sock

Today's Links:

Two great articles today from my favorite British site, The Guardian. The first one is about the magnificent obsessions of Stanley Kubrick:

"'It's Futura Extra Bold," explains Tony. "It was Stanley's favourite typeface. It's sans serif. He liked Helvetica and Univers, too. Clean and elegant."

"Is this the kind of thing you and Kubrick used to discuss?" I ask.

"God, yes," says Tony. "Sometimes late into the night. I was always trying to persuade him to turn away from them. But he was wedded to his sans serifs.'"

more here: Citizen Kubrick

Golly, I love being vindicated!

In spite of all the accolades, I've always hated The Cranberries, hated hated hated. As soon as I hear Dolores O'Riordan singing about someone's "fingers" lingering, I start violently punching the tuner buttons. Over the years, I've had to endure listening to my male friends' fantasies about her. But now - AHA! Who has the last laugh? From the article:

"The nanny complained about being left alone with the child in a remote area, without a car, and said at one point Ms O'Riordan went "ballistic". Shouting "everyone is against me", she took the baby from the pram and ran towards the lake, Ms Fahy said. Mr Burton, who had been drinking, went upstairs and told Ms Fahy: "You're fucking fired and you know jack shit about horses.'"

Nanny tells how job with Cranberries star went sour (I'm a terrible person, I know)

Look of the day: California Rock n' Roll.

Today's Links:

That picture taken one week ago today. I'm willing to bet we'll get no more snow. That's a risky bet! As Prince says, "Sometimes It Snows In April" and he's right, because it snowed last April here in New York. As a sign of good faith that the snow is gone for good this year, I am hereby hurling my winter coat out the window and putting on my strappy sandals that I bought two months ago and have been staring forlornly at ever since. Get ready to see acres of fish-white flesh! Yay! Weather Underground

Hone your music-making skills: sheeps get their grooves on

100 Underrated Movies

Sorry I am unable to make the following link an official link, but it's worth taking the copy-and-paste effort to play this short, inventive, and stunning game:

http://www.freshsensation.com/samorost.swf

All I Wanted Was Some Nuggets!!!

Oh, Courtney, you never, ever let us down!

New York Post Online Edition: gossip [via Gawker]

Things I Love/Things I Hate v. 6

Another day, another annoyance. What can I say? They stack up like flapjacks in a diner. I was feeling rather guilty that every time I do a "Things I Love/Things I Hate" post these days, it's always just things I hate. No one likes a whiner. And then I realized that this entire blog, with the exception of this repeating column, is about things I love. So F all y'all!

Here's what I hate: feeling undervalued. At least I am in good company - this the principal new york condition. I don't think I know anyone that doesn't feel undervalued, other than my editor friend with whom I dined the other day who opined, "I wonder if they'll ever stop paying me big bucks?" Waiter? Another drink please.

To make a long story short, I recently responded to a job for which I am overqualifed and which is vastly, scandalously underpaid. They also warned me to expect working 60 hours a week - no overtime. It seemed so obvious that I should walk away, but because this is a hit show, I agreed to take the job. Not so fast, missy. I was told that my name would be "thrown into the mix" and that I should know the outcome on Thursday. Excuse me? "The MIX"?

The only solution was to throw on TI's "Rubberband Man" for validation. That song is all about the stuggle for recognition: "Who I be? Rubberband man, wild as the taliban, got a 9 in my right, 45 in my other hand. Who I is? Call me trouble man, I'm always in trouble man. Ain't I worth a couple hundred grand?"

Sigh. Ain't I worth a couple hundred grand?

Later research revealed that I was totally wrong about the lyrics. but I don't care.

The other thing I'm hating right now is those people who bought up EVERY Prince ticket at Madison Square Garden in 8 mintues and who are now selling them for over twice the price on Craigslist and EBay. Some people, ahem, who really wanted to see that show, and who would have been really happy and it probably would have been the greatest night ever, were unable to buy tickets.

