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Ethel the Blog
Observations (and occasional brash opining) on science, computers, books, music and other shiny things that catch my mind's eye. There's a home page with ostensibly more permanent stuff. This is intended to be more functional than decorative. I neither intend nor want to surf on the bleeding edge, keep it real, redefine journalism or attract nyphomaniacal groupies (well, maybe a wee bit of the latter). The occasional cheap laugh, raised eyebrow or provocation of interest are all I'll plead guilty to in the matter of intent. Bene qui latuit bene vixit.

The usual copyright stuff applies, but I probably won't get enraged until I find a clone site with absolutely no attribution (which, by the way, has happened twice with some of my other stuff). Finally, if anyone's offended by anything on this site then please do notify me immediately. I like to keep track of those times when I get something right.

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Saturday, May 20, 2000

SMITHSONIAN DATABASES
The
Smithsonian Institution has a growing collection of searchable databases for its collections. Several of them have graphical components including:
posted by Steven Baum 5/20/2000 11:23:30 AM | link

Friday, May 19, 2000

STIR IT UP
I've been a admirer of
Gene Santoro's pieces in The Nation (as well as several other places) whenever I've had the pleasure to find and read them (I'm a notoriously irregular reader of most periodicals, reading specific publications regularly for at most a few months at a time until something shinier distracts me.) Imagine my pleasure at finding his latest collection Stir It Up: Musical Mixes from Roots to Jazz for less than a fin in the bargain bin at the local university pseudo-bookstore. His essays run the musical gamut from pop to blues to rock to world to jazz. I'll offer a few examples from his marvelous prose about that last category, i.e. my current obsession. About Thelonious Monk (the documentary about whom called Straight No Chaser is highly recommended, nay, mandatory viewing if you can find it down at the rental shoppe):
Monk's sense of rhythm was like no one else's, in his writing or his execution. Partly that's due to his roots, which ran deep in Harlem stride piano, filtered through later influences like the spare, crisp keyboard work of Count Basie. It was from these influences that Monk began to develop what would become one key aspect of his sonic signature: the jagged, floating spaces that erupt and spread between his angular phrases and crushed cords. It was almost as if his notion of harmonic space (especially his favorite intervals, the flatted seconds and ninths) was collapsing into ever tinier increments, while the space between runs and even individual note choices was becoming ever more unpredictable. In that sense, listening to Monk's music is like having the burgeoning notion of entropy in the universe enacted in sound.
About Charles Mingus:
As famous for brawling and brooding and womanizing as for musical genius, Charles Mingus is one of the most fascinating, contradictory, turbulent, and important figures of jazz's first century. (In 1994, Mingus became the first jazzer to have the Library of Congress acquire his archives.) And he knew it. He was a gargantuan figure with a huge ego, a deeply spiritual streak, bruising insecurities, and insatiable appetites: his love for art, from music to writing to film, was like his love for women: all-embracing and all-consuming, a Whitmanlike gathering of possibilities.
About John Coltrane:
Trane's dilemma embodies a basic tension that still exists: what is jazz, anyway? The question is unresolved, largely because it's unresolvable - though that isn't gonna stop anyone, as usual. Theologians don't like compromise, and each jazz faction, from mainstream neocons to jazz's status quo, traditionally accuses the vanguardists of the moment of not being able to play. What that really means, naturally, is that they can't or won't play the day's dominant idiom - swing or dixieland for boppers, bop for free jazzers, and so on. I suspect that this is what avantjazzers mean when they counterattack that what they play reflects their time, and that their sectarian opponents are whistling into the past.
That last passage reminds me of Traps the Drum Wonder the biography of Buddy Rich (by his long-time pal Mel Torme) I finished a few days ago. Buddy - an ardent swinger - couldn't stand the be-boppers of the 1950s (except for perhaps Lionel Hampton) and continually disparaged the drummers for their inability to swing. Buddy was never happier than when driving a full swing band from behind his Slingerlands.

Santoro also profiles Paul Simon, David Byrne, Aretha Franklin, Sam Cooke, Abbey Lincoln, Julius Hemphill, Bob Marley, Gilberto Gil, Manu Digango and many others in his book. It looks to be a fine book for reading through or for the occasional dip, and it's going on top of the pile in the meditation room.
posted by Steven Baum 5/19/2000 04:07:12 PM | link

GORING GORE
The
Daily Howler does a nice job of deconstructing a recent hatchet job on Gore by the "liberal" Boston Globe. The overall spin of the Globe article - written by Walter Robinson and Michael Crowley - is that Gore's credibility may be as bad as or even worse than Clinton's. They state that:
Earlier fears that Gore would be hobbled by President Clinton's character failings have abated. Now, it is Gore's credibility that could become an issue.
which can be paraphrased as "unfortunately Gore isn't being hobbled by Clinton's character failings, so we have to try real hard to make his credibility an issue."

