Silly Derek. If you’d been a native Italian speaker, you would have asked “Could I get a glass of urine’s, please?”
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.
I will in a jiffy snatch your rss fodder to dwell abreast of any updates. Esteemed moil and much outcome in your profession efforts!
Courtesy of Brian Beatty. Says this kid is his new hero. I say yes. We need new heroes.
As many of y’all know, I am one of those Americans who loves England and Englishers. Sometimes people even think I may have lived there, I am so steeped in English ways.
But I’m still conflibberated by the concepts of Pudding and Dessert. I mean, I know what I consider pudding, and generally speaking, I’d place pudding within the larger category of dessert. Except for the Yorkshire pudding my English grandmother made. It is the idea that any dessert might be considered pudding that baffles me, and in any event I think I have got the idea wrong. I don’t know the rules.
So I give up. And dream of the perfect summer pudding, whatever that might be.
At its most intense, the storm generated more than 10 lightning flashes per second. Even with millisecond resolution, the spacecraft’s radio and plasma wave instrument had difficulty separating individual signals during the most intense period. Scientists created a sound file from data obtained . . . at a slightly lower intensity period.
If you listen vary carefully to the audio file, you can hear Sun Ra.
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.
[haiku url="http://www.clusterflock.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/joycemckinneycallspeteashton.mp3" title="" graphical="true"]
Update: clusterflock’s visit from Joyce.
Los frijoles se ubican dentro del grupo de las leguminosas, que se caracterizan por crecer en forma de vaina y se caracteriza por ser uno de los alimentos que contienen más proteínas que constituyen hasta el 20% de nuestro peso corporal y sirven para el crecimiento, el proceso del metabolismo, la formación de anticuerpos que protegen de enfermedades y la producción de energía, entre otras funciones.
It was the photo of a friend’s pot of weekend frijoles that called this to mind, and now I want to tell a story.
It’s a Texas gubernatorial anecdote. Could well be spurious, but even if so, it’s true. In the early 1970s, a white man named Preston Smith was governor of Texas. And there was this Texas member of the Black Panthers named Lee Otis Johnson, who got 30 years for possession of one joint. And then there was this one day (probably one of many) when people were demonstrating outside the Governor’s Mansion or the Capitol. And Preston Smith is said to have asked, “Why are those people hollering for beans?”
They were chanting, “Free Lee Otis! Free Lee Otis!”
From The Saddest Music in the World. Guy Maddin (2003).
“The singers are giving us a sad peek into child burial customs ‘down Mexico way’.”
“The Mexican mama is being very firm with her dead infant.
“Now go away, she wails
You are dead
Don’t sneak in at night
to nurse from my breast
is only for the living
“To Canadian ears, that may sound harsh.”
This is awesome! As planner commissary who adventure manual, this art form upon datum rapport golden abate attended by, happy.
Fuck it I’ve heard enough, I’m going to make some killer android app that listens to every word you hear and uses Google’s voice recognition shit and some semantic networks and logistic regression crap and fucking starts chirping at you whenever it detects someone is hitting on you, make it look like an incoming call from captain obvious or something. It make take a while to accumulate enough training data to detect every subtle hint but it should pick this one up pretty easily. #
Terence Stamp, speaking in his own voice, in “Toby Dammit,” Federico Fellini’s contribution to the 1968 omnibus (anthology) film, Histoires extraordinaires (Extraordinary Stories/Spirits of the Dead).
For years only dubbed versions were easily available.
This is my Easter basket treat for all y’all. Make of it what you will.
(Terence Stamp just got another award. This one from the Film Society. San Francisco.)
The more than 30 lines of coded material use a maddening variety of letters, numbers, dashes, and parentheses. McCormick was a high school dropout, but he was able to read and write and was said to be “street smart.” According to members of his family, McCormick had used such encrypted notes since he was a boy, but apparently no one in his family knows how to decipher the codes, and it’s unknown whether anyone besides McCormick could translate his secret language. Investigators believe the notes in McCormick’s pockets were written up to three days before his death.
Rick, my imitation of Peter Sellers imitating someone from the Indian subcontinent is almost always a miss. It slides into the Lucky Charms leprechaun.
That’s pretty much where the similarity ends.
It was fun today having lunch with a friend at the suburban lesbian bar and watching part of Two Weeks with Love (1950), starring Jane Powell, Ricardo Montalban, and Debbie Reynolds.
The Robinson family, father, mother and two daughters, are spending two weeks of summer vacation at a resort in the Catskills. Older daughter Patti vies with her friend, Valeria, for the affections of Demi Armendez but Patti is at a disadvantage because her father thinks she is too young for boys. But with Patti singing at an amateur show and a dance, her adventures in quest of Armendez end happily.
Note to Deron: Two weeks of summer vacation at a resort in the Catskills.
It’s kind of fractal, but when he starts speaking French it’s pretty good.
I got a postcard this afternoon. I couldn’t make out all of it, but this was the gist:
Resolved to fasten my attention on your film last night, frustrated that you gave us so little of the coots: the farmer in coveralls, the barber, the fella blotched with paint (or plaster) ditto the old boy who plugged the [unreadable] and did [unreadable], for doing so. Wish you concentrated more on the less liberated, the less self-aware. Perhaps you can do so in subsequent work. Let me know. And tell me how your life is. Can you read this? Arthritis defeats this hand of mine.
I think he’s probably right, but I wouldn’t have seen it at the time.
Posted on the Book of Faces by an American-born high-school friend of mine, returned only recently to the States from Japan:
By the way, to friends in Chiba, we have a well so if you need water, and can get to Tsuga, I am sure H_____ will be happy to share, as long as he has power to run the pump.
A previous post:
Everyone is fine. The kids told me H_____ walked home from work . . . 35 miles.