I will say that one good thing came out of my Tickemaster.com experience, and that's the laughs that Ho-cakes and I shared over their nearly inpenetrable security section. They ask you to type in the word that you see in the box. Sometimes the words look like this, which is bad enough:

What? That's not even a word! And then I got this one:

What in the WORLD?

89 Seconds of Velazquez

This past weekend, we went to the Whitney to check out the Biennial. This is the third Biennial I have been to, and I hereby declare it the best. FYI: I am an utter neophyte when it comes to contemporary art, and rely solely on how awestruck I am in evaluating a piece. Very professional, yes?

For me, the highlight of the show was a video by Eve Sussman called "89 Seconds in Alcazar".

FILMMAKER MAGAZINE | BLOG describes it well:

"89 Seconds at Alcazar is a new project by 42-year-old film/video artist Eve Sussman that brings Diego Velasquez's 1656 painting "Las Meninas" ("Maids of Honor") to life in High Definition digital video.

The 12-minute video, which premiered at the 2004 Whitney Biennial (March 11 - May 30), is a 360-degree Steadicam recreation of the salon of the Alcazar (the Palace of the Hapsburgs).

With actors in full costume on a set that reproduces the room in the painting, Sussman imagines the activity -- bristling with the tensions of the royal household, which seem to affect even the long-suffering pet dog -- that might have preceded and followed the split-second arrangement of Velazquez's virtual photograph.

It's a superb concept, one that reflects our hunger for back story and sequel.

The little infanta, Margarita, her attendants and the artist himself, busy at his easel, pause to acknowledge her parents, Spain's Philip IV and Queen Mariana, who have just entered the room and are reflected in the mirror on the far wall in the backdrop. But since the king and queen occupy the position we do -- that is, of observer coming upon the scene -- it's as if Margarita and the court are acknowledging us.

Or maybe not. Perhaps Margarita and company are actually looking in a mirror, and that's what Velazquez is painting, the king and queen being nothing more than an image on the wall. Either way, it's a fabulous conceit."

The original Velazquez:

In addition, the presentation of the video is spectacular - you enter a dark room, and the video is projected onto a 30-foot wall. This enormous scale and the surround sound lend an extraordinary sense of intimacy that makes you feel like a witness in the proceedings. It is a brilliant way not only to connect you with the original Velazquez and the era in which it was painted, but also to how we look at art today. For me, it was an unforgettable experience, and one of the few times I have ever been utterly blown away by the vision and execution of an artist.

other highlights:

Cecily Brown's Black Paintings:

Robert Longo's Untitled series:

Frieday

I stayed out laaaaate last night. And I be feelin' it today, so there's really not too much to say except thank god for Courtney Love. She is the gift that keeps on giving.

Gothamist: For the Love of Paparazzi
Anonymous Outsider
whatevs (dot org) | p.h.c.f.y.s.b.

Someone Please Save Us From Ourselves

I'm really starting to think that there needs to be some legislature enacted about public cellphone usage. Actually, scratch that - there needs to be some legislature about public behavior.

New York City (and virtually every city) is getting more and more crowded every year. It seems the greater the number of people around you, the less civilized you have to act. And I'm not talking about just pushing and shoving to get on the subway - I'm talking about screaming on the streets, ignoring the person next to you, cutting in line - things that happen every day around me. At this point, there's not much stopping me from acting like a boor. There is palpably less public pressure to behave graciously. And just wait unilt it gets hot.

Cell phones are the tip of the iceberg; I know that. I have a cellphone. I'd like to think that I use it in a discreet and non-offensive way. I'm not one of those people who stops dead in my tracks if I am on the phone, forcing everyone on the sidewalk to run flat into my back. I never talk on it if I'm in a restaurant. I go outside if I have to. If it rings and I am with someone else, I always make sure the conversation is VERY, VERY brief. You know why? Because I'm perfect.