Their very first example of Gore's supposed prevarications - the same example they devote more space to than any other - concerns the civil rights record of his father, Al Gore Sr., a Senator from Tennessee from 1953 through 1971. According to Robinson and Crowley:

Since his father died 16 months ago, the vice president has described the elder Gore in several speeches, including one last April before an NAACP audience, as an early champion for civil rights during his three Senate terms from 1953 through 1971.
They follow this with a claim that - since the elder Gore voted against the Civil Rights Act of 1964 - Gore Jr. is a sleazy liar not averse to even lying about his own father to further his political ambitions.

Let's contrast their accusation with a passage from a biography of Gore written last year by Bob Zelnick. Zelnick's book was published by Zegnery Press, a conservative publishing house, and was the standard sort of lengthy hatchet piece on the opposition that each party churns out on a regular basis. Zelnick summarizes a long section about the civil rights record of Gore Sr., Estes Kefauver and Gov. Frank Clement thusly:

The actions of Gore, Kefauver, and, at the state level, Clement, and their courage and decency on the civil rights issue, would be more a source of political trouble than benefit in Tennessee, though none of the three ever lost an election because of his position, at least until Gore's defeat in his 1970 campaign. Each reelection would be challenged and each man would be accused of being "out of touch" with sentiment in the state, or worse yet, a traitor to his region, his heritage, and his people. None of the three ever backed down. None ever engaged in racial demagoguery. None would ever require sympathetic chroniclers to explain that his conduct had to be judged in the context of his time and its political exigencies. Their courage would inspire later generations of southerners who sought to purge the region of its terrible racial heritage.
The elder Gore did indeed vote against the Civil Rights Act of 1964, largely as a matter of political survival, although he later apologized for the vote and called it the biggest mistake of his career. A profile of Gore Sr. by David Maraniss and Ellen Nakashima in the Washington Post summarizes his career after that regretted vote of 1964 as:
[Sen. Gore] won reelection that fall [1964] and returned to Washington, where from then on he acted like an unflinching Southern progressive attuned to the needs of his black constituents. He voted for the 1965 Voting Rights Act and the 1968 Fair Housing Act, opposed President Nixon's two Southern nominees for the Supreme Court.

As Sen. Gore became more outspoken on issues of race and peace over the next six years, his standing in Tennessee deteriorated, his liberal positions were portrayed as contrary to the state's values, and he was defeated in the 1970 election.

Robinson and Crowley strain to rewrite history solely for the purpose of calling Gore Jr. a liar. They would have one regretted vote in 1964 trump the progressive civil rights record (as glowingly described by conservative hatchet man Zelnick) of Gore Sr. over an 18 year career in the Senate, which ended because of his civil rights positions. Better to paint Gore Sr. as a hood-wearing Kluxer than to lose a single precious item in their "Al's a liar" list.

Robinson and Crowley's claims about Gore's supposedly exaggerated tenure as a journalist and lies about where he went to school are equally insubstantial. The Howler similarly deconstructs a hatchet piece on Shrub written by Peter Keating for George magazine. The sad thing about both pieces is that both candidates have told demonstrably concrete lies that deserve more scrutiny, yet such pieces as these two obsess over trivialities that can only be construed as lies by the willfully obstinate. Bread and circuses, indeed.
posted by Steven Baum 5/19/2000 03:16:33 PM | link

