Tees and Sympathy

Though I do not agree with all of her politics, Annie Lennox is a personal hero of mine…a glorious singer, a brilliant woman, and an all around class act.

See the video below to understand the third part of that statement a little better…and I REALLY want one of those shirts.

 

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iPadded

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As expected, Apple’s new wunderkind, the iPad, is taking the tech world by storm…however it is not without it’s detractors. In fact, the very power and savagery of apple’s hype machine is starting to put people off about the first of the coming wave of Tablet PCs.

In response to the endless amount of press about the iPad, Billy Kimball at The New Yorker decided to publish the following list of The Least Common Complaints About the iPad…and it was simply too rich not to repost here.

 

· Too salty.

· Time-travel app does not automatically adjust for Julian calendar.

· When used as tanning bed, battery life is limited.

· Not rhino-proof.

· Salesperson in Apple Store not wearing ironic “jazzman” hat.

· Not available in soothing Harvest Gold color.

· Strange odor coming from husband while using iPad.

· For $499, I was expecting a few more sequins.

· No USB port for whatever it is that they do.

· The iBookstore ichthyology section includes almost nothing on lampreys.

· When used as murder weapon, oleophobic coating does not completely eliminate incriminating fingerprints.

· Copying document files requires installation of forty-dollar iCarbonCopy app.

· Virtual cupholder does not actually hold cups.

· Unwilling to buy anything from Apple ever since Steve Jobs killed my parents.

· Insufficient media coverage.

· Original iPad was good enough for Grandpa and it’s good enough for me.

· Upscaling makes porn unexpectedly upsetting.

· After owning a Kindle for three weeks, I have become deeply loyal to the brand.

· The virtual keyboard is too %&@#! hard to use.

· New York Herald Tribune not available online anyway.

A Sharp Digression

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Spike

Plant a tree of glass and iron and burnt stone.

Drive it deep, a spike in the heart of the matter.

Make your stand, keep your counsel.

Drive it deep.

 

Let the world

and the heavens

and all the delights of creation

whirl around it.

 

Whirl around you.

 

Whirl away.

 

Wait a way.

 

Wait for the end of the world, a spike in the heart of the matter.

A spike in the end of the world.

A Remembrance Digression

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Bell Jar

Bell jar on the shelf, blue cascading down to grey.

Watching light distort to fit the shape, smoothing and sagging.

Time in a bottle, blue down to grey.

Filled with the past.

Distorting.

To fit the shape.

Still More Words to Live By

When in doubt, recite this to yourself 20 times fast…God knows I do.

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A Song for Spring

One of my personal gods…singing the song of the day.

 

A History of Sexy

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I have often commented here on the amazing arrogance of modern society. We are taught a contempt for the past from an early age, or perhaps that is just human nature. I remember distinctly being certain as a child that color didn’t exist in the past, and that the world of history had been in black and white. Convincing me otherwise was something of a chore.

In the same way, we tend to think that the things which give our lives color, such as sex, either didn’t exist in the past or were a sad shadow of their modern glory. That is especially true when we think of the attitudes of our female ancestors to sex…they must have been repressed, cold, trapped in a web of superstition and repression and fear before modern birth control, Cosmo and Hello Kitty vibrators set them free. However, was that really true?

Some new scholarship is emerging that shows that perhaps our great grandmothers may not have been so different in bed than our wives and girlfriends…as disturbing as that image may be.

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