I used to go out with this guy who, I swear, would grandstand every time his cellphone rang. He would make a big show of snapping it open, then he'd talk really loud and start pacing around in a big, conspicious circle. He did this everywhere - restaurants, barnes and noble, coffeeshops, the street. He knew I didn't like it but didn't care. He loved his cellphone more than me. And you know what else? He talked about his cellphone. A lot. He often talked about getting a phone with more features. He would show me all the things his cellphone could do, over and over. Yeah, you and your big hard cellphone.

One thing that drives me nuts is when I see people on their cellphones in my gym. There are signs EVERYWHERE that says it's gym policy that cellphones are not allowed. That seems to stop no one. People will climb away on their stairclimber and have endless non-business conversations, all the while ignoring my angry glares. It's infuriating that I have to be the asshole in a situation like that. And now that people have caught on that no one's going to stop them, more people are starting to do it. See what I mean? An EROSION OF CIVILITY. It's a slippery slope.

I was in the public library today which has a very obvious sign that reads, "Turn your cellphones off." Maybe it's just me, but I would take that to mean that there should be no cellphone usage in the library, because libraries tend to be very quiet places. But no, sadly not only were there plenty of cellphone rings, there were people (and by that I mean more than one) who would astoundingly answer their phones and talk on them openly, with absolutely no intention of taking it outside. How do these people live with themselves?

I guess you can take the girl out of Georgia, but you can't take the Georgia out of the girl. I realize that I often post about etiquette and it's starting to make me feel like a real prude. I will try to open my mind a little bit. But I know I am not totally wrong about all this.

Agent X Activities: Edie's Debut

Edie is coming of age. It's sweet, tender, and magical to witness her delicate transformation from shivering puppy to shivering dog. Agent X and N., the parents of Edie, have of late noticed a gleam in her eye and a spring in her step. Yes, it's time to explore the world beyond the nest. I am deeply honored that I was invited to witness one of Edie's very first ventures into a big, scary world - the dog run.

Washington Square Park features two dog runs admist the drug dealers and drum circles - a dog run for big dogs and a dog run for little dogs. I was a little apprehensive about releasing Edie into the little dog run because some of those dogs were NOT very little, but Agent X and N. stoically put Edie on the ground and watched as she took her tentative first steps.

They are good parents. While they kept a watchful eye on Edie, they refused to give her quarter when she wanted to hide on her parents' laps. As we all might remember from our first days of Pre-K, socializing is scary. But she did great! She gradually loosened up and started approaching some of the other, bigger dogs (and, face it, every dog is bigger than her).

After she had charmed everyone in there, it was time to go home.

Can you EVEN stand it?

Yet Again, My Neighbor the Signster

He's at it again. Usually, my neighbor puts signs in his window that have some kind of inscrutable political content, but this time....well, it seems there's some sexual confusion.

What's weird is I don't think I've ever seen this guy, even though he lives right across the street from me. You'd think after three years here, I'd have seen him toting in his signs (WHERE does he get them?) or mounting them, something. My theory is that he's in his 40s and lives with his mother. Perhaps it's time to turn out the lights and break out the 30x night-vision telescope - I mean, binoculars.

To see his previous signs, click on the link below that says "THE SIGNS".

If I Could I Would Give U the World

Congratulations, Prince!

Prince will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame tonight at the Waldorf Astoria. His inducers: Outkast and Alicia Keys. I'm fine with that, but I really feel like Stevie Wonder, or someone of his stature, should do it. I mean, we're talking about Prince here. He's no mere mortal.

Prince's talents are legion: producer, arranger, lyricist, performer, international badass. Only Prince can talk about god and sex in the same song and make it all just transcendant. I'm not embarassed to admit that Prince has gotten me through many events in my life - everything from breakups to running the marathon. I heart him. HEART HIM.

Other inductees tonight: George Harrison, ZZ Top, Jackson Browne, Traffic, Bob Seger, and The Dells. And if you've got 77 bucks, you can see Prince perform tonight at The Exit nightclub.

Prince is also going on tour soon. You can either watch the premiere live in a movie theater or live in your home town: NPG MUSIC CLUB | Official Home of Prince and The NPG