Here’s the thing: I will always want more women’s (and feminist) voices in the mainstream media, particularly in politics. There’s an overwhelming byline gender gap and that needs to change. But The Washington Post’s new lady blog, “She the People,” is not a step in the right direction….
543 “Men hang out their signs indicative of their respective trades: shoemakers hang out a gigantic shoe; jewelers a monster watch; and the dentist hangs out a gold tooth; but in the mountains of New Hampshire, God Almight has hung out a sign to show that there he makes men.” [Dan’l Webster]
Now THIS is a story to take note of. The banks who consider themselves victimized ought to be persecuted for neglecting to inform their contractors of their regulations, and should be persecuted for illegal racial targeting.
(Source: wearethe99percent)
They’re even a little bit shimmery.
I’m thinking of bringing back the Turban.
So, because I’m a nester and a materialist, I’ve been thinking increasingly of my FutureHouse (I’m an American, and it’s my god-given right to own a house since I didn’t get the pleasure of being Raptured yesterday). My packrat tendencies have loaded me with all kinds of junk over the past years and I’ve held onto a lot of it, planning to someday incorporate it into what I imagine to be a whimsically eclectic aesthetic in my house. It will probably just make me look like a fiendish junk-collector with a penchant for crap smaller than a breadbox.
At least one of these items is the hard drive? motherboard? of my old laptop:
I’ve never been one of those techie-types, but wouldn’t a whole collection of these on the wall look delightfully retro but also, like, hip?
And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is where all your hard-earned money goes. How often do you think you’re replacing some Pentagon official’s Blackberry?
I confess: I prefer Sarah Vaughn to Ella Fitzgerald. Ella makes the rules; Sarah breaks them.
Last night, after a particularly harrowing day, I decided at the last minute to shake up my normal routine by going with my sister and her friend James to Paradise to see a group I’d never heard of, in a genre that I’m not really familiar with nor am all that into.
And it was a great idea. Even though I haven’t really been that into pure electronica for a while, there was something plunging back into the bass-heavy scene that fired my imagination. Modes of production and performance, fiber-optics, awkward dudes spinning and geeking out over their beats, inorganic sound structure, beers and some guy in tiger-striped pajamas…
Lena and I were utterly charged (as usual) by the end of the show, so we dragged poor James and our newest acquaintance, Patrick, to T. Anthony’s for a slice and a show-recap. I really wanted to get everyone’s take on the song I’ve posted, but I’ll leave that for online discussion. I’m trying to learn how not to be That Girl.
