Concerning events in and around Anoka, MN
This is so depressing/infuriating that I actually recommend putting off reading until you have time to decompress afterward. I took it in two chunks.
“This isn’t something you kid about, Brittany,” her mom scolded, snatching the kitchen cordless and taking it down the hall to call the Johnsons. A minute later she returned, her face a mask of shock and terror. “Honey, I’m so sorry. We’re too late,” she said tonelessly as Brittany’s knees buckled; 13-year-old Sam had climbed into the bathtub after school and shot herself in the mouth with her own hunting rifle. No one at school had seen her suicide coming.
A Little Skipper…
Reminded me, by way of Jean in Deron’s post.
Seems I’ve failed to embed it. Nor link it for that matter. Nevermind. It isn’t that good. Don’t take up your time.
The Mother Courage of Rock
She was skinny, quick-witted, disarmingly unprofessional, alternating between stand-up patter, bardic intonations, and the hypnotic emotional sway of a chanteuse, and she was sexy in an androgynous way I hadn’t encountered before. The elements cohered convincingly; she seemed both entirely new and somehow long-anticipated. For me at nineteen, the show was an epiphany.
Springtime 1976, I was living in the cinderblock building on the glorified median strip there where they split Highway 13, and one day I went over to this one girl’s apartment, she lived right by the guy who dealt me speed, and she said, “Hey, you know who you remind me of? You remind me of Patti Smith!”
Gave her a possum grin I’m still grinning.
Please Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood
Related to stuff we’re talking about.
I am posting this post
because to now I have posted 1964 posts. So this will be 1965. And that was a beautiful year. I was just old enough to know that I wanted to be a grown-up woman. In 1965.
At least one of those grown-up women in the movies. Or to have a hit record.
from the comments
One of the few homilies I remember from the days I went to Mass was about when the priest, Father Rich, was a young boy. He sat in mass one Sunday and watched as a man took cash out of his (Father Rich’s) mother’s purse. Young Rich said nothing.
When the money was discovered missing and Rich was asked about it he told his parents what he’d seen. Incredulous, they asked why he hadn’t said anything sooner. The young boy told his parents that they were in church and that he just assumed that nothing bad could happen in church; he thought it must have been ok. Of course, his parents didn’t believe him. They too couldn’t believe someone would steal from them during mass and young Rich was blamed.
I don’t remember what Father Rich was getting at by telling the story. It probably wasn’t to highlight the danger of sanctity.
As a side note, Father Rich (the same priest that married Alicia and I) later left the church after coming to the realization that he was a homosexual. For some, I’m sure this was an assault on the sanctity of the church.
Excerpt with minimal context
She looked up at him with a question in her eyes. “Did you get the graham crackers?”
“Yes,” he answered.
She moved toward him in her old slippers. He thought they looked like rabbits.
sketch out of context
via Aaron Cohen
What a lovely way to burn
Miss Peggy Lee. “Fever.” 1958.
(Courtesy of Tom Sale, the Texas artist a/k/a Pinky Diablo.)
Quote out of context
For every one person that comes forward with a false accusation, there are probably thousands who will say that none of that sort of activity ever came from Herman Cain.
spam from elsewhere
really important: cialis
headline of the day
Today Is the Last Day to Have Sex with an Animal in Florida—Legally
Strut
Après lunch at the sub-urban lesbian bar. My dear friend Miss Mindy struts her stuff.
notes for a potential screenplay
One thing that could be explored, other than the fractious nature of self, is the shifting patterns of human sexuality, fantasy, relationships, the dynamic of sexual interaction and need at a particular moment, and how contradictory that can appear or be from one experience to the next. Also the reverberation of that played out in memory and self-consciousness.
Back to back on Twitter
So to speak.
Join the LA&M Women’s Leather History Project and Alex Warner on the road at Beyond Vanilla in Dallas TX. (From the Leather Archives and Museum.)
Do I know anyone who works with leather, in a book binding way? Here’s the info. (From clusterfriend Pete Ashton.)
I am a woman of many and varied interests.
Quote out of context
Bert, who is fascinated by pigeons and gets easily upset
– Pete
Artifice and foam rubber
In fact, so much artifice and foam rubber is often used to create the sexually alluring woman that it’s sometimes difficult to know where the lady ends and the foam rubber begins.
Via dangerous minds by way of Roger Ebert.
”You got to have your very own broom!”
Betty Wright, just a few years back, performing her 1972 hit, The Clean-Up Woman.
Just a Quick Postcard…
Danny has the most accepting, loving family in the world. (I’m convinced, prove me wrong.) We’re in Rockton, on the Wisconsin/Illinois border half-way between Chicago (East edge of Northern Illinois) and Galena (West edge. Sheila might lead you to believe Galena is a suburb of Chicago, and in many respects, it is, but it could be counted an outlier.)
I was born near here, in Rockford. Today there was a celebration of Holly’s birthday and Uncle Doug’s (Holly is Danny’s niece, a 29 year-old Danish beauty, Doug is Danny’s 60-year-old brother–with a beauty that can’t be matched in song.) Today while celebrating, Danny and I also got notice for our having been together 24 years, today.
Y’all I hope I’m not being too sappy. But I’m so happy I could bust. Y’all, this family Loves.
日清食品 CUP NOODLE MISO (James Brown)
Good god, y’all!
(Gracias a Ju Ju Pongo.)
Go West
Why You Should Watch Filth
I know I’m like a cheerleader for John Waters here on clusterflock, but I really do love the man and I love the way his mind works and what he says. This is one of a series.
I always wanted a brother, and I wish John Waters had been my big brother.
(Thanks to Juanito for tipping me to this.)
Marcella Riordan reads the Molly Bloom soliloquy
In honor of Bloomsday yesterday Tim Carmody pointed to this beautiful reading of the Molly Bloom soliloquy at the end of Joyce’s Ulysses.
Josh Rothman says:
In my opinion, the best audio recording of Molly’s soliloquy appears in the Naxos audiobook of the novel; it’s read perfectly by the Irish actress Marcella Riordan. As it happens, you can listen to the last few minutes of her performance on YouTube. Molly thinks about nature and God, recalls her childhood in Gibralter (she’s half Spanish), and relives the moment she accepted her husband’s proposal of marriage.
Mike Mills, Beginners
Filmmaker Mike Mills’ parents met in junior high school. For 45 years, they lived together, raising Mills and his older sisters, until Mills’ mother died in 1999. Six months later, Mills’ father — a 75-year-old retired museum director — announced that he’s gay.
I heard this interview with Mills on Fresh Air yesterday.
quote out of context
For her performance Nobili, who says she uses dance as a form of prayer, lies spread-eagled in front of the altar clutching a crucifix or twists and turns as in pole-dancing routines.
