't wear Christian Lacroix, there was no place within 100 miles that would ever remotely even carry the label, but I could look at the glossy photos, the glaring models, the airbrushed oddities, and dream.

Thursday, May 10, 2018

buddhism and open mics

Reading this interview with Charles Johnson inspired me.
I've been attempting to go to open mic's but fear often gets in the way.
Here, he talks about not just reading--performing!
The video gives more examples of his thoughtful, humanistic approach.

Saturday, May 5, 2018

bsp videos don't sleep on 'em