Monday, August 14, 2006
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Interesting developments from the Stranger Than Fiction department. It turns out James Frey's teeth-grinding best-selling memoir "A Million Little Pieces" might be being relocated to the fiction department of your nearest Waterstone's. And his publisher doesn't care. This comes on the heels of the debunking of the JT LeRoy myth.
A friend of mine in college gave me a supscription to Index for X-mas once. I remember reading about JT with particular bafflement, borne out of the realization of what it would take to make it as a writer in the 2k's---a sordid backstory. I've always unconsciously boycotted his writing, and I feel a minor sense of validation that JT is more or less somebody named Laura Albert.
James Wolcott says it better than I could:
"Fashion yourself as "a survivor," and voyeuristic readers will feel the excitement of a dangerous voyage with so many valuable lessons to be learned along the way."
A friend of mine in college gave me a supscription to Index for X-mas once. I remember reading about JT with particular bafflement, borne out of the realization of what it would take to make it as a writer in the 2k's---a sordid backstory. I've always unconsciously boycotted his writing, and I feel a minor sense of validation that JT is more or less somebody named Laura Albert.
James Wolcott says it better than I could:
"Fashion yourself as "a survivor," and voyeuristic readers will feel the excitement of a dangerous voyage with so many valuable lessons to be learned along the way."
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
At the height of the famine in 1847 the body of an unnamed boy, taken for lifeless, was placed in a coffin in the Town Square and conveyed for burial to the Abbey Cemetry. As he was lowered into the pit, the youth regained consciousness and walked unaided from the grave.
Sciencedaily.com
Sciencedaily.com
Monday, December 12, 2005
Save Tookie
A couple MAJ bloggers have posted about the impending execution of Tookie Williams in California. His fate is in Arnold's hands now, it seems. For some context, Amy Goodman has background and interviews over on the vital Democracy Now! site. Check out Tookie's own site for first-hand accounts of what Tookie's actually done for this world.
Slackers might have caught Bobby Deniro's Bronx Tale on the box last night. I didn't, but my college roommate way back used to swear by it. (The kid in it is a Yankee fan and I think that put me off the entire vehicle.) But I write about other matters---Bronx Tale was the film The General was returning to the video shop the day he got done, says to Michael Dwyer on the radio yesterday. Then, it turns out, the other night, the kid, now 29, played by Lillo Brancato, breaks into a Bronx apartment and shoots an undercover cop. Brancato himself is in critical condition and has second-degree murder charges pending if he pulls through. A Bronx tale, INDEED!
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone.
While I'm loathe to admit being anywhere near the vacinity of "The Late Late Show" on a Friday night, I'd been looking for a clever way to introduce a "Late Late Sex Toy Show" all week, and wouldn't you know, Pat did all the dirty work for me. Cue the Vets on Call, up from Tulla, gifting PK with plastic gloves that run an arm's length and a metal cow castrator, looking like a nutcracker (pun intended) in the land of the giants. "Mine wouldn't fit in there," he says. Go on, PK!
While I'm loathe to admit being anywhere near the vacinity of "The Late Late Show" on a Friday night, I'd been looking for a clever way to introduce a "Late Late Sex Toy Show" all week, and wouldn't you know, Pat did all the dirty work for me. Cue the Vets on Call, up from Tulla, gifting PK with plastic gloves that run an arm's length and a metal cow castrator, looking like a nutcracker (pun intended) in the land of the giants. "Mine wouldn't fit in there," he says. Go on, PK!
