As I was just telling Meg, I now have Google Analytics installed. So I can track this blog’s meteoric surge in popularity, of course.
I’m digging Shoshana Zuboff’s column in Business Week (actually, to my surprise, I’m finding a lot of swell stuff to read in Business Week) about observing the economic panic of her neighbors in Maine.
She invokes the Great Depression and dramatically, but also bravely, she proposes opening our conversation about the economy way, way up:
"Discontinuous change [...]
In less than three days, I am leaving for a week in Honduras. I’m going to Copan Ruínas, a small town near the border of Guatemala and El Salvador. It’s renowned for its Mayan ruins and its international backpackers. I figure if it’s too expensive to go to Europe, I might as well go to [...]
Another Greenpoint sign. On a construction site at Driggs and McGuinness Blvd.
"…I never fall asleep right away despite the new fatigues in my life. I think about the man from Cholon. He’s probably in a nightclub somewhere near the Fountain with his driver, they’ll be drinking in silence, they drink arrack when they’re on their own. Or else he’s gone home, he’s fallen asleep with the [...]
Signs have been speaking to me recently. Here’s the Moto Guzzi logo painted onto the outer wall at Matchless . Left over from its days as a real machine shop, I think.
Here’s a motto I haven’t seen in a while.
Hand-lettered posterboard on a phone booth on Avenue A, near 9th Street, Manhattan. A nice, warm July night, walking past the new, happy, safer Tompkins Square Park.
Update: It seems like the sign could have been a leftover from John Penley’s “Die, Yuppie Scum” rally in the East [...]
I just finished reading Rusell Shorto’s “Childless Europe” cover story in the NYTimes magazine. I don’t know what it says about me—maybe that it’s time for me to take a vacation from New York City—but I find the idea of a country with fewer people appealing. A little extra space, a little extra time, patterns [...]
Thanks to the marvels of the internet, I’ve just tracked down a poem that I have wanted to re-read since sophomore year of college. I remembered only the name, "Samurai Song," and the venue, The New Yorker . Granted, having known those two things, it wouldn’t have been all that hard to find. But in [...]
then I recommend picking up a copy of Marguerite Duras’s ‘The Lover’ as your something-sensational-to-read-on-the-train. It’s not the effect I was going for—it’s just the book that called to me most loudly from the ’summer reading’ 10% off rack at McNally Robinson, swear—but I thought the phenomenon too interesting and, frankly, too pronounced not to [...]
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