Thursday, May 18, 2000

ACID DREAMS
As an addendum to the fine exposition of a Web cache of
MKULTRA documents over at enjoy the fall, it behooves me to mention Acid Dreams (1985) by Martin A. Lee and Bruce Shlain. MKULTRA is well-documented in this book, e.g. concerning a speech given in 1953 by CIA director Allen Dulles (who probably did more than Timothy Leary to effect the spread of LSD):
In a speech before the National Alumni Conference at Princeton University on April 10, 1953, newly appointed CIA director Allen Dulles lectured his audience on "how sinister the battle for men's minds had become in Soviet hand." The human mind, Dulles warned, was a "malleable tool," and the Red Menace had secretly developed "brain perversion techniques." Some of these methods were "so subtle and so abhorrent to our way of life that we have recoiled from facing up to them." Dulles continued, "The minds of selected individuals who are subjected to such treatment ... are deprived of the ability to state their own thoughts. Parrot-like, the individuals so conditioned can merely repeat the thoughts which have been implanted in their minds by suggestion from outside. In effect the brain ... become a phonograph playing a disc put on its spindle by an outside genius over which it has no control."
Dulles authorized Operation MKULTRA three days after this speech. I'd personally find this a lot more chilling if I didn't see the astounding effectiveness of such tactics in service to truth, justice and the American Way (i.e. consumerism). How else can one explain the effectiveness of ads for clothing (Gap, etc.), vehicles (SUVs, minivans), beer (lite this, that and the other thing) that sell trainloads of the products they're shilling? My too goddamned many years at Texas A&M have also shown the astounding effectiveness of bullshit propaganda techniques over reason. Basically a pack of reasonably talented, quasi-rational high-schoolers from all parts of Texas are transmogrified over four years into the absolute worst kind of deluded prima donnas, utterly convinced that if there is a god then he (NOT she) is an aggie and that, indeed, come judgment day, the first 100,000 through the pearly gates will be aggies. That's right, even the equally psychotic protestants elsewhere are lesser than "God's chosen people."

To be continued.
posted by Steven Baum 5/18/2000 11:35:44 PM | link

Wednesday, May 17, 2000

GOOD KURDS, BAD KURDS
The horrific treatment of the Kurds in Turkey dates back to the establishment of the Turkish republic in 1923. While Ataturk, the founder of Turkey, originally stated that year that predominantly Kurdish provinces would administer their own affairs "in an autonomous manner," he quickly changed his mind. The very next year he abolished the Caliphate, i.e. all Kurdish schools, associations, publications, cultural activities, religious fraternities and teaching foundations were banned. This led to the first great Kurdish rebellion of 1925 led by Shaikh Said. The response was brutal, i.e. from 1925-1928 over 10,000 houses were destroyed, 15,000 Kurds killed, and 500,000 became refugees of whom it is estimated 200,000 perished. This rebellion caused a relatively liberal prime minister to be replaced by Ismet Inonu, who stated:
We are openly nationalist. Nationalism is the only cause that keeps us together. Beside the Turkish majority, none of the other ethnic elements shall have any impact. We shall, at any price, turkicize those who live in our country, and destroy those who rise up against the Turks and Turkdom.
A larger rebellion from 1928-1930 - which started in the area around Mount Ararat - led to more deaths and deportations. The deportations started as reprisals against specific rebelling tribes, but eventually become part of a policy for the "turkification" of the region, which also included banning the Kurdish language, dress, folklore, and even the word "Kurd." Another 40,000 are estimated to have been killed from the fallout of this rebellion, along with probably another half-million refugees. The estimated total up until the permanent state of siege was relaxed in 1950 was 1.5 million deported or massacred, with the death rate among refugees being extremely high. The entire area of Turkey populated by Kurds was declared out of bounds to foreigners until 1965, at which point things were relatively peaceful until a military coup in 1980, at which point the repression and slaughter was pursued with renewed vigor. The legal status of the Turkish Kurds is well summed up by:
In the Turkish Constitution the phrase "anybody who opposes the indivisibility of the Turkish Republic with its nation and its country, will be deprived of their basic human rights and freedom" is mentioned thirty-three times. In addition to this, and according to the Turkish Criminal Law (para. 125), the Anti-Terror Law (para. 8) and a number of the other Laws, anyone who tries to divide the country, who says that there is more than one nation in Turkey, who acts on or organizes on the basis of this matter, can be punished by various penalties including imprisonment and execution.
The post-coup renewal of repression led to the formation of the Kurdish Worker's Party (KPP) in 1984, at which time the KPP began attacking police posts and other state installations. The state responded with increased ferocity with mass arrests, interrogation, torture, and trials in martial law courts that were travesties of international standards of justice. The military government admits that it can't tell a PKK activist from someone who isn't, so the entire Kurdish population is subjected to "security raids" in which people are abused, tortured, disappeared and extrajudicially executed. These tactics have increased PKK recruitment, and the violence increases as the cycle continues.

