For those used to the pads, baggy shorts, and pitcher paunches of the usual professional sports (or not), it’s kind of shocking how non-existent, skin-tight, or both to the point of NSFW the uniforms are. Is a concern for participant modesty and spectator decency while watching these beautiful people do bizarre kinky things with their bodies the reason these sports never much graduated beyond “amateur” curiosity?
For some reason, reading old, politically indignant reviews of Zach Snyder’s 300 (example). It’s funny how in 2007 that movie could seem so obviously ideologically suspect—if not downright raci(ali)st—because clearly the Greeks were meant to stand for free, responsible (i.e, tax-paying!) Occidentals against the Thermopylae-rushing, bailout-seeking hordes of the East!
Persians are still boogeymen, of course. But I dare say we identify with them far more than their old blood enemies. Really, does anyone fear the Peloponnesian Bomb?
I still can’t get over the fact that ‘clever’ and ‘scheme’ are just value-neutral (or even -positive) ‘smart’ and ‘plan’ to them!!!
The Holmes–Cruise divorce, with hopefully juicy revelations about Sea Org, Xenu, etc., will prove to be a very bad thing for the Romney campaign. Because what’s the difference, really?
Either read my take on Fiona Apple for the New York Observer or, to get what I was trying to say (and so much more!), listen to ”Jonathan” from The Idler Wheel Is Wiser than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More than Ropes Will Ever Do.
If for some reason you choose option #1, be kind; by sheer volume of smart, wonderful words thereupon written, a Martian would think the new Apple is destined to move ten or twenty times the units this week as the new Bieber. Or whatever. Be kind to me—or treat me mean. I’ll make the most of it; I’m an extraordinary machine.
Fiona Apple’s career thus far has been been suitably tumultuous and bizarre for such a brazen and eccentric musician.
On the eve of the release of her fourth album, ‘The Idler Wheel…’, DIY offers up a brief introduction to this sad lady at a piano who’s got everyone in a tizzy. If you’re a fan of Grizzly Bear or Regina Spektor, we could have your favourite new artist right here.
—Fiona Apple, obviously.
An Aimlessly Didactic Season of Mad Men at Least Ends With One Important Moral Lesson. When you inexplicably decide to go to Yale after entrancing us with three delightful seasons of watching you try to get into college, you WILL end up a Stepford Wife on the New Canaan Metro-North Line, sneaking off for a final tryst at the Hotel Pennsylvania (!) with Pete Campbell before your husband sends you away for yet another round of electroshock treatment.
Another point of sympathy…Sarah’s ignorance to the idea that the British queen reigns, but doesn’t rule, seems to be less a fatal intellectual confusion on her part than a fatal constitutional one on theirs.
