Category Archives: big board

Tonight I will sleep the sleep of the justified.

This is so cool I can’t hardly stand it.

I’ve been way way down lately, so when India’s and Lucy’s friend Heather commenced live-tweeting about Elmore Leonard from the National Book Awards, I got all excited. She and I got going back and forth, and I told her about my crush on Leonard. And we got talking about one of Leonard’s minor gifts — how he never strikes a false note when he writes about music. Anyway . . .

She said she’d try and get me a photo. And she did.

dear clusterflock

Say, here’s an idea. What say we establish a bizarro clusterflock for hackers, extremists, and miscellaneous goofbuckets? SHOUTING! And the SWORD!

We could even make it user-friendly by modeling it on bilingual sites. You know, sites that offer you the GERMAN or the ENGLISH version.

Visitors to the bizarro clusterflock could opt, say, for the MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY-KRAZEE-CHRISTIAN version or the MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY-KRAZEE-MUSLIM version.

There are infinite variations.

You’re hurting my eyes

and you’re hurting my mind and I wish the hell you would stop. And not just for my sake.

Please take a breath and reconsider posting that captioned image du jour. Do you know the one I mean? Its import is by and large political; oftimes it will feature a stock photo of a politician (or two) emblazoned with a snappy quip, ill-positioned and rendered in an ugly font. You must know what I have in mind.

I see such images mainly on Facebook, where they’re hard to avoid without hiding all of your posts.

And I wonder: What is the point?

These clumsy graphics you share and re-share are not great nor even good political art. They are not effective pieces of propaganda. They simply confirm sentiments held by the bulk of your contacts.

And they look like they been slapped together by somebody whomping an ugly stick.

So: For my sake and for your sake and for the sake of all that is true and beautiful, will you please pause and consider whether you really want to share that lame-ass piece of dreck?

The United Typothetae of America (and Its Future)

“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”

They were what you might call a guild of master printers.

On September 27, 1900, they pondered their future and they et. They started off with Blue Points, a splash of sherry, something called Essence of White Sage Hen, olives, salted almonds, and celery. Then turbans of black bass, sliced cucumbers, and potatoes marquises. And/or diamondback terrapin (in case). And/or lamp chops with asparagus tips. (And Parisian potatoes!) Washed down with various 1884 Sauternes.

There was an interval of sherbet crème de menthe (to cleanse the palate?) and cigarettes, followed by roast stuffed quail (imperiale) with corn cake and guava jelly. Plus lettuce and tomato, filled with celery and mayonnaise. A gulp or so of Moët & Chandon.

Ice cream (en surprise) and assorted cakes for afters. A cheese course of Roquefort cheese and “saline wafers.” And a wee nip of Chartreuse. Topped off by café noir and cigars.

(From the wonderful NYPL Menu Collection.)