An especially worthless program was the military government's "provisional village guards" program. Villages were asked to "volunteer" people who would be armed to ostensibly guard their villages against PKK attacks. If a village said yes, then their guards were used for raids against neighboring villages and they would be added to the PKK hit list. If a village said no, then they received at best frequent "security raids" and at worst were forcibly evacuated and burnt to the ground. This "damned if you do or don't" program led to the partial or complete depopulation of 3185 settlements between 1984 and 1997, according to a Turkish Deputy Prime Minister. This has of course gone hand in hand with thousands killed and tens to hundreds of thousands living (and dying quickly) in shanty towns.

But what Kurds do we hear about in the media? The "good" Kurds in Iraq who are being repressed and killed by Saddam Hussein. If there is any report at all about the Turkish Kurds it will contain the phrase "communist insurgents" in an attempt to paint the reaction to nearly 70 years of institutionalized ethnic cleansing by the Turkish government as something invented by Karl Marx. This leads to a ridiculous mental picture of a Kurd standing at the Turkey-Iraq border and alternately becoming a vicious Marxist insurgent killer or a pitiful helpless refugee as he jumps back and forth across the border.

When it comes to the slaughter of Kurds, the Turkish government makes Saddam Hussein look like a piker. But not only is Turkey not demonized like Iraq, but it is seen as a friend and sold massive quantities of armaments to continue the slaughter. And, while official State Department reports contain the usual phrases about "regrettable excesses" regarding the slaughter of Kurds by Turkey, it is not listed as a "terrorist state" along with Iraq, Libya, Cuba and the other usual suspects. (Although even Iraq has only been an official enemy for about 12 years, before which the "Hitler of our time" was stocked generously with weapons - with which to fight then-evil Iran - by the same countries who later formed the coalition to stop him after he invaded the Bush Oil Company, er, Kuwait.)

Sources: Turkey: Focus on Human Rights; A Brief History of the Kurds in Turkey; Mad Dreams of Independence: The Kurds of Turkey and the PKK
posted by Steven Baum 5/17/2000 11:09:30 AM | link

HABS/HAER
The
Historic American Buildings Survey and Historic American Engineering Record (HABS/HAER) document architectural, engineering and industrial sites in the U.S. The documentation is available at the Built in America section of the Library of Congress, wherein it states:
As of March 1998, America's built environment has been recorded through surveys containing more than 363,000 measured drawings, large-format photographs, and written histories for more than 35,000 historic structures and sites dating from the seventeenth to the twentieth century. This first release adds digital images to the searchable on-line catalog records, including images of the pages of written histories for all HAER surveys and about 25% of HABS surveys, 17% of the HAER survey photographs and a small sampling of the HABS and HAER measured drawings. Additional digital images will be added monthly. As an example, the on-line catalog record for the Beebe Windmill in Suffolk County, New York, shows how the full range of documentation for a survey will be displayed once it has been digitized.
The collection can be accessed via keyword, subject or geographic location. They also have a selected image gallery featuring many of the images that are currently available which can be accessed geographically or by image title.

Related LOC collections and exhibits include:


posted by Steven Baum 5/17/2000 10:20:27 AM | link

Tuesday, May 16, 2000

CAR NAZIS MUST DIE
The campus is deserted. You can't swing a dead cat without hitting five empty parking spaces. So I'm biking in and who but Cindy Lou Dumbass - the dumbest aggie of all (well, at least today) - roars past me in daddy's Mercedes, cutting me off from the right as she grabs one of the last 12 precious head-in parking spaces (i.e. all of them) to the left. Dad's lil' precious missed me by about a foot. I turned around, went back, and asked her why she did it. "Did what?," was her clueless reply. I'd like to say I explained what she did and her heart grew five sizes, but I just turned around and rode away, muttering under my breath about what I'd do if I could find a surplus tank. Or, even better,
if I had a rocket launcher.
posted by Steven Baum 5/16/2000 09:16:04 AM | link

THE DUKE AND THE COUNT
Tonight's ruminations are brought to you by - in addition to the usual boozy sponsors - an album first cut in 1961 by the combined forces of two of the greatest jazz bands of the 20th century.
First Time! The Count Meets the Duke is a digitally remastered version of a jazz classic which, from the opening ten pounds of whup-ass of "Battle Royal" to the fresh and slightly skewed version of "Take the A-Train" to the killer "Jumpin' at the Woodside" finale, is just about as good as it gets. And, as an added bonus, you can snag a cutout version for $7. That's right, for less than half the price of some ephemeral disk you're going to hate in six months you can pick up something you'll enjoy forever.
posted by Steven Baum 5/16/2000 01:09:59 AM | link

OLLIE
There's a bit of a competition among reviewers of Gladiator to see who can come up with the funniest line concerning the alcohol-related death of the late Oliver Reed, who plays Proximo in the film. Anthony Lane of
The New Yorker offers:
Reed, who plays an ex-gladiator named Proximo, died during the making of the film - of drink, needless to say, the blood having long since passed from his alcohol-stream.
In The Nation, Stuart Klawans weighs in with:
He died during the making of Gladiator, perhaps from the strain of being changed into a virtuous character.
The Daily Radar gives us the less witty but thoroughly graphic:
And Oliver Reed lends the movie at least 50% of its ubermacho gravitas as Proximo, the fiery gladiator owner/trainer who brings Maximus to Rome and eventually becomes his mentor. A towering, ruddy-faced onscreen presence, Reed carved out a legendary multidecade career playing a succession of hard-drinkin', hard-fightin' blood-and-thunder heroes, and in this, his final role, he steals the show, chewing up the screen with relish -- right up to the point, in fact, when he drinks himself to death during filming and has to be replaced for his final scenes by body doubles and some not-altogether-convincing CGI work.
Please do clue me in if I've missed any especially juicy Ollie tidbits. The great thing is that Ollie would have enjoyed each of these shots and, indeed, would probably have done a fine job one-upping them. He sure as hell wouldn't have argued about the booze, as we find in the quotation section of a fan site:
You meet a better class of people in pubs.

I do not live in the world of sobriety.

My only regret is that I didn't drink every pub dry and sleep with every woman on the planet.

I have made many serious statements-- I just can't remember any of them. I guess they mustn't have been very important...

Reed made careful plans for his demise:
Death in Ireland is always a celebration of a life that has been well lived. I've been to some fearsome wakes and I've had some fearsome hangovers burying the dead. When I die I want all my friends to have a glorious wake. That's why I've left £10,000 out of my estate to be spent at my local pub. But only those who are crying --and I don't mean shedding crocodile tears-will be allowed in. The solicitor who helped me draw up The Last Will and Testament of Oliver Reed (Mr England) was worried about this clause. He explained to me that these matters have to go to probate and that he couldn't see himself standing in front of a judge in chambers, trying to argue how you can tell the difference between crying and pretending to cry. 'And besides that,' he said, 'does it mean there will have to be some sort of sob check at the door of the saloon bar?' He wanted the clause taken out but I made him leave it in.It's his problem, not mine. My worry is how long I've got before the piss-up that I won't be attending.
and was quite the deep thinker concerning the final dispensation of his mortal remains:
I have left no instructions for my refrigeration but I do care about what happens to my body when I am no longer in it. I don't want to be laid out for days in my best Douggie Hayward, silk pyjamas, rugger jersey or whatever, and have people gawping at me to see what a dead hellraiser looks like. I don't like the idea of lying there with my insides rotting and my bowels sqeezed clean so that I don't stink.

And I don't want to be a burnt offering, either. I have witnessed cremations. Seen the body enter the flames, start to buck and twist in the heart of the inferno and fry in its own fat until finally the skull, the thickest bone in the body, disintegrates. As my skull is a good deal thicker than most, there will not be time for the flames to shoot out of my eye sockets before it crumbles and only my femur is left and then that, too, joins the communal pile of ashes, some of which will be scooped into a little box, claimed to be mine and sent to my next of kin. My familiarity with all these grisly details makes my fear of waking up just as I am about to slide into the flames a thousand times more terrifying.

Alternatively, I don't want to inherit my six feet of earth so that maggots can have a ball crawling up my nose and out of my mouth. And burial at sea is also definitely out. Who wants to be gobbled up by a big fish and become excrement that gets eaten by a sardine whose excrement is swallowed up by a prawn? I can't say I relish the thought of lying on a lettuce leaf, smothered with mayonnaise, being nibbled at by a pretty girl and then when I have passed through her body, being flushed into a sewer and then into the sea again. I don't want to be permanent shit. I would much rather end up a fertiliser under a sunflower which is eventually made into sunflower seed oil so that instead of nibbling me in her prawn cocktail, the pretty girl will rub me on her bristols as the suns herself on a beach in the Caribbean.

I regret that I never had the chance to booze it up with such a legendary sot.
posted by Steven Baum 5/16/2000 12:36:58 AM | link

Monday, May 15, 2000

WHATEVER HE WANTS
I've seen it a couple of times while channel surfing, but I just don't get the
monstrous popularity of "Millionaire". Last week one of their celebrity shows had more viewers than the rest of the networks combined, and it's kicking ass on all three days it's on. The programmers on other networks are soiling themselves and running screaming into the streets. I still don't get it, but then again I've never gotten the lottery thing either. I dread what this means for prime time TV, though. We've already seen how much Fox will lower the bar, and the thought of WB and UPN following up in their own inimitable "styles" just makes me shudder. Things haven't been this grim since "Happy Days" "inspired" "Joanie Loves Chachi".
posted by Steven Baum 5/15/2000 03:44:34 PM | link

METASTUFF
From elsewhere:

posted by Steven Baum 5/15/2000 03:26:20 PM | link

MY LACK OF GOD!
While J. Bottum's cranky piece
The Soundtracking of America has more than its share of corking good riffs, the argument it advances boils down to not much more than "culture - especially music - has gone to hell in a handbasket since we don't all believe in the same god any more." For evidence I supply the following three excerpts from the last page of his three-page online article:
...the old cultural knowledge was not meaningful because it was shared; it was shared because it was meaningful. It all fit into a frame, a generally accepted public system of belief about the way God and history and the world work.

... a glimpse of the real depths -- a world where, even if only tragically, God and man and nature still make sufficient sense that there can be a cathartic purpose to the emotion the music evokes.

Do we actually feel as much as Beethoven's Enlightenment listeners, for whom his thunder echoed in a landscape of generally accepted ideas about God and man and nature?

While I agree that the present need to make one's life a continual soundtrack is annoying, I do so because I enjoy an occasional moment of silence rather than because I think emotions invoked by music are less valid if not experienced in the context of a shared deity.

Bottum - chief cultural commissar at the Weekly Standard - makes a lot more sense when he, strangely enough, quotes from the "Marxist rants" of Theodor Adorno, e.g.

"The culture industry perpetually cheats its consumers of what it perpetually promises," Adorno wrote. "All it actually confirms is that the real point will never be reached, that the diner must be satisfied with the menu."
Like many reactionary commentators, Bottums is pathologically incapable of making a connection between a consumer culture in which everything becomes commodified - including religion - and the concomitant dumbing down of everything. Widget sales are maximized by increasing consumer desire, and those desires are maximized by appealing to the basest of human desires. That isn't exactly a recipe for creating the high, deep sort of culture Bottums and his comrades so desperately desire, i.e.
...the higher arts that could aim at a unified idea and a public metaphysics, a purpose and meaning for our all-encircling noise.
In the most unintentionally ironic part of his rant, Bottums likens the way we listen to music, i.e. popular culture without a deeper meaning supplied by a deity, to:
Hesse's Glass Bead Game: a complex and sophisticated rite filled with delicate connections perceived by its priestly scholastics, lacking any meaning, and consuming the culture's intellectual and emotional energy.
Is there any better way - note the use of the word "priestly" - of describing the current state of organized religion? So much for finding God as a way of returning to those supposedly wonderful days of high culture, i.e. when the church ruled and "choosing" religion was the way to live rather than a way of life.

It's a shame that someone capable of writing such wonderfully eviscerating prose as:

Perhaps it was Hollywood that taught us to expect life to come with background music, a constant melodic commentary on the movie of our lives. But we are soundtracked nowadays with relentless demands for only the most obvious and officially appropriate emotions. You should be as bright and bubble-gummy as the Monkees' "I'm a Believer" when you shop for a new pair of blue jeans. You ought to be as sophisticatedly ironic as Frank Sinatra's "They've Got an Awful Lot of Coffee in Brazil (The Coffee Song)" when you go out to eat. There's something wrong if you aren't as moody and melancholy as the Cowboy Junkies' whispery version of "Sweet Jane" when you sit in a midtown bar. Popular urban chains such as Pottery Barn and Starbucks even sell CDs of the proper ambient melodies for shopping in their stores.
is equally incapable of concluding anything from it other than "gimme dat ol' time religion."
posted by Steven Baum 5/15/2000 02:12:10 PM | link


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hotendotey
hypocrisy network
jerkcity
last cereal
leisure town
logos
london times
mappa mundi
miscmedia
mp3lit
mr. chuck show
mr. serpent
national geographic
new scientist
no depression
not bored
obscure store
onion
on-line books
parking lot is full
pearly gates
phrase and fable
probe
red meat
rough guides
salon
Simpleton
sluggy freelance
spacemoose
spike
straight dope
strenua inertia
suck
superosity
tawdry town
too much coffee man
toon inn
verbivore
vidal index
yes minister
you damn kid





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