Is this the saddest article of the week or the funniest?
The Bicycle Thief
Maybe he was just a huge fan of Italian neo-realism, but ripping off 2,865 bicycles seems a little extreme. . .
Mourn with Bootsy
Today’s NYTimes has an article about the memorial service for Isaac Hayes. I can only hope for a memorial that features musical interludes by Chick Corea, Kirk Whalum and Doug E. Fresh (but I’ll pass on orations from Revs. Jesse & Al). The best part was this description of Bootsy Collins’ funeral attire: “a get-up involving wide pinstripes, a kerchief, and rhinestone-coated sunglass lenses with peepholes in the shape of stars. . .”
Of course, they had to provide a photograph of said get-up:
Photo credit: Karen Pulfer Focht/European Pressphoto Agency
I think it makes him look more like Lil Jon than the Bootsy I know and love:
But I guess the event called for decorum.
Two new sites!
I just updated the blogroll, dear readers! It’s that “Sites To See” link over on the right side of the site.
First, Virginia Postrel, who blogs as The Dynamist, just added a new site based on her upcoming book. It’s called Deep Glamour. I arbitrarily put it in the Architecutre & Design section, although it could’ve gone into several other categories instead! VP is co-blogging with Kate Coe. I guess that makes it Coe-blogging, then.
Second, my old pal Jason G. just launched Eightiesology! Maybe he’ll let me guest-write a long-ass post on the virtues of Meet Danny Wilson sometime! Jason ends up in the Friends section of the blogroll. Keep writing!
What It Is: 8/18/08
What I’m reading: Finished that book on Steve Ditko by Blake Bell
What I’m listening to: Boxer
What I’m watching: Fourth season of The Wire
What I’m drinking: Cerveza de la Pacifica
What Rufus is up to: Still getting freaked out by thunder, still willing to walk up to anyone he meets, tail a-wag.
Where I’m going: Nowhere special, which is sad, since the summer is just about over.
What I’m happy about: That my wife made tongue tacos for lunch on Sunday (a process she began on Saturday)! And I did some manly-ass work out in the yard, ripping up forsythia and digging up some of my dad’s illegal dumping — including cinderblocks, carpeting, paint trays, metal pipes, airplane cable, something with vacuum tubes, and gas cans — to open up space around the big-ol’ rock in the backyard.
What I’m sad about: That I consider landscape work manly.
What I’m pondering: How Russia’s invasion of Georgia may have backfired.
A self-selecting profession?
Over at Foreign Policy’s blog, I came across this image of a billboard from the early ’90s:
As my wife put it, “How do you know when an engineer is outgoing? When you have a conversation and he stares at your shoes instead of his shoes.”
Robo-Dog!
I’m gonna have nightmares about this. Much creepier than Aibo.
“The Good Rat”? Try “The Totally Freakin’ Awesome Rat”
I enjoy the heck out of Ron Rosenbaum’s essays
But then there’s the Rosenbaum who contends that Domino “captures, purely with its look, the way we look” and “will be a cultural referent longer than many movies that make more money.” In fact, Domino is a terrible movie, the acid-green-iness isn’t very innovative, and it still doesn’t answer the question of whether Keira Knightley is hot.
And don’t get me started with the number of months my wife & I were sucked into the hypersaturated void of CSI:Miami on Ron’s recommendation. Sure, it was stupidly entertaining, especially with the Caruso-isms. But, dude . . . Zoroastrian undertones?
What I’m saying is, some of Ron’s suggestions are good, some are bad. And I’m telling you that he hit a home run with his recent praise for Jimmy Breslin’s new book, The Good Rat.
I downloaded the book shortly after reading Ron’s article, and I could barely put it down. I’ve gone back to reread chapters this weekend. It’s a fantastic non-fiction book about a career mobster who testifies against a pair of crooked (now retired) cops. Much of the book consists of the man’s testimony, balanced by Breslin’s wonderful interjections, his anecdotes about criminal New York’s past and dissolving present, character sketches, and his own past as a newspaperman, chronicling the city’s underworld.
The book is a sort of elegy for those early days, exploring the contradictions of the glamor, mundanity and evil of the mafia. The mobsters commit evil acts — the center of the book involves a heartbreaking story of murder-by-mistaken-identity — but they lead common lives, and Breslin is adept at drawing out these tensions. These men aspire to some sort of greatness, but they can never amount to anything more than elderly men trying to stay ahead of the feds. This may seem passe, post-Sopranos, but Breslin makes it a joy to explore this world.
Go get The Good Rat
Good Night, Sweet Mr. 3000
Bernie Mac died last night at the age of 50. We’ll probably watch Bad(der) Santa tonight in his memory.
Longtime movie & TV producer Bernie Brillstein died Thursday.
So Bernie Kopell better keep a low profile, is all I’m saying. . .
What ELSE I’m Happy About
I forgot to mention the other thing that made me happy this past week: Official VM best pal Ian Kelley just graduated officer candidate school and is now Ensign Kelley! Congrats!
(I wanted to attend the graduation ceremony up in Rhode Island, but that Springsteen show with my brother took priority